sometimes knocking on the doors of the family that took them in

procraesthetics  asked:

I wonder what would happen if Dudley grew up in the wizarding world but still as a muggle? like kind of reverse AU where his parents are dead and he has to go to Lily for whatever reason? do you think he would become bitter like Petunia about magic?

Lily remembered her sister, how there had been a time she was curious and delighted about magic, before it slowly sank in that she could look and not touch.

The last thing Petunia had said to Lily before she died was a chilly goodbye, ending a holiday dinner where they’d had a shrieking row in the entryway. Petunia had said freak and Lily had hissed better than this, better than this being my whole fucking world, Tune, do you even see yourself, are you happy–

And now here was Dudley Vernon Dursley fussing himself to sleep as Lily walked the halls of the Godric’s Hollow house. His tiny soft hands with their tiny soft fingernails curled under her chin, the same way Harry always had.

She passed James, who was gently bouncing his way up the hall the opposite way. “I think he’s asleep,” James mouthed over Harry’s tousled head. His hair was the same mess, bent down to peer at his sleeping son.

Lily stopped where she stood, her nephew heavy on her chest, her husband smiling, her sister buried. “James,” she said. “How are we going to do this?”

“Oh,” he said. “Hey. Don’t you cry, you’ll start them off– unless you need to cry, I mean, you go ahead, hey, sweetheart, hey, it’s alright, you just let it out.” He stepped forward, shifting Harry gently to his other shoulder, and pressed his forehead to hers. “We tuck them in, okay, that’s what we do next. Then we go to our own bed, okay, and go to sleep, and when we wake up it’ll be a new day.”

“A new day,” she said. “Another day– James, that’s the– I’m so tired.”

“So let’s sleep. It’ll look better in the morning,” he said. “And if it doesn’t look better this morning, it’ll look better in the next one.”

“You promise?”

“Better than that. I’ll show you. Every day,” he said and kissed her cold forehead.

Dudley had not shown up on the Potters’ doorstep with the milk bottles. Lily had gotten a phone call from the landline she still had installed in Godric’s Hollow, about an accident, and she had gone down to the Muggle police station to identify the bodies.

The cupboard under the stairs was filled with spiders, broomsticks, and the sewing machine Lily’s mother had given her when she married James– that’s all. Dudley slept downstairs. Uncle Remus taught Dudley and Harry to knock out coded messages through the wall their rooms shared.

In the backyard, beside a rickety porch and an ambitious hedge, James taught them to fly– first on little tot brooms where their toes brushed the grass the whole time, then out of the barrels of practice brooms James used for lessons and coaching Little League Quidditch.

When the boys turned ten, five weeks apart, they both got shiny new Nimbuses on Dudley’s birthday (which came first), and a set of enchanted Quidditch balls on Harry’s, to share. The Bludgers were enchanted to be very kind but Dudley spent long afternoons whacking them far afield while Harry chased the Snitch at his back.

Harry had a scar on his forehead, like a jagged bit of lightning. Dudley had no scars– the car crash that had killed his parents hadn’t touched him where he sat strapped into a car seat in the back, chewing on a stuffed dinosaur toy.

Lily did not believe in lying to the children. She was bare years off being a child herself, and spare moments on the far side of a war. When Dudley asked about his parents, she told him there had been an accident. She pulled pictures off the shelf and wrote Petunia’s old university friends for more.

Photographs came by mailman, the images still and unnatural to Dudley’s eye. Every day he’d gone out to play, for years, he’d been waving at the picture near the back door of his aunt and uncle on their wedding day, and they waved back every time.

“She was very clever,” Lily said. “Your mom liked to know everything.”

“And my dad?”

“Vernon liked… cars?” James offered. “That’s the word, right, Lily?”

“I didn’t know him very well,” Lily said. “He liked drills, I think; he worked for a firm that made them, and he talked about that a lot.”

Dudley brushed his thumbs over the dull edges of the photos. When Lily went off to Auror headquarters the next morning for work, James bundled the boys up and took them on an impromptu invisible tour of Grunnings Drill Manufacturing Inc.

They tiptoed down halls and past water coolers and ringing fellytones. They held hands under the Cloak as they dodged around the machines on the manufacturing floor, thumping and pounding and whirring away loudly enough that Harry and Dudley could whisper to each other under the noise. An elevator took them all the way up to the top floor. Harry whistled cheerily and eerily along with the elevator music while the Muggles slowly edged toward the doors and pressed floor buttons lower than they’d originally wanted.

There were boxes and cabinets and folders and desks and staticky monitor screens full of numbers strewn in endless grids. “Merlin’s knuckles,” said Harry, who was seven and a half and rather proud of this expletive. “People can look at this all day, their whole lives, and not die?”

“Work is hard work,” said James.

“At least mum gets to curse things.”

“But my dad liked it?” Dudley said, peering at a white board that was bleeding enthusiastic marker. “There’s a lot of things, here. Maybe he liked knowing things, too.”

When the boys asked about the scar on Harry’s forehead, Lily and James looked at each other. “You know how sometimes we sit with Uncle Remus and talk about a war?” James said. “Or with Ms. Amelia or Mr. Mundungus.”

“Mr. Mundungus is kinda smelly,” Harry said helpfully.

“It’s not nice to say so though,” said James, and Lily made a face.

“Are we raising them to be nice?” Lily said.

“I’m trying,” said James.

“You talk about a war,” said Harry and shrugged. Dudley nodded.

“There was a very bad man, in those days,” said James.

“Voldemort,” said Lily, and James made a face.

“He was so scary a lot of people don’t like to say his name, even now,” said James. “And he was coming after us because we had been fighting against him, in the war. He came to the house and he tried to hurt you, Harry. But it didn’t work. It hurt him instead, and gave you that scar.”

“Is he going to come back?” said Dudley, who was paler than his normal pink.

“No one’s heard of him since then,” said Lily.

“Where were you?” said Harry, because all his life they had been right there.

“Oh,” said Lily, but her throat closed up.

“We were at Dudley’s mum and dad’s funeral,” said James. “Our friend– our friend Sirius was watching you two. The bad man, he came to the house. He. Well. I.”

“Sirius died,” said Lily, one hand squeezing James’s knee and the other reaching down to brush hair off Dudley’s forehead. “You lived, Harry, and Voldemort vanished. And that’s why sometimes people stare in the streets, baby.” James tweaked Harry’s collar absently.

Two days after they had buried Lily’s sister, the Potters had stood together in the first chills of November and buried James’s brother.

Sirius had been burned off the Black family tree years before. Lily and James had talked to his cousin Andromeda, to Remus, and then they had laid him to rest in the Potter family plot. At the wake, they’d told old jokes about squirrel breath, shedding, and man’s best friend. Remus had fallen asleep on their couch and stayed for a month.

It took a two hour row with HR for Lily to get two passes to the Ministry’s Bring Your Kid To Work Day.

“He’s a Muggle.”

“He’s not,” Lily snapped. “He’s family.”

She had to get permission, sign a million forms, and she also had to take the boys in early so that Dudley could get smothered in the spells that would keep the Anti-Muggle wards around the Ministry from activating on him. “If a Muggle stumbles in somehow, they just see a funny-smelling supply cabinet and turn back around,” Lily told Dudley. He nodded and dragged Harry off by the wrist to go look at the fountain.

