@cluelessnutter it’s not precisely what you suggested, but it’s along the same lines so I hope you like it and thank you for the request!
Spoiler-free, 10+, romantic fluff :) I used Cheritz’s naming convention of not-quite-the-brand-name, see if you can tell what games I’m referring to, haha ;)
get sick if you eat the dough before I’ve baked it!”
Seven guiltily removes his hand
from the bowl and licks the dough off his fingers. “It’s really good, though~”
he says, smiling. You move the bowl farther away and motion with your fingers
for him to back up.
“You’ll ruin your appetite if you keep eating,” you say. “And after I’ve put all this work into the meal, too!”
Yoosung returns from the living
room and gives Seven his best withering glare. It’s not terribly effective. “Are
you bothering her?” he asks.
Seven grins and holds up his hands
in mock surrender, then notices there’s still a bit of cookie dough on his
finger and licks it off. “Nope~” he says.
Hi, that you're doing requests sounds awesome. I love your art so much. Can I request Giorno and Mista maybe(not as a ship though)? I don't have anything in mind regarding poses or such, so do whatever you like if you decide to draw them. Thank you so much in advance! :-)
Request for @allsketchy Hey! Thanks for requesting my precious son Gio and the Mista boy <3 Hope it looks fine like this.
Hey so my mom went through my phone "secretly"(even though it's actually very obvious) and now I'm really scared. If it's not too much trouble could you write a small fic where Laurens keeps a diary or something and he finds out his dad read it?Thank
Hey bby! <333 I’m so sorry your mom invaded your privacy like that. That’s such an awful feeling, I know. I sure can write you a lil something! I hope this helps and that you’re doing okay, kiddo <333 A huge thanks to @ciceroniantrash for suggesting that John’s journal include drawings and for being the best Suffering Friend ™ a girl could ask for <333
John Laurens started keeping a diary the day of his mother’s funeral. After the service and burial, when friends and family were milling about back at the house, John’s maternal grandmother found him hiding away in his room upstairs, flipping through an old photo album of him and his parents when he was an infant.
“My sweet boy,” his grandmother said. She smoothed back his curls, still short in his youth, and kissed his forehead. “I have something for you.”
John looked up from the photos. He was still young enough to be enticed by the possibility of a present. His grandmother smiled at him.
“It’s a journal, but not just any journal.” She pulled it out from her purse and he eagerly flipped it open. “You see, they’re no lines. Journals don’t have to be just words, John, they can be images.” She tapped the album still open on his lap. “And I know you like to draw.”
John had filled that journal from his grandmother years ago. He’d filled five since then, in fact, roughly one a year. And now, at sixteen, he found he needed his journal more than ever. When his mother died, he could talk about it. People knew he was sad. They understood on some level what he was going through. But this? This… feeling? His journal was the only one he could confide in.
He opened up his current journal to a blank page.
Today Alexander did the cutest ever. We were sitting in the cafeteria when he decided to use the straw from his drink then steal the one from mine and stick them under his upper lip. When he grinned at me, I lost it. Laf and Herc rolled their eyes, but I could tell they were amused.
I wanted him to put my straw back so badly. How weird is that? How fucked up am I? But lunch ended and so did my fucked up dream.
He doodled Alex with the straws in his mouth from a few different angles. He was putting the finishing touches on the last one when there was a knock on his door.
He slammed his journal shut and swiveled around in his chair. The thing about knocks at the Laurens’ household was that they were never a question. They were a courtesy. His father barged in one second later.
“John, are you doing homework?” he asked gruffly. He eyed his son’s desk, squinting at the blue notebook atop a pile of papers. “You were doodling again, were you? We talked about this, John. It was good when you were a kid and your mother… passed. But now you’re a man. Men don’t handle their feelings with doodles.”
John nodded. He knew how this went. Just play along and it’ll all be fine.
“Anyway, I came up here to let you know that you need to pick Mary Eleanor up from theatre practice or whatever the hell she does.”
