y'know how hard it was to make that

Pack Mother - Derek Hale - Part 4

Characters: Derek Hale, Werewolf!Stiles, Isaac Lahey, PackMom!Reader.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Derek and Isaac had moved in and you were up to your eyeballs in testosterone. Isaac was sleeping on the couch, Derek in the guest room. You miss your privacy.

You came home late one evening, you had errands to run. You went upstairs, wanting to crash in bed. You opened your door to find Derek in your bed.

“Oh, really?” You crossed your arms and looked at him.

“Isaac’s in my room. I had nowhere to go.”

“Why is Isaac in your room?” You raise an eyebrow.

“He brought some girl home, I don’t know.”

“Derek! Oh my God!” You slipped out the door and swung Derek’s door open. You walked in and leaned on the wall. Isaac looked up at you and groaned.

The girl looked at you blankly. “Can I help you?” She smarted off.

“You can actually. Get out.” You point to the door.

She nudges Isaac. “You’re going to let her talk to me like that?” He shrugs and she pouts.

“I said out. Now.” You slammed the door closed when she left and you looked at Isaac.

“What the hell?” He got off the bed and put his shirt back on.

“Don’t what the hell me, Lahey. Bringing a girl home? To my house?”

“We didn’t even do anything! We were just making out!”

“I don’t care. You still brought her here.”

Derek opened the door and stood behind you.

“This isn’t fair! Scott didn’t care about this stuff!”

You scoff, “Was Scott becoming your legal guardian? No? Then I don’t want to hear it. My house, my rules.”

Isaac huffs and pushes past you, storming down the stairs.

Derek high fives you. “That was good pack-parenting.”

You laugh. “I cannot believe you let him in here with a girl.”

“Sorry. That was bad pack-parenting. He’s done it before so I didn’t really think much of it.”

“He’s done it before? In your room? Derek…he needs his own room.” You sigh.

“I can sleep on the couch.” He shrugs.

“No, stay with me. It’ll be 100% nonsexual. You can handle that right?”

Derek smirks. “Of course I can.”

That day he moved all of his stuff in, you were now sharing a closet with a man who you’d just met. You’d kissed for maybe fifteen seconds, but you just met. “What side of the bed do you sleep on?” He turned and looked at you.

“In the middle…so pick whichever side you want.” You say, moving your clothes over in the closet.

Stiles has been in and out of the house all day. He’s decided that you and Derek are the only ones that can calm him down.

“Why is Jackson such a huge idiot?” He stormed in and sat on your bed.

“All right then..” You muttered before sitting beside him. “What’d he do now?”

“He said that I’ll never be as good of a werewolf as him, so when I got angry he laughed at me. He’s showing off for Lydia.” He grunts.

You roll your eyes. “I just talked to him about this..Stiles don’t let it get to you. If I’m being honest I think that he’s a little worried about you and Lydia. You’re stepping in on his lady, Stiles.” You nudge him and he laughs.

“I don’t mean to…I just can’t help it. She’s just..” He lays back on the bed and groans. “She’s so pretty and she’s got the greatest personality. I just don’t know how she can stand to be with him. He’s a dumb jock, that’s all he is. She’s too smart to be with him. I get her, I get her sense of humor and I get her smart little fun facts. I just really like her, y'know? I do everything I can not to screw up around her and Jackson always makes me look stupid.” He sighs.

Derek joins the two of you on the bed. “I know what you mean. Pretty girls are hard to get over.” He flicked his eyes over to you and smirked.

“Let me give you some advice. If you’re having trouble with Lydia just try being her friend. Don’t try to impress her, or show off, just be her friend. Go out on friend dates with her and Jackson, no matter how much it hurts because that’s going to show that you aren’t around just to get in her pants. It’ll show her you’re trustworthy.” Derek smiles at him.

“I never really have tried being her friend…” Stiles says quietly. He jumped off the bed quickly.

“So, quick question…”

“What?” You look up at him.

“When’s the next full moon?”

“Monday, why? Do you need us?”

Stiles nods, “Okay, thanks guys. I have to go be Lydia’s friend now.” He jogs out of the room and you look at Derek.

“Such a spaz.” He says under his breath and you smack his arm.

“Leave him alone.” You defend the younger boy.

“Fine. Sorry.” Derek throws his hands up on defense, a smile playing on his lips. “Let’s go out tonight.” He looks at you.

“I uh..where?” You stand up, pulling the hoodie you were wearing down.

“Let’s go to a club. You know, where we can drink and not have to worry about teenaged werewolves.” He laughs.

You snort, “That’d be great.”

“It’s a plan?” He asks you.

“It’s a plan.” You repeat, high fiving the much taller werewolf in front of you. You glance at the clock. “That means I should start getting ready. Can you call Isaac and talk to him? He probably won’t answer if I call. Just tell him what’s going on and that he gets his own room now.” You grab your makeup bag as Derek nods. You go to the bathroom, turning music on loudly. You go back to your room to pick a dress out before retreating back to the bathroom.

You finish getting ready and you head downstairs. You find Derek in a tight white button down shirt and dress pants. You feel your breath hitch when you see him. He smirks at you. “I talked to Isaac…are you ready?”

You nod, the both of you going out to his car. You arrive at the club, the line surprisingly short.

“You look drop dead gorgeous. I just thought I’d let you know.” He smirks down at you and you blush.

“You don’t look too bad either.”

You’re standing in line talking when you’re approached by a young girl. “Derek? You’re Derek Hale right?”

Derek turns and looks at her, nodding. “Can I help you?”

“You’re an alpha, right? You know what to do.”

“I’m not exactly sure what you’re asking me.”

“I-I’m pregnant. I think my water just broke. I need help.”

Your eyes go wide and Derek turns to look at you.

“I’m not Derek Hale but I can help you.” You say, stepping out of line. You take the young girls arm.

“I can’t go to the hospital. My mom doesn’t know I’m pregnant. I can’t go.”

Derek takes her other arm. “Let’s get her in the car.”

You help her into the backseat and sit with her. “Derek, take her back to the house.” You arrive at the house and you help her inside, setting her up in Isaac’s room. You take all the sheets off the bed and put a towel down over the mattress protector. You cover her up and sit beside her. Derek stands in the doorway, watching.

“How old are you, sweetie?” You press a cool rag to her head.

She groans, you can see her contracting. You take her hand and let her squeeze. She’s not talking through the contraction so you figure she must be close.

You stand at the edge of the bed. “Is it okay if I look?” She nods.

“I’m fourteen, by the way. I’m pretty sure the baby’s a werewolf too.”

You nod and look under her dress. “Derek, she’s crowning already.” Can you come in here and take her hand.

He nods and comes in, making conversation with the girl.

“Honey, what’s your name?”