The windows were pouring sunlight into the underground room– the maintenance workers had just gotten a win on their contract negotiations and had banished the grimy rain-spattered windows of the previous weeks. The light hit the falling water, the golden statues, and the small excitable crowd of Ministry dependents who were gathering in the atrium. Dudley was fishing about in the fountain for Knuts to toss back out again, elbow-deep, and Harry was laughing and coming up with weird wishes to make on them.

Lily hadn’t said son. She’d said family, and that was true enough, wasn’t it? She didn’t say son– she had a son, and she had a nephew, a ward, another child who came to her after nightmares and scraped knees. It was not less, it was just words.

Lily worried about stealing more things from Petunia. Tuney had shrieked at her, in ladies’ restrooms and suburban foyers, had hissed at her in grocery store aisles and family dinners, because Lily got everything. And now Lily had her son.

Lily could just imagine it– could just see Petunia’s face twisting and chin stabbing at the air. You could have anything, and you took my son– my son!

“You left him to me,” Lily whispered, but that wasn’t quite right. “You left,” she whispered, and that wasn’t quite right either, so she strode off toward the fountain to ask the boys if they wanted to go see the Auror spellwork ranges. Dudley’s sodden shirt sleeves dripped all over the Ministry floors. Harry’s hair fell down into his eyes and they both grinned bright enough to rival the spelled sunlight.

Keep Reading (Ao3)

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Hello neighbour from hell, may I help renovate your house?

Strap your seatbelts, this will be Odyssey long one. First thing first, let me take some time to introduce you to Cruella de Vil of this story, who I hated for many years with a fury of a thousand raging diarrheas. You know that joke if you had a gun with two bullets and you were in a room with Hitler, Bin Laden, and x-person, you would shoot x-person twice? Well, not only would I shoot her, I would proceed to beat her with gunstock, perform exorcism on her lifeless body (just in case) and then burry the remains. She is stereotypical neighbour from hell. And hell is in this case the Mediterranean.

I live in a medium sized Mediterranean town with ancient heritage; all the houses are old and jammed close to each other. My neighbourhood is also made of these stone houses which share walls, so for instance when my neighbour to the right plays guitar in his bedroom, I hear it in my living room (I don’t mind him though, he is always really quiet, respects the hours and plays Rolling Stones and Metallica really well) and when I fart in my toilet, Cruella on the left side hears it clearly. Suits her well.

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Eric Richard Bittle is Jewish

Tw: mentions of antisemitism

Ok, hear me out. I know there is a lot of evidence pointing to Bitty being a good Southern Christian Gay and like, that is completely plausible and if that’s your jam, great! But because I love projecting and rubbing my Jew-y hands on everything, here is a theory about Bitty being an extremely assimilatory southern Jew who only really gets in touch with his culture and Jewish identity once he gets to college in the North East.

So I did some research and while “phelps” (Bitty’s maternal family name) isn’t the dead ringer that “Birkholtz” or “Zimmermann” is, it still has a history of being a Jewish surname in the Anglo-Saxon region. So to me, Bitty is Jewish on his mom’s side, but his paternal family is very southern Christian and so, really that’s what he grew up with, because being Jewish in the south? Well… that’s a whole thing.

My mom grew up in Atlanta Georgia, and in her high school, she was the only Jewish person by a long shot. My grandfather taught at Emory and so they didn’t belong to a temple, and went to Hillel sometimes during the bug holidays, but for he most part she wasn’t involved in religious affairs because it wasn’t “normal”.

I think something along the same lines happened to Bitty. His Moomah always made Jewish food for their family, but only made Southern food for company. At Chanukah, they would put up a Christmas tree, but put a Jewish star as an ornament and call it a “Chanukah bush.”

Bitty had a friend in second grade named Timmy who came over for a play date one day, only to never come back because his mom saw their mezuzah on the front door and forbid them from hanging out again. “Timmy doesn’t need to be influenced by that kind”

After that, well, Bitty stops asking his mama to make kasha varnishkas for his lunch (someone once told him it looked like he was eating pasta with dirt in it) and he stops going to temple on rosh hashana, and he starts calling his Christmas tree a Christmas tree. When someone tells him he “doesn’t look Jewish” he knows it’s a compliment.

The Monday at school after the Closet Incident, there’s a swastika keyed into his locker.

Because it’s one thing being the gay kid in a small town, it’s a whole other thing to be gay AND Jewish. It’s like he’s had two strikes against him since he was born.

When he moves to Madison he begs his mom not to put up a mezuzah. He can’t understand why she starts crying, but she doesn’t put it up. It’s a fresh start.

The rest of middle school and high school, Bitty secularizes.

When one of his teammates in his coed team tells him he’s acting “like a Jew” when he asks her for money for the team shirts, Bitty bites his tongue so hard he draws blood.

When all the kids in his tenth grade English class throw pennies at Mr. Bloom during his lecture on Eli Wiesel, Bitty stays after and helps pick them up.

Fast forward to freshman year at Samwell, and Bitty is hanging around the haus just before Rosh Hashana.

Holster is talking to Ransom and Jack about putting something together for dinner, maybe picking up some matzo ball soup mix and some ruggies from a deli near by.

Bitty, who shuddered at the though of soup coming out of a box blurted out without thinking “you know, I could whip up some of my grandmas matzo ball soup? And maybe some kugel?”

All three of the other boys look at him with wide eyes.

“I didn’t know you were Jewish Bittle,” Jack quirked a brow in intrigue.

“Well,” Bitty said, face heating up, “I- I’m not JEWISH Jewish. My mom is Jewish. My Moomah is Jewish, but ME? I don’t know.”

Everyone else seemed perplexed by this statement, but Holster’s eyes lowered a bit.

Bitty took that to mean ‘I hate you why would you say that you should just leave’ and promptly scrambled out the door, a whirlwind of “sorry got to go’s”

Later that week, someone knocked on Bitty’s dorm door, and that someone was Adam Jacob Birkholtz, certified Nice Jewish Boy and hulking mass.

“Uh, can we talk?” Holster asked a bit sheepishly.

Bitty agreed and lead them into his room.

Holster sat on his tiny bed and asked, “what did you mean before? When you said your mom and grandma are Jewish but not you?” It was tentative, but Bitty could tell the question wasn’t an accusation.

“Well I mean, I don’t really celebrate anything anymore. For all intents and purposes my house was a secular house all throughout middle school and high school.”

“But bitty,” holster sighed, “just because your half Jewish doesn’t mean you can’t be Jewish. And even if you aren’t practicing that doesn’t mean you can’t be Jewish either. I had a friend in high school that was half Jewish and people at temple would make him feel unwelcome. You don’t have to worry about that here.”

“Oh um, thanks? But it’s not that. Look, I know I’m Jewish. People have been making that clear to me for my whole life.”

“What do you mean?” Holster asked.

Bitty then began to regale all of the things he’s experienced. All of the prejudice, the slurs, the pennies, the swastikas. All of the pain that came with being the Jew in the south.

