Wrong hand? No, I’m wearing it on the right hand. Everyone else wears their rings on the wrong hand. If people got confused, it’s because they’re silly for not doing things the Russian way! (Although the Japanese way of doing things is good, too!)
Walking into the bunker felt strange. Because, you thought you’d never return to it. It felt amazing, relieving but unreal at the same time. You were excited to meet your brothers again, even though already knowing how their reaction would be. First they would be relieved and then they would be angrier than you probably ever seen them. You knew, because you would feel the same way.
You had just gone after Amara, all by yourself. Because, your brothers refused to act, and you all were just sitting ducks. And well, you came up with your own plan, and left when they were sleeping. Everything had gone as planned, except that you didn’t expect to come out alive.
You walked quietly through the large hall of the bunker, towards one of the hallways. But when you turned the corner, you were splashed with something in the face. You instantly staggered back, shocked, with water in your eyes and your mouth.
When you had collected yourself and wiped some water out of your eyes and off your face, you opened your eyes to see Sam staring at you with round eyes.
“Holy water? Thanks for that. Now my makeup is all over the place.” You annoyedly declared, looking like a wet, angry, cat.
“Y/N, is it really you?”
Right. Before you left, you had informed Cas about your plans and told him to tell your brothers some time later, so that they didn’t have time to go after you. He must’ve done so, because Sam definitely didn’t think you were you.
Before he could say anything, Dean showed up behind him. Firstly he hugged you, just walked up to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your neck and back. Then, he broke it off, giving you a slight shove. Not hard, of course, but enough to make a point.
“What the hell were you thinking?! We thought you died!” He exploded, yelling at you.
“Look, I just saved the world. Give me a break.” You frowned, actually feeling exhausted. Yes, you came out alive, but you were quite banged up from the whole experience.
Sam sighed, shoulders drooping. “Yeah, you’re right. And we’re soimpressed, Y/N. Really. You did great, just…”
“Just don’t ever do that to us again.” Dean filled in, sounding stern.
But then, his angry expression broke into a shy smile, just barely there. You noticed it instantly though.
I know the backstory is a bit wobbly, I just quickly came up with some big-bad from the series, so yeah.
Baz has recently learnt Dutch and has decided to practice it, to Simon’s sorrow.
Note: I don’t speak Dutch, so I asked my friend Google for help. Please don’t cringe at the weird expressions. Also, I regret nothing
He’s done it again. Baz has found a new way to torment me.
“Ik vind je heel mooi,” he says as I step into our room, which I guess means something like “I wish you were dead”.
“Yeah, you too,” I tell him. “Moron.”
I go to my bed and take my shirt off. It’s so hot in here, lately.
“Lekker ding,” Baz continues with his insults.
“That would be you,” I reply, as I change into my pyjamas.
He lets out a short, mischievous laugh. “You don’t know what I said.”
“I don’t need to speak German to know that you’re insulting me.”
“Please, Snow, it’s Dutch.”
“Whatever,” I say, going into bed.
“Slaap lekker schatje,” Baz says, and it must mean “may you never wake up again” or something similar.
“Same for you,” I retort. I have to learn Dutch.
Baz has taken it to the next level. A higher level of irritation. Now every time he insults me in Dutch his mouth quirks into a naughty smile and his eyes glint devilishly.
For example, today he bumped into me from behind in the corridor and said “lekker kontje”, right into my ear. He uses the word “lekker” a lot when insulting me. I guess it means “idiot” or “stupid” or “stupidly idiot”.
“Fuck you,” I said.
“Ja, ik wil dat je doen precies dat,” he said back, with that stupid sparkle in his eyes. He stood there for a few seconds—terribly close—and then left me there, alone and confused.
Later, in class, he spent the whole hour looking at me from the other end of the classroom. Stormy grey eyes locked on mine. Plotting, for sure. So I stared back. When the lesson ended he approached me and whispered “mooie ogen”. Another insult, I guessed. So I snapped back “Are you describing yourself?”
