👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌there👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my self 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠOOOOOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit
The series is about Calum who unfortunately had gotten the reputation of a famous fuckboy and Y/N, an aspiring singer, get the job of pretending to be Calum’s girlfriend for 6 whole months because of her strong attitude. But still she finds it so hard to get along with the celebrity boy and it gets worse when she realises that she has no power herself. But who really have the power in the fake relationship?
Official summary:When Calum Hood needs to straighten up his reputation, there’s no other solution than to fake-date a powerful girl with a powerful voice.
omg i got so excited at it i can’t even….. ugh. not only because i got an another request but also because this is an amazing idea and i’m in love with this, i think i need to change some things that were a little unclear to me but i hope you will like it anyway
sorry if it’s too short to your liking, & please let me know what you think REQUESTS ARE O P E N
[Y/N] was a pretty 15 year old girl, who liked spending her free time in her dad’s work. Jim Gordon’s work. She’d go there everyday after school.
She wanted to work at the GCPD in the future, not as a cop, but as a doctor, just like Doctor Leslie Thompkins. [Y/N] was a very smart girl, so everybody believed she would accomplish her goal.
[Y/N] enjoyed being with Doctor Lee, and as you may wonder, Doctor Lee enjoyed being with [Y/N]. She reminded her of herself when she was younger, so she was happy to answer any questions this sweet girl had.
“Harvey! Do you know where Doctor Thompkins is?"
[Y/N]’s been looking for her, she wanted to watch her work, as always. At first she wasn’t sure if that’s okay with her but she said she enjoys her company, much to [Y/N]’s joy.
"I don’t know, kiddo, check the morgue.” Answered busy Harvey Dent petting her on the head and walking away.
[Y/N] was walking to the morgue as she heard two cops talking about Jerome Valeska. They didn’t have a chance to meet but she saw him, that day when they found his dead mother. Dead because of him.
His cult was trying to bring him back from the dead…
“Can you believe he’s lying in the morgue right now with no face on?!”
“Shut up, this is disgusting.”
[Y/N] could agree on that. It seriously gave her chills.
But still, it didn’t change the fact she wanted to see how he looked now. She would never admit it to anyone, but she thought he was kinda cute. When he had a face and was still breathing, though.
[Y/N] entered the room humming a song she always does.
“Doctor Le–” she stopped dead in her tracks.
Before her, Lee Thompkins sitting on a table, tied up, looking over her should to see who just came in, worry filled her eyes as she noticed it’s [Y/N]. And there it was Jerome Valeska, standing across from Doctor Lee, his face all bloody and bandaged smiling widely at [Y/N]. He was wearing something very skin-tight…
“Hi there. Care to join us, Sweetheart?” Jerome walked towards her.
Now as he took a better look at her, he noticed she looked younger than him.
“Don’t cha a little too young to work here?”
[Y/N] only shrugged and gulped as he started to tie her up and told her to sit beside Lee.
They looked at each other, Lee’s gaze looked like it was asking her “Why did you have to come here exactly right now?!”
Jerome not interested in Lee anymore, moved to kneel before the pretty girl and looked into her eyes.
“Do you know where is my face, Precious?”
She stared at him. “Yeah… I heard Dwight took it and that he wears it like a mask..” She made a disgusted face.
Jerome exhaled deeply. “At least he’s a handsome fella now.”
[Y/N] cracked a small smile trying not to giggle. She didn’t want Doctor Lee to think she’s stupid.
Jerome glanced back at Lee and then back to [Y/N] and cupped her cheek.
“Now tell me, what exactly are you doing here? You can’t possibly be working here, you look young. How old are you anyway, Sweet Cheeks?”
“Umm..” She was unsure if she should tell him but he had something in his eyes that screamed “tell me all about you!”
“I don’t work here, I’m 15 years old. My dad is working here.”
“Don’t tell him that [Y/N]!”
“[Y/N]? Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He smirked and reached for something to gag Doctor Lee. “Who’s your dad? I’m dying to know.”
He started laughing like crazy. “James Gordon! I can’t believe it! And Doctor here is still talking to you after what your father has done to her poor husband?” He burst in another laugh.
[Y/N] wanted to defend her dad but she knew there was no point.