Holster listened, “Bits, that’s really rough dude. And like, I get it, some things are too painful. But it’s not like that at Samwell. Sure there are assholes everywhere, and it’s not like there’s never any antisemitism but, if you haven’t noticed based on the hockey team already, you aren’t alone here! There’s a whole Jewish community that’s got your back.

"Listen, why don’t you come to Hillel with me for Rosh Hashana, we can make your Moomas soup together! And maybe even Jack will help and not complain. Just, I don’t want you to have to feel like that about yourself.”

Bitty begins to decline the invitation but then something stops him. He remembers being a little kid, dipping apple slices in honey and chasing his mama around the house with sticky fingers.

“Alright I’ll go.”

And he does.
And he loves it.

He starts going to Hillel with Holster after that, and sometimes Jack tags along, sometimes so does Shitty. And in his Sophomore year, Nursey comes along with, and then his junior year comes Tango.

He makes matzo ball soup by the barrel, and re-learns the prayers for the Shabbat candles.

But it’s in his freshman year that he goes home for Winter break and pulls out the old Star of David ornament and puts it on the tree.

He asks his mom if he could help light the Chanukah candles and she looks shocked at first, but then she smiles and says “of course sweetheart.”

Later he hands her a present. It’s a long and thin box wrapped in silver paper with a little blue bow on top.

She takes it from his hand carefully, like its a shard of glass or something.

She opens it and It’s a silver mezuzah cover.

It’s a fresh start.

anonymous asked:

You should write some mute lance, whether its him having been mute in the past, being a selective mute, being injured and becoming mute, or straight up not talking anymore, i think you'd write it well

Okay!! 

I kinda went on my own here, Whoops

On contrary to belief Lance didn’t like to talk. Well scratch that, he loved talking but he didn’t like to be talked over. Everytime he was talked over he immediately clamped up and he felt a lump form in his throat. Being the youngest in his family only lead to Lance being talked over constantly. 

It wasn’t uncommon for Lance to stop telling a story because everyone started a different conversation. It wasn’t uncommon for Lance to never finish a thought because someone would constantly interrupt him. 

Lance wasn’t a fighter so when this happened he would just clamp his mouth shut and listen to what the other person had to say, because it was obviously more important. 

Lance found himself talking less and less around his parents, siblings, and classmates. Nobody ever commented on Lance’s new quietness so Lance had no reason to start talking again. Lance would go days without saying anything to anyone. He communicated through shrugs and nods. 

Why should I talk, everyone is happier when I don’t. 

-

Fast forward to the Garrison when Lance met his roommate Hunk. Hunk wasn’t loud but he wasn’t quiet either. Sometimes Lance didn’t even hear him enter the room while other days Lance would hear him hallways away.  He liked Hunk, Hunk never pressured him to talk, Hunk just kept him company throughout their days. 

Hunk would ramble about projects he was working on and homework and Lance would listen quietly. It didn’t even dawn on Lance that he had never said anything to Hunk before in his life. 

They were both in their room, Lance on his bed reading a book while Hunk was laying on the floor building something. 

“Dang it, these wires all look the same, I can never tell them apart.” Hunk ran his hands through his hair in annoyance. 

Lance looked at his distressed roommate and looked down at his book. “Why don’t you put colored tape around the different wires.” Lance’s voice slightly cracked due to the lack of use and Hunk screamed. Not like a small scream but like ‘help someone is getting stabbed scream.’ 

Lance jumped causing is book to fly across his bed and he stared at Hunk who was staring at Lance his hands over his mouth. 

Lance swallowed around a small lump that was forming at the base of his throat. He inhaled “Sorry I didn’t mean to…scare you?” Lance wasn’t sure what he did wrong exactly. 

Hunk blinked a few times and slowly removed his hands from his mouth. His breathing started to slow down as he continued to stare at Lance. 

Lance started to shift where he sat. Why he is just staring at me? Lance was about to bolt out of the room but Hunk regained his bearings before he moved. 

“I’m sorry for screaming! You just have never talked before and I thought you were mute or something. Then you just spoke and I got scared. Like I wasn’t expecting that at all.” Hunk inhaled until his lungs ached “Sorry I’m rambling.” 

Lance smiled at his roommate “Hunk you ramble all the time, I’m used to it.”

Hunk started to laugh and before Lance knew it he was laughing with Hunk. They only stopped when they heard a knock on their door. 

“Officer Davis, opened the door. We have a complaint of a noise disturbance.”

Hunk and Lance shared a look and started laughing and Hunk went to open the door. 

-

Hunk and Lance became best friends within a week. They had shared everything with each other, and Hunk didn’t interrupt Lance once when he was talking. If he accidently did he would apologize immediately and beg Lance to continue what he was saying. 

Lance started to love talking again. 

-

The only time Lance would have trouble talking would be when he came back from a break. When Lance was around his family long enough he would clamp up again, but slowly Hunk would bring him back out of his shell. 

-

Hunk could only do so much and sometimes it wasn’t enough. They had just saved a planet from the Galra and they were all meeting up with the leader. 

Now Lance didn’t usually talk during diplomatic missions but he felt obligated to speak up when it concerned him. The leader was discussing how helpful the blue lion was and how it help save the planet. 

“You must tell me Blue paladin, how does the ice work?” The leader placed his (hand?) tentacle on Lance’s shoulder. 

“Well you see, Blue and I ha-” 

“That’s interesting but like was it just the lion acting on their own?”

“Kinda, you see I have to put my bay-”

“So are you not needed to fly Blue? If she does all the work what do you do?”

“Well I have to fly he-”

“But they are magic lions, surely they can fly on their own.” 

Lance opened his mouth to respond but slammed it shut before any words were formed. Then Lance did what he did best, he shrugged. That was all he did. 

The leader looked at him a bit skeptical before nodding “So how does the ice get formed?” 

Lance shrugged again. He kept his eyes directly on the leader and his lips sealed. Lance was nudged by Shiro, he didn’t care he wasn’t going to talk. He looked at the leader one more time before walking towards Blue and flew back to the castle. 

-

Lance didn’t bounce back like Hunk prayed he would. It had been about 2 weeks since the last time he said anything. He just shrugged and nodded. Never even opening his mouth except to eat. The castle was quieter than any of them wanted it to be. Mealtimes were filled with force conversation and Lance scarfing down his food in order to leave. 

Even during missions Lance wouldn’t say anything, Blue would send the other lions messages so everyone knew that things were going well but Lance never talked. 

When they met new species Lance would stand in the background silently, just watching everyone. 

Hunk tried his hardest. He would talk about things he knew Lance liked, but Lance would just smile and pat him on the back and walk away. 

The team couldn’t get Lance to talk, and they tried. They did everything they could but Lance would just sit in silence. He didn’t even talk to Coran, and that broke the older man heart. 

-

The paladins were hosting a party in the castle with about 7 species from different planets. They all worked together and received a huge win. 

Everyone was talking and enjoying the party and Lance was standing by the wall sipping his drink. He watched a boy, around his age, walk towards him. 

His arms and neck were covered in tattoos and he has pointy ears with piercing all over his body. His skin was a soft blue and his hair was a bright red. He smiled at Lance and stood by him. 

The boy thanked Lance for saving his planet, and of course Lance caught onto his flirting techniques. 