“When does she get out from rehearsal?” John asked.
His father waved his hand dismissively. “I think five. I don’t know. The driver has always gotten her.”
John wanted to be angry, but he just sighed. He wasn’t even going to ask why the driver couldn’t get her today. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Mary Eleanor knew someone in the family cared about her.
“Okay, I’ll leave now,” John said.
His father nodded and left the room without another word or glance. John sank back down in his chair and put his head in his hands. It was going to be a long evening. He could feel it already.
“And that’s when I said, ‘Paul, get that curtain off of you! This isn’t The Sound of Music!” Mary Eleanor chattered as she and John walked into the house.
John shook his head, his face sore from all the smiling he’d been doing around his sister for the past half hour. At first the smile had been for show, but that never lasted long around Mary Eleanor. She had an uncanny ability to make John laugh, no matter how he was feeling.
“Niños, hice su cena. Su padre tomó su cena en su oficina.” The cook was bustling past John and his sister, clearly in a hurry. John had seen this kind of hustle before. It meant his father was in a sour mood.
“Gracias, Señora Marquez,” John replied.
John turned to Mary Eleanor. “Lava tus manos,” he said. She scampered off to clean up.
The dinner was already served, the table set. Normally it was left under a dome on the counter. His breath hitched. His father was clearly in a really bad mood.
Mary Eleanor bounded into the dining room and took her seat. John didn’t get to do the same.
“John? John!” his father hollered from his office. “Get the hell in my office this instance!”
Mary Eleanor looked up at her brother with wide eyes. He mustered up a smile for her before walking to his certain doom. As soon as he found himself on the threshold of his father’s office, he saw it.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
His father looked up at him, no, glared, up at him. John had never seen a true glare before that moment. He swore his father’s eyes were glowing red, though he knew that part was just in his imagination.
“Do you care to explain this abomination to me?” His father growled. He grabbed the journal from his desk and flipped it open. “‘Alexander is the best person I know. The way his hair curls at the top of his head in the humidity, those tiny little curls like a halo, and his laugh, his genuine laugh, and his energy, his ability to write… I admire him. I love him. There, I said it. I love Alexander Hamilton.’”
When his father looked up from the journal, his face was bright red. “Explain,” he demanded.
“It seems like you already know.” John prayed the fear he was feeling didn’t show in his voice.
“If this is true, you’ll find yourself in a position you won’t like one bit, son.” Henry Laurens stood up and walked up to his son. He shoved the journal into John’s chest, hard. “So before you answer me, I suggest you take the evening to think it over.”
John saw his life flash before his eyes. His mother, Mary Eleanor, his father before politics became his life following the death of his wife… And he saw his future. Alexander. Alexander. Alexander.
“Dad,” John stepped forward and looked directly into his father’s eyes. “I’m gay.”
His father’s eyes widened in shock. “I told you to think this over, John!” he shouted.
“I don’t need to,” John said, his voice growing stronger with every word. “I know who I am. And if you have a problem with that––”
“Of course I have a problem with that! I thought I raised you right. I didn’t think I raised you to be a…” he looked John up and down, as if gay was oozing off of him now. “A disgrace.”
John simply nodded. “Fine. I’ll leave for the night. I’ll see you after school tomorrow.” John left his father’s office without another word and quickly ran up the stairs to grab his school books and a change of clothes.
Mary Eleanor wordlessly appeared in his doorway. “John? What happened?” Her voice was trembling.
“Dad and I just had a fight, Ellie. It’s okay.” He swung his backpack over his shoulder and gave her a hug.
“Where’re you going?”
“Alexander’s. I’ll be back after school tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she whispered, looking down at the floor.
“Hey, if you need me, call, okay?”
She nodded. John kissed the crown of her head.
He ran out of the house, ran away from his father who was screaming for him to get back in the house this instance or else! He called Alex on the way. He picked up on the third ring.
