shrug ruffles

So Art Deco- Sub!Yoongi(m)

Originally posted by yoonkooks

(m)- mature, (f)- fluff, (a)- angst

The best experiences can come from giving up control… 

Req: thank you for opening requests!! ahh could I have something sub!suga?

Req: Sorry if you’ve already done this and I haven’t seen, but could you do a Yoongi smut where he asks you to dom and cuff him to the bed and shit? Possibly with praise kink? There isn’t enough sub Yoongi in this world 

A/N: Okay, so for the second request it is altered a bit, there is no cuffing and no bed so, but I hope you still enjoy. Much love~~

“Y/N?” His careful voice breaches the still silence in your ears, the pastel dropping from between your fingers and a gasp freeing from your lips, open in concentration.

“Yoongi?” You grope for the blindfold around your eyes until you can untie the ribbon from your head, pupils dilating in the harsh light of the empty art room, Yoongi standing just beyond the door with a funny look on his face.

“What are you doing?” The corners of his lips are turned up in an expressive smirk, gesturing to the pastel on the floor, then to the silk tie in your hands.  

“I swear if you make any gross jokes-”

“It was just a question.” He throws his hands up, slowly coming round so he can get a better view of your canvas, a cacophony of bright color and intricately woven shapes. “That looks really great. I’m sure the professor will love it as soon as he sees it.”

You shake your head. “It still needs a lot of work. Which is why,” you wave the tie in your hands, “I have this.”

“…for color blocking?”

“No, you dumbass, then I wouldn’t have been wearing it.” You give him a wan look, turning back to your artwork. “I use it when I’m blocked. I can see shapes better in the complete darkness, then just let my hand create them without my eyes to overcomplicate the process.”

“God, I’ve been blocked like crazy lately.” Yoongi jokes, throwing down his bag. “Maybe I should try it.”

“You should.” You nod, all serious. “It sounds so weird, but it’s honestly great.”

“Let me try then.” He shrugs, nonchalantly, ruffling his hair.

Widening your eyes in surprise, you kick away your scattered books and replace your canvas with a fresh one from the easel beside you, clearing the space and stepping back to give him room to set himself up.  

“Don’t be nervous.” You smirk at how he eyes the dark tie you’re holding out, while motioning for him to sit in the chair you’d been occupying.

“I kind of am.” He satires, looking up at you. “What if you take advantage of me?”

“Oh please.” You roll your eyes in exaggeration, covering his and tying a knot loosely at the back of his head, making sure it pulls on the strands of his silky hair just for good measure. “Like I’m interested.”

The corners of his lips turn up again, so minutely you almost miss it, swallowing as you take your favorite pastel from the box and set it in his open palm. “It’s Robin’s Egg Blue.” You inform him. “What shape does that make you think of?”

“It doesn’t make me think of a shape.” He says factually.

You lick your lips, letting go of his wrist and stepping back. “Then just draw.”

His hand stretches out to blindly reach for the paper, holding back your mocking laugh as he misses it by a good foot to the right, swiping the air with the pastel like a drunk. “Help me out a little.” He deadpans, and you just know that his eyes would be thin and unamused if you could see them.

With a shake of your head, you grip his thin wrist, the veins showing along his hands and forearms as you swivel it left, stopping once he’s made contact. “There you go, solider.” You give a firm shake of your head although he can’t see it. “Now, you can go ahead and start.”

“I don’t really know what I’m doing.” He admits, making a streak down the canvas at a 45 degree angle, doing the same on the other side until they meet at a round point in the center, slightly askew from the blind contour.

“Just let your subconscious do it for you.”

“I don’t know…” He trails, yet his lines keep going, lips slightly puckered in concentration.

“Talk to me. How do you feel? What are you feeling? How does what you’re drawing make you feel?”

His bowed lips purse in thought, making a slope in the center of his conjoined lines. “Joy…?” He begins, somewhat questioningly. “Amusement. Affection. Laughter… Lust.”  

You smooth down your skirt, leaning against the table behind you so you can observe his progress, watching every stroke and every brush of color that he unknowingly makes turn into form and face.

Your lips part in amazed appreciation for his skill, letting a finger trail over your features as he draws them from memory. “Yoongi…”

“Yeah?” His voice is quiet with focus.

“It looks perfect.”

“What is it?”

You come around and bend next to him, taking in the puckered concentration on his proportional face with silent intensity.

“What does it make you feel?” You repeat the question from earlier and ignore his.

“Um…” He twirls the pastel in his fingers with slight agitation, staining his hands a delectable blue. “Joy. Amusement. Affection. Laughter. Lust. Want.”

“Want?” You swallow thickly and nervously, inhaling deeply through your nose. “You want me?”  

Yoongi’s head snaps in the direction of your voice, lips parting to draw a loud breath. Your mind runs wild at his silence, not denying it, yet not affirming it either; the sound of him dropping a pastel so blaringly loud you flinch.

“I dream about you.” He begins, bluntly, your eyes attached to the way his wet lips are moving. “I dream about getting pastel and smearing it everywhere, I dream about getting to feel you and hear you and taste you and smell you. I dream about fucking so hard you can’t walk and until my throat is sore from moaning.”

Between your legs is pooling with arousal, hearing such confession come from the plump lips of this absolute angel in front of you. “Why don’t you do that to me then?” You venture, standing up to move between him and the easel.  

“No.” He says, short and decided. “I want you to do that to me.”

Your eyes widen, and you’re relieved he can’t see your resolve break and shatter at your feet. Slowly, carefully and with quiet calculation you reach your hand out to him, shivering with expectancy as your fingertip comes into contact with the soft skin above his collarbones. Yoongi lets go of a heavy breath, tensing up beneath your small touch and curling his colored fingers around the ends of the arm rests.

With a flick of your thumb and index you undo the top button of his shirt, slowly exposing more smooth, pale flesh to your wandering eyes. Yoongi’s nose is scrunched up in anticipation and expectation, breath coming out in little puffs of need.

His lips are soft and lush as you lean down to kiss him, consuming you with his taste and his hands as they slide up your shoulders, his body a twitching jumble beneath you. Sinking your teeth into his lips, he lets out a harsh ‘fuck’ against you, groaning wildly.

Just a little bit more. You think to yourself, pulling away to spot his busy hands and smiling with idea. Yoongi grunts in disapproval as you get off of him, crawling over to the desk to grab the few extra ties left there, before you come back to him, grabbing one of his thin arms in your hands and placing it firmly on the sides of the chair.

“I don’t want you getting any ideas.” You say in some sort of reason, double knotting the ribbon at the bottom and repeating the action on the other arm, admiring your handiwork as he grits his teeth at the loss of more control.

The first pastel that your hand gets is a bright orange one, painting a solid line down his chest before smoothing it out with your hand, loving how vibrant the color looks on his ivory skin. Next is pink, and blue and purple and green, until every inch of the skin he has exposed to you is a mirage of blended color, falling into one another and moving as one.

“You’re doing so well.” You murmur, smearing the last bit of bright pastel down his pale stomach. A deep moan is drawn from the back of his throat, like artistic music to your hungry ears, like angels singing heavenly choir.

Yoongi tips his head back, the expanse of his long, vein-ridden neck exposed to you, just one more blank canvas you can turn into a masterpiece. Plucking a dark purple that had rolled to the floor, you trace the outline of his bobbing Adam’s apple, the veins and arteries that carry blood to his heart, beating fast against your chest.  

You draw blossoming flowers, with your hands and your lips, sucking a round bruise into his skin before surrounding it with petals in purple pastel, a garden blooming before your eyes. There is something undeniably erotic about seeing him like this, back bowing against the chair, eyes covered, hands bound and white from gripping the hand rests.

“Relax.” You soothe, watching with lidded eyes as Yoongi bites his bottom lip, the flesh red and swollen between his teeth. Wrapping your arms behind him you slide his body up the chair, the ribbon binding his wrists easily sliding with you to accommodate the position change.  

He bucks hips up, trying to find you like a desperate animal, a beautiful sounding whine leaving his lips when he gets nothing but air. “Be patient.” You murmur, watching him struggle to calm himself down as he writhes in the chair. Your eyes stick on the bulge of arousal in his pants, floor cold against your bare knees as you kneel in front of him.

“Y/N…” Yoongi’s voice is so so deliciously broken. “I-”

“You what, baby?” Your hands, come into contact with his thighs, scraping your nails lightly down the fabric of his pants, keeping the tone of your words light and airy.   

  A ragged sigh leaves his lips as whatever he was going to say flees, making an appreciative sound in the back of his throat as you get closer and closer to his throbbing heat. Smoothing a single finger between his spread legs, you almost lose yourself at the groan that comes from him, long and laced with lust. “More.” Is the only thing he says, heady and rough.

“That’s not how you ask.” You chastise him, standing up from your position against the floor, almost regretfully to walk around him, leisurely throwing your arms around his neck and letting them drape against the mural of his stained chest. “Only good boys who ask with nice manners get what they want.”

He moans, relishing in the fleeting pleasure of your fingers as they wrap around one of his erect nipples and tweak slowly. “Please…” His voice is quiet with shame at having to beg, not wanting to swallow his pride.

Your lips are hot against his neck, licking his wildly beating pulse and biting the skin softly as your hands reach further down to tease at the waistband of his pants. You can feel the breath release from his lungs, opening up his pants button and slowly zipping down, knuckles brushing against his straining heat as he groans louder, “please…”  

His boxers are a dark blue color, perfect against his skin, traveling further to get under those as well. “Lift up, baby.” You instruct carefully, standing on your tiptoes so you can reach down and push both articles of clothing over his milky thighs until his cock springs free.

Yoongi groans at the cold air against his hot, sensitive skin, turning his head sideways to nip at your exposed shoulder, getting a single moan from you before you swat him away and inform him to be a good boy, removing yourself completely to get back in front of him.   

He looks so perfect below you, colored chest expanding with ragged breath and lips parted as he waits for what you’ll do next. A thin layer of sweat covers his face, bright hair sticking to his forehead in small clumps, throat skipping and a muscle feathering along his jaw as he tightens it.

Sliding your panties down your legs, you pull up your skirt and straddle above one of of Yoongi’s thigh, licking your lips at the sight of his hard, pink cock, tip glistening in the light with precum. Part of you wants to just ride the fuck out of him, fast and hard, but the other part wants to completely control him, slowly and steadily.

Using one hand, you grip him, smiling at the loud string of curses that fall from Yoongi’s lips at the unexpected contact, slipping your hand up and down, unrushed and smoothing a thumb over his tip to spread the liquid arousal leaking from him.

“I want you.” He moans, thrusting his hips up and making you bounce on him, the movement against the wet flower between your thighs making your eyes pinch shut and throat work in silent pleasure.  

Pushing a hand on his chest to force him downward, you rub your clit against his thigh, the friction of his jeans on your throbbing bud causing you to stutter in your movements along Yoongi’s length, squeezing his shaft tightly to try and hold on to your orgasm as it threatens to take you over far too early.  

“I can just imagine what you look like.” He fists his hands in their restraints, voice a distressed mess. You are already staining his pants with cum, touching yourself with a free hand to gather the liquid before pressing it against his lips.

“Open up.” You gently direct him, pumping your hand faster as he gets the first taste of you.

You watch his throat bob and lips work around you, the warm, wet cavern of his mouth so stimulating. He mutters a compliment on your sweetness, muscles going rigid when you squeeze his cock once more.

“Do you want me to let you cum?” You ask, completely innocent.

He nods furiously, tongue licking whatever was left on his lips with fervor. “Yes…”

You slap him, a bright red mark appearing on his chest amidst all the color. “That’s not how you ask.”

