“Baek, why do I have to be here again?” Baekhyun rolled his eyes at your question, yanking out one of your earbuds as you blew a bubble into the gum you were smacking on.
“Maybe if you weren’t playing your music so loud you would’ve heard me the first time.” he raised his brow at you, nodding his head to the loose earbud that was playing loud rock ‘n roll into the open air. “I told you; this was a last-minute MC thing they needed me to do and I wouldn’t dare leave you at the dorm with the sausage party living there.”
“I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest as you popped your gum.
“Oh, I know you can, I also know that the guys wouldn’t control themselves around you.” Baekhyun pointed out, dragging you further in the backstage area of the TV set.
“How come things like this always happen when I come to visit you?” you huffed, blowing another bubble as you followed your older brother.
“Coincidence?” Baekhyun smiled and shrugged, chuckling when he heard the music coming out of your exposed earbud.
“Really? ‘Super Freak’ by Rick James?” you just smirked and winked at your brother.
“Hey, 70′s American funk is amazing and you can’t tell me otherwise big bro.” you saw him poke his tongue out at you as you shoved your earbud back in, taking out a fresh stick of gum and adding it to the growing wad in your mouth. You tugged the leather jacket you wore closer to you; well, really it was Baekhyun’s, but after hearing you complain about the cold he immediately gave it up to you. He knew he wouldn’t hear the end of your whining if he didn’t.
You sighed, aimlessly looking around at the hustle and bustle of the studio as your mind became absorbed in funky bass and brass music. You took your phone out of your pocket, intending to change the song when you ran smack dab into someone, losing your brother in the throng of stage workers. You fell straight on your bottom, your earbuds popping out of your ears as your phone slid across the floor.
“Shit.” you muttered, scrambling after your phone. You reached out to grab it when a hand beat you to it, picking it up and examining the screen. You looked at the person on the ground next to you (obviously, they were the one you had ran into) and were fully intending on giving them a good cussing out not only for taking your property, but for not even mumbling a sorry, when your words got caught in your throat.
The person you ran into had to be one of the best-looking people you had seen in your entire life; with sweet chocolate brown hair, dark eyes and sharp facial features you didn’t know if you had ran into a normal human being, or some sort child of Aphrodite. You stopped your persistent gum chewing when he finally acknowledged you, his lips curving into a smirk as he held your phone out to you cheekily.
Hello! Could you please give some ideas of habits or hobbies so I can make my characters seem more 'real'? So far I have one that is obsessed with cleaning, one that apologizes too much and one that likes to 'play' with the zombies like they're normal people. I need more 7 of those because there are a lot of characters. Thanks in advance!
No problem. Here is a list a list of common habits and hobbies:
Warning for the extremely long post!
- Biting(Lips, nails, gums, etc)
-Tapping nails/fingers on things
-Clicking their tongue
-Licking or smacking their lips
- Rolling their eyes
-Getting easily distracted
-Talking too loud or too quiet
-Talking too fast or too slow
-Always waking up/ going to bed at the same times
- Over Drinking
-Under drinking/ Forgetting to stay hydrated
-Under eating/ forgetting to eat
-Over spending or refusing to spend money
-Over using media/ technology
-Cracking Knuckles, neck or back
-Talking to themselves
-Not holding eye contact/ Prolonged eye contact
–Constantly repeating yourself
-Forgetting who you told what
-Slouching or having good posture
-Easily getting into fights
-Being rude or overly polite
-Being late, on time or early always
-Clearing their throat
-Fidgeting with themselves or other things
-Grinding your teeth.
That’s all I can think of at the moment for that but there are literally hundreds more.
My first time trying to write! Any suggestions are welcomed! Might make a smutty second part?