“My name’s Brittany.”

“Okay, Brittany..I’m going to need you to push. Can you do that? I’m going to count down from ten and I need you to push while I count.”

She nods and squeezes Derek’s hand.

“1..2..3..push.” She begins pushing and you count down. This goes on for about twenty minutes. “Derek can you get me the blanket on the couch?” He nods and jogs downstairs.

“One more push, Brittany.” She pushes and you hold the baby as it comes out. “It’s a boy.” You smile.

Derek returns and you wrap the baby up. “I need scissors.” He grabs them from the bedside table and you cut the cord, careful not to cut too close.

You hand the boy to Brittany. She cries as she takes him. “Thank you so much. Thank you.”

“Can I get you anything?” You smile at her and she shakes her head.

“I’m okay. Thank you.”

“We’ll leave you be. We’re going to be downstairs if you need us.” She nods and you and Derek leave the rooms.

“So much for going out.” You look at him and he smirks.

“I still got to see you in this hot dress. I found it painstakingly sexy watching you deliver a baby in heels. You’re so badass.” He gives you a once over.

You push him playfully. “Shut up. I’m just doing what I have to.”

Isaac walks in the door and starts to go upstairs. “Ah..wait.” You holler.

“What?” He turns and looks at you.

“You don’t want to go in there. I’m not giving details just don’t go in there. You can sleep down here tonight.”

He groans and flops down on the couch. “Okay..”

You go to the kitchen and sit a bottle of wine on the counter, Derek smirking. “Yeah?” He asks.

“Oh yeah.” You nod and pour you both a glass. You hop up on the counter. “I just delivered a baby. I don’t how these things just casually happen to me.”

Derek laughs. “You get used to it. I was hoping we’d hang out more tonight but…”

“We’re hanging out now aren’t we?” You and give him a sly look.

You spend the rest of the night talking and laughing. You got to know each other better. You’d checked in on Brittany before going to bed but she was asleep.

You’re awoken at 6 a.m by screeching. You groan and get up. Is there a baby in the house? There’s a baby in the house. You walk across the hall to Isaac’s room to check on Brittany and the baby. When you open the door you only see the baby. You pick him up and cradle him. You yawn as he begins to calm down. You carry him to the bathroom to see if Brittany’s there. Nope. You go down to the kitchen to find a note. You read it and you panic. “Derek! Derek, come here!” You heard him get out of bed and come downstairs quickly. You must’ve woken Isaac too because he came shuffling into the kitchen.

Derek comes in looking like an adorable mess. He has no shirt on, just pajama pants and his hair’s sticking up everywhere. “What’s going on?”

You hand him the note. “Brittany left. She left the baby here. She said she doesn’t care what we do with him.” Derek’s eyes meet yours and you can smell the anxiety on him, the baby beginning to scream.

“I for one hate the kid already.”

“Isaac, shut up.” You and Derek say in unison. No one speaks for awhile. You and Derek just stare at each other, having a silent conversation.

ok hear me out: you and peter get into a fight about something dumb, so he holds one of his hands up to his face like a phone and pretends its ringing. he even does the sound effects and all. you roll your eyes and you pick up the “phone” with a completely monotone voice like "hello” and he says "oh hey it’s me, peter, just wanted to ask how you’re doing, y'know. also you’re super cute and i love you a lot…“ and then he would mutter "please don’t be mad at me [y/n], please. i love you.” and you’d hang up the phone and try not to laugh, but he’s so adorable you can’t stay mad at him no matter how hard you try.
and if you were actually mad you’d hang up on him and he’d “call” you back and leave a message. like “hi, it’s peter again, just wondering if you can call me back some time soon. just wanted to chat. love you!” or if you weren’t really mad anymore you would make a fake voicemail with “hi this is [y/n] i can’t come to the phone right now but i’ll get back to you as soon as i can! unless its peter, then you can think about what you’ve done.” and it would end with a giggle from you, where peter’d wrap you up in a hug and mumble into your ear “thanks for forgiving me.”


So, about that break, heh…

Well, after receiving some amazing fanart and lovely words from all you wonderful people, it honestly made me feel great, which…I haven’t really felt in a while, I won’t go into any detail but like…holy hell, folk actually really liked my content, what. 

And so…writing is going to be my way of thanking you all.

Once again, this story is based on the 2D Bendy AU created by the wonderful @shinyzango. I can’t recommend checking out her artwork highly enough, it’s pretty damn amazing. c:


Keep reading

i literally can’t think of a more powerful artistic statement than ending a show with a song about how hard it is to handle the pressure of performing, saying “i hope you’re happy” and walking off stage

RFA++’s families don’t like MC

Part 2 - MC winning the families over.


  • He brought MC over to meet his parents and little sister
  • They had dinner, laughed, and MC revealed that she and Yoosung played LOLOL together
  • All in all, it looks like things went well and his parents like her
  • However, the next day, Yoosung’s mother calls him and says she doesn’t approve of MC
  • Yoosung. Is. Shocked.
  • HOW?!
  • His mother explains that both she and his father are worried that she’s encouraging his LOLOL habits, not to mention she seems super… naive
  • She also admitted to having poor grades when she got her two year degree, and as academics, they don’t approve
  • Yoosung is pissed
  • He was the one that got her into LOLOL
  • If anything, she’s helped him turn it into a hobby, not an obsession
  • She takes care of him sometimes
  • AND she encourages him to study whenever she can!
  • MC is his world.
  • How can they think she’s a bad influence?! How can they disapprove?!
  • Yoosung makes it clear that he loves her and they’re going to have to get used to her being around


  • Her Uncle, Aunt, and cousins don’t much care for her anyways
  • But when they find out she’s dating a woman, they really don’t approve
  • They encourage her to go to a matchmaker and find a “real partner” for a “real marriage”
  • Jaehee is hurt they think this, but makes it clear that, if they don’t want to be part of her life with MC, they don’t have to be
  • If they don’t approve, they can deal with it :)


  • His family doesn’t really approve of him or his career anyways, so it’s not far fetched that they’d disapprove of his girlfriend
  • More so, even, after learning that they live together even though they’re not married
  • His parents are very in his face after meeting her about how they don’t like her
  • They think she only likes him for his pretty face
  • Zen doesn’t really care what they think, because he loves MC and wants to be with her
  • He does tell them that, without MC, he would never have gotten back in contact with them
  • He also warns that, if they want to continue to see him, they need to at least pretend to be nice to her
  • They agree to that, at least


