enjoy the cuteness anyway

boyf riend headcanons for the soul

-It’s not uncommon at all for Michael to wake up and see Jeremy staring at him. Jeremy always gets super red but Michael grins and thinks it’s the most adorable thing in the world.

-Michael often calls Jeremy his everything. (More sappy nicknames for him include: pup/puppy, marshmallow, and his kasintahan.)

-Jeremy will call Michael his anchor. (Other nicknames include: honey, big guy/hunk, knockout, and Ibig.)

-Michael flirts with Jeremy in languages he cannot understand. Nonetheless, it never fails to fluster him. ((The whole time Michael is actually just telling Jeremy what he wants for lunch in Filipino.))

-One of the things they’re never sure about is who should walk on what side of the sidewalk (aka: the masculine one/man is supposed to walk on the side closest to the road). They end up flipping a coin to see who walks on which side (this happens every date).

-Jeremy is shy about affection all around but Michael is only hesitant at first. Michael is the kind of guy that always wants to be close. (A few examples include: pinkie fingers that are always locked together as they’re walking side by side, Michael always pulling Jeremy close to himself when they sit down, and Jeremy combing his fingers through Michael’s hair whenever they’re alone, which Michael fucking purrs at).

-As said before, they switch on a lot of things. Michael seems to like being the big spoon a majority of the time, but is a sucker for when he is curled up against Jeremy. They often try to make meals for each other, and (although Michael organizes it out a bit more,) at least once a month can’t help in buying the other male a gift.

-Michael is NOT a morning person. Whenever Jeremy sleeps over, he’s usually the first person to wake up. But no matter how deep of sleep Michael is in, the moment he feels Jeremy start to move, he will entangle his arms around him and hold him so tight that struggling is not an option, mumbling persuasively that it isn’t time to get up yet. Jeremy is never a big fan of this at first, but eventually sulks back against Michael and drifts off back to sleep feeling awfully comfy. (Michael falls back asleep with a satisfied smile, which Jeremy has caught before, though pretends not to notice.)

-One of their favorite dates is actually roller skating(?). Half for the skating, a bit for the food, and half for the arcades in the back of the place they go to. Michael tends to show off to Jeremy (and has to help him up from falling a LOT), but after lunch they go into the game room and at least an hour later emerge with handfuls of tickets. Every single time they try and save their tickets for one of the more expensive prizes, but end up spending them on glow in the dark trinkets and cool dice and small plushies. They have the usual diner date while they munch on nachos and snow cones, all the while trying to keep their balance (because every table is full and they are still in their skates).

-Jeremy is really good at calming Michael down when he needs it. He’ll rub his back or wrap an arm around him and pull him close. Michael never fails to lean into his touch and murmur a thanks. (This actually happens a few times a week, as sometimes just the stress of the day wears off on Michael, and he has to take a break to relax and calm down at the end of the day. He can do it alone, but Jeremy insists on being there for him.)

-On one of their dates they somehow ended up doing karaoke. Michael was very giddy and happy and with the help of Jeremy (and vice versa), got up in front of like twenty people and sang with Jeremy’s hand in his. Even though there were lots of distractions and he didn’t know all of the words, Jeremy was taken aback, because holy shit can Michael sing. Because of how excited and elated he was, there was lots of emotion behind Michael’s voice, and oh my god did Jeremy love it. He tried to compliment him afterwards, but he didn’t think Michael took it too seriously, as he simply squeezed his hand and kissed him in response.

(Yo my first actual “work” on this blog aha!! Hope you all enjoy! Feel free to drop off some requests, as requests are open now!! ヽ(‘ ∇‘ )ノ

home is wherever i’m with you

length: 1k

genre(s): fluff

triggers/warnings: none

a/n: thank you to @cherryonsimon​ for the beta and @amazingmsme​ for the prompt!!

baz has a thing for simon’s wings, especially when he’s having a bad day

I can tell Baz’s had a bad day the moment he enters the flat, slamming the door behind him and muttering about daft professors and fucking study groups and–for some reason–his father. Baz has bad days and then he has Bad Days, and I can tell today is the latter.  His face is pinched, his frown is deep, and I’m not shocked when he doesn’t stop to kiss me on his way in.

Baz doesn’t live with Penny and me, but he’s over here often enough that it feels like it sometimes. He’s even got his own key and drawer. His shampoo is next to mine in the shower. It’s not much different than when we were roommates at Watford, except it feels more domestic now, means something different. There we cohabitated because we had to, now we do it because we want to. It’s scary sometimes how okay I am with that.

Baz claims it’s just because Fiona is gone so much and he can’t be bothered to buy food, but I know better.

I also know better than to push him to admit things.