Lance laughed, like a real laugh. The first laugh in weeks maybe months. It echoed through the room and every paladin heard it. They attempted not to make it obvious but they were all listening to see if Lance would do anything more. 

Lance, who was completely oblivious to what his teammates were doing, stuck his hand out to the boy. “The names Lance.” 

Self-Projecting? Do I Know Her? 

Hell yeah I was self-projecting. 

I’m basically how I write Lance XD 

I hope you like it!

Sorry it took so long!!

Thank you for this!

Btw give it up for my bisexual son ❤💜💙

Erik Klose and the Twinyards

I’ve been thinking about this and (this is so long, gosh):

  • Erik doesn’t like the twins
  • at all
  • and he hates that because he knows Nicky loves them both to death, and he wants to support him and that tiny speck of family he has left but
  • indeed
  • he loves Nicky
  • and it’s hard, you know?

Keep reading

Come Here - Jughead x Reader

Request — Anonymous asked: Can you write one where you think jughead looks amazing in the south side jacket and you let him know and you always pull him by the jacket to kiss him

A/N — I could not get over this request, that finale episode of Riverdale last night FUCKED me up so bad like… can Jughead not get any hotter it’s great and I’m actually loving it. Also, this contains spoilers (duh) since it’s based on episode 13 so if you haven’t watched it yet I’d recommend not to read it if you haven’t watched it yet. Anyway I hope you enjoy this imagine and it may or may not turn into some sort of smut (?), and I’ve changed this up a bit so I hope you don’t mind.

Words: 1050

Warnings: Heavy make out

(Y/N) , (Y/L/N) , (H/C) , (E/C) - Your name, your last name, hair colour, eye colour.

Riverdale was finally coming to a peace. The mystery of Jason Blossom’s murder finally came to a close and all was calm. (Y/N), Jughead, Archie, Betty and Veronica all sat in a booth at Pop’s sipping on a milkshake flavour of their choice. This whole year, you and Jughead got closer and closer due to working on the case with him and the rest of the gang trying to figure out the murder of Jason. Spending long hours alone with you and your crush at the Blue and Gold after school made you really realise your feelings about him and how it affected you. One night, (Y/N) and Jughead stayed together investigating down at Sweetwater River and shared a kiss since the two of you knew that there was sexual tension was there with them. Ever since that incident they haven’t touched each other since. Sure, every time they have a moment alone they always wonder who’s leading who first, but the both of you were two shy at that moment.

After Pop’s, Archie walked Veronica, Betty went home to join her family for dinner and Jughead took (Y/N) to his FP’s house in the Southside. When Jughead broke the news to everyone that he got transferred to Southside High and live with his new foster family instead of living in Riverdale with Archie and his dad. Everyone was shocked and devastated by the news but not as much as (Y/N). So this was her only chance to try express her feelings towards him before he leaves since she doesn’t know when she’ll ever see him again. He bent down to the doormat in front of the door, picking up a key and digging it into the door. The house was still knocked around and ruined since he last came and had his breakdown, making Jughead get chills. You knew something was bothering him, so you walked over and held onto his arm.

“Hey Juggie, are you okay?” You asked him, looking up into his green eyes with your (E/C) ones. He sighed deeply, taking off his familiar crown-shaped beanie and throwing it to the ground.

“I don’t know, I mean… I’m not feeling it. This place just reminds me of him, y’know. This may be my last time ever coming here, (Y/N), since I have no idea how long my dad will be in jail for and I’ll be living with my foster family.” He brushed a hand through his hair as he explained to her the situation. He sat down on FP’s couch, holding his face in his hands as shortly after, you joined him.

“H-Hey, Jug? Since this may be the last time I talk to you for a while, God knows how long, I just wanted to get something straight. Since we kissed at Sweetwater River that one night, I literally have not stopped thinking about you. I’ve had this feeling about you for, I don’t know, months now. You make me so happy every time I see you and it makes me smile knowing that you actually acknowledge me. I guess,” (Y/N) paused. “I guess I love you, Jughead. I love you, Jughead Jones.”  You finally admitted. He stared at you, before you noticed his lips creep up into a smile as he scooted over to you, placing his hand on yours as he stroked his thumb against your soft skin.

“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” He smirked at you, making you bite your lip. And just like that, you found your lips back on his once again. The familiar sensation running through your body sent tingles down your spine as it did for him as well. He moved his hand from yours to your left cheek as the kiss deepened. You felt yourself smile in the kiss as your tongues intertwined.

As the two of you both pulled away, he smirked leaning over and pulling you onto his lap and kissed you passionately once again in his arms. You pulled his face against yours again connecting each others lips. He moved his hands to grip onto your shirt clinging at your waist as your tugged on his hair. A small groan escaped his lips, easily turning him on. He then picked you up, pushing your back against a wall as he held you up, quickly after attaching his swollen lips back at (Y/N)’s matching ones. As you tipped your head back, he kissed his way down to your neck, nibbling against your collarbone making a moan escape your lips. In the middle of leaving his mark against your burning skin until a loud knock interrupted your heavy moment, breaking up the intense moment. Jughead quickly put you down as he fixed his clothes, walking towards the door and opening it.

As (Y/N) waited for him to be finished, she quickly stood up pulling her jacket over her body as she waited behind the door to find a returning Jughead, holding his fathers Serpent jacket. He shut the door, staring down at it.

“Is it your dad’s?” You asked in curiosity. Jughead simple just nodded, still scanning his eyes over the embroidery stitched into its leather.

“Should I?” He turned his gaze to settle on her, wondering if he was to wear it. “The Serpents dropped by and gave me it. They have my back, (Y/N), does that make me one too?”

“Jug, if you want to join The Serpents that doesn’t make you a bad guy. Stop worrying, at least try on the jacket!” She gushed over him, leaning against the wall as she watched him.

Jughead stared down at the jacket, taking in it’s final details before slipping it onto his broad arms, turning to look at a mirror as he adjusted it, a smirk falling onto his lips as he turned back to look at you. “So, how do I look?”

(Y/N) smirked, taking herself off the wall as she bit her lip, strutting over to him.

“I’m loving this bad boy Jughead Jones, hopefully I get to see him more often. Come here.” She smirked back at him, pulling him to her by his jacket and leaned up to finish where they left off.

A/N — So this didn’t exactly fit the request, so hopefully this can be a part 2 sometime when I get some time to write it where the reader pulls him around by his jacket because it’s so hOt. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this imagine although I rushed the fuck through it so please don’t mind me.

Favorite Color? (Soulmate Au)

Originally posted by newtloveshisfantasticbeasts

Request: A soulmate Au where you see grey until you meet your soulmate.


The world had always been grey for (Y/n), and it would probably be grey for the rest of her life. You see (Y/n) was raised by a pure-blood family, and being a pure-blood came at a cost. They never meet their soulmate. Sure on occasions, if you were lucky, they’re betrothed was their soulmate but most of the time it never happened.

She was only 7 when she found out that most people could see in color. Which surprised her, considering her parents also only saw grey. That’s when (Y/n)’s parents explained about soulmates and how if she met hers then the world became colorful. Even then she still was okay with seeing grey for the rest of her  life.