  • Considering the Chairman’s recent experience with women (i.e., he was manipulated by two gold diggers), he definitely doesn’t trust MC, let alone approve
  • He’s supportive of his son finally finding a woman, and is very clear about this
  • But the moment Jumin leaves MC and the Chairman alone, he turns to her, all serious
  • He asks her questions about her social status, her life before meeting Jumin, etc, and why she’s marrying Jumin
  • MC answers all these questions, a little confused why she’s being asked, and when he comes to the final question, she answers, “Because I love him? Why else would I be marrying him?”
  • Mr. Chairman now approves of her less, not because she loves his son, but because she’s of low birth and breeding
  • Her higher education is focused on business, but she went to a subpar school
  • And he tells her that he doesn’t approve of his son marrying her, but considering his own choices, he has no right to talk. He does, however, warn her that if she breaks Jumin’s heart, Mr. Chairman will ruin her.
  • That evening, MC proposes to Jumin they sign a prenup so people don’t think she’s after money
  • Jumin doesn’t understand why, but if it’s what MC wants, he’ll go with it


  • Saeran doesn’t really like Saeyoung
  • And since he’s the only family Saeyoung has, he also doesn’t like MC
  • But it’s not really anything too personal, it’s just that she’s very similar to his brother
  • Wild, crazy, loud, very jokey, etc.
  • Saeran just doesn’t really like people like that


  • “…Jihyun, I though you were going to marry Rika.”
  • Both MC and V flinched
  • V never told them about what happened to Rika
  • Any of it
  • From Rika hurting him to her starting a cult
  • V ends up quietly explaining that, yes he was, but somethings happened, they were very hard on him, and they broke up
  • He also doesn’t tell them that he was blind/mostly blind for almost three years
  • His parents say, “We liked Rika. She was sweet. A good match for you. What makes you think this girl is better for you?”
  • “Y'know I’m right here, right?” MC asks, still holding V’s hand
  • “Of course dear, you’re right. Please pardon my rudeness. I’m just confused.”
  • MC doesn’t buy it but she leaves it
  • His parents ask her a ton of questions (e.g. What do you do? How long have you known each other? How do you feel about art? What do you think Jihyun? Etc.)
  • MC thinks she gives satisfying answers, but can tell they just don’t like her
  • Eventually, they come to a conclusion and just state that, “Of course we love you, Jihyun, and we don’t mind who you date, but we really wish you get back together with Rika. She is so much better suited for you than this little girl.”


  • …. his only family is Saeyoung
  • The only reason Saeyoung wouldn’t approve would be if he suspected that MC didn’t love Saeran/was using him/was part of Mint Eye
  • Basically, if he thought she was a bad influence or an enabler
  • And it turns out, MC is a former member of Mint Eye, just like Saeran
  • If it wasn’t for the fact that, every time Saeyoung expressed concern over MC Saeran would snap at him and refute it, Saeyoung would have forced her to leave his brother a long time ago
  • Doesn’t mean he approves

Imagine your first fight with Chris.

A/N: Part 3 😭 Did I cry? Oh, I definitely would’ve if I wrote this in the privacy of my own home. But seeing as I was in public, I had to take a few deep breaths and get through it without crying. You can read the previous parts here: (Mini-series - Masterlist; Mini-series Spin-off: ‘Unexpected Reader - Masterlist’, ‘Little Ways Away - Part 1/Part 2)

Friday came and that meant it’d been five days since Chris last spoke with you, and five days since you started ignoring his calls. Both of you were going insane not being able to speak to the other, but that was where you were at and needed to be. So Chris took Sebastian’s advice into consideration and stopped pushing, he ate up whatever lie you gave him and hoped you’d call soon because he was seriously missing your voice. You wanted to call, God, you wanted to call. You wanted to hear his voice; you wanted to see his face on your computer screen; you wanted to tell him about how Jack dropped a fork down a customer’s dress and hear him bellow with laughter, but you couldn’t.

Things with you hadn’t improved; you were still stressed and on the verge of having a mental breakdown that you didn’t want to bother your very busy boyfriend with. As frustrating as you knew you were being, you still believed Chris was better off not knowing. You believed that because you hadn’t talked to him, you couldn’t hear how worried he was about you; how stressed he was because he couldn’t talk to you; how much he needed you while he was pulling sixteen hour days miles from the girl he loved. He, too, was on the verge of having a mental breakdown but was too afraid that you’d do what Sebastian said if he pushed too hard. So he left you alone, gave you the space you apparently needed, and suffered in silence.

The two of you really were too similar, incredibly good at repeating history, and becoming increasingly insufferable to those around you. If you’d just let your incredibly wise best friend give you some brutally honest advice, you wouldn’t be in this situation and the last five days wouldn’t have been your hell on earth.

“Hey, babe,” Ava called from the kitchen as came through the front door; Dodger barked.

“Hey, sorry.” You gave them both a quick wave as you rushed down the hallway to your room; you were running late for work due to an impromptu meeting with Professor Killian, who was concerned about your recent decline in mood. They followed you; Ava with her bowl of Lucky Charms, and stood in your doorway, watching you bounce around your room gathering your work clothes. “I’m running so late, Jack’s texted me twice already and-” you stopped and looked around, frowning, “where the hell is my apron?”

“I think it’s in the wash, but you can use mine.” She told you and walked over to her room to grab it while you got changed. “What were you doing at school anyway?” She asked as she walked back towards your room; she stood in the hallway and waited for you, whereas Dodger left for the living room. “You don’t have classes on Friday, did they change your timetable?”

“No, thank God,” you took the apron Ava was holding out and shoved it into your handbag. “I got an email from Professor Killian because he’s concerned about me. Apparently I’ve been very distracted and unproductive in his class.” You rolled your eyes and Ava pursed her lips in response because she knew your professor was right. “What a ridiculous accusation, I turned in two drafts yesterday.” You headed for the bathroom to quickly fix your hair before you left for your fine-dine restaurant job; Ava followed, quietly eating her cereal. “Have I been distracted and unproductive?”

“I don’t think you want me to answer that,” Ava said with a wince.

“Seriously?” You narrowed your eyes at her. “How have I been distracted and unproductive?”

“Babe-” Ava sighed and followed you as you headed for the front door. “Since you decided to stop talking to Chris, you haven’t been particularly focused on anything.” You stopped and turned to her with raised eyebrows. “You go through your days upset and distracted, and yes- you still do your writing and you go to work, but you’re lacking your usual perky personality and it is very noticeable. I mean- If Killian noticed, you know you’re on rough terrain.”

“God, I know,” you sighed. “I know you’re right. I just- I’m trying,” you told her and she nodded, knowing very well you were. “And I want to talk to him, I just feel like if I do- I’m going to freak him out and make him worry and- I don’t want to do that while he’s busy with work.”

“You know he’s never going to be too busy for you, right?”

