#didnt realise that until after i wrote that piece

[angronsjewelbeetle]

This was originally a piece of self-insert art but I thought this was cute. Post-Nails Angy being a goof. With FRECKLES.

#yes those are the flowers from my flower series #daffodils are also my birth flower lol #didnt realise that until after i wrote that piece #angy w some lilacs n daffodillies #post nails au #wh40k #wh40k fanart #warhammer 40k #freckles because u dont spend that much time outside and not develop freckles /hj #i reckon most of the primarchs have freckles #some of em are more noticeable like Sanguinius's

[polarizefinn]

A GUIDE TO SERENDIPITYS FALL: a short story

a little bit'a angst :^) artist hyunjin x gn!reader notice: 0.7k words, wrote this in a span of like 15ish minutes, may be messy (are we surprised?)

warning: mentions of nudity, bitchesz broken hearts fr and scars.

deep breath. in, out.

as much as youd like to believe that time heals all wounds, youd like to believe that this one had completely disappeared by now.

the person who you were addicted to, who you couldnt insist on letting go from your life broke your heart, yet your feet guided you here. his first official exhibition, which you promised to him over a year ago that youd attend no matter what.

you stare at the art gallery in front of you, the glass doors seeming to expose the long hallway before it, at the end a big room extending to the sides.

the walls of the place seeming decorated with spectacular pieces, wallpapers glistening and making the place seem heavenly. you push the door open, taking it all in.

the air here feels heavier, richer - sort of.

you walk down the long hallway, with each step your shoulders loosening, your breath alligning and your ears starting to lose the overwhelming sense of hearing your heartbeat.

you reach the end, allowing yourself to take in the canvases, almost a lifelong worth of work all in one space. the amount of people here doesnt shock you, hes always been loved. still, he couldnt fit the part of being the lover.

you walk to the far left, starting from the beginning and working your way up to observe all the paintings, as if you havent seen most of them already.

you giggle at the first couple of unfinished pieces, admiring a bit how he had always left some unfinished on purpose,

"i have other things to focus on."

the ones after explore life, nature, the sky. things that are simply beautiful, things that build more imagination, things that are simple yet hard to understand.

"look, do you see it the way i see it?"

pain, humiliation, flowers. flowers had meanings, he taught you. the one time he got some for you, he apologised for it.

"i didnt envision that this would end up hurting you instead."

as you reach the last couple of paintings, you spot the artist.

the group around him listening intently to his words, his explanation for the newest painting.

as you look at it closer, your head starts spinning and you feel tears filling your eyes.

deep breath, in and out. you repeat over and over to yourself.

you look up again and confirm - the painting is of you.

your nude body, a photo you sent to him when he was still a somebody to your life, when you thought you meant so much more than a piece of artwork.

you put your hands in your pockets, looking from afar. you couldnt help but to overhear his explanation, the description of the inspiration earning a chant of "ooh"s.

"and who were they to you?"

you hear a man asking.

you turn to look at hyunjin, his head tilting slightly to look at the man, as a smile creeps up on his face. he looks at the painting again, that goddamn smile still stuck to his face.

"they were merely a muse, nothing more."

and there it was.

how could the same person have the guts, have the fucking guts to break your heart enough times that you can start counting them?

you tried to say something. you tried, but couldnt. your stomach filling up with anxiety and embarrassment instead of butterflies upon hearing his voice.

as much as you hated to admit it, he was something you considered otherworldly. but very slowly, and painfully you came to realise that his weakness was his art, his fondness to you seemed to be replaced.

until you merged as one, and you had to step away from that picture, promising yourself that you wont let yourself be someone elses second choice.

you promised him youd come here, no matter what. didnt he remember?

you became his object, his composition. this time you werent there to stop it, to tell him that youd rather be a distant memory, than now a new collectors item.

that, and he forgot to paint the scar on your wrist from the thorn of the rose. the unrequited love flower, remember?

#stray kids imagine #stray kids oneshot #stray kids #hyunjin #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin stray kids #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #angst #reader is gender neutral #bang chan #lee know #changbin #han jisung #seungmin #lee felix #jeongin #x reader

[kookie-doughs]

Your Voice

Oikawa Tooru X Reader

-In a world where only a few people has a soulmate, and they are burdened with a disability until they meet their other half.

Chapter 7: Sweet

Italic means signed Bold means written

There you were 5 sitting and waiting for your friends.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki were laughing together, Iwaizumi was typing away at his phone. Oikawa was staring at his plate.

He's always hated coming to places like this. What was the point of paying extra for flavours that he wouldn't even appreciate.

He lifted his head to see you intently staring down at your cake. Your tongue sticks out slightly to lick the frosting of your cake discreetly. You got too close to your cake getting some on your nose.

Oikawa chuckle at the sight of you trying to lick the tip of your nose.

Oikawa tapped his shoes close to you hoping it got your attention, which did. Seeing Oikawa gave a fond smile made your face flushed.

How long have you been staring You signed hiding your face. You lifted your head to see his response.

You're adorable He smirked hoping that the other three was focused on something else. He quietly scooted closer and stretched his hand out to wipe the frosting on your nose.

Before he pulled away, the door swung open followed by a loud singing which got the three's attention. Did I mention you were both towards the door?

"Y/N-Channn!!!!" Satori cheered. He gasped seeing Oikawa and you. What's that!? He signed excitedly needing tea.

Oikawa got up kjowing his impending doom was upon him, but he was late. Iwaizumi had grabbed him by the collar.

Ushijima went straight to the cashier to order after nodding at your group.

You could vaguely read your cousin's lips as he threatened the captain.

"I told you stay away......... hurt........... stop..." You cursed at your cousin for moving his head unabling you to understand him.

You pouted, Satori looked at your cousin and Oikawa then you. He took the pad you had and wrote.

"He told him to stay away from you because you'll get hurt maybe even both of you. He doesn't want it to accelerate and told him to stop."

You look at you paper and Satori. The look in your eyes were adorable he pinched your nose.

Its okay baby don't think much about it. Your cousin is just protective. As he should the man's a man whore afterall He rolled his eyes making you chuckle.

Ushijima finally came to the table and settled their tray.

Everyone (excluding Oikawa) was eating and chatting. You suddenly felt a pang in your chest. Conversations were rolling, you can see Matsukawa cackling, Satori was enthusiastically talking while looking at his partner. The conversation was going fast and it they were all practically talking at once.

You wanted to join them so bad. You wanted to laugh with them, hear their stories. You stared at your food, you took a deep breath when you were about to talk you then felt your phone vibrate.

You pulled it out. And your heart skipped, your eyes felt teary for some reason. It was just Oikawa asking you about your cake.

You lifted you head to see him. You smiled and so did he. He tilted his head towards your cousin telling you why he had to text you instead of signing.

You put a spoonful of cake in your mouth and as the flavours melted you adored it.

You didnt realized you made an sound upon eating your first spoonful which got everyone's attention.

Iwaizumi had known you've always had a sweet tooth. Pastries being your comfort food, was something he took note.

The way your eyes shone everytime you scooped up a piece. The way you were swinging amd practically bouncing on your chair making your cute hums. The men looked at you fondly like parents watching their kid.

You opened your eyes excitedly and having Oikawa across you, you realised he hasn't touched his cake. You take a spoonful of yours and brought it to his mouth.

"Ahh~" You said hoarsely.

The man blushed, his heart pounding out of his chest. He cleared his throat and put the cake into his mouth.

The way you looked at him expectantly asking his opinions without words.

He couldnt taste it but looking at you and remembering your reaction to every bite, he could feel the sweetness. He wasn't tasting it but just seeing your joyed reaction to it made him feel like he could.

He gave you a thumbs up and enthusiastic nod. Which made you squeal.

Iwaizumi bought 4 Strawberry Shortcake for himself, you and the other two with it being the cheapest. Oikawa was the only one with a different flavour, and Satori and Ushijima too.

He got a spoonful of his cake and tapped the table to exit you in your trance. You saw the fake he was holding up and without second thought, you ate it.

Your reaction was better and Satori was dying with how cute you are. He immediately commanded his boyfriend to order ever flavor that wasn't on their table. And he fed you the cake they had initially ordered.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @wormonastringonastick

#smau #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #hq smau #haikyuu smau #fanfiction #y/n l/n #oikawa haikyuu #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tōru #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa torū #soulmate x reader #x reader #haikyuu soulmate au #soulmate au #soulmate #soulmate smau #soulmates

[gurokatt]

Before this gets flagged as hate and tossed out - I just want to preface and say that I am an outside observer to this situation. I know of some people who you may consider "involved," but we are not acquainted. I was not "sent" by anyone, and no one has urged me to say this. You don't even know me.

However -

I just want to note that the accusations of plagiarism against you are more nuanced than you're making them out to be. No, as far as I know, you aren't directly copy/pasting people's fics word for word into your own, and I do very much agree with you that many tropes in fanfiction (and fiction as a whole) are well-trodden and yet still open for experimentation by new authors with new ideas.

The issue with what you're doing, though, comes in when you take into account the fact that you /do/ copy/paste other authors' fics into your outline, and on at least one occasion this has led to you, essentially, "thesaurus-ing" paragraphs from other peoples' work. The inspiration isn't the problem, the fact that you write the same tropes isn't the problem, /that/ is the problem.

Many people's view of plagiarism is very black and white. Either you steal the entire work, and it's plagiarism, or you don't, and it's not. But there's nuance to it. Just because you aren't taking people's fics word for word does not inherently put you in the clear.

And let me clarify - the issue also is /not/ that you copy/paste snippets of other fics that you like into your outline. That's also well and good practice for writers. But the moment you stop looking to those snippets as springboards to riff your own ideas off of, and start using them as templates for how to word your own paragraph, you run the risk of flying too close to the sun and just re-wording the initial inspiration snippets instead of coming up with something wholly your own.

Do I think that you're a liar? No. Do I think that you're in the wrong for taking inspiration from others, writing well-worn tropes, or writing with symbolism that other people have used before? Absolutely not.

But I /do/ think that in your efforts to take inspiration from the artists you admire, you occasionally stray too close to the people who inspired you, enough so that the original writers and other readers can tell exactly where you got what you're writing. And /that/ is the part I disagree with.

No hate though, genuinely. Only sending this in the hopes that it comes through what criticism is actually coming at you from a valid place as opposed to the people who are overexaggerating because they hate you. Sincerely, if you're getting legit harassment from this, I hope it stops. Stay safe.

- Anon

Hi anon thank you for finally sending a real piece of actual criticism that I can take into account.

I have never actually copied and pasted actual scenes straight into my works before. But i have taken inspiration from them before.

However I do thank you for your input.

I have read a LOT of hoffstrahm fics before, I read a lot of them all the time, so there is a possible accidental taking an idea from a fic idea i subconsciously remember without meaning to. And for that I am sorry.

I have never and WILL NEVER intentionally copy and paste a fic straight into my own documents to rewrite into my own.

Recently someone wrote a fic with a timeloop idea that I had had in my "fic ideas" for months. I commented on the fic saying that I had the idea but i am happy to see someone else beat me to it [albeit sad i wasnt able to do it first]

The person said i should still do it, but because the idea was so close to mine, I have put my idea to the side until I can come up with an idea slightly different as to not basically copy what they wrote.

I would like to know which of my fics you think are plagarisms of other fics?

Even one of my most recent fics, Bad Doggy, was inspired by my friends fic [i didnt realise it was my friend until they messaged me after the fact with the news that they wrote it]

I credited the fic FOR inspiration [accidently crediting another fic at first, but changing it when i realised]

The ghost fic wip idea the original anon accused me of plagarising is probably the ONLY thing I can recall that was genuinely trying to copy off of. but when i learnt how close it was, I rewrote the scene with help from the author to make it less copied/pasted.

As I have said, I want to be an author, I love reading stories/watching movies on the topics i want to write about, this is a thing a LOT of authors/directors/writers do for inspiration.

But i would HATE to ever be accused of something as serious as plagarism. And if I were to take someones idea and rewrite it as my own, I am one to ask for permission.

I am not a very good liar, I don't like lying and I know i get defensive quite quickly when people try to frame me for stuff I do not do. However I do have memory problems which has made me forget or misremember things I may have done or said.

#plagarism #thank you for your input #i will keep your words in mind for future fics/writing #please note i know you are not being malicious in here #and I am in no way being malicious back #this is genuinely good criticism to be receiving and i am taking notes to make sure this doesn't happen

[ilovejevsjeans]

I must ask for I am desperately curious: what the hell happened in racing?? I'm trying to piece it together from your posts like. From what I understand, someone (maybe from rb team) finished a lap early bc the flag was waved wrong, but other drivers were told they had two laps left, so the whole thing is currently in review or SHOULD be in review? I only see this stuff through your posts it's amazing svdhjfnf

Um a bit of a shitshow to be honest. Which seems to be the norm for F1 lately. So there was a countdown until the end of the race (which had been started and then stopped because of the weather) and once it gets to 00:00 there is supposed to be another lap after the leader passes the finish/start line. There was i think 4 seconds left when Max passed so there should have been another 2 laps but there was only one. A lot of the teams thought there would be 2 and informed their drivers that there would be 2 and there wasn't.

Also all the commentators were saying there would only be half points awarded as they wouldnt complete a full race, but then full points were awarded, which surprised literally everyone. So max won the championship and literally no one knew it including him and his team, which is how well known that rule is.

Also Carlos crashed and they had a tractor out on the track to remove his car, while all the cars were going around in very poor visibilty, theres a couple of videos which show how close the drivers got to it before being able to see it. Pierre went passed it quickly to catch up to the safety car queue just as they called a red flag and instead of doing something about the stupidity of having a tractor ON the actually track with poor visibility when anyone could spin off and hit it, they decided to penalise him. After they were called out by everyone and their mother for their sheer stupidity did they release a statement saying they'll investigate what happened. Which is so stupid- they either allowed it out while cars were drving around a very wet track with poor visibilty not caring about what could happen or they didnt and the marshalls went rogue and did it of their own accord. Either way they should be able to say straight away what actually happened. No investigation needed.

I realise i wrote a lot mroe than you asked but at least youre all caught up now. Cause christ knows how confusing everything i reblogged today might be. Also no the lap situation isnt under review at all.

#went on a bit of a ramble #japan 2022 #also hope ive got the technicalities of the first part right

[misora-msby]

embarrassing moments with inarizaki

inarizaki always looks so cool but you know they’re actually dorks and i am here to provide you the content to show theyre clowns. enjoy the headcanons :)

Kita Shinsuke

firstly. kita shinsuke being embarrased? making a mistake? unheard of.

he’s a perfect man and we all know it.

anyways

you two were having a nice dinner out together. 

it was a pretty fancy place so you decided to dress in a different style today

but you were beginning to wonder if kita liked it or not because he seemed to keep looking past your shoulder instead of at you

he was an observant guy so you were wondering if something had happened behind you

but you couldn’t hear anything weird so you assumed not

you decided to just stay quiet about it at first but now it was beginning to become annoying! 

why wasn’t he looking you in the eye to speak?

midway through your dinner, kita finally spoke up tho

“y/n, your shirt is slipping... yer bra’s showing.”

oh.

right. you were wearing your off-shoulder top.