“Please.” His voice quavers. “I want- I need-” His words are cut off by an aggressively loud moan, white seed releasing from his burning cock and over your hair and arm, staining you in his sex and in the pride of what you made him do.   

Continuing to pleasure yourself against his leg, you grab at the ties binding his wrists down, getting the one closest to you undone and leaving him to do the other, watching with unabashed attention while he reaches behind his head to loosen the blindfold as well, the silk slipping from his eyes and to the bridge of his nose, obscuring his features from view as he looks at you.

Just as his lips crash against yours, your walls begin to clench around nothing, releasing with a breathy moan that he swallows whole, invading his mouth with your tongue and tasting the lingering remnants of your cum on his tastebuds.

“I must’ve drawn something pretty fantastic.” He breaks away to breathe with amusement, ragged and panting as you let the last of the blindfold slip from its position to turn with him to the canvas, bright color bleeding from your eyes, nose, lips, cheeks…

“You drew me.”   

Hope you enjoyed~~ Much love:)

~Admin Eggplant

got a request to post this as a text post so here is my #GotYourBack ficlet again!

Dex winces when he sees the waitress again, trying not to notice her pitying smile when she refills his water for what must be the third time tonight, looking pointedly over at the empty seat across from him. He’s not exactly upset, it’s not like he was in love with Sarah or anything, he just feels awkward. He’s been fiddling with his phone for the past twenty minutes, but there’s nothing new on his timeline, so he decides to text in the SMH group chat.

serious q: if i got stood up am i supposed to just leave or do i just like order a meal to go…

No one answers, which is kind of annoying, but he figures they’re all just busy or something. He decides he’ll just go and leave a good tip when the waitress comes back.

“Hey, I’m actually - ” He’s interrupted before he can finish by the door to the restaurant slamming open.

“Babe!” He hears from across the room. Dex startles and looks up to find Nursey barreling towards them. “Sorry I’m late, my car broke down and my phone’s dead,” he exclaims loudly, dropping a kiss to Dex’s cheek and sitting down across from him.

“Oh, I’ll give you two a minute to check out the menu,” the waitress smiles, sounding relieved.

“What the hell are you - “ Dex starts to ask, but he’s interrupted yet again.

“Dex! Thank goodness you’re still here!” Chowder yells, practically sprinting towards them. “I was stuck in - oh, hey, Nursey.”

“Hey, bro,” Nursey grins, reaching out to fist-bump Chowder. Dex cannot believe his life. Chowder’s pulling up another chair to their table when the door opens again, and Dex groans because this time it’s Ransom and Holster both.

“William J. Poindexter!” Holster shouts.

“Bro, wait, Nursey and Chowder are here,” Ransom says, poking Holster’s side. They’re still walking over when Bitty bursts through the door.

“Dex - oh,” he laughs a little to himself, looking at everyone gathered around the small two-person table.

The waitress looks more than a little flustered when she comes back.

“I think we’re going to need a table that’s a little bit bigger,” Nursey drawls, smiling sweetly at her.

“Um, yeah, of course,” she nods, “Let me just go find a hostess.”

Dex can’t help but laugh at all of them dropping everything just to come in place of his date. They’re ridiculous. He loves them all.

“Thanks, guys,” he says.

“We got your back,” Bitty shrugs, ruffling his hair. They all jump when the door slams open again, and Dex almost falls off his chair laughing.

“Sorry we’re late!” Tango yells, tugging Whiskey behind him towards the table.

Stop Lying

Pairing: Newt Scamander X Reader 

Requested: No

A/N: Just something that I thought would be fun to write, thanks for reading!


“You’re fired.”

Your eyes widen, processing what was just said. You blink a couple times and smile, your boss was clearly joking. Oh that funny, funny man…

“Ahahaha, that a good one,” you cry, laughing and patting your boss on the back. He stood there, standing stiff with a firm look on his face. You wipe tears of laughter from your eyes. “You almost got me there, for a second, I-”

“(Y/N).” he says sternly.

You look at him properly and see that his face hasn’t changed, his lips in a solid straight line, unwavering. You finally realize that he wasn’t kidding. A heavy weight drops in your chest.

“Wait, you’re serious?” you start to feel light headed and very, very worried. “Why? What did I do?”

Your boss sighs, shaking his head.

“You are a phenomenally dedicated worker but I don’t think that your, umm, personality matches with the all seriousness of the office.” he pauses before continuing. “You do get your assignments done but not without causing ruckus and chaos around your co-workers. You are happy and bubbly but some would even go so far to call you annoying and uncoordinated. Heck, you were just laughing because you thought I was joking.”

Your heart sinks, did everyone really think of you that way?

“I think…that you have the potential to do amazing things, it’s just that here isn’t where you will find it.”

“But, I need this job. I need the money.” you sniffle, tears dangerously threatening to fall. You could barely get along with the money you earned working for the lower class of the Daily Prophet, what were you going to do now?

“I’m sorry and I wish you good luck in the next chapter of your life.”


You mutter profanities under your breath as you wave your wand around your small office, the last of your belongings floating into a cardboard box.

Hesitantly, you force down the lid of the box, sealing it shut. You look around the now empty office room, the first and only place you’ve ever worked.

“Lighten up,” you murmur to yourself as you pick up the box to leave the room for the final time. “I’m an optimistic person. Maybe the boss is right, maybe this is a new start. I will find a new job.”

On the way out of the building you spit a board covered in random posters and advertisements. You eyes scan them quickly, there were no new job opportunities at all.
Losing hope for the day you start to walk away when something catches your eye.

The corner of a small blue poster was peeping out underneath a couple of the larger ones. You gently dig past them until you get to the one you wanted.

“Help wanted.” you read, starting to get excited. “Magizoologist in need of assistance.”

You frown, knitting your eyebrows together. A Magizoologist was a person who worked with creatures. Magical creatures. You shudder.
You were never fond of animals and you weren’t sure if a job revolving around them would be ideal for you. But you had no choice, this was the only option for now.
You jot down the important information and decide that you would go for an interview the following day.


You nervously straighten your shirt, waiting on a bench outside of an office in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

“Come in.” a friendly voice beckons from within.

You take a deep breathe and enter.

Sitting in the middle of the office was a young man, probably around your age, with curly, messy red-brown hair.

“Hello!” you say cheerfully. “I’m here for the opportunity to be an assistant, I hope that I am not too late.”

“No, not at all! Please, sit.” the man answers with a cute lopsided smile. You sit and take a closer look at him, really admiring his features. Freckles decorated his face and his green eyes shone with curiosity. He was good looking. Very good looking. You mentally traced the curve of his beautiful cheek bones, defined jaw line…

“I’m sorry Miss, is there something on my face?” he awkwardly clears his throat, signalling that things were getting weird.

“No!” you say a little too loudly, snapping out of your trance and sitting up straighter, fighting hard to cool down the blush that was threatening to bloom.

“Alrighty then. I’m Newt Scamander, and you are?” he asks, going to straight to business.

“(Y/N) (L/N).”

“So tell me (Y/N), have you had any experience with magical creatures?”

You twiddle your fingers, fidgeting in your seat. No, you hadn’t and to be frank, you never wanted to. But this was your only shot, you had to get this job.
Hesitantly, you nod, trying to look as calm and confident as possible.

Newt doesn’t question anything and continues.

“Have you worked with Thunderbirds, Erumpents, Occamies…”

He goes on and your head swirls with information and images of these creatures, each sounding even worse and more horrific than the last.

Again, you nod, becoming more uncomfortable with lying with each passing second.

“Congratulations, you’re hired! We will get started right away!” he seemed excited, and you smiled, trying not to let it fall or waver.

You’d be fine right? Besides, they were just simple lies?…


So far your experience had been great, you and Newt had grown very close. You never really had to go near any of the creatures and mostly took notes for Newt. Although you did scream a couple of times when the Swooping Evil came flying out of no where, thankfully, Newt wasn’t around at the time. On the bright side you hadn’t died yet. You had also grown accustomed to the creatures and started to feel a connection to them…sort of. However, you still not so subtly refused to go near them. Newt definitely didn’t suspect anything…yet. Hopefully.

Today was like no other, inside of Newt’s suitcase with your notebook, jotting down everything Newt was muttering under his breath about Mooncalves. Your hand started to cramp from all the writing and you accidentally dropped your pencil.

“Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been working hard, you deserve it.” he drops down to pick up his pencil and you can’t help but admire how his hair flawlessly fell over his face.

Oh yeah, you were crushing hard on your boss that was basically the same age as you. Not weird at all.

“Is there something on my face again, (Y/N)?” he asks, you were probably gazing at his beautiful face again. You become stiff, preparing to die of embarrassment, this happened wayyyyyy too often.

“Damn, it! Snap out of it!” you mutter quietly to yourself.

“Excuse me?” he blinks a couple of times, a small smile appearing on his face.

“Umm, nothing! I’ll, uh, be on my way!” you let out super quickly, your words stumbling over each other, making it sound as though you were saying one super long word.

He chuckles as he watched your stiff figure shuffle away.

“Oh, (Y/N)!” he calls urgently, making your heart flutter. You turn to face him, he wasn’t looking at you in the eyes. Maybe he was about to confess his feelings and prove that the feelings you had were mutual? TAKE THAT HATERS.

“Can you feed Frank afterwards? He’s feelings cranky with me and I think that some other social contact would be good for him.”

You panic, trying not to hyperventilate right there and then.
Crap, you were afraid. Crap, you didn’t know how. Crap, you were screwed. Crap, you were going to die. Crap, you couldn’t refuse. Crap, this is your job. Crap, Newt is so attractive.

Instead of telling him the truth, you nod.

“Of course!…”


“Hi there Frank…” you say, gently approaching the magnificent beast with a bucket full of its favourite food; you had no idea what it was, and you’d like it to stay that way.

“I’ve come with food?…”
Why that came out as a question, you didn’t know but that was the least of your worries, you were shaking uncontrollably, the bucket threatening to fall from weakening fingers.

He squawks, his feathered head quickly approaching you. You shriek loudly, the bucket falling with a clang and you following close after. You heart pouncing harshly against your rib cage.

Frank looks puzzled at you but seems to shrug, ruffling his feathered wings before swooping down to munch on his fallen meal.

You slowly scoot away, still lying pathetically on the ground.

You hear light laughter behind you and your face flushes as you scramble back up on to your feet.

“He was just trying to nuzzle you.” Newt says, still chuckling softly. You huff and he strides to your side with your long legs, giving you a quick hug. You savour it, probably looking like an idiot, but you didn’t care, your heart was still pounding because if Frank.

“(Y/N), you don’t have experience with creatures, do you?” he finally says, breaking the silence.

“Haha, what gave you that idea? I totally am…” you say sheepishly.

“Stop lying,” he says sternly, yet slightly amused.

“Okay fine. Am I fired now?…”

“No, I would never do that to you…but I’d like an explanation.”

So you tell him and he forgives you and understood why you did it. He offered to train you himself and you accepted. You two would be spending even more time with each other and neither if you were going to complain about that.


Tia hummed under her breath as she cleaned up the last of her work. She’d made a bit of a mess in her last science lab, which had gotten her in a little bit of trouble with her teacher, who’d made her stay behind and clean up. But… somehow Tia couldn’t bring herself to be upset about it. The boys who’d been picking on her had let up for the most part, leaving her alone to target some of the kids in the younger grades. It was freeing, almost, and had loosened the knot of anxiety that seemed to be always present in Tia’s gut.

“Tiadora! There you are!”

Tia turned with a huff; she knew who it was just by the voice and the sunny grin she could hear within it. “Don’t call me that!” she snipped back, but in good humor. Her smile faded when she saw Ollie, who stood with a goofy grin and a swollen, bruised eye. “What… what happened?”