That was until (Y/n) arrived in Illvermorny. Sure for awhile all the kids saw grey but by 5th year almost all of them could see in color. All except the pure-bloods. She tried to ignore the taunts of being called “Soulless.” or the taunts of “Hey pure-blood are you sure there’s even someone for you out there?” That’s when the hatred for grey bubbled inside her. 

It was that very blasted color that kept her from being normal. That one color. The bullying was extremely worse one day and that’s when she met the Goldsteins. 

“Hey Pure-blood you do know what color this is right?” A boy taunted waving a grey fabric in her face. No matter how hard she concentrated (Y/n) couldn’t tell, but she knew what happened if she got it wrong. Tears gathered in her eyes as she grew more and more frustrated. “Hey pure-blood I don’t hear an answer!”

“Leave her alone! She’s not bothering anyone” A voice cried out catching the group off guard. Another student, a girl, stood with her arms cross. She was a fairly tall girl with short wavy hair and a frown was on her face.

The boy huffed slightly. “Aw come on Queenie it’s just a little fun!” (Y/n) watched cautiously as the girl made her way over with a sweet smile on her face. It honestly scared (Y/n).

Queenie let out a giggle and replied,”Oh I’m sure it is, but do you want me to tell your soulmate about your other fun?” The boy’s face seemed to get paler and Queenie smirked. “That’s what I thought now run along.” Tina plopped down beside (Y/n) as the boy quickly made his get away. “Are you alright sweetie?”

(Y/n) shifted slightly and gave Queenie a thankful look. “Yea it’s pretty normal…” She mumbled fiddling with her hands.

Queenie huffed slightly shaking her head causing her curls to bounce in every direction. “Well it shouldn’t!” She turned to (Y/n) and smiled. “I’m Queenie Goldstein by the way.”

(Y/n) smiled slightly. “(Y/n) (L/n)… It’s nice to meet you…”

It seemed after that day (Y/n) no longer cared about colors. Cause when she met the Goldstein sisters she found out that not only pure-bloods got stuck seeing grey. That in fact sometimes other people met their soulmates later on in life. In fact, she had accepted that she might not meet her soulmate and decided that grey was her favorite color. That was until she met her soulmate.


(Y/n) had been slightly fidgety all day. Queenie was bringing her soulmate over to meet her along with his friend. She would have been glad for it, but this was not the week. You see (Y/n) and her parents had struck a deal a long time ago. She had 1 year to find her soul mate or else she would be married off. This was her last week to find him, but she knew that no matter what she couldn’t say no to Queenie.

So here she was in one of her nice dresses waiting for Queenie to show up. She glanced around making sure that her apartment was all set. Her great horned owl, Athena, was perched in her cage sleeping. All her papers were neatly organized on the coffee table in the living room. The flames in her fireplace were going steady and she glanced into the kitchen. the table was all set for everyone and the food was still cooking.

A small knock sounded on the door and (Y/n) was instantly at the door. “Queenie!” She exclaimed hugging the girl tightly. 

Queenie let out a laugh and pulled out of the hug. She grinned widely at the girl. “(Y/n)! It’s so good to see you!” She stepped inside and pulled a short man in with her. “(Y/n) meet Jacob my soulmate!” Queenie leaned in and whispered excitedly,”He’s also a no-maj so let’s try to keep this quiet.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widened slightly at the word “No-maj” but kept her mouth shut. She and Queenie knew the consequence of being caught… But if Queenie was happy that was all that mattered. She smiled at Jacob and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you Jacob.”

He smiled slightly. “It’s nice to meet you as well  (Y/n). Queenie speaks fondly about you…”

(Y/n) smiled slightly at the thought. She suddenly remembered something and frowned. “Hey wasn’t there supposed someone else?”

Queenie giggled and replied,”He’s outside the door… He’s just a little shy” She took Jacob’s hand and sang, “Come on Newt. She won’t bite.”

(Y/n) watched as a tall man came into view. His curly hair covering his eyes as he stared at the ground. He was carrying a slightly beat up suitcase as well. “Hello I’m-.” The moment his eyes met hers a pain shot through her skull.

That’s when she saw it. At first she didn’t know how to describe it. It was the most beautiful color she had ever seen and almost immediately the name clicked. She was staring into his green eyes. That moment she decided at that very moment that green was her favorite color. His eyes were wide in shock.

“Newt? (Y/n)?” Jacob’s voice pulled the two back from their moment. ‘Are you two alright?”

(Y/n) let out a small laugh and turned to them again. Queenie instantly noticed the sparkle in her eyes. (Y/n) grinned and replied, “Yea Jacob perfectly fine.”

Newt stepped beside her and hesitantly took her hand. “I guess I should introduce you to my Soulmate,” Newt joked sending a flutter of butterflies through (Y/n).

Soulmate…. (Y/n) smiled softly at the word. I could love this….


HEY GUYS I’M BACK FROM THE DEAD! That’s right I’m back I have finally been inspired and it’s about time! Also any valentines day ideas would be awesome! Anyways this is my longest one I’m pretty sure so I hope you like it!s

Break-Up Novella.

PART ONE: I WON’T GIVE UP.

Here we have the very first part to a very anticipated, very emotional, very long-winded, very angsty-filled break-up story where we see the missus and Harry split and cope in ways that only bring them back to one another, closer than before and deeper in love than ever before. A little novella(?) that I’ve been working my hardest on and spending my free time perfecting just for you guys. 

I cannot thank you enough for being patient with and understanding that it’s been something I want to be 100% happy with. It’s been tough, I’m not going to lie. It’s been hard to find motivation because I’ve not written very many sad stories whilst being on here; I’ve read them! But, not written many, so, I hope this is the start of something new (cue High School Musical reference).

I’m still very iffy over the argument scene. So, bear with uit, haha. It’s the first piece of angst that I’ve written…

But, I’m finally SO happy to be sharing it with you! For the next 5 days, you’re going to be taken on a journey of emotions between the two of them. Enjoy! x

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[ to @newtscamamder ] salut elena, and happy happy happy birthday!!! it’s been entirely too long since i’ve talked to you, and even longer since i wrote something for you, so enjoy some spur-of-the-moment drarry headcanons <3