“o-oh. shin, it’s that kind of shirt, you know?” you had to explain your outfit to ur bf with a pink face.

“oh... that so... well it’s cold these days so if yer feelin’ cold lemme know. i’ll give ya my jacket.”

GOD HES SO PERFECT KITA SHINSUKE I HOPE U MARRY HIM???????

Ojiro Aran

another man with next to no flaws.

but nature says everyone has to make some mistake.

so it was a regular school day, our aran has just come to class from morning practice and there’s still some time left until class starts.

all the girls in class are gathered around a table

he’s not sure why, it’s probably watching an idol video

but ur man wants to be a little romantic!!

plus he just showered so he smells Great uwu

he goes over and hugs you from behind, placing his chin on ur head.

“hey, bb whatcha ya doin”

all the girls gasp.

he doesn’t get whats wrong, it’s not like it’s a secret y’all are dating

pda to this level aint bad either

especially compared to his teammate miya atsumu

“ojiro aran.”

why is your voice behind him

he looks down and nearly faints when he sees he hugged the wrong girl.

to be fair she looked a lot like you from behind, just maybe 1cm shorter.

“i’m so sorry!” he keeps apologising to literally everyone and all the class is giggling bc they never seen their school’s ace so red before.

“didn’t think i’d come back from the toilet and see my bf cheatin”

“IT WAS A MISTAKE! I’M SERIOUS! Y/N U KNOW I LOVE YA!” 

hes so funny i swear

the volleyball team hears of it and it gets even better 

Miya Atsumu

it’s not a secret that miya atsumu, setter of the inarizaki volleyball team and invited to national youth training camp, had a gf

he was very much in love with u 

the whole class knew it because he’d show it off whenever he could too

so here comes valentines day

last year he received like... 50 different gifts from girls and guys aiming to win his love.

you didnt even give him one lmAOOOOO 

but this year, he had been not so subtly trying to hint that “i better not receive any chocolates this year when i’ve got a gf!”

he reaches school and plops into his seat.

there’s an anonymous box of chocolates with “please accept my love, miya-kun! <3″ on it

“the hell’s this?!”

“oh? chocolates?” - osamu who just popped his head into the class to shove into his twin’s face how much chocolate he got.

especially since the blond was off limits, the grey-haired twin had a bigger following now.

“do they not know i have a girlfriend...”

“well, ya might as well eat it. ya dont know who to return it to.”

“that’s like receivin’ their love!”

“no it ain’t. it’s just food.”

atsumu couldn’t argue with that and popped a piece in.

it was very delicious. the chocolate practically melted on his tongue and was the perfect sweetness and was filled with a delicious ganache too.

it was perfect

but he couldn’t accept this!

“it ain’t even good. too sweet and the filling’s sticky.”

“ah. really? is that what you think, tsumu?” you ask from the door where you had been watching the exchange take place.

“y/n! look at this! some weirdo gave me some choco and like... samu said to test it but i’ll toss it out, promise.”

“tsumu, i made that... i wrote it anonymously because i thought you’d know it was me and i wanted to tease you a little.”

“huh.”

osamu: “yeah actually i went over to her place to teach her how to make it.”

atsumu: “you said you went to suna’s place?!”

osamu: “i went there later but i first went to help her.”

you: “anyways if it’s not good i don’t mind if you toss it out...”

tsumu: “NO NO BABE I PROMISE IT’S GOOD”

you: “you just said-”

“BABE I SWEAR IT’S GOOD I JUST DIDN’T WANT TO ACCEPT A STRANGER’S STUFF”

“you’re always so honest though... are you sure?” you were having your fun teasing him now.

“BB PLSSSSSS”

he still cringes at the memory 4 years into ur marriage

Miya Osamu

osamu would DEFINITELY make home made dinner dates a regular thing.

this alone shows he’s the better twin - miya atsumu stan

he loves cooking and eating with you so sometimes when he’s got a day off you guys’ll set aside the afternoon to make a real nice dinner

imagine candlelit dinner with miya dorito body osamu in a suit

of course some fun stuff happens after too ;)))

and today’s your third anniversary!!

so osamu adds lots of ‘natural aphrodisiacs’ to the meal

i’m talkin

garlic bread and soup for an appetiser, a nice juicy steak with garlic and red wine sauce for the main, and chocolate coated strawberries for dessert

mm yummy

you two cleaned your plates completely (it was very delicious) and as you were washing the dishes, osamu comes up behind and wraps his arms around your waist

“yes, ‘samu?” 

“i’ve already prepared us a nice bath with yer favourite scents.” he’s got his head resting on ur chin

“really? thank you~ i’ll be there in a bit”

but he doesn’t let go of you while you’re still scrubbing at the baking sheets.

“osamu, you can let go for now.”

“don’t feel like it.”

“i gotta wash the dishes since you did most of the cooking.”

“mmm, i’ll do it if ya gimme a kiss.”

you roll ur eyes bc what a cutie 

u turn ur head to give him a kiss but suddenly he 

he burps

that garlicy wine smell is just kinda there

“ew! ‘samu!!”

his face is real red but he’s also trying not to laugh because he’s still a dude and this is absolutely hilarious to him

“want another?” he starts teasing

“i’m not getting in the bath with you.”

“wait wait wait i’m sorry, i’ll go brush my teeth and give you a proper kiss”

Suna Rintarou

you two were taking the train home today

it was quite late due to practice going a little longer than usual, so he insisted he walked you back home today.

sunarin can be a good boyf sometimes ok

it was getting a little crowded on the train tho, since people were heading home or going out for dinner

luckily you had already grabbed seats so you were quite comfortable sitting side by side. 

you and suna have the type of relationship were you dont have to talk all the time

silence is v comfy.

he’s just scrolling through twitter on his phone while you’re looking around the car, lost in ur thoughts

suddenly you notice an old lady standing a little bit away from you and you stand up

“baa-san, please take my seat.” you whisper in the crowded carriage

“oh how kind of you. thank you, dearie.” she smiles and takes your seat while you stand in front of her and suna instead.

suna doesn’t realise this exchange has happened tho

(he’s on his phone as usual)

probably starting some fights on twitter

he decides to try to be a little romantic and pretends to stretch his arm around (who he thought was) you.

“rin.” 

why is your voice right in front of him?

“young man, i appreciate it but i’m married.”

suna jumps as he sees someone he did not recognise next to him.

he looks up and notices you had moved.

you’re giggling

the granny’s giggling

atsumu and osamu sitting opposite on the carriage look like they’re going to cry because they’re trying not to laugh

“i was just stretching. really.” he mumbles and crosses his arms, face red as a tomato

he’s so embarrassed.

Ginjima Hitoshi

sometimes the inarizaki vbc would go for an after practice snack at the nearby family mart

they were really hungry after an intense preparation for nationals which was in two weeks so kita insisted they all get something to fill them up on the way home

but lucky lucky ginjima hhehe

you (his classmate who he had a crush on) were working at the cash register today.

“welcome!” you greet everyone as they enter

he cant help but stiffen up a bit 

why are u so cute and cheery today

the 2nd years already know what to do.

“heyy, i think last week i bought ya that ramen right? ya owe me my konbini snacks today!” - atsumu

“yeah. you lost a bet to me last week so u gotta pay up. a pack of jelly fruit sticks please.” - suna

“forgot my money today, mind payin’ for my snacks too?” - osamu

“like hell i’m paying for all of you. especially you, osamu. you eat too much all the time.” 

aran’s noticed what’s going on,

“hey, if it’s just for today you can do it right? if ‘samu don’t pay ya back tomorrow i’ll nag him ‘til he does.” 

“fine...” his basket is full when he goes to the counter.

he’s trying his best not to have a red face while watching u scan the items, ur hair swaying slightly as u look back and forth between the objects and the screen.

“alright. 4,890 yen please!” GOD he hated how expensive it was, that’s almost all his weekly allowance but bc it’s u and ur voice saying it it’s kinda ok

“mm, ok.” he still has his eyes on you while he takes out his wallet and puts it on the counter.

yes

his wallet, not the money

“...” “...”

“excuse me, sir. this is...”

he almost slaps his face wtf he’s so embarrassed.

“s-sorry. just a little absent minded after practice.” he starts pulling out his cash.

“it’s fine! i know how hard you guys practice!” you smile while performing the rest of the transaction and pass him his big bag of goods. “good luck for nationals, ginjima-kun!”

he almost runs out of the store and is about to fight the rest of the 2nd years for watching and (suna) recording

#inarizaki x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #kita x reader #suna x reader #aran x reader #ginjima x reader #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu #kita shinsuke x reader #suna rintarou x reader #ojiro aran x reader #ginjima hitoshi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #misoramsby #suna rintarou #kita shinsuke #ojiro aran #ginjima hitoshi

[bibbawrites]

Margaux’s New Friend - a Single Dad!Charlie short story

THIS IS A PART OF THE SINGLE DAD!CHARLIE SERIES, YOU CAN FIND THE OTHER PARTS HERE

Request: none but @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ and i started discussing this after the last part of single dad!charlie and i couldn’t help but write it 

Word Count: 1281 words

Summary: Set before the Single Dad!Charlie series, at the start of filming when Margaux is only 2, Charlie has one more scene to shoot and all of his usual babysitters on set are gone, so Taylor steps up 

Warnings: none

A/N: so i wrote this like last week sometime? and didnt post it cause i didnt want to be annoying, and then forgot about it until today lol and now that my laptop is dead i wont be posting much writing so hopefully you like this one  i’m loving writing these little flashback short stories so you’ll probably see more of them eventually, if theres anything in particular you’d like to see in one of them (i have a couple of ideas already)  enjoy!

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes​​​​​​​​ @littlemissaddict​​​​​​​​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​​​​​​​​ @headheartbellarke​​​​​​​​ @lovesanimals​​​​​​​​ @bartok-the-magnificent​​​​​​​​ @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1 ​​​​​​ @fandomxreaders​​​​​​​​​ @ifilwtmfc @yagorlemmalyn​

"Taylor, I need a massive favour.” Charlie gasped out, entering the room in a rush, his daughter in his arms. Taylor looked up from the piece of paper where he was studying the chords for Now or Never. 

“Yeah what’s up?” He questioned.

“Can you look after Margaux for like 20 minutes? I’ve got one more scene to shoot and Tori and Sav are already gone.” Charlie said quickly, and Taylor nodded.

“Of course man, no problems.” He agreed, and Charlie gave him a thankful smile, placing Margaux down on the ground in front of Taylor and kissing the top of her head. 

“She’s gonna cry, just distract her. Good luck. Bye baby!” Charlie called as he rushed back out of the room. 

Taylor stared down at the two year old, watching as her face fell when she realised her dad had left her behind. He had only met her once before and it wasn’t for very long, and the toddler had just clung to her father the whole time. This was his first time properly interacting with the little girl. 

“Hi Margaux, my name is Taylor, do you remember me?” He said softly, crouching down next to the two year old. She ignored him, still staring at the door that Charlie had left through, tears beginning to stream down her face. 

“Hey, don’t cry.” Taylor soothed, reaching out to rub her back, not wanting to overstep with the clearly emotional toddler. 

“Want Daddy.” She cried. Taylor bit his lip. 

“He’ll come back soon.” He tried, but Margaux shook her head. 

“Now.” She whined, her bottom lip jutting out. 

“He’s busy sweetie, why don’t we go get a snack or something?” Taylor tried. Charlie did say to distract her. Margaux nodded tearily, and Taylor hesitated. 

“Can I pick you up?” He asked gently. 

Margaux nodded again and Taylor stood back up before leaning down, lifting the tiny blonde toddler into his arms. Her face instantly went to his neck and he flinched slightly at the feeling of her tears and heavy breathing. Distraction time. 

“Do you like chocolate cake Margaux? Maybe we should go find some.” He questioned as he pushed the door open. Margaux sniffled. 

“I like it.” She mumbled. 

“You like it? That’s good, me too!” Taylor said, his tone overly enthusiastic, trying to cheer the two year old up. 

Margaux hummed slightly and Taylor paused, listening, trying to figure out what she was singing. When he couldn’t identify the tune he decided to ask. 

“What are you singing?” He questioned softly. 

“Butterfly.” Margaux answered, sniffling slightly. 

“I don’t know that one, can you sing it for me?” Taylor asked, and Margaux shook her head. 

“Daddy sing it.” She stated. 

“Your Daddy sings it for you?” Taylor checked, and Margaux nodded. 

“Yeah.” She said. 

Taylor entered the catering tent, spotting the table covered in tea cakes instantly. 

“Here we go, do you want a cake?” He asked, heading over to the table. 

Margaux nodded slightly, lifting her head out of his neck to look at the table, her eyes red and nose running. 

“Which one?” He asked, and Margaux pointed to a chocolate cupcake. 

“This one?” Taylor picked it up and she nodded again, taking the cake from him with a mumbled thank you. Grabbing himself a cake too, two juice boxes and a few tissues to wipe her nose and in case of a mess, Taylor carried the toddler back out of the tent, knowing exactly where to take her.

“We’re gonna go for a walk, okay?” He told her. 

“Okay.” Margaux replied simply. 

“What’s your favourite colour?” Taylor asked, trying to keep the toddler from thinking about her dad. Margaux squinted. 

“Purple.” She decided after a moment. 

“I love purple too.” Taylor agreed. 

“And pink and blue.” Margaux added, and Taylor smiled to himself at the added interaction. He might be getting through to her. 

“Very pretty colours.” He said. Margaux nodded. 

“What ice cream?” Margaux mumbled.

“What’s my favourite ice cream?” Taylor asked. 

“Yeah.” She replied. 

“Tiger tail, do you know what that is?” He told her and she shook her head. 

“No.” She said. 

“It’s black liquorice and orange flavour.” He explained, and Margaux gave him a blank look. Taylor chuckled to himself. 

“I like chocolate ice cream as well.” He said, and her eyes lit up. 

“I like chocolate and strawberry and rainbow.” She smiled, and Taylor mentally cheered that she seemed to finally be coming around to him. 

“Those are some very good flavours.” He agreed. He stopped at a bench that overlooked the main road outside the studio, sitting down on the chair and shifting Margaux onto the seat. She wriggled, moving herself so that she was sat in his lap, and Taylor smiled. 

“Can I wipe your nose?” He asked, and Margaux stayed still in response, allowing him to wipe her damp cheeks and nose. 

“Much better.” He said once he was done and she smiled up at him, a smile that made her look almost identical to her father. “Do you want some juice?”

“Yes please.” She said, taking a juice box from him and sipping on it instantly. 

Taylor started to eat his cake, and when Margaux was finished hers he offered her the remainder of his, which she ate happily. 