“Oh, this?” Ollie asked, touching her fingers to the bruise as though she’d forgotten it was there. “It’s nothing. Got into a fight a few days ago and my mom wasn’t happy about it!” And then she laughed, laughed even though Tia was horrified. “She said it should remind me not to get into any more scraps.”

Tia packed away the last of her equipment and went to stand by Ollie to get a closer look. “Why’d you get into a fight? That was stupid.”

Ollie raised her eyebrows and smiled again. “I hear someone was being bullied by those thugs from class 3.”

Despite herself, Tia flushed, the tips of her ears growing unbearably hot and fondness swelling in her throat. She coughed, glancing away for a moment or two. “T-that was still stupid!” she snapped, but there was no heat in her words. “Stupid… and now you have a black eye ‘cus of me.”

Shrugging, Ollie ruffled her hair. “Worth it.”

“Do you… um…. do you wanna come to my place and work on my project? It’s about space…”

Ollie perked up immediately. “Yeah! That sounds like fun!”

String Tied Together

A sequel to Broken String. //

Arthur wouldn’t say he’d grown bitter. Just realistic. At age twenty-five, he’d come to understand that the relationship between soulmates wasn’t always happy. Some got divorced, and some cheated on their supposed ‘other half’. Wherever his soulmate was, he probably did them each a favor. Arthur was nearly thirty, now, and was..adjusted. He was fine.

Besides, he wasn’t alone. He had Alfred. Neither of them had soulmates, but they had each other and they were more than happy. There was no way there was anyone on earth that was better for him than Alfred. Whoever his soulmate was, he could fuck right off. He built a life without him. With his amazing, incredible Alfred.

He was sitting on their downstairs sofa when his phone vibrated. He held it in front of him, reading the text from his fiancé.

'Hey babe! I’m gonna be home a little late tonight, so don’t worry abt dinner!! i’ll pick up a pizza on the way home :)’

Only a few seconds later, his phone buzzed again. “love you!!!’

Arthur rolled his eyes, smiling fondly at the device. Alfred was ridiculous.

'I love you too, you know that. See you when you get home. I guess I’ll tidy up, since I don’t have to worry about cooking.’ Arthur answered, getting to his feet and putting his phone in his back pocket. He didn’t get a response. Alfred must have gotten back to work.

He had some time to kill, now. Deciding he’d start upstairs and work his way down, he grabbed his bucket of cleaning supplies and lugged it upstairs.

He’d swept and mopped in the master room, and cleaned the windows. The sheets were in the wash, and the furniture was dusted and shone to perfection. Arthur was digging around in the closet now, going through boxes to see if there was anything he could throw away. Arthur set aside shoes he never wore and coats that were old and moth-eaten. There were still cardboard boxes in the back. Things they hadn’t unpacked since they moved into this house a year ago.

It was keepsakes, mostly. Scrapbooks, journals, and a few stuffed animals Alfred won at a carnival. Arthur pushed a pink rabbit aside and blinked at the bottom of the box. There was a mint green piece of paper at the bottom. The corners of the stationary were torn, and thin. He definitely didn’t remember putting that in there.

Keep reading

Band Bird (Batfam X Reader)
Request: Can I have a request where reader is in marching band (competitive one) so she’s always at practice (Mon: 5-9, Wed-Thurs: 2:30-6, Fri: Football games or 5-9, Sat: competitions from 10 AM - 3 AM) but she’s also part of the batfam so she is somewhat balancing school with band and being a vigilante. Ofc during season it’s busier. & maybe something when they see her show?
A/N: Okay so I know nothing about Marching Band stuff, despite having multiple friends in them, but I tried my best. I actually really like this one and I hope you do too Anon!

Nervous didn’t even begin to describe how you were feeling. You had blown off patrol, training, hanging out with your brothers (and Babs and Cass a few times), and hell even your friends for this event. Hours of hard work, harder than you’ve ever worked for your night life, had been spent preparing for this event, the biggest band competition this season.

Well, it wasn’t state or nationals or anything like that, but this was one competition that decided if you were going to even go to those, as your team has for four consecutive years. One little screw up and that is it, your team is finished!

Normally, you’re very confident about all things band, this was your expertise, but the new piece your teacher had you working on was hell on a sheet. You just couldn’t seem to get this one note right, and it was very obvious and threw everyone off.

“Such a wonderful performance, thank you Star City School District! Up next, Metropolis Marching Band, on deck Gotham City!” One more performance then your team was up. Your heart started racing as your hands gripped the counter you were leaning against. Eyes closed tight, you desperately attempted to calm yourself down before you had a panic attack from nerves alone.

“Miss L/N? There are people here to see you,” The band teacher snapped you out of your attack, causing you to look up and tilt your head. The only people that would be here would be your family, but they couldn’t be.

As much as you wanted them there, for support and to see you do what you do best, you already knew they couldn’t. Bruce, Tim, and Damian couldn’t abandon Gotham in one of it’s worst times. Dick couldn’t get the night off from patrol during his shift as a cop, and no one had been able to get a hold of Jason.

While it hurt you greatly they wouldn’t be here, you understood. They had never been able to go before, only Alfred, and he was out of town on his first vacation of the year that you had forced him to go on.

“Thank you,” you nodded, giving the man a small smile before you stood tall and walked into the other room, where many of your friends were hugging family members or on the phone with loved ones.

You scanned the crowd to find someone you might know, maybe a close friend? Instead, tears started to fill your eyes at the sight in front of you. Your five favorite boys were standing by the wrong door, looking lost as ever and worried.

All were in business casual wear, which was actually very fancy for Jason, Tim and Dick, and very casual for the two true Wayne’s. Bruce and Jason were holding different flowers, Dick was in uniform holding a camera, and Tim and Damian were silently arguing.

“You came!” You yelled, not caring how much attention you brought to yourself as you ran for the group, being pulled into a hug by Dick first. He pulled you close and you winced slightly feeling his badge poke your forehead as he was still in uniform. Pulling away you went to hug the rest of your brothers and father, even Damian patted you on the back!

Pulling away from them you stood in front, smiling with a few drops of water streaming down as you stared up in wonder. “But…what about Gotham…and…” you trailed off when you saw Bruce’s mouth open.

“Babs and Cass has it for a few hours, we’re recording the performance for them and Alfred. Gotham will be okay for a few hours.” He winked, pulling you to his side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Jason shrugged and ruffled your hair, then fixed it with a guilty smirk.

“I finished my work early,” he explained, Dick pointing to his badge showing he was on call, but still here. You felt tears in your eyes again before Bruce and Jason handed you the flowers, and Dick passed off the camera to your teacher.

“Could you take a family photo of us please?” He asked, after he handed him the camera. You all got in a line, you being in the middle, before your eye caught something. Well, someone more like it. It seemed Jason did too.

“Hey, Demon-spawn, get your ass in the picture!” Jason called, gaining some attention from friends, who then practically swooned at your brothers despite them all being quiet older than your peers.

The only reason Damian didn’t complain or fight back was the look you were giving him, you were sure of it! Instead he “Tt”ed and stood next to you, moving his father one space to the right and wrapped an arm around your waist. Of course the little shit was almost as tall as you.

“Okay, say Cheese!” Your teacher said, setting it up and squeezing the button. Of course, you, Dick, and Tim were the only ones who actually said it, but everyone was smiling at least.

Taking the camera you looked down at the picture and felt the tears well up in your eyes again. It was perfect, just like this night would be.

“Up next is Gotham City! On Deck is Bludhaven!” The female announcer called, causing your eyes to widen and yourself to pale as the nerves came back. Seeing your distress Tim put his hand on your shoulder and gave a soft smile.

“Hey, you’re going to do great, don’t worry. We’ll all be in the front row cheering you on.” He said, giving it a squeeze. His words, along with the looks of your family, got you to smile and calm down a bit.

“Go get ‘em little birdie.”

Hot for Teacher

For bellafarella
Mickey hires a tutor to help Yevgeny with his school work not realizing he’d be getting a crush on his son’s tutor.

It’s when Yevgeny turns 8 that Mickey decides to get him a tutor. He was struggling a little in reading comprehension according to his teachers and Mickey really didn’t want to have his son be held back. He couldn’t exactly afford a “professional” tutor so he figured he’d go through the college nearby. They were supposed to be cheap anyways since it was students learning about teaching kids or some shit.

Lucky for him Mickey found this place that offered free tutoring and was run by an internship program. He called them up on one of his days off and they told him they’d bring someone by to talk to him (and his child) about the program. He set up a meeting the following Friday.

Before the meeting he sat his son down to explain to him he’d be getting some extra learning and that there wasn’t anything wrong with that. Fortunately Yevgeny loved books and reading he just wasn’t on the level of the other kids, yet.

“When are they coming?” Yevgeny asks.

“Should be here soon,” Mickey answers.

“Is it a girl or a boy?”

“Uhh I’m not sure. They didn’t really say.  Guess we’ll find out.” Mickey says.

“Hmm. I hope she’s pretty.” Yevgengy says excitedly.

Mickey laughs.

A half hour later there’s a knocking at the door. Yevgengy jumps up from his place on the couch and runs over to the door to answer it. Mickey hates when he does that because you never know who could be at the door.

He yells at Yevgeny as he makes his way to the door to answer it before his son can. “Hey, hey we don’t do that. Let me get it.”

He pulls the door open to reveal a gorgeous, tall redhead.

“Heyyyyyy ooh…” Mickey says once he sees the tutor in front of him.

“Hi,” the man answers. “I’m Ian.”

“Awww man. It’s a guy.” Yevgengy says. “Guess this one’s for you, Pa.” He walks from the door and back to the couch.

Mickey blushes immediately.

“He’s just…he doesn’t mean that. He’s just…” Mickey awkwardly tries to defend Yevgeny’s word. “Fucking kids.” He mumbles to himself.

Ian apparently hears and chuckles.

“Uh ha come in,” Mickey says opening the door wider and moving out of Ian’s way.


Ian walks through and Mickey is behind him. He sees his son sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the tv in front of him.

Mickey reaches for the remote to turn it off earning a sad look from his son.

“Remember what I explained earlier?”

“Yes, Dad.”

Mickey raises his eyebrows and Yevgeny huffs getting up from his spot to sit at the table. Mickey take a seat next to his son and Ian sits across from them

Ian explains the curriculum they’ll be doing and what a typical tutor session would be like.

“It’ll mostly be one on one but there will be some times where you should join,” Ian says. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah of course.” Mickey nods, hearing everything the redhead says despite how hard it might be to pay attention. With eyes like that anyone can get lost in them.

“Good.” Ian smiles at Yevgeny and then looks back at Mickey. “I’d like to start on some things today if you want?”

“Can we?” Yevgeny excitedly asks.

Mickey laughs and shakes his head in amusement. “Sure, kid.” Mickey gets up from his seat. “I’ll just be in your room fixing that bookshelf that mysteriously broke.” Mickey grins at his son.

“I told ya. It just fell.”

“Course it did. Wasn’t like you were climbing on it or anything.”

Yevgeny shrugs as his dad ruffles his hair.

Mickey leaves to work on the bookshelf as Yevgeny and his tutor get to working. Mickey finishes and puts back Yevgeny’s books and beanie babies on his shelf. He comes out wiping his hands as Yevgeny runs to him.

“Look Dad! I got a Lollipop cause I did so good.”

“That’s awesome!” Mickey says enthusiastically. He looks back at Ian grinning and putting his stuff away.

“You did really well today, buddy.” Ian says to Yevgeny. “Especially for your first day.”

“So how does this work out?” Mickey asks walking back over to Ian.

