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chrysalizzm · 3 years

Note

Do you have fic recs or head canons? please ramble for paragraphs im bored and looking for something to read.

oh boy do i have some fic recs for you (and everyone who sees this), my friend! this one is quite long because there are a lot of fics i like and this isn’t all of them, so if you’d like more, you can check out my bookmarks page ^^

The Run and Go by Numanum

“That’s not fair,” Bad protests. Dream raises an eyebrow at him and jerks his tied hands in emphasis, clearly saying that none of this is fair.

“Look, you keep running! Who runs if they’re not guilty?” Bad challenges, staring him down with obvious distrust from the generous distance of exactly five feet. It’s fair, as much as Dream hates to admit it; it’s not like he’s been the most honest hostage in the past, with all of his escaping and running and framing himself for his own murder, apparently.

“Only the good die young, and only the guilty run,” Technoblade chimes in, holding his own potato and sitting in the snow like it’s not cold at all.

A hot flash of irritation burns through him.

“Someone being chased?” he counters sarcastically, jerking his tied wrists up again to wave them in front of the group. Sapnap laughs so hard that he almost chokes on his potato, but it dies off when Dream gives him an icy stare.

Or: Dream is having a hard time, and the hunter just want to adopt him like a stray puppy that bites you at every opportunity.

multi-chapter, ongoing.

a manhunt with plot-style fic! exquisitely written, visceral in the emotions it evokes. it’s the kind of fic that makes me feel all shaky with anticipation, the kind that i have a physical reaction to; you can’t put it down.

pain. all-consuming pain. this one feels bad, man

and as he fell (you walked away) by Teahound

Once upon a time, there were three hunters.

They were good at what they did. If you wanted something-- or better yet, someone-- found, discovered, or destroyed, they were the people you asked. They didn’t have much to their name, besides a formidable reputation, but they were a team, and that was enough for them.

Once upon a time, there was a king in the forest.

He wore a mask, but it didn’t matter. That deep in the forest, in a hidden fortress, buried behind leaves and monsters and broken stone, no one could see his face anyway. He had been there a very long time, and he was alone.

Being a king can be a very lonely thing. So one day, the king left the fortress.

A Minecraft manhunt AU, with a fantasy twist. Dream is a cryptid, and Hunters are idiots.

multi-chapter (11), complete.

tea’s fic!! a manhunt-with-plot fic, featuring a forest spirit dream and circumstantial hunters and friendships that feel both intensely real and desperately melancholy because they can’t last.

or can they?

The Real World by Cinammonzoa and Fire_Fly464

"Ten, paces fire!"

Time stopped.

Tommy’s entire body went numb. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but his body was determined to keep him silent. His vision went dark, and he could no longer feel his headphones over his ears. The mouse in his hand. The slight breeze of his ceiling fan. For a few seconds, he couldn’t feel anything.