Taylor’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, seeing that it was a message from Charlie saying that he was done already. 

Taylor texted back that he would meet him where Charlie left them, and moved to lift Margaux back up again. 

“Where we going?” She asked as Taylor threw their rubbish into the bin. 

“Your Daddy is done now so we’re going back to him.” He said. 

“Daddy?” She exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. Taylor nodded and Margaux squealed with excitement, as if she had been separated from Charlie for days and not around 20 minutes. 

They walked back in mostly silence, Margaux squirming out of his arms to run over to Charlie when she spotted him, and the young father lifted her up, kissing her head gently. 

“Did you have fun?” He asked, just as Taylor made it over to them. 

Margaux nodded. 

“We got cake!” She grinned. Charlie fake gasped and Margaux giggled. 

“You got cake without me?” He asked, pretending to be upset. Margaux laughed harder. 

“Yeah!” She exclaimed, and Taylor couldn’t help but smile at the interaction. 

Charlie turned his attention to Taylor, smiling at the older boy. 

“Was she good?” He asked. Taylor nodded. 

“She cried a lot but once we got cake and juice she was fine. We had a good chat and watched some cars and then we came back.” He told him. Charlie gave him a small smile. 

“Thank you, she’s not the easiest to leave. Her whole life it’s just been me and her so she doesn’t really cope well with me leaving her. We’re working on it and she’s actually gotten a lot better, if you can believe that.” He explained. 

“Well she did good today. Actually, she was singing herself a song, if that’s important at all. I asked her what it was and she just said butterfly, and that you sing it.” Taylor said. 

Charlie nodded in understanding, clearly knowing what song Margaux had been singing. 

“It’s the butterfly fly away song from the Hannah Montana movie. I sing it to her when she gets too worked up. I’ve never heard her try to sing it herself before so that’s a new one.” He glanced at the toddler, who was already falling asleep in his embrace. “Anyways we should go, Owen’s waiting. Thanks again Taylor.” 

“Anytime.” Taylor nodded. 

And he meant it. 

#single dad!charlie #single dad!charlie series #taylor kare #margaux #short story

[doyumacy]

FALLOUT |LH| SEVEN

*gif not mine

PAIRING: donghyuck x reader bodyguard!donghyuck

WARNINGS: mentions of yuta, taeyong, jaemin and jeno. swearing, hospital, gunshots, handguns, stabbing, falling down the stairs, blood. character death

WORD COUNT: 3K

You didn’t even hear what Donghyuck had to say.  You burst out running from his place and you fell when you were running and landed your knees and you thought you might have bruised something. You were in pain as you struggled to stand.

You can't run fast but you counted on his knowledge of you to carry you to where you know you should go. It took you a little over one minute to get to your destination, your house. You would be safe there. With Yuta.

As soon as you got home, you felt someone grab your arm so you whirled around to punch them. Taeyong clutched his nose, cursing as he felt blood gush out of his nose. You had one hell of a punching arm if you asked him now.

"Oh my, God," you covered your mouth, startled. "I'm sorry, Taeyong. I thought you were Don-"

"(Y/N)?" Yuta called you from behind.

You turned and ran to his arms. "I'm sorry. I should've listened to you. I'm sorry, Yuta."

Yuta wrapped his arms around you. "What happened?" He whispered to your ear.

"Donghyuck," you cried as you tightened his grip, not being able to say more.

Taeyong glanced at Yuta and Taeyong frowned looking at your knees that were bleeding.

"Put her in her room and send the medic there as soon as possible," Taeyong said.

Yuta nodded and took you in his arms, carrying you to your bedroom. When he put you in your bed, you grabbed his hand and looked him into his eyes. "Don't leave me alone, please. I'm scared." You whispered.

Then Yuta knew you knew, and for a moment thought how much you knew, but seeing you like that, asking him to stay then it meant Donghyuck didn't tell you about him. And that relieved him since he could finish what Donghyuck couldn't.

"I'm here, doll," he ran his fingers through your hair, "I won't let him get any mile close to you. I promise."

You nodded and you turned on your back, sinking your head in the pillows. You were shattered. You felt betrayed and so stupid. That was his plan; making you fall in love with him and killing you as if you were nothing but a piece of trash.

The next morning, Taeyong knocked on your door and let himself in after you did not respond. He shut the door behind him and sat next to you in the bed. (Y/N)? You have to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry,” you said, with your eyes still closed.

Taeyong sighed. “What happened?”

You gulped and sat on the bed. “Donghyuck…” you closed your eyes, trying to hold your tears. “He was all of this.”

“What?” Taeyong stood up, upset. “I’m gonna kill him. Son of a bitch.”

“Taeyong,” you cried. “I need you, please.”

Taeyong lay next to you and hugged you. “I’m here and I won’t let anyone hurt you, you understand?”

You nodded, whipping your tears. “I feel so stupid. I was so easy to fool.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” Taeyong pressed his lip against your temple. “You’re a good woman and sometimes people will try to take advantge of that, but that doesn’t make you stupid.”

“I’m not defending Donghyuck, but he was just doing his job, which is disgusting and you don't know how bad I want to beat the shit out of him.”

You sighed, maybe for the fiftieth time in the morning. “Whatever. Sometimes I wish he would just finish it with this.”

“That’s something selfish to say, you know?” Taeyong looked at you.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you cried again. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m here and if all you wanna do is to cry in bed then I’m laying in bed with you all day.”

“And  what was your plan?” Jeno looked at Donghyuck. “How did you even think she was going to react?”

“Jeno, I really don't need this right now,” Donghyuck glanced at him and growled. “She didn't even let me explain everything.”

“What are you gonna do now? Jeno sat next to him.

“I’m sure Yuta will take advantage of this and finish it,” Donghyuck stood up walking around the living room. “I need to get her away from him. He 's dangerous.”

“Maybe you should… kidnap her?”

“Are you out of your mind? She hates me enough, I don't want her to hate me even more. She’ll despise me.”

“Right,” Jeno grimaced, “what about her friends? You should talk to them and warm them about Yuta so they can keep an eye on her.”

Donghyuck nodded. “Taeyong won’t listen to me and neither will Lena, maybe Jaemin. He seems more… flexible.”

“Then we should get going.” Jeno threw him his car keys and his black jacket.

Donghyuck and Jeno arrived to Jaemin’s restaurant and after a long battle with the host, she finally let Donghyuck talk to him. Jaemin tried to shut the door in front of him and threatened him to call the police if he didnt leave.

“Give me five minutes, that’s all i ask,” Donghyuck begged him and raised his arms. “I’m unarmed, I promise.”

Jaemin stared at him for a couple of seconds and then nodded. “Five minutes, that’s all you’re getting.”

“Thank you.”

Donghyuck didn't sit and  just stayed standing up in front of him. “You need to talk to Taeyong and tell him Yuta is dangerous. He’s planning on hurting (Y/N).”

Jaemin laughed and looked at him astonished. “You have some balls to show up here and talk shit about the man who’s been there for her, protecting her. Fuck you.”

“Jaemin, listen to me. Yuta along with her father is planning on killing her so they can keep her company. She’s a threat to them, that's why her father hired me.” Donghyuck approached him a bit. “As I got to know her, I realised she’s just… amazing. I fell for her. I could never hurt her. All this time I planned something so she could make it out alive.”

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows. “What plan?”

Donghyuck pulled out two fake passports and placed them on the table. “I was planning on leaving the country under a fake name with her for a couple of days until I could get all the proof against Yuta and her father to the police. Including me.”

Jaemin grabbed the fake passports and stared at them for a couple of seconds. He then looked up to Donghyuck. “Promise me you’re not bullshiting me.”

“I am not. I love her, Jaemin.” Donghyuck looked right into his eyes. “I will die for her if I have to.”

Jaemin squinted his eyes and then stood up. “I have a private jet that will take you anywhere you want. I’ll try to talk to her and take this,” Jaemin wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to him. “Here’s the address where I keep my jet. Be there on Saturday at midnight.”

Donghyuck nodded. “Thank you, Jaemin.”

“If I find out you’re lying about this, I swear to God I’ll destroy you, Donghyuck,” Jaemin warned him.

“I know,” Donghyuck nodded.

Later that day, Jaemin went to your house and brought you your favourite food but you weren't hungry and excused yourself early. Jaemin and Taeyong stayed in your living room and Jaemin unbuttoned his shirt. “I saw Donghyuck today.”

“And why would you do that?” Taeyong stared at him.

“He told me everything and even told me…” Jaemin made sure they were alone in the living room. “Yuta is behind along with her dad.”

“What?” Taeyong frowned. “That’s bullshit, I mean, her dad maybe but we’ve seen how Yuta behaves with her.”

“And we also saw how Donghyuck behaved with her,” Jaemin raised his eyebrows. “ Anyways, I’m gonna help him.”

“You’re gonna help Donghyuck?” Taeyong laughed. “Have you lost it?”

“Hear me out, okay?” Jaemin looked at him and Taeyong rolled his eyes.

“Fine.”

“Good afternoon, Yuta,” your father greeted him and poured some whisky in his glass. “Have you found Lee Donghyuck? I need him dead along with my daughter.”

Yuta shook his head. “We haven't been able to track him, but I will find him. Luckily, your daughter refused to listen to him and she doesnt know we were the ones who hired him.”

“Great, that gives us more time,” your father sat down on his leather couch.

“We should not wait.” Yuta licked his lips. “I’m gonna do it tonight.”

“Rushed, but okay. The sooner the better I guess,” your father shrugged. “Call me when it’s done.”

Yuta came back to your place and for the first time, you got out of your room and ate something. You missed Donghyuck so much, his touch, his kisses, his smile, his smell… everything. But you were hurt. More than hurt.

The next day, you woke up feeling worse than other days and took a long bath. Maybe that would help you feel better, but it didn’t, so instead, you spent the whole day zapping, not really paying attention to what was watching on the tv. In the night, you went downstairs and frowned not seeing any guards in the front door or the yard. Maybe Yuta had changed his mind about the security.

You entered the kitchen and opened the fridge watching all the things you got and spotted the food that Jaemin had brought you a night before. You grabbed the food container and put it into the microwave. You sighed waiting for the food to come out and leaned against the counter.

BEEP BEEP

You turned and got the food out from the microwave putting it in a plate. You decided you would watch something and zap again. You turned to go to the living room and you dropped your plate when you saw a man dressed in all black wearing a black ski mask. Your heart fell down to the floor, freezing.

That was it. That was how you died.

But a voice inside your head screamed at you to run or at least to die fighting.

“Listen,” you began in a quiet voice, trying to reason with him, “—I whatever they're paying you I can give you twice the amount, but please don't hurt me.”

The man in front of you didn't say a thing and he pulled out a gun and propped it his hand. He made a few steps getting closer to you and you were quickly enough to grab a knife. “Don’t move— don’t you fuckin’¡g move. I swear I’ll stab you, I’m not afraid to do it!” The man stopped.

You walked backwards until you were cornered in the sink and you cursed at yourself. The man made quick movements and in a matter of seconds, he had his hand around your neck, choking you. You tried to push him away with one of your hands, the other smacking wildly at his face and chest. He just got his other hand around your neck, making more pressure. At that point, you were gasping for air, you were not going to give up.

Your hand tucked into his ski mask and after pulling it a few times, you finally saw the man behind it: Yuta. You couldn't breathe and it wasn’t because of Yuta’s hands around your neck. Donghyuck was right. You should have never trusted him.

You even didn't think twice, you stabbed Yuta -or that’s what you thought, - in the chest and he released his hands growling. You pushed him aside and ran to the front door trying to open it but it was locked from the outside. You saw Yuta running to you and whined running upstairs to lock yourself in your bedroom and call the police. Unfortunately, Yuta made bigger steps and as you were about to reach the second floor, he grabbed your wrist. "Let go off of me," You tussled with him and tried to push him so he could fall down the stairs.

But Yuta was stronger and pulled you with him making you both fall down the stairs. Your foot went down for your third step it continued to fall, your eyes filling with fear as your lips parted.

It seemed like everything was going in slow motion.

Your body started to slip back as your arms went to the sides. The right hand landed on the wall but you continued to slip back, the other grabbing for the railing that wasn’t there. Your back hit the stairs and you screamed out, your eyes closing as you slid down. Your head hit the wall at the bottom of the stairs loudly, and time sped up again once Yuta fell beside you.

Every part of your body ached and your muscles weren't responding to your brain's signals to run and hide. You felt a warm liquid dripping from your forehead and you pressed your fingers on it. Blood. You were bleeding from your head. You turned your head slightly to see how Yuta stood up, groaning from the pain.

"Stupid bitch," he hissed between teeth and bent over to grab you by your hair making you stand up. "You've given me enough headaches. I'm gonna fucking kill you."

You whined from the pain when he clenched your jaw, tightening it. "Get on your knees."

"Yuta, please," you cried. "I'll give you everything, but please don't kill me."

Yuta pulled out a silencer and attached it to the handgun. He looked at you and smirked. "You already gave me what I wanted. No need to beg."

You cried again and Yuta finished loading his gun. "You won't even feel a thing. I promise, doll."

You closed your eyes and you heard a gunshot, you prepared yourself for the pain and but then opened them but you heard Yuta growl. Did he shoot himself? Yuta was bleeding from his stomach and he pressed a hand against his wound. "Fuck. He's here. Shit."

Who was there? The police?

You tried to stand up but Yuta was quick and hit you with his handgun making you fall. "Goodbye, (Y/N)." And then, you heard nothing.

“Hey, hey, don’t close your eyes, love. Look at me. Look at me, (Y/N) -”

Yuta was dead. A bullet to the heart, not even 6 feet away, and you tried to replay the events that had led up to it but you don't remember a single thing after Yuta hit you with his gun.

Then you were shot.

“Hey.” You vaguely registered Donghyuck calling for medical in the background, but all you can focus on was him. His hands were pressing down on the hole in your chest, and he kept looking between it and your face like you’ll magically disappear if he looked away for more than a few seconds.

Something in the corner of your eye moved. It was Jeno. Taeyong and Jaemin, kneeling down beside you, faces contorted with shock. They looked strange, like you’re looking at them through glass. Blurry, steadily dimming…

“Stay awake,” Donghyuck urged, hand slapping the side of your face gently. “C’mon, love, you can do it. Don’t fall asleep on me.”

“But I‘m… tired,” you slurred, whining with another twinge of pain. “Ah... my chest hurts, Hyuck, it hurts-”

“I know, love,” he’s gasping it out, he was holding back tears, you realised, and you couldn't fathom what for. “You’re doing so well, okay? Medical, where’s medical?!”

“They’re on their way,” somebody said.

“What’s taking them so long?” Somebody else exclaimed.

“I… I…” You couldn't speak. You couldn't. You were too tired, your lips almost refused to move, and it was getting harder to formulate words.“Donghyuck, I… love you… and I... forgive you okay…?”