“Well,” Ian says scratching his nose. “If you like me enough to continue with me I can schedule you.”

Like you enough? Mickey thinks. I don’t think anyone has a problem with that.

“You like him don’t you, Dad?”

Mickey chuckles at the irony.

“I like him! He’s funny! He does voices for the characters and he says he’d teach me how to.” Yevgengy excitedly explains.

Mickey laughs. “Alright, alright.” He looks up at Ian. “Count us in.”

Ian beams. “Okay good. Umm well I’d like to come around 3 times a week if that’ s alright?”

“Yeah sounds good.”

“Umm just whatever time is best for you. I’m pretty much always available.”

“Alright well I’ll have to check times with work but…I…can I call you when I know or something?”

“Oh right.” Ian rummages through his stuff. “Here. My number and my email just in case.”

“Thanks,” Mickey holds up the paper. “Here I’ll walk you to the door.”

Ian smiles at Mickey and waves by to Yevgeny. “Bye Yev.”

“Bye Ian!”

“Wait,” Mickey stops. “Ian? Ian Gallagher.”

Mickey says a little too loud, out of shock maybe.

“Uhm yup.”

“Like Lip’s brother?”

Ian tries his best not to roll his eyes. “Yeah. Lip’s brother.”

“Always hated that asshole” Mickey says. Ian laughs, mood light again.

“Shit you uh…you lived right down the street right?”

“Yeah few blocks.”

“Jesus,” Mickey says scratching that back of his head. He laughs awkwardly. “No offense but I thought they’d be sending some yuppie prick.”


“Yeah. So fucking glad they didn’t”

Ian grins. “Me too.” He walks out the door.

“I’ll uh. I’ll call you!” Mickey calls out holding up the paper.

Ian nods and walks to the direction of the L.

Mickey closes the door and turns to Yevgeny behind him.

“Who’s an asshole?’ Yevgeny asks.

Mickey laughs and puts his hand on his sons back, steering him away from the door. “Don’t worry about it. Come on let’s get dinner ready.”

Ian comes by 3 times a week on various days according to Mickey’s work schedule. He’s really good with Yevgengy, who apparently told Ian to call him Yevy upon first talk.

On a particular day it’s raining pretty hard and the tutoring session was nearing end.

“Fuck it’s really pouring out there huh?” Mickey asks.

Ian looks out the window and makes a miserable face. “Yeah. Gonna be fun walking through that.”

Mickey bites his lip. “Why don’t you stay?” He asks.


“Stay for dinner. The rain will slow by the time we’re finished I’m sure.”

“I uhh. I mean thanks for the offer but…”

“Aw please!” Yevgeny exclaims. “Please, please, please, please?”

Ian looks from Mickey and the jumpy Yevgeny. “Uhh…sure.” He laughs. “Why not?”

“Yay!” Yevgeny claps.

Mickey grins glad he had an excuse to offer to make dinner which he’s wanted to do since their first meeting. Ian and Mickey (and Yevgeny) talk back and forth as Mickey gets dinner ready. At one point Ian walks to the kitchen and asks if he could help with anything. He stands so close to Mickey, Mickey thinks he could hear his heart beating.

“Uh nah. I got it.” Mickey answers. “Thanks though.”

“No problem.” Ian says walking back to the table.

Dinner was a simple spaghetti and meatballs but it was the best meal Ian had in weeks. He licks his lips of tomato sauce and Mickey can’t help but think who he’d kill to be able to touch those lips.

As soon as dinner is done Yevgeny brings his plate to the sink and puts it in. He then runs over to the couch and turns on the TV.

“Not so loud, bud!’ Mickey calls out.

Yevgeny turns down the music with a groan.

Ian and Mickey stay at the table talking about southside shit, their life now (school for Ian, a perfectly legal car garage for Mickey), and what they want for their future…well what Ian wants Mickey never really thought about it. Both boys share some sort of darkness in their past that neither mentions. It’s too soon to anyways, neither wants to push the other away.

It’s late by the time Ian leaves. He apologizes but Mickey brushes it off. “It was nice.” He says. “I don’t usually have people over.”

“Why not?” Ian asks.

Mickey shrugs. “Shit gets complicated.”

Ian nods.

The next few months they make a habit of at least one of the days Ian staying over for dinner. Yevgeny loved it and well…Mickey did too. The more time Ian spends there the more buddy-buddy him and Mickey become and even flirty sometimes.

Months later when Ian offers to help Mickey tells him to get his “lazy ass over here and stir the pot.” And he does.

Mickey’s making a sauce when Ian decides to taste it. “Mmm shit Mickey this is fucking good.” He says.

“Hey, hey don’t put your dirty mouth on there. I don’t know where it’s been.”

Ian grins. “No but I know where you want it to be.”

Mickey blushes but twists his mouth shut and shakes his head. Couse he had to fall in…like with an idiot.

Yevgeny was in his room playing so luckily he didn’t hear the flirtations between his tutor and his dad, not that he didn’t know it happened.

One day Yevgeny has had enough. “Why dontcha just ask him out already?” He says to his dad with his kidlike frustration.

Mickey looks at his son surprised “What are you talking about?”

“Ian! My tutor! Ask him out.”

“Look Yev-“

“You’re always flirting and touching each other. You think I don’t see but I do see. It’s annoying so just get it over with and ask him to eat somewhere.”

“I don’t think you-“

“Do it, Dad! Or I will for you.”

Well that’d be fucking embarrassing. “Alright alright. Jesus. We don’t see him till Monday so…”

Yevgeny shakes his head. “You got his number don’t you?”

Mickey sighs. “Yes.”

“Then call him. I don’t want to hear you awkwardly asking him out in person when I’m here. That’s just uncomfortable for everyone.”

Jesus this kid is getting cheeky in his young age.

“Fine.” Mickey goes to his bedroom with his phone to call Ian. Damn straight it was awkward but at least Ian says yes.

“So?” Yevgeny asks when Mickey exits the room.

“We’re on for Saturday.”

Yevgen grins. “Good. See told you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sits down with his son to watch the new episode of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Their date goes smoothly which is saying something since Mickey was shaking most of the time. They make their way back to Mickey’s apartment and Mickey walks to the kitchen as Ian notices how quiet it is.

“Where’s Yevgeny tonight?”

“Oh he’s staying at Mandy’s.”

“For the night?”

“Yup. He loves staying there. Figured I’d give him a treat since he’s the one that talked me into-“

Mickey doesn’t finish his sentence as Ian’s lips are on his, kissing him, messily as Mickey doesn’t react right away. He finally realizes what’s happening and puts his beer down carefully. He grabs the back of Ian’s head and runs his hand through Ian’s bright red hair. They moan in their kisses and their tongues roam with each other’s like they’ve already been doing this for years. Mickey’s moves his hand down Ian’s face so his thumb is on Ian’s cheek, massaging it. Ian grabs Mickey from the back pulling him in closer.

They pull away at some point to catch their breath.

“Shit.” Mickey lets out. Ian laughs and Mickey’s at his mouth again.

Mickey hops himself up on the counter and starts to take of his pants as Ian unbuckles his. He watches as Ian pulls his shirt over his head. He admires the sight of Ian shirtless before Ian reaches for Mickey’s shirt.

Ian gets himself ready as Mickey waits. Ian grabs Mickey’s legs and hoists them on his shoulders. He puts two of his fingers in his mouth and slicks them with spit. He waits for a nod from Mickey before he puts his fingers into Mickey’s hole stretching it. He licks his lips as he hears Mickey moan softly. Ian pulls out of Mickey and replaces his fingers with his dick, hearing Mickey gasp in pleasure.

They go at it slow at first and then Ian picks up pace per Mickey’s request. They finish seconds from each other both left breathless.

They go at it another 2 times that night and Ian falls asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around Mickey.

Eventually Ian’s tutoring sessions lessen as Yevgeny stats getting the hang of it but that doesn’t mean Ian’s visits are less frequent. He always make excuses to come saying he forgot they weren’t scheduled or something but Mickey knows. They spend the day together instead. They go on so many dates Yevgeny decides Mickey should start calling Ian his boyfriend. So he does.

Ian’s a good tutor but an even better boyfriend. He helps Yevgeny whenever he can and plays soldiers with him. He cooks sometimes, though to be honest it was probably best if Mickey cooked, he cleans. He’s the first fucking person to actually treat Mickey well and fuck if Mickey didn’t want to cry at just that idea.

Generally speaking, Hide didn’t like the rain.

He didn’t like how it made his clothes stick to his skin. He didn’t like how cold water would seep into his shoes and wet his socks. He didn’t like how it plastered his hair to his scalp, how it dripped from his from his nose to his mouth (gross) or how it trickled down the back of his neck like an icy finger trailing down his skin.

He was especially afraid of the threat it posed to his cycle ride home. Slippery streets are dangerous! Also didn’t help that Hide could barely see two feet in front of him.

He could almost feel the icy rainwater soaking into his backpack and damaging his textbooks, not to mention his laptop carrying a twenty page assignment he could not afford to lose.

Hide needed someplace to shelter. Quick.

Keep reading

Baby Fever [Kazer]

Summary: Where Jonny and Patrick run into a bunch of babies within a week, and Jonathan catches the Baby Fever.


Jonathan and Patrick had been going to the same church since before they got married. But, Jonathan doesn’t remember this many kids being here.

Don’t get him wrong, Jonathan adored kids. It’s just, there was the preacher’s ten year old, Kim’s three year old twins, Henry and Charlotte’s newborn daughter, Gloria’s grandson, and Penelope’s triplets — lord have mercy, triplets.

The couple entered the church Sunday morning, and Jonathan immediately spotted Charlotte. He was calling out to her and rushing forward before Patrick even realized there was people in the building. When Patrick got to his husband, he found the latter talking with Charlotte.

“She put you through twenty hours of labor,” Jonathan asked the new mother, eyes wide with disbelief and awe, “Holy hell.” He looked around and rethought his words, “Dang.”

Charlotte smiled and gently bounced the newborn that was looking tiredly at Jonathan. “It was worth it, though,” the mother hummed, and then proceeded to lay the baby in the hockey player’s arms. Jonathan nearly started crying.

Jonathan cooed down at the baby and rocked her in his arms while he talked with Charlotte about other things.

Patrick watched with a small smile on his face. Henry stood next to him. “Jonathan’s pretty good with kids, huh?” He stated. Patrick nodded, continuing to watch his husband go to baby Macy’s aid when she began to fuss.

Keep reading

Misery Never Goes Out Of Style: Part 2 - Chapter 3

Pairing: Eventual G Dragon x Reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Word Count: 2,253

Warnings: Smut, feelings, and not talking about feelings.

Author’s Note: This is going to get worse… trust me. I have a plan. 

Listening to Oh My Heart by Night Riots

Here’s the Misery Never Goes Out Of Style Masterlist

Here’s my masterlist.. but it’s mostly Supernatural

Keep reading

Parachutes 7c - The Mission

This AU sees Claire working for the Special Operations Executive (SOE) during World War II.  She is on her way to France for a special assignment with two Scottish paratroopers in tow…

7b and other links to the previous installments can be found here

My thanks to @bonnie-wee-swordsman for casting a glance at this.  Her amendments ended up elongating this section in preparation for what’s to ocme in 7d…

He didn’t snore, but I could hear his breaths, twists and turns.  It drove me mad to distraction and yet I could not pinpoint why.  I had shared bunks, cabins and beds with a whole host of people and slept like a log.  Frank had always thought it was amusing how I could sleep through him coming in and going out and would barely register his presence in our bed.  Yet, here I was, in a hotel in France, about to go onto the most dangerous scouting mission and all I could think about was the gentle noises of my mission companion.  