Summary: When Tom Holland came into your gym a year ago, you were doubtful if the rising star was serious when he said he was interested in becoming a respectable fighter. In a short time he became your sparring mate. Now he is back from filming and needs a refresher. You won’t be going easy and things are going to get a little more heated this time…
Tom slammed his fists into the swaying punching bag. His gloves smacking against the dummy in an impressive rhythm. The sounds of his grunts and the echo of his blows reached you, even from the other room. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you pulled on your own pair of gloves. It had been a year since you heard Tom’s memorable “tss’s” the way he vocalized his blows never left your memory. He had been busy all this time filming for the role of his life, not being there to train Tom yourself made you anxious and worried, but you were relieved to see that the young actor hadn’t lost his touch. Tightening your gloves and positioning your mouth guard over your gums, you roll your neck and head into the gymnasium. Tom was fixated on the punching bag. His blows became intense and quick. He stepped back, his arms tensing up, and he reengaged with a final flurry of jabs. The last blow rang out and the whole frame holding the bag shook. Tom lowered his arms and stood back, breathing heavy. Wiping sweat from his brow, he looked at the bruised bag as it swung back and forth. His exhausted trance was interrupted as clapping filled the quiet gymnasium. “I’m impressed, you can still throw a decent punch.” Tom turned to see you clapping mockingly. A grin crept onto his face as he saw you decked out in boxing gear. He was eager to fight you, you could tell from his gaze. “Hey it’s been awhile-” he said in a short breathe before he was cut off as you slammed your fists together. “What’s with that stupid grin? Don’t be so happy about beating up a defenseless punching bag.” Tom bit his tongue, holding back the urge to respond with something crude. You put your hands on your hips and look at the boy up and down. He was drenched and every exhausted breathe he took lifted his entire body. His damp tank-top clinged to his body. He looks good, you couldn’t help thinking. “You need a break?” You question him while raising an eyebrow. Tom’s grin grew bigger as he shook his head, his drenched hair swinging with each motion. You roll your eyes at his cocky attitude. Walking away from Tom and the bruised bag, you begin to walk towards the ring. You turn your gaze back at Tom who was still patiently standing there, waiting for instruction, his eyes glaring at you viciously. You gestured your head towards the ring, beckoning him to accompany you. He smirked eagerly as he followed your lead, rolling his shoulders and stretching his limbs along the way.
Tom and you circle the ring, your eyes never unlocking. Both of you were hesitant to engage. Your concentration was foiled as your attention was drawn to a bead of sweat falling from one of Tom’s locks that dangled from his messy head. Tom saw his opportunity and lunged forward, launching a fist towards you. In a split second you regain your focus and shield yourself from his blow. The hit was hard and you felt Tom’s strength shake you. The young actor had built up quite the stamina and power since you had last seen him. You were filled with excitement and joy seeing Tom had gained some power. You shift your weight and went low. Tom backed up and raised his gloves over his face, a mistake. You threw a quick and stunning blow to Tom’s rib. Tom cringed as his body flexed in response to the shocking strike. In that short second, you saw his pained face and felt worried you had gone to hard on him. You had forgotten for a moment that Tom hadn’t been sparring for months, but your worries were eased as a fist landed against your cheek. You and Tom stumble back from the short engagement. You could feel the sting on your cheek begin to intensify. Both of you smiled through your mouth guards. As if you read each other’s mind, you both charged at each other. In the end you stood on top. It was a quick match, but you were thrilled to have your sparring partner back. Tom laid on his back with his arms outstretched. His chest heaved up and down and his face twisted in pain but he was smiling extra hard. You pull off your gloves and flick away sweat from your face. You kneel down to the now drained Tom Holland. “Good fight.” You say with the little breathe you had left. You push a glove playfully into his cheek. “Let’s get you patched up.” He looks up at you grinning, his mouth guard barley in his mouth as he chuckles through it. You smiled back.