It took us a while to get to this point, if I’m honest. We still get into it, even now that we’re together. Some things never really change. He’s overdramatic, Baz is. And stubborn. And I suppose I can be a bit stubborn at times too, which isn’t very helpful when you’re having a row and neither side will back down.

But I’m always careful around him when he gets like this and I always know what he needs.

The first time it happened, we’d been on the couch watching Masterchef reruns. I’d been about to get up to get a snack because the show always makes me hungry, when I felt Baz’s fingers brushing my right wing. My first instinct was to pull it back until I noticed his expression. He looked peaceful as he stroked it and I found I didn’t mind the sensation all that much. Or having to give up my snack.

Actually, that’s a lie.  I pushed him away about 10 minutes later and got some crisps from the kitchen. He looked ready to throttle me until I handed him his own bag (salt & vinegar) and we resumed our earlier position.

It’s turned into a routine. Most days it’s just idle touches here and there, but on bad days, especially Bad Days, Baz likes to snuggle under them like a child. I don’t mind. I spent so long making him miserable, I’d do most anything to make him happy.

Fucking Snow is waiting by the door when I get home, looking like a kicked puppy when I shove my way past him to the bathroom. I strip down once I’m there and turn on the shower, hotter than it needs to be. I need to wash this day off of my skin, scald myself until it’s completely gone and I can forget about every little thing that went wrong.

I know he won’t try to talk to me about it. It’s one of the (many) things I love about Simon. He understands that sometimes it’s okay to just… not talk.

I can hear him bustling around the flat even through the bathroom door. He’s not exactly quiet, especially when he’s always bumping things with his wings or tripping over that damn tail.

I step under the spray and let the water run down my back. The slight burn feels good. Therapeutic. Grabbing my shampoo from the shelf where I’d left it the last time I was here, I start to wash up.

Occasionally I think I should stop pretending and just move in properly, but we really do need space from each other sometimes. Still, I’ve left so much over here. Like clothes. And shampoo. My shampoo that Simon used once, when his ran out, and I hated it. He smelled… wrong. Which is about a thousand times worse when you’ve got a vampiric supernose.

I finish up in the shower and put on a pair of Simon’s trackies. I briefly consider nicking a t-shirt as well, but the holes on the back always feel weird, like a draft right on your shoulder blades.

When I enter the lounge Simon’s waiting with a cup of tea and his wing open at his side. He’s put in the dvd for the first season of Downton Abbey, a major acquiescence on his part (although he does occasionally get into the storylines).  

I sit next to him and lean into his side. He rests his wing on my shoulder, effectively wrapping me up, and I exhale and reach for the cup. He’s made it just the way I like it, the way only he knows: with lots of sugar and light on the milk. The exact opposite of him. His own pale brown cup is sitting half-drunk on the coffee table, probably already cold. Simon has a habit of doing that.

“I like this.” I say and take a sip. It’s perfect.

“I know,” he replies, “you don’t exactly keep it a secret.”

It’s true. I’m a bit obsessed with Simon’s wings. Sue me. I’m always finding excuses to touch them, especially on days like this when nothing seems to be going quite right and all I want to do is curl up on the couch and hide from the world.

Once I’ve finished my tea, we rearrange ourselves on the couch so I’m almost in Simon’s lap and both of his wings are surrounding me. We lay like that until the first episode fades into the second and I realize that Simon’s fallen asleep behind me. I feel his warm breath against the back of my neck as he begins to snore softly. It’s comforting, this routine.

I suppose it’s not quite normal–normal, not Normal–to enjoy being cocooned by a pair of wings belonging to your boyfriend, but then again, nothing about our life is.

And that’s perfectly fine by me.

I feel like there might be this sort if unspoken agreement among the Kirkwall crew to always point out nearby cats if Anders is in the party

Hawke does it because they care about their friend/lover and know how much the little moments of freedom and happiness mean to him. They also know the stories, about Pounce, and Mr. Wiggums before him, that make the mage’s borderline unhealthy affinity for cats suddenly completely understandable. And if he looks completely fucking adorable while petting the animals with a big smile on his face, well, that’s just the icing on the cake

Varric does it because even though he believes there is absolutely nothing dignified about a grown man cooing at small, furry creatures that usually seem mostly disinterested in the attention, he knows how much stress the mage is under and wants nothing more than for him to just relax for once. And hey, Blondie deserves some moments where he can just enjoy the simple things in life and be as completely undignified as he pleases

Merrill not only likes pointing them out, but often joins the healer in his apparent endeavour to pet every cat in Thedas. She loves them too, even if she can’t afford one of her own, and petting them makes her happy. Not as happy as it makes Anders, but it’s always nice when she can see him smile for once instead of always being so sad, and it gives them something pleasant to talk about for a change