“I know,” you managed a smile. “But I still don’t want to add more to his already very full plate. I know I’m being very frustrating and ignoring him is not one of my best ideas, but it’s all I have right now.” Ava reached for your elbow and gave your arm a light squeeze because she was starting to understand why you were doing what you were doing. “I’ll talk to him soon, I just need to figure out how to explain everything to him so he doesn’t worry about me after I hang up. Am I making sense?” You chuckled wearily with limited humor. “I feel like I’m just blathering.”

“Perfect sense,” she assured you, smiling. “You care about him, that’s why you’re doing all this. Props, sweetheart. Really, I’m very proud of you and the way you’re coping with everything.” She gave you a quick one arm hug and you smiled, hugging her back. “You’re going to be fine, like I told Chris- you’re a tough nut to crack. But y'know, in a positive light- not the mysterious, hard-to-deal-with meaning. Though you are a puzzle sometimes, a very complicated puzzle.”

“Yeah, I’m a fucking macadamia nut,” you joked and both laughed. “I really gotta run,” you told her and she nodded, making her way to the couch to join Dodger as your phone started ringing. The ringtone was your average, day-to-day, every-man ringtone so you picked up without looking at it; you’d no idea Chris had borrowed a phone so he could trick you into picking up his call. He didn’t want to push, but he had a terrible day and he needed to talk to you. “Hello?”

“Here I was thinking you’d let this call go to voicemail too,” Chris’ voice came through and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. “Um-” He chuckled with limited humor. You were too stunned to process the emotions wrapped in his tone; you couldn’t even tell that he’d been crying. “Hey, um- God, it’s so good to finally hear your voice. How are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m good,” you found yourself lying again. “I’m actually on my way to work, so can I call y-”

“Of course you are,” Chris muttered bitterly; his hand tugging at his hair as he tried not to swear.

“Of course I am?” You felt your eyes narrow even though you knew you deserved whatever Chris was throwing your way. “What is that suppose to mean?” You bit as Ava turned; she saw the expression on your face which meant the call you’d been avoiding had arrived. She found herself lowering her bowl and planting both feet on the ground, preparing to intervene if she needed to- if the fight became bigger than it should. Dodger was on alert too, like he could sense the storm brewing between you and his best friend.

“What is that suppose to mean?” Chris bit back with a scoff. “Are you kidding me right now, Y/N? You haven’t spoken to me in five days! Did we get into a fight, did we break up? I don’t know because we haven’t talked!” You tried to interject, but he didn’t let you. “You’ve avoided all my calls and attempts at FaceTiming you, you reply to all my texts in less than five words- like what is your problem? Did I do something to piss you off, because if I did- please, let me know.”

“Chris-” you began then sighed, “I’m sorry, but this sounds like a fight I can’t get into right now.” You heard him scoff on the other end and you wanted to kick yourself. “It’s not you, okay? I’m just-” you glanced at the clock hanging on your wall, “I need to go. I’ll call you after work and we’ll talk about this then.”

“No,” he practically growled. “We’re going to talk about this now, Y/N. I’ve given you enough time to sort out whatever the hell is going on with you, I want to resolve this now. I don’t care if you’re late for work, this is a lot more important than a shift where they can easily get someone to cover for you. What is going on? Did I do something to upset you?”

“No! God, Chris- not everything is about you.” Your heart ached at the sound of his voice, it ached for him. “I already told you, this isn’t about you.” You said, as you realized how much it was; you missed him dearly and it was affecting your entire being- mind, body, and soul. Up until you heard his voice, you didn’t realize how much your life was in shambles. Sure, school was great and work was good, but- you were alone and apart from your soulmate that you took nineteen years to find. You were not okay, you needed the next seven months to be over. “I’ve just been busy, okay? And I’m busy now, so I really need to end this phone call and call you back later.”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me,” he warned; his voice broke but you were too distraught to notice. “Y/N, we need to communicate. We may be perfect for each other, but God- we are terrible at being in a relationship.” Your eyes narrowed at that. “Couples are meant to be honest with each other. We’re meant to tell each other everything, yet here we are arguing about something that could’ve easily been avoided if we just talked.”

“I don’t even know what we’re arguing about!” You cried with a deep frown; Ava noticed your hand clench into a tight fist and she knew you were about to lost it. “You started this argument, Chris,” you accused and he scoffed. “I was just trying to get to work.” There was a long pause where neither of you said anything, then you did, “I know we need to talk, but I don’t have time to talk to you right now.”

Remember love and how it was a strange concept? How it could either be the simplest of things, or the most complicated? How a wrong move, a poorly chosen word, bad timing- how all of these factors were capable of tearing a soul into pieces? Well, the two of you were about to experience that ache and anguish.

“Make time,” he bit, trying to hold back his tears. “Have Ava cover your shift so we can talk, Y/N. I’m not asking for a lot here, I’m asking to talk to my girlfriend.” You turned your back towards Ava so she didn’t see you starting to cry, but she knew. “All I want is a second of your time, Y/N, a second of your time to just talk. Can you give me that? Can you give me that and ask me about my day? You’re not the only one who is having a hard time with all of this. I miss you too, and I need you too.”

“This is not how I imagined this conversation would go,” you mumbled under your breath instead of keeping it in your head. That was your mistake; the straw that broke the camel’s back; the prompt that brought forth words Chris didn’t mean and regretted immediately.

“Of course not,” Chris bit. “'Cause everything is just fucking perfect in your stories, isn’t it?” You felt your heart break at the harshness of his tone as well as the bitterness of his words. “Newsflash, Y/N, this is real life and I am not perfect. I am nowhere near fucking perfect,” he spat and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from having a full on breakdown.

“What is your problem, Chris?”

Chris could hear your voice shake and he knew you were crying. He knew he was hurting you and it broke his heart to think that you were crying because of him, but he couldn’t stop the foul words from spilling out of his mouth. “I can’t be the perfect guy you want me to be,” he told you and a whimper escaped your lips. “Your expectations are too high and I don’t know how to live up to them. I thought I did, but-” he swallowed, “I don’t.”

“What are you trying to say?” You breathed and Ava jumped up; she knew exactly what was happening. You waited for him to say something, but he didn’t, so you did. “You know I never asked you to be anyone you weren’t, I never expected anything from you.” Ava tried to take the phone out of your hand, but you moved out of her reach. “But clearly, I was wrong. Clearly…” You trailed off because you couldn’t breathe. “I overreached and this was a huge mistake.”

“Y/N, no! Hang up, hang up now!” Ava hissed at you, but you ignored her with a shake of your head and tears streaming down your face. Both of you were tired and stressed out, neither of you knew what you were doing- you were just doing it. “Give me the phone,” Ava urged, reaching for your phone only to have you dodge her attempts, “give me the phone now!”