You grab a cloth and an icepack from the back. You enter the room just as Tom was peeling of his shirt. He struggled pulling the fabric off of him, pain shooting across his body with each movement he made. You are taken back by how different Tom looked. A year ago he was this a somewhat scrawny dweeb with some definition, but now he looked vastly bigger. “Damn Tom, you really bulked up.” you said as you approached the sore and bruised star. ”You surprised? The studios got me working out non-stop. Just another perk of being a superhero I guess.” You sit down on the bench and raised the ice pack to Tom’s bruised rib. The cold touch made him gasp. ”All that training as Spider-Man didn’t do you any good against me though.” You teasingly say, smirking up at Tom. ”H-hey, at least this time I landed a good hit.” Tom replied as he eyed your redden cheek. You chuckle, “That’s cause I went easy on you, wasn’t sure if all that time in spandex made you soft.” You moved the ice pack down his torso, the ice melting over his heated body. You uncontrollably bit your lip as you slid the pack across his skin. Tom’s brow arched as he looked down at you. “After training with you for months, how could I not be so damn tough? Your punches are like no other.” You took the ice pack and threw it at Tom, he caught it with his hands as it landed on his chest. “Don’t be so cheesy, dork.” You said as you got up to go fetch yourself your own ice pack, but Tom’s hand stopped you. You looked down at the hand gripping your wrist and then at Tom. He was giving you the puppy-dog eyes that you loved so much. “I’m being serious! I’ve missed this gym, I’ve missed the fighting…I’ve missed you.” Tom said shyly as he stood up and pulled you closer. His hand brushed against your cheek. Tom’s thumb glided over the injury on your face. The bruise stinged and you squinted as Tom’s touch triggered it. “Sorry.” He said pulling his hand back and looking away. You push yourself closer and land on his chest. Your hand brushed against his bruised rib. Tom held back a gasp from the sudden sensation and smiled. “Sorry.” you said with a grin.
Tom dived into your neck as your hand ran through his wet hair. His lips biting at your skin. You try holding back your moans, but this intensity was never expected from Tom. You motion your hand down his toned arms and under his chest. You unintentionally push against his sore rib cage and Tom grunts in pain through his teeth. Tom grips your face as he brings his to yours. Your eyes lock and you both awkwardly chuckle at each other. You grab the back of his neck and pull him in. Your lips embracing his. Your fingers danced over his soft cheeks and down his neck. A sudden grab to your backside surprised you. His arms pulled you up as you tossed your legs around his waist. Unromantically and awkwardly, he lowered you to the gym floor. Your body tingled from the cold touch of tiled surface. Tom propped himself up with one hand as his other ran through your hair. His weight was ontop of you and you could feel his body heat rising. Drops of sweat fell from his hair and his breathing was frantic. Tom pulled away from your lips and placed his other arm next to your face. He looked down at you as you looked up at him. You felt encaged by him. His arms surrounding you and his figure shadowing your gaze. His chest vibrated from his shaky breathing. Both your bodies were going through different sensations of pain and pleasure. His skin was on fire with excitement and you couldn’t stop but blushing at the sight of an eager Tom. He sneered down at you. “Ready for a rematch?” He said in a dispersed breathe. You wrap your arms around his neck and peered into his brown eyes.
Three popular and gorgeous females construct a fail proof plan to transform Bay Valley High’s social loner into playboy Grayson Dolan’s demise.
^creds to thedolangifs
Chapter 2 | step 1: attain attention
Catie thrusts the short skirt into my hands, and I wonder if my butt will even fit into it. I am not cheerleader material, I’m more on the clumsy side and far too quiet to yell cheers and perform in front of a crowd. I didn’t really think through that I’ll be expected to do these things on top of winning over Grayson’s attention. I’d much rather do calculations than this. “Hurry up and put it on! It’s 8:35 and Grayson is always out in the hall skipping first period. We have to catch him before he leaves.”
I turn from her to undress as I’m not very comfortable with a girl I hardly know seeing my body. I look to the cream tile of the locker room to keep my mind off of the nerves that are twisting my stomach into knots. “What do I even say to him?”
I hear her shuffling to grab my discarded clothes from the floor, my bag rustling as she thrusts them inside. “Flirt with him, but be very uninterested about it.”
I wrestle to pull the skirt lower but it won’t budge, Catie shooing my hands away to hike it up more. “So do I just walk up to him and say hello? Compliment his shirt, his shoes? Does that sound good?”