Baz smirked and winked an eye at me. What the fuck. That’s when I realized that I really need to learn Dutch.
So now I’m with Anna, an exchange student from the Netherlands, and she’s going to teach me her language. I’ll be able to finally respond to Baz’s insults with a proper comeback.
We spend all night until I have a general grasp of the basics. Bless her patience.
The next day I come into our room as Baz emerges from the shower.
“Ik heb je gemist,” he says, water dripping off his hair. Okay I know that “ik” means “I” and “je” means “you”. No clue about the rest. It must be something like “I want you gone” or “I want you dead”.
“Likewise,” I retort.
His lips quirk mischievously and there’s that annoying glint in his eyes again.
I step towards his direction. There’s a drop of water falling down his face.
He looks at me enigmatically and says “Ik hou van je.” I something you . “I hate you”, I suppose. Or “I loathe you” or “I despise you” or “I’d spit on you”.
“Yeah, the feeling is mutual,” I reply.
I swear his eyes flicker to my lips.
“Ik wil graag smijt je tegen de muur…” Baz starts. Fuck, I’m not understanding anything. I have to ask Anna to meet tonight again. “…en kus je.”
Wait. “What?” I ask him, inching closer. I follow the path of the water drop with my eyes. It’s now on his jawline.
“What.” He freezes.
“What did you say?” I step even nearer. Our faces are almost touching.
He doesn’t respond. I can feel his breath on my face. Hard and heavy. He’s nervous.
I’m actually pretty sure he said “kiss you”. I place a hand on his chest.
The drop is now on his neck. So I tilt my head down and, slowly, I touch the drop with my mouth. “You mean…” I say, tracing kisses up his neck and jawline. He moans softly. “Like…” I continue, lips now on his cheek. I spare a moment to look at him. Our lips are almost brushing. I can feel his heart beating fast against my hand. “This?” I say and I close the distance before he can answer.
Our mouths clash and move over one another. Fiercely. Baz parts his lips and my tongue finds his.
I wonder how long he’s wanted this. I wonder how long I’ve wanted this.
I’m kissing Baz. I kiss him until my lips are sore.
“We should probably go to class,” Baz says after a while.
“Mmhm,” I say against his mouth, but don’t move an inch. “I’d rather practice Dutch with you.”
I move my lips to his neck again and suck the skin in there.
“Hup, Simon,” he says. “Werk aan de winkel.”
Somehow we make it to the second lesson.
I go to my usual seat with Penny, Agatha and Anna. Baz goes with Dev and Niall.
“Simon!” Penny cries. “What happened? Where were you?”
“Did Baz do anything to you?” Agatha asks, slightly worried.
“Yeah… he wouldn’t let me go,” I answer.
“You wouldn’t let me go, Snow,” Baz says from the other end of the class.
Crowley, Baz, is that a hickey?”
“Shut up, Niall.” Baz’s face is burning red.
“Fuck a nine-toed-troll, Simon!” Penny shouts. Eyes big with surprise behind her pointy glasses.
“Wait,” Agatha follows. “You and Baz…?”
“Is that why you needed Dutch lessons?” Anna asks.
I look at Baz. He nods slightly at me and cracks a smile. I smile back at him.
“Yes,” I shrug at the girls. “We’re together.”
Baz decides to run from Dev and Niall’s questions and seat right next to me. “One kiss and you think we’re happy boyfriends?” he sneers.
“Two kisses,” I say and I kiss him again.
Translation of phrases:
Ik vind je heel mooi = I think you’re really beautiful
Lekker ding = yummy thing
Slaap lekker schatje = sleep well darling
lekker kontje = nice arse
lekker = yummy
Ja, ik wil dat je doen precies dat = yes, I want you to do precisely that
mooie ogen = beautiful eyes
Ik heb je gemist = I missed you
Ik hou van je = I love you
Ik wil graag smijt je tegen de muur en kus je = I want to throw you against the wall and kiss you
Hup, Simon. Werk aan de winkel = Go on, then. Carry on, Simon.