Fenris does it not because he actually cares at all, no, of course not, why the hell would he care about the mage’s happiness? It does tend to shut him up, though, trading the rants about mage rights for a string of increasingly strange and nonsensical endearments that are still somehow far less irritating. Or, at least, that’s the reason he always gives when questioned, vehemently denying any possibility of kindness as a motivation

Aveline gives a huff as she points out the nearest cat, looking very much the same as a parent of a child who has just spotted a particularly interesting object to play with and is now begging for permission to go do just that. She may not be his biggest fan, but this bizarre group of friends Hawke has put together is the closest thing to family she has now, and Aveline takes care of her own, difficult and irritating mages included

Isabela does it because he enjoys it, so why not? Sure, he could have far more interesting pursuits than petting small balls of fluff, but hell, if it makes him happy, he deserves it. The poor guy never gets a chance to really lighten up anymore. Besides, she can’t deny that some of those cats are damn cute, and sometimes she joins him and Merrill, sharing stories about the mousers she used to have on her ship

- you’re cute when you’re sleepy

a/n : i’m back for the third day in a row!! i once again felt like writing so have some archie andrews drabble. i really enjoyed writing this and have tried to make it as fluffy as possible. thank you for all the support so far, i honesty love writing and it makes me so happy to see people enjoying them! anyway note over, enjoy the cute fluffy archie andrews drabble because he’s an adorable bean who needs to be protected :’-)

word count : 889

{archie andrews x reader}

Originally posted by riverdalegifsdaily

You slung your bag onto the kitchen table as you returned home from your shift at Riverdale book shop. It was a small job that you had after school for a few hours to earn some extra cash but you enjoyed it. Barely anyone came in from school so most of the customers were of the older generation and appreciated the art of literature. The only person who came in from school, with the exception of Archie Andrews visiting his beloved girlfriend, was Jughead Jones. You and Jughead were friends. You always smiled at him whenever you caught each other around school and he would always make an effort to talk to you when you were both in the shop.

“I’m back mom!” you called only to be met with silence. You walked over to the fridge, a pale pink sticky note catching your eye. ‘Emergency business trip, be back tomorrow! love you xox.’  “Typical” you huffed, crumpling up the note and putting it in the bin. Your mother seemed to be constantly swarmed with her work so this sudden trip wasn’t much of a surprise to you. You grabbed a water from the fridge and headed upstairs with your bag, throwing it on the floor and jumping onto your bed. You picked up your phone and started to scroll through your twitter feed when a text popped up.

archiekins : come over

 y/n : but i’m tiredddddd :(

archiekins : it’s literally down the street 

y/n : get your lazy ass up and walk it yourself then :’-)

You let out a giggle at your sass. A few seconds later you heard a knock at the door. You quickly plugged your phone and ran downstairs to answer the door. You pulled it open to reveal your boyfriend, a cheeky smile on his lips. You stepped out the way to let him in and shut the door behind him. “Hey-“ you started before you were engulfed in his arms. You didn’t hesitate to return, stretching on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in his shoulder. You stood there for a few seconds before pulling away and pecking his lips quickly. “What was that for?” you smiled, a slight blush on your cheeks. 

“Can i not hug my girlfriend?” He asked cheekily, his head tipping to the side slightly like a confused puppy but that what Archie Andrews was; a literal puppy. You hit his chest lightly as your lips stretched into a toothy grin.

 “Hey, I’m not complaining,” you retorted, holding your hands up in defence and earning a chuckle from Archie. You smiled again, taking in your boyfriend’s features. “Come on let’s go upstairs” you smiled, grabbing his hand and making your way up the stairs. You reached your room and went to get your laptop to set up netflix. “So what shall we watch tonight?” You said aimlessly as you entered your password and hitting enter. When Archie didn’t answer you turned around swiftly. “Arch?” You questioned, startling him from a trance he appeared to be in. You met his dark eyes, sending him a confused look.

 “Can we just cuddle?” he pouted, holding his arms out. You felt your heart clench at how adorable he was; you nearly cooed out loud. You gave him a warm smile and walked over to the bed, flopping next to him on the bed. You both settled yourselves on your cream sheets, his head resting on your stomach as you ran your hands lightly through his red hair. A content smile crept onto your face as you stared down at your boyfriend who was staring back up at you with a sleepy gaze. He’d been throwing himself into school lately with his music, football, even his actual schoolwork; so you wasn’t surprised to see him so tired. He need a break. You continued to run your hand through his hair, noticing that it relaxed him. He held your stare for a few more seconds before readjusting his hand on your stomach and closing his eyes. He never failed to make you show how smitten you were over him. Another loving smile was adorned on your face. You tried your hardest to suppress a giggle at how much your boyfriend was currently resembling a puppy. You tried to hide it with a grin but it didn’t work, as you were once again met with his gaze, his drowsiness evident in his dark orbs.