His senses came back to him all at once. The first thing Tommy noticed was the weight in his right hand -- a bow. His nostrils stung with the lingering scent of gunpowder. In front of him was a masked figure. Their right arm was bent, their elbow by their face. In their left hand was a bow, aiming directly at--

~~~

Aka Dream and Tommy get transported into the SMP world and have no idea what the fuck is happening

multi-chapter (23), complete

you’ve probably seen this one if you haunt the video blogging rpf/minecraft tags of ao3 often! an irl!dream and tommy replace their smp counterparts type of beat, very upbeat in dynamic and fun to keep pace with, great read.

staying alive (though the city is dead) by Alice_Not_In_Wonderland

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't," Schlatt smirks, his words lilting, almost song-like. His eyes seem to glow brighter. "Tell me, Dream, when did you realize that you could talk and talk and talk and no one would ever believe you?"

---

or: if dream's damned to be a villain in every story he's in, then he's going to show them exactly how much of one he can be

one-shot, complete.

the gratuitous greek mythology references are truly everything and this fic is such a good dissection of dream and schlatt’s motivations and how their goals intersect, and dream’s likening to cassandra really hits different

Green & Gold by HognoseSnake

George’s legs ached.

His lungs felt tight and too small.

His breath was loud in his ears.

His pack bounced uncomfortably on his shoulders.

George, homeless and adrift, is an outlaw of the Mad King's reign. He'd spent the last two months being hunted across the wilderness at the fringe of society by a ruthless killer in a smiling mask and bright green coat. This, he understood.

What he didn't understand is why such a ruthless killer kept letting him go.

multi-chapter (8), complete. sequel ongoing.

a breathtaking pseudo-manhunt-with-plot fic, with george and dream running from a kingdom that wants them dead for perceived transgressions. this shit hurted, and the sequel hurts even worse ;-; snake please i beg

We’re Only Young series by ImperialKatwala

It's easy to forget amid the chaos and bloodshed how similar - and how young - Dream and Technoblade really are.

collection of both one-shots and ongoing multi-chapter fics.

((bangs on table)) please read this series it is dream and techno friendship fics that alternate between lighthearted and heartwrenchingly comforting and imperialkatwala’s characterisation of them and their respective groups of family and friends is so frickin’ good i read this series when i’m not having a good day and it never fails to make me crack a smile

kept promises and old ruins and names carved into stone by verecundiam

"Would you... would you want to stay here?" Bad wrings his hands, looking away. "Like, like actually stay? I know it's not, ah, not exactly comfortable, or all that homey, but I don't want you two to get hurt out there on your own, and I just... I think maybe you could stay? If you want?"

"That sounds nice," Sapnap says, because it does.

(Or: How four kids managed to build a family, against all odds.)

one-shot, complete.

muffinteers found family that makes me want to go to the smp writers and beg it to be made canon. unbelievably soft yet excellent at parsing out the younger counterparts of the four and creating backgrounds that feasibly form them into the people they grow up to be.

in the age of icons by BananasofThorns

“Yeah, keep digging,” Tommy crows.

The pickaxe hesitates on the downswing. The air shifts; Dream’s aura bursts into visibility, brilliant green and jagged. Ozone hums on Techno’s tongue and Bad stutters in the middle of his sentence. Up on the wall, silhouetted by the sun, Dream stands frozen and furious.

L'manberg messes with something it shouldn't. Techno watches the repercussions and tries not to laugh.

one-shot, complete.

i love deity aus (figures, i wrote one myself akjdfh), and this one hits. there’s something exquisitely delicate about how dream and the repercussions his godhood both on himself and on the people who are exposed to him in that moment of unbridled rage.

that's how we keep going (we make the best of things) by lieyuu

[ i can’t decide if this is heaven or hell. the walls keep closing in and we’re running out of space, but you’re pretty cute ]

“So, do you want to build a flower shop, a cottage, or a coffee shop?” Puffy asks, smiling like just Niki’s presence is enough to light up her world.

Niki looks at her, thinks, I want to bend nature to my will and weave tapestries in your name, says, “I think I might like the flower shop best.”

one-shot, complete.

a niki/puffy fic that crushed me in its hands in just six hundred words. the delicate love and wonder and beauty of this fic killed me softly and i welcomed it. it’s girls in love rendered by lieyuu’s masterful hand, what more could you want

i need it to be known that as i was typing up my thoughts midnight love by girl in red started playing from my playlist if that’s not a shining endorsement i don’t know what is

did i ruin the moment? by itisjosh

Ranboo drags himself through the snow, burn wounds going up and down his body. His suit is crumpled, half of it discarded as he crawls along the ground. His eyes are firmly pressed shut, and he refuses to open them, just in case he sees him, Dream, again. Ranboo sobs as the snow melts on his skin, the water scalding him as it trickles down his arms and chest.

one-shot, complete.

it’s character death, i do need to put it out there because it felt like i was punched in the stomach at the end even though i knew. josh knows exactly how to drag his readers kicking and screaming into angst hell, as always - a ranboo is rescued by phil fic wherein ranboo ends up convincing himself that the only reason for his presence in the nearly-empty anarchist commune is because phil sees him as a placeholder for his sons ;-; pain

Frame The Halves, And Call Them Brothers by MusicallyActive

"Let's go!" Quackity roared. "Let's fucking go!"

The anvil dropped, and Techno reached for his totem of undying. This was going to hurt like a bitch.

Phil screamed something, and instantly a crushing force struck Technoblade's skull. It rattled him to the core, doused his vision in red, and then all he knew was black.

He gasped awake moments later to the sound of his communicator pinging softly at his bedside table, and when Technoblade opened his eyes, New L'manburg was nowhere in sight.

one-shot, complete.

a techno timeloop fic that shows off the unintentional cruelty of the children who run l’manberg and techno’s own inability to allow the people he tries so hard not to love to come to harm. techno’s rendered in painstaking detail; this one was cathartic in the best way.

on i go (move to move) by Aenqa

If you ask someone whether they’ve ever experienced real, severe physical pain, you’ll learn a lot from their response.

Techno knows what it means to be in pain. He’s accepted it as a necessary consequence of keeping his family safe. But when the pain he's experiencing starts to become too much to bear alone, it takes his family to show him what it might mean to feel better.

one-shot, complete.

chronic pain fic featuring sbi!! it’s really good - aenqa wrote chronic pain well, and incorporated respawn mechanics into it well, and the dynamic between sbi is impeccable.

Yellow and Blue and- by nic_takes_Ls (nic_L)

It’s another gorgeous day in New L’Manberg. Tubbo’s stilted streets of deep toned spruce and honey-touched oaks are warm under his feet from the sun, and a sign and a small banner proclaim the country’s name in front of his face. Wilbur is so happy to let the ‘L’ roll of his tongue as he says it, ‘Manberg’ was harsh and too guttural, but the two extra syllables make it something that could fit on a melody, a four-note beat he could set the pace of his unbeating heart to.

The citizens of New L’Manberg track him with cautious eyes at first, until Tubbo changes his eyes to slightly sad ones, listening along to Wilbur’s rambles, warming up to the truly soot-grey sight of his face and sunshine yellow of his ever-present sweater. The rest of the population soon follow, laughing at Wilbur’s strange innocence and telling him what he’s done with only a little bit of spite in a pitying mask and fixing their mouths in a line when he suddenly forgets what he’s doing or stares into space or laughs at nothing.

But all the people who get sad when Wilbur starts laughing after shock-still silence are dumb.

Because Wilbur’s not laughing at nothing.

one-shot, complete.

a ghostbur fic from quite early on! it includes references to wilbur and schlatt’s older videos/smp experiences and has a super interesting take on the nature of wilbur’s amnesia i enjoyed this fic a lot ^^

east of eden series by subwaywalls

Philza protects his home.

(An angel with a singing blade of fire guards the gates to paradise.)

two one-shots, one ongoing multi-chapter fic.

READ IT READ IT READ IT. the eoe series is exquisite in both content and presentation, centering around sbi and the powers they all respectively have but also bringing in people like grian and dream, and subwaywalls is a master of packaging her words ever so delicately to create an experience that is ethereal.

#long post #fic recs #chrys rambles #asks

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

Text

mouth full of white lies {Machine Gun Kelly} 4

4. i wanna know what’s your quietest feeling

Summary: So you’ve met his friends, and now his daughter, who’s the only other person who knows that this whole thing is a setup. But all she wants is to make sure that you’re not gonna break her dad’s heart; it shouldn’t be too hard to convince her that your intentions are good.

the brainstrust: @sataninsatin @silvertonguedserpent @juliarose21 @kellysimagines @estxxbritt @machine-gun-casie @harringtonstudios @misscharlottelee @narcvissa @hiworlditishumbleme @angelwarner28 @nevilles-insinuations @rumoured-whispers @mgkobsessed @edwardtriggerhandzz @suckerforbarnes @wastelcve @bakerkells @local-troubled-writer @freddiessmallnipples @oopsiedoopsie23 @mayaslifeinabox @mrs-machinegun-norris @hxbbit

----

Colson writes. A lot. You’d noticed it here and there being close to home, being close his studio, he’s buzzing with new ideas. There’s a ratty notebook that he keeps in the front pocket of his suitcase, held together by fibers and hope, that seems to be worth it’s weight in gold to him, full of lyrics and ideas that he’s been hoarding for as long as he’s been writing. About ten percent of the book has actually come to fruition, but that’s not what’s important about it, it’s that it’s positively brimming with potential as much as it is memories.

It’s been less than a year since his last album, and he’s made a few songs here and there, but now he writes, when inspiration strikes him, after work, or between takes. He’s in talks with Motley themselves, apparently, working on a part for one of their songs, rereleasing with the release of the film. For now, he writes, and he hums, and tests out lyrics under his breath.

“That sounds good,” it’s Sunday morning; he’s up earlier than you, which isn’t necessarily an unusual occurrence. He’s wearing sweatpants, hair curling a little at the ends where he’s letting it air dry, sitting up beside you on the bed. He’s got his notebook balanced on the one knee he’s got drawn up to him, while the other leg is kicked out in front of him, and he’s humming something while scrolling through his phone. He’s muttering something, lyrics you’re pretty sure, while something plays from his phone.

He seems a little surprised, like he’s coming out of a trance that the music had put him in, and smiles with an honest sincerity.

You yawn, and wiggle a little beneath the covers to properly face him, face half-smushed into the pillow. For a beat he looks at you like he wants to do something, like he wants to reach out and touch your cheek, trace his thumb across your lip -

Wishful thinking. Probably.

“Rook’s been working on some stuff; he sent this through last night,” and he tapped away at his phone for a moment, replaying the track on his phone. It’s an instrumental, beat-heavy and the bones for a solid bop. You nod along to it, and he starts rapping under his breath again.

“I think it could be something good,” he sounds quietly hopeful; he doesn’t sound like that often.

“Of course it’ll be good,” you say around a yawn, and this time he does reach out.

“Go back to sleep,” he pinches gently at your cheek, and a warm rush of affection floods through you. Without thinking, you turn to press a quick kiss to his palm, a moment of gentle familiarity, and turn away, to go back to sleep, without thinking to watch for his reaction. You hear a faint, almost disbelieving huff of laughter, before the music starts back up again.

It’s not long before you’re ingratiated with his friends, who’ve all taken you and Colson in stride. Mostly it’s drinking and smoking and making music and playing video games, so even your initial anxiety is quick to fade.

That first morning, Wednesday, cool but sunny, it’s easy; Rook’s the only one awake when you and Colson arrive. He’s sitting at the kitchen island, perched on a stool with a pen stuck in his mouth, and a laptop and drum pad machine sitting on the counter, and when you walk in, he gives you a long, evaluative stare, a joint in between his fingers, idle.

“Hey man, this is Ducky,” Colson doesn’t seem to notice how you’ve frozen awkwardly in the doorway, moving past you to start searching the cupboards for food; Rook nods to him, before looking back at him, “Ducky, this is my man Rook,” and at that, he holds out his hand for the joint, and Rook passes it over, before looking back at you. You give a little, uncomfortable wave.

“Ducky?” He asks, curious rather than hostile, and you let yourself breathe, stepping into the room.

“Or Duck,” you explain, heading to the counter where Colson’s now wrestling with a packet of Doritos, “or [Y/N].” And you put your bag down, taking the seat beside Rook as Colson passes the joint back to him to get a better handle on the bag.

“Tight,” Rook says after a moment, apparently finding something in you that he approves of, because he follows it up by turning the laptop towards you, asking if you were into music. Of course you tell him you are - who isn’t? - but you don’t have a lot of experience in the production side of things.

“I mean,” you concede briefly, “about two years ago there was a trend going around on YouTube where you make a diss track about yourself -” Colson’s entire face lit up.

“You wrote a diss track about yourself? Don’t you do like cutesy vlogs and shit?” He asks, and it’s not meant to sound as unkind as it’s worded, though you still roll your eyes.

“It pays to be on trend,” you shrug, still a little embarrassed at the memory, “but it was fun.”

Colson is looks actually impressed, while Rook is still chewing on the end of his pen, typing away frantically. After a beat, Colson turns to him -

“Her channel name is DuckDuckBooth -”

“I’ve already found the video,” Rook says with a smile, and you have to hide your face in your hands as they watch with equal parts fondness, and a little bit of second hand embarrassment.

Colson posts to his Instagram story a video of Rook jamming out to your self-diss track, before the camera swings around to see you flipping them both off with a fond smile. Your video is the only sound that can be heard for the full duration of the ten second video -

“Too scared of you’re face on the big, big screen, you think YouTube’s gonna be more stable / even though you use your bro for views every chance that you’re able. / With all of the time that you spend around sets, they all think you’re a professional stalker / and you spill you’re guts when you’re NDA free; you’ve made a career as Hollywood’s biggest talker. / [As if! Who asked for the Perez Hilton of the production crew?!]”

He tags both you and Rook, and captioned the video with a question: Should we remix Ducky’s self-diss track from 2016? With two options for fans to choose: Yes. or Definitely.

But Rook’s not who your worried about. None of Colson’s friends really worry you.

Casie arrives a week and a half after you’ve all moved locations, to see her dad, to meet you, and to sit in on production for about a week.

When you finally meet her, her cocked hip and crossed arms reminds you of Colson; she’s four and a bit feet of skepticism and an unmatched, effortlessly cool energy, and you realise too late that you’re kind of intimidated by an elementary schooler.

“I’ve seen your videos,” is the first thing she says to you, and you find yourself smiling, bewildered.

“Cas -” Colson’s voice holds a note of warning where he’s currently getting his tattoos covered. He’s standing with his arms out, looking straight ahead while Corey, the key makeup artist, and his team, airbrush and colour correct like their lives depend on it.

“I’m making sure she’s taking care of you,” Casie, unwavering in both her conviction and her loyalty, shifts her weight to her other foot. “The drum video was cute.” And you’re not quite sure if it’s a compliment, judging by the cool tone of her voice, but she’s wearing a slight smile that you’ve seen on Colson far too many times to not recognize it. This feels like the first of many tests.

She’s adamant that she’s not someone to be bought, though the thought had barely crossed your mind. When she nods approvingly at your dismissal of the suggestion, you can’t help but frown.

“How many girls have tried to get on her good side by buying her stuff?” You ask Colson quietly, out of Casie’s earshot later that night. For a moment, he looks as close to guilty as you’ve ever seen him.

“Not a lot, like one or two maybe; not a lot of girls meet her,” he admitted, “but the ones that try and buy her gifts and shit, they always turned out to be the worst ones,” and perhaps the guilt intensifies a little more, “she’s a good kid; always saw that before I could.”

“She’s a good kid,” you repeated, softer this time, with a faint smile, and when Colson comes back to reality, he gives your shoulder a squeeze.

She’s on set a lot for the days that she’s staying with you all, and when she sees you at work, she appears to warm to you; you’re not sure when you forgot that she was just a child trying to protect her father, but you’re reminded when you see the starry-eyed look she’s giving the makeup artists.

“Hey Corey,” you ask, smiling a little, and the makeup artist who had been in the middle of his lunch looks up from his phone with wide, alert eyes, “could one of your people give Casie here a little bit of 80s glam?” You ask sweetly, and his expression tuns fond as he nods. Casie turns wide-eyed and a little abashed at request, and murmurs that she doesn’t want to be any trouble. Both Corey and yourself wave away her concerns, and Amy, one of the makeup assistants, is more than happy to give the young girl a bit of glitter and gloss to the excited young girl.

She’s got glitter on her eyelids, and blush and highlighter adorning her cheeks, and a shiny, clear lip gloss making her smile that little bit brighter by the time the makeup woman is done with her, and Casie is practically glowing.

“How in the hell,” Colson starts with a grin when she goes to him to show off, “did I end up with the most stylish kid in the world? Cas, you look like a model.” Pride is radiating off of him in waves, and he pulls out his phone, “babe, get a picture, she looks so fuckin’ cool,” he enthuses, and if your heart skips a beat as his casual use of a pet-name, you’re enough of a professional not to let it show. Casie is calling him embarrassing, but is still beaming, and with him in full costume and her all made up, the picture you take - he’s standing behind her with his hands on her shoulders, and she’s got her arms crossed, both of them looking serious and menacing at the camera - you think they might be the coolest people you’ve ever met. Certainly one of the most photogenic father/daughter duos you’ve ever come across.

“Do not make it your phone background,” Casie presses her embarrassed smile into his shoulder where they’re reviewing the photo back in his trailer.

“But I’m not allowed to post it, and I wanna admire it every day - look at you!” He’s pointedly zooming in on her stony expression in the photo.

“[Y/N], tell him he’s being ridiculous,” Casie implored you, and you threw your hands up in surrender.

“I’m not allowed to say what is and isn’t a ridiculous phone background,” you say automatically, which piques both of their interests, and you immediately regret saying anything.