“If you don’t want to be with me anymore,” you continued before Chris could process what was happening. “If this is too difficult for you, Chris…” You took a shaky breath, doing everything you could to hold yourself together. “Then let’s just quit while we’re ahead, okay?” You didn’t wait for him to confirm, you just muttered a “okay.”

He finally processed what you were saying and frowned because that wasn’t at all what he wanted, or where he’d imagined your first fight would end. “No no no,” he quickly said before you hung up on him. “No, that’s not what I want. Y/N, I made a promise-”

“It’s fine,” you whispered. “I didn’t expect you to keep your promise anyway, you’re Chris Evans after all and I’m just…me.” You couldn’t hold it together anymore and you knew it was time to hang up. “Consider that letter void,” you managed with your quivering voice. “Like you said, Chris, this is not a story- it’s real life.” You hung up before he could say anything else, slamming your phone on the dining table as your hand flew to your stomach where you felt like you’d just been stab. “Oh my God,” you covered your mouth with your other hand. “What did I just do?”

“Hey,” Ava was quick to go to your aid, placing a comforting hand on your back that you shook off because you knew you’d lose it if you accepted that comfort. “Y/N, you can’t possibly go to work.” She tried to stop you as you grabbed your bag and made your way to the front door. “No!” She ran in front of you and blocked the door, pushing you back with one hand. “You are not going anywhere, you need to process this.”

“I need to go to work,” you told her in the firmest tone you could muster. You heard Dodger bark, but you couldn’t even look his way because he reminded you too much of the guy you’d so carelessly broke up with. “I’m fine, really,” you tried and failed to assure her. “Now please move out of my way because I am really, really late. Please,” you demanded and she reluctantly did as she was told.

The second you stepped out of the house and the door closed behind you, you broke down. You staggered down the first flight of stairs, hiding on the second so Ava couldn’t see you if she came out. You buried your face in your hands and sobbed, wishing you could take back the past five days so you could do it right this time. You had the perfect guy- the man of your dreams, and what did you do? You tossed him aside like he was nothing when he was actually your north, south, east, and west. You wished Chris was wrong, you wished real life was like your stories so you could be less of a fucking idiot and not ruin everything good in your life.

Tags: @chrisevans-imagines @widowsfics @m-a-t-91 @xoxomioxoxo @imaginesofdreams @ateliefloresdaprimavera @katiew1973 @winter-tospring @shamvictoria11 @caitsymichelle13 @michellekeehlmello @letterstomyself21 @soymikael @faye22 @always-an-evans-addict @sammyrenae68 @brobrobreja @elizabeth-matsuoka @thegirlwiththeimpala @camerica96 @all-of-the-above11 @whenyourealizethisisntagoodname @yourtropegirl @smoothdogsgirl @createdbytinyaddiction @siofrataylor @dreamingintheimpalawithdean @imaginary-world-of-mine @wanderingkat77 @grantward3 @rileyloves5 @chrsmom302 @buckys-shield @mylittlefandomfanfictions @breezykpop @catch-me-im-a-falling-star @tabi-toast @ssweet-empowerment @hayleesteashoppe @chrixa @feelmyroarrrr @akidura79 @louisespecter @castellandiangelo @ccrossfire @assxmblesstuff @edward-lover18 @princessesnaddy @1d-niallerbieberforever @dxbrevgrey @bellastellaluna @christopher-or-steven @brokenwingsxix @yourenotrogers @im-a-fandom-slut @royalexperiment256 @palaiasaurus64 @mysteriouslyme81 @captainumeboshi @avengingalec @tacohead13 @badassbaker @pegasusdragontiger @evanstanimagines @avengersgirllorianna @sfreeborn @dorisagent101 @antisocial-angel13 @mizzzpink (Inbox me if you’d like to be added to the tag list)

Part 4

do u ever hate ur ex-fp so much that you want them to suffer and feel pain for what they did to you and the thought of them being happy makes you seethe because you did so so much for them and you poured your heart out for them and they just dumped you on the streets for someone else and you can’t ever forgive them no matter how hard you try and u really don’t want to

im diggin samurai flamenco as a deconstruction of superhero/super sentai shows n tropes while still really firmly holding onto the boundless optimism and faith in humanity that characterizes the best of them?? its a bunch of goofball shit n suddenly hardhitting shit with dashes of ptsd, but like. it doesnt shy away from how much hard work it is, to do good things and try to be a kind and just person day by day, and it still says ‘here is why we do it’ and 'we want to,’ and its making my heart sing

also it has my angry bisexual daughter and her big-hearted gentle angel lesbian gf and their no-nonsense emotionally stable girlfriend. so. y'know.

That Time Carl Died in a Really Stupid, Totally Avoidable Way.

So, in our group, we have Carl. Carl is a dwarven cleric, and is typically running stupid schemes to get rich or making really, really bad decisions that the rest of the party emphatically argues against. 

For this particular story, we had been traversing a mountain range in search of some pottery our boss wanted. We got there and it was all gone, but that doesn’t really add anything to this story except to note that we were all extremely agitated. Then some old lady (who we are convinced was actually a shape-shifted ancient silver dragon - maybe with Alzheimer’s) tells our cosmic sorcerer that there is an observatory at the top of the mountain, and maybe we should check it out. So we did, and we set off the next day up the mountain. As we went, it started snowing. And snowing. And snowing. After all but two of us failed our endurance checks, we took shelter in a crevasse, but it was looking grim. We were facing almost certain death. So our knight took out one of three stones that we received from the God of Death for bringing him back to life. These stones act as boons from the god. So the knight buries the stone in the snow, and when the god of death shows up, he asks for us to be transported to the observatory and kept safe till morning (you know, in case there are monsters there). So the god agrees, and we are carried to the top of this mountain in the arms of death-angels, and one stays with us in a sort of bubble until morning. That’s when we start to suspect that there might be other dangers that monsters. Like no atmosphere. Which was correct. In the morning the angel vanished, with its bubble, and we were plunged into upper-atmosphere levels of oxygen. We survived that, found out that the observatory had belonged to what we think was the mate of the old lady-dragon, and that they had giants as servants once-upon-a-time. We explored the small (comparatively) fortress and found some furs and stuff, and a way down inside the mountain, rather than trying to climb down its face. When we came out, we passed by the spot where we had enacted the death-boon before, and it had sprouted a completely black plant, that a quick nature check told us was yeah, totally poisonous. Y'know, cause it’s a death plant. So then we finally come to Carl. 

Carl is an alchemist, and decides he wants some of this poison for his kit. Our DM advises him how hard the checks were (both of which he was not trained in), we all tell him, “Dude. You’re messing with Death again. He already doesn’t like you.” But Carl decides to try it anyway. He doesn’t even get to make it to the second skill check, because he rolls a 3 on the thievery check to cut the plant gently. As a tiny drop of liquid from the plant lands on Carl’s cheek (keep in mind, this is 4th ed, and dwarves have a +4 bonus to saves against poison effects), our DM hands him the Giant Die of Death, and tells him to make a death save. Because he has a +4, he only needs to roll a 6 or better. What does he actually roll? 