“Ohhh you’re coming with me, Gorgeous! You’re too fun to be left here!” He started to untie her.
And she left with him. Just like that.
Doctor Lee waited for someone to rescue her, they needed to find [Y/N]. They needed to find Jerome.
But she could’t stop thinking about that one thing that was still disturbing her.
The adoration in young girl’s eyes when she looked at the Ginger.
Hello there, kiddos! Welcome to the second installment of my ghost Laurens au! To read the first chapter, clickity-click right here. There is, of course, some of that Good Ole Angst in this chapter because my crops needed it, but there’s some fluff, too, so buckle your angst seatbelt and take your toothbrush with you! ;))) (PS If you’re wondering where I am, the answer is homework, which is currently killing me just a lil bit. I read all of your messages, tho, and will reply asap! I love you kiddos so much!! <333)
PART TWO: The Laurens Interlude
“Alexander?” Eliza hovered in the doorway of the study at the Schuyler Mansion, where Philip Schuyler had set Alexander up to prepare for his upcoming bar exam, giving him full access to the law books Philip had amassed over the years.
“Hmm?” he hummed, not looking up from the many books and parchment covering the tiny desk in front of him.
“There’s a letter for you.” The way Eliza’s voice cracked went unnoticed by Alexander. The fact that she was personally delivering this letter also failed to strike him as odd, which it indeed was.
He glanced at the paper she’d extended to him, only catching the sender’s last name: Laurens.
“It’s from John Laurens. I’ll read it later.”
Eliza sighed. “No. It’s from his father.”
Alexander placed his quill in the nearly empty jar of ink. “His father?” He felt like the air had been knocked right out of him. His father. He took a shaky breath. “Will you read it?”
Eliza looked at the sealed letter, then into her husband’s eyes. She slowly nodded her head, breaking the red seal with a delicate finger. She opened the tri-folded letter, and Alexander noticed her hands were shaking ever so slightly.
“‘On Tuesday, the 27th, my son was killed in a gunfight against British troops retreating from South Carolina. The war was already over. As you know…”
The words began to jumble together in Alex’s head. He could hear his sweet Eliza’s voice, he could see her holding the letter, the tremor in her hands growing worse as she read on, but he could not make sense of any of it.
The words my son was killed were the only thing echoing in his mind. They took up every corner, every atom of his brain. They were loud, incessant, yet he still refused to believe them, to believe that Laurens, his Laurens, was gone.
“Alexander,” Eliza said, the letter gently placed on his desk, her hand even more gently placed on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”
A million responses came to Alexander’s mind, but none of them were adequate. No. He knew there would never be a word, an emotion, an expression, that was strong enough to explain how he felt.
He shrugged his wife, whom he loved, whom he loathed to see so worried, so sad, off of his shoulder and heard himself respond, “I have so much work to do.”
What Alexander and Eliza didn’t know was that John Laurens was in the Schuyler Mansion. That he had been, in fact, since the moment he died. He’d spent the first few days trailing Alexander, watching him study, watching him adore his sleeping son, joke with his father-in-law.
He also watched Eliza. At first he was jealous of her. He didn’t want to be, but he couldn’t help it. He watched, heart aching, as she snuggled up close to Alexander at night, as Alexander lovingly pet her hair and showered her with gentle kisses.
But he also watched as she fretted over Alexander, much in the same way John had taken to by the time they’d reached Yorktown. It’d been one thing for John himself to be self-destructive. It was an entirely different thing when it was Alexander. Especially after… After. After John had realized how he felt. After he realized Alexander wasn’t the only one who felt more than friendship blooming between them.
It was in watching Eliza worry much like John had, like John still did, that he began to like her, then love her, all within the space of a few hours, really. It was both because he had little else to do other than watch her and her gentle ways, and because she was just that sweet and charming a person.
Lastly, he studied little Philip. He couldn’t help the grin that broke across his face when Alexander held his son, tears still gathering in his eyes even though Philip was seven months old. He knew it was because Alexander was so happy, so relieved, to have a family. It’d been all he’d ever wanted.
Who was John to loath the fact that Alexander could not build that family with him?