“Babe,” Colson says, prompting you, and you feel yourself growing flustered, both because you’re going to have to admit that your background is a photo of you two, and that he’s called you that twice in about half an hour. Casie’s amused now, smiling, her arms crossed as she raises her eyebrows at you expectantly. Taking a deep breath, you unlock your phone.

“I’m just trying to be a good girlfriend,” you say, avoiding their gazes as you show them your home screen, and your background; the paparazzi photo of you and Colson beneath the boardwalk.

“Is that how you organise your apps?” Is what Casie has to say, which has Colson snorting with laughter, though when you finally look at him, you see him wearing a weirdly pleased little smile.

“Ducky, that’s weird and adorable -”

“It’s not weird!” You protest, snatching back your phone, flustered, but Casie just rolls her eyes, pulling out her own phone.

“Come here, both of you,” she instructs, sounding terribly put upon by the both of you. You both crowd around her, with only slight confusion. “Look convincing.” She holds up her phone, and you both frown a little.

“What?”

“Look convincing,” she insists again, gesturing between the two of you, and finally coming to understand her meaning, Colson gives her an endeared, almost proud look, and you in turn are looking fondly at him. Neither of you have noticed that she’s already taken the selfie. After a beat, she lowers the phone and starts looking at the few photos she’d taken, and both you and Colson seem a little surprised at her speed. “Dad, I’ll send it to you, you send it to her; you can have a photo of both of us looking cool, and a photo of your ‘girlfriend’,” she explains with implicit air quotes, “and [Y/N], you don’t have to have a creepy pap’s picture as your background.” She taps away for a moment before swiftly sending the best photo to Colson, “plus you’ll match.”

“You’re a little genius,” you tell her once Colson’s sent you the photo. Casie beams at you.

“I know.”

And the way you’re smiling in the photo is more than convincing.

[ID: A series of three tweets from @machinegunkelly:

1: Retweeted with the caption ‘🥰🥰’, originally posted by @duckduckbooth with no caption: Two pictures of Rosa Diaz from Brooklyn 99 holding a golden retriever puppy with an edited caption reading ‘I’ve only known CASIE BAKER for a day and a half but if anything happened to HER I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.’

2: Tweeted: when me n my girls (my daughter and @duckduckbooth) hang out i realize i’m somehow the least fashionable in the group. when did that happen wtf 😳😳

3. Tweeted: maybe you'll skip to the end and pass all the irrational decisions, patch up all the passion that was missin'. i think that's enough. i'm feelin' lovesick.

End ID.]

Maybe it’s that she likes you, maybe she’s just trying to keep an eye on you to make sure you’ve got her dad’s best intentions at heart, but Casie takes it upon herself to almost shadow you while on set, at least when she’s not with her dad.

“What’s your next video going to be?” She asks one afternoon when you’re both waiting for Colson in his trailer as he gets his makeup removed for the day. She’s watching a video on her phone and you’re reading emails on yours, and you look up, interested. After a moment, she pauses her video, looking up, looking back at you, “I like your ‘day in the life’ ones.”

“I didn’t realise you liked my videos,” you said with faint amusement, and she gives a small smile.

“I’ve been binging them,” she admits, and shuffles a little, sitting up further where she’s reclining on the uncomfortable little sofa, “your editing is really nice; I liked your Euro-Disney video, it was really pretty.”

“Thanks,” you find yourself a little humbled at her compliment, and find yourself musing that you’d like to get back to that style of video, “hey,” you find yourself coming up with an idea, something Colson had said during your first actual date, and with Casie herself now here, it was the perfect opportunity, “do you wanna be in a video?”

“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! I’ve been feeling rather nostalgic for some of my older content, and was inspired by none other than Miss Casie Baker, so what better day than this beautiful Friday afternoon, to take you all along with Casie, Kells, and I as we head to a boardwalk fair.”

It’s a short drive to the boardwalk, and once you’re there, it’s almost unbearably cheesy. Rides, candy, you and Colson in competition trying to win a prize for Casie at one of the cheap game booths.

You’re filming on and off the whole time, getting aesthetic shots, your heart growing warmer with each genuine smile you manage to catch on camera. You take endless candid photos of Colson and Casie, and even though you know you can’t be out too late because you and Colson are due on set at eight, you make the most of the time you have.

After an hour and a half, you stop at the food vendor, craving hot chips, and Colson orders, while Casie takes your hand, the two of you hanging back.

"Can we go on the Ferris Wheel?"

"Just a minute kiddo, food's almost ready," Colson tells her over his shoulder, but she tugs at your hand, making her meaning more clear.

"You can catch up, we can go around twice; I wanna talk to [Y/N]," she tells him plainly, and you give her a smile, already acquiescing to her suggestion. Colson makes a noise of gentle protest, but he sees her hand in yours, and the reassuring look you've leveled at him.

"Take care of my girl," he tells you with a faux seriousness, and Casie gives a small grin at that.

"I'll protect her with my life," you promise, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"You better," he grinned, tone fond and a little teasing, before assuring that he'd meet you both up there, and you're left wondering what about you screamed 'let's have a serious conversation on a Ferris Wheel' because if it happens again, it goes from a coincidence to a pattern. Casie drops your hand and trots easily through the crowd to the Wheel that had cast the rest of the fair in shadow as the sun set behind it. The ride operator gives you a toothy smile as she secures the door behind the two of you, and Casie links her fingers, resting her elbows on her knees, and her chin on her hands, evaluating you with an inscrutable look. She waits until the basket is about a quarter of the way around before saying anything; for your part, you’re silent, she’s the one who wanted to speak after all.

“Dad doesn’t do fake,” she says finally, sitting back, and lets you wonder in silence for a few moments, what that even means, “I know he did, I’m not blind or deaf, people… people talk to me. A lot. About things my dad’s done.” This piece of information has your expression souring - she’s just a kid - but she doesn’t seem bothered by it, she just seems… almost confused.

“I’m not going to -”

“I know.” She cuts you off before you can even voice what reassurance you could manage, “I’ve gathered that; you’re good. Better than probably any other girl who’s gotten with him for clout.”

“I’m not -” You try to protest and she does look a little apologetic, but after a moment, you stop yourself, and let her continue, trying to understand where she was coming from.

“I know why he likes you, I get it, you -” she averts her gaze for a moment, suddenly a little embarrassed, “you’re actually really cool,” she admits, and your heart softens, but you keep quiet, and let her build back up to her bravado, “but back when his manager had him with like, models and actresses and things, they were all - I mean sometimes they were nice, but they always thought they were better than him, or they just treated him like dirt when people weren’t around, so now, dad doesn’t do fake.” It’s said definitively. You’re at the top of the Ferris Wheel now, stopped for a few moments, and she looks out at the rest of the fair, and then down to the base of the ride, letting herself smile when she spots Colson at the bottom, giving him a wave.

Somehow, sitting in this basket in the sky, it feels like a mafia movie, like this little girl is implying she’ll break your kneecaps if you hurt her father. Or she’s implying something that your heart dare not read into, lest you get your hopes up.

“Dad doesn’t break his rules for just anyone,” Casie finally sits back up, and there’s a new, kinder quality about her voice, before it turns young, turns plaintive, and you’re reminded that she’s just a child looking out for her dad, her hero, “please don’t make him regret it. He’s a good person, I know what people say but he’s -”

“Casie, I care about him. A lot.” You tell her honestly, gently, and she blinks wide and surprised for a few moments, before her expression turns to almost weirdly pleased, maybe even a little smug.

“Good.” She says with conviction, before looking out at the horizon, “this would be a nice shot.”

“It’d be nicer with your dad,” you hear yourself saying, and Casie huffs out a laugh that sounds so much like her father, agreeing quietly. When your basket stops at the bottom of the wheel, Colson flashes his ride wristband to the kid operating it, and he slides into the seat beside you. Casie’s still smiling as she takes a chip from where he offered them.

“Nice chat?” He asks, and offers you the chips too.

“I like her,” Casie announces, and you grin to yourself, “dad, I love you, but you’d better treat Duck right; we’re friends now.” Which sets Colson off laughing, and you turn on your camera.

“You were meant to be on my side,” he laughs, and Casie shrugs.

“I am, I’m on both your sides.”

#mgk #mgk x reader #mgk imagine #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #the dirt #the dirt cast #the dirt cast imagine #the angry lizard writes

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bladesoflightandshadow · 5 years

Text

indefinitely [lucas/mc]

note: hi! hello! i wrote another thing! finally! this one was actually supposed to be part of a series of ficlets based on a prompt list which i abandoned, but i think it holds its own well enough to post. i know the ‘character has bad dreams and has their partner comfort them’ trope is way overdone when it comes to the it lives series but like.....i love these two too much not to try

pairing: lucas x mc (everett walker)

word count: 1,947

warnings: discussions of trauma & anxiety, though nothing you haven’t already seen if you’ve read ilitw.

tagged: @teja-desai

summary: a late night talk with lucas has everett re-evaluating his feelings.

. . . . .

Everett learned quickly at the start of his and Lucas’s relationship that they’re both restless sleepers.

For Lucas, it’s always been like this—worrying about what he has to do in the day ahead or the day after tomorrow or what he did the day before and what went wrong and what could go wrong all keep him up—so sometimes he doesn’t bother with sleep at all, and it’s only made worse by the events of homecoming their senior year.

For Everett, it started in the weeks leading up to the homecoming incident. Despite numerous sleeping aids and therapy and God knows what else, sleep often feels like a trap he needs to outsmart, with memories of that night and of what Noah did and what he did always just in his periphery, waiting for the right time to strike.

Not to say that what happened didn’t affect their group of friends too, if seeing another one of them have a breakdown about it every week after the incident was any indication. But Everett never could shake the roiling guilt of feeling responsible for what happened to them—to his friends, to Jane, to Noah.

And it’s these thoughts that plague him while he’s lying awake in bed tonight, staring up at the ceiling.

When it becomes hard to breathe, he kicks his sheets away and paces the room, hugging himself as a sudden chill crawls up his spine. Everett contemplates going for a walk to clear his mind, but one look at the woods outside and just the thought of being anywhere near them makes him physically sick. He grabs his phone from his nightstand and sees that it’s 3 A.M. Knowing Lucas, he’s probably awake at this time too. Everett considers texting him to see if he’s awake, but his thumbs hover over the keyboard, worried that if Lucas is asleep, the sound might wake him up.

Before he can decide, though, a text appears on his phone screen, the sound startling him into dropping his phone. When he picks it up—unbroken, thank God, he can’t afford to ask for a new one—he sees that it’s from Lucas, seemingly having just read his mind.

Can’t sleep. Thinking about you.

He feels himself smile, almost involuntarily, as he types out a reply. When are you not thinking about me?

Ha. Then, after a beat: Rarely, to be fair.

Everett steps towards his bed and falls back onto it. I am a pretty good distraction, aren’t I?

Only the best. Everett sighs, momentarily forgetting why he was unable to sleep in the first place.

Lucas sends him another text. Can I call you? I miss your voice.

You spoke to me in person earlier today.

And what about it?

He closes the messaging app and finds Lucas’s number in his recent call history, the name in his contacts plastered with heart emotes. Lucas picks up almost immediately.

“Hey,” Everett says, quietly so as to not rouse his parents in the next room.

“Hey,” Lucas responds. “Sorry if I’m bothering you.”

Everett lifts his arm to cover his face, sighing slightly. “Nah, I was already awake. I was thinking of calling you too.”

Lucas hums in response. There’s a near-imperceptible edge to his voice, and he’s clearly agitated—more than usual, anyway. Everett asks him what’s wrong.

“Nothing?” A pause, in which Everett hopes to communicate the sentiment of, I know you too well. Don’t lie to me. “…Yeah, okay. Something’s wrong. It’s… it’s stupid.”

“Everything about our lives these past few months has been stupid,” Everett says, shifting around on the bed so that he’s under his duvet again. “Nothing you say can surprise me.”

Lucas lets out a half-hearted chuckle. “I suppose not.” He hesitates, then sighs. “It’s just… It’s the first time I’ve been home alone in a while. My dad’s away on some business trip and my mom is staying with family for the night, so I’m the only person in the house, which makes overthinking every sound I hear or every shadow I see a lot easier.” He sighs again. “It’s…childish, I know.”

“No, it’s not. Trust me. I… I get it.” Everett bites his lip, unsure of how else to reassure him when he’s not feeling any braver himself.

At his lack of response, Lucas asks, “What about you? Why are you awake?”

A pause. Everett closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. “Oh, you know, the usual. Just trying to stave away the feeling of overwhelming guilt and fear over letting my childhood friends get hurt at the hands of a powerful supernatural being, two of which are now dead, while said supernatural being is probably still out there somewhere.”

There’s a silence that stretches on a beat too long. Everett starts chewing on his lower lip. “Sorry. That was too much.”

“No,” Lucas tells him. “No, you’re allowed to express how you’re feeling, even if it is through really morbid jokes.”

“Who says I was joking?”

He falls quiet again, and Everett’s worried he went too far this time, until he speaks again. “It’s not your fault, you know.”

Everett breathes in, slowly, shakily. “I know,” he whispers. “I know. Everyone keeps telling me. I know. But I also can’t fucking convince myself to believe it. So I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”

“Hey.” There’s rustling on Lucas’s end. It sounds like he’s getting out of bed, or sitting up. “Do you want us to talk about something else?”

“Yes, please.” Everett thinks for a moment, rattling his brain for conversation topics. “Where’s your dog?”

“Tolkien?” More rustling on the other line as Lucas presumably moves to look for the terrier. “He’s sleeping on the floor next to me.”

“So you’re not really home alone after all.”

“I suppose. But Tolkien’s an old man. I don’t think he can do much to protect me.”

“I still can’t believe your parents let you name him that.”

He lets out a snort. “In all fairness, I was nine.”

Everett takes reprieve in the conversation shift, letting himself retreat into their usual banter. “You must’ve thought you were such a smartass, naming him after a writer that was way above everyone else’s reading level at the time.”

“You joke, but that was probably my exact thought process,” Lucas says, a smile in his voice. “Also, this is rich coming from the guy who named his cat Cattywampus.”

“Wampus is a business professional and she does not take well to your mockery.” Lucas laughs, the sound soft but genuine, and Everett allows himself to ease into the warmth of it.

Slowly, the fear that had kept them both awake fades into an afterthought, as they let the conversation carry them through to the early hours of the morning. When Everett wakes up, he’s relieved to find that one of them had, wittingly or not, ended the call before they fell asleep. His phone reads 11:36 A.M., and his heart jumps to his throat for a moment before he realises it’s a Saturday.

Almost without thinking, he taps Lucas’s name on his phone to call him again.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he answers, almost annoyingly chipper. Even when he’s barely gotten any sleep, Lucas can never bring himself to wake up later than 9 A.M., something Everett’s had to learn the hard way.

“Mornin’,” Everett murmurs through a yawn. “God, how are you such a morning person?”

He can hear the clattering of pots and pans from Lucas’s end. “Hmm, I guess it’s hard not to be one when I get to hear your voice first thing in the morning,” he says.

Everett roll his eyes, but even the tiredness can’t fend off his smile. “You didn’t even know I was gonna call you.”

“Wishful thinking?” More clattering. “I’m making breakfast. Or brunch, I guess. Do you want to come over?”

Groaning, Everett pulls the covers over his head to block the sunlight streaming directly onto his face. “Give me, like, an hour to feel alive again and then I’ll be there.”

“Alright. Let me know when you’re near.”

“I will. I love you.”

It goes quiet on Lucas’s line. Everett half expects him to have hung up, but one glance at his phone tells him he’s still there. There’s a long, long pause as Lucas takes in what he just said, and as Everett wakes up enough to realise what he just said.

“Oh,” he stutters. “Oh—shit, I’m sorry, that was…I know you said you wanted to take things slow, and I—agh, I’m sorry, Lucas—”

“Stop,” Lucas says, and his tone is gentle, but Everett’s heart still freezes in place. “Did you mean it?”

It takes him a few moments to collect his thoughts. Even in his morning bleariness, Everett knows the answer with clarity. Who else does he know that makes him feel this safe—this calm? Who else would Everett, without even thinking, want to call first thing in the morning, when he knows he sounds like absolute hell? Who else does he trust this much?

He breathes in, letting the feeling wash over him, and he wills his heart to calm down just long enough for him to speak.

“Yeah,” Everett exhales, and something like relief floods out of him. “Yeah. I did mean it.”

In all honesty, part of him had known for a while, yet there was always something, some nagging feeling putting him off from admitting it. They’d talked before about how they wanted to take things slow after everything that happened—to handle this relationship with the care it deserved, at least until they got to a point where things weren’t so fraught.

Yet, despite the anxiety that had kept him tossing and turning last night, Everett feels calmer than he’s been in weeks. Like Lucas’s mere presence through the phone were enough of a remedy for his nerves. His pulse is still hammering, but there’s no fear.

“Good. Because I love you too,” Lucas says, and he sounds… like he’s in awe of the fact. “I’ve known for a while. I just… I didn’t want to say it too soon, especially after I told you I wanted to take things slow…”

Everett is suddenly wide awake, unable to shake the giddy smile from his face. They both take a few moments to just bask in the revelation, the quiet between them profound and full of warmth. Love. They love each other. No holding back.

“You jerk,” Everett says suddenly. “You were waiting for me to say it first so you wouldn’t feel weird about it.”

On the other end, Lucas laughs, brightly, a sound Everett doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of. “And what are you going to do about it?”

“Uhh, hold it over your head for the rest of our lives?” He’s smiling so much his face aches. “Face it, Thomas, you weren’t man enough to say it first.”

“Pfft, you only said it on accident.”

“I at least demand a consolation prize!”