Ari: Okay, turns out I LOVE Dutch (sorry about any language inconsistencies) I had fun writing this. Hope you like it! :D
HEY hi I love all your imagine and they make me melt inside and UGH Anyways my request is maybe a prince!Shawn falling in love with a maid!Reader and those two working out a way to get married <3 thank you love you
Alright people, this one is about to be hella cheesy as hell and I’m not mad about it. As you know I try to be as realistic as possible with these imagines, but, this was something fun to write so love it or hate it, I thought it was damn entertaining. Love you all ❤
‘Okay, Y/N. You finish making the prince’s bed, I need to get started on the master sweet for the king and Queen.’ My co worker and friend, Maria, smiled at me.
'Have a grand ole time doing that.’ I chuckled, fluffing up the prince’s pillow. She rolled her eyes, before leaving room and shutting the door behind her.
I sighed in content, looking around his room. I checked my watch, seeing it was almost 2 o'clock which meant the prince was almost done with his duties and that I could see him for a few minutes.
Being in a secret relationship with a prince whilst I worked here was a very unsuspected. I never thought I’d fall for him, but, his amazing personality with those beautiful, brown, soft curls with the brown orbs to match, it was impossible.
The only surprise though, was one night when everyone was asleep and I was working late, he kissed me and told me he was falling for me. I, of course, told him I felt the same way, our relationship being secretive ever since.
It had been 8 months since that night and I’d never been happier.
I heard the door open as I turned around, seeing his beautiful face appear, a grin planted on his face.
'Shawn…’ I sighed, running towards him as I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly, feeling him wrap his arms around my waist tightly, holding me as close as he could.
'I’ve missed you and it’s only been one day.’ He mumbled in my hair, grabbing my face and kissing me passionately. I sighed, lifting my hand to touch his wrist, holding it gently.
I pulled away, resting my forehead against his. 'I’m never going to get sick of kissing you.’ I chuckled, caressing his face with my hand.
'You don’t have to,’ he smiled, grabbing my other hand, staring down at me. 'I’ve been thinking, Y/N, what’s stopping us from getting married?’ My eyes widened, staring at him in admiration.
'Shawn, your country and your parents…you have to think of them too. They wouldn’t want the help being married to you.’ I reasoned, giving him a half hearted smile.
'I don’t care what my parents want. My people, they’ll learn to love you and accept you for who you are. Y/N, we can do this!’ He grabbed my shoulders, staring at me.
'What if they don’t? What if I’m not good enough? Think about it, Shawn.’ I grabbed his forearms, biting my lip.
'Then I’ll give up my title.’ He concluded. I frowned at him, stepping away from him.
'Shawn, you do that and I’ll never forgive you. You can’t just say no to what you’re born to do.’
'I’m born to find happiness and you make me happy.’ He grabbed my face, holding it in his hands. 'Please, Y/N…’ he lowered to the floor, getting down on one knee and staring up at me. My eyes began to water, my heart thumping in my chest. 'I know that I have a title that will forever follow me around until the day that I die, that I have to take care of a country and place that is my home and you may not be a princess or royalty…but to me - to me you are so much more then any of that. I can’t promise you a fairytale wedding, but I can promise you my heart. Please, Y/N Y/L/N, will you do me the greatest honour of becoming my princess?’
I let out a chuckle, tears cascading down my cheeks, my heart warming at the sight of him. 'When you put it like that…’ I joked, grabbing his hand. 'Yes. One thousand times, yes.’ I exclaimed, jumping on him, kissing his lips.
He held me tightly, the kiss starting to get a little more heated as I heard the door open, pulling away immediately to see his mother and father, standing outside the door.
'Son, what is the meaning of this?’ His father asked, shock and a mixture of utter confusion on his face.