The panic in his voice increased “Hey, no, don’t-”

But against your will, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and the world faded to black.

The journey to the hospital passed in flashes. The ambulance ride was a flurry of hushed talking between paramedics, the siren numb and shrill in the back of his mind. You were too still. Too grey-looking, too pale, and he knew the image would stick with him.

He walked with you as far as he could. Donghyuck had one bloodied hand on the side of your stretcher until one of the doctors who’d gathered around you kindly told him that he couldn't be past this point because you were going to have surgery. You were going into surgery because you got shot in the chest and your blood was all over his hands and he was still got his bulletproof vest on and

“Donghyuck, you need to clean yourself up.”

The rest of the guys arrived maybe10 minutes after he did. Donghyuck registered them walking towards him, registered the way they stopped and stared. He guesses he made an image, sitting with his elbows on his knees and his head bowed, blood up to his forearms. He told them what the doctor had said, word for word, but that wasn’t much — and then he didn’t say much afterwards, either. Just sat and stared at the ground, mind moving too fast for him to keep up with.

The third hour in, though, Jeno leaned over, a firm hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder. “C’mon. We’ve got you clean clothes. Go and change.”

Donghyuck wanted to say no, but he and his clothes were a mess and that was the last thing you needed to see. In case you'd wake up.

#donghyuck smut #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck imagine #haechan imagines #haechan x reader #haechan smut #nct haechan #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 haechan

[juyeoniemyhoney]

can this morning never end

Namjoon is the most beautiful human being to ever walk the earth. It is natural that you have a crush on him. You expect that eventually, your feelings will die out but then, you find yourself squealing uncontrollably outside of the library that you and Namjoon had agreed to meet at for your pair-work assignment. You have always watched Namjoon from afar. It surprises you when you find out that Namjoon has been observing you too. Well, there’s a first for everything. 

-pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

-genre: FLUFF, a lil bit of angst, high school/secondary school au (where i live high school is called secondary school;-;)

-warnings: vulgarities, pretty self-depreciating writing if im gonna be honest so be weary, Namjoon is a little bit of a simp for oc in this one, the ending is lowkey shit rip im sorry

-word count: 3208 words

-A/N: hi hi im back, this time with a Namjoon fic. i havent been writing a lot because im so preoccupied with my exams. in all honesty, i shouldnt be writing at all but i have absolutely no sense of self control, so i wrote this. it’s not my best but i really like how joon’s so soft in this so i decided to post it anyway. don’t be afraid to tell me how you liked (or didnt like) this imagine! and requests are open! hope you enjoy this one:)

--------

As you approach the entrance of the library, your heart starts beating a mile a minute.

You stall outside the automatic sliding doors, mind racing with a million scenarios. You freak out a little and silently squeal, earning you disapproving frowns and judging eyes from passers-by. But you don't care. You've waited a whole week for today.

A week ago, during English class, you were busy writing instead of paying attention, as usual, when your teacher had given the class the assignment to write a scenario, of any genre but it had to contain the writer's techniques she had taught in class. And she made the whole class pair up. You, too lost in the world of fanfiction, had not been listening and frankly, you didn't really care, passing her words off as just more homework.

The next thing you knew, Kim Namjoon had turned around in his chair, calling your name in that deep, gravelly voice. At the sound of his voice, your head immediately shot up, eyes wide in surprise.

"Do you want to partner up?" he had asked, lips slinging into an easy grin, eyes curling up and that goddamned dimple making itself made known on his left cheek. He patiently waited for your answer, eyes periodically glancing down to your desk that was in disarray, pieces of paper containing your words messily covering every corner of your desk. You pray that he didn't catch a peep of your (admittedly) cringeworthy fanfic as you tried to subtly gather the papers before he could read too much.

"Um, partner up for what?" you questioned, confused, head tilting ever so slightly to the right in question, brows furrowed in misunderstanding. He mirrored your actions and your heart had unwontedly skipped a beat. A beat of silence passed, "For the assignment?"

Before you could ask what assignment?, your teacher had interrupted your conversation with a satisfied clap and a smile. "Alright, I assume you have all found your partners. I'll give you time to work on your assignment right now. Remember that planning is the most important stage of writing. Do approach me if you have any questions."

Namjoon had turned back to you with a wry grin that looked a tad bit awkward, saying, "Well, I guess we're partners now."

Which is how you find yourself freaking the fuck out in front of a library on a Saturday morning, mind racing with different, absurd scenarios and outcomes of this meeting. You decide to take another minute to compose yourself.

You wouldn't say that you like Namjoon per se. You just think he is the most handsome man to walk on this godforsaken planet. But seriously, that man is far too beautiful to be real. From the first time you met him til now, you have no doubt that that man is a celestial being, gifted to the world from the gods, purely to cleanse the eyes of us, mere mortals. To make matters worse, he is smart too; of a wisdom thousands of years beyond his age. You still can't believe you've had the god-given opportunity to meet someone like him.

Okay so, maybe you kind of like him a lot, more than you let on, but you're not really sure if you like him because he's Namjoon or if it's because you are lovelorn, touch deprived, or both.

You reckon it has taken more than a minute to compose yourself because by the time you snap out of your daze, you are five minutes late when you had actually arrived five minutes earlier than the agreed timing. You sigh and finally walk through the doors that welcome you into the cooling library, cold blasts from the air conditioning cooling down the fierce blush that had taken refuge on your cheeks.

You immediately proceed to find a seat but Namjoon texts you, telling you that he's already a step ahead of you, having secured a seat in a room with tables on the second floor.

When you reach the second floor, and make your way towards the rooms, you can see Namjoon through the glass walls, sitting down and silently reading a book as he waits for you. The closer you draw to the room, the faster your heart pounds in your chest. The sound is deafening and distracting and you don't even realise how fast you had walked until you are finally knocking on the glass door, sending Namjoon a small smile when he looks up at you.

"Hi, Y/N," he greets, smile widening into a grin so wide that it hides his eyes. Your heart stops but you hide it with a small smile as you settle down your things and yourself opposite him.

"So, what genre did you want to write about," he asks as you take a pen and a piece of paper out from your bag. You freeze when your brain registers his sentence. "The assignment is to write a story?"

Namjoon stares at you wordlessly for a while, speechless that it's been a week and you still don't know what the fucking assignment is. You, however, have no idea that he is thinking about how stupid you are and happily stare back at him, taking in his mono lidded, almond-shaped eyes and the dark brown of his irises. His nose bridge is straight and the tip of his nose is a little flat, like a koala. You have never wanted to boop a nose so bad in your entire life.

"Yeah, that's the assignment," he responds patiently, giving you a gentle smile. You can't help but feel that it seems a little tight and forced, like he is regretting asking you be his partner, and regretting that he didn't have enough time to reconsider. You ignore the feeling of dejection that slowly bubbles up inside of you.

"I thought that it'd be easiest to write romance since you're so well versed in that.". You freeze. Time seems to have stopped and your ears refuse to register the rest of what Namjoon is saying, tuning everything out but your deafening thoughts. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

"You know that I write?" you interrupt Namjoon. He stops and fixes you a look of confusion, like it is so obvious that you write. It's not that you've been trying to keep it a secret. The thing is, for most of your stories, Namjoon is the main male character. In most of your stories, you have described every single part of him in excruciating detail, his eyes and lips especially. When your friends had first read your stories with Namjoon as the male protagonist, they had caught on quickly, almost immediately asking you if you were describing Namjoon because of how well you had described him. A bad feeling washes over you.

"Yeah, you're always scribbling away during English so I got curious and asked a few of your classmates," he responds, flashing you another lopsided smile. If this were any other situation, your heart would have been absolutely eliminated because of that smile but in this situation, all you can think about is if he's read any of your work. Because if he has, you're done for.

"What did my classmates say?" you question hesitantly, still deciding if you want to know his answer.

"Well they said that you've been writing since forever. They also said that a lot of people know that you write. Oh, and they also said that you had some published works so I went to check them out—" Namjoon's voice fades out as he continues to talk.

This is it.

It's the end of your social life. Namjoon is going to tell his loud ass group of friends that you write stalker-esque stories about him and then one of his friends is going to accidentally tell their girlfriend and then the girlfriend is going to spread it across the school and you'll be known as the loser who writes creepy stalker stories about Namjoon—

"It was amazing," you hear Namjoon say in between your mild quarter-life crisis. You pause and look him square in the eye. You want to come off as serious but you falter slightly when Namjoon stares back at you, irises a whirlpool of dark brown and glittering fascination, a swirling vortex that draws you in with a vicious intent of drowning.

"Yes?" Namjoon questions you after a beat of silence passes. You want to ask him if he knows that he is reading about himself but you stop yourself. "You like my stories?" you ask instead, feeling a tad bit shy now that you've realised that Namjoon likes what you write about him.

He lets out a small laugh, "Is it that hard to believe that I like what you write?"

"I was just surprised." He flashes you another wide grin and there it is, those cursed dimples show themselves again, grinning tauntingly at you and your heart commits the highest act of treason when it starts to beat faster. You gulp.

"You shouldn't be surprised. It was really good. I really liked it when you described the male character. It felt like I was looking at him myself. That's why I asked you to be my partner. I'm sure with your talents, we can get a really good mark on this assignment."

Your heart thuds a little faster when Namjoon tells you that his favourite part was reading about how you described him. But it falls to your stomach when he tells you that he picked you solely for your supposed talents. You don't know why, but a part of you had thought that maybe Namjoon wanted to get to know you better, and was using this assignment as an excuse. You thought that it was finally happening, someone you like has finally noticed you. But it looks like you thought wrong.

"Thank you," you say meekly, flashing him a half-hearted smile that you're sure he notices from the way he stiffens. "So, you said that you thought that romance would be a good genre, but what do you want to write about?"

Namjoon is silent for a while, lips pursed in ponder. You wait patiently for his answer.

"Well, I thought that I'd wanted to write romance too," he answers flashing you an awkward smile. The silence that follows is palpable and suddenly, you feel so very exhausted. "Well then, that's settled. Now we just have to think of a situation."

"How about this one?" Namjoon asks immediately after you finish your sentence. He says it rather suddenly and it startles you a little. You can't help but hear a certain extent of desperation in this voice. He wants to get this over with, you tell yourself.

"How do you mean?"

"Kinda like us now," he starts but stops to think about what to say next. You remain silent. "We should just write about us but make it a love story. For example, the two main characters are supposed to do a project together so they meet at a library," he pauses to gesture to the shelves surrounding the both of you.

"Then they start working on the project and they start talking. Then, somehow, the boy confesses to her. And the girl tells him she's always felt the same way. We can come up with how he confesses since I myself haven't come up with that yet," he continues, softening the last part of his sentence into a mumble that you barely hear, but still do. You pause. What the fuck?

"What did you say? I didn't hear you," you ask against your better judgement, curiosity getting the best of you. "Huh? Oh, it was nothing."

A furious blush begins to spread on the apples of Namjoon's cheeks, and for some reason, your body begins to mirror him, heart pumping hot blood to the blood vessels that lay beneath the skin of your cheeks. Namjoon shyly directs his gaze to his lap, dark brown bangs, the colour of his eyes, coming down in luxurious curls and waves to hide his eyes. You can't help but think that you like to see Namjoon like this; soft and shy and vulnerable because he is usually so confident and suave. It feels like he is showing a new side of himself to you, like he is peeling back the layers of masks and personas he has built until he is left raw and natural, allowing you to see everything that he is. The thought of that leaves you feeling winded because it is exactly what you want. And suddenly, you don't feel bashful or shy because of his words. Instead, you are determined, hellbent on making something out of this and you hope with your whole being that it is a relationship.

You are about to say something, to question him, bombard him until he is spilling his feelings in fumbled words and sentences of desperation and want, clawing at you until you too, are raw and vulnerable. But he beats you to it, speaking in a soft, hushed tone, as if you are a stern silence that he is afraid of interrupting.

"I think you're amazing, Y/N. What do you think of me?"

He stares meekly at his lap, too afraid to even spare you a glance. You remain silent, building his desperation like you are some professional flirt. In all honesty, you really just want to tell him you like him too but you're just so scared. The evidence that he at least feels something for you is right in front of you and yet your brain rejects it like a vending machine rejects a bill, walls built far too high and thick that words are no longer enough to convince you. He has to show you. And you think he knows that too.

Namjoon's head shoots up to stare you in the eyes, a new found determination and confidence burning in his eyes. The way the light finds his dark brown irises makes your heart do a million somersaults. They light up and turn into a golden brown you can't help but compare to a sweet, caramel syrup that coats your tongue in golden, sugary gratification. You swallow so hard, you feel the sides of your throat rub together painfully. 

"I think you're freaking amazing, Y/N. Every time I look at you, I always want to make myself better. For you. I want to become the best version of myself in hopes that it'll satisfy you and garner your attention. And I really like that you do what makes you happy. I absolutely love it when you write in English because you're always so focused and serious, plus, you make that really cute face when you're concentrating and it always makes my heart beat a little faster and it makes me hate that I sit in front of you because I have to keep finding stupid reasons to turn around just to look at you and I just think you're the most amazing, admirable, lovable person ever," Namjoon lets out. His words are rushed and desperate and you melt like goddamn candle wax.

"I'm— Wow, I'm— thank you, Namjoon. That really means a lot to me," you stutter, not really knowing what to say at first but finding your words soon enough. "Oh, and I feel the same way," you add, somehow missing the main point of your response. It doesn't matter anyway. He knows now. That's all that matters.

"Wait, really?"

You let out a laugh. "Yeah, Namjoon. Is it that hard to believe that I like you too?" you reply, a homage to your previous conversation.

Namjoon smiles a small smile, then it widens, and widens, and widens, until he is flashing you a blinding grin that could outright beat the glare of sunlight. "You said that you like me," he points out, eyes shining.

It is your turn to blush in embarrassment, cheeks feeling hot as you begin to sink into yourself, hair falling from behind your shoulders to hopefully make itself useful as a curtain to shield your red face from Namjoon. Something in Namjoon's chest begins to splinter at the sight. He is so very tempted to pull out his phone and snap a picture of you but he holds himself back at the thought that he is positive he has many more chances to do so. His ribs nearly break in half because of how hard his heart beats.

"It's a good thing that I like you too," he says gently, smile now gentle instead of blinding. "Also, we have a plot now!" he exclaims in excitement as he slides the pen and paper closer to himself, ready to start on your assignment.

"Wait."

"Yeah?"

"So, we're, are we? You know... Um, dating now?"

Namjoon's eyes widen in horror and he deflates himself, a disappointed frown pulling his eyebrows together at the centre and turning the corners of his lips down. "Shit, I'm sorry I didn't ask— I just assumed—" he cuts himself off, clearing his throat dramatically.

"Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?" he asks. Somehow, he still feels nervous even though he knows that you answer is a resounding, "Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend."