There’s movement on Lucas’s end, the scraping of a chair as he sits down. “Fine. Whatever you want, name it.”

Everett bites the inside of his cheek, lifting his free hand up to cover his face like it might stop the unadulterated joy from spilling out. His head is spinning. Is this what love is?

“Just keep saying it. That you love me.”

“That’s it?” There’s a smile in Lucas’s voice, too, like he can’t stop himself either. “Just keep telling you I love you, indefinitely?”

“Indefinitely. Yeah.” Everett laughs. “For as long as you can.”

And he does.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfic #it lives in the woods #lucas thomas #lucas thomas x mc #lucas x mc #i never know what to tag these how do u get attention for ur writing in this godforsaken fandom #anyway yeah it's 5am but i'm just gonna yeet this out there before i overthink myself out of existence bye !#my writing #long post #mc: everett walker #if i squint i think i can say im proud of this one

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junghelioseok · 5 years

Note

Not sure if ur taking req.This came to me as I read catharsis, I loved their friendship.Ur hired as a choreographer for the group, & ur in Korea on a work visa.JK just gets you like no one else does. You are bff, then it turns romantic.U keep ur relationship secret, & when U travel with the group he always sneaks to ur hotel room. He wants to take the relationship public, but u know the company will fire you, & you need your work visa to stay in Korea (to stay with JK). happy ending please. 😊

so i don’t take requests, sorry! however i have also been thinking about this idea nonstop since i got it so! i’m gonna not ignore it for once and lay out exactly what i would do if i did write it (which i refuse to actually do bc more jk ideas is the absolute last thing i need, lolol).

that being said, if any of my writer friends want to take this on, please do so!!! and tag me in the finished fic bc i would read the hell out of this shit. i fucking love this idea and i need it to come to fruition one way or another. (but like, obviously you should take it in whatever direction you see fit. please don’t feel the need to follow my outline, lmao.)

anyway, without further ado, here is my abbreviated version of this, ft. the frankly absurd, stream-of-consciousness way i plan every fic i write, ahaha.

let’s get it!!!

you weren’t ready

you weren’t ready when the email from bighit came, asking for your help choreographing the dances for love yourself: answer

(you thought it was a joke, tbh)

you weren’t ready to get a korean work visa on such short notice

and you definitely weren’t ready to actually live and work in a different country

two years of college-level korean and a month’s worth of nightly cram classes couldn’t have prepared you for life in seoul

and no amount of researching bts - whether that was binging music videos or going over every dance practice vid or repeatedly listening to the albums - could have prepared you for your first meeting with the boys

tbh you kinda thought they’d be jerks, being so wildly popular and whatnot

but you couldn’t have been more wrong

one month into your time at bighit, and you finally understand the undying adoration army has for the boys

they’re just seven big soft nerds in stupidly handsome bodies

you’ve been subjected to hundreds of dad jokes, courtesy of seokjin, and plenty of clingy hugs from jimin

you’ve grown to love hobi’s screaming laughter and yoongi’s quiet grumpiness

but no matter how well you get along with all of the boys, nothing compares to your budding friendship with jeon jungkook

admittedly it’d taken a while for him to get comfortable enough to speak to you directly, especially when namjoon isn’t around to act as a translator

and likewise, it took a while for you to become accustomed to speaking korean every day

but once you both get past the language barrier, it’s like you’ve known each other your entire lives

you bond over your mutual love of dancing, of music and flow and rhythm

and watching him dance is a dream

every move is the perfect mix of grace and power, and he’s a joy to teach choreo to

hardworking and perseverant and more than a little bit of a perfectionist

but so are you, and that just means that you spend plenty of late nights in the studio together

working through the bits of choreography that just aren’t clicking yet

prepping for the upcoming ly tour

helping him with the choreography for euphoria

you were shocked when he approached you about his solo stage instead of sungdeuk, but you can’t say you weren’t pleased that he trusts you

and the first time you heard him open his mouth and sing euphoria in person, you were blown away

after that, you spend even more time together in the studio, long after the other boys and sungdeuk have left

late night after late night, dancing and laughing and ordering takeout at 1am when you’re both starving and need a break

one night you’re both hanging out in golden closet, snacking on ice cream and fried food you know you’ll regret later, listening to the setlist and talking big picture stuff for the ly tour

and jungkook suddenly pauses the music and pulls up a new, different audio file

“um, i’ve been working on something and i was wondering if you wanted to listen to it?”

surprise, it’s his mixtape

it’s a work in progress - just a short collection of songs and a few random snippets that he admits he’s been working on for almost a year now

but every single one is so heart-wrenchingly lovely and emotional

your eyes may or may not well up a little during the last song - a soft, sentimental ballad that has you longing for something you didn’t know was missing in your life

“jungkook… this is beautiful”

“… i wrote it for you”

“…”

what are you gonna do, not kiss him?

lmao unlikely!

so you kiss him. a lot.

and then you do a lot more than that

you end up straddling him in his chair, your knees on either side of his thighs as his hands curl around your waist and find their way under the hem of your shirt

it’s sweaty and hurried and he tastes like the strawberry ice cream that he was just eating but it’s perfect nonetheless

afterward you are both in a happy haze, your head leaning on his shoulder as he strokes your back fondly

but then reality comes crashing back down

“jungkook, oh my god, we can’t do this!”

“but noona”

“but nothing! i’m only here temporarily, and if word gets out that we’re dating i’ll be fired!”

it’s so hard to tear your gaze from those pretty doe eyes when they’re staring up at you so beseechingly, but somehow you find the strength to wrench away from him and out of golden closet

you can still hear him calling for you as you run away, but you don’t turn back and he doesn’t chase you

needless to say, things are a little awkward from that point forward

you still see him every day at rehearsals

but you stop having one-on-one sessions with him late at night and tell yourself that it’s for the best

the other boys aren’t dumb; they notice that something is amiss straight away

but they don’t press too hard and you’re grateful for that

just days later, the international part of the ly tour starts and you are all jetting off to north america

by that point, it’s been almost a week and a half since you’ve spoken more than two sentences to jungkook

and you have no intention of changing that anytime soon

you can feel his eyes boring into you on the plane and in the car on the way to the hotel

but you escape to your hotel room and don’t see him again until dress rehearsal later that night

they’re running through the setlist, and you can’t help but admire how he looks in casual clothes

no one else could pull off a matching gray puma tracksuit, tbh

but he can, and he’s got the sleeves of his gray sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows to expose the rolex on his wrist

and his sweatpants are juuuust tight enough to show off the definition of his thighs

but! you’re a professional, and you can’t be looking at him with anything more than a critical eye so that’s what you do

even when he keeps glancing your way during euphoria

and stares right into your eyes as he nails the high note

afterward, you go onstage to give the boys your notes

you have a lot to say to hobi about just dance, and you can just feel jungkook’s hot gaze lingering on you the entire time

and then…

(thanks a lot for this shit, @puellaigmotum istg i have fucking nightmares about this bit of dialogue and it’s 10000% your fault)

… he corners you backstage

“noona, why are you paying so much attention to hobi-hyung… when i’m right here and ready to be on my knees for you”

he’s so close you can’t even fucking breathe by this point, his lips right at your ear and ruffling your hair with every word he speaks

when he begins kissing a trail along your jawline you finally regain control of your lungs

and all you can manage is a shaky “jungkook, not here”

and you press the second copy of your hotel key into his hand

he comes over that night, of course

(and just like he promised, he does end up on his knees)

(head nestled between your thighs, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder to keep you spread open for him)

but a n y w a y

when you wake up in the morning, jarred awake by your alarm at far too early an hour, he is curled around you with one arm draped over your waist

he’s bleary and a little dazed and has the cutest bedhead you’ve ever seen

but when he sees you still in bed with him, his entire face splits into the brightest bunny smile

he pulls you in for a kiss and you could happily spend the rest of your life tucked away under the blankets there with him

but he’s got a concert to get ready for and both of you know it

the last rehearsal before the concert goes off without a hitch, and if anyone notices how you and jungkook are on good terms again, no one says anything about it

the concert is incredible. the boys smash it.

you are beaming when jungkook comes off the stage after his solo, ready with a bottle of water and a towel and plenty of congratulatory words

he beams right back, scooping you off your feet and twirling you in a full circle before putting you back down again

(his stylists are a little dismayed by the rumpled state of his clothes, but they can’t say much when namjoon destroys everyone’s outfits daily. they’re used to it.)

besides, all the staff can see just how happy he is around you

afterward, you all go out for a celebratory dinner, toasting to a successful tour kickoff

jungkook sits beside you and cracks inane jokes the entire time, and you spend the entire evening laughing your ass off with him

naturally, he finds his way back to your hotel room that night

and pretty much every night after, from la to hamilton to london

you’re in berlin when he first broaches the topic of taking your relationship public

“jungkook, we can’t! i’ll be fired!”

“no you won’t”

“how can you be so sure?”

“i’m negotiating my contract renewal right now, and i’m making sure that nothing prohibits me from dating. i want to be with you, noona.”

“but jungkook…”

“don’t you want to be with me?”

“yes, of course i do-”

“then that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?”

he kisses you before you can speak again, and all your protests and arguments fly out of your head the moment his lips meet yours

the very next morning you agree to gradually make your relationship public, first to the other boys and then bang pd and the rest of the bighit staff

(most of them already knew though)

everyone’s happy for you, even the company higher-ups, because it’s so easy to see how happy jungkook is these days

(and like, lowkey, sungdeuk has already decided to spoil rotten any kids you may have in the future)

but no one is happier than you and jungkook

as soon as the tour ends, you extend your visa so that you can stay in korea longer with him

jungkook is yours and you are his, and life is good ♡

#jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #anonymous #ask lia #answered

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flowerbeom · 5 years

Text

50 Questions Tag

Tagged by my resident Kiwi, @prettywordsyouleft, thank you darling.

1. What takes too much of your time?

Working, writing, dancing.

2. What makes your day better?

Random things, honestly. Honestly, the other day I saw a man run after his kid after they got out of the car just to give him a hug before going to school - and I melted. But generally speaking, my family, my boyfriend, my pets and good music.

3. What’s the best thing that happened to you today?

Today? I’ve only been awake for two and a half hours, but maybe that I got my winged eyeliner right in one go.

4. What fictional place would you like to go to?

World of Spirited Away, or Howl’s Moving Castle, or Ponyo, or anything Gbihli related it would seem...

5. Are you good at giving advice?

Sometimes. Worse at taking it.

6. Do you have any mental illness?

Mild depression and generalized anxiety.

7. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis?

Yep, not as often as I used to. But it’s fucking terrifying every time it happens.

8. What musician inspired you the most?

Probably Queen and Michael Jackson growing up. Anytime anyone asks that ‘if you could have dinner with any musician” or “if you could see any musician perform live” its always Queen. Without a second’s thought, it’s always Queen.

9. Have you ever fallen in love?

Three times exactly.

10. What’s your dream date?

Something understated where we can get to know each other. Whether it’s something chill, like a cafe date, or something fun, like an arcade or carnival; if there’s vibes and chemistry, then I’m all for it. Don’t give me anything of grandeur on the first date, I’ll just think you’re a pompous asshole.

11. What do others notice about you?

That I can be quite hyper and weird. First to break the ice in hard situations. Essentially the first to jump.

And that I have a lot of love to give. A lot. You have 100% of my trust at the start, its then you’re job to keep it.

12. What is an annoying habit you have?

I take on too much and don’t finish them to the fullest. And I don’t put away clean laundry straight away and end up with 2/3 of my closet in a pile.

13. Do you still talk to your first love?

Well he recently got married, so that’s a hard no.

14. How many ex’s do you have?

15. How many songs are in your playlist?

I don’t know. Probably close to 10k. My music taste is beyond eclectic and the music I listen to changes on the daily, hourly... you get my point.

16. What instruments can you play?

Piano. Guitar. Bass and Ukelele.

17. Who do you have the most pictures of?

On my phone? Lim Jaebeom....

18. Where would you like to go before you die?

I travel a lot and consider any place I haven’t been to a place I want to do before I die. Sans War Torn countries and New York... I really didn’t like New York.

19. What is your zodiac?

Cancer

20. Do you relate to it?

I relate to my Myer Briggs more. ENFP But I found this online and will highlight the things relevant to me..

Strengths: Tenacious, highly imaginative, loyal, emotional, sympathetic, persuasive

Weaknesses: Moody, pessimistic, suspicious, manipulative, insecure

Cancer likes: Art, home-based hobbies, relaxing near or in water, helping loved ones, a good meal with friends

Cancer dislikes: Strangers, any criticism of Mom, revealing of personal life

21. What is happiness to you?

My family, my boyfriend, my friends, my pets, succeeding in a goal and food.

22. Are you going through anything right now?

Yup.

23. What’s the worst decision you’ve ever made?

Not being better with money a few years ago. And now I’m really fucking suffering.

24. What’s your favourite store?

There’s a strip of stores near my work that is practically Korean beauty, fashion and Japanese streetwear. And I frequent that strip a lot. (I seem to always be ironically dressed by Jaebeom, even though I’m older and have rocked my style for close to 16 years.... )

25. What’s your opinion on abortion?

It’s a personal choice. But I am of the camp of if you’re a firm believer that you won’t be able to take care of that child, or it’s absolutely the wrong time for you have a child, then you should not let that child suffer. I’ve had very long discussions with my partner about it, and we both believe that if it’s right, then it’s right.

26. Do you keep a bucket list?

Not really. I’m more of the ‘if you want to do it, then do it’ mentality. I can be very narrow minded.

27. Do you have a favourite album?

Hmmmm. Let’s dive into the back catalogues shall we? A Night At The Opera - Queen Thriller - Michael Jackson A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out - Panic! At The Disco Verse 2 - JJ Project Focus - JUS2

28. What do you want for your birthday?

To have a big dinner with my family. I used to want a lot when I was younger, always useless things. But as I got older I just want to spend time with my family.

29. What are most people’s first impression of you?

That I’m a conversationalist.

30. What age do you seem according to most people?

At least 3-4 years younger than I actually am. I got voted as a 21 year old the other week. It made my 27 year old ass real happy.

31. Where do you keep your phone while you’re sleeping?

Charging on the bedside table.

32. what word do you say the most?

Like. But. Umm..

33. What’s the oldest age you would date?

I never really thought about age. I’ve been with my partner for 7 years and we met when I was 21. (he was actually my birthday present, but that’s a story for another time) and he was 24. We’re never going to date anyone else ever again, so this doesn’t really apply.

34. What’s the youngest age you would date?

Again, doesn’t apply.

35. What job/career do most people say would suit you?

According to a lot of people: writer, journalist, comedian

36. What’s your favourite music genre?

RnB, Alternative, Kpop - but not all Kpop... like Kpop is an industry... I don’t know...

37. If you could live in any country in the world, where would it be?

Japan.

38. What is your current favourite song?

Currently? LOL. Just One Day - BTS

39. How long have you had this blog for?

Some time in June, 2018

40. What are you excited for?

Heading to Auckland in a month for a dodgeball tournament.

41. Are you a better talker or listener?

I sit in the middle of both.

42. What is the last productive thing you did?

I meal prepped lunch for the week and wrote 4k words of Chapter 5 of When I See You.

43. What do you want for Christmas?

No idea. I never know this early in the year.

44. What class do you get the best grades in?

English and English Literature.

45. On a scale of 1-10, how are you feeling right now?

7.33

46. What can you see yourself doing in 10 years?

Ahhhh..... not being a financial fuck up...

47. When did you first get your heartbreak?

About 2 years ago, I almost screwed up my relationship with my current partner. I really hurt him and thought we’d never get through. But we did, and I’ll never forget what I did to almost end us.

48. At what age do you want to get married?

Ummm.. I thought I’d be married by now. So let’s not have this conversation shall we...

49. What career did you want to have as a child?

Teacher or Chef.

50. What do you crave right now?

Sleep.

- - - - -

Tagging: @urlocalkpoptrash @sunshinesmilehobi @jacksonurs @pjmlog @juruwu @reveluv-army @got7-markjinson @ijustwantacue @katdefbeom

#50 questions tag #get to know this weirdo

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lizartgurl · 6 years

Text

Perfect Marks (Aqualad x OC Soulmate AU)

Word Count: 6200+

Summary: Write something on your skin, it appears on your soulmate’s skin as well

My sole goal of joining tumblr was to make decent Kaldur content and this shows it. I don’t think I’ve ever written anything this fast-paced, and I had no idea a one-shot would turn out this long, but I really enjoyed writing it!

Based off of @the-shadow-of-atlantis‘s soulmate au for Kaldur and her oc, Annabella (x) and inspired by @writing-yj‘s The Bird Tattoo xreader series (x). You guys are both incredible writers, and I love reading your fanfics :)

@staar-sailorr @super-spoiler @lesbianstargirl @flamebiirds @princes-jasmine (please let me know if any of you do not want to be tagged in my oc fics in the future. i’m just tagging you for now becuz)

The morning of her first day of high school, Emma Grayson screamed.

Half of Gotham must have heard it, if not the entire manor. Rick, just down the hall, skid right into the bathroom door trying to help.

“Emma, what is it?”