Moments pass as she stares at me with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “Oh shit, you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing. Oh my god, okay. Sit down.”
She pushes my shoulder roughly down as my nearly bare butt hits the cold metal bench. She crouches before me, blowing out a huff of air into my face before her demeanor completely changes and she becomes some unexpected seductress. “Bump into him on purpose, but of course make it look like an accident.” Her soft hand reaches up to grasp my nonexistent bicep. “Grasp onto him, but just for a second. Look up at him through your eyelashes and give him some sweet apology. Any girl in a cheer uniform he’ll flirt with, and just when he begins to try and strike conversation, walk away. He’ll follow you, but only give him a few hums and short responses. I’ll wait for you at the end of the hall, as soon as he sees me he’ll back off.”
Before I have time to let the plan sink into my rattled brain, she pushes me out of the locker room and right down hallway C. It’s the main hallway for seniors, and it isn’t an odd occurrence to see many of them scattered around ditching class for a few minutes. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, leaning against a locker that isn’t his and speaking with Brooks McMahon. Catie gives me a gentle pat on the back, thrusting one of my books from my bag into my hands and turns the other way. I’m doomed, stranded in this hallway with no where to go but passed him. I try and emulate the walk Catie has, confident and unbothered, but I probably look like I’m ready to faint.
He’s only a few paces away, not even concerned with looking at me, and I think for a moment I’ll just keep walking. But before I can decide, he steps forward to give Brooks a handshake, I ram right into the side of his head with my own. “Ah, shit.” I’m flat on my butt on the cold tile floor, my homework for Economics littered all over the floor. I reach over to start grasping the paper as quick as I can before a rough hand extends in front of my face. “I’m sorry beautiful, let me help you up.”
I think quick and take what little advice from Catie that I can to revive this horribly failed plan, I grasp his bicep through his cotton tshirt instead and raise myself up. No matter that she told me to be a priss and bat my eyelashes, I reach down to gather the papers instead. No way am I looking him in the eye after that. “I’m sorry for running into you, guess I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
He bends down in my view to help pick up the papers, his eyes skimming over the heavy coursework before raising an eyebrow. He hands them to me, my eyes finally raising without my consent to look him as close as I ever have. He’s a God, there’s no doubt about that. I’ve always known the reason why girls chased after him, but I wasn’t attracted to cocky jerks. “Not an issue.” He flashes me a perfectly bright white smile before I thrust the pages back into my book and continue to find Catie. I’m not even concerned with her instructions, I just really want to get away from him. “Hey, wait up!”
I keep walking, not even looking back as I respond, “yes?”
He jogs up to reach my side, I can see Catie standing at the very corner of the hallway. If I can make it to her, I’m safe. “Are you new here? I would’ve definitely noticed a gorgeous girl like you before if you aren’t.”
Just four more steps and I have Catie in my hands, just keep it cool and collected. Keep it short. “No, I’ve attended school with you since kindergarten actually.”
He stops with furrowed eyebrows and pure confusion, Catie gives me a knowing smile as her arms extend to wrap me in a very staged hug. “Y/N! We’ve got to get going, coach wants to see us before next period.”
Catie chances a glance back at Grayson, leaning in to whisper in my ear, “yeah, we’ve got him. He’s totally checking out your ass right now.”
“What do you mean go to Davies? I have ten pages of Calculus homework and I have a huge test in Physics tomorrow.” Star is leaned against her white Mercedes, blowing a bubble from her hot pink gum as she rolls her eyes at me, her signature trademark.
Misty scoffs, checking the parking lot to be sure no one sees us grouped together near the exit. “You have to come! Grayson always goes to Davies after school every Thursday. The whole team eats and then goes to late practice.”
Catie nods her head in agreement, grabbing my arm as she pulls me to her car. “After this morning he’ll be dying to find you again, this is the perfect chance.”