I was grateful for the first rays of sunlight to touch through the room.  In the distance I heard the sound of birds readying for the dawn chorus, the church bell ringing a more lively time.  As exhausted as I was, the dappling through the panes warmed me and I began to feel more human.  Wrapping myself up in the dressing gown that sat on the chair nearby, I gently made my way out of the room, passing by the still-sleeping Jamie.  He looked near beatic with a childlike smile on his face.  A small lock of hair had curled around his forehead and I felt an urge to push it back into place.  I smiled to myself and said a word of thanks that it was him and not Gaston that I was sharing a room with.

Returning from my ablutions, I tried to shut the door delicately, so as to not wake my sleeping companion, but the creak in the floorboard was enough to startle him. Jamie sprinted up, small knife in hand, ready to pounce.  Instinctively, I took a quick step back as the movement bore all the hallmarks of a trained paratrooper, ready to attack at a moment’s notice.  Seeing it was me, and most likely taking in my reaction, he relaxed and began to start picking up the quilts where they had settled on the floor.

‘You sleep with a knife?!’

He shrugged, ruffled his hair, messing up his red curls which, unlike mine, placed themselves back in an orderly fashion.  He stretched out, allowing the full length of himself take shape.  How someone could be so tall and yet as graceful as any ballet dancer amazed me. A playful smirk crossed  his face, ‘Aye well, doesne bump you in the head as much as a gun.’

I choked back a laugh and in happy silence we began to get our things together, readying for the day ahead.

‘I er, well. I just need to get dressed, could I?

Skitting around the chair that Jamie was sat on, I positioned myself behind the thin gauze, praying that the light was in the right direction and afforded some modesty to the proceedings.

‘I’ve been thinking about today and our plan.’ I let my gown fall to the ground, and leaned over to grab for my knickers and stockings, hoisting my leg up on the nearby chest of drawers as I did.  

‘It seems to me that keeping with the original plan will be the best course of action.’

‘Aye?’ Jamie had slid into English again and his low Scottish burr was soothing and sent a ripple through me.  

I coughed. ‘Well yes, the plan was that Gaston and I would go into the factory, posing as man and wife’. I made quick time of my second stocking and grabbed at the silk blouse that had been loaned to me by Gibb for the occasion ‘the wife of a wealthy industrialist should look like one’ she had smirked.  Well, now it appears I was the wife of a factory worker with a rich taste in clothes.  Or maybe not.

‘How do you want me?’ It was almost breathless with an undertone of hopefulness to it.

‘I beg your pardon?’ I snapped

‘At the factory, how do you want me to be?  An idiot? Play at being Gaston?

‘Oh right, sorry, misheard you there.  I thought you were, well,’ I shook my head, silly me, pretensions of something ridiculous.  As if being in France this time had transformed me into some coquette, an ingenue.  I cleared my throat.  

‘To all intents and purposes, you are Gaston, or his nephew so I think we should elevate you from the shop floor, what do you say?  I’ll show you the internal map but a word of warning, it’s a labyrinth, the best thing that you can do is keep the owners of the shell factory occupied.  Use that charm of yours I hear wows the local women.’

‘You think I’m charming?’

‘I said, the local women find you charming.  Different.  Now, concentrate.  I’m going to head off and find the second site where we should get

‘They’ll be another layer of security Claire, how will you get past them?’

‘Well, I’ll use my feminine charms, and if they don’t work, pretend I’m lost.  The important thing is that I try and get as much observed as possible.

‘And if you don’t?’

I paused.  For truly, I didn’t know what I was going to do if I didn’t find what I was looking for on this go.  I couldn’t lie my way out.  We’d have to plan a diversion.  I moved around the screen to find Jamie sitting quite comfortably with a cushion acting as a prop for his arms, his face looking up to the ceiling as if studying the cracks, looking for patterns.

‘Jamie?’  He came out of his trance and smiled that lopsided smile of his, eyes twinkling at the thought of what was to come.

‘I’m thinking that if you get caught, you cannae lie so I’m going to have to come in and create a diversion to help get you out.  Good job I’ve got some explosives in my case.’

‘You have what in your case?’  He got up and quickly turned to face the bed, away from me and walked towards it.  Gently he moved downwards and slid his hand under the bed to retrieve his case.  Pulling it out, he clicked the locks and undid the secret compartment.

‘You’ve had this in your possession the whole time and never told me?  I am your commanding officer in this mission and I need to know all of these things!’  I marched towards him in a pique of anger. ‘You bloody minded, ridiculous - ‘

‘Scot?  No madam, I think you’ll find I’m french. At least that’s what my identity card says’  A deep chuckle emanated from his chest which quickly turned into a howling laugh.

‘Jesus, Claire! I was going to tell you.  After the rollicking you gave me the other time.  Just hadna found the right time.  Besides, I figured what with that glass face of yours, the less you knew about some stuff the better, aye?’

Despite of myself, I had to admit he was right and joined in, sitting down next to him on the bed.  A friendly companionship and I was glad again to have him as my partner in this endeavour.

‘Let’s look at those maps, and make a start.  First things first, breakfast.’  

anonymous asked:

"Doll you're really killin' my business," Bucky said, leaning over the counter to kiss you. You shrugged and ruffled his short brown hair. He gave you your usual sprinkled donut and coffee, taking a bite from it first. "Hey!" You whined. You took your usual stool at the counter right in front of Bucky. The quaint, vintage bakery definitely resembled that it was 1940. "Bucky, I want another one." With an eye roll he gave you all the free donuts and drinks you want, paying in kisses of course.

omgsh I love baker!bucky so so much , I think he’d ask you out with a cake 

Spinoff Saturday

“I have a proposition for you, (Y/N).” Jungkook followed you breathlessly down the hall.

“What is it, Jungkook? I have no idea why you’re even following me—don’t you have to get to class?” You held the straps of your backpack as you turned around to speak to the boy.

“I can blow off one day of class,” He smirked, “Especially for this occasion.”

“I’m not even going to class, so do you still have to follow me?” You turned on your heels back.

“Great, then we can talk the whole period.” He walked beside you. “How about we make a bet?”

“What kind, what for, and what’s at stake?” You climbed up the stairs, holding onto the railing on the side.

“Aish..” He said under his breath, but cleared his throat. “Uh, homecoming is coming up.”

“Yeah?” You looked behind you to see him looking up your skirt. Not wanting to embarrass him—more yourself—you went quicker.

“Whoever gets a date first wins,” He shook his head, regaining his focus.

“But what are the stakes?” You got to the top of the stairs, opening the old music room.

“The winner gets to order the loser around for an entire month.”

“Anything?” You threw your backpack on the ground, running your fingers through your hair.

“Anything.” He confirmed, closing the door behind him.

“Why would I make a bet with a greasy boy like you, hm?” You sat on the floor.

“The same reason I would make a bet with a slimy, loser girl such as yourself.” He bopped your head, sending it slightly back.

“What do you plan to prove here? That you’re better looking than me?” You raised your eyebrow, “Because I know the answer to that: I’m the better looking one. If it’s to make me do some crazy thing, just tell me now so I have motivation to win.”

“I don’t know what I want you to do right now, but I’ll figure it out when I win. I always win,” He proudly stated, sitting down as he puffed his chest out like an animal. “I’m good at everything.”

“Mm,” You nod with your lips tucked inside your mouth, “Okay.”

“What?” He gave a halfhearted laugh, “You scared?”

“I don’t even like you, Jungkook.” You rolled your eyes, scooting towards the window to look out.

“You talk to me, so that must mean you like something about me.” He sat next to you.

You looked out over the rainy dark day. “You can believe what you want,”

“I’m not that bad.” He watched the rain create ripples in the puddles.


You glared at the boy who treated the project as if it were nothing, “Don’t you have a boyfriend?” He asked, propping his feet on the desk.

“No.” You sharply replied, writing on your notebook to gather information.

“Explains why you do so much work,” He snorted.

“Then I assume you have a girlfriend?” You said emotionlessly.

“No.” He looked at your writing, “Haven’t found a girl yet. What’s the rush?”

“There’s no rush to find girls, but there is a rush to finish this project. It’s half of our grade, Jungkook.” You said the last part slowly, as if he were to miss it at normal speed.

“It seems like you have this under control,”

“Even if I do, you’re not taking credit for my work.”

“Oh, come on.” He put his arm around you, “Please?”

“That doesn’t work on me.” You shrugged his arm off.

He stood quiet, and even took his feet off of the desk’s smooth surface. The silence was strange, so you turn around to see what he could possibly be doing now. He was in shock—presumably by how fast you turned his ‘charm’ down. “How about I take you out? You’re really cute,” He had another go, moving his chair closer to yours.

“I don’t date.” You slid your belongings farther away from him, along with yourself.

“Don’t think of it as a date then,” He propped his head up on his hand. “Think of it as friend’s meeting at the café.”

“I don’t go out.” You shot his second attempt down.

“What do you do?” He sounded intrigued, as if it were so odd to not go out.

“Work, do homework, do chores—anything that involves helping in anyway I can to my family or myself.” You continued scribbling away in your notebook.

“How about we have lunch together tomorrow? It’s not going out since we’re in school, and it’ll be centered around the project.”

“How about no?”

“I don’t beg, if that’s what you want.” He threw his feet up again, “Girls come to me—not vise versa. I don’t need to go out with you, anyway.”

“Then why ask?” You murmur to yourself.

“To give you an opportunity,”

His arrogance sparked a flare of dislike inside of you, making you resent him by—not only his appearance—his personality.


“Who are you planning on asking?”

“I don’t know.” You thought.

“I don’t even have to worry about who I ask—no girl ever says no to me.”

“Except me.” You felt cunning confidence in stating those two words.

You saw from the corner of your eyes how he tensed at the memory, “You don’t count, (Y/N)-ah.”

“Why not? You asked me out how many times?” You grinned, knowing you caught him. “About ten times—at least. The first day I met you, you told me you weren’t going to beg for me; you chased me. What was that, too? You can have whichever girl you please, then why come back to me? You have the popular girls who practically own the school, and you chase after the girl who prioritizes work.” You flipped your hair over your shoulder, “I guess someone has a soft spot for me.”

“Yah, I don’t.” He crossed his arms.

“Then why are you here? You and I fight everyday, and yet you always come back; not a day of your life is spent away from me. Even the weekends you sought me out,”

“That’s because I have nothing better to do.” He tried covering himself up.

“Nothing else to do?” You scoffed, “Have you not seen those girls who hang on your every word? I’m sure you could find something to do with them,”

“Well, maybe I don’t wanna do anything with them.” He shrugged like a child—quite cute if you may add. “Maybe I would rather spend my time making a girl like me,”

“Is that what this is? What all of everything you’ve even done was? An attempt to make me fall for you?” You turned to him, “Does it excite you or annoy you that there’s only one girl in school who won’t fall in your trap?”

“At first it annoyed me,” He admitted, “Now I’m just interested in you: what kind of guys you like, your personality—what makes you not like me.”

“All you had to do was ask,”

“Okay: Why don’t you like me?”

“You’re an arrogant, greasy, slutty, brat of a little boy who thinks he can get everything he wants because of his looks. Looks die out, Jungkook. Personality is more important for me than anything else, and you proved you’ve got a pretty horrid one for the past year.” You vented everything out.

He looked down while nodding slowly, biting his lip to show understanding of your disliking. “You even think that when I follow you around on our days off?”

“No.” His eyes glisten with hope, “I think you’re a creep then.” And there go the eyes. “You follow me from my house, you stalker.”

“So out of school, I’m a stalker.” He tried to clarify, then you nod after. “I am different out of school, though.”