'Father, I can explain everything…Y/N and I-’
'I don’t want to hear this, son.’ His mother interjected, anger planted on her features. 'With the help? If all people…’
'If you’ll just listen to me-’
'How long has this facade being going on, Shawn?’ His father asked, standing closer to us. Shawn put his arm out in front of me, almost as if he was protecting me.
'8, glorious and happy months. Haven’t you noticed since I’ve been seeing Y/N secretly I’ve wanted to go to the events you make me go to, I want to do the balls, galas and anything else you can rope me in to. Knowing I have someone to come home to that can make me feel normal for even just five minutes is what I want in my life. Which, is why I’ve asked her to marry me.’ Shawn sighed, staring at his parents shocked facial expressions. I remained quite, feeling small and helpless in this situation. 'I don’t care what you say; Y/N makes me happy and loved, I wouldn’t have it any other way.’
'That is out of the question.’ His mother dismissed. 'The press would have a field day of the fact that our son, in only a years time to be crowned King of our country, is playing fairytales with the maid, who is not of royal blood.’ She glared at me, her features serious and terrifying. 'You’re fired. Pack your things and leave as of immediately.’
I closed my eyes and sighed, knowing this was bound to happen. 'Yes, you’re majesty.’ I bowed my head down, going to move around Shawn before he stopped me.
'She doesn’t go anywhere. She stays here, with me or we both leave.’
'Are you threatening us?’ His father bellowed, getting closer to his son, who was taller than him by only a few centimetres.
'You’re not being fair. You’re sticking to tradition which can always be changed, starting a brand new tradition of not having to marry royal blood to be royal can be something that can connect us with the people more.’
'Shawn! Stop with this nonsense! You’ve left me no choice but to do this the hard way.’
'Shawn,’ I whispered, touching his shoulder, 'it’ll be alright, sweetheart. You’re going to have to let me do this, please.’
'No, you’re not leaving me. I need you.’ He turned around, grabbing me and pulling me into his chest.
My eyes widened, feeling panic starting to erupt in my stomach and throat. I heard the stampede of feet hitting the ground as four guards made it to Shawn’s room.
Shawn gripped onto me tighter. 'I order you to stand back.’ Shawn warned, the guards now conflicted on if they should follow the current king or soon to be king. 'Take one more step near us and when I’m king, you’ll be returning your amour.’
'Shawn, stop being childish!’ His mother ordered.
'I’m not being childish! You are! I’m trying to be happy, to have some normality, please let me have some normality in my life. I love her, mother.’ Shawn kissed the top of my head, whilst I felt the first tear fall since this conversation. 'Please, don’t make me lose the one thing that makes me happy.’
His mother stared at me before sighing, 'Come here, child.’ She ordered me, making my palms sweat. I let go of Shawn, walking slowly over to her, curtsying in front of her. 'Do you love my son?’
'With all my heart, your majesty.’ I answered honestly.
'You’re willing to give up your normality to live this life?’
'Yes.’ I answered without hesitation. She stood closer to me, giving me a small smile.
'I’ll have to train you to be the best princess you can. There’s no backing out of this now.’
I nodded, feeling my eyes water in happiness.
'Is she truly the one you love, son?’ His father asked, staring between the two of us.
'Yes, father.’ Shawn gripped my hand, intertwining our fingers. 'She’s the only one for me.
'Then you have our blessing.’
Those were the only words I needed to hear. I could finally marry the man that I loved and who I’ll always love.
“Come on sweet cheeks just get me a bottle of water, please” Dolph gave me his biggest smile as I blushed”
“Fine” I shot him my biggest smile then went to do as he asked
“(y/n)” Sami yelled at me from down the hall “where you off to?”
“I’m just getting a water for Dolph” I turned into catering to grab a bottle. I turned to see Sami looking at me oddly “what?” I asked as I headed back to we’re Dolph was waiting
“I just don’t know why you are still on that” He waved his hands in front of his face as I laughed
“Of course I am, he’s so handsome and sweet, and I’m telling you he likes me back, I’m sure” I gave him a quick smile before heading back, stopping to turn back “We still going to the next town together?”