 “What?” he mumbled, an embarrassed smile on his lips and a faint blush on his cheeks.You felt a rosy blush blossom onto your cheeks as you shook your head slightly. You placed your hand lightly on your cheek before running your hand through his hair once again; unmindfully realising that it was relaxing you as much as him. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy” you whispered lovingly. The flush on his cheeks deepened to a fiery crimson and he turned bashful. You took his hand, kissing it softly, and intertwining it with yours. “Go to sleep baby,” you whispered again. He smiled back at you, pulling your hands closer to his chest and cradling them like a teddy bear. You watched him as he drifted into a peaceful slumber and you soon followed; the pair of you falling asleep in the arms of your love.


Yoojin sharing her Alice in Wonderland phone case that reminds her of us Cheshire.  ❤️

Online // p.p.

He didn’t get it. How some girl from San Francisco that he met just a few months ago can cause his heart to race and a smile become a permanent resident on his face. He hasn’t even met her in real life and somehow she’s taken over his mind.

They met on Instagram in October, Peter posting a picture of him and Tony Stark (to make it look like a legit internship) and somehow she found it and liked it. A notification that she was now following him came a few seconds after, half a smile on Peter’s face as he looks through her own page. One of the first pictures he comes across was her in Times Square with the caption Manhattan is calling me.

Before he really realizes what he’s doing, he’s messaging her.

Queens is much better, there’s more to NY than just Times Square.

He follows her back, not really expecting much of a response. Half an hour later his phone dings, a notification that he has a new message.

You’ll have to show me around sometime.

And the rest is history.

The two talk everyday, quickly switching from just private messaging to phone numbers after just a few short days.

“I’ve never felt this strongly for anyone in my entire life,” Peter tells Ned a few weeks after they started talking, “like, ever.”

Flash teases him of course, claiming that this girl isn’t who she says she is and that even if she is, she’s only using Peter to get to Stark.

Peter always talks to her after these instances, sneaking off into the bathroom to call her. Just hearing her voice, hearing her tell him that she cares about him and that nothing Flash says is true helps him make it through the rest of the day.

One day it gets worse, Flash literally following him onto the subway to take him home and incessantly trying to tear him down. Peter all but runs home, bounding up the stairs to his apartment and shutting himself in his room.

It’s bad today, can we Skype when you get home from school?

Give me two minutes.

Peter opens his computer, loading the Skype page. He finds himself looking through her Instagram, just pictures of her making him smile. He hears his computer chime, and accepts the incoming call from her.

“Parker Peter!” She exclaims, teasing him with the name.

“Hey Y/N,” he says, smiling, “how’re you doing? Are you at home?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” she nods, “we had a half day today, our spring break starts tomorrow.”

Peter nods, picking at his thumb nail.

“Peter?” Y/N questions, furrowing her eyebrows. “Talk to me, tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s just…it’s Flash, you know,” Peter shrugs, “he followed me home and just…spent the entire time talking about you and how about that there had to be something wrong with you because you were friends with me…he just wouldn’t shut up. It was horrible.”

The girl wants nothing more than to reach out and comfort him, the only thing stopping her is a computer screen and about three thousand miles.

“Peter you know nothing he says is true,” she replies, “he’s just trying to get a rise out of you, you can’t let him.”

“I know,” Peter replies, “it just bothers me, talking to you helps though.”

Y/N smiles, a blush spreading across her cheeks that she hopes he can’t see.

“Well I’m glad I could help,” she says, “now tell me about your day, besides the Flash part.”

And he does, he tells her about every single thing that happened to him over the course of eleven hours. He can’t help himself, talking to her is so easy and natural he hardly registers that he’s been talking for two hours.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to talk your ear off,” he blushes, “what are you doing for spring break?”

“I dunno, probably just gonna surf a little bit, maybe head up to Anaheim with some friends and go to Disney,” she shrugs, “not really sure.”

Peter bites on his tongue, holding himself back from blurting out you should come up here and visit, because they’ve talked out visiting, they’ve talked about how insane it is because they’re juniors in high school and they’re three thousand miles apart and neither of them able to afford that trip.

But god does he want to see her in person, to hug her, to just be with her in the same time zone.

He hears the front door open and close, signaling that May is home from work.

“I gotta go,” he says reluctantly, “May just got home. I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Okay,” she smiles, “love you Pete.”

“Love you too.”

Almost as soon as the call ends May opens the door to his room, a hint of a smile on her face.

“Talking to that girl again?” She teases.

That girl is named Y/N,” he rolls his eyes, “but yes, I was talking to her.”