“You are, I’ll give you that. Although, you playing with children doesn’t interest me as much as you think it does.”

“I play with children because I want to, (Y/N)-ah. It’s not entirely because I want to impress you,”

“So it is an attempt to make me like you?”

“Somewhat.” There was a silence, with the rain’s little taps as the only noise. “Is there anything you like about me?”

“Honestly? Do you really want me to answer that?” You turned to him.


“How do I know it’s not just to boost your ego?”

“Because I’ll answer honestly the things I like about you,” He stared at you contemplating, “Think about it: is it really an ego boost for me to confess the things like about you? If anything, it’s more of a step backwards.”

You sighed, turning your whole body towards him. “I like your hair,” You shrugged, ruffling his floppy black hair. “Your smile isn’t bad, you’re tall, you’re calmer about the whole 'every girl wants me’ characteristic outside of school.”

“That’s all?”

“Did you want more?”

“Anything is really good for me,” He smiled. “I like that you give me a challenge, you’re focused on what you want, the way your hair looks everyday, your smile, your eyes, your skin-”

“I have a feeling you’re going to list everything.” You cut him off.

“You’re right.” He played with his pant leg, “Not to mention the glow you radiate..”

“Stop messing around, Jungkook.” You pushed him back roughly.

“I’m not..” He smiled sheepishly, “Good luck finding a date, (Y/N)-ah.” He stood up, smoothing some of your hair back. With that, he left the room with his bag.

Was he telling the truth?


You walked towards the doors of school, then Jungkook leaning on a locker with a girl caught your eye. Aish, the bet already started?! Why didn’t he say?! You turned back, pushing against the crowd coming towards you. “(Y/N)!” A voice was surprised as you bumped into a chest. “The day’s over, silly.” Tae smiled his rectangular smile.

“I need your help, Tae.” You held onto his shoulders as he lifted you up, walking in the direction you were going against.

“With?” He set you down.

“Jungkook made this weird bet with me,” You fixed your skirt, “Whoever finds a date for homecoming first gets the order the loser around for a month.”

“What’s wrong with that kid?” He rubbed his temple, “Are you asking me?” He asked girlishly.

“Yes, Tae.” You breathed.

“Well you have to put more effort into it!” He giggled, “Take me out first.”

“Tae!” You whined loudly, “I don’t have that kind of time, I already saw him flirting with some girl.”

“He works quickly,” He frowned, “I’ll go.”


“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you could go with another girl, instead of me who just needs you for a bet.” You explained.

He shrugged, “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Thank you!” You almost tackled him into a hug.

“Don’t be so happy, (Y/N).” Jungkook sang walking by, “I saw that, and I already have a date—you lost.”

“Aw.” Tae pouted, holding onto you. “She’s cute, Jungkook. Can I still take her?”

Jungkook tensed a little, “Sure, hyung.”

“Alright!” He cheered, “You’re gonna be the cutest girl there!” He hugged you tightly, “I’ll take you to eat and everything!”

“Yah, you don’t have to agree (Y/N).” Jungkook said, “You don’t even have to go if you don’t want—I know how you don’t date or go out.”

“Why not?” You smiled, feeling Tae peck your cheek repeatedly.

His face softened, before reverting back to the 'bad boy’ stern one. “See you there.”


“You really look beautiful,” Tae said, looking you up and down.

“You’ve said that about one hundred times now,” You blushed.

“Let’s go dance.” He held his hand out to you. Reluctantly, you grabbed it. Just as you were about to dance to the current song, a slow one began to play. “Just our luck, huh?” He smiled sweetly. You wrapped your arms behind his neck, his hands on your waist, and your bodies close. You danced, and Tae began talking about something about lions. You couldn’t focus, as he was spewing facts about them left and right. Your eyes wandered around the room, falling on Jungkook sitting alone at a table. His eyes were fixated on how your bodies swayed together, perfectly timed with the music. “Isn’t that funny, (Y/N)?” Tae’s voice came through.

“What?” You tore your gaze away from his, “Oh, yeah.” You laughed nervously.

“You have really pretty eyes..” He said slowly, looking into them.

“Thank you.” You looked back into his. You looked down, feeling a bit shy. His hand immediately made its way to your chin, bringing your head back up to his. He slowly fluttered his eyes closed and leaned in. Tae’s lips were against yours—full and plump. As you broke away, you looked back to where Jungkook was. He was gone, but you turned to the door in the nick of time to see him leaving.

“Should I take you home?” Tae asked, seeing the volunteers beginning to clean up.

“I think.” Your arms left his shoulders.

“I had fun,” He smiled, putting his arm around you as you walked out.

//Next Day//

“Sharpen my pencil, (Y/N).” Jungkook threw his pencil at you.

“Why are you being like this? This is even too far for you,” You snapped. The entire day he’s been acting ruder than usual to you, and since you lost the bet you now have to do everything he says.

“Don’t ask questions: just go.” He did a shooing motion with his hand.

“No.” You slammed the pencil down in front of him.

“Did I not explain what happens if you don’t do what I say?” He sat up.

“No.” You turned around.

“You run around naked in the halls.” He smiled confidently.

“Jungkook!” You shouted, causing people to turn around in your class. “I can’t do that-”

“You’ll have to or else I’ll make you.” You snagged a piece of your top, tugging on it not caring if the buttons popped.

“What’s wrong with you?” You shoved him away.

“A bet is a bet, (Y/N).”

“I know, but you’re acting so different.” You fixed your top.

He bit his lip as he saw the despair in your eyes. “I’m sorry..” He tried grabbing your arm.

“Stop.” You snatched it away.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He scooted closer to you, “I’m just upset.”

“Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”

“Go out to get some drinks with me—it’s an order now.”

“Ha,” You shook your head, “You treat me worse than a slave, try to rip my top off, and now you want me to out on a date with you?”

“(Y/N),” He grabbed your hand lightly, “Will you go out on a date with me after school?”

A few girls turned around, hearing the words just uttered by the bad boy: a question more than a command of a date. “Jungkook,” You took your hand back, “You’re making people stare.”

“I can make it worse if you don’t say yes,” He stood up, “I—Jeon Jungkook—am begging (Y/L/N) (Y/F/N) to go out with me! That’s right: I’m begging!” He proclaimed loudly.

“Jungkook!” You tugged his sleeve down for him to sit. Thankfully, no one was paying attention since the room was loud enough as it is.

“Is that a yes?” He asked, plopping down in his chair.

“Yes, just never do that again!” You slapped his arm.

He couldn’t contain the smile of his lips, “Meet me at the café after school.”

“Why don’t you just come to my house and walk me?”

“Good idea.” He nodded, “I’ll be there.”

//At Café//

“Do you like Tae?”

“What?” You nearly choked on your hot chocolate.

“You went to homecoming with him—he knew it was a bet—but you still went. You told me you didn’t like going out, and it wasn’t a lie. Why go with him?”

“I just figured since I asked him and he was being so sweet, I would.”

“Well, would you have gone with me?” He looked at you with his big puppy like eyes.

“I’m not sure.” You licked your lips, “Maybe if you were sweet.”

“Am I not?” He smiled, sipping his drink. “I promise I will.”

You giggled at the mustache it left on him, “Why are you being so nice? Is it for earlier?”

“Not exactly..” He wiped his mouth, “I really like you, (Y/N).”

“I know that.” You laughed.

“But I really do,” He sat closer from across the table, “I want to be your boyfriend—not fight. I got jealous last night with you and Tae. I wished I would’ve been dancing with you instead, and I wish it was me who would’ve kissed you. My date stood me up, then when I saw her hanging out with that popular guy I just couldn’t help but feel a little upset. Then I saw you and Tae having a great time and I got even more upset—and sad. I just want you to be mine..”

“I like you too..” You murmured to yourself.

“Really? After all I’ve done? I guess I did get to you then,” He smiled. “So what do you say? Would you like to be my girlfriend, (Y/N)?”

“Okay.” You nodded, feeling a smile creep up on you.

anonymous asked:

My friend bailed on me in spectacular fashion this weekend, any chance you have an SMH Got your back story to help cheer a girl up??

Dex winces when he sees the waitress again, trying not to notice her pitying smile when she refills his water for what must be the third time tonight, looking pointedly over at the empty seat across from him. He’s not exactly upset, it’s not like he was in love with Sarah or anything, he just feels awkward. He’s been fiddling with his phone for the past twenty minutes, but there’s nothing new on his timeline, so he decides to text in the SMH group chat.

serious q: if i got stood up am i supposed to just leave or do i just like order a meal to go…

Keep reading

Cooking by the Book

Jordan Fisher x Reader
Words: 684

the jonathan fletcher gc: WE NEED MORE

well okay i ain’t gonna deny the squad of another part. this will be the last thing i post because i am exhausted and i can’t feel my left hand (yay wrist problems). so goodnight! for real this time x

requests are open as usual. enjoy your day / night!


Originally posted by arianagrandes


You opened your door to the cocoa eyed boy that had become your lover over the past few weeks. He was always early, and always bright eyed when he showed up at your door.

“Morning Jordan,” You said, rubbing your eyes and smiling at him. “Are we off on another breakfast adventure this morning?”

“No, I figured we could stay in today. As much as I love you, I can’t spend all of my money on you. Plus, you have a perfectly good kitchen here that’s going to waste,” Jordan stated, walking into your apartment and placing two coffees down on your dining table. “But I did buy breakfast in case we fail at cooking.”

“I see you have faith in me,” You stated, laughing quietly and shutting the door. “How’s the album going without me?”

Jordan pouted slightly. “I miss you so much. I’m sorry. I should’ve taken the blame for breaking that equipment…” He said, biting his lip. He looked up at you sadly.

“Hey, don’t say that. It was only an internship anyway. It’s not like it was going to become my career. Just something to fill in time and get some extra credit,” You replied, shrugging. You ruffled his hair, heading into the kitchen and opening the fridge.

“Anything jumping out at you?” Jordan asked, wrapping his around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

“Honestly, I haven’t been shopping in weeks. We can have eggs, or fruit salad,” You stated, furrowing your brows. “I swear I have something else…”

“I got you bread the other day on the way back from Hamilton. How does eggs on toast sound?” Jordan suggested, looking around the kitchen in an attempt to locate the bread. He unwrapped his arms from around you, opening the cupboard and grabbing the loaf. “Found it!”

“I don’t think I’ve ever cooked eggs before. This could end badly,” You stated, taking the eggs out of the fridge and putting the carton next to the stove. You found a frying pan, putting it on the stove and putting some butter the pan before turning on the flame.

“I’m sure it can’t end that badly,” Jordan stated, picking up one of the eggs and tossing it in the air. The egg smashed when it landed in his hand, splattering all over the two of you and your kitchen. You bit your lip, holding in your laughter and picking up another egg. You cracked it on the edge of the pan, putting the yolk and the white in the pan.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” Jordan mumbled, placing the egg shell in the bin and looking at the ground. You smirked, picking up two pieces of bread and putting them on the sides of his head.

“What are you?” You asked.

“Are you being serious right now?” Jordan asked, pouting slightly. He huffed when seeing the serious look you were giving him. “An idiot sandwich…”

You burst out laughing, dropping the pieces of bread and doubling over as you continued to laugh.

“It’s not that funny! Hey, what’s that smell?” Jordan asked, turning to see the egg burning in the pan. He quickly turned off the flame, using a spatula and getting the egg from the pan in the bin.

You slowly calmed down from your laughing fit, standing up straight and looking at Jordan, who was glaring at you with his hands on his hips. “You had one job!” He exclaimed, pouting. “I was really looking forward to eggs.”