  • after the war, the first thing harry said to draco was at least a little surprising, if not worrying 
  • ”move in with me, malfoy”
  • ”no way in hell, potter”
  • apparently, there was a way in hell
  • a nervous draco showed up to the address harry had owled him months before and knocked softly
  • the door swung open to reveal a ruffled potter, who immediately smiled as he saw draco
  • “i was hoping you’d show up, draco”
  • two weeks later, they’re skirting around the apartment and acting as if they barely knew each other
  • which, of course, wasn’t true
  • harry was acutely aware that draco brushed his teeth with his left hand, but turned a book page with his right
  • and draco was intensely trying to ignore the fact that harry cleaned up every single mess in the house without ever bringing it up to the blond
  • two months later, they’re friendly
  • joking around about the years they spent in misplaced hatred
  • “still think you got a chance with the weaslette, potter?”
  • “only if that flower girl – what’s her name, peony? – would take you off my hands”
  • quietly, they grew closer and closer
  • close enough to lay on top of each other
  • and jokingly flirt
  • and sometimes not jokingly flirt
  • after their first year, harry took draco to a christmas at the weasleys
  • “they’re my family, and i wouldn’t want to just leave you at home”
  • it was awkward and shifty
  • until molly took draco into the biggest bear hug and whispered “i’ll go knit you a sweater”
  • draco wouldn’t admit it, but he had tears in his eyes
  • after that, draco and harry were practically inseparable
  • the only way one could tell they weren’t actually together is by seeing that they weren’t hold hands
  • until one day, they did
  • maybe it was draco that grabbed harry’s hand, or harry grabbed draco’s
  • neither of them knew who made the first move
  • they never mentioned that moment
  • or the little sparks that flew whenever their fingers touched
  • but it was always on the back of their minds
  • and then, it was always in front
  • then it was on the tip of their tongues
  • and one night, tipsy draco told even tipsier harry
  • “i want to hold your hand all the time”
  • granted, it wasn’t the most articulated thought that draco ever had
  • but it was enough to get the point across
  • and enough to ignite the flame in harry’s heart and make harry’s eyes shine
  • harry reached over and grabbed draco’s hand
  • neither of them let go.
We Are Young: Chapter 16

Throne of Glass High School AU

Summary: Senior Rowan Whitethorn is new to town. It doesn’t take him long to get use to a new school, make new friends, even join the local hockey team. But it also doesn’t take him long to meet sophomore and figure skater Aelin Galathynius. And it doesn’t take him long to realize one thing; he can’t stand her.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

——————–

Aedion pushed open the door to the ice cream parlor, basking in the chilled AC air that all but slapped him in the face.

It was only the beginning of summer, and yet the temperature was already blazing hot. He almost felt like the heat was suffocating him when he stepped outside. The moment he stepped out the door, sweat coated his skin.  

Then again, he probably shouldn’t have complained. He had been talking to Aelin the night before and it was apparently twice as hot in Italy.

Aedion took a moment to glance around the ice cream parlor. It was booming with people. Families, teenagers, old couples. Everyone was out and about, stopping by to enjoy a cold scoop of ice cream on the insanely hot day.

He was supposed to be meeting Fenrys there before they headed to the pond for a swim. But Fenrys him already messaged him saying he was running a bit late. Still, Aedion couldn’t help but look around, hoping he was going to be able to snatch up a table or booth to sit down in. But they were all full.

That’s when he saw her.

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Sweet Dreams **

Request- Hi! Could u do a Bucky imagine where the reader is Tony’s daughter and she had a wet dream about Bucky and tells Wanda and Nat about it and the boys hear the conversation and Tony gets all protective and all? You can choose the final!!I love your blog btw♡ from @awesomebrokenangelworldus-blog

Bucky Barnes X Stark!Reader

Word Count: 1763

Warnings: There’s a wet dream! that’s pretty NSFW.

A/N: Hello! I’m sorry this took a while! I hope this is alright!! Please let me know :) xo 

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Giant

high school supercorp au. kara struggling to keep her superpowers at bay around the pretty super nerd. kara hasn’t grown into her hero image yet & lena hasn’t grown into her name.

There’s a giant leading me to God knows where
I’ve got news, I’m going my way
Fighting, and I feel I’m getting somewhere
All is right, all is right.

From high atop the water tower on the very edge of town, a shadow sat, pushing up her glasses as they fell slightly down the bridge of her nose. Just below, an entire city stretched out toward the sea, the lights bleeding into it, which then bled into the horizon, into the very sky itself. Down by the boardwalk, someone was throwing away old bread and cotton candy while the gulls gulped them down with contented caws that got lodged in their noses. The smell of the freshly cut, end-of-summer lawns wafted through the night, perfuming the last night of summer break perfectly.

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Business and Pleasure - Part 15

Summary:  Bucky AU. After a major deal falls through, your father’s business almost falls apart. In a desperate attempt to save his livelihood, he seeks the help of his oldest friend, George Barnes, who happens to be the CEO of one of the most influential businesses in New York. He agrees, but on one condition. You have to marry his son.

Word Count: 1,833

Warnings: Swearing, angst


Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain


By the time you arrived back in New York, you were pretty sure that you had cried out all the tears your body could possibly produce. Your eyes were dry and bloodshot, and you couldn’t stop the constant shivering that had started sometime during the flight back. You spent the entirety of the flight trying not to cry. You hugged your knees to your chest as best as you could in the cramped plane and stared out the window. Thankfully, you had plenty of music on your phone, so you simply plugged in your headphones and tuned out the rest of the world.


Once you landed and collected your baggage, you realized just how late it was. The sun had set during the flight, and it was now well past midnight. You could have easily called a taxi, but you weren’t sure that you could handle being stuck in the back of a taxi for the ride back home. You didn’t want to have to make awkward small talk. All you wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep. 

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Mistakes and forgiveness - older!Damian Wayne x Reader

Remember when I said : “I won’t write about the batfam for a while” ? Yeah, I guess I totally lied. No self control really. Anyway, I adore that prompt. So I tried to write something about it…Not sure it’s what you wanted anon. Hope you’ll still like it though :

Warning : slightly NSFW and language. 

My masterlist blog : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com

________________________________________________

-Hey Damian I…Oh.

As you entered in his bedroom at Wayne Manor, the one he was suppose to leave the coming week to come and live with you, one of your worst nightmare stopped you cold in your tracks.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, facing the door and…

There was an almost naked girl in his lap. 

Her tongue was in his mouth. One of her hand tangled in his hair, just like you did, the other one splayed across his broad bare chest. His own hands were on her ass, leaving marks of his fingers for later. 

You knew she noticed you, but she kept on going, the hand that was on his chest going to the waistband of his boxer…He opened his eyes and locked them on you, while still kissing her…Hell, while still devouring her mouth ! He opened his eyes, locking his gaze on you and…in his beautiful green orbs, you could see nothing but disdain, a bit of disgust, and…cruelty ? And it was directed to you. He pulled away from her for a second, and his words stabbed you in the heart : 

-Can’t you see I’m busy ? 

The girl’s smirk drove the knife further into your bleeding heart…

You tried to hide your pained expression, out of pride, but it was impossible…You’ve seen enough.

You left, slapping the door shut behind you. 

Tears ran freely down your cheeks, and you ignored Damian’s father asking you what was wrong as you ran out of the Manor. 

You quickly got in your car, and your feet didn’t leave the accelerator pedal until you were back in front of your apartment. Without even bothering to take your clothes off, you fell heavily on your bed, empty. Your tears had ran out. 

Nothing. You felt nothing. Utterly empty. You fell asleep, the scene you witnessed in your ex-boyfriend’s room replaying over and over again in your head, and after, in your dreams. No. Not dreams. Nightmares. 

You woke up, sweating, and decided you just couldn’t stay in your apartment. You had to get out. You just had to. 

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My Dad Kidnapped Little Girls

I don’t ever remember my dad being normal. He was always a little strange. The man was secretive and closed off, and all his attempts at acting like a father rose the hairs on the back of my neck. It seemed forced. I don’t think I ever got used to that. There was no need, because he didn’t keep that up for long. By the time I was 5, I didn’t have a dad. What I had after that was a boss. Maybe an owner. Definitely not a dad.