“"I never thought you’d fall from someone three thousand miles away,” May says.

“What?” Peter furrows his eyebrows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re just friends.”

“Really?” May leans against the door frame. “Thought I heard some ‘love yous’ in the end of the conversation.”

“It’s just what friends say,” Peter shrugs, “I hear girls do it all the time, it’s nothing.”

May quirks an eyebrow, shrugging.

“Sure,” she says, “I’m going to try and make something for dinner, if not we’ll go out again.”

The end of the school week can’t come fast enough, Peter swears that time is going backwards while he sits in math class on Friday, sneaking glances at his phone as he texts Y/N under the table.

I gotta go Pete, I promised Sarah I’d take her to however many movies she wants to see to help get her mind off of her break up.

Peter smiles.

Okay, I’ll talk to you later. Love you.

Love you too.

Finally the last bell rings, Peter practically sprinting all the way back to his apartment.

“Hey Aunt May!” He calls as he walks in the door, eyes landing on the woman standing in the kitchen.

“Hey Peter,” she says, setting down her coffee mug, “I’ve got the night shift tonight, but before I go we have a guest coming over for dinner tonight so I need you to be here for it, okay?”

“Aunt May I’ve got…” Peter stumbles, “I’ve got a project I need to work on with Ned.”

“I’m sure Ned can get it started,” May replies, “you are going to be here, end of discussion.”

Three hours later Peter hears a knock on the front door of his apartment.

“Peter!” May calls from the kitchen. “Can you get the door? I’m setting the table!”

Peter huffs, rolling off his bed and dragging his feet towards the front door. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, heart dropping slightly when there are no new messages from Y/N.

He opens the door as he puts his phone back in his pocket, not looking at whoever is standing there.

He finally looks up, his heat dropping down to his feet as he stares at the girl in front of him.

“Hey Peter,” she smiles, one hand on her suitcase handle and the other in her pocket.

“I’m dreaming,” he stutters out, “this is a dream.”

“I damn well hope not,” she laughs, “this dream cost me a pretty penny.”

“Oh my god you’re here,” he breaths, pulling her into a hug in the middle of the doorway, “oh my god.”

She hugs him back, a smile on both of their faces.

“What are you doing here?” He asks as they pull away, Peter dragging her suitcase into the living room and closing the door after she comes in.

“Spring break,” she shrugs, “got tired of being super warm all the time, decided to come give Queens a try like you suggested.”

Peter doesn’t know how to respond, so instead he pulls her into another hug, closing his eyes as he buries his face in her neck.

“C'mon you two,” May breaks up the teenagers, “time for dinner.”

“You knew about this?” Peter asks his aunt, surprised at her ability to keep secret.

“Of course I knew about this,” May replies, “I helped set everything up with her parents, and decided that she’s stay here and not in some shady hotel.”

“You guys really pulled one over me,” Peter shakes his head, sitting down at the table next to Y/N, “all those plans you said you had?”

“A cover story,” she smiles, “couldn’t exactly tell you I was gonna surprise you.”

“God I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he smiles, “is that why you weren’t texting me?”

“I was on a five hour flight,” she replies, “so I told you I was at the movies so you wouldn’t get freaked out about me not answering.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” Peter shakes his head.

“That’s why you love me,” she says.

Peter smiles, looking down at his plate as a blush spreads across his cheeks.

Three hours later the teens are in Peter’s room, knees touching as they sit crisscrossed on his bed.

“God I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he says for what has to be the millionth time, “like I’m actually looking at you and it’s not through a computer screen.”

She smiles, Peter can’t freaking get over that damn smile, and she laughs lightly.

“So you’ve said,” she bites down on her bottom lip, “Peter there’s um…there’s something I gotta tell you.”

“You know you can tell me anything.”

“I uh,” she breaths out heavily, “obviously, I came here to see you and to meet you in person but I also…I also came here because I think I’m falling in love with you, and I needed to see you in person to figure out if I am or not…and I am.”

Peter blinks once, twice, and after what seems like hours a smile breaks out onto his face.

“God this has to be a dream now,” he says, “there’s no way you’re serious. You’re too perfect to be with someone like me.”

“I literally just said that I think I’m in love with you,” she shakes her head, “and you go straight for the self depreciation, god.”

Peter blushes, looking down at his lap.

“Peter,” she says, pulling his gaze up to meet hers, “kiss me.”

He does, and it’s everything he could ever want and more. Her skin soft under his finger tips as his chapped lips press onto her smooth ones.

The next thing he knows he’s laying on his back and pulling her up to straddle his waist, her jeans sliding over his.