“Just look!” Emma shrieked, shoving her arm in his face. Her little brother's eyes went wide at the thick black marks winding up and down both her arms.

“You and Roy went out clubbing last night and didn't bring me?” He asked, with a twinkle in his eye.

“Well how do you know we didn't sneak Wally with us?” Emma snapped.

He shrugged, leaning against the doorway with an insufferable smirk that he couldn't hide. “Wally and I are too tight for him to leave me out of any shenanigans.”

Bruce materialized in the doorway before Emma could smack Rick, and sighed as he saw the marks on her arms.

“You don't remember getting any tattoos yesterday?” He asked.

“No.” Emma shook her head.

“And you're not hungover, so you probably wouldn't have blacked out,” he murmured, taking Emma's arm in his hands to examine the marks. “Do they hurt at all?”

Emma shrugged. “They itch a little, but not painfully.”

Bruce nodded. “They must be your soulmate's markings then. Probably tattoos.”

Emma sighed. She herself wasn’t very artistic, so she never would have drawn something so elaborate on herself, but she never took into account that her soulmate might be. And if they were tattoos, that meant that even if her soulmate showered five times a day, they would never come off of either of them. Emma was absolutely terrified of needles and vowed to never get a tattoo. She never thought she'd be paired with someone who got those giant sleeve tattoos, much less tattoos at all.

“Get dressed, make sure you don't have anymore. Richard, you go get dressed too. I'll see you both downstairs for breakfast in a minute.” Bruce instructed.

Emma locked the door behind them and bravely faced her reflection in the silver-framed mirror. They each started on her hands, snake heads, with no embellishments other than an eye and an open mouth. The snakes then twisted around her arms three times and continued on to her shoulders. After taking off her PJs and turning around a couple times, she found that they connected, arcing down to her lower back.

A few minutes and a couple puffy eyes later, she met Bruce in the dining room, taking her usual place across from Rick.

“For you, Miss Emma.” In addition to her breakfast platter of eggs and bacon, Alfred handed Emma a jar of concealer that matched her skin tone.

Bruce wiped his chin of jelly from his toast. “With tattoos of this size, keeping them hidden is vital to your secret identity. Not only would people try to replicate the tattoos to claim to be your soulmate, they would also connect Finch and Emma Grayson with the similar tattoos.”

Emma nodded, and began to apply the concealer to the back of her hands. Her school uniform and her Finch uniform already had long sleeves in case of such a situation. Now the rest of her wardrobe would follow suit. At least Gotham was miserable, cold, and wet ninety-nine percent of the time.

Alfred dropped Emma and Rick off at Gotham Academy before taking Bruce to the WayneTech offices, and Bruce made a big show of seeing his children off on their first day of a new school year for the all-seeing public eye.

“We can look more into them tonight, Emma. How about that?” He offered with a winning smile, a last attempt to cheer her up.

“Sure,” she smiled back. Rick had already run off for the building with the middle school classes. Emma was moving up to the high school building this year, with grades nine through twelve.

She plopped into the open seat between Barbara Gordon and Lucas Fox in first-period chemistry.

“Hey, Emma! How you doing?” Babs asked, sounding peppy and upbeat.

“Long morning.” She groaned.

“As always on the first day of school, huh?” Luke asked with a chuckle.

Emma giggled too. Her friends knew just how to cheer her up, even if they didn't know what was going on.

“Emma?” Barbara was squinting at her hands, “Are you wearing-”

“Good Morning!” The chem teacher trilled along with the bell, and Barbara forgot what she was going to say.

Head cushioned in her arms in the edge of the second row, Emma snuck a look at her two closest friends, who both had their sleeves rolled up to their elbows in the warm classroom. She had to settle for just taking off her sweater.

Luke and Barbara were the two smartest students in their grade at prestigious Gotham Academy, which rubbed off on Emma. They were both in the computer science club. Luke was in robotics club, and wanted to be an engineer like his father, Lucius Fox, head of the R&D department of WayneTech. Barbara's father was Police Commissioner James Gordon of the GCPD, and spent every spare moment in the library. Emma took to joining her, and Rick and Luke would join them.

Instead of paying attention to the long list of safety procedures that Doctor Crane was going over, Emma spent first period thinking over whether or not to tell her friends. Would someone overhear? Would they let things slip?

It would just have to be another secret she kept from them.

Bruce was gone from the time that they got home to late at night, so Emma persuaded Rick to help her look through all the books that the Manor’s library had on Soulmates and their markings, so long as they got to watch Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark while doing it.

Most of the books Emma read were general knowledge. Whenever you wrote or drew something on your skin, it appeared on your soulmate’s body as well. Mostly it was just notes and reminders, doodles in the midst of boredom, but tattoos were a popular tactic to try and find your soulmate quicker, by looking for the exact replica of your tattoo on someone else.

There were several books on the language of markings, symbols ranging from elaborate to simple that could send a certain message to your soulmate were they also well-versed in the language of markings. Emma didn’t find anything resembling her soulmate’s markings in any of those books, so she tossed them on the floor with Rick’s books, which had slid off his lap after he fell asleep shortly after Indy entered the Well of Souls.

Sighing tiredly, Emma shut off the TV, but the excitement of her soulmate’s markings and the first day of school all rolled into one left her exhausted, and she never wanted to leave the sunken cushions of her favorite TV couch.

Shrouded in night, the room faded into darkness. Emma removed her sweater to use a blanket, and stopped.

“Rick,” she whispered, jabbing him in the shoulder.

“Huh?” He asked, “Is the movie over?”

“You fell asleep, but look,” She held out her arms, bare beneath her t-shirt. The black, geometric shapes were now outlined by a faint blue glow, reflected on Emma’s face. The light itself seemed almost alive, and thought it could have been the lack of sleep, Emma thought she saw it swirling around the room, back and forth like an ocean’s current. Beautiful and powerful. Magical.

Rick laughed giddly. “That’s so cool!” He said, suddenly awake.

Emma laughed too. Maybe her soulmate’s markings weren’t so bad after all.

Weeks passed without them fading. Bruce had been right about them being tattoos. They itched like fresh tattoos, though the ink wasn’t in her skin. Alfred gave her a soothing skin balm to rub on her arms before she went to bed each night, guided by the blue lights. They made the perfect night light, though Emma had long since outgrown such things. She’d jolt awake from a nightmare, only to have the magical light envelop her with a tingling sensation somewhat like an electric shock. It was comforting, like a never-ending hug.

Sometimes, on patrol, when Bruce wasn’t looking, Emma would take off her glove and let the snake-head glow, smiling somewhat as she showed it all of Gotham City. Her soulmate must really like snakes, and if they cast the light that her tattoos did, maybe they were a magician like Zatara.

Emma desperately hoped that her soulmate was a hero. She wanted to be able to tell them everything, to share both parts of her life with her soulmate.

“Woah,” Wally gaped appreciatively as Emma showed off her right arm in the seclusion of a back alley in Star City, just outside the “Arrow-Cave,” or the “Quiver,” which Ollie was convinced would catch on.

Roy nodded, but from the way his lower lip jutted out as he slowly nodded, it was clear that he was impressed by whoever had etched these tattoos.

“Show us your tattoos again, Roy.” Emma said. She rolled her sleeve back down, cutting off the light.

Roy rolled up the right arm sleeve of his shirt, exposing the small constellation on his shoulder. The big dipper, or the bear and the birds according to those who had generously raised him. It was a permanent reminder of his childhood and what he had learned with them. After Emma smiled, he showed off the tattoo on his left shoulder. The one from his soulmate.

It was a perfect circle, a shield, he insisted, with the head of Medusa and several wriggling snakes spreading from the center. The Aegis, Athena’s shield. Obviously his soulmate had a penchant for Greek mythology.

“I’m thinking of getting a tattoo,” Wally lounged against the brick wall.

“Oh really? What would you get? A hot dog?” Rick asked, balancing in a handstand on top of the fence that cut the alleyway in half.

“Ha, ha.” Wally huffed, offended. “What would you get, Boy Wonder?” He demanded.

“A bird, duh.” He flipped in the air, landing neatly in front of Wally, “A robin, to be precise. Right behind the ear.”

“What about you, Emma?” Roy asked. “If you got a tattoo, what would you get?”

Emma leaned back on top of the trash can, using her arms to prop herself up. “Probably a music heart, with the treble and bass clefs twisted into the shape of a heart.” But she still wasn’t certain. That didn’t seem special enough compared to her soulmate’s tattoos, or Roy’s tattoo, but it was the best that she could come up with in two seconds.

Rick and Wally were still bickering. “So if it’s not a hot dog, what is it then? Nachos?”

“No! It’d be the digits of pi, stretching from my right hand to my left, like Emma’s!”

“Nerd.”

“Geek.”

“Aren’t those the same thing?” Roy asked as the younger two continued to yell. He knew better than to expect an answer.

Emma shook her head, grinning at the secret she was keeping, this one more for her own amusement than out of necessity. Rick had sketched out where he wanted his tattoo earlier, and now it was hidden beneath his raven-colored mop. And when Wally had taken off his mask to eat some of Ollie’s cookies in the safety of the Quiver, Emma glimpsed a few wobbly sharpie lines in Rick’s non-artistic peeking out from under the bright red hair. Wally was too distracted to notice it for himself, and it was hidden beneath his lightning bolts whenever Rick had been looking at him.

The next day at school, chem class was cancelled because Doctor Crane was missing. Emma and Babs went to the library while Luke finished his homework in the computer lab. Alysia Yeoh wrote her phone number on Barbara’s hand in black pen as the three discussed Harry Potter and the New Hunger Games movie. Then in the middle of civics class, the same ten numbers jumped out at Emma, faint on the back of Luke’s writing hand and nearly made her spit out her strawberry lemonade.

She texted Roy in glee so she wouldn’t blurt out and ruin the surprise for Luke. He let her, though he wasn’t really the kid of person that got obsessed with soulmates.

Emma, however could not wait to meet her soulmate.

Batman called in Flash and Aquaman to help out with a new villain, calling himself “Scarecrow”. Finch was texting Roy with updates every five minutes, and managed to catch the end of Aquaman’s reply as the Batmobile roared towards the Harbor.

“I will be bringing an apprentice of sorts with me.”

“You have an apprentice?” Batman asked. His monotone betrayed no surprise.

“A recent development, I will admit. It will not be a problem, will it? I want to get him started as soon as possible, and after all, Flash and yourself have sidekicks of your own, as does Green Arrow, some of them younger than Aqualad.”

“I take it that’s his name, then?”

“I take it will be fine, then?”

Robin snorted. It wasn’t every day that they heard a member of the Justice League sassing Batman. Typically, Wonder Woman was the only person who could get away with that, on account of her lack of weaknesses. Aquaman may or may not pay for that comment sooner or later if he didn’t watch his back.

“Meet you at the rendezvous point.” Batman cut off the transmission, glaring at his kids in the mirror. Finch only shrugged back at him. Her tattoos were itching again.

Flash pulled up seconds before the Batmobile came to a complete stop.

“Ha! We were here first!” Robin cackled.

“Only counts if you’re out of the car, boy wonder,” Kid patted him on top of his head. Emma grumbled, wishing that Roy were here, so at least she wouldn’t feel like an outcast to their flirting. She pulled out her phone again.

“Finch, phone away. Scarecrow can track the signal.” Batman instructed. She shoved it securely in her belt pocket.

“So how long did Fish man say it’d take him?” Flash asked.

“He’s probably taking the scenic route to show Aqualad around,” Robin piped up.

“Aqualad?” It was Kid’s turn to be surprised now.

In answer, there was a splash from the docks, and Aquaman flew out of the water, crouching in a majestic landing a moment later. A smaller splash followed, with a much less graceful landing that nearly sent the poor “Aqualad” stumbling back into the water.

“Woah!” Finch lunged forward, grabbing his wrist.

“Th-thank you, my lady,” He fell over himself to find his balance, bowing as courteously as he could with sea legs.

“Oh, no worries!” Emma insisted. “And- and you can call me Finch, please.”

“Apologies,” He said immediately, “I am afraid I am not used to the surface yet, it is still very new to me.”

“You will get used to it, Kaldur’ahm,” Aquaman gave a broad smile, clapping his new protege on the shoulder.

“Robin, Kid Flash, I would like to introduce my protege, Aqualad.”

“Cool!” Kid sped over, nearly shoving Finch to the side to shake Aqualad’s hand. “I’m Kid Flash! The coolest superhero around, but you can call me Wally when we’re off-duty.”

Robin saluted. “I’m Robin. Call me Rob. And you’ve already met my sister, Finch.”

“Yes, I have. It is wonderful to meet all of you.”

“Well, there’s also Speedy, but his mentor has a hot date with Black Canary tonight so they’re all currently unavailable,” Kid Flash snickered as their mentors discussed the issue at hand.

Finch gave him an elbow in the gut. “So, Aqualad, how long have you been working with Aquaman?” She nodded towards the adults, and Aqualad followed her indication.

“How are you working with Aquaman?” Robin asked, “I didn’t know the guy had any kids.”

“He does not,” Aqualad assured him. “I am one of his subjects. About two weeks ago, Ocean Master and his followers attacked Atlantis. Though he appeared to best Aquaman, my friends and I, students at Her Majesty’s Conservatory of Sorcery, were able to distract Ocean Master long enough for our king to recover. To show his gratitude, he gave us the opportunity to become his protege. I was the only one who accepted. I have spent the past few weeks training with my king and learning more about the surface world, the dangers it faces, and the threats to Atlantis.”

“Hey, kids! Gather round!” Flash beckoned them over, and Emma groaned inwardly at being called kids. They were on the younger side of teenage years, yeah, but the work they did was anything but childish. Unless you were Wally, and then you could be immature about anything.

While the adults had the dangerous job of actually going in after Scarecrow, the kids were designated to the much less dangerous assignment of patrolling the perimeter to make sure that Scarecrow nor his recently-acquired henchmen got away.

Finch didn’t mind it that much, she could get away with being lazy when Batman wasn’t looking over her shoulder every second, but Kid and Robin were a little upset at being left behind. They mirrored each other, chin propped up in one hand each.

“Why did Batman need to call us in again?” Kid asked. “I mean, isn’t he always like, ‘Bleh bleh, I work alone, bleh bleh,” He imitated the dark and scratchy voice of a vampire.

“Scarecrow’s only weapon is his fear gas, and he’s trying to figure out how to transform that gas into a liquid to infect Gotham’s water supply, and maybe the whole coast, and he needs someone in forensics who can track the fear gas chemicals super-fast, like your uncle. I’m pretty sure Aquaman invited himself along when Flash blabbed about the possibility of the coasts being affected.” Robin listed off.

“Well, the oceans are Aquaman’s responsibility. He takes that very seriously,” Aqualad was the only one of them standing at attention. His eyes were used to the dimness of the water, giving him an edge in night-vision. “He is a very good king, and he does not wish to let down his people.”

Finch set aside her phone. “It sounds like you really respect him.”

“I do. He has been very kind to my family. I admire his heroism for Atlantis and the world.”

Emma’s mind suddenly swelled with curiosity about Atlantis, but before she could ask, the doors of the warehouse they’d been staking out blew open to smoke, and about ten dark-clothed thugs ran out, coughing violently.

“Is that fear gas?” Kid asked.

“Nah, that’s probably just Batman’s smoke pellets.” Emma shot her grappling cord at a tower of cargo containers. “Try to keep up, Gentlemen!” She sang, swinging off towards the escaping thugs. She landed on one, taking him out. Another got a kick to the jaw, and the other hit her in the back. She staggered forward to regain her balance, alone against nine. Maybe she should have waited for the boys, that way she wouldn’t have been alone in facing them.

The thugs said nothing, but grunted, swinging and lunging at her as she danced around them, doing what she could to stay out of their grip and take advantage of any openings.

“Finch, look out!” It took a moment for her to register the almost-unfamiliar voice before Aqualad shoved her out of the way of a thug sneaking up behind her, getting trapped in the bear hug grip instead. Aqualad refused to lose his cool, and took a deep breath. A blue glow started at his shoulders, twisting down his arms, and letting out a burst of bio-electricity that stunned his captor with a scream.

“Woah,” Wally’s eyes were wide with admiration.

Emma’s eyes were wide too.

His tattoos glowed a warm blue hue.

And they matched the marks hidden on Emma’s arms.

“Emma, get up.”

“No.”

“We’re gonna be late for school.”

“Go without me.”

“No.” Still in his PJs, Rick took a flying leap at Emma’s queen-sized bed and bounced until she threw off her covers and started bouncing with him.

“So you met your soulmate, huh?”

Emma bit her lip before she could bite back with a “You too”.

“I thought I was ready to meet them, but I guess I’m not,” She said, still bouncing.

“Well, you don’t have to tell him. Not yet, anyways,” He pointed out. “Me, however, I’m not gonna be able to hold this in for very long.” Emma suddenly wanted to shout out that Wally was Rick’s soulmate, but she held herself back.

“It feels wrong,” Emma said, landing on her butt. Rick landed next to her, bouncing a couple times.

“He’s from Atlantis. He should have been soulmates with someone from Atlantis, someone who understands his tattoos and markings and their cultural significance,” She traced the tattoo up her right arm, an eel, not a snake. Aqualad had told a nervously curious Wally last night. After the fight and noticing Aqualad’s tattoos, it was like someone had flipped a switch from casual to awkward. She couldn’t even look at him without turning bright red. According to the marks on her skin, this was the man she was destined to spend her life with, to fall in love with. And she had known him for less than a day.

“You could always learn more about Atlantis. Ask him, talk to him.” Rick pointed out. “I think Bruce gave Aquaman a water-proof cell phone for AL to use. I can look up his number if you want-”

“No, I can ask him next time we team up, thank you very much.” Emma interrupted.

She sighed. “It probably would be a good idea to start there, though.”

Rick hugged her, his arms around her neck. “It’ll all work out, you’ll see.” He promised.

Emma hugged his arms, holding her little brother. “Thanks, Rick.”

“Master Richard! Miss Emma! You’re going to be late for school!”

The team was formed a few months later. Roy refused entry to the kiddie club, leaving an opening for Superboy and Miss Martian, neither of whom had any markings for themselves or from their soulmates. Emma was ecstatic, though both she and Aqualad missed having Speedy around. Artemis came next, an arrow tattoo wrapped around her bicep, and Speedy became “Red Arrow”, to show that he was moving on.