It was around his third day there that something peculiar happened. Eliza was sitting in the informal parlor, casually chatting with her mother while doing some needlework, baby Philip in the wooden cradle at Eliza’s feet. John had taken a seat on the floor next to the cradle, mesmerized by the way Eliza expertly moved the needle. He hadn’t even been paying attention to Philip, so he was shocked to find that Philip had been paying attention to him.
“Ah!” Philip exclaimed, a chubby arm flying up in John’s direction.
John didn’t think much of it, though. Nobody, not even baby Catherine, had seen him in all his days lurking about the mansion. So why would Philip be any different?
“Ah!” Philip grabbed the side of the cradle, trying to sit up. Eliza quickly bent down to help him before returning to her stitching.
Philip’s brown eyes were trained directly on John.
“You… you can see me?” John whispered, although he wasn’t sure why. He knew nobody could hear him.
“Ah!” Philip said again, clapping his hands together, a toothless smile overtaking his face.
Eliza smiled down at her son. “Someone is a happy baby,” she giggled. She scooped him up and cuddled him close to her.
Even in his mother’s arms, Philip didn’t stop looking at John.
John timidly waved at the baby, who erupted into the purest laughter John had ever heard. He started making funny faces, doing jigs and other dances around the room. He even stepped through the wall once or twice. This elicited the loudest giggles from Philip.
He kept this up until Philip’s eyes began to flutter shut, until Eliza softly laid him back down in the cradle. John sat down next to the cradle once again and smiled at the small occupant.
Suddenly, being in the Schuyler Mansion wasn’t so bad after all.
True Fluff Series Word Count: 1110 Summary: Dean and the reader’s first Thanksgiving together is a roller-coaster day. Warnings: The usual sickeningly sweet fluff associated with this never-ending series.
sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. she loved nothing so well as tales of knightly valor. men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than i ever was, you can see that. i often sent away her maid so i could brush her hair myself. she had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft… the red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper.
It should have been Brandon. Charming, witty, intelligent, quick
tempered and rash Brandon. Brandon was who received all the training, sitting
in on their father’s meetings and learning to rule directly from the King in
the North, Rickard VII.
A single car crash changed all of that. The driver had a heart attack at the
wheel, barreling into a barricade and crash landing into a ravine.
Okay, but guys I can’t express to you all enough how excited I am to finally see Donato in action - at his creepiest in the series. And Ishida’s characterization of Donato in this scene so far has been fantastic, because he manages to make Donato frighten us even after all the recent bloodshed in the series while still reminding the reader of his more sensitive/personal side.
Just in that phrase “Taste how it feels. How I feel.” In that short quip, Donato manages to fit in a megalomaniac comparison of himself to God and his personal, vulnerable emotions about Amon.
Because the metaphor of Urie, crucified, watching from above certainly implies a God-like presence. (Without the power to intervene, it sounds more deist than Catholic, tbh. but I’ll let Donato pass on this one.) And in a way, he himself has watched over others in his priestly role. By running the orphanage, he always had that burden of caring for children in the name of God. However, the scene also indirectly references Donato’s seeming omniscience when it comes to the ghoul world, as Donato knew a notable amount of information about the events outside Cochlea despite having been imprisoned for years. Hinami’s intelligence became obsolete by the time of the second Cochlea raid. Donato’s, though, was still relied upon despite remaining in Cochlea for maybe a decade or longer. So, Donato himself has embodied throughout the series the Godly traits his metaphor in this scene emphasizes.
However, at the same time, that knowledge he accumulated couldn’t do anything to save Amon. He had to sit there and hear about his son’s capture, ghoulification, and possible death without the ability to protect or shelter him. It most likely felt like the equivalent to what he’s doing to Urie now: torturing the entrapped person’s loved one - one he’s been entrusted to take care of, as Uncle Higemaru’s monologue just highlighted - right in front of his eyes while he’s immobilized. And while Donato’s thirst for revenge is pretty prominent here, you can see that frustration with his own limitations, too.
And that’s why I love those two sentences. Because they seem to present the reader with two seemingly contradictory meanings. It confuses you on whether to think of Donato as an omnipotent God or as a fallible mortal. And I think that’s what makes him one of the most terrifying types of villains.