“Yeah, of course” He waved back before I headed back to Dolph. Not seeing the scowl on his face as I walked off.
Summary: When Castiel goes off to be God, thanks to the Leviathans, he abandons his sister (Y/N). When Y/N is captured, things go very wrong. Her grace is taken and Y/N is now human and has no idea what to do…
Pairings: Castiel x sister!reader, Dean x reader, (mentioned): Sam and Bobby
Warnings: angst, language, fluff, violence?, Dean being a flirt (yes this is a warning because have you seen him)
Word Count: 1075 sorry not sorry :D
A/N: This was written for @luci-in-trenchcoats Michelle’s 2k follower celebration. My prompt is in bold. This is my first write, so I hope you like it. Also, this isn’t beta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Flashbacks are in italics.
Sorry this took so long, I’m also working on requests along with dealing with some other things right now so I’m hoping you don’t mind?? Btw the poem was written by me. Thank you, I hope you enjoy this <3
“For fuck’s sake Namjoon,” You snapped as you walked from the balcony again to the front of your living room where someone was pounding ruthlessly on your door.
“You’re going to break my fucking door down.” You mumbled angrily as you unlocked the door, only to find the last person you’d ever want to be in your apartment.
Now that the excitement over the sunshine was wearing off, I began to realize how entirely unprepared I was for the pulsing heat. No amount of water, ice, undress or fan could make up for the fact that I was simply unaccustomed to weather this hot. The humidity made my hair frizzy, I had sunburn on my arms and shoulders, and my patience was at an all time low.
My mind is not a machine.
If I could simply drive it into a car wash
have it scrubbed clean of its dirt
believe you me; I would.
If I could re-paint my mind to remove the scratches that litter it,
I’d paint it yellow.
I’d paint it with happy thoughts,
with happy memories,
But a deep black would always be underneath.
You may not notice it,
but everytime I sit into it,
the black interior would swallow me,
a black hole that there is no escape from.
I could remove the old battered engine,
filled with angry hurtful words,
and replace it with brand new,
reflecting happiness bright enough to blind me,
but it would still cut out.
I will still stall without warning,
as the radio blasts my eardrums with happy happy happy love and hope,
the car will jerk and the airbags will deploy.
A slap in the face from reality itself.
A slap in the face from my own reality.
A reality that doesn’t really exist,
one where even though I am the creator,
I am never the hero,
forever the sad background character,
‘Girl #4 In Lunchroom’
(even though she’s not eating because her nerves won’t allow it).
But I still drive into the car wash.
The spinning cleaners begin to close in
and their insidious whispers grow louder.
Water blocks my escape routes,
the soap coats any source of sunlight,
making everything dark
My stubby nails digging into my palms remind me that the sun is still there
it hasn’t fallen
just a few more seconds and it will be safe again
just trust me
it’s just beyond this darkness
just beyond this fear
just beyond this suffocation
keep breathing, why aren’t you breathing?
No, that’s not how it works, is it?
Clench a fist.
Clench the other.
It’s still dark.
The chemicals create pictures on the glass,
swirls and dots and blobs,
hypnotising me until I close my eyes,
but the water still escapes and now my face is wet.
I need to get out.
No you don’t.
I clench my fits sixty-five,
The cleaners get closer still
and my chest tightens with them.
But then they come to a halt.
The sun returns and even though it burns my red eyes,
I have never been more thankful to feel.
- “Spring Cleaning Isn’t For Brains” - poem by @wearyneutral (me)
Request: Can a scenario of Jin proposing to long
time girlfriend in an exotic place. I imagine it funny, romantic, and unique.
Fluff / Romance
Seokjin played with the sleeves of his suit jacket
nervously, his hands went up to his necktie and undid it a bit before he
reminded himself that he had to stay put and fixed it again. He never thought
he could be so nervous, but he was. The weight of the little black velvet box
inside the left pocket of his jacket was clearer than ever for him.