In the Junior Justice League base of Mount Justice, hero aliases were traded for civilian ID’s and nicknames. Wally remained the only one in confidence of Finch and Robin’s secret ID’s, but other than the three of them, there was Conner, Megan, Artemis (yes, it was the same as her hero name), and Kaldur.

Kaldur’s maturity and level-headedness got him elected team leader, in charge of organizing missions and getting the ragtag team to work together. Emma found herself sticking close by to help out with paperwork and discussing team problems and training with Kaldur. Not just because she wanted to get to know Kaldur, but because she felt so comfortable with him. She could talk to him about how red skittles were clearly the best out of all skittles, and he would listen intently. She could ask him a rhetorical question and he would answer patiently, or he would help her find the answer. He put time and effort into her, and she did the same. He was still studying and experiencing Surface Culture, and Emma loved explaining things to him.

Time set aside for mission discussions more often than not turned into these discussions of almost nothing. Kaldur was quite businesslike, compared to everyone else, at least, but Rick insisted that he “melted” around Emma.

“Still think that fate made a mistake?” He asked.

Emma shrugged. “I feel guilty for hiding it now. What if he thinks I only spent time with him because he’s my soulmate and not because...” She trailed off.

“Because you really care about him?” Artemis asked, loudly sipping a can of pineapple juice stolen from Wally. She and Megan knew, of course. Those things tended to happen when you shared a locker room.

Emma shrugged. “I just don’t think I’m ready yet.”

The others were, though, and she could tell.

“It’s not their secret to tell.” Roy told her over the phone. “If any of them so much as blurt the world ‘soulmate’ in Kal’s direction before you give the okay, I’ll kick all their butts.”

“How do you put up with it?” She asked him. Roy was basically a best friend to both Emma and Kaldur. Keeping it a secret from one of them had to be hard.

“I’ll admit, it’s hilarious seeing you two blushing and talking like that and he apparently doesn’t get a clue.”

“You jerk!” Emma threw a pillow at the wall to substitute for throwing one at Roy.

“Seriously, Em,” His laughter had faded, “You like him, don’t you? And he likes you. What do you have to lose by telling him?”

Nothing. She had nothing to lose. Or did she? She couldn’t tell, and it drove her insane.

“Is something bothering you, Finch?” Aqualad asked.

“Dragonfire,” She reminded him, flexing her new wings. A gift from her old friend the Joker.

“Yes, of course. My apologies,” He still bowed his head formally. Emma liked it when he used Atlantean mannerisms.

“It’s okay, I like that you still call me that sometimes.” She liked it so much her stomach tickled. She passed it off as her new powers being irritating.

Raquel overheard, and like the others she had it.

“We have to set them up,” She declared to the team while Kaldur and Dragonfire were off doing “important paperwork”.

“Agreed,” Artemis pounded her fist on the island counter for emphasis.

“But how are we going to convince Dra that she should tell? The longer she waits, the more nervous she gets.” Wally said

“Shouldn’t we let them decide?” Conner tried to say.

The PA switched on in a burst of static. “Team, report to the mission room.”

According to intel from Batman, Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow, had escaped from Arkham Asylum and was hiding somewhere in Miami, Florida. The team’s mission was to find Scarecrow and whoever was helping him, and make it hard for Scarecrow to hurt anyone until Batman and the League could come in and deal with Scarecrow themselves.

While everyone else donned a tank top to go with their shorts, Emma stuck with her usual long-sleeved shirt in the Florida sun.

“Are you not hot in that?” Kaldur asked.

“I’m fine,” Dragonfire insisted with a smile. Several girls walked past, admiring Kal’s tattoos, and Emma turned away, just a little bit jealous. Of course, it was her own fault for not being more open about their marks in the first place. The team was split up patrolling the city. Kid Flash and Robin scouted out the perimeter, Superboy, Miss Martian, and Artemis had the malls, Zatanna and Rocket had the streets, and Kaldur and Dragonfire had the beach. They walked in silence, side by side through the warm sand, keeping an eye out for any shady or straw-like figures.

And then Kaldur reached down and took Emma’s hand.

“Huh?” She didn’t realize that she’d said that out loud, as if he’d said something she’d misheard.

“I thought that it would sell our inconsequential appearance if we pretended to be a couple,” He said, “Is that alright?”

Emma smiled, thankful that her blush was hidden beneath her sunglasses and the brim of her floppy straw hat. “That’s just fine,” She assured him.

It wasn’t awkward, and it certainly wasn’t boring when Kaldur was around. There was no doubt about it, Emma knew that she was in love.

And then there were screams.

Emma tried to stop the crying child that was running down the beach, but she only screamed louder and ran in the other direction, avoiding anyone who reached out or stopped to try and help her, until she finally fell to her knees, curled up in a little ball. More kids were appearing with those symptoms, jumping at every little movement or sound. Fear gas.

No time to wait for the League, Dragonfire and Kaldur sprinted the way the kids had come.

“Aqualad to Team, come in, the symptoms of mass fear gas have been spotted on the beach. Rendezvous at our coordinates ASAP.”

“Kid Flash to Aqualad, Rob and I found the remains of a lab used to create fear gas about five miles inland.”

“Tag and bag the evidence, then come help us,” Dragonfire instructed. More and more people were screaming out of fear now, not just the kids.

They spotted Scarecrow out at sea, on a rickety old boat bobbing on the waves that were becoming more and more tumultuous every second. Had the clouds been that dark and ominous a second ago?

“Hold on!” Kaldur shouted. Emma wrapped her arms around his torso as he dove into the waves, holding on for dear life as he made for the boat like a torpedo. He shot out of the water and Emma spread her dragon wings, dropping him on the ship like a bomb. Scarecrow threw canisters of fear gas at both of them, but Emma fried them with her electricity, negating the anxiety-inducing abilities. Her fists crackled and her hair billowed with static as she hovered above the ship like a bird of prey, providing cover as Kaldur fought off Scarecrow’s guards. Emma went for the big man himself. It was strange to think that this was her old biology teacher, but given how teachers were treated in America, she really couldn’t blame him. She swept in with a hook to the jaw, sending him stumbling backwards.

“How do we stop it, Crane?” She demanded, going for intimidation. The guy liked fear, right?

“Such power...” Crane hissed, “Tell me, child, what scares a god like you?”

Emma shot him in the arm with another lightning bolt. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Scarecrow grabbed at her shirt, tearing off some fabric. She threw him off with another blast of electricity that tore her shirt even more. It wasn’t made of the same durable stuff that her uniform was.

“Dragonfire!” Aqualad shouted, “I think we have been exposed to minimal effects of the fear gas!”

“Probably!” She agreed, ducking under Scarecrow’s hit. “Try to stay focused! You can fight it off!” She promised.

She turned back to Scarecrow, who now had an aerosol-like can pointed at her face, and sprayed before jumping over the side of the boat. His henchmen follow suit, and Dragonfire heard the sound of a submarine roaring away below the choppy waves.

“Dragonfire!” Aqualad caught her as she rubbed at her eyes, coughing violently.

“Dragonfire, Finch, hang on, you can fight it,” He urged, setting her down on the

Emma heard none of that, her ears were too clogged, no matter how she tried to shake off the fear gas.

She looked down at her arms, the sleeves of her shirt completely gone. Kaldur looked down and saw them too. He quickly pulled away, backing up several steps.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Finch’s voice quavered, echoing in her ears as Aqualad swam in and out of her vision.

It cleared long enough to see the disgusted look on his face.

She was out cold before she hit the water.

Emma awoke tangled in soft white sheets. She hugged herself, running her fingers against the rough ink. They itched more than ever now, reminding her of what happened on the boat.

Kaldur hated her. He had to. She hated herself.

“Good, you’re awake,” Black Canary smiled down at her kindly, approaching the side of her bed.

“You’re all right,” She said at the sight of tears flooding Emma’s eyes. “The fear gas should be just about flushed from your system by now. Aquaman and Batman are helping to oversee the cleanup of Miami Beach, and even though Scarecrow’s escaped, no one was killed. Wonder Woman and Flash are making sure that everyone receives a vaccination for the fear gas.”

That did little to assuage Emma’s rapidly beating heart. “Is Kaldur-” She stopped herself, “Is Aqualad okay?” She whispered.

Canary’s smile brightened. “That’s right! He’s your soulmate!” She patted Emma’s bare arm, “Just one moment, I’ll go get him for you.”

“No, Dinah wait-!” The door whisked shut behind Dinah before Emma could finish.

She leaped to her feet, shaking like jello. She had to get out of there, she couldn’t face Kaldur like this. She grabbed a change of clothes, lying on the counter, and tripped over her big feet. Seconds before she smacked into the linoleum, strong arms with too-familiar tattoos caught her, lifting her up.

“Hi,” Kaldur said, giving a small smile.

Emma pushed him away, falling back into the bed. “Go away,” She demanded, throat thick with tears.

Kaldur’s eyes went wide, glancing between his tattoos and the marks on Emma’s arms. “Finch? Are you alright?”

She shook her head, “Just leave me alone!”

“Finch, what is wrong?”

“Don’t call me that!” She screamed. “I get it, I’m not what you wanted in a soulmate, I’m sorry to disappoint you,” She sobbed.

“But even if you hate me, I have to tell you that I love you. I have been since I met you, before I even knew that we were soulmates.”

Now, Kaldur’s face was screwed up in confusion. He was usually so passive, it was strange to see him like this.

Having said that, Emma was unable to keep her mouth shut. “I love your sincerity and your honesty, your kindness and how much you care. I love your curiosity and fascination with every new thing you find out about the surface world. I love your patience and your smile and that little laugh you make when Rick and Wally are kidding around because we know they’re soulmates but they can’t tell. I didn’t want to tell you I was your soulmate because I wanted to make sure you liked me for me, and that I liked you not just because you were my soulmate.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the blanket in her hands, worried that it might tear if she held it too tight, but it was better than letting the tears she was holding back burst out.

There was she soft pad of bare feet on tile, and Kaldur’s rough but gentle hands brushed some hair from her face.

“I do not hate you, Finch. It would be impossible for me to do so.”

She gasped and opened her eyes. A few tears fell, but Kaldur helped her wipe them away. “I have loved you for a long time, but I hope you can forgive me for not coming forward with my feelings before.” He paused, taking her hand in his. “I was afraid that if you were not my soulmate, you would not be open to dating other people.”

She almost laughed, throwing her arms around him. Kaldur returned her embrace.

“I love how kind you are as well. Your impatience is endearing, and I find it amusing how I seem to be the only person you are patient with. I love how you are always so happy and smiling. I love how stubborn you are, and your commitment to justice for those who need it.

“And I love the fact that you are my soulmate.”

“Are you seriously getting nachos?” Artemis asked, looking at the stereotypical designs that were offered at the most popular tattoo parlor in Happy Harbor. “A lightning bolt would be ten times cooler.”

“Lightning is fleeting but food is forever,” Wally said, attempting to sound old and wizened.

“Yeah, at least until you eat it,” Rick snickered.

“I think I might get lightning,” Emma said. “Or maybe a tiny dragon.”

“Definitely get a dragon,” Raquel agreed, “There’s like fifty heroes who have lightning iconography. You’re the only one who’s got dragon wings.”

“What about Man-bat? Or Blue devil?” Wally pointed out.

“Dude, they’re a bat and a devil, not dragons.” Zatanna said, coming back from her seat with several magical sparkles sprinkled around her wrist like a bracelet. A few moments later, the same style appeared on Raquel’s wrist to go with the white comet on her forearm.

“My turn!” Wally declared with glee, hopping up to the table Zee had been at. “I want the first seven digits of Pi on my ankle,” He said, settling on a price with the tattoo artist.

“What about you, Conner, what are you getting?” Megan asked.

“I can’t get anything here, I’m too strong, but Clark has some tech at the Fortress he can use to put the Superman symbol on my bicep if I really want it.”

“And you do, don’t you?” M’gann giggled.

“Yes, I do.” He nodded firmly. “What are you getting?”

“I don’t know! There are so many cool designs!” She squealed.

“What do you think, Kal? It’s gonna be your tattoo too,” Emma leaned against his shoulder, wearing short sleeves in the summer for the first time in two years, arm in arm with her soulmate.

Kaldur held up the piece of paper he’d been doodling on. “How about this?” He asked, pointing to a small drawing in the corner. A pair of dragon wings, just like hers.

Emma beamed and kissed his cheek. “Perfect.”

#lizart writes #my ocs #nightingale #aquafire #aqualad x oc #kaldur imagine #kaldur'ahm imagine #kaldur #kaldur'ahm #aqualad #fish boy #young justice #soulmate au

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alia-turin · 6 years

Note

I want angst, I want pain... Can I ask you to write a fic or a scenario (of your choice) with such a scene: Gladio is quarreling with his girlfriend and and shouting in a fit of anger: "What a bother you are!". And after it the girl goes away and takes her belongings after saying that she don't want to see Gladio anymore. And you can choice, whether there will be happy or unhappy end.

I wrote that and I realized I haven’t been writing a lot of angst recently and I am so rusty. I need some suffering in my life. Hope you find that to your liking angsty anon!

Fic Title: A Broken HeartRating [Warnings]: G [some swearing, mention of depression and anxiety]Pairing: Gladio x ReaderSummary: Reader and Gladio have been dating for some time now, but Gladio’s work schedule proves to be one of the biggest challenges in their relationship.Note: As mentioned in the warning section there is mention of depression and anxiety, so please proceed with cation

If you feel like supporting this writer consider buying me a coffee: Ko-Fi

Tagging: @birdsandivory @lazarustrashpit @jojopitcher @a-manville-meow @theyearofdiamonddogs @amicitonia @ladychocoberry @akiza-hades-rose

Gladio hasbeen busy recently and you were trying your best to not to make big drama out ofit. You knew what you were getting yourself into once you two started dating.He was after all the Prince’s shield and was going to take his father’s placeone day. You have been patient with all his trainings and missions and youunderstood the burden that was on his shoulder. It killed you on the insidethat there were times you would see each other just once a week, but you neverlet it show. You were happy that you can see him and that is what you showed.But every time he didn’t call you when he was away, every time his mission gota bit longer than you expected you were getting upset. Rationally you knew itwasn’t his fault, he couldn’t neglect his duties because you were lonely andyou wouldn’t want him to do that.

But hidingall these feelings and loneliness deep inside didn’t help. Time passed and youdidn’t get used to the situation. You tried to tell Gladio how you feel, notthat you expected him to do something, you knew he couldn’t, but a least totake it off your chest and let him know how you feel. You tried doing that fewtimes but he went on the defense, thinking you were blaming him for thesituation and just asked you what you expected from him, it was his job. Theseconversations ended like that, you would just keep it to yourself, neither ofyou would talk for about ten minutes and then everything would continue asusual. Nothing was usual. The feelings of loneliness and anxiety weredestroying you. You would get depressed every time he forgot to text you andtell you he was going to be late. At times you couldn’t sleep, worried thatsomething bad had happened to him, binge watching the news hoping and simultaneouslyfearing that you might hear something. Something bad.

Today was oneof these days. He was late, and worse he didn’t even message you. He wasn’tcouple of hours late, he was days late. You had texted his sister, worried thatsomething might have happened, but Iris didn’t know anything. In her typicalcheerful tone, she had just responded that maybe they were just buys and therewas nothing to worry about. She did offer to ask Cor or her father if they knewsomething but you refused. You were ashamed of your feelings, you didn’t wantto sound like the crazy girlfriend that is trying to control him, even if partof your mind knew that it was normal to worry if there was no news from him fordays. She was probably right it was nothing. Eventually that night Gladio camehome, you were half asleep, half awake on the couch when he walked in.

“Hey why areyou not in bed?” he dropped the bag on the ground and walked towards you,kneeling next to the couch and trying to kiss your forehead but you pulled awayas best as you could.

“I waswaiting for you.” Anger, worry and loneliness suddenly went through you at thesame time, your voice shaking and sounding annoyed.

“I’m here,let’s go to bed.” He tried to grab you and carry you to the bedroom, but youpulled away. That was enough. You needed to talk.

“Gladio, no.We need to talk.” You got up and he followed.

“Can we do ittomorrow?” his voice sounded tired and you felt for him, but no. You knew howthat would go. Like every time he says can we talk tomorrow and then tomorrowis already too late. Tomorrow you wouldn’t be angry and he would do somethingsilly but nice for you like buying your breakfast and all the lonely nights andnerves that you had wasted in the past days would be forgotten. No, that had tobe said now, regardless of the consequences.

“No, we can’t.”you said quietly and took a deep breath. “I was worried about you…I cried myself tosleep that’s why I was on the couch. I was staring at my phone wondering if youwould come home today or if you would you even text me to tell me you are notcoming home.”

“Babe, I’msorry I was busy…” he tried to step towards you, but you backed away. That wasnot going to be fixed with hug and a kiss.

“Busy? You werebusy every single minute? You didn’t sleep, you didn’t eat, you were workingevery second? You didn’t have ten seconds to pull your phone out of your pocketand message me hey sorry I am not coming home today. How long does it take youto write a message? An hour?” you were feeling all these emotions going throughyour head. You were angry, you were upset, you were sad. You wanted some sortof validation that you weren’t crazy, that being concerned after three days ofnothing was actually normal.

“I didn’tknow you were worried.” He said in his defense.

You stared athim and realized he didn’t get it. He really didn’t get it. Of course, he didn’t.He wasn’t the one waiting for you for days and he wasn’t the one who watchedthe news every night fearful that he might hear something bad happened. You alwaystexted him, even if you were going to be five minutes late, you never left himhanging regardless of the reason.

“Gladio I worry!”you finally said through tears, the emotions had taken the best of you. “Everytime you are late, every time you don’t tell me that you will be absent formore than you had expected, I worry and I think the worse.”

“That I amcheating on you?” he gave you a smug smile which annoyed you. He really didn’tget it. “Babe, I love you I wouldn’t cheat on you, it’s just work.”