“If you stop complaining, I won’t make you clean up,” You replied, crossing your arms. Jordan’s hands dropped from his hips, resting at his side. He moved forward, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“You’re the love of my life, you know that right?” He said, smirking. You rolled your eyes, opening the fridge and grabbing the assorted fruits you had left over.

“Can we agree to never try and cook again?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend. Jordan chuckled, nodding as he picked up the two slices of bread from the floor.

“Never again.”

anonymous asked:

omg can you pls do "daily life with their s/o" but with bangtan omg that would kill me but also make my day bc jungkook would be such a cute brat in the morning..... like if you tried to wake him up he would kind of mumble "noooooooooo plsssssssss just 5 more minutes" and you're like UGH fine and then he would hug your waist and say, "five more minutes..... with you" and you would die right then and there but so would he bc hello how can he say something so cheesy w/o becoming a blushing mess!!!


  • it takes like twenty minutes to get him up and then you find him half asleep in the bathroom with his toothbrush about to fall out of his mouth
  • you have to like pinch his arm to get him to wake up and he’s like “what wait huh” and you’re like “genius, it’s time to wake up” and he’d just scrunch up his nose like “who made it a rule that we needed to be awake before noon tbh”
  • neither of you has the energy in the morning to cook so microwavable breakfast it is 
  •  “when will we ever have a real breakfast” “when we have the money for ihop or something and you don’t have a schedule - btw you have like thirty minutes to get to bighit”
  • every morning consists of namjoon rushing to get himself ready and you like throwing socks at him because he always forget something - usually his socks
  • you walk him to the door and he’s like “am i forgetting something?” and you lean up to kiss him and you’re like “that” and he’s like oMF
  • you get like a call during lunch break and it’s namjoon and he wants to say something, but jin takes the phone and is like “namjoon said you two aren’t eating healthy breakfasts so here let me tell you how to make eggs-”
  • once the phone call is over you get a text that’s like ‘sorry jin hyung is like this’
  • you get home before he does and so you’re like “let’s make something to eat” and even if you like burn something a bit or overcook it like when namjoon gets home he just finds you there and wraps his arms around you and is like “at this point, your cooking tastes like heaven so just give it to me”
  • after dinner you let him have some space to work on music but then you like come over and cuddle into his arm and he finds it soothing and so you two lounge around like that until it’s time to sleep~


  • waking him up is like a whole new level of oh my god. you have to like jump on the bed and play bts’ entire discography before he as much as opens one eye
  • you get yoongi out of bed only because you’re like “yoongi. you gotta go to work. for the money yoongi. the MONEY”
  • and the music ofc, but money right now is pulling him out of bed and into the kitchen for some much needed coffee
  • he tries to drink like three cups and you have to stop him
  • to be honest yoongi would go out to work in his damn pajamas if you didn’t throw like some jeans @ him
  • you both leave together and yoongi’s like “should i buy coffee on the way there” and you’re like “caffeine isn’t good for you” and he’s like “waking up isn’t good for me”
  • you two live a sassy home life as you can see
  • he still gives you the softest kiss before you leave though
  • during the day you get like three texts, one of them is from namjoon being like ‘thanks for making sure yoongi isnt late to practice’, another is from yoongi that goes ‘do we have anything in our fridge?’ and a third is from taehyung who took a pic of your boyfriend knocked out in the bighit closet
  • you get home after him and yoongi’s like “i got this food from the boss” and so you eat the take out together and yoongi complains about his day a little before just being like “how about you”
  • you guys have already changed into pjays so you’re just about ready to sleep no matter what 
  • you and yoongi try to stay up to watch some drama but nope you’re out like two lights the first twenty minutes in
  • yoongi’s head like drops from your shoulder to your lap and you don’t even know how 


  • wakes up before you and like showers, cooks (more like just some eggs and toast), and dresses before you
  • like you wake up and he’s already put together so well and you’re like: how
  • he’s chuckling at your bedhead as you munch on the toast he made and you’re like “it’s too early jin”
  • you like sluggishly make way for your closet and jin’s like “you’re gonna be late” and you’re cranky so you roll your eyes and he like pulls you back like “did you roll your eyes at me?” and you’re like jIN pLEASe and he’s just chuckling like “go, go, get dressed!”
  • you put something on and like comb your hair and jin’s just like “you look nice” and you’re like “thanks” and he waits for you to say it back to him this is how things work in this house
  • it’s cute though you two walk to the train, or at least he walks you to your train and then like leans down to make sure you have everything and he’s like a mom but also your hot cute boyfriend and you’re just like how can someone be so angelic and sweet
  • and then he gives you this surprise goodbye kiss and you know you’re like thankful you woke up for two minutes because you get this
  • jin calls you once during lunchbreak and once before you leave work and he’s like ‘im nearby, let’s meet up!’
  • you guys have lunch somewhere small and unknown and jin asks for a table in the back so he doens’t have to be too sneaky and he feeds you with his chopsticks
  • on the way home you take a nap on his shoulder and jin smiles because you’re so cute he can’t take it
  • you come home, play some wild rounds of mario kart 
  • and then fall asleep with him spooning you from behind ^^ 


  • neither you or him wants to get out of bed first, but hoseok is the positive of every situation so SOMEHOW he gets the two of you out of bed
  • it might include him literally picking you up, we just don’t know 
  • while you’re eating he tries to pick out an outfit but he’s just actually asking you over and over again if this or that looks good
  • you’re sorta like “can i wear your shirt and like some sweats to work” and he’s like “!!!! we gotta look good!!!!! we are such good looking people are clothes should match!!!” 
  • hoseok is the god of lifting your self esteem honestly he just makes you want to work harder
  • once you two are nice and dressed (tbh im more than sure hoseok makes sure you two have at least one couple item on) you play a game to see who buys drinks on the way to work
  • hoseok loses on purpose like eVERYTIME and you’re like omg let me lose once and he’s like hmm what i lost fairly whatre you talking about!!
  • he already knows what you like to order so he just goes up and gets it
  • you two part ways but not before hoseok presses his forehead to yours and gives you this bright encouraging smile and goes “im going to do my best because of you today~ you do the same~”
  • during work hoseok gets absorbed in training so you only get texts when he’s on his way home and he’s like very apologetic but you understand like training is important to him!!
  • once you two are at home together he shows you some of the dances and you and him monitor live stages together,,, which is actually kinda fun
  • you make dinner together
  • you get ready to go to bed together
  • you like help brush each other teeth
  • this is the cutest dynamic 
  • you have couple pajamas. there i said it.

  • taehyung doesn’t wake up not until you’re dressed, the coffee you made is cold, and he’s already late for his bus
  • he like leaves the house in whatever he finds on the floor even when you’re like taehyung please but it’s actually whatever he still looks good in it and you’re like how
  • he kisses your nose like “because i look like this of course”
  • and you’re like how do you have the energy to be greasy when you couldn’t even haul your butt out of bed two seconds ago
  • he just shrugs and grins and ruffles your hair and you’re like ihu and he’s like u love me and youre like …… true
  • you guys have a competition to see who can chug the most milk from their glass in under a minute
  • you keep playing games as he walks you to your stop and tbh it’s never a boring morning with him
  • “since you lost three times in a row here, you have to pay for take out tonight” 
  • you roll your eyes but taehyung just leans in and is like “don’t be sour, now come here”
  • he pulls you in around the waist and nuzzles your neck and you’re like taehyung - we are in public chill but he has no chill he woke up like fifteen minutes ago
  • “if i could, i’d fall asleep right here with you again” “that’s nice, but we’re literally outside of a train station”
  • while he’s at practice you get lots of photos of stuff he sees, he’s also like “should i post this on twitter- or this- or this”
  • he sends you the link to their bangtan bombs honestly
  • you get home first with the takeout and you think of pranking him by making it super spicy
  • when he eats it he’s like wa-YOU DIDNT
  • and you’re like that’s hwat you get you pranked me last week
  • your relationship is just a tad bit childish, but it’s endearing 


  • is the one to wake you up with like thirty million kisses on your face
  • first words every morning; “i love you”
  • second words is probably “i burnt toast i tried to make so we’re gonna eat poptarts - is that ok?”
  • you’re brushing your teeth while jimin brushes your hair and it’s a very good system. you two are a good team
  • you still eat his burnt toast because you know how hard he worked and he looked so sad about it…
  • he kisses you another twenty billion times because “ah you’re so thoughtful and amazing and perfect”
  • you’re just like “i could say the same about you~”
  • honestly - the most positive, soft couple
  • you guys help coordinate each others outfits
  • jimin the type to throw snacks in your bag because “you should never skip meals!!!!” 
  • you throw snacks in his bag too because you’re like “don’t diet park jimin i love you the way you are - you hear me”
  • you walk to the stop hand in hand and honestly jimin’s kinda shy to kiss in public so he just gives the top of your head a kiss
  • while at work you get lots of reminder texts to eat, to watch the weather report, to tell your boss about that weekend you wanna take off
  • park jimin is a persona planner he is so good at keeping you on track god bless
  • you love him so much you always stop by after work to get ingredients for his favorite dishes
  • when he sees you making them when he gets home his tiredness just goes away and he pulls you from the stove to dance around the kitchen with you because oh god it’s been like eight hours but your face, he misses it 
  • you eat and happily chat together 
  • jimin tells you about taehyung and jungkook and then about jin and then about namjoon and suga and ofc hoseok it’s so nice to listen to him talk
  • if you do doze off by accident, jimin just grins and fixes your hair and carries you to bed 
  • im not crying - you’re crying


  • this rascal it takes like an hour to get him up and when he’s up he just pulls you down again and is like “im warm, you’re warm. let’s stay here” 
  • he wont get up you end up having to bring him his toothbrush and you’re like jeon jungkook im not your mai- and he’s like mumbling apologizes while getting up and brushing his teeth and you can’t stay mad because his hair’s messy and you’re like gdi
  • you two eat like lucky charms cereal and jungkook does the puzzle on the back and you’re like how is he still twelve 
  • you two playfully tease each other like jungkook will flip your hair while you’re rushing by and you’ll try to trip him as he’s putting on his shirt and it’s funny you guys are just kids chasing each other around the house
  • jungkook’s like “how do i look” you’re like “bad” he’s like “mhmm sure thats why you’re in love with me because i look bad hmmm” and you’re like pleASe shush and he’s like “well whatever, i think i look good hehE”
  • when you’re like “how do i look” jungkook just smiles and you’re like whaT DOES thaT MEAn and he chuckles and you hit him playfully because what a nerd
  • you guys stop by the grocery store for something to drink 
  • you choose the same thing and bicker about whose copying who 
  • he walks you to the train and you’re like “dont be late and dont tease jimin” and he leans in to give you this lil eskimo kiss and youre like oh my god and he’s like “i wont, but honestly stop talking about jimin hyung - im your boyfriend!!!”
  • during the day you get like a facetime and it’s like half of jungkooks face and in the back is like taehyung and jimin attempting to do something dumb and you’re like oh no 
  • and jungkooks like “works fun, hbu ^^”
  • you guys get home at the same time and jungkooks like let’s go out to the park and exercise 
  • this means you watch him play basketball and when you try to play against him he just dribbles around you and youre like dont be a dweeb 
  • you guys eat like street food for dinner, the life of adults who are actually kids
  • you get home and probably watch like a comedy and then jungkook falls asleep and you’re like “wow can’t even stay up past midnight” but it’s cute
  • it’s a LL cute 
Quite the Irresistible Pathologist
  • Sherlock: *about to enter the morgue*
  • Molly's Boss: *inside; annoyed* I am tired of your excuses, Hooper! Lab equipment is going missing, internal organs unaccounted for, autopsies are being carried out that are not on your list, interns are being neglected. This is unacceptable *voice rising* You seem to forget you are quite replaceable and if things don't soon improve, you're going to realise that rather quickly! Do I make myself clear?
  • Sherlock: *blinking; fists clench*
  • Molly: *snaps her gloves off* How long have you been working here, Dr. Smith? Long enough to know it is not acceptable to be drinking at work, I suppose.
  • Sherlock: *smirks*
  • Molly: Yes, Mr. Johnson wasn't on my list and I took priority; he was a victim of a violent murder. I left Mrs. Carson in the reliable hands of Dr. Hamilton. And if you'd bothered to take notice, my interns were present at both dissections.
  • -sounds of awkward shuffling-
  • Molly: *calm* As for the 'missing items', I think you'll find all the appropriate paperwork has been filled out and filed in the correct place. And, of course, you know where that is...
  • Molly's Boss: I-I- um...
  • Sherlock: *smirks wider*
  • -sounds of tapping heels-
  • Molly: Since your wife recently left you, I am going to ignore the way you have spoken to me tonight but I assure you, if it happens again, I will be filing a formal complaint. I suggest you sober up and work on your apology, sir. Good evening.
  • Sherlock: *catches her cold smile through the crack in the doors; tugs his collar*
  • Molly's Boss: *staggers quickly out of the morgue*
  • Molly: *audibly breathes out*
  • Sherlock: *waits a moment; dramatically pushes the doors open* That...was incredibly arousing, Doctor Hooper *wraps his arms around her from behind, kissing her cheek*
  • Molly: *giggling* I don't know what you're talking about.
  • Sherlock: *mumbling into her neck* You're quite the irresistible pathologist. You'd make a perfect Holmes.
  • Molly: *gasps* Why, Mr. Holmes...are you proposing to me?
  • Sherlock: *nods* Do you know something, Doctor Hooper? I think I am. But first... *mutters into her ear; deep-voiced* We're going to explore your new found assertive side. Right now.