He fully opened up as a person around that time. He brought a little girl into our home. She was small, but she was older than myself, too. Maybe 7 or 8. Her face was red and raw with tears. “Sam, this is your new little sister, Maria.” Before I could react, she spoke up between small sobs. “No, mister. I don’t know you. My name is Claire. Please take me home to my mommy, I promise that I won’t tell.” By the time she finished what she was saying, she was barely forming coherent sentences. That’s when I saw my Dad stop being my dad. With one fluid motion, he swung his arm, hitting her in the face and knocking her back on her ass.

I jumped up, too afraid and confused to do much of anything, but still frightened nonetheless. I was young, but I’d seen enough television to know that normal families didn’t do these things. “Sam, you sit your ass down or I’ll put you in the ground, you hear me?” Thus marked the loss of my father. Later, as I listened to the quiet cries of the girl, now locked in the room next to mine, he sat me down and explained that he wasn’t my father. He told me things a 5 year old should never hear. My life changed forever. I was a mistake.

The little girl was with us for a while. My dad left me at home while he went to the mall, buying all kinds of nice things for Maria. Claire. Whatever. He probably blew $500. The weeks afterward were strange, disgusting, and violent all at the same time. At the best, she would play along with his games and he would be happy. At the worst, I would have to listen to her screams as he did unspeakable things to her in the next room. After, when the screaming would stop, he would come to me and give me the same speech.

“This happens because you aren’t right, you understand? You should have been born a girl. We wouldn’t have to do this. She’s going to die someday because you’re trash.” He would walk to the door and finish with “Remember, Sam. No one out in that world will ever love you. If you try to leave, I’ll find you and I’ll kill you.”

Maria died about three months after my dad took her. This day wasn’t her first attempt at escape, but instead it was her last. Truly, I do not know if my father meant to kill her or not. He became consumed in his rage and I fought back tears as he continued to hit her and hit her, over and over again. Her little light went out as she choked on blood, gurgling sounds coming from her throat. She was buried in our back yard, right next to the playset that my father bought a year before. After that, he became nervous to the point where he packed me up and we started off on the road.

We lived like that for years. Sometimes, we’d live somewhere as long as a year, but that was the extent of it. On a good year, he’d take two or three girls without so much as a second look. People didn’t necessarily suspect him, though. He was a psycho, but the man was smart too. He would falsify documents and references, getting himself jobs as close to children as possible. I remember, one time, he was hired on to be an ice cream truck driver. He snatched up a little girl he called Gloria right in front of her house. He somehow managed to finish his route, too. She only lasted two months.

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2

“Better luck next time.”


Bank Robber AU for @ambiguous-eyepatch for the Valentines @aftgexchange!

I had a lot of fun drawing these and I hope you like it! 😃

I realized too late that this wasn’t exactly what you meant by your prompt, sorry about that, but I hope it’s still okay!

The rest of my mini-fic/headcanons/ramblings about this AU are below the cut:

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I have this really soft fondness for a WWI AU

Conner, Wally, Dick, Roy, and Kaldur are sort of a squad of misfits. Probably why they’re put together, commanders thinking they’d be decent canon fodder. But they get on like a house on fire once they get to know each other.

 Kaldur’ahm is constantly battling the incredible amount of racism as a biracial soldier. His father was African American and his mother was a Pacific Islander. 

The you have Wally, the smart talking red headed Irish American who deals with that prejudice, but damn can he run. He wanted to be a soccer player - got drafted instead. 

Conner is a tank, but he’s got some major authority problems and anger issues. 

There’s Dick, who would be the model soldier - but he faked his age when he signed up for the army. He went in under the name Robin, aged 18 but when the team finds out he’s only 16, they cover for him. They’re pissed, but it’s too late to send him home now. They become a little protective of him.

Then there’s Roy, their sniper. Nothing odd about him, he’s just a jackass. 

They would look out for each other. Like, they insist on Kaldur being their leader despite higher command sputtering and refusing to give him rank. He gets it anyway. Wally and Dick end up falling in love, and they all keep the relationship quiet. 

okay this is going to get long so readmore

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Adrenaline Rush {S.M}

requested// imagine where you and Shawn are good friends and you’re giving him a pep talk and in the heat of the moment he kisses you

author’s note// yanno what’s a good show? law and order svu. yanno what’s a horrible movie? to the bone, highly offensive, absolutely horrible

masterlist 

“Man, it’s a pretty huge crowd out there.” Shawn was basically shaking. You had never ever seen him this nervous for a show. It was almost unheard of for him to be this nervous. He was so at home on stage, he seemed more nervous just walking down the street to get lunch than getting on stage in front of all of those people. 

“It isn’t that bad, Shawn.” You smirked at him, pulling your self up to sit on the counter were he was supposed to get ready, but he wasn’t using it. He was sitting on the grey sofa near the left of the dressing room he was provided tuning the first guitar he used on stage. 

“I never said it was bad.” He looked up at you for a second, a grin teasing the corners of his lips. “It’s just a big crowd.” He was messing around with the A string, seemingly not being able to quite get it right. It was probably his fumbling fingers. But if you had to hear a flat A one more time you were going to rip your ears off. 

“Do you want some help?” You winced as he plucked the string one more time, sounding flatter than it did the last time. He shook his head rather vigorously, which she expected. He was rather particular about how his acoustic was tuned whenever he would go on stage. He wanted to make sure everything was absolutely perfect every time he stepped foot onto that stage. You knew it was probably rather stupid to ask. He’d never let you touch that guitar before a show. 

“I’ll be fine.” He was probably nervous because this was his final concert, in his hometown nonetheless, all of his friends were out in that audience. People from his high school, family members, so many people he knew were out in that crowd, and even though it was just as big as all of the other concerts he had played throughout the tour, maybe even smaller than some. 

“You look like you’re about to have a panic attack.” You scoffed, pulling your legs underneath you. He just smiled and shook his head a little bit, focusing way too much on that guitar. You thanked your lucky stars he wasn’t as insane about his electric guitar. 

“Why are you in here with me and not out there.” He nodded his head towards the door, referencing the audience. You shuddered just thinking about sitting out there with a shitton of kids you went to high school with and hated. They all did sports and were rather popular back in the day, and not that they were mean to you, but Shawn’s old group of friends from high school were not your favorite people. You had always been close friends with him since freshman year when you were both placed in an intro to art class and you were sat with one another because they both couldn’t draw to save their lives. He was close with all of those other people back before he was famous, but he started to notice a lot of them only made an effort to stay close with his busy schedule only due to his intense rising fame. He didn’t mind all that much, but he didn’t make quite as much an effort. As for you and Shawn, you had stayed close from the moment you had met up until now. It was almost funny when the others out there would post photos calling Shawn their best friend, when in reality you were. She was just that random girl who played violin in advanced orchestra who they had no idea why Shawn hung out with her. 

Still hung out with her. And let her come with him on his summer north american tour and even come with him on some of his European dates. 

It still warmed your heart that those girls in that group that he had hung out with, those girls on the dance team and volleyball team, the girls he had over the years kissed and fooled around with, those girls who were everything that you thought that you weren’t were second to you. 