“I don’t careif you cheat on me! Fuck, cheating would be preferable to what I am thinking. I’drather you have your dick sucked by someone else than being injured or worse.” Yougave up. It was pointless he wouldn’t understand no matter what you said. “Ijust need to know you are okay. I do not need to control you or know where youare every second of your life. I just need to know if you are not coming homewhen you said you will. I need to know if you will be late. Every time you don’ttext me when you said you would I watch the stupid news fearing that I wouldhear how the shield’s son got his fucking head eaten by demon.”

“What a botheryou are!” Gladio said this time a bit angrier. “I’m fine, I didn’t think it’ssuch a big deal. I told you I will be back on Tuesday…”

“It’s Friday,Gladio!” you interrupted him. “Three days! Three days no word from you.”

“It happens!”was his response and that send you over the edge. You walked past him, ignoringhim calling your name. “What are you doing?” he asked after you started pilingyour clothes on the bed.

“Leaving.” Youanswered, your eyes filled with tears.

“Because Ididn’t text?” he laughed. “A bit overdramatic.”

“Because youdon’t even try to understand what I am telling you!” you walked in the closetand pulled down a suitcase, he tried to stop you, but you just brushed pasthim. “You assume I am worried that you cheat and I told you is not that. I toldyou I was worried about your safety not that I try to control you. You say isnot big deal. Here is a question for you. What if I walk outside of the wallright now. I don’t know, on a trip with my friends let’s say. I tell you I willbe back tomorrow, but I don’t come back. Another day passes and I am still notback, no word from me. Three days pass and I’m neither back nor showing any signsof life. What would you do?”

He looked atyou as you were talking and packing. You could swear that in his eyes the pointfinally got across, but he wasn’t saying anything.

“I’m lonelyGladio.” You finally said as you closed the suitcase. “You don’t know how mucha message from you improves that. Even if you are not here, just texting megood night does miracles. It’s not the same as you being here but reminds me Iam not completely alone.”

“You are notalone.” He finally said.

“Yes, I am!” youthought for a second if you were ready to do what you were about to do and theanswer was yes. That was for the best. “I cry myself every night to sleep, I stareat my phone all day at work. Every time someone sends me a message I jumphoping it is you and when I see it isn’t I break inside. I tried telling youthat before, but you never listened, just like now.” You dragged your suitcasethrough the door and looked at him. “I’m sorry Gladio. I love you, but I alsocannot put my mental health on the line every couple of weeks.”

He saidsomething after you, but you didn’t listen, you were too busy crying and tryingnot to trip.

On the nextday he texted you saying that he wants to apologize, you ignored the text. Hetexted you back few hours later saying that he knew you had seen the message,you ignored it again. The third message was him being angry, saying that heknew what you were doing, that you were trying to do the exact same thing youwere accusing him of, and that it was childish. It took real restrain not torespond to that. You weren’t accusing him, he had been dismissive towards yourissue and calling you childish because you cared was just another proof he didn’tunderstand what was happening.

Next day hedidn’t text, you thought he finally gave up or was busy with work. It waspainful for you. He was your soulmate and you loved him more than anything butyou had also realized that love won’t sustain you all these troublesome nightsbetween anxiety and tears.

On the thirdday as you were coming from work he was there at your door. You expected thatmight happen, but just seeing him broke you even further.

“We need totalk.” He said as you were unlocking the door.

“I don’t wantto talk and you are trespassing.” You opened the door and were about to shut itin his face but he places his hand on it and blocked it.

“Okay. I needto talk and I want you to listen to me.” He said serious.

“Gladio,there is nothing that you can want from me.” You sighed. “I have been tellingyou for months how I feel. You ignored me. I cannot do that anymore, I cannotsubject myself to that. Please, move your hand away.”

“I won’t damnit!” he slapped his palm hard against the door and you jumped. You knew he won’thurt you even if he was angry, but your instincts still made you move. “Look, Iwas a dick, okay. I’m sorry. You are right, I cannot do that to you. I neverrealized you worry.” You started shaking your head.

“It’s not justthat Gladio. You dismissed me. You didn’t even try to understand. I had toleave so you can understand? What does that mean? That every time I have aproblem I need to leave you so you can have three days to think over it?” yougrabbed the handle and tried to close the door again. “Gladio, no. We cannot doit like that. That is not healthy.”

“I didn’tcome to beg my way back.” He removed his arm from the door, but his body wasstill in the way. “But I want to fix things. I’m leaving however, with thePrince. I don’t know for how long. Maybe days, maybe weeks. I will know afterthe signing of that damn treaty with the empire. I cannot fix things while I amaway. So, I want you to allow me to message you. Please. Please let me call youor text you. Please respond.”

You justnodded unable to do anything else. He had broken your heart once already andyou had the feeling you just punched your ticket to have it broken again.

#gladio #gladiolus amicitia #gladio amicitia #gladio x reader #gladio/reader #my writing

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richiefuckfacetozier · 6 years

Note

Can we request? I would totally wanna see an insecure! richie or eddie fic :)

This request is coming in SO LATE. And I am SO SORRY. It has been sitting in my ask and I honestly don’t know why I haven’t worked on it?! Accept my deepest apologies and an insecure Richie AND Eddie fic. It is based off the Modern AU story @sammy8675309 and I have written on another blog @wearethelosersclub. This is dedicated to the blogs, artists and writers that love Reddie and inspire me! Happy New Year my loves! I am tagging you hope that’s ok!

New Years Kiss

Pairing: Richie and Eddie

Warning: They make-out :)

Also located on Archive of Our Own

“Eddie’s been flirting with you so much lately, Richie,” Beverly said taking off her shirt to pull on a dress. At this point in their 5-year friendship, she did not care about changing in front of him. He would enviably pretend to hit on her anyway.

“Nice knockers, Bev. And I KNOW.” Richie did not even look at her as he plopped down on her bed. He was so tall his feet stuck out past the end of the bed.

“Are you going to kiss him at Midnight?” Beverly asked in what was supposed to be a casual tone.

Richie rolled his eyes knowing what a romantic Beverly was. He would never say this aloud, but Beverly and Ben would have made a great couple because they thrived off drama and everyone’s love life. However, that was never going to happen. Bill made the first move back when they were 13 and now they were 17, miraculously still dating. Ben’s chance was all but gone.

Richie wished he had made a move on Eddie back then. Maybe they would not be so deep in the friend zone that he wanted to scream every time he saw Eddie. However, their friendship meant everything and it came first above any romantic feelings.

“Eddie has been laying on the flirt HARD since our huge fight.” Richie turned on his side to look at Beverly as she put on eyeliner. “What about that shitty fight would change things?”

Beverly rolled her eyes up as she applied the eyeliner to her lower lid. “You are so in love with Eddie that you fucking prevented him from going on his first date. Perhaps he has caught on to the obvious.”

Richie sat up and snatched the cigarette pack on the bedside table. “I was just advising him that he deserved the world and not to go on a date with someone willy-nilly.” He took out a cigarette.

“Which in turn got you two in a huge fucking fight for 3 Days.” Beverly grabbed her lighter from the desk and tossed it to him. “Well, your advice worked. He didn’t go on the date and you managed to convince him it would be a mistake. He is probably flirting with you at last so you get the hint and ask him out yourself.”

“I pushed my hair back for a hangout we did and he said I looked beautiful. I nearly choked.” Richie lit the cigarette taking a long drag from it immediately.

“You say hangout like it was more than that,” Beverly smirked at him through her makeup mirror.

He kept his face neutral. The hangout was a ‘first date’ between them. It was Richie’s way of making it up to him.

When Richie said he would take Eddie out on his first date over text, Eddie did not answer right away. He felt his heartbreak with every passing minute he didn’t text back.

When Eddie finally responded he wrote:‘I know this is just a joke or some guilt thing…but to tell you the truth the idea of my first date with my best friend, sounds surprisingly amazing.’

So they went on a date at the quarry, packed a picnic and hung out the entire day. It was winter time so they did not swim but it was still perfect in every way. Perfect because Richie was with Eddie.

He craved for their relationship to become more than friends. Richie even tried to show this when he entwined their fingers at one point. Eddie turned extremely red squeezing his hand back in a reassuring way.

Nothing more happened which only seemed to confirm that the date was not enough for Eddie and him to be together. They also had not told anyone about the date, so Richie was concerned Eddie felt embarrassed about the whole thing.

“He likes you so much.” Beverly said picking up her mascara. Richie stayed silent smoking thoughtfully. She sighed heavily battling with herself about something until she blurted it out, “Bill told me Eddie has a crush on you.”

Richie laughed blowing out a smoke ring, “Liar. You just want something to happen between us.”

“I’m not lying! Bill told me I swear, but you have already said you wouldn’t believe me if I told you that Eddie is in love with you. WHICH HE IS.” She pointed her mascara at him in a threatening way.

“You are a mastermind using your boyfriend as your puppet to convince me of your lies.” Richie wanted to believe her. Except his insecurities were overpowering anything Beverly told him. “Sorry, need proof by him sucking face with me then I will be convinced.” Richie finished off the cigarette and started to grab another when Beverly stopped him.

“Eddie will not kiss you if you smell like cigarettes.” Beverly grabbed her pack from him and placed a cigarette between her lips.

“Bill’s alright with your addiction, why can’t Eddie?” Richie pouted.

“Bill’s had a little over 4 years of practice and he sometimes smokes too. Eddie has read every bit of information about how smoking kills known to humankind.” Beverly said between puffs.

“I didn’t even tell you the most painful part of all this.” Richie ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

Beverly looked at him concerned, “What?”

“The mix CD he gave me for Christmas…is like only fucking love songs. I basically cried at half of them because they remind me so much of Eddie and I.”

“Oh shit you never cry, what songs?!” Beverly asked excitedly.

“Your Song by Elton John, Lay Me Down by Sam Smith and John Legend, Landslide by Fleetwood Mac, Piece of My Heart by Janis Joplin - to name a few. But the one that really hit home was Ed Sheeran and Beyoncé singing Perfect Duet.” Richie felt his chest tighten just talking about the song.

Beverly’s eyes had grown at each love song Richie listed off, then frowned at the last one, “Wait, I haven’t heard Perfect Duet. How does it go?”

Richie took a breathe and sang,

“I found a love For me Oh darling, just dive right in And follow my lead Well, I found a boy Beautiful and sweet Oh, I never knew you were the someone Waitin’ for me ‘Cause we were just kids when we fell in love Not knowin’ what it was I will not give you up this time But darling, just kiss me slow Your heart is all I own And in your eyes, you’re holding mine.”

Beverly sat down on the bed and gave Richie the cigarette which he took gratefully. He had started tearing up refusing to look at her. She put her head on his shoulder and held his free hand.

“God, you have such a beautiful voice.” Beverly breathed.

Richie smiled, “It is girl in the song but I changed it to boy because it is honestly a gay anthem for Eds and I.”

“Sing that to him tonight and he will kiss you immediately.” Beverly took the cigarette back. “So I will finish this cig, put on lipstick, and we will head to Bill’s place so you can get it on with Eddie!”

“Shut up, Bill. I am literally flirting up a damn storm and Richie is not getting it.” Eddie huffed out in anger. Bill had just told him that he needed to try extra hard with Richie tonight.

Bill looked at Eddie skeptically, “Are you suh-sure you are flirting? Because I fuh-feel like you have no idea how to fuh-fuh-flirt.”

“Fuck you Denbrough. Have you seen you flirt with Bev? You suck too.” Eddie pointed at him accusingly.

Bill shrugged, “I don’t have to be good at it. We have been t-together forever, she knows I am shit at it.” He smiled sneakily.

“What do you expect me to do? Jump his bones?” Eddie grabbed a hard cider and started chugging it.

“You think he would complain?” Bill laughed. “Just k-k-kiss him at midnight.”

“He doesn’t like me like that.” Eddie said dejectedly. “Trust me. It is all a game to him. Mess with me as much as possible. At this point, I bet he knows I like him and is having fun making me fall harder for him. The asshole.”

Bill shook his head, “You are an idiot. Oh l-look! It’s the other idiot.”

Eddie turned around, his heart already beating. When he saw Richie stroll in with Beverly, his stomach clenched and his breathing picked up. Eddie prided himself on keeping it cool when Richie was around, considering he had been in love with him forever. However, something had changed between them in only a week since their big fight. The night they made up, they spent it talking in his bed until 7:00 AM.

He smiled to himself thinking about what happened:

Eddie could not believe the position he had woken up in. Richie’s arm slung around his waist, his legs practically on top of him, the two of them spooning like they wake up every morning cuddling. Richie was already awake texting with his other hand. Eddie turned his face smiling softly at Richie. Their lips were centimeters apart from each other. He considered cutting his losses and closing the gap, but instead, he said, “Morning Rich, I seem to be trapped under you and I need to pee so fucking bad.”

Richie laughed and untangled himself from Eddie. He walked toward the bathroom but not before looking back to see Richie unashamedly checking him out. He coughed and glanced back at his phone then let out a chuckle.

“Looking at a stupid video?” Eddie called before closing the bathroom door.

“Nope, I posted something on Instagram that you will have to look at!” Richie shouted from the other side.

When Eddie came back out, his breath was minty from brushing his teeth. He did not want to assume anything but maybe he could get Richie to kiss him before he had to meet his mom for Christmas dinner at his aunt’s house.

“What time do you need to get going?” Richie asked. He was sitting on the bed and had thrown on his David Bowie shirt. David Bowie was the latest musician Richie was obsessed with. Two weeks ago he played Heroes on repeat for a week. He was still wearing his boxers which was making Eddie flustered.

Eddie looked at his watch. “Shit, in like 30 mins. I guess I am not showering. Mom will be pissed at me.”

“You could just call and tell her you are still not feeling good.” Richie suggested wiggling his eyebrows.

Eddie rolled his eyes. He walked around his room grabbing his nice clothes and shoes to put in his backpack. “But I was never actually sick, I told you that last night.”

“Yeah, you were just avoiding me and everyone.” Richie said sadly.

Eddie pierced his lips and looked at Richie’s bleak expression. He put down his backpack and walked over to stand in front of him. He liked staring down at Richie for once, not in a power-hungry way, he just noticed more of his vulnerability from here. It made him curious, as the shorter friend in the group, if he looked weak when all his friends talked down to him. He hoped not, the thought made him anxious.

He could not stop himself from pushing a stray curl out of Richie’s face. Richie gulped audibly and his cheeks tinted pink in the sweetest way. Eddie prayed he was reading the signs correctly.

“I was confused but we are friends again and that’s all that matters.” Eddie placed his hand on Richie’s shoulder. Richie put his over Eddie’s and their touch was electrifying. They stared at their hands then at each other, Eddie began to lean forward making the decision that he was going to go for it. Richie’s eyes widened and he leaned in eagerly.

Just as they were about to kiss, Eddie’s phone alarm went off. Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody breaking the trance they were in as they pulled away from each other quickly. He never expected Whitney to betray him in this way and he would be changing that alarm the second he could.

He grabbed his phone to turn off the alarm then noticed there were 25 missed text messages in their Losers Club group chat, 5 texts from Bill, and a missed call from his mom.

“Jesus, what are you all talking about in the chat?” Eddie chuckled at their probable enthusiasm that Richie and Eddie were friends again.

“Wishing each other a Merry Christmas,” Richie said slyly. “And they are happy we made up.”

“I missed talking to everyone,” Eddie said as he unlocked his phone. He looked at the Bill texts first which said:

Big Bill: what happened last night

Big Bill: Oh my fucking god wake up

Big Bill: eddieeeee

Big Bill: did you tell each other how you feel

Big Bill: holy crap that photo is so cute

Eddie stared at Bill’s texts in utter confusion then looked up at Richie, “What the fuck did you do?”

“Well…”

Eddie opened the texts to see:

Trashmouth: MERRY CHRISTMAS BITCHES!

Trashmouth: Eds and I made up.

Bev: proof or it didn’t happen.

Bev: merry christmas kids

Trashmouth: *photo of Richie cuddling a sleeping Eddie* I am putting this on instagram.

Bev: SCREAMING!!! Are you finally lovers?!

“RICHIE! THAT IS SO FUCKING EMBARRASSING!” Eddie yelled. “DID YOU ACTUALLY PUT IT ON INSTAGRAM?!”

Richie was typing on his phone and then just started laughing hysterically laying back on the bed. “We have 6,000 likes on insta.” Richie wheezed.

Eddie let out a guttural scream, “I am going to fucking kill you!” Richie screeched as Eddie launched himself on top of him. He took Richie’s phone and threw it on the ground so he could jab punches everywhere he could hit. This did not stop the laughter bubbling from Richie. He was not even defending himself clearly unphased.

Eddie got up and pulled Richie out of the bed. He was huffing and yelling incoherently about Richie needing to ‘get the fuck out’. He grabbed Richie’s pants and phone, shoving them into his hands and marching him out of the house. Eddie was pushing him so hard he almost stumbled down the stairs multiple times, laughing the whole way. He pushed him out the door and looked it.

“See you for our date when you get back, Eds!” Richie laughed from the outside.

Eddie walked back up to his room opened their chat to write: Merry Christmas my friends. I was busy taking out the trash.

As Eddie watched Richie make a beeline to him tonight, looking gorgeous as usual, he wanted to kiss him with all his heart. Except their friendship was so vital to his life, he knew they could never come back from kissing. If they went for it, they had to go all in or stop being around each other entirely. The later terrified him so much he glanced down at the alcoholic drink in his hand and chugged that down like the first. He would be getting drunk quick for sure.

“Are we doing shots tonight?” Richie asked when he stepped in front of Eddie. He hesitated for a moment then wrapped his arms around Eddie in a hug. Eddie returned the hug snaking his arms around his waist, breathing in Richie’s cologne and cigarette scent.

“Absolutely!” Eddie said into his chest.

The losers had a great New Years Eve talking about their busy year of applying to colleges and the stupid things they had done together. They took a photo clinking their champagne glasses at midnight. Richie and Eddie wanted to kiss each other but with so many people around, it was impossible. Even though it was all their best friends, they were too nervous.