1. He rolls a one. And immediately keels over stone cold dead. 

anonymous asked:

Headcons of j seen Bruce sleep?

Awwww! *cue much fluff because this is one of my fave things!*

Ok, so I don’t imagine J being a very heavy sleeper. He survives on cat naps here and there until he reaches a level of exhaustion that makes him crash for like a whole day or something. So generally, he’ll be awake long after Bruce has conked out.

Sometimes he’ll just lie there and watch him, and sometimes he might run his fingers and hands over him, just because he can and because this is the thing he’s always dreamed of and now he’s got it and it’s hard to believe most of the time, so he’s just gotta touch to make sure it’s real.

He also likes resting his head on Bruce’s chest to listen to his heart because it moves much slower than J’s and he likes how deep and steady it is.

Then, of course, there are the nights J gets bored so he’ll grab his makeup bag and doodle on Bruce or give him some sort of makeover and, y'know, he hasn’t been able to do that too often because it’s just so hard not to laugh, especially when he tried out the purple lipstick on him! He also braided all of his hair once and has to admit Bruce didn’t look too bad with a wild mop of wavy hair, although the glare made him look a bit like an angry merman.

Because he’s watched Bruce so often, he’s learned to tell which nightmares he’s having by the expressions on his face. He’ll frown a certain way, or his mouth twists and turns just so and, if he can, J will calm him down without waking him, by smoothing his eyebrow or stroking his face (stahp me I’m in Uber Fluff territory now!) and him softly until Bruce settles down again.

Mostly he just likes watching and enjoying the feel of having him there. Hearing his breathing, smelling him, feeling how warm he is without even needing to touch him because J is usually pretty cold and Bruce is like his own personal hot water bottle. He just wants to enjoy having his Batsy right there beside him.

anonymous asked:

I think it's so great that so many people hate this orange fucker that the first person to get this URL was you and not some trump supporter like you go, you're out here doin the real hard work

I snagged this URL like, three days after trump announced his candidacy for president (y'know, that infamous “Mexicans are rapists” speech) and it was probably the best decision I’ve made so far in my life lol

coldsummerdotcom  asked:

For being so concerned with the productivity of queer millenials, most of these folks are horribly emotionally lazy. "Please do my emotional labour for me, I can't stand to admit my short comings, my ego is scared, help, villify me with keywords I can scoff at! Help me activate my inability to care! I keep being eaten by the guilt of my sins!"

“Why does no one want to spend time around me when I’m purposefully choosing to be destructive to their sense of self?”

Like, people can’t even abide by the fact that some folks might not want to spend time with them because they’re bad people? Like it astounds them that someone might not choose to suffer through their company. It’s amazing to me how entitled some people feel to the company, time, and space of people, especially marginalized people who make a conscious effort to stay way from toxic folks, lol.

- Mod A

queensavii  asked:

Hey! I just recently found ur blog and I absolutely love your work! Do you think you could do an imagine ((with extra fluff;) ) where the reader is a drummer and singer in a band and they're dating Ethan and him and teamiplier goes to one of the reader's concerts and they're all awed,shocked and amazed and Ethan is just so proud of his little drummer girl

o K this is so cute and i can’t and it’s nearly midnight when i’m starting this and i have classes tomorrow but this is really really really cute and i can’t

I Favor The Drummer

When you were eight years old, you got your first drum set and immediately fell head over heels for the idea of creating unique beats. It turned into your favorite thing to do, and you drove your parents absolutely insane. It was sort of hilarious; especially because you were never bad at it, you just were really loud. You were told by a teacher that you have the habit of hitting drums pretty hard, but the drumsticks you have are super durable. You’ve broken pairs before, but the practically endless supply has been replenished time and time again by your ridiculously supportive parents.

Honestly, you just loved the damn instrument. You loved music, playing it in front of crowds with your hair down and your makeup done, looking absolutely badass while people are cheering. It’s been your dream for the longest of times. But you’re beginning to live it, one show at a time.

At the beginning of a west-coast tour in your hometown of Los Angeles, you were out shopping for some thrift store tanktops to rip up and cut up. It wasn’t until you were out of the store that you met Ethan.

He was ridiculously sweet to you, because you forgot your bus card, he let you use his. On the way back to your stop, he talked with you, and you asked him if he liked music.

“I mean, who doesn’t? I’m not sure if I have anything specific I like, but music is still the shit.”

“I’m a drummer,” you smile, “that’s why I asked, is all.”

Your meetings at the bus stop turned a lot more natural, because you’d walk there to go to band practice and he’d walk there to go to his office.

“I actually do YouTube,” he sounds prideful, “my viewers are the best people I’ve ever met. They’re fantastic and I can’t believe how much support I get from them. Especially now, when I’m working as an editor and also a content creator.”

“That’s so admirable. It’s kinda like how I feel with my band, y'know, like anybody who’s ever listened to us are just the best people, no matter what they have on their minds. They’re there then, and now.”

“I’d love to see your band sometime,” he smiles to you. You laugh a little, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“That’d be awesome, thanks. I’ll subscribe, and find some time to watch you.”

As you and Ethan talked more and more, you understood each other more. Your professions actually weren’t too far off from being the same. It’s hard to make it both ways, and it’s really fun both ways. He always talks about the people who watch him in the best possible light, and you talk about the people who listen to you in the best possible light.

You’re still surprised when he asks you to coffee one morning.

“Like… now?” You ask, worried that you’ll be blowing off the girls. It’s always been a habit of yours to come to practice, rain or shine, sick or healthy.

“If it’s fine by you,” he smiles. “I don’t have much work today, I did a lot of it in advance so we could have the morning.”

“I guess I do need some coffee,” you grin, and walk with him to the little shop down the street.

He buys you your drink and you sit and talk for a little over an hour. You don’t even feel the time passing, because his stories and his voice is timeless. You’re so amazed that he’s so persistent and constant in his job, and you think that he thinks the same of you. It’s really the greatest.

For a while, you sit and talk with empty cups about everything and nothing. Favorite things, horrible first dates, high school. It’s casual and you switch topics so smoothly. It makes you happy to see him smiling at you across the table. Especially because of how he looks at you, with the same pride that one would with a fond friend.

It only takes you another couple months of small coffee rendezvous for him to ask you on a proper date. You end up spending a day together at the coast, chilling and building sand castles. He makes you laugh and you tell him that you want to go out with him again, and he beams with happiness when you guys step your feet into the water. It’s really, really cold.