Namjoon lets out the breath he didn't even know he was holding and it comes out in a relieved sigh. "Thank God because if not our story would have a horrible ending," Namjoon comments, picking the pen back up and clicking it open.

"Let's write that," you cut in before he can say anything else. "Write a sad love story?"

Namjoon is going to tell you no, to completely disapprove of your idea because writing a sad love story is one thing but writing a sad love story that will be handed up to your teacher for her to grade is another thing. But then, he sees your eyes glisten in determination and he dispels his thoughts immediately, folding into himself like a goddamn lawn chair. He can't believe he was just about to say no to you. What the fuck is wrong with him?

"Please? I'm better at writing angst. Plus, we have a happy ending and that's all that matters," you press, trying to convince him. You don't have a real reason other than the fact that you write angst better. You also don't really know why you want to write angst right now when you feel as if you could fly. But it doesn't matter. None of it matters anymore. Namjoon is your's now. 

Namjoon flashes you a dimpled smile, eyes curling up and glittering with mirth and unadulterated belief in you. You can't help but think that you want him to never stop smiling like that, looking at you like you are some sort of celestial being, hailed from the sky solely to bring him every sort of merriment known to mankind and the heavens. The thought of him thinking of you like that scares you, because you are always afraid of not being enough. But Namjoon diminishes all of your worries with a short sentence, manhandling them by the throat and shoving them off a cliff.

"Okay, I believe in you."

#namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon imagine #namjoon imagines #bts #bts au #bts imagine #bts imagines #namjoon au #fluff #namjoon fluff #high school au #rm #rm au #rm imagines #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #namjoon fic #bts fanfic #namjon fanfic #rm fanfic #namjoon one shot #rm oneshot

[autumn-foxfire]

The thing i noticed when i look at dabihawks fanart n read through your expiriences with the meta part of the fandom is that a lot of people seem to lean on dabi side of the dabihawks conflict. Like its hawks who has to make changes to earn dabi. Its hawks whos turned it a villain, its hawks who forgives or even thanks dabi for what he did. Actually i dont think ive ever seen art ro read a fic (but to be fair im extremly selective in fic reading) where dabi is the one to apologise and try to earn hawks

N i think this sorta makes sense because for a lot of dabihawks shippers, dabi is probably their favorite out of the two. That also makes sense cuz hes been around longer n has appealing design so it makes sense that people would try and fit hawks around dabis narrative instead of vice versa. They find dabi more likable n more interesting so its his side they want to explore.

I feel that this is completely different for me because hawks is my no 1 best boy. Like before hawks bnha was the kind of show where i would say 'oh i like the characters but none of them are mine fav' like id say shouto, shinsou or jirou were my favs mostly based on aesthetics or recognizing pieces i usually like in characters in them, but those pieces never being strong enough for me to say this is my fav bnha character like id say izaya is my favorite durarara character or ranpo is my favorite bungo stray dogs character. And then bam. Bird Time. Like when i first saw hawks i think the most i thought was 'damn thats a cool design' but as we got more of him he very quickly became the character i loved most and wanted to see more off.

Dabi on the other hand i was never really interested in. Like he was cool n all but overall i didnt really care for him until the touya theory dropped and until dabihawks. For me hes perfectly fine, i dont dislike him or anything but i like him most when hes involved with other characters i like, like Todorokis n Hawks. Like even now after a good while on Dabihawks juice id still stay hes not my fav villain. That would probably be Toga, Geten (as little as we get of him) and honestly mr compress just for being an evil magician i need more mr compress

So the fact that hawks is my fav means that unlike ppl whos fav is dabi i focus more on how can dabi earn hawks. How can dabi get better, would he ask for help, would he quit villainy, would he apologize. And most importantly would hawks accept him back.

Makes me feel like amongst dabihawks shippers theres simply two different streams that would probably get annoyed by each others content n feel like the other is spoiling their fav character.

Like i sure as fuck get annoyed when artists i follow for dabihawks start talking about how hawks should have been a villain n how hawks is actually an evil murderer while the league has a point n is poiting out that the heroes will save only those who dont fight back. No really thats a take i heard, lets just forget muscular, mustard, moonfish, gentle, the yakuza and ALL FOR FUCKING ONE who were all arrested perfectly fine without fighting back. But of course these people dont mean saved as in arrested, forced to rexamin their own behavior and work to be better people, they mean saved as in i want my favs to be coddled and patted on the back and instantly forgiven and even told they were right all along and they are the most special a good. Geeze

I fuckin went off subject so hard this is less of an ask n more of a rant now. The only good thing about seeing all those bad takes is that every time i see one my motivation to write a dabihawks story where dabi faces concequences, and they actually have to hash the whole villain hero ideologies thing out, grows stronger

...I’m sorry, I wanted to answer this sooner but wanted to get the smaller asks out of the way first T-T

But yes! That’s been my experience when it comes to Dabihawks as well. Not many people focus on Hawks side of the conflict and instead tend to make him the agressor in the relationship when they want conflict (it always tends to be Hawks who upsets Dabi for example, or Hawks will say something insensitive towards Dabi or do something that upsets Dabi). Not many people treat them as a pair, they just tend to focus on the Dabi angst more then the Hawks angst or angst experienced by the both of them (I like to call that the Dabias and many people suffer from it in the Dabihawks shipping fandom I’ve found).

I like reading stories like this too, from time to time, but I’m just tired of all the stories or comics or fan art being Hawks the bad person in the relationship with him having to apologise and make it up to Dabi. Especially when in canon it’s Dabi that has treated Hawks pretty terribly (he almost got him killed by lying to him about when he was going to release High End and he almost killed him during the raid, meanwhile Hawks hasn’t anything as horrible towards Dabi except hold him at knife point but that was more for his own protection then to threaten Dabi).

I feel like I’m just bitching because people don’t wrote fanfiction to my specifications but you’d be grumpy too if your favourite character always gets the short end of the stick in work that is supposed to be about the pair of them being a couple.

Also don’t get me started on the stories that make Hawks “see the light” and join Dabi’s side after he maimed him, some even going far as to have him thank Dabi for what he did. It just reeks of the Dabias and I absolutely hate. Let Hawks experience trauma you cowards, especially trauma that we know was caused by the hands of dear old Dabi.

I wish more work would try to reform Dabi as a person instead of having Hawks become a villain (especially because works that usually have Hawks become a villain tend to ignore the horrifying plans the League want to commit or acknowledged them but fool themselves into thinking Hawks would actually be down for all the BS). I think it’s more interesting to see a bad person try to change, it’s why I’ve enjoyed Endeavor’s character arc despite not liking him as a character. Like sure, I don’t mind bastardization arcs too but they have to be done with character I can see it happening too and Hawks isn’t that type of person.

(In fact it’s such an interesting source of conflict that Dabi and Hawks are very resolved people. They’re not likely to change their ways for anything but I don’t really see people explore that even though it’s the perfect source for angst).

I’m so tired of villain stans who wanted Hawks to become evil (and then wanted him to validate their murder favs). I want more stories where Hawks puts his foot down and Dabi realises he wants to be a better person for him (it’s in those stories I could actually see him bonding with his family again too because right now Dabi is a man with no qualms with breaking his family apart for his revenge).

I just wished more people would let Dabi face the consequences of his actions too. Like if you’re going to make Hawks suffer for what he did (even though I roll my eyes at the thought) then Dabi who has done much worse should be suffering ten times over.

Make it make sense.

#bnha #bnha dabihawks #dabihawks #thanks for the ask!! #rant #from the both of us really XD #thegaygyrus

[aquarius-hood1996]

This was a request from @babylonxcaluum

Hello sorry to bother you but I saw that you had you’re request open!! I was hoping you could do a bsm imagine where like Ashton has a 16 year old sister and ashton and the boys find her singing in the basement and later find out she wants to start her music career and the boys help her do that???

Thank you for the request and I'm really sorry it took me so long. I hope you like it❤️

- - -

"I'm leaving for work, love. Ashton should be back soon.“ Anne turned around watching her daughter prepare her food.

Hailey nooded over her mothers words, knowing that Anne Maries week was once again full of night shifts. Making her at least by day 3 exhausted and often letting Ashton take over and make sure that Hailey was ok. The thirteen year old was incredible far for her age but it didnt make her mom or older brother less protetive of her. Especially Ashton since she was his only sibling.

H gave a smile and wave for her mom as she left the kitchen. Humming under her breath, a smile on her lips. Her mom being at work and Ashton out of the house meant that she had one of the rare moments Hails could sing.

She could have done it with them in the house but she didnt feel comfortable with that. She didnt like to admit it but her brother being a good musician often intimidated her. She loved signing and writing poetry and lyrics more than anything. The one thing were she could freely express herself but she was nervous about sharing it. As long as she was able to sing in piece she was happy.

Her heart skipped the moment Hailey realised she was alone. A smile appearing on her face, abonnding her food as she made her way down to the basement. Knowing that this was were Ashtons band was usually practicing and his band had their instrument. She went over and took his guitar. Sitting down on one of the sofas and starting to strum. Humming first while getting the melody she made it up in her head right and thinking about the lyrics she wrote recently and thought that would fit to it.

After a while Hailey started to sing for herself, letting loose and forgetting about everything else around her. That moment belonged to her and the guitar.

At least that what she thought. Her back turned towards the door and not hearing the boys coming down and propably for the first time being quiet ever, while listening to her.

"Damm“ was the first thing she heard when finishing the song. Turning around, eyes wide and mouth open in shock. H put the guitar down and turned around, hiding behind her hands. She never felt so embarrassed in her whole life.

The boys smiling at her.

"Your voice is beautiful.“ Luke turned to hug her before taking a step back.

"Sounding better than your Ash, mate.“ Calum agreed while Michael gave her a thumps up and giving Ashton a push towards his sister.

"I feel so embarssed.“ Hailey whispered. Trying to turn away and now pumping into her brother who slung one arm around her. When she put her hands down the rest of the boys had dissappeared.

It was quiet for a while before Ashton turned to her.

"You know that the boys are right? Your voice is beautiful, H.“

"Ashh…“ She once again hid behind her hands and turning away from her older brother. Ashton watched her.

"What? You are. You wanna sing?“

"I can't.“ Ashton could barely hear her, behind her hands.

"Why not?“

"Well, smart butt. I can't sing in front of people I like. How do you think it would go in front of strangers?“

She put her hands down and now gave Ashton a strongly dissaproving look that reminded him of their mother.

"Uhm…“

"Exactly bad.“

"Well, do you want to sing in front of strangers?“ He now looked into her eyes, trying to think of a way to help his sister.

"Yeah, more than anything.“ She admitted quietly. This was one of her biggest dreams but she couldnt really see herself there, yet. Especially when she couldnt even sing in front of her brother or mother.

"Than you will be. And I and the boys will help you.“

"How?“

"Well, how about we start with you singing with us and go from there?“

"I dont know, Ash.“ Hailey shook her head, frowing over her brothers words while pushing the guitar a little bit more away with her foot.

"Just try, H. What do you have to lose?“

Hailey thought for a bit about Ashtons words. For her seem to be a lot of things that could go wrong. Mainly doubing if she would be good enough. But if she sucked maybe it could be only in front of her brother and his dorky friends.

"But it's only you and the guys for now?“

"Yeah, only me and the boys if you want.“ Ashton offered her once again while poking her side, trying to get her to smile a least a bit.

"I… can try.“ She relented. Her face turning a bit red while she played with the sleeves of her shirt.

"That's what I thought.“ He encouraged her while giving her a hug.

"Thank you, Ash.“ She whispered while squeezing him back. For a while they stayed that way until…

"Hey Ash?“

"Yeah?“

"You smell weird“

"Don't I love having a younger sister.“ He groaned while Hailey snickered.

#Ashton Irwin imagine #5sos imagine #5sos #Ashton Irwin #5sos imagines #Ashton Irwin imagines #Ashton

[whorehour]

Wishlist

SIDE NOTE: This was requested but while writing it i accidenly lost the ask beacuse im really dumb:( anyways i hope u like it maureen and im really sorry:((

sypnosis: a one-shot in which yeonjun struggles with buying the reader the perfect birthday present and in the midst of reliving some old memories, they create new ones.  2K WORDS

TW// mild use of vulgur language // very soft fluff

it was 2am when u heard something tick against your bedroom window. you tried to ignore but, it just kept getting louder. as you drew open the curtains you were met with the face of your beloved best friend, choi yeonjun.

"morning sleeping beauty" "its 2am" "the early bird catches the worm" he remarked as he climbed into your room and jumped onto your bed. you want to be mad at him from disturbing your precious sleep but, the truth is that this wasn't something new. it was quite normal for yeonjun to show up at your place at the strangest of times without any warning but that doesnt mean you weren't confused. 

"what's all this about yeonjun" you weren't exactly pleased with this spontaneous visit you valued your sleep and yeonjun knew that. "whats this?" you asked as he shoves a crumbled up piece of paper in you face. "this my dear is your wishlist from when you were 8" "how did you get that?" "we made them together on your 8th birthday, here look you wrote that these are the things you want to acomolish in ten years" the memories of your 8th birthday came flooding back. your mum had invited your friends over for a party and after everyone had left you and yeonjun stayed outside in your backyard colouring. then, yeonjun suggest you make a wishlist list of all the things you wanted to accomplish together before your 18th birthday

"i cant believe you still have this" "of course i still have it, i keep everything that's precious to me." "so you snuk into my room at 2am just to show me this?" "yep!" he smiled clearly very proud of himself. he leaned his head against your beds headboard, his eyes sparkling brighter than any star in the sky. you had to admit that your best friend was indeed beautiful which is why you can't understand why he hasn't gotten a girlfriend yet. not that it bothered you, in fact it would’ve bothered you even more if he did. you've always had a little crush on yeonjun but you never even dared to reveal your true feelings for the sake of the friendship. 

"hello? earth to y/n?" "oh sorry... thank you i love it, really" yeonjun mirrored your smile and with a playful glint in his eyes, he stood up and went back to the window and looked at you as if he was expecting you to follow him.

"what are you doing?" "read number 6" "mc donalds at 2am? really?? now??" "its 2am isn't it? hurry up birthday girl, im hungry" you blinked twice in confusion trying to process all that was happening. you ignorantly thought that the wishlist was the gift paying no attention to its contents, but of course there was always something more when it had to do with yeonjun. 

"are you sure this is legal?" "probably not...hey, dont give me that look this was your idea" you and yeonjun were currently at an abandoned apartment building ready to check number 9 off the wishlist, having a picnic on the roof of an abandoned building under the stars. you had to admit, this birthday present was becoming quite scary, but the thought of getting caught doing something this stupid with your best friend was more than exciting. you finally reached the top floor and opened the door which lead to the roof. the apartment building its self was about 12 stories high so, you were quite high up.