I don’t know why I agree, I guess mostly for the fact that I know I can’t get out of it. Catie blares mainstream pop all the way to the diner just a couple of miles down the road, I can see the whole team crowding the booths from the window. “What am I supposed to do?”
Catie is already getting out of the car before she pops her head back in and gives me a reassuring smile. “We go in, take a seat with the cheer team and wait. He will come to you, just remember what I told you earlier; act uninterested and keep him guessing.”
I sigh out, pushing the door open before contemplating standing in the middle of traffic. Had I not just kept my mouth shut in the library the other day, I wouldn’t be here, I’d be at home studying quantum physics. The door bell rings as we enter the loud and rowdy diner, boys shooting straw papers at each other and flirting with the cheerleaders a few rows over. Catie grasps my hand and weaves us right in the middle of their booths, winking to Walker Vick as his buddy gives him a knowing nudge to the shoulder. I shutter just to think what they’ve done together, Walker far exceeds Grayson in the cocky department.
The girls make room for us, automatically accepting me as one of their own from the way Catie is grasping to me like we’re life long friends. A waitress sends me a glass of water, and one for Catie, and we wait. I can feel his burning stare before he comes to me, the stares of Misty and Star also sending flames on my back. I’m seated at the very end of the booth, right where Catie wanted me, the chair across from us screeching against the floor as it pulls up beside me and he sits. “So Y/N, why is it that I’ve never seen you around before?”
I feel Catie watching me out of the corner of her eye as she reaches under the table to squeeze my kneecap as a reminder. “I guess you weren’t really looking.”
All of the girls giggle over each other, chins on their palms as they stare at him shamelessly, but I’ll die before I give him the same courtesy. “I guess I should’ve been. I’m assuming you’ll be wearing my number tomorrow for the game?”
Anyone in Bay Valley knows that the cheerleaders wear their favorite players number on the cheeks for good luck on game day. I remember sophomore year when Chrissy Marcos wore Grayson’s number while she was dating Andrew Holyfield, that hadn’t gone over well. “And why would I?”
Apparently my response was a good one, Catie slapping my knee lightly as I noticed her grin. I was only being honest. I looked over to him with a raised eyebrow, beginning to understand that there wasn’t much about him that was intimidating. He only was if you wanted to ride his face, which I sure as hell didn’t. He looks almost angry before he laughs out cockily and winks at me, my face never faltering. “Very cute. You’ll be at the bonfire on Saturday, right?”
Catie stomps down on my foot as I bite my tongue to keep from cussing out. I breathe in harshly to rid the pain before shrugging my shoulders, I hadn’t even known there was a bonfire on Saturday. “I might be.”
Catie’s hand is still closed around my kneecap as one of his hands reaches underneath the table to grasp my naked thigh roughly. “Good, you can come with me.”
Once in awhile, the two of you like
to go out at night without a special plan in mind and just do whatever you
please. Just like tonight. It’s going to be so much fun! Right?…
You hold the broken gold chain in
your hand, crying your eyes out while J kisses your other hand, trying to calm
you down and drive straight in the same time:
“I’m gonna get you another one, Pumpkin,
“But you gave this to me for our two
year anniversaarrryyyy,” you bawl, upset like never before, looking for a
tissue in your purse. “Oh, look, baby, a grenade, “you suddenly stop your mourning,
taking it out and showing it to him. “I didn’t even know I had it in here, you
think it’s expired?” you wipe your tears, smiling like nothing happened.
“I don’t think they expire, doll,” he
winks at you, working his charm on you.
Thank God she got distracted, Mister J thinks, pleased he avoided catastrophe. Must be
that…time of the month because you always get really emotional; he really doesn’t
want to deal with it but he has no choice.
“Oh, no!” you suddenly gasp, digging in
your purse and your bottom lip quivers on the verge of crying again. “Jaaayyyy,
I’m out of my gum,” you whimper, staring at him. “I want my gum!”
“Say no more, Daddy will take care of
it!” he quickly agrees, really struggling to keep his cool. If he can’t keep his girl happy, then who
will?! He yanks at the steering
wheel, going over the curve, hitting two trash cans in the process, almost
killing a cat and a pigeon.