“Those are your friends, not mine.” You shot back, expecting to get the usual, ‘I know you aren’t their biggest fans, but you only have to be nice. They aren’t that bad.’ That was the spiel you usually got whenever you complained about having to associate with his friends. But this time, he just shrugged, probably too preoccupied before this show that he, for some reason, was totally freaked out about. 

“You are not wrong.” He strummed the last chord that you couldn’t remember the name of and he looked almost satisfied. But he was never completely satisfied with his guitar, but you had gotten used to it. He looked up at you, actually looking at you for the first time other than some upward glances as he was tuning. A small smile slowly stretching across his lips, and you started to feel almost self conscious. You were only wearing jean shorts and the long sleeve concert t-shirt since you had to help out with the VIP stuff since you were there that early. You had kicked off your black high top converse earlier, so you were only in some ankle socks, and you felt so incredibly exposed, which was dumb, Shawn was your best friend, you shouldn’t feel this way. 

Even if you had been harboring some incredibly low-key feelings for him since the eleventh grade. But you never acted on them since he never hinted. So everything stayed just about the same. 

“I’m lucky to have you.” He smiled, only taking a few more moments to take all of you in before you were interrupted by a knock, most likely his manager, which he knew was code for ‘time to get the hell out here stop tuning that damned guitar.’ You were glad you didn’t have to say anything sappy back, you were incredibly horrible at those kind of things, but Shawn knew you loved and appreciated him. “It appears it is time to go.” He grabbed his guitar and held his hand out for you to take. You looked at him puzzled but he only smiled. 

“Tonight I’m gonna need you out there cheering me on from offstage. I’m about to puke.” He chuckled, and you wearily took his hand, hating going out there with all of the adults and Geoff. You really didn’t like Geoff all that much either. He honestly just really irritated you. Then again, everyone did. Shawn led you over to the door of his dressing room and the minute he opened it, you pulled your hand away, your arm dropping to your side. You both quickly made your way to the front by the stage where he got the spiel, got the speech on how he was gonna do amazing, and how there were tons of girls out there to see him. They did the chant, and he was just about ready to get out on that stage. “Hey!” Shawn called out, waving you over close to him. You had been out here a couple of times before he went on stage, but he had never done this. You furrowed your eyebrows, incredibly confused to say the least. 

“What do you need?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest. “Don’t you have a crowd to preform for?” You teased, nudging him just a bit with your right elbow. He gave you a small smile, his cheeks turning a bright shade of red. They did that sometimes. 

“Okay, remember when I would preform at school talent shows and small concerts and stuff and I would get super nervous?” He started, starting to fiddle with the strap of his guitar. You nodded quickly, hoping he’d get on with it, knowing it’d be you that was being yelled at for holding him up. “Well, I’m gonna need one of those pep talks you used to give me.” He spit out, almost nervous that you would say no. But without even a yes, you got into the stance, straightening your spine, placing your hands on his shoulders, locking your knees into place. You hadn’t done this in what felt like forever. 

“Okay Mendes, listen up, you are amazing you are talented, you are going to kill it. There are a shitton of people out there who payed a crapload of money to see you, and you are going to put on one damn good show. Who cares about those kids from school who may or may not judge you, you are the pop star, they aren’t. You are attractive you are talented, and you are going to kill it. Okay?” You shook him a little at the end and he quickly nodded. 

“Okay.” He agreed. But what he did next was what shocked you, what caused your heart to literally drop nineteen stories down into your stomach. He pressed his lips onto yours, but only for a couple of seconds. It sure did feel like half of a century, maybe even a full one. All the loud and all the screams from the audience weren’t even audible. His lips on yours and everything didn’t matter. Until he pulled away and he was starting to get dragged back onstage. “We can talk um… After?” He stuttered as he was walking onstage. All you could do was nod. 

You were physically in shock, your whole body tingling as you simply stood offstage, not really in anyone’s way. Everyone was bustling around, but all you could think about was how your best friend just kissed you, and it sure as hell meant something. 

“What the hell was that?” Geoff asked, and you looked to see him crinkling his nose almost in disgust. He wasn’t exactly your biggest fan. 

“No idea.” The concert literally flew by, you heard Geoff say a couple of more things to you, but your head didn’t quite register them. You heard the setlist played out, you even saw Shawn run backstage to get to the smaller stage. You were just, shocked. The only word you could think of was shocked. 

But, like clock work every night, Shawn walked offstage after treat you better and wrapped you in a hug, pulling you close to his body, you could feel all of his sweat and heat radiating off of his body. 

“Okay, I can’t talk right now, I have to go see my friends, and so do you so you also can’t talk right now.” You grumbled as you wrapped your arms around him, not caring at all he was a gross sweaty mess. “But, I will tell you, I have some hardcore feelings for you. Which we will discuss later.” He shrugged at the last part, and you pulled away for a moment, his arms still supporting your waist. 

“Well, that works out well, because I have some hardcore feelings for you too.” A warm smile spread across his lips, and he pressed yet another kiss to yours. And it was even better the second time. 

author’s note// I LOVE this it’s poor writing but the plot is so sweet and tbh relatable anyways hi school started this week i hope i die soon

Fantasy Daddy Simulator -- Final Fantasy XV x Dream Daddy Headcanons (Part 1)

Okay, I’m far too impatient to wait until this is all finished. SO HERE! Have the first part to the FFXV x Dream Daddy headcanons. c: It’s fun to write, that’s for sure, and it’s cool to think about the fun scenario of all these single dads. I hope you guys enjoy the day I go on our Fantasy Daddies though!
(So weird to say that, not gonna lie…)


PREGAME NOTES

  • Let’s add about 15-20 years on these boys. Give them time for the children to grow older.
  • Let’s also say they live in that cul-de-sac area just like from Dream Daddy.
  • And the children are just me throwing dumb thoughts your way. Because yay for thinking up of headcanons (and child characters unmentioned!).

FANTASY DADDY SIMULATOR – FFXV x Dream Daddy (Part 1)

Featuring: Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum, Ignis Scientia, and Gladiolus Amicitia


Noctis Lucis Caelum – Divorced, Father of Three Boys

Likes: Fishing, Sleeping In, Telling Stories About The Good Ol’Days
Dislikes: Veggies, Cooking Heathy Things For His Kids, Not Being Able to Fish or Sleep

  • He was married to Lunafreya Nox Fleuret as part of an arranged marriage ordeal. But as time passed, they came to realize that they never really got the live they life they wanted to when they were immediately married at twenty-years old.
  • So they mutually divorced, yet they still remain very big and important figures in their kids lives, despite having a shared custody over them.
  • Noctis takes the kids for a month and then they alternate back and forth. But luckily for Noctis, Lunafreya just lives up the road, so they boys can really just pick where they want to go.
  • The boys ultimately decide that they’d rather live with their dad more than their mom. No offense to Lunafreya, really! They’re just, you know, more okay with Noctis being a chill dad than with Lunafreya being a proper lady mom.
  • Noctis is the kind of dad who will pretend to be asleep until noon on his days off, refusing to get up even when his little boys would jump on him and demand his attention.
  • Or demand food. Can’t they just make ramen like how Uncle Gladio taught them? Damn… Now he’d have to break out that emergency cookbook Ignis made him.

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