"the views so pretty" "yeah... beautiful" you didn't notice how yeonjun was looking at you with so much love in his eyes. to him you were the most beautiful and precious thing and seeing the way your eyes twinkled with happiness made his heart skip a beat. if it weren't for your impatient whines to set everything up and start eating, he would've told you how he felt right then and there, but everything happens for a reason. 

an hour later and you were both laying under the stars talking and laughing and sometimes not saying a word, the silence was never awkward between you two, in fact you found so much comfort in each others company that sometimes no words were needed.

"did you feel that?" "feel what?" "its raining" "what!? hurry grab the stuff lets-" you were starting to stand up when yoenjun pulled you back down. he reached inside his jean pockets and pulled out the whish list. "number 2" he said nonchalantly. number two was special to both of you. it was something you always wanted to do but never had the chance because your parents would scold you, over time you had forgotten about it...until now. yeonjun stood up and extended his hands to help you get up. he pulled you in close and started swaying from side to side.

"there's no music" you mumbled and right on que, he started humming your favourite song. it was a magical moment, just like you had dreamed about when you were eight. it felt like a movie scene and you didnt want it to end. yeonjun held you close as you rested your head against his chest and whispered and it was at that moment you both realised how deeply in love you were with each other.

"you know, when i was eight years old i considered myself a great artist. however, today...not so much” "come y/n its the last thing on the list we have to do it" "alright fine, open the paint bucket" number 10 was very... ambitious. you wanted to paint a disney castle on one of your bedroom walls. sure the idea was cute, but it would've been cuter if it was done by a professional and not by two teenagers who can barely draw stick figures. but alas, yeonjun insisted to stick to the list and so, here you both where, ready to (ruin) paint over your white bedroom wall. 

"ready y/n?" "nope" "good"

"THATS SO NOT A CASTLE" "WHAT DO MEAN ITS PERFECT" "lets just paint over it yeonjun"  "no. we're leaving it as it is. its got character. you clearly dont understand art." "oh really? do you understand this" as the last word rolled off of your tongue, you painted a nice blue line across yeonjuns arm. he laughed for a second, then got serious and started running after you with a paint brush drenched in white paint. your bedroom filled with laughter and screams as yeonjun picked you up and pinned against the wall. he was so dangerously close to your face that you could feel his breath fan over your lips. you didn't move nor did you want to. yeonjun however, inching closer and closer until you could feel his soft pink lips on yours. the kiss was soft and short after two seconds he pulled back with wide eyes an apology already prepared, but you didnt give him any time to say a word, instead you wrapped your arms around his neck tightly and drew him into a deeper kiss. yeonjun finally relaxed and melted in your embraced as he kissed you back with so much love and passion. his hands snaked around your waist and pulled you closer if that was even possible. you could feel his tongue poke against your lips asking for permission and you willingly let him in. as your tongues battled for danced around in each other’s mouths, yeonjun wrapped his hands around your thighs and lifted you up. you wrapped your legs around his waist as he walked towards the bed where he laid you down softly. 

"you sure this is ok?" he whispered above you.

"more than ok...please, dont stop again" that was enough for yeonjun to strip off his shirt and go back to kissing you. his lips travelled down towards your jaw and down to your neck. he started to kiss all over your neck.until he found your sweet spot. the sound of your breathless moans cause yeonjuns pants to tighten as he littered hickies all over your neck. he pulled back to admire his work and his eyes travelled upwards to find a bright smile on his face. yeonjun felt his heart flutter as the sight and leaned in again to place a chaste kiss on your lips before pulling your top over your head. 

"you're so beautiful" he whispered as his littered kisses all over your chest and stomach. his kisses kept getting lower and lower untill he reached the waistband of your sweats. "may i?" he asked to which you eagerly nodded. he removed your sweatpants dangerously slow which cause you to whine in impatience, earning a breathless laugh from the man above you. you were getting impatient by how slow things were moving so you flipped yeonjun over and sat on his lap. his reaction was priceless, eyes wide and mouth opened ever so slightly he looked like a deer in headlights. he watched eagerly as you reached behind your back to remove your bra and tossed it wherever. 

the sight in fornt of yeonjun was enough for him to buck his hips upwards. his hands travelled towards your chest as you bent down to kiss him again while grinding on him. yeonjun couldn't help but moan, he flipped you over again and stripped himself of his pants and boxers. "like what you see?" yeonjun laughed at your wandering eyes. you didnt respond instead pulled him into another deep kiss but this time it was sloppier. yeonjuns hands slid down and removed your underwear, his lips never leaving yours. you could feel him lining himself into your entrance and gripped his arms which caused yeonjun to pull away from the kiss.  “dont worry, i got you... i wont hurt you i promise” you trusted yeonjun with your life and you couldn't feel safer with him, but you were still nervous. he pushed inside of you and you winced and the streched. yeonjun didn't move a muscle he was so scared of hurting that he waited for your command before he started moving his hips. he kissed your lips to distract you from the pain

"i love you" he whispered "i love you too"yeonjun buried his head into your neck and soon, the pain turned into pleasure and you started moaning in yeonjuns ears."f-faster" you moaned out. yeonjun didnt hesitate to buck his hips forward at a faster rate. he sat up and lifted your legs over his shoulders and moaned at the feeling of your warm walls wrapped tightly around his length. the view of yeonjun moaning and bitimg his lips as his hear stuck to hia forehead due to the sweat, had you moaning and cleanching around him

"fuck- stop that or ill- fuck" he continued to pound into you not caring how loud the two of you were being. yeonjun looked at you and could tell by the way your face was twisting and how you were tightening around him that you were close."come with me baby" his growled in your ear. his voice alone was enough to send you over the edge as you came on his dick. the feeling of your walls pulsing around him caused him to pull out and come on your stomach. the view of yeonjun moaning as he came on you was breathtaking. daringly, you scooped up his cum from your stomach and placed your digits in your mouth, sucking every finger while keeping eye contact with yeonjun. yeonjun moaned at the sight and scooped up the remaining cum and shoved his fingers into your mouth and watched in awe as you sucked his fingers clean. after he pulled his fingers out he leaned in and kissed you once again, tasting himself on your tongue. 

he pulled himself back and laid beside you as you both started up at the ceiling, trying to process all that just happened. "well, that wasn't on the list" you laughed and yeonjun joined in as he pulled you closer. you rested your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around his figure after pulling the covers over both of you. yeonjun kissed the top of your head lovingly and whispered "i love you" “i love you too...we still need to paint over that castle by the way." "ssshhh dont ruin the moment"

#yeonjun soobin beomgyu taehyun heuningkai txt tommorowbytogether yeonjunsmut yeonjun fluff kpop requested imsosorry

[spiritcc]

Give me that spicy n'sync lore drop. 👀

aight i said i was serious about my 90s boyband opinions, which is maybe unnecessary as it is evident that nsync nSUCKS

now what is this! you may say, is this how you frame an academically-supported objective opinion, to which i say FUCKNIG WELCOME TO THE 90S, we OBJECTIFY sleazy underage boys, we have AWFUL takes, there will be NO objectivity here, it is year 1999 and i am rebekah at your high school canteen and we are about to throw hands!! 

let me frame it all with the fact that backstreet boys, bsb for short, are on the contrary god-shaped. the pinnacle of boyband quality. my life was unironically changed forever when i watched backstreet’s back mv, followed by larger than life. it was lifechanging, among many reasons, because it actually made me feel something, when i suddenly realised that i’ve seen nsync’s two vids years before bsb and walked away taking absolutely nothing with me. this bitch empty!!! yeet!!!!!

obviously the funny nsync lore drop everybody knows about is that them and bsb were literally under the same management. like literally under the same company, with the same composers and everything, the infamous rivalry was just happening between their rabid fans. their establishing producer was a big fucking scamming bitch, there was a story very familiar to all kpop enjoyers that he kept claiming that at least for nsync their earnings were still not enough to cover the costs of their training and shit and they were kept enslaved until they actually looked at their contracts properly and realised how bad they were. both bsb and nsync got their money and freedom, the scammy bitch went to jail bc his schemes went way beyond the pop scene, after which i think nsync exploded and bsb was kept afloat somewhat due to existing momentum. aka since 2000 nsync released bye bye bye, which was apparently meant as a fuck you to their scammy manager, followed by it’s gonna be me - both their staple songs, while bsb’s most iconic shit already occurred by then and kept them strong despite yea,,,, no giant hits following. why im mentioning all this is that after the change nsync somewhat got their own sound anD IT’S SO BAD LMAO

i think there are basically three stages of nsync’s sound: their european origins (and lots of techno as a result), their second hand status next to bsb, and their own style. compared to bsb, their own sound to me was empty as SHIT!!!! i dont know how to describe it im not a musical critic, but listening to nsync before bsb just put an ironic smirk on my face, like ha these were sure the funny 90s! empty-headed pop, frosted tips, cheezy clips, all the shit. bsb blew me the fuck away because despite their own fantastic awfulness in places, there was something that made me Feel. i dont know what it is or how, even with their generic BELIEB IN URSELF BABE XOXO songs that get forgotten the second they play, i still believed them because it felt to me like they know exactly what they are singing about. there was something extremely sincere about their generic statements, supported by what are probably very hard experiences in their lives. with nsync it’s just all empty pop. with all due hatred to j*stin t*mberlake, he did say he felt like some of his band members did not feel serious about music like he did and i can very much understand this statement, they sang just to sing and it always showed. with a comparative point now i simply do not buy them.

their old shit is of course, hilarious, this is the only mv i want yall to see of nsync and remember them like this

cackling i thought that hey, the song is pretty different from their usual style, it’s pleasant even! and what do you know, the song is a bsb reject, was given to the younger sibling instead. 

yes i do not like nsync but i do my dues and listen to their shit, and i very much do have an unironic favorite. a song that i genuinely, sincerely enjoy:

and it is a bsb reject :)) 

and this :)) is what i feel everytime i go back to listen to these songs again, because the only songs of nsync that i genuinely like were all meant for the better band and it fuckign shows. can you imagine lmao

so why do i like this song? still their early days, a good bsb feel sure, a gr9 mv in my opinion, but there is just something,,,,,,so nice about the atmosphere of it all. the boys all look sincere, the mv captures their simplicity and sicc moves (no secret here nsync were always the better dancers than bsb), they all looks so passionate about being on screen. i just watch it, listen to the song and get that yearning feeling for the days when like,,,,,can you imagine saying that,,,, there were real boybands and real pop. this is how it feels to me, there’s just something so special and simple about it that it feels almost genius. i cant even imagine bsb singing this anymore, they would not top jc’s voice here. but what i like the most about this song and clip is that it gave attention to all members, and this is where my biggest issue with nsync starts

with the no strings attached album, or what is their “new” sound, it all became jc, justin, and three backup dancers, and it is driving me fucking INSANE. since j*stin retrospectively already buried himself and we all hate him now, it already sickens me to look at this bitch who already at the age of like what?? 17??? became an opportunistic bloodsucker who was quick to drop the band, PR himself through poor britney and then fucking walk over her dead body just to stay relevant. absolutely sickening, like genuinely disgusting how every single piece of information i ever knew about him was basically his attempt to build his career while sacrificing others. all you see under nsync’s vids is cries of how jc was supposed to make it instead, not only is his voice not this fucking obnoxious, but he is genuinely a nicer person, AND allegations have it that timberlake indirectly killed his career too! after the superbowl incident, jc was supposed to perform at the next one with his tbh sleazy oversexual songs, but got removed since the organisers feared another backlash after justin. so this bitch even managed to kill his own band member!! 

i cant even watch bye bye bye as it switches to them dancing and all members wear black but justin, a little fucking king among his peasants, the only breakout star we need to look at, fuck you. that fucking pigeon nodding he always does as well fuck youuuuu. sure in bsb it’s mostly three people singing while kevin and howie are like, Contributing, but 3v2 plus how all the members are given attention and that no, they do all sing and it’s not a rare occurrence, is simply not to be compared with 2v3 and total obscurity that is happening in nsync. nsync were meant to be an a capella band, did you fucking know that, where you can hear why lance’s bass (hehe) is what keeps their sound alive, but the total dirty ass that was done to chris and joey is absolutely palpable. chris is a fucking countertenor and if their early songs were not an indication of that, his lead in a lion sleeps tonight should be a good enough of an awakening. not even mentioning i thought she knew where both him and joey show that they were fucking MILES ahead of j*stin and for what??? to be turned into backup dancers?? to spark thousands of surprised comments at their talent, with people sayng they thought these two were just lucky to be in the band like talentless background noise that they are???? what the fuck????? and their more or less final single GONE is the fattest full stop @ this embarrassment, where since justin wrote the song for michael jackson but it didnt make it into the album, he decided to give to nsync aka sing the entire song himself while the rest four get to utter GONE 4 times in the chorus?????? as the comments say, nsync was sure fucking GONE after this song and in more ways than one and i fucking hate it the most that why even have a band if 1.5 people is what you actually cared about.

did you know that bsb never disbanded? they are still very much together and active, they had their personal hardships, but they are brothers to each other and for nick especially they are more of a family to him than the toxic nightmare that is his actual one. they even released a new album in 2018 and their new songs, albeit written by sh*wn mendes, are actually pretty decent. like i wouldnt listen to them casually, not my type still, lyrics still cringe bc mendes, but there is still quality, and all members are clearly experienced performers by now, and they are still passionate and strong together. something that nsync is clearly not, and the fact that backstreet has stuck together for longer than most marriages in hollywood can maybe be the finishing testament to why they are superior, and as i have mentioned many times, sincere. i guess just look at the simple numbers that are their youtube views, where >900m on i want it that way alone is more than the views of all nsync’s clips combined. nsync were the big thing at the time, but as that time passed, it became clear which band has left the biggest impact.

#you thought i was joking about my intent to express hot opinions?????? #@ me to receive a detailed analysis on why backstreet are cool as fuck

[simply-sams-things]

Brian Help Me Please!

So I kinda came up with this last minute and wrote down for you guys so enjoy!

Summary: you work at a dance studio and was helping out 5 other men to do a simple dance with your best friend Mitchell when they do something you didnt like you go to your boyfriend Brian.

Warnings: Attempted rape :( yelling and sadness sorry for this one guys!

/////////////

You thought you trusted them.

You never thought they would try to do this.

What happened or what was going to happen you wernt sure. All you need to do was be safe. Find Brian. And be safe. Brian was your safety.

You ran to the park and had tears rushing down your face from when they started. The recording studio was next to the park so you ran there and by some odd miricle you got it together and walked inside.

Don, a security guard, saw you and smiled. You did so back and looked down while your eyes got watery. He almost asked if you were okay but knew you would start crying and he didn't want that so he let you through. He noticed how fast you ran to the studio and knew something was wrong.

You heard Freddie and John talking on the other side of the door but they stooped as they heard a sudden rush of footsteps come to the door. John opened the door and saw you bright red and on the brink of tears

"(Y/N) whats wrong? Are you okay?" He asked pulling you into the room.

Freddie placeed his had on the small of your back and you flinched and unfortunately he noticed.