He sees the gas station and since it’s
so late at night there are no customers. Perfect for what you need. The two of
you rush inside with your guns out and the clerk freezes in fear when he
recognizes the famous criminals.
“Don’t move or I’ll blow your brains
out!” The Joker growls, taking the safety off his purple pistol while you go by
the counter and start looking for your gum, and…
“Baaabbby, they don’t have strawberry
flavor in the brand I like,” you whine, feeling another wave of imminent tears strolling
down your cheeks.
“What?! Why don’t you have strawberry?!” J raises his voice, alarmed.
“W-we run out s-sir,” the clerk
stutters, closing his eyes, thinking he’s going to die tonight. “We have
strawberry in o-other brands…”
“I only like this brand!” you interrupt,
snorting, wiping your nose with your sleeve while scratching your thigh with your
Good gracious, she’s such a classy woman, your boyfriend thinks, suddenly
aroused, really wanting to bite you all over.
“She only likes this brand!!!!” The Joker
repeats, getting out of his trance, screaming at the poor guy that trembles
like a leaf. “Why are you upsetting my girl, hm? Don’t you know you should have
that stuff on hand all the time?”
The Joker pulls the trigger, shooting the guy in his shoulder and he collapses to
the ground on the other side of the counter, yelping in pain.
“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, otherwise you’d be dead now!” J yells, mad as
hell, taking your hand and fastly walking back to the car.
“Stop crying, Princess, we’ll get
your gum!” he promises, starting to drive again. He feels so aggravated, but if he can’t keep his girl happy, then who
After a few miles he notices a small,
lonely convenience store and slams the breaks, sharply turning so he can park.
You both run inside and he keeps the terrified
owner at gunpoint while you look through their stash and let out a scream when
you see what you need. You grab a paper bag and cram in all the strawberry flavored
gum you see in the brand you like and grab one last package, wanting to open it
when the date gets your attention.
“Jaaaayyyy, this is expired,” you complain,
your quivering bottom lip making him lose it.
“Are you trying to kill my girl?!” he
snaps at the man, outraged, mostly because he has to deal with you in this state after
you leave the store.
“N-no, n-not at all, I-I don’t know
how it happened,” the guy gulps, feeling he’s going to faint soon.
“They’re all expired, baaabyyy,” you frantically
go through your bag, tossing each little package one after the other.
“Are you trying to kill your
customers?! What kind of place is this? You should be reported to authorities!
No, Doll, don’t!” J slaps your hand when you try to actually open the last package
because you want your gum badly and it makes you more upset when you drop it. “Let’s
go, Y/N, this damn city is trying to kill us tonight,” he pants, backing out
and you hold on to his green shirt, following him outside like a lost puppy.
“Hold on, baby,” you sniffle and take
the grenade out of your purse, heading back inside and tossing it towards the
back of the store, shouting at the clerk:
“This is for trying to kill people!” The explosion blows up the back wall and
messes up half a store. You start laughing, suddenly happy, heading back to
your car. “I don’t want gum anymore, can we drive to our spot?” you sweetly
ask, kissing his shoulder as he starts driving again. You forgot to cry.
thinks. Why? Because you usually go to your secret spot on top of the hill to
have sex. Since you are…not able to for now, it only means one thing: you will
want to cuddle and talk. Your boyfriend takes a deep breath, pretending he’s not
panicking. Butif he can’t keep his girl happy, then who will?!
Once you get there, you crawl on the hood
with him, placing yourself in between his legs so he can hold your waist from
“Ahhh, this is so nice, isn’t it
baby?” you giggle, putting your hands on top of his. The Joker is tense but
doesn’t want to show it. He hates this
kind of crap. “Wow, a falling star! Make a wish!” you get all excited,
clapping and he sighs, bored. “Did you make a wish? What did you wish for?” you
turn your head so you can see him.
“For Goddamm Gotham to have your
stupid gum!” he grumbles, rolling his eyes.