“J-Law, what’s crackin?”
John rolled his eyes. “Never call me that again.”
“Okay, I’ll cross that off the John Laurens Nickname List then.”
“Um, hey, Alex?”
“Um, hey, yeah?”
“Can I stay the night with you?”
“John, of course. Is everything okay?”
John thought over how to answer that for a moment. “I don’t know.”
“Get over here and we’ll talk,” Alex said.
“Yeah,” John said, a smile spreading across his face. “Thanks, Alex.”
“John,” the other boy said, tone serious. “You’re the closest friend I got. I’d do anything for you.”
“Thank you, Alex, I’ll see you soon.” John hung up the phone and sucked in a deep breath before whispering to the air. “Oh, and Alex? I’m in love with you.” He took off in a sprint toward Alex’s, everything he’d never told the other boy propelling him forward.
He didn’t know how Alex would react to his confession, or what his dad would say come the next day. But he knew one thing. He was finally being true to himself, and that was something they could never take away.
Hello guys, I love this blog so much. My birthday is on Oct 1st. I would like a drabble that starts with everlark in love with each other, but get separated due to consequences. They are forced to try different relationships after recovering from heartbreak. And a few years later, everlark gets reunited and are back forever. Basically i would like an separation-angst-reunited drabble. Thank you!
Happy birthday! Your ask was a tall order for drabble size, but we think we pulled it off! We hope you like it and that you have an awesome day! - The Mods at EBD.
Katniss jumped out of her seat with everyone else when her favorite team scored a touchdown, even though she didn’t feel much like celebrating. She was just going through the motions ever since her breakup with Peeta, her boyfriend of two years. It hurt, worse than Katniss could have ever imagined, but she guessed it was better this way than to get engaged, and eventually marry before all of the uncertainties came out.
this is the best place to say this, I really hope we can get a chance to see nygmobblepot do cute things, like even a hug would be great, or ed or oswald grabbing the others hand with a silly excuse like oswald did with jim one time, to see them laugh together or just stare at each other and get that intensity between them. Though I really love nygmobblepot, the chances of them actually becoming romantically canon is really low because of butthurt fans, but there is always hope. Love your blog!
Hi! Yees I want everything Nygmobblepot! From the fluff to the angst. We know we will get loads of stuff this season so the future seems bright! And yes to all the cute things you suggested, bring it on aaah.
Yeah this heternormative please hetero-butthurt-white-guys media is getting on my fkn nerves. And I’ve been constantly let down with my ships even if there is endless of teasing and baiting :( I REALLY hope Gotham won’t be as shitty with that. The way they force hetero relationships is ridiculous. How little it takes for heteros to fall in love and kiss, while Nygmobblepot has shown 100 times more affection things they’ve done for each other than any of the hetero couples!! But I mean I love build up, I hope this IS a build up! And Cory & Robin feels like they obviously wouldn’t wanna be a part of queerbaiting since they are so supportive of Nygmobblepot and are lgbt themselves.
First of all: i fUcKinG l0vE yoUr bL0g aNd EvRytHinG ! <3 and second: could you make a Yoongi text, where you tell him, that your exboyfriend (that treated you like shit) starts texting you again, telling you he wants you back ? And he kinda gets angry and overprotective, even though you won't ever consider leaving him for that douchebag (well actually leaving him at all) thank you so much !
First of all: asDfghJkL you are toO SWEET TO ME ANON. THANK YOU!! 💕 and second: YES!!! I am in LOVE with this idea! Protective yoongs makes me *heart eyes emoji* I’m glad we are on the same wave length here. I hope you like it!!! I was smiling like a dummy while making it hehe ☺️ Thank you for requesting lovey! ❤️
WOW! I just realized today I’ve had this blog for 1 year exactly!! I was thinking of doing something special but now I can’t come up with anything!! So I guess I’ll just write a big thank you.