"(Y/N) who touched you?" Freddie whispered into your ear so John couldn't hear. You sat down on a sofa looking for Brian.

"They are recording (Y/N) what's going on?"

"John I just need Brian"

"(Y/N) who touched you?" Freddie said loud and stern. Johns eyes grew big and you started to cry. Hard. Freddie had this thing with knowing exactly what was wrong with you without you saying a word.

"I'm fine Fred I just need Bri-" you said as your lover walked in Roger just behind. Both saw you and rushed over asking the same ones John was asking. You said you needed Brian and Brian only.

"Alright. Okay its alright im right here" he said holding you close and petting your hair.

The others left the room. Brian sat down next to you and pulled you close and let you get yourself togther as you sobbed into his chest. After you did so he asked.

"Tell me what happend"

////////

1 hour before

You walked into your dance studio. The one you and your best friend Mitchell ran. You and Mitchell had been teaching 5 other men to do a simple routine. But you were the only female on the team.

You were teaching the how to lift you in the air (like from I want to break free but this is many years before that) today. It was the last part before you had the whole routine done. After rehersel you called Bri to tell him you were going to be home in an hour and he said he would be home in two. You said your I love yous and goodbyes before hanging up.

After that you went to grab your bag and water bottle, when you noticed Mitch and the guys talking before suddenly stopping as you walked over.

"Hey I'm going yo go home I'm not feeling well"

"Oh? Can we do anything to help?" One of the guys, Blake, asked. You thought it was wierd for him to ask that but thought that it was nice of him to say at the same time.

"No im good, thank you though" you replied

"Are you sure (Y/N)?" Anthony asked moving closer to you.

"I'm fine really" you stated taking a step back only to be bumped into Mitch.

"Sorry" you said "I need to go see you next week" heading for the door.

"But we dont want you to leave (Y/N)" Mitch told you grabbing your wrist and holding it tightly.

"Mitch let go" you said sternly and trying to move back only for him to hold on stronger.

"We dont want you to leave (Y/N)" They all said in sync. Michael another one moved to the door and locked it. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

You were then being touched at the small of your back and told.

"You can trust us (Y/N) we just want to make you feel good" It was Mitch

"Stop touching me!" You snapped trying to dart for the door but only to be tripped by Anthony.

"It will only hurt if you move" someone whisperd into your ear as the picked you up. You let out a sob.

"Let me go!" You screamed but a hand coverd your mouth.

"Shhhh baby we just want to give you pleasure"

Someone, no all of them had their pants down and three of them had nothing on. Somebody, you didn't know who started reaching for your pants but you were screaming and kicking the whole time. You then had enough power to bite the hand covering your mouth and darted for the door. You unlocked it, still sobbing running out of the studio towards the park and you realised that the guys were near the park so you went to the recording studio and thats how you ended up telling Brian your horrifying story.

/////

Now

You burried your face into Brian chest sobbing. He let out a few cries and was pissed. How could anyone do this to you. The other guys including Miami, were mad and had tears falling from their eyes. The listened the whole time to your story and everyone who heard it, hearts broke into a million pieces as you sobbed into Brian. Thats when they had enough. The rushed into the room and began hugging you and telling you that you were alright and that you were safe.

After a good hour you had fallen asleep on Brian, softly sniffling as you slept.

"Brian we need to do something" Deac/ky said.

"I know, well I do, but I'm not leaving her. Not now until she is safe."

"No we all do dear, she is our girl too" Freddie told him. "I belive John is the one who introduced her to you and us".

"I know but im her boyfried I want and have to protect her at all cost" he told them looking down at you and your red face and puffy eyes.

"Guys I need to take her home"

"I agree" the three said including Miami.

They left and Brian woke you up. You woke up panicked but saw Brian and calmed down.

"Its okay I'm here. I'm here let's take you home" he suggested.

You got hame and went to change as Brian made you some sleepy time tea. You climed into bed and asked Brian to cuddle with you and he did. You never wanted to leave his grasp.

"I love you" you told him. It was the first I love you in the relationship.

"I love you too (Y/N)" he said kissing you softly. You both slept within minutes.

//////

Thats all!

Tag list

@committed-no-crime

#freddie mercury #queen #brian may #john deacon #roger taylor #ben hardy #bohrap #gwilym lee #joe mazzello #lucy boyton #rami malek #x reader #brian may x reader #queen x reader

[oswald-privileges]

Loudmouth

(I wrote some statement fic. It’s been a heck of a while since I wrote anything for fandom.)

Statement of Ulla Ness, regarding, um... a peculiar transformation. Original statement given March 14th, 1999. Audio recording by Christopher Peake, in an… unprofessional capacity. Statement begins.

I still don’t see why I had to come to you. I know you have an email address, so wouldn’t it have been easier to just scan the form and send it to me? Hell, I would have taken a physical copy sent to me in the post. It would have been slower, but it would have meant I could have stayed at home. But no. I asked, and you just gave me a lot of waffle about how you have ‘strict acquisition policies’, alongside directions that had been copied from google maps. Which I know, because I checked.

It’s not that I’m lazy, you understand, far from it. I used to have what I regarded as quite the active social life. But recently that’s become impossible for me to maintain, for a number of reasons. Which are also the reasons that I’ve come to talk to you.

I used to be quite a religious person. Still am, I suppose. I’m not entirely sure. I was a member of the congregation of Saint Mary’s, a small anglican church in a small, anglican village up in Lincolnshire. Not everybody there was particularly devout, but it wasn’t one of those places where it especially mattered. It was more about the sense of community we had. Catching up with each other after communion on Thursdays, singing in the choir, arranging cake sales or coffee mornings as fundraisers for whatever bit of the building had fallen off now. I’ve been attending since I was little, and more or less grew up with the congregation.

I miss it quite badly, if I’m being honest. I’ve always been the sort to need other people, but I didn’t realise quite how much losing them would affect me. You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone and all that, I suppose.

It started with another fundraiser, a jumble sale this time. I had volunteered to help manage the event, so I was in charge of sorting through the items that people had brought in for us to sell. Like I said, not everyone there was strictly devout, and didn’t always take care with what they decided to donate. Some people seemed to use it as more of an excuse to toss legitimate junk in our direction and call it a good deed.

This was definitely the case with Mister Ashley. He attended purely because his mother was too old to walk by herself, and I rather think that she insisted that he stay with her throughout the service. It was definitely at her behest that he took part in any communal activities. She would always announce that he would be happy to run stalls or make tea or some other menial duty, while he sat by her side, stony-faced, and saying nothing at all.

The only time I remember him giving any sort of reaction was when when his mother announced that her Jamie would be happy to donate some of his shop’s excess stock for the jumble sale. I remember, he turned to her with the strangest look on his face. At the time, I thought it was one of badly suppressed outrage. I assumed that she had simply gone a bit too far in volunteering his services; Mister Ashley was a second hand book seller, and owned the Jabberwock Bookshop just off from Memorial Square. It can’t have been all that easy to turn a profit. Thinking back on it now, though, and I wonder if his expression was something sharper than just anger. If it could have been alarmed, almost panicked. But I believe that is likely be nothing more than hindsight colouring my memories. If he had had some way of knowing, had been frightened of something like that which came to pass, then… well. I cannot honestly say I ever truly liked James Ashley, but neither can I believe that he would be as cruel or as cowardly as to not have said or done anything.

As it was, he brought the books to the side room the next day, where I was going through the donations and sorting the sellable items from those things too broken, torn, stained, or just plain unusable. I had just set aside yet another jigsaw- this one with almost two thirds of the pieces obviously missing- when he knocked on the outer door. In spite of the heavy rain, he wasn’t wearing a coat, hat, or boots. He didn’t say a word to me when I opened it, just shouldered his way in, dropped a heavy cardboard box on the floor by the unsorted donations, and walked out again. He did this three more times, leaving the door swinging behind him, letting in strong gusts of wind and rain, and reinscribing a damp trail of rainwater on the carpeted floor. Then he was gone as abruptly as he had arrived.

Ashley had taken better care to protect the books from the rain than himself. The cardboard was soaked through, but the books inside had been wrapped in several layers of plastic sheeting. They were stacked upright, and had been fitted in without any attempt to force too many into a single space. They were all, without exception, worn, faded, and almost completely without interest. Paperback romances long since out of print, old text books, children’s encyclopedias. It was rather a relief, if I’m honest. I could just reach into the boxes, grab a book, give it a flick through, and place it on the “for sale” pile.

I was about halfway through the last box when my fingers brushed something that did not feel at all like paper. It was dense and yielding, and ever so slightly damp. I recoiled, shock and disgust crawling their prickling way up my arm. My fingers looked clean, but the ghost feeling of something sticky still clung to them.

My first thought that it was some nasty practical joke. That Ashley, stung by his mother’s willingness to give away his stock, had put something disgusting in there by way of relieving his feelings. But that would have been ridiculous- he was a grown man, for goodness sakes, not a slighted child. It was more likely that the plastic keeping the books wrapped up had slipped, and allowed the rain to seep in through the sides. That was the more likely explanation.

It seemed as though I was right when I looked into the box properly, and saw nothing there but more books. But when I reached in again, all I felt was rough, dry paper. Confused, I went through the contents more slowly, looking where I placed my hand and at the books I chose.

I didn’t feel it again until the fifth book I picked up, that same almost-damp feeling. It was broad and set in landscape, almost like a sketchbook. It was dense with pages all jammed together- dense and heavy. It flopped bonelessly in my hand, and I needed to support it from underneath before I could read the title.

Hymnal, it read. The gold letters gleamed wetly on the slick cover.

It appeared to be full of sheet music. No titles or lyrics, just scratched staves and notes that meandered up and down the lines as though drunk. The smell that rose from the pages as I turned them was odd and unpleasant. I wondered if the leather binding them hadn’t been properly cured. Those areas of page that weren’t covered in music were full of sketches, but so dense and overlapping that I couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be. And, I realised with an unpleasant start, the cover beneath my hands was warm, as though I was touching a live thing.

Suddenly, I’d had enough. I was sitting here, working myself up over an old, graffitied book for no good reason. I shut the thing hurriedly, and it snapped closed with a heavy slithering of pages. I caught the soft part of my forefinger on one of them, and a tiny bead of scarlet began to well from the wound. The stinging was welcome- it gave me something to focus on, mundane annoyance drowning out the confusion that had been threatening to become fear.

I dropped the book onto the discard pile. I couldn’t sell something like that, that much was obvious. Then I picked it up again, and dashed through the rain to the rubbish bins outside. I tossed it in, and followed it up with as much of the discard pile as I could bag up in one go, burying the thing underneath threadbare scarves, broken plastic dolls, and half used art supplies.

I felt a little better when it was done, but not much. Whatever those hymns were praising, I don’t think it was Our Lord.

The cut on my finger didn’t heal like it should. It stopped bleeding without any trouble, but the edges became raised, reddened and sensitive to the touch. I dabbed at it with antiseptic and did my best to put it out of my mind. I succeeded at first. I had plenty to keep me busy, both at church and at my workplace, and for a day or two, I completely forgot about it.

At least until it opened up again.

I don’t remember what caused it, or if anything caused it at all. Just that I was reaching for something, and there was the feeling of… unpeeling, almost, the cold feeling of fresh air on wet skin. I checked to see if the cut was bleeding again.

Instead of a cut, I found myself looking at a tiny, fully formed mouth.

The raised, reddened edges I had thought were a sign of infection had become minute lips. They were slightly parted, and behind them I could see the tiniest slivers of white. And behind that, a dark space where something wet shifted.

I didn’t look at it for long. Already I was reaching for the first aid kit, hastily covering the cut- the mouth- with a plaster. I was already convincing myself that what I’d just seen was some kind of infection I was too squeamish to look at, and that since I couldn’t feel any pain, I should probably go to the doctors, in case it was nerve damage or something. The impression of having seen a mouth rather than a cut was an unpleasant trick my mind had played on me, and one I didn’t feel like closely examining. I told myself I had imagined it.

I hadn’t, though. I could taste the soft fabric patch on the plaster.

I really did mean to go to the doctors. Mouth or no mouth, whatever was happening to the cut on my finger worried me. I even got as far as making an appointment. But the next day I went into work, and there was an accident involving a slippery patch of floor and a very, very sharp knife that I was carrying at the time. I ended up with a nasty slice parallel with the underside of my ribcage.

This time, it was obvious how quickly it stopped bleeding, how it was practically dry before I even changed the gauze once. How the scabs began to flake before I even touched them, leaving nothing but those raised, reddening edges around the cut itself.

I didn’t go to that doctor’s appointment. I don’t think it would have helped me if I had.

It took longer for the second cut to open, but when it did, I could stand in front of the mirror to properly see the flat, white, human teeth, and the tongue that moved behind them.

It didn’t feel alien. That’s what surprised me most. I was scared, of course I was scared, I was growing new bits, opening up in places that I shouldn’t- but that was just it. It was my body doing this, not some… weird infection or surgery. Whatever was happening, it felt like an extension of myself.

I could move them, I found. Not as consciously as I could my original mouth, the one in its proper position on my face, but sort of like moving a limb after it’s fallen asleep. It took concentration, like I was working through partial numbness. Like I needed to focus to wake them up.

I didn’t spend very long doing that, though. I would realise with a start that what I was doing wasn’t normal, it wasn’t sane. I would pull my shirt back down or re-plaster my finger with a feeling almost like shame. I wasn’t as scared as I should have been, and that in itself was somehow a lot more frightening.

I’m not clumsy. I can’t be, considering the sharp tools I have to handle at work. But I started to accumulate injuries. Innocuous things at first. Paper cuts from the prayer books during mass, scrapes from the edges of the metal benches at work. And then other things. Pushing down a door-handle would lay my palm open as though I’d been struck with a metal ruler. The pressure of my jacket across my shoulders would tear the skin. I woke in bed one morning to discover that the folded sheets around me had left cuts going from my hip to my collar bone.

Every single one of them bled, reddened, and opened.

The mouths started to become restless as their number grew. They tried to chew on the clothes I wore to cover them, and if I didn’t focus, they would let out soft, but audible moans or sighs. I tried to quiet them. I even tried feeding them, though I only did that once. It seemed to help, but the mangled sensation of swallowing with a throat that seemed to be lodged under my right kidney was so disorienting I couldn’t bring myself to do it again.

I hadn’t stopped going out altogether. I left the house less, certainly, but as uncertain and uncomfortable as my changing existence was, I didn’t want to give up the company of other people altogether. I get lonely easily.

So, one Friday, when when there was so little skin left under my clothes and gloves that no new mouths could easily form, I patched my face and neck with gauze, and went to take my place in the choir again.

Nobody really seemed to notice anything different about me. I had all the right stories lined up for when I was asked about what had happened to my face, but almost nobody did. A few condolences, a few jokes, and that was it. People apparently preferred to gossip about the death of Mrs Ashley, and how her James had stopped coming to church now, and how they had known his heart wasn’t in it all along.