-Tonight’s the night Seokjin - he said to himself
under his breath, bringing back some confidence. He had planned this carefully and he hoped you’d like every second of the evening, he was aiming for it.
Jin was sitting on the edge of the bed, the hotel room
was faintly lit while he waited for you to get ready. His phone rang,
distracting him from his thoughtful state. He picked it up and didn’t even have
time to answer properly before a mix of joyful voices blurted messy greetings and
encouraging words on the other end of the line.
-Boys…- Jin laughed dearly. –One at once please- he
heard fuzz and mumbling, and then Jimin was the first one to speak.
-Hyung hyung, you got this!- the boy was going to say
something but the phone was taken away from him –Jin hyung, fighting!- he could
recognize Hoseok, Taehyung and Jungkook this time, all of them screaming in
-Remember to breath – That was Yoongi’s voice who
started to laugh along with Namjoon. Seokjin laughed as well at their words and
relaxed, he had talked with the latter two about his plans, asking for help
with few details so obviously, the younger ones were also aware of Jin making
the question of his life tonight.
-Thank you guys, I’ll let you all know ab…- Seokjin didn’t finish his sentence
because at that time you came out of the bathroom. He stared at you
mesmerized, the boys were saying things to him on the phone but he didn’t pay
attention and hung up with his eyes still fixed on you.
You gave him a little smile and touched the recently
done waves on the tips of your hair, looking at him with expectation. You had a
long chiffon dress of a light pink color, the bottom was longer at the back and
it arrived at your knees on the front. The dress was Seokjin’s personal pick for
you. –How do I look?-
A/N: Hello there everybody. How’s it
going ? This is part 13 and it’s a very exciting one. I couldn’t wait to finally write it. You can find all previous parts + other imagines here.
It was once again raining heavily. A
fresh April rain. The grass and tress were green again. Month nine
was a tricky one, filled with cramps and a hurting back. I was
constantly tired and maybe a bit grumpier than usual. It just took me
a lot of energy to waddle around like I had to. Gladly everything was
already prepared for Boo’s arrival. Dan’s family went back to
Berkshire two weeks ago, after their friendly visit. Speaking of my
soon to be husband, he was currently hosting the British Music
Awards. Not just the international live stream that they took over
the past couple years, Phil and him were actually presenting the
thing live on television. It was unbelievable to see them on TV. To
me they are just Dan and Phil not danisnotonfire and Amazingphil, the
famous youtubers and radio hosts.
They were both wearing formal black
suits, but their clothing had a touch of their uniqueness.I was cuddled up in front of the TV
obviously watching the award show. They announced a lot of huge
global artist but I only had eyes for Dan. He looked freaking
handsome in his suit. They were joking around a lot and the audience
loved them although their comments could get pretty weird.
“The next award is going to be
presented by-” I heard Phil’s slight Northern Accent announce.
But before I could hear the end of the
sentence a sharp pain rushed through my stomach. It was like horrible
period cramps but a million times worse. I obviously started to
panic, my hands were shaking and sweat formed on my forehead. ‘This
is normal. Calm down.’ I told myself while I curled up into a ball of
pain. I dialled my friend Louise’s number.
“FUC-K, I have really bad cramps.”
I shouted into the telephone as soon as she picked up.
It took her only seconds to react, once
she had shoved her surprise away.
“Okay, take a deep breath in and then
breath out again. How much time till the calculated date of birth?”
she asked her voice soft unlike mine.
“Seven days.” I answered
breathlessly, like I had just ran 10 Miles.
“Where is Dan ?” she wanted to
“Turn on the TV.” I managed to
Seconds later I heard noises in the
background. Louise had turned up her TV to see Dan hosting the Brits.
“Okay,Y/N. Don’t freak out but if the
contractions get more intense, you might be going into labour.”
Louise told me as calm as possible.