One day, at the coffee shop (you managed to reschedule practice to a couple hours later than it used to be), you’re both sitting together hand-in-hand.

“I have a show this weekend,” you sort of mumble. “I was wondering if you wanted to go, ‘cause you still haven’t seen me play.”

“I’m totally going,” he announces. “And I’ll even bring my friends. I’m sure you’re going to be amazing, okay?”

You hide a shy smile, because he’s the one person you don’t want to mess up for.

The weekend rolls around faster than you thought it would. You’re waiting backstage at a small venue, knowing that Ethan’s in the audience for you. You keep twirling your drumsticks between your fingers, doing some light vocal warm-ups because you always sing the stripped-down songs. Your T-shirt is one he bought you; “I Favor The Drummer”, only you cut off the sleeves and added some other little holes because drumming gets really warm really fast.

The moment you get out on stage, you can hear people yelling for you. You turn your head to see Ethan and a group of people, all in the shirts, smiling with such pride. And Ethan’s is the biggest.

Your set is probably the best you’ve ever played. You throw in some cool drumstick tricks, and as always, end up getting up to the microphone once to sing. There’s something sweet about feeling like you’re singing to someone. You can’t mask it in your smile, in your stare to Ethan, in the way he nearly makes you giggle on stage by smiling right back.

In fact, the minute you’re off stage, Ethan comes over and gives you the biggest hug. And for a second, you wonder if it’s the right time to kiss him, because you could. You’d love to, in fact.

So you do, in a crowd of people who just listened to you play the most amazing show you ever had. And Ethan, of course, caused all of it.

Even though you’re sweaty and tired and you’re pretty sure you’re gross, he picks you up and spins you around and smiles like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

anonymous asked:

What would happen if the s/o of ut, uf, and us sans fell on top of them by accident while tripping and landed on the bed?

Undertale Sans

Is gonna have a hard time believing it was an accident.

“Y'know, babe, if you wanted to jump my bones so badly, all you had to do was ask.~”

He won’t let you live this down. In the future, when you’re about to do the do, he makes a comment about how he’s disappointed you didn’t throw him on the bed this time. It was actually pretty hot.

Underfell Sans

He takes the opportunity to turn this into a make-out session before you can even apologize. What happens next is up to you. ;)

Underswap Sans

 He believes you when you say it was a genuine accident, but he can’t stop his mind from going there. He gives you a quick kiss on the nose before getting up again. 

anonymous asked:

This may sound super cheesy, but what if one of Burr's friends took a moment to trace some constellations out of his freckles then just go on to tell him how they are just as wonderful as the stars.

“Please? Pleasepleaseplease?”

“No, please stop asking. I regret even telling you guys.” Aaron huffed, looking away from John and brought his phone out from his pocket just to stare at and fiddle with. He didn’t want to make eye contact with the man, he’s too embarrassed and he hates how hard John studies him now. As if he’s trying to see past the makeup.

“Hey! Look, we’re both freckled guys. You have nothing to hide. Y'know, unless lil’ Burr was lying?”

“I didn’t lie.” Aaron said tartly.

“Prove it.” John’s voice had a hint of challenge, and Aaron hated losing. He turned to glare at John, then stood up and stormed off to his bathroom for a makeup wipe. As he expected, John hopped onto his feet and followed behind, obviously interested in seeing the makeup come off for himself.

‘Or he’s tryna check to make sure I don’t just dot myself up.’ Aaron thought, turning into his bathroom and plucking his makeup removal wipes.

Once he got two out, he went through the tedious fight of rubbing his face with one to get the majority off and used the second to make sure it was all gone, rubbing his cheek with a towel for good measure.

Aaron turned back to John, a soft heat stinging his ears at the gawking expression he wore.

“What?” Burr asked.

“You have a lot of em– I dunno! I just expected… like two or three? Not like– a face full! Wow! You don’t even look the same!” John started, throwing his hands up and gripping onto Burr’s cheeks.

“Stop.” Aaron hissed, raising his hands up for a few seconds before thinking against it and bringing them back down to his sides. He took a deep breath through his nose as John marveled, forcing himself to relax and not be so fussy. He didn’t know why he was being so fussy.

“You… wait here!” John said, letting go of Aaron’s face after a couple of seconds and whirling around to exit the bathroom.

“This is my house, you can’t just tell me to wait– John! What’re you doing?” Aaron called. He furrowed his eyebrows at the echoey ‘Nothing!’ He got in response.

“I’m not taking pictures.” Aaron said flatly when John came back, crossing his arms to assert himself before noting that Laurens had not came back with a phone but instead a pen.

“What’s that for?” He asked out of curiosity.

“I want to show you something,” John said out of good nature, raising a hand to gently hold Burr’s chin and uncapped the pen with his teeth.

“Ew.” Aaron scrunched up his nose, “You can keep that pen.”

“Donf be thuch ah faby,” John huffed through, rolling his eyes and brought the pen to Aaron’s forehead. Burr furrowed his eyebrows, a sudden anxiety coming up. He didn’t mind people drawing on him, but when it was pen? What if it got stuck there?

“Thelax,” John snorted, “Canth draw with you pouthing.”

“I’m not pouting!” Aaron said, cheeks turning red at Lauren’s smirk. He took another breath, forcing himself to relax and not get fidgety with the feeling of the pen gliding across his face.

“You’re gonna draw a dick.” Aaron said flatly.

“You caught me.” John nodded, a gleam of mischievousness in his eyes. Finally, when he was presumably done, he pulled the pen back and capped it, grabbing onto Burr’s shoulders and turning him to the mirror.

Aaron expected to see some monstrosity of a picture on his face, but when he saw the big dipper and a few other pictures, he felt a genuine rush of surprise. “What’d you do?”

“I drew constellations!” John said proudly, pulling the pen up to trace one he made on his nose, “That’s suppose to be a cat.”

Aaron did not think it looked like a cat.

“And that one there-” John went to outline his cheek picture, “That’s Ursa Minor!”

“Why isn’t it Ursa Major?” Aaron asked, lifting a brow and looking at Laurens.

“Because Ursa Major is on my face.” Laurens said, as though it was obvious.

“So that makes you?”

“Your mom. Congratulations, you’re adopted. And! With those freckles, they’ll believe us!” John laughed.

Aaron felt his lips quirk up into a tiny smile, rolling his eyes halfheartedly and plucked the pen right out of John’s grip. “Nobody’s gonna believe anything until you have the same shitty doodles on your face.”

“Shitty? Um, maybe because you drew them. I’m an artist.”