Peter pulls away only to press his lips to her neck, relishing the gasp that falls from her mouth. Her hips roll forward involuntarily, Peter unable to hold back the groan that spills from his lips. Her fingers hook on his belt loops, practically pulling his hips flush against her own as his hands hold her waist under her shirt.

He rolls his own hips this time, ever so slightly, but enough to pull her back into reality.

“Peter,” she says hoarsely, breathlessly; a sound that he could get used to real fast, “Peter we can’t…not yet.”

He nods, pulling a few inches away from her. She’s right, he knows she’s right, he agrees with her.

“Yeah, yeah of course,” he replies, “just…just lay with me, okay?”

She nods, moving off of his lap and settling herself into his side, their hands intertwined and a smile on both of their faces.

“If it wasn’t obvious,” he whispers, “I think I’m in love with you too.”

Her smile widens and she presses a kiss to his knuckles.

“I’m really glad you decided to message me,” she says quietly, “and I’m damn glad I stumbled across your picture and had the guts to like it.”

“This is a redundant question,” Peter says, “but will you be my girlfriend?”

“You don’t care about the distance?” She asks.

“Distance is the last thing I care about,” Peter replies, “yeah it’s gonna suck, but we’re gonna get through it. We’ll text and call just like we did before, and I’ll get job so I can get some money and come out and see you,” he presses a few gentle kisses to her neck, “and then we’ll be adults and we can be together for more than just a week or two at a time.”


“I promise.”

When May gets home from work early the next morning, she’s greeted with the two teenagers cuddled together in Peter’s bed. She smiles, whispers a small ’finally’ under her breath, and closes his bedroom door.

Warm Me Up ch. 24

Songs: The Reason- Hoobastank, Hero- Enrique Iglesias, and a few Spanish Nortenas. 

Also, yes, I am aware this is shorter than most sorry.

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone

Click Here for Ch. 1

Click Here for Ch. 23

There was an evident path of flattened grass in front of the dorm hall where Will lived. But Nico wasn’t there for Will. He was there to get answers so he could let his mind rest. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear what would be said to him, and he wasn’t sure what he would do with the information if he didn’t like it.

But he had to know.

Bracing himself, he walked into the dorm and went to the floor under Will’s. He walked basing himself by the name on the doors until he saw Peter on one. Then, taking a deep breath, he knocked and waited.

A few seconds later a guy with wavy hair and hazel green eyes opened the door, raising his eyebrows when he saw Nico. “Hey. Good to see you’re okay.”

Nico shoved away the shame and embarrassment. “Thanks. Um. I was wondering if you could tell me what happened… that day?”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows and opened the door a little wider. “Sure. Come in.” Nico followed him in. He sat at the desk chair and Peter leaned against the wall, facing him. “What… what do you remember?”

He bit his lip and sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I remember… kissing you here. Then going to my dorm. And drinking. Then I woke up in a hospital.”

Keep reading

Another collab Sweetie, this time with my boy @lilfunkman!

Funk draws so smol I love it, her body looks so exceptionally squish, I couldn’t tarnish it with a cutie mark. I feel like she should be saying something but I couldn’t come up with anything that wasn’t a filthy meme or a yoyo so happy belle shall stand on her own I suppose.

Feels like old times to draw this, Funk and I have known each other something like 4 years? All the way back in the day when I was first learning over at MLP Drawing School from reddit. Been drawing with him on voice or on video for years ever since so it was only natural this Sweetie happened. God bless lilfunkman and god bless Sweetie Belle. 🙏 🙏 🙏 

Anyways, enjoy a simple cute Sweetie Belle with thanks to lilfunkman for the sketch!

Love Story // j.j.

A/N: obviously based on the Taylor Swift song lol but I thought this idea was cute :)


Trouble seems to have a way of finding Y/N, trouble generally in the form the Southside Serpents. Well, more specifically, trouble with the name of Jughead Jones.

Y/N father is the leader of a gang rival to the Serpents, which usually meant that someone at some point in time is trying to use her to get to her dad.

Jughead Jones is not one of these people.

She had been raised on the idea that anyone affiliated with the Serpents is not to be trusted, that no one who is a part of them will do her any good.

But then she meets him.

It’s sophomore year by the time the two actually speak to each other, each knowing who the other is but being warned by their parents to never give them a second glance.

Jughead breaks the warning first.

“Y/N right?” He asks, standing next to her locker. “I’m J-”

“I know exactly who you are,” she hisses, slamming her locker shut and walking away from him.

“Hey!” Jughead calls, walking briskly down the hall to catch up with her. “Look, I can bet you’ve been told the same things I was as a kid about me and about my family but I don’t want to live like that anymore. I’m done with my dad and all of that. I think we could actually be really good friends.”

Y/N stops, spinning on her heel to face him.