Thank you to everyone who has started following me and who still is here! No matter if you’ve been here for this whole year or if you started following me today I appreciate every single one of you and I love you all so much!!!! <3 Ah, I can’t believe that it has already been a year!!!
So here’s a Dylan throwing kisses for you all!
I might be doing something special later, like a follow forever or something I don’t know. But it will be tomorrow though, hope it’s okay. I love you
I feel the need to make a birthday page since it’s the most important day in one’s life and I wanna wish all my mutuals a very warm birthday!! And and and, that’s why A BIRYTDAY PAGGGE!!!!!
So, I wanna say to all my mutuals that if you see this post pls like it to let me know that you saw it and pls reply your birthday in the post (even though I already asked you :p) i hope I will make it in my upcoming vacations!!
Everybody, I hope you all are doing well and enjlying your life!! Stay safe!!!*hugs you all*
can you write a short, cute, romantic granit xhaka imagine pls?:)))
i am so sorry but i SUCK at romantic imagines so much, i always get corny and pretentious and wannabe-poetic???? hope you like this one though 😂💙
(if you don’t, let me know and i’ll write you another one!!)
(also: am i the only one who thinks granit looks so much like stephen james?? even if they don’t look 100% alike? this is so weird tbh i always have stephen james’ face flashing before my eyes when i think of granit???)
It’s past midnight already when you hear Granit open the French doors that lead into your backyard, the grass swishing quietly underneath his shoes as he walks over to you. You’re lying on the ground, wearing an oversized T-shirt — which may or may not be one of Granit’s — and a pair of leggings. There is a cool breeze embracing your body, licking at your skin, but the ground is still warm from the day, keeping you comfortable.
“Hi,” you tell Granit while he sits down next to you. Your eyes flicker over to him for a second and jeez, he looks good like this — hair still damp from the shower he’d taken after training and face illuminated by the soft, pale light the stars and moon up in the sky cast down. You see the corners of his mouth being tugged upwards by a faint smile as he leans close to you to press his lips to yours gently. The moment he kisses you, your heart skips a beat. However, it’s a quick kiss, over way too soon.
“Hi,” he replies quietly, lying down next to you and holding his left arm out for you to rest your head on. You do, of course, and begin to run your fingertips over the muscles in his stomach repeatedly, feeling them ripple with every breath he takes.
“How was training?”
“Exhausting,” he sighs. “What have you been up to?”
You look up at the sky. “Went outside right after work and have been staring at the stars since.”
At that, Granit lets out something that might be a wheeze, but could also be a breathy laugh. Either way, you’re a little offended.
“Why are you laughing?”
He shrugs. “I’m not laughing. I’m just … Doesn’t that get boring?”
“No,” you give back. “The sky is beautiful today.”
Granit shifts, stretches, curls a strand of your hair around his index finger. Then, he looks up, too.
“See? There’s the Ursa Major.” You point up at the constellation, then move your hand to the right. “And there you can see the Ursa Minor! Isn’t that cool?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, voice soft, as he wraps his free arm around your hip to pull you closer, “It is.”
“Oh, and there! See the stars over there? That’s the Delphinus!”
You look at him. “What?”
With a roll of your eyes (and maybe a smile on your face), you avert your eyes from him again to focus back on the sky, trying to find more constellations to show your boyfriend. Even if he doesn’t seem all too enthusiastic about it.
When you spot another one after a few minutes, you point at it again, starting to tell Granit more about it while you continue to move your fingers over his stomach in tiny circles.
It takes you a while to hear him snoring into your ear quietly, or to realize that his body has become slack against yours.
Carefully, so you won’t wake him up, you sit up to study him. The curve of his nose, the prominent cheekbones, the chiseled jaw, the slow rise and fall of his chest with every breath he takes.
God, he’s beautiful. Not constellation-beautiful, though, because he doesn’t shine silver. No, he shines gold, he’s warm, he’s more. Galaxy-beautiful, maybe.
And perhaps it’s time for you to go to sleep, too.