“No way! Me too!” you get on your knees,
turning so you can face him. “What were the odds, baby?” You smile so brightly his
sassiness goes down a notch. “You really love me, don’t you?” you bite your lip
and he feels his left eye twitching.
“Yeap,” his short answer comes and you
don’t give up.
“Ummm, a decent amount I guess,” he growls,
uncomfortable, wishing you would change the subject.
“Really?!” you kiss him, astounded. “This
is one of the nicest things you ever said to me,” you get all teary and
“I know,” he agrees, beginning to
feel kind of nauseated. The things he has to go through to please you. Butif
he can’t keep his girl happy, then who will?!
“Dadddyyyy,” you trace his Jester
tattoo, batting your lashes at him.
Oh, hell no,
The Joker thinks. You only call him Daddy in bed (which is not the case here) or when you want something he wouldn’t agree
with, which is probably the case.
“Yes, Kitten?” he tilts his head, waiting to hear what else it’s going to come
out of your mouth next.
“I think we should have a baby, or two
or three, but at least two, yes?” you blur out, enthusiastic to the maximum and
he starts getting flustered, not expecting such a twist.
“I don’t think so, Pumpkin,” The Joker utters with such a determination you start
“Why, not, babbbyyy?” you wail,
sobbing with your face on his neck like he’s been dead for three months or so. “You
think I’m ugly?!”
His hands stop caressing your back
because he’s trying to soothe you.
“I don’t think you’re ugly, I think
you are a pretty Doll,” he debates, trying to sound as sincere as possible on
this one. “You look decent, don’t
worry,” he pets your hair and you wipe your tears, grinning at him. Man, he absolutely hates this crap. But
if he can’t keep his girl happy, then who
“This is one of the nicest things you
ever said to me, Jaaayyy,” you proudly state, swallowing the lump in your throat,
feeling blessed your boyfriend likes you so much. “So let’s have kids then,” you
switch to your original plan, hoping for a positive outcome.
“No…I really don’t want to…” he makes
a comeback, stubborn and determined not to give in.
You gasp so loud it startles him:
“Are you…are you having an affair?”
“Wha’ ?! No, I’m not having an affair,”
he immediately defends himself , irked you would think something like that.
“Oh my God, you’re cheating on me,
aren’t you?” The crying starts again and you weep on his chest, soiling his
favorite Versage shirt with tears and makeup. “Is she prettier, more decent looking than me? You wanna
have kids with her and not with me?” you clench your fists on the fabric,
Dammit, why do you have to get like this every month? The Joker thinks, irritated.
“I’m not having an affair, OK?” he
lifts your chin up so he can look you in the eyes. All that mascara over your
face makes him cringe. “If you don’t stop crying I will really have an affair,
got it? I mean it! Stop crying, NOW!!” he requests with a pissed voice and you
gulp, suddenly holding your breath so you won’t make a sound because you don’t
want him cheating. You feel you need air and he watches quite amused how you
struggle to hold your breath, afraid to move. After a few good seconds you give
up and start breathing again.
“I’m not crying anymore, all right? “you kiss him, and since you don’t have any
tissue, you wipe your nose with your sleeve again and he gropes you, purring.
“I love classy girls, Doll, you’re so
classy,” he charges at your cleavage, not being able to control himself anymore and
not giving a damn about that mascara all over your cheeks.
You snicker, straddling his lap and
just have to say it:
“Jaayyy, come on, let’s have a baby,
or two or three, pleaseeee,” you pull his hair and scream when he bites your skin.
“Unless you really think I’m ugly,” you bottom lip quivers once more, your
happiness going downhill as fast as his enthusiasm for the subject. When he
sees the tears rolling down your face he has to get it together with all he’s
got in order to muster the words:
“Fine, we’ll have a baby,” he
bitterly mumbles, distressed.