“Richie and Eddie, can you go into my garage and g-grab m-more ice from the other fuh-freezer?” Bill asked nonchalantly.

“Yeah!” Beverly said at his side. “Lots of ice! Thank you!”

“Sure.” Eddie replied. He got up from the couch and Richie walked behind him. When they got into the garage and checked the freezer it was empty.

“What the hell?” Richie asked looking at Eddie to explain.

“That’s weird.” Eddie closed the freezer then walked over to the garage door but it was locked. He banged on the door but there was no answer.

Richie reached from behind to try but failed, “How are we locked out? Someone would have had to…”

“Lock the door on the other side. Yeah. Beverly and Bill planned this.” Eddie said in exasperation.

“Bastards.” Richie muttered. He turned around and sat on the front of Bill’s car.

“Bill’s going to be pissed if we leave a dent.” Eddie pointed out.

“He locked you in a garage with me on New Years.” Richie smirked.

“True. Fuck Denbrough.” Eddie hoisted himself next to Richie.

Richie immediately leaned the side of his face on top of Eddie’s head and sighed. They took out their phones to individually text insulting things to Beverly and Bill for locking them up.

Eddie tried to stay relaxed but it was proving impossible with Richie leaning into him like this. He needed to ground himself in some way, force himself to believe this was real, so he put his cell away and he took Richie’s hand firmly in his own.

They stayed like that for a little bit, enjoying each other’s company. Then Richie kissed the top of his head and Eddie shuddered involuntarily.

“When we were counting down to midnight, I wanted to kiss you so bad.” Richie admitted. Eddie closed his eyes and removed his head from under Richie’s.

“I can’t do this.” Eddie could feel his eyes stinging from potential tears. “We can’t do this.” Eddie tried to pull his hand away but Richie held on tighter.

“Please, Eds. Just talk to me. We can’t do what?” Richie’s face was extremely close with his defenses completely down.

Eddie’s eyes met Richie’s golden brown ones then flickered to lips. “We can’t kiss. Everything will change.” Even as he heard himself say this, his free hand went up to caress Richie’s cheek. A courage flowing through him that he did not realize he possessed.

“Does change have to be a bad thing?” Richie brought his forehead to meet Eddie’s, his lips parting in a distracting way.

“I guess not.” Eddie whispered in an unsure tone.

Their breaths were intermingling. Slowly they brought their mouths together, lightly brushing against each other. It was already too much for Eddie but he did not stop Richie or himself as they molded their lips together.

The kiss was everything Eddie wanted and more. He always assumed there would be fireworks, as they say, happens. For him, it was like that first real breath after almost drowning. There was rushing in his ears as if water was truly filling them.

Richie placed his hand on Eddie’s chest. Eddie knew he could feel the rapid beat of his heart, taste the sweetness of hard cider still on his mouth. Eddie wound his hands into Richie’s hair, something he had wanted to do since they first met.

Richie’s mouth moved against him, hot and restless. Just the way you would describe Richie. They deepened the kiss, parting their lips. Their tongues touching and exploring, all insecure thoughts flying out of their minds.

Richie’s hands went to Eddie’s legs and pulled them into his lap. Eddie gasped as their clothed chests touched and he smiled. Eddie clawed at his back to bring them closer. Richie was gripping the back of Eddie’s shirt for dear life.

Richie was more grown-up than Eddie had let himself realize, though every kiss was burning away his memories of the boy he had been. They both were no longer children as they let all their feelings be thrown into this moment.

They pulled away to breathe, Eddie kept his eyes closed but could feel Richie looking at him. When he finally opened his eyes, Richie’s eyes were pouring into him with so much desire he almost passed out.

“Happy fucking New Year to me.” Richie smirked.

“I think you mean to me.” Eddie brought their lips together for a gentle kiss. “We should try to get back to the party.”

Richie tightened his hold around Eddie, “But this is a way better party.”

Eddie grinned but removed Richie’s hands from his body, “They will suspect something and I am not ready for any of those kinds of questions.”

They readjusted their outfits and smoothed down their hair. Eddie found the spare garage key and went to unlock the door.

“Wait,” Richie stopped him and kissed his cheek quickly, taking Eddie’s breathe away once more. “Ok, now let’s go.”

@sammy8675309 @dandeliontozier @reddie-brasil @takemetothetide @ohheydatsme @slashpalooza @richietoaster @girlgh0sts @reddieforanything @edsbrak @loneredballoon @beepbeeprichiellc

#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #beverly marsh #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #stanley uris #reddie #it 2017 #it fandom #it fanfiction #gay #kissing #i am a loser #the losers club #Shannon writes

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plaidstiel-wormstache · 6 years

Text

Above the Northern Lights

Christmas Challenge: request by @grace-for-sale with Cass and the song Above the Northern Lights by Mannheim Steamroller Listen to this first, as it’s more of a feeling I got that inspired the below... AN: the biggest thank you goes to the best beta a writer could ask for - @whispersandwhiskerburn. She wrote half of this, giving it an added sense of magic. Thank you my wonder woman!

Castiel had always watched earth with great interest. The angel watched each creature, but one more so than others. The one that dominated the planet, sprawled across its surface, claiming everything as its own. Humans intrigued Castiel. Not only because it was his Father’s command to watch over the two-legged creatures, to shepherd and care for them, but because he was fascinated by them. By their rituals and short lives. How quickly they formed emotional attachments, and how quickly those bonds could be broken. But in all his observation, there was one particular time and series of traditions drew his fascination more than others.

Each culture, each religion, they all had one common theme: love. A celebration of sorts that brought them all together. Towards the end of each human year, everyone seemed to shift into a certain way of thinking. They thought about the ones they loved, the things they held dear.

Soon Winter Solstice began - a festival of hope and determination. A celebration of life, the bringing together of communities; villages, clans, groups. They came together in the coldest and darkest times of the year and got through it together. Showing what humanity was truly capable if it worked together. Then Christmas was created - a holiday to celebrate God, though it quickly grew larger than that. Sure people would attend church, some would pray, some would create lists of tomorrow’s feasts, some would even fall asleep. But everyone seemed to have their spirits lifted.

And soon The Angel’s own thoughts lifted, He began to look forward to these celebrations. There was Christmas and Hanukkah, Bodhi Day and Eid al-Adha, The Winter Solstice and The Day of the Return of the Wandering Goddess. Saturnalia, Yule, Kwanzaa and Shade-Yulda, Omisoka and Diwali. So many celebrations, so much Happiness. How could the people of earth not see the shared experience and accept each other. There was so much colour and creation and joy! He especially liked the lights. The glittering and twinkling of all different colours. What wasn’t to love?

So when Castiel found himself grace-less and stranded as a human, he turned to a time that seemed, from above, to make everyone happy. End of year Holidays. He started to put together a list of what he wanted to experience while on earth, things he hadn’t been able to do while leading an Angelic garrison. Mecca for Eid al-Adha, watching as families and friends came together in prayer, sharing meat; a third to the poor, a third to friends and finally keeping the remains for themselves. New Delhi for the third day of Diwali, all the candles that were lit in so many homes across many countries, not to mention the fireworks that could be seen from heaven. A small street in Craigmore, Australia. Every house on the street came together, no matter their differences and arguments throughout the year; combining their lights, creating one long scene. And then finally, seeing the Aurora Borealis from below. Looking up into a black sky and seeing the bright colors of spirits, temporarily caught and floating just above the surface of the earth, flying close to those they were told to watch over.

Alas, the Angel never experienced these miracles, these small human feats. Instead, he stayed close to his new brothers, his new family. He took his father’s word as the only direction he needed, protecting human life in whatever way he could.

Castiel had died many times.

He supposed it had something to do with his choice of the Winchesters and humanity, but the fact remained that he had been banished countless times, assumed many different forms, fought in countless angelic battles, and died more than probably any other Angel in creation.

Most of the time, he didn’t remember what happened when he wasn’t inhabiting an earthly vessel or in Heaven. In fact, he had discovered that there were many times he’d had his memory rewritten by Heaven’s forces, so who knew how many different times he’d been recreated.

But this time was different.

After being cast out of the Empty, he drifted through time and space, nebulous, lost, unaware of what was happening around him. He needed to get back to Earth, back to the Winchesters, but he didn’t know how.

The first moment he had any type of realization of self after the blankness of the Void was a tingling of beauty, of magic in the air. He found himself awake, not in his vessel, but in his Angelic form-- a multidimensional wavelength of song, power, and light. And he knew his location instinctually, a place that was home to many spiritual beings. The Northern Lights. He had finally made it there, when he hadn’t actually meant to arrive… and it was just as beautiful as he’d always hoped.

The energy produced by so many beings coexisting let off colors visible even to the poor human eyes, but to Castiel-- he was awash in a kaleidoscope of dreams and images, hopes and faith, all being poured into the celestial beings that existed in this one section of time and space.

It was Christmas, and the combined beliefs and emotions of so many mortals aimed at so many religions buoyed him up on wings made of magic and dreams, and Castiel was relieved to feel safe, to begin his healing.

Here in this moment, above the Northern Lights on Christmas night, he would discover himself again. He would heal and find his old form. And, soon, he’d find his way through time and space to the Winchesters.

But for now, he would dance across the sky in the endless light and be thankful to have escaped the dark one more time.

Tagging:

@akshi8278 @dont-trust-humanity @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @redlipstickandplaid @lipstickandwhiskey @jensen-jarpad @avasmommy224 @munlis @arryn-nyxx @autopistaaningunaparte @babypieandwhiskey @beckawinchester @blacktithe7 @bringmesomepie56 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @charliebradbury1104 @chvalkenberg95 @clairese1980 @dancingalone21 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @fandoms-are-the-best-escape @frenchybell @gabby913 @green-love-red-fantasyhearts @hasta-impalasta @i-like-your-assbutt-dean @ilostmyshoe-79 @impala-dreamer @impalaimagining @iwriteaboutdean @jalove-wecallhimdean @kazchester-fanfiction @kristaparadowski @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @lucifer-in-leather @lucis-unicorn @melonberri @manawhaat @mogaruke @mrswhozeewhatsis @nichelle-my-belle @notnaturalanahi @oriona75 @ruprecht0420 @sdavid09 @sherloki-moriartea @thegreatficmaster @waywardjoy @wheresthekillswitch @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @wi-deangirl77 @wideawakeandwriting @you-know-whodoesthat-crazypeople @maddieburcham1 @captainemwinchester @samwinjarpad @kittenofdoomage @room-with-a-cat @atc74 @katymacsupernatural @emoryhemsworth @sandlee44

#christmas challenge #holiday season #castiel #spnfanficpond #supernatural #northern lights #spn fanfiction

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cyrokinetic-iceman · 7 years

Note

"You have been bitten by the random encouragement bug, because the person who sent this thinks you are a beautiful person and a fabulous roleplayer! Pass it on to ten beautiful, fabulous people YOU know and let them know how wonderful they are!"((missbigbadwolfie))

Awe, thank you soooo much @missbigbadwolfie 💗 💗 💗 You’re such a wonderful blog as well. 💗 (although in a means to shove as many wonderful blogs into this, you aren’t going to be listed in the ten.) Go follow this blog if you don’t!

Alright folks, buckle up because I’m gonna tag these blogs and just list a few short reasons why I love them. This list is in no particular order so please don’t think that!

@quiet-loudmouth 💗 💗

Caden is a very well developed – and still developing (welly I might add) – OC.

The mun is an amazing writer and I love her style.

She is so fucking sweet it gives me cavities every time we talk. 💗

We can talk for hours about stupid little headcanons and potential threads, and even if we never do them, I love each and every one that is mentioned. 💗

Very realistic character with relatable aspects but also aspects that make you want to know him better because you can’t relate.

@survival-cfthe-fittest / @kidcataclysm 💗

Such an amazingly written Apoc muse that really tests your character and how you play them

Morgan is a precious babe and I will shower him in love butalsoalotofangst

The mun is simply one of the sweetest people I’ve ever gotten to talk to. She’s so nice 💗

Her writing style is so profound and she seems to have an icon for every single response I totally commend her dedication to using them because God knows I could never use an icon on all of my replies. Hell I’ve used like five icons in my life.

Morgan is such a huge Yu-Gi-Oh nerd and I hate love it. It’s a huge part of his character and I feel like it couldn’t be any other way. Keep up with the nerd.

@mutantleaderinthemaking (nsfw account @actuallybiclops)

The first person I started roleplaying with. They really helped me get this account going. I’m so thankful for them. They are a wonderful person. 💗

I love their Scott portrayal so much. Just… just go follow them and shower their Scott in love he needs it. 💗

We talk forever about ScottBobby headcanons – even though I’m hardly on anymore and taking 1847372 years to respond TT_TT – and I love all of them.

They send me little things that are about Bobby or ScottBobby and I love it so much. 💗

They’re really friendly and always open to new threads.

@prodreamer356

They’re such a sweet person and I love talking to them. 💗

They have such cute Scott headcanons and I want to listen to them all

They’re a new Scott roleplay blog and they are trying their hardest and I love them 💗

They found me on ao3.org and actually helped motivated me to keep writing my prompts and even though I’m falling so far behind on the ones they’ve geiven me and I wrote a really shitty one for the one, they’re so kind and understanding and asdadfj 💗

They’re actually just really sweet like I cannot stress to you enough how nice and supportive and encouraging they are 💗

@wildtsukai

A fantastic Toad blog, literally so spot on with his characterization that I openly wept when reading one of their threads

They have so many amazing headcanons for all of their Toads and I love them all 💗 eventheonesthathurt

Made me fall in love with Toad even though I used to have literally no opinion on him other than he was kinda gross and that I felt bad for him.

Literally made me ship Kurt/Todd without even speaking a word to me.

They’re really nice and friendly and even if you don’t roleplay with them I suggest at least talking to them and getting to know them 💗

@i-am-the-bamf / @deadpoolmarverlousanna

Just like wildtsukai made me ship Kurt/Todd without even speaking a word to me.

They’re really friendly and so helpful and asdsfk I’m super thankful for them tbh 💗

Without them, this blog wouldn’t exist, because they not only supported me in making this blog, they were one of the first people to follow me and they gave me some really sound advice on setting it up and getting into roleplaying here on tumblr.

They are such an amazing Kurt like seriously, wow, you’d think they had a hand in creating him they’re so spot on. 💗

I can’t think of anything really else to say because if I did I would have to spend hours choosing what to say so I’m just going to leave it off with every time I thinkn of the “I am not a boogie” comic panel I also think of them so like, does that explain anything?????

@apocalypta-secundus / @timid-hotheaded-mutant (and the mun of a few other blogs)

They’re super sweet and really friendly. 💗

Such cute OCs that are just trying their best to get along in this world 💗

Will literally die if you draw fanart for them 💗

But no, seriously, they are super nice and really friendly and I love talking to them.

Cavities 💗

@valiaxt / @spoopiespoopers

So maybe I’m really biased because this is a really close friend of mine irl buuuuuut, they’re fantastic 💗

The first listed blog is her roleplay blog, which is actually not an x-men or marvel blog but this never said they had to be x-men roleplay blogs or even roleplay blogs in general so fight me. It’s an A++++ Eren Jaeger blog from Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin and if you’re into that I highly recommend checking it out. She’s super well-written and just A+++. The second one is her rl blog and she’s a literal meme so like – have fun? Tread carefully? Idk what to say about it but like ? ?? ?

I bet she’s awake right now but she should fucking be sleeping because she has school tomorrow unless the weather suddenly decides to change like it always does back home and like get some rest my kouhai you need it

She should really study her French but guess what she doesn’t do? ??? ? ?

I love her and I want all of you to love her and like maybe it’s just because I’m really fucking gay but wow she’s really pretty go validate her okay? 💗 💗

@observatorydream

I’m glad I’m limiting myself to only five points on why I love these blogs. So this is one of my closest friends from back home.

Her tumblr doesn’t have much, because she’s just started it and she’s actually kind of really confused by tumblr – but weren’t we all – so you can also follow her on her instagram

She’s into some really cool stuff and she loves plants and vintage clothing and listens to records and 💗

She’s an amazing artist, like, please go check out her stuff. She’s so good. She has an etsy but I don’t know what her account is but if you see anything you like she sells her stuff for super good prices and you should totally commission her someday 💗

I could go on for hours about how amazing she is but I really just don’t have enough words to do that, but let me express that when we first met she thought I was in trouble because I was sitting in the back of the class – because there were no other desks – so she came back and asked me if I was okay and if I wanted her to sit with me and if that doesn’t explain how sweet she is, go eat an entire bag of sugar and then maybe you’ll understand half of how sweet she is. Like, cavities, guys. c a v i t i e s 💗

@16catlogurt

So I don’t really ship logurt (they’re more a brotp for me) but I love all the art this blog makes 💗

Their style is super cute 💗

Kurt Wagner 💗

Logan 💗

How can you not love it?

and since I had to cut myself off at 10, I’m just going to throw in a bunch of blogs I love without reason and it’s up to you to decide whether or not you follow them. @godsperfectidiiot @thequeensman @haptophobia @scottbobbyheadcanons @mutant-revolutionary @mutantmasterofmagnetism @therealscottsummers @transmanscottsummers @notjustpainandangcr @verpissdiiich @fuckscottsummers @givepetermaximoffaboyfriend @hughxjackman @andreyawinchester(whom i cannot tag but this is my fiancee i love her)

I’m soooo sorry if you didn’t make it on this list I have 53 followers and I follow 158 blogs so like theres at least 105 blogs from me to choose from and to list! Ugggghhhh I love you all 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

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