“No,they have stopped– SHIT.”
I wrapped my shaking arms over my belly
again. Never in my life had I felt such intense pain. It felt like my
whole uterus was on fire right now. By now drops of sweat dribbled
down my forehead.
Then all of a sudden I felt something I
had never experienced before. I didn’t know what was happening but as
I looked down I saw that my pants were wet. It wasn’t quite like in
the movies where a gush of water shoots out of one’s lady parts. But
there was quite some water running down my legs right now. My eyes
widened in shock.
“Louise.” I shouted “My water
just broke !”
“The next live performance is coming
up. It’s Adele with her new song 'When we were young.'”
I announced to the sold out O2 Arena
where the award show was held. Loud applause erupted and the music
started playing. Phil and I quickly headed backstage for a costume
change. I gulped down some water and switched jackets. Adele had just
thanked the crowd once again. The cue for us to go on stage.
“Lovely performance.” Phil
We joked around just like we had
rehearsed it for a couple of minutes before we continued.
“The next award is for Best British
Group and will be presented-” I was interrupted in the middle of my
A woman wearing huge head phones and
carrying a clipboard appeared on stage. She quickly ran towards us.
The audience started talking curiously all eyes glued to the short
She walked right towards me.
“We just got a call. Your
girlfriend’s water broke. She is on the way to the hospital.” she
told me as soon as she had reached me.
Holy shit ! My head started spinning. It
was happening. Right now. I needed to leave. The baby shouldn’t be
born without be being there. Oh, crap. Y/N is probably panicking so
much at moment. Wait,I’m panicking.
Phil rushed over to me, a concerned look
on his face. The talking of the audience has gotten even louder, now
that my face has gone completely pale. I nervously ran my hands
through my hair over and over again.
“Everything alright ?” my best
“Y/N, is going into labour.”
Phil gasped. He was as taken aback as
“Can you do this on your own ?” I
asked thinking fast.
He just gave me a reassuring nod.
I rushed off stage as fast as I could.
Never in my life had I ran at such speed. As I made my way through
the arena I heard Phil’s voice through the speakers.
“It looks like I’m going to host this
show alone now, unless any of you wants to join. My co host Dan is on
his way to the hospital because his fiancé has gone into labour.
Good luck to both of them. Like I know Dan he is probably going to pass out.”
The audience gasped in awe and started
clapping, screaming and laughing at Phil’s last comment. It was a
joke to them but I can tell you it wasn’t a joke to me.
There was a cab already waiting for me
outside. I jumped into it.
“To the Charring Cross Hospital, as
fast as possible please.” I shouted.
The driver nodded and the car took off.
It drove as fast as my heart was beating.
There is cold, wet gravel under Tim Drake’s cheek when he hits the ground and the armor that protects his ribs from the blow reminds him that he is not Tim Drake with a broken gas mask, he is Red Robin.
But the mask is broken and the tendrils of fear toxin curling around his face remind of a time when he was Robin. A time when Scarecrow wasn’t climbing inside his brain, but when he donned a mask and saved the Bat from a similar fate.
That was when he stopped being just Tim Drake.
But he’s not Robin now either.
And Red Robin is about fifteen seconds away from being nothing more than a shrieking sack of bones and guts, based on the level of toxicity he’d measured before his gas mask broke.
featuring: reader + most of NCT will make an appearance at one point
word count: 3K
Be careful of wolves in sheep’s clothing, Y/N.
Be careful of wolves in sheep’s
Be careful of wolves.
These words had not left my
brain in the last three days. I hadn’t spoken to Ten since that night although
I did occasionally catch glimpses of him and Johnny walking around the club. To
my relief, neither of them even bothered to acknowledge my existence. I was
still incredibly upset at the fact that Ten had essentially told me I had severe
daddy issues which made me crave male attention. No wonder I’d never seen him
or heard of him dating anyone; despite being insanely attractive, he wasn’t
exactly a charmer.