It felt awful. There I was, standing in the middle of them, skin to skin almost, with the most fragile disguise imaginable hiding a secret that would ruin their perception of the world for good- and they were too wrapped up in their own smug assurance of their own piety to notice. I offered up a brief prayer for patience, but like all my prayers lately, I don’t think I was offering it to the God whose praises we’d all gathered to sing.

And when we raised our voices together for All Things Bright And Beautiful, and I opened my mouth to join in, and then opened my mouth again, and opened my mouth again, and opened my mouth again- I wasn’t singing praises to that God either.

I didn’t realise that the others had stopped at first. It wasn’t until I glanced to one side, and saw Julie Wright staring at me with her powerless mouth open and unmoving, that I realised I was singing in harmony with myself.

I broke off, suddenly embarrassed and frightened by the way that they were all looking at me. There was something like awe in their expressions, but there was something else there too. Something that shuddered and recoiled. I desperately tried to remember the words I’d been singing, if I had gotten them right. I had the horrible sense that I might have subverted something holy.

Adam Bromley was the one to break the silence.

“Well now. You never told us you were getting private training!”

And just like that, the spell was broken. The unexpressed disgust sank back beneath their faces, and the others took up the idea almost with relief. A beautiful voice, they told me, what trick did they teach me to make it resonate like that? I forced a smile and said something non-committal and when we took up the tune again, I was careful to sing only the words that were on the page in front of me.

My own relief was short-lived. When I got home, I found the skin I had left was being pulled apart by the restless movements of the mouths. Blood stained the underside of my shirt, and I couldn’t stop the moans and hissings any more than I could have controlled a spasm or a muscular tic.

I didn’t sleep that night, and called in sick to work the next day. I lay on the bed, and stared up at the ceiling, trying very hard not to move.

It wasn’t any use. My skin had become so fragile that even getting up and walking to the kitchen caused it to split, the blood barely having time to dry before the wound began to twitch and whisper. All my fascination was gone now, as were all my attempts to ignore what was happening. All I did was lie on the bed, and let myself slowly drown in my own body. I lived like that for a week.

When next Friday evening came, my entire body burst into song.

I writhed and moaned and hummed without will, without choice, throwing out snatches of hymn before discarding them as not what I wanted, not right. And for the first time, the indistinct murmurs and whispers grew louder, began to form words. Prayers that had been chewed out of shape, pleas for more, more mouths, more brothers and sisters, to come out of hiding and join the great curdling of flesh.

This went on for the entire night.

That was when I decided that I needed to do something. I’d let… whatever this was go on for too long, long beyond the point of saving myself. But I wanted to tell someone first. So I dragged myself to my computer, and searched as best I could. It’s difficult to type with only a confusion of tongues.

And that’s where you came in. You aren’t special. You were just the closest place that didn’t either ignore my emails, or reply with not so gentle suggestions that I see a psychologist.

I don’t think I’ll be leaving my home again, once I get back. I doubt I’ll even bother uncovering, although there’s no-one there to see me. For all that I wanted to let someone know, I don’t want to be seen.

The cupboard below the stairs locks from the inside. I can push the key out from underneath the crack in the door.

Whatever is happening to me, I won’t allow it come to fruition.

Post-statement follow-up: There wasn’t anyone under the stairs when I went to check. The lock on cupboard door was broken, and so was the one on the back door. Either Ms Ness was, um… successful in her attempts to… halt her transformation, and a housebreaker with some seriously questionable motives took what was- what was left of her. Or she wasn’t. And her resolve either waned or the situation was, um. Taken out of her hands. Or. Whatever she had instead of hands.

I wasn’t… going to record this. It’s not my job, strictly speaking, but I was reading some of the old statements, and this one just… sort of caught my eye. And I’ve seen the Archivist and some of the others do recordings, and it just looked so… I wanted to try it out. I’ll be taking the tape with me, though. None of the others need to know about this.

#The Magnus Archives #tma #the magnus institute #whoops its all OCs

[lenalvthor]

Ayyyyy, so idk of this is the right blig, but if you wanted ideas for little mini fics relating to the hsau, I'd love to see how Sara and Ava's relationship was before the whole thing with Ava's coming out. Anyway, I love the fic and I hope you have a wonderful day!

hi!! 💛apologies for leaving this in my inbox for so long, this last week has been a ROLLERCOASTER but i promise you, i did see this and get very excited abt it and send it to rachel and we were both freaked out a bit abt getting prompts for the fic

so we have many, many ideas about pre-fic avalance in this au. like Many. many to the point that we don’t have the time to write an actual mini fic about it because the fic would be the furtherest thing from mini. also, bc it would be rlly weird to have to try and go back and write them before all of this, like we go back and read ‘don’t you like you’ and everything feels so strange bc we wrote it before we had this big detailed plan for everything that was gonna happen between them and it just feels crazy that they were in this place where they weren’t even friends let alone in love 

but what i am gonna do. is give you a fuckload of bullet headcanons instead. so i hope that suffices bc buckle up, there’s gonna be a few 🌈🌈

so ava and sara don’t go to the same elementary school. they’re both star city natives though so they kind of know of each other. sara did dance when she was little and was in layla’s dance class and ava was sometimes there when barbara came to pick her up etc etc. 

(ava’s school was a little nicer, was the fancier star city school that barbara teaches at. damien insisted nora went there bc of it’s good reputation and gary’s mom wanted the best possible start for her son, hence how the three of them ended up there and became friends) 

so by the time middle school comes around and they actually become a part of each other’s spheres, they know the other vaguely by name and the like 

in middle school, ava and sara meet and they don’t quite get along but they don’t rlly know each other so it’s not an issue - sara’s this reckless trouble maker that ava wants nothing to do with bc she wants to just do well and be liked and successful and normal while sara’s off getting into fights and sneaking out of school and never doing anything by the rules, so not interacting pretty much suits them both just fine

until in 8th grade, after spencer leaves to join the army and ava’s still trying to piece herself back together and he left around the time that she decides she was going to quit basketball after this season and she was scared she might be gay and starts vehemently ignoring any and all possibilities of that fact - that’s when sara lance comes out as bi

and sara doesn’t know why ava suddenly makes a point to argue with her more than usual, or call her out in her bullshit, or just be a general pain in the ass but she is, and what sara doesn’t realise is that ava’s angry that sara came out bc it put ava in a position where we had to actually confront herself abt her sexuality

sara has a quiet suspicion of why ava’s acting like this, and it would sort of make sense that ava would be gay (or bi, but sara thinks gay) but also she doesn’t wanna assume so she leaves it and just pushes ava’s buttons just as hard 

but it’s not all bad, bc the day nyssa and sara start dating, everyone at school is talking about it and ava knows her friends will be too and she’s terrified bc she doesn’t want to know if they think it’s weird, but kuasa just goes “whoa, no way” and lily whistles and says “damn, they’re probably the hottest couple at school” and gary doesn’t say anything but he’s got this look of curiosity and relief on his face and nora is looking at him carefully before she just glances over at sara and says “good for them” and ava doesn’t know if she wants to laugh or cry with relief

(and it’s still 2 and half years before she even tells nora - the first person she comes out to - but it’s a start at least) 

ava and sara get better for a bit in 8th grade, but then high school happens and suddenly they’re in the same homeroom and heaps of classes together and being partnered / grouped up for projects all the time and they both just get on each other’s nerves to no end

both of them are vying to be rip’s favourite in class and it makes ava furious and sara so smug because ava wanted to be the teachers pet bc she worked hard and did a load of extra curriculars and was always polite and on time and we’ll behaved, whereas rip just liked sara because she was entertaining and good at soccer and a little too cocky for her own good

and around this time, sara is slowly becoming friends with amaya and ray and jax and nate, is being less reckless and dangerous and unbearable as she was in middle school, starting to mellow a bit

but anyway; they’re at each other’s throats all of freshman year but their rivalry ends up being kind of fun bc arguing in class when it’s actually about school isn’t as frustrating for all the teachers and sara notices that ava actually makes her think, makes her feel smart, bc she can actually kind of keep up with the smartest girl in their entire grade, and ava meanwhile realises that sara is actually pretty smart, she’s actually kind of a genius and if she actually tried, she could probably give ava a run for her money and that both infuriates and pleasantly surprises ava 

but then early sophomore year, nyssa leaves. sara’s not at school for a few days and by the time she comes back, everyone Knows because it’s high school and nothing can stay secret for long, and everyone’s trying not to gossip bc sara’s slowly become quite popular around school but they can’t help it, they all wanna know what’s going on

and ava detests sara but she’s always admired her for coming out, for being so proud abt it and dating nyssa when there was like a grand total of 3 other lgbt people at school all of whom fit every single stereotype that ava wanted nothing to do with (and she’ll never admit it, but she had always felt kind of safe and comforted knowing nyssa and sara were dating bc it made her feel like she would be ok one day), so she can’t even imagine how sara feels especially if the rumours about why nyssa left are true 

sara’s heartbroken and angry and confused and she keeps pushing ava with jabs and mocking retorts and remarks that are lot harsher and more biting than usual but ava just smothers the urge to respond and rolls her eyes pointedly and ignores her bc she knows sara’s just lashing out

and at one point in gym, sara just drops her back and turns to face ava and demands “what the fuck is your problem sharpe?” and ava crosses her arms and goes “pretty sure you’re the once with the problem here, lance.” to that, sara glares and spits out “i’m not the one walking around with this fucking holier than thou attitude as if you’re better than me. can you at least argue back instead of rolling over like a doormat?” and ava literally wants to throw a dodgeball at her but she just holds her ground, doesn’t say anything, keeps sara’s gaze before biting her lip and looking away for the briefest of seconds. sara makes this smug huff of triumph, as though ava’s abt to fight back but ava just looks back at sara with an expression that’s too gentle, and says “i’m sorry about nyssa, sara.” and goes to join her dodgeball team

(amaya comes over to ask sara what it was about and sara can’t bring herself to answer, just shakes her head because she doesn’t quite know what just happened) 

things get better quickly, like. sara would never say it at the time but zari is this refreshing burst of fresh air who didn’t know nyssa the way all her other friends did and it’s so nice to have her around, even tho she’s still quite new. and then wally comes to star city and everything is fun and exciting w the legends and things aren’t perfect, definitely not bc oliver and laurel break up and sara and laurel have been fighting just usually like sisters do and dinahs been calling, on saras ass abt her slipping grades at school and sara just wants to piss them both off so she hooks up w oliver (and they’ve known each other for so long that they both feel guilty abt it and they try to make it a Thing bc they don’t want to admit that they both just used each other for different reasons)

it it’s sometime after that, after she and oliver collapsed under the very weak foundation their relationship was already built on, after laurel starts dating tommy, after amaya promises sara she’s not a bad person for what happened with oliver, it’s sometime then that ava makes that challenging retort abt sara even trying to get a better grade than her in french

and all sara can think of is laurel, the way laurel hadn’t been mad when she hooked up with oliver, the way laurel had just snuck into her room late at night and slipped under the covers and hugged sara close as sara broke down abt why their mom just didnt care abt all the good things sara was doing, the way laurel had softly murmured “you’re brilliant sara. you are, you’re so smart and so capable and if mom can’t see that, then she doesn’t deserve to.”

so sara does try. and she gets an a+. and the beam on laurel’s face when she sees it on sara’s desk, the pride on quentin’s when sara tells him - sara never looks back (and she also starts to look a bit more at ava, because maybe she’s not all horrible) 

gary comes out at the very end of sophomore year, sara goes over to give him a hug and she sees the expression on ava’s face - proud and protective and kind but also sort of hurt and definitely, definitely jealous, and sara suddenly remembers the way ava had acted towards her after sara had first come out and she remembers her vague, kind of unfounded assumption that maybe ava was gay, realises that ava’s never had a boyfriend, never said yes to any of the numerous attractive guys who have asked her out 

but also, sara’s known ava for like, 4 years by now and she knows what kind of family ava has and she feels this sudden ache in her chest bc ava must be in the most difficult position - sara doesn’t even know if ava is aware of it, so she doesn’t wanna say anything or offer support (also bc ava still grinds her gears to no end)

but she just keeps an eye out, checks ava’s facebook / instagram every once in a while to see if she’s posted anything abt it or added smth like a pride flag to her bio

and then on a sunday evening in october junior year, ava comes out on facebook. sara doesn’t see it first, in fact, she’s lying on the living room couch trying to not fall asleep reading her social studies text book when from the armchair, laurel lets out a quiet “huh” and both quentin and sara say “what?” at the same time and laurel goes “ava sharpe’s in your grade, right sara?” and sara nods and quentin’s like “is that the girl you did that chem assignment with earlier in the year?” and sara wrinkles her nose and goes “unfortunately. she’s a pain in my ass.” and laurel just hums and says “well, she just came out.”

sara almost falls off the couch, scrambling into a sitting position and snatching laurel’s phone and ignoring laurel’s protesting “hey!”

she reads the post through several times before she goes to comment and realises she’s on laurel’s phone, grabbing her own but then she hesitates, wanting to write something genuine but it feels too vulnerable so instead goes “ffs sharpe, on top of everything else, i now have to compete with you for hot girls too?”, but she opens messenger and goes “hey, just wanted to say congrats on coming out. i know it’s nowhere near easy to tell your family so like, hope that went okay. and i’m here if you wanna talk abt it at all.”

and the day after, as they’re clearing up microscopes and stuff in bio, ava quietly thanks her for her message and sara shrugs, goes “i get it.” and ava pauses before quietly admitting “you know i always admired you for being out. especially when we were so young back in middle school. i’d only just started thinking about it then and … i was a mess. seeing you being out and happy and just - the same person you’d always been … that helped more than you know.”

and it’s probably the most meaningful conversation they’ve ever had (or at least had in a Long time)

and 4 days later, ava shows up on sara’s doorstep after a fight with her mom at dinner and this entire fic began. 

also, for your own reading pleasure, some other random moments we thought of; 

sara only ever called ava ‘sharpe’ or ‘sharpie’ or any other variation of her name until they were both 15/16

ava used to roll her eyes every time sara got a a bad grade because she could be so much better if she tried, but she doesnt

sara nearly started a fight the first time she and ava had to work together on a project, and once they started it and it became clear they worked well together she was the Most Annoyed™️

back in middle school ava always scoffed and made some patronising comment every time she watched someone break up a fight sara had gotten into (except for the one time in the first few weeks of class when she had to stop sara throwing her second, or maybe third punch at a homophobic jerk in their class who’d cornered her on the way back from school - that time she shoved him away and watched him go before turning and cautiously asking if sara was okay, and sara glared at her and told her she’d had everything under control before storming off in the opposite direction)

there are probably many many headcanons for this part of the universe that we will think of but i hope this suffices for now, feel free to come yell about anything legends / fic related bc this was so much fun 💖💞

#lot #legends of tomorrow #avalance #you make me smile #anonymous #cileme writes #lot hs au