“Friends?” She asks, titling her head slightly. “What makes you say that?”

“We’re similar, like really similar,” he shrugs, “just a feeling. I think we’d get along really well.”

“Well, I’m willing to test that theory, if you want,” she says, the words coming out of her mouth before she can even think them all the way through.

Jughead’s face brightens.

“Really?” He asks, shocked. “That would be awesome.”

She smiles finally, adjusting a strap on her bag.

“One thing though,” she says, “my dad can’t know.”

“Yeah well, neither can mine,” Jughead replies, “so I guess we’re in the same boat.”

“I guess we are.”

“Pops after school?” Jughead asks. “I’ve got a booth in the back room he’ll let us use. No one will be able to see us there.”

“I’ll see you there,” she smirks, walking into her class and leaving Jughead to walk to his own with a bright smile adorning his face.

Jughead’s right, the two of them become fast friends, talking like they’ve known each other their entire lives, and, in a sense, they have.

The secrecy and the sneaking around only makes it more enticing for them to be together, no matter the warnings running through each of their heads. It only takes about six weeks for it to happen.

Y/N breaks the warning first.

“Juggie I’m scared,” she whispers, her head resting on his lap as they sit on the roof of the drive in projection booth.

“What? Why?” Jughead asks, looking down at her. “Did someone say something to you?”

“No it’s not that it’s just…” she takes a deep breath, locking eyes with him, “I really like you, Juggie, I’ve never felt this way for someone before and it scares me.”

“Do you mean like me as i-”

“Yeah,” she cuts him off, even the thought of the words being spoken scaring her, “it’s scary enough that I’ve never felt this before but then you take into account everything with our dads and that just…adds about ten more levels of fear.”

“You don’t need to be scared,” he whispers, brushing some hair off of her forehead, “not about that, not about anything, I’ll protect you.”


“I like you too, Y/N,” he says casually, like there really isn’t anything to be afraid of, “and I don’t care what our parents have to say about it, it’s my life, not my dads. I don’t approve of what he does so why should he have a say in what I do?”

“Rebel with a cause,” Y/N murmurs, smiling.

“You’re the best cause,” Jughead replies, leaning down and brushing his lips across her forehead.

It takes another three weeks before Jughead asks Y/N if he can tell his friends about them, and another week of reassurance that they won’t tell anyone and that they don’t care about what her dad does, after all, they know about his dad and are still friends with him.

She finally agrees, and Jughead is correct once again. His friends don’t care in the slightest that her and Jughead’s dad hate each other, in fact, they seem to find it even more sweet that the two of them are together despite it.

“It’s like a real life Romeo and Juliet story!” Veronica sequels, clasping her hands together.

“You do know they both died in the end, right?” Y/N points out.

“Yeah, and so did like all of their closest friends,” Jughead adds.

Veronica rolls her eyes, shrugging.

“Still, you know what I mean.”

Six months after the first day they spoke, no one else has found out about the two, until-

The pebbles hitting Y/N’s window draws her attention away from her textbook. She pulls back the curtain, eyes widening at the image of her boyfriend standing below her window in the dimming sunlight.

“Jughead!” She calls quietly out of the window after she opens it. “What the hell are you doing? My dad will kill you if he sees that you’re here, and that’s not an exaggeration.”

“I need to talk to you,” Jughead replies, “like, now.”

She nods, telling him to wait. Fortunately for the pair, Y/N’s parents are out of the house. She practically runs down the stairs, opening the front door.

“My parents aren’t home, we can talk here,” she says, motioning him to come inside.

She leads him through the kitchen and into the living room, sitting on the couch as he does the same.

“What’s going on, Jug?”

“Joaquin knows,” Jughead replies vaguely, fiddling with his hands.

“Kevin’s boyfriend?” Y/N asks, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. “Knows what?”

“Knows about us,” Jughead clarifies, “and he’s not just Kevin’s boyfriend.”

“What do you mean?”

“He works with my dad,” he whispers, “he’s a Serpent.”

Y/N breath catches in her throat, she swallows heavily.

“How’d he find out?” She asks.

“Kevin, I guess,” Jughead shrugs, “he told me that they were talking and it just slipped out. All he said was your name and Joaquin knows who you are. Honestly, I’m surprised Kevin kept it from him this long, usually he blabs about stuff minutes after they happen i-”

Jughead stops as he looks at Y/N, noticing how worried she looks.

“You don’t think he’s going to tell, do you?” She whispers.

Jughead pulls her into his side, gently kissing her temple.

“No, I don’t think he will,” he whispers, “I mean, he’s dating the Sheriff’s son, I think that might take precedence over us if that were to ever get out.”

“I’m scared Juggie,” she whispers.