Germany’s Vampire Killer Couple Daniel and Manuela Ruda
In 2000, 26 year old Daniel Ruda placed an ad in a local heavy metal magazine looking for a, “Pitch-black vampire seeks princess of darkness who hates everything and everyone and has bidden farewell to life.” Ruda was overjoyed when 23 year Manuela Bartel responded. The pair quickly moved in, they practiced satanism, avoided sunlight and slept in a coffin. On the 6th of June 2001, the pair married.
The murdered occurred on the 6th of July 2001, just a month after their marriage. The satanic couple lured friend Frank Hackert to theirs for a party, however he was the only one there. Once inside he was bludgeoned with a hammer and stabbed 66 times. Afterwards, the couple slit Hackert’s veins and drained his blood into bowls from which they drank. They then carved a pentagram into Hackert’s chest and left his body with a scalpel sticking straight up out of his torso. The couple then fled and purchased a chainsaw to do a surprise massacre, however the police caught them. Authorities found a kill list in their car.
At trial, the Rudas snarled, hissed, laughed, chewed gum, rolled their eyes, mocked Hackert’s mother, and repeatedly threw “devil horn” hand signs and made obscene finger gestures. When asked why, Daniel responded, “he was so funny he would be a perfect court jester for Satan!”
Daniel and Manuela Ruda were sentenced to psychiatric hospitals. Daniel is still serving time whilst Manuela was released in 2010.
Anything with debi and maybe Momo with there s/o anything really they don't have much DX THEY NEED LOVE
How about some possessiveness?
You sigh, leaning against the cold bricks of an alley wall. You cross your legs and stare at your cuticles before you look up at the three thugs gathered around you. They are leering down at your body. You can feel them undressing you with their eyes, and you look off to the side with a general bored expression.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here?” the one with the ponytail, leaning against the brick wall.
“Minding my business,” you sass.
Popping your gum, you roll your eyes. Your nose scrunches as the scent of cheap beer and cigarettes waft from one of them.
“Aw, come one, sweetheart. Don’t be like that,” the thug with the hat grins.
“Yeah, we just want to have a good time.”
The one with the nose ring reaches for you and his arm is consumed in black flames. You press your self tightly against the wall, closing your eyes and turning your face away from the fire. His screaming fills the alleyway as you smile, running up to Dabi. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest. You grin at the thugs who are looking at the two of you with faces of horror. Dabi raises his free hand, dark flames licking his fingertips.
“Keep your filthy hands off my girl.”
An inferno of dark fire erupts from his hands, effectively turning the three thugs into nothing but ash. Dabi looks down at the faint hickies littering your neck. They’re not dark enough. No where near dark enough. You will definitely be receiving some more tonight. He needs to make sure people know that your taken. If there’s one thing he hates, it’s sharing you.
You love looking at your girl. Everything about her is just so perfect to you. Her thick, shiny black hair. Her thick eyelashes and smooth skin and full lips. And those deep, deep brown eyes of hers. And your certain that every time you look at Yaoyorozu, you fall a little deeper in love.
She glances over at you when she sees you staring at her. She smiles, waving slightly. Damn, she so beautiful. You are supposed to be warming up, but you can’t stop looking at your gorgeous girlfriend and those beautiful legs of hers. Yaoyorozu smiles at you, and you feel your heart flutter.
You love noticing the little things about your girl. But you are the only that should be looking at your girl. Your eye twitches, noticing Mineta leering at Yaoyorozu’s leotard-clad body. Taking a throwing knife out of you your belt, you launch the blade towards his head. He squeak, feeling one of his balls being snatched. Another one pops back, but he looks at the purple ball pinned to the wall with your knife.
“You remember my Quirk, Bullseye, right?” you smile, drawing another blade from your belt, “Keep it up and next time it won’t be one of your little balls.”
You love admiring the beauty that is your Yaoyorozu, and you don’t like sharing what you consider yours.
Steve and You aren’t
close to being the same, you’re a ticking time bomb with an attitude to match your wild hair. A spy and a history with Nat, you aren’t open to many if anyone. But going under cover with Mr. America could
change everything for you, who knows what lies under all that anger, hostility,
cold attitude and brightly colored hair.