Anonymous said: Hi um. For the love of Father. I desperately need a super protective Gadreel(like around the brothers) xpregnant!reader fic (MUCH SO GREAT FLUFFY) I mean if you get a chance c: but *twitches* seriously i like need it.

A/N: OMG yesss!! Super excited writer to the rescue! Also my first Gadreel imagine! And I looove doing pregnant!reader. Oh, and I don’t think I really mentioned it until really later on the story (need to improve in that) but it takes place at the Bunker.

Word count: 1,207

Pairing: Gadreel x Pregnant!Reader (look at me being so excited for a pregnant you)

Warnings: pregnancy.

Little Angel (Part II)


You tried to go back to sleep, snuggling closer to the angel at your side. You knew he was awake, but didn’t say anything in hopes of falling back into a deep slumber. However, after what felt like an hour and was probably ten minutes, you decided to finally give up.

“Morning beautiful,” Gadreel smiled as he saw your eyes open, the corners of your mouth lifting up as well.

“Has anybody told you that you’re the best angel in heaven?” you said, watching his eyes light up.

“Has anybody told you that you’re the best human in the world?” Gadreel pointed out, kissing your lips softly. You were about to reply with a slightly more cheesy comment, but the small grumble that came from your stomach made you stop.

“Sorry,” you giggled, pecking Gadreel’s lips as you moved to get out of bed.

But apparently you moved too fast, and the whole room spun as you tried to regain your balance. Gadreel was at your side in an instant, his firm hand on your back completely steadying you.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice full of concern. You nodded, managing a smile as your dizzy vision cleared off.

“Yeah.” You instinctively placed your hand on the barely visible bump on your stomach, “don’t worry, I think it’s pretty normal.”

Gadreel smiled, cautiously placing his hand on top of yours, his eyes softening.

Ever since you had found out about your pregnancy (meaning two days ago), you had begun to act more carefully with everything you did, and Gadreel was at his highest point of worry. You weren’t that far along, but both of you loved your child more than anything in the world. You would do whatever it took to protect it, even if it meant losing your life.

With another smile, you grabbed Gadreel’s arm and pulled him along with you to the kitchen. Nobody was in there, and looking at the old clock on the wall made you realize that it was barely seven.

“God, I feel like I could eat a cow,” you laughed, looking throughout the cupboards for something to eat. There were some empty cereal boxes, as well as some other empty or half-filled foods. Sighing, you grabbed the pancake mix; you would definitely have to do some shopping later.

“I could do breakfast,” Gadreel offered, wrapping his arms around your middle. He pressed his lips against your neck, the slight tingling caused by his actions making you giggle. “I mean, you should have as much rest as you can get.”

“Honey, we just got off bed,” you reminded him with a small chuckle, but nevertheless stepped to the side and handed him the pancake mix.

“Still, the next few months are going to be a bit tiring.”

You placed your hand on top of your stomach again, imagining how hard moving would become with the extra weight. Before you could say something else, Sam entered the kitchen, his hair sticking up in odd ways.

You had been friends with the Winchesters for almost five years now, which is why you had moved in to the Bunker when they asked you to. You went with them on hunts regularly, only staying behind when you were sick or they needed someone back home for research.

Eventually you’d met Gadreel, brought back by no other than God himself (even if none of you had any idea where He was). You’d instantly fallen for the angel, and after a few months of establishing a relationship with him, you convinced Sam and Dean to let him move in to your room.

Things escalated quickly from then on, and well, now you were pregnant with his child.

“Hey, squirt,” Sam greeted you, playfully pushing pass you as he rubbed his eyes. You smiled, getting ready for a morning round of sassing a Winchester, but Gadreel spoke before you could.

“Watch where you’re going!” He exclaimed, his fierce tone surprising you both. Sam held his hands up and took a step away from you as you put your hand on top of Gadreel’s arm gently, watching with confusion as he glared at Sam.

“Babe, it’s alright,” you smiled nervously, rubbing your hand up and down his arm in an attempt to calm him down. Finally, Gadreel snapped out of his angry demeanor, taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers together.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly to Sam, taking a deep breath. “I-I don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t worry, man, I totally get it,” Sam shrugged, his usual kind nature accepting Gadreel’d apology immediately. He then turned to you, “and I really shouldn’t have pushed you, (Y/N).”

“It’s okay,” you smiled, though you could tell that Sam was still a bit confused about Gadreel’s reaction.

You and Gadreel had agreed to keep the pregnancy secret for just a small amount of time, since having the knowledge that only you and him knew that you were expecting gave you a feeling of excitement.

You really wanted to tell Sam and Dean that you were pregnant since they were like your brothers; hell, you wanted to shout to the world that you were pregnant, but at the same time you didn’t. At the same time you wanted to keep it uniquely yours and Gadreel’s.

After a small awkward silence, you sat down and waited for Gadreel to make breakfast. Sam took the orange juice from the fridge and poured a glass for himself and then you. Twenty minutes later, Gadreel placed a plate with three pancakes in front of you, and you thanked him with a small kiss, instantly digging in.

“Somebody’s hungry today,” Dean smirked, walking into the kitchen. You never knew how he could be so cheerful in the mornings, especially before he’d even had breakfast.

“Girls get hungry too, Dean,” you rolled your eyes, but even Gadreel could tell you were kidding.

“Never this hungry,” he shrugged, ruffling your hair as he went pass you to check out the cabinets.

“(Y/N) has a right to be hungry,” Gadreel said, obviously annoyed. You smiled at him as he put another round of pancakes on your plate, hopping that Dean wouldn’t say anything else. It was sweet to see him this protective of you, but you knew that the boys were only being their usual annoying-older-brothers-like selfs.

Gadreel sat next to you once he was finished cooking, taking your hand and rubbing small circles with his thumb. Sam and Dean took the last pancakes as you finished eating, feeling like you were ready to take a nap (even if you’d barely gotten up).

“So, (Y/N), ready for the hunt?”

“Huh?” You were caught off guard by Sam, since you’d been daydreaming about that nap. “Oh — actually, I think I’m gonna pass this one.”

And every other one after it for the next year.

“What? (Y/N), you never pass a good hunt,” Dean frowned, him and Sam becoming worried. Then, unknowingly to you or Gadreel, the pieces clicked in Sam’s mind.

“Oh my god. You’re pregnant,” he whispered, his eyes becoming wide. Your mouth suddenly felt dry as Dean copied his brother’s expression.


anonymous asked:

Monsta x members shownu, wonho, kihyun, and I'm react to a member coming out to them as gay

All of the boys would be very supportive of the member that came out and none of them would love the member any less!

Shownu, Wonho & Kihyun reaction to a member coming out as gay

Shownu; He’d be so happy that the member took the courage to come out to him, he’d take it the most seriously, but in a good way. He’d want to have a conversation with the member, telling him that he would support the members no matter what. He’d be the one who would suggest that the member comes out to the rest of the boys too, saying that he would help and be with him through it all because he knows how hard it is. 

Originally posted by madtwn

Wonho; He’d be so surprised. He’d be at loss of words for a little bit, but soon compose himself when he saw that the member was really nervous. He’d wrap his arm around the member and smile, “Really? That’s awesome! Don’t worry about anything, okay? I’m here for you, and the rest of the members will be too, once you tell them.” Then he’d ask a shit ton of questions like “When did you find out you were gay? Do you have a crush on anyone?

Originally posted by kihyonie

Kihyun; “…Kihyun, i need to tell you something. It’s serious and i feel the most comfortable telling you at the moment.” Kihyun would raise an eyebrow at the member and cross his arms, “ What’s wrong?”. “..I-..I’m gay.”. Kihyun would scoff, “I know.” lmao. He’d be the one who knew about it even when the member didn’t tell him or anyone yet. He’d be the one who would take the news the best, shrugging and ruffling the member’s hair. “I still love you the same.” 

Originally posted by 1aeyong


Nothing to be sorry for

Lutteoficweek Bonus Day: Fix it fic day (Where you fix one canon scene to your liking)

I know this is horribly late but in my defense, I thought this scene deserved proper fixing and I’m extra busy and stressed lately, so… better late than never, right? Anyway,I hope you enjoy this!

Special thanks to my fave Italian muffin @sky-girls for all the help! <3

„Why did you do this?“

„What, the photos?“

„That’s not what I mean, I’m talking about the kiss!“

“Oh, that. Well, to win the competition of course. It was part of the choreography. Or do you think I kissed you for another reason?”

“What? You know very well that it was never part of the choreography!”

“I added it, I think it improved the ending.”

“Of course, congratulations, the snob had the idea for an ending like in the movies! Next time, remember this is a rink, not a movie theatre!”

“Calm down, delivery girl, or did the kiss mess that much with your head?”

“Yeah, surely not, I know exactly what I feel. And what I… don’t feel.”

“Me too. Very well.”

19, 20, 21. 21 clips holding the curtains in their place. 21 clips he counted, again and again while the guitarist wasted minute after minute away under the shower.

Matteo understood he was the only one to blame for Simón’s misery, that he was the only one to blame for Luna’s angry outburst and the look of regret in her eyes back on the rink. He was the only one to blame and yet, here he laid, not sorry at all. Could it be considered a sin to not regret screwing up?

He started counting again. Still 21 clips.

The blood continued to rush through his veins, continued to burn him from inside out. The cocktail of emotions refused to leave him just like Simón refused to get out of the bathroom. Counting the clips made no difference, why did he even bother?

Matteo switched his attention to the drapes. Two, four, six, eight. Eight. Eight, like a sequence in a choreography, like in the choreography with Luna. Luna. Kissing Luna.

With a grunt Matteo threw himself on the other side of the bed, away from the stupid curtains and the stupid drapes that inevitably led him to the moon no matter where his eyes turned to. However, it was too late, the memory flooded his brain once more.

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