“Hey, what did I tell you?” Jughead rubs her shoulder comfortingly. “I’m going to protect you, protect us, nothing’s going to happen.”

“Why do we have to be who we are?” She asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I want to hold your hand in the hallway Juggie I want…I want us to at least have to option to act like all those other couples you see but we don’t,” she mumbles, “I can barely even talk to you at school and it sucks.”

Jughead presses a soft kiss to her lips, effectively stopping her rambling.

“Look, I know that it can be hard,” he says quietly, “I know that it’s frustrating and that it’s unfair but this just makes us better. I also know that, at least for me, it means that we’re real, and that we both want this. That we aren’t just doing this to spite our parents or something like that, that we actually care about each other. Because if we didn’t we wouldn’t be putting ourselves through all of this.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she says, nodding.

“I love you, Y/N,” he says, kissing her head, “these past six months with have made me happier than I have ever felt in my entire life, I’m not giving that up. I’m not giving you up.”

His words cause her heart to skip a beat, this being the first time they had been said out loud between the pair.

“I…” she swallows, happiness bubbling in her stomach, “I love you too, Jug.”

She pulls his lips down on top of hers, one hand holding the back of his neck while the other grips his shirt lightly.

Jughead cups her face in both his hands, feeling her pulse speed up slightly as his finger tips brushed across her neck.

“I love you Juggie,” she repeats in a whisper, a small smile on her face as the two of them pull away, “I don’t want us to be a secret anymore.”

“I’m afraid that cat is already out of the bag,” a voice from the other side of the room makes both the teenagers jump, heads wiping forward the sound.

“Dad!” Y/N exclaims, eye widening like saucers. “I um…I didn’t know you’d be back so soon.”

“Obviously,” her dad replies, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, “Jughead,” he nods once.

“M-Mr. Y/L/N,” Jughead says, swallowing a bit.

“Dad I-I can explain it’s j-” Y/N stutters, stopping when her father holds up a single hand.

“No need,” he says, “Mr. Jones here has already explained everything.”

“Wait, what?” She shakes her head. “I’m confused.”

“Jughead came to me not to long ago,” her father explains, “told me about himself and about his father, about what he’s gone through. Eventually we got around to the topic of you,” he purses his lips for a moment, Y/N’s heart practically beating out of her chest, “I’ve never heard someone talk about another human with as much adoration and…well, and as much love as he talked about you Y/N. And I decided that this feud between me and his father is just that, between me and his father. It should have no effect on the lives you two wish to live, as long as you’re happy. And along as you treat her right, Jones.”

Jughead nods vigorously, her dad cracks a half smile.

“I’ll see you tonight for dinner Y/N,” he says, turning to leave before pausing, “you can stay too if you’d like, Jughead.”

Without waiting for a reply, her dad leaves, the two of teens sitting in silence for a few moments before Y/N speaks.

“You talked to my dad?” She asks.

“Well I um…I ran into him outside Pops one night and it just…we just got to talking. I think he wanted to talk about my dad but uh…I dunno he brought you up and I couldn’t stop myself. I’m sorry.”

“No, no Jug don’t be sorry,” she shakes her head, “I’m glad you did, honestly. I just…I expected him to freak out, that’s all. He just surprised me,” she pushes her hair behind her ear, “did you really talk about me like that?”

Jughead blushes, ducking his head down as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I only have a few good things in my life Y/N,” he says, “and you’re probably the best, can’t blame me for how I feel.”

“Aw Juggie,” she whispers, placing a hand on his cheek, “I’m so glad I met you.”

Jughead smiles, pulling her in for a kiss.

“You know what this means, right?” He asks quietly, lips hovering above hers. “Now that your dad knows and is seemingly okay with it?”

“Care to enlighten me?” She asks, rubbing her thumb over his jaw line.

“We don’t have to be a secret anymore,” he says, kissing her softly again, “not if you don’t want us to be.”

“What about your dad?” Y/N asks, swallowing, “aren’t you scared that he’ll do something?”

“I don’t care about what my dad thinks,” Jughead replies, shaking his head, “he has no say in what I do, none. I’m living my life my way, and he knows that. We don’t have to be a secret anymore baby,” he smiles, “just say yes.”

“Yes, yes,” she smiles back, “oh my god yes.”

She presses her lips to his, hands cupping his face.

“I love you Juggie,” she whispers, “as much as I hate what my dad does, it lead me to you and for that I am eternally grateful.”

“You’re such a sap,” Jughead smiles, shaking his head, “I love you too.”

“Hold my hand in the hall tomorrow?”

“Nothing would bring me more joy,” Jughead replies, “might even kiss you too.”

“Oh really?” She smirks. “I might enjoy that.”

“Just say yes.”