“Sure you are.” Aaron smirked, uncapping the pen with his teeth to mock the man and brought it up to draw.

saint-j92000  asked:

Yo, to get with everyone in this askbox for a sec; I totally, completely get it. I understand the feelings of self doubt- or outright self loathing- especially as it pertains to art. For years I wanted to be a professional illustrator growing up (well "manga artist" specifically bUT WE ALL KNOW THAT PHASE INNIT), and as time wore on and I directly compared myself to my classmates (and floundered in said art class), I grew REALLY goddamn bitter. (cont. 'cos this ain't all fittin' in one ask)

I would deny every appraisal given- even those given by my actual art teachers- I was embarrassed that some of my art was on display in the art department, and I reacted to criticism with genuinely upset tirades of “OH MY GOD I’M TERRIBLE I SHOULD JUST GIVE UP FOREVER”. I felt like an absolute failure, unable to compete or compare with my peers on any level and unable to fullfil what I thought was my calling. It hurts, and I will never belittle anyone for feeling like that because I was there.

Thing is though, what is that negativity in service of? Most of the time, self pity. In fact, nearly always. ‘Cus heck, wallowing in your own personal salt mill is way, way easier then taking the time to improve and practice. Because if you’re chasing a career in the arts, of any and all kinds, that’s the secret; draw a lot. Deaw every day. See every drawing through to the end- even the “bad” ones. That is the ONLY way to get better- and you WILL get better. 

 If you’re just drawing for fun or as a hobby, though? Then fuck it; why are you putting yourself through the ringer and applying completely senseless “standards” to yourself? Just have with with it, innit. Embrace every flaw you think you see because at the end of the day, this is for your own personal fullfilment- and trust me, people will like what you make even if you think it’s garbage. Trust me, my partner adores every dang doodle I create even now. 

Obviously the “have fun with it” principal applies if you’re gunning for tge big leagues too- I mean ya gotta LOVE the craft if you wanna make a job out of it, y'know?- but the point I’m getting at is that art is all personal expression, it’s entirely subjective, and there’s just no need to drive yourself to tears over your percieved failings, 'cus you’re never as bad as you think and you’d be surprised how much people may love what you do- and the more you do it, the better you get!    

Finally though, as I said, I ain’t belittling anyone for feeling downbeat, and don’t give yourself a hard time if you feel cruddy sometimes; I shifted my main focus to writing music and kept drawing as a side hobby a full decade ago, and it still took me ages to break the self loathing cycle- sometimes even now I have to catch myself before I slip into it. Just have heart, keep at it, don’t give up, and eyyy, it’s all in good fun and for the passion of it at the end of the day innit? c: 

Natza Drabble - Trying Something Different
  • Erza: *flops over the table miserably, as she and Natsu wait for the others*
  • Natsu: Jeez. Don't tell me Jellal chickened out again. >__>
  • Erza: No... Jellal took me out last night, like he said he would. It was just... awkward as hell. -___-
  • Natsu: *rolls his eyes* I'm sure with a little patience...
  • Erza: Don't speak like Lucy and Levy. Please, Natsu. Don't. I hear that from them all the time, and I've been patient for a while... -___-
  • Natsu: *eyes the ceiling dully* Well, you're the one that brought it up. I'm just tryin' to be supportive.
  • Erza: I know... It's just not what I need to hear right now.
  • Natsu: *settles into an awkward silence, then a few minutes later* ... Well, what do you WANT to hear?
  • Erza: I don't know... Just be yourself. Say anything that comes to mind.
  • Natsu: *mutters* You'd kick my ass if I did that...
  • Erza: What was that...? >___<
  • Natsu: Nothin'! ^^; Well, uh... What do you usually do when you go out with Jellal? It seems like you're always driftin' toward him when we come back to Magnolia for a bit.
  • Erza: Just dinner, walks, the usual date stuff... Why?
  • Natsu: *rolls his eyes again* Well, you usually wind up like this when we're ready to get back on the road, that's why. :P You ever try going against "the usual"? Just do whatever you want?
  • Erza: Not really... I mean, the idea of a romantic dinner with Jellal is appealing. I swear that's what I want to do with Jellal, to spend time with him and get closer to him. What could we do differently?
  • Natsu: >__> I dunno, try somethin' fun? You like to gamble don'tcha? Go for a swim, play billiards, train, whatever you guys wanna do! It's not hard!
  • Erza: It's not that simple, Jellal isn't comfortable with those things yet...!
  • Natsu: *sigh* Well, I dunno what else to tell ya, Erza. If you're too afraid to get him out of his comfort zone and get him used to the "fun things", I don't see your relationship goin' anywhere. >__>
  • Erza: *slight bitter edge to her tone* ... Well... What do YOU do, when we're back here?
  • Natsu: Hang out with everybody. Go fishin' with Happy. Y'know, usual stuff.
  • Erza: *explodes* HOW IS THAT ANY DIFFERENT?! You do "usual stuff" and it works for you...!
  • Natsu: 'Cause I'm just bein' myself. I told ya, it's not hard. :P
  • Erza: W-Well... that's probably because you're not in a relationship yet...? *sounds unsure*
  • Natsu: I guess there's that, too... But c'mon, Erza! Do Alzack and Bisca seem "awkward" to you? They don't try to force anything, and they got a happy marriage!
  • Erza: ...
  • Natsu: Look, I'm not tellin' you to do anything. You wanna keep trying to make you and Jellal work? More power to ya! I'm just sayin' "whatever comes to mind", like you said to do. *shuts up after speaking his peace, and stands up to stretch and walk around for a bit*
  • Erza: *feels oddly guilty for making him frustrated*... Natsu... wait...
  • Natsu: *patiently waits to hear her out*
  • Erza: I... Maybe you're right. Maybe if I give Jellal some space, and let him adjust to a free life at his own pace... Maybe that'll work. I'm sorry, I 'm just so... frustrated. I don't know what else to do. -___-
  • Natsu: *shrug* It's your life. If that's what you want, go for it~ *toothy grin*
  • Erza: *smiles back, in spite of herself* How in the world do you put up with me...
  • Natsu: I dunno. Same way you put up with me, I guess? I mean, I wreck your strawberry cake and get you in trouble all the time, I dunno how you put up with that...
  • Erza: *narrows eyes slightly* You're not a nuisance. You're very important to me.
  • Natsu: *holds up hands* Never said I wasn't! I know that by now. ^^; You're important to me, too!
  • Erza: *suspicious glare holds up for a little while longer* Maybe we just haven't bathed together in a while...
  • Natsu: Ummm... What are ya tryin' to say? ^^;
  • Erza: Maybe I just want to spend time with you instead of Jellal~
  • Natsu: *something foreign in his tone that Erza can't identify* You sure? We might wind up dating next. ^^;
  • Erza: *gets up and hugs him affectionately* It can't hurt to try something new~.
Times in which Taron would brush your hair out of your face.

•When you’re sick.
Taron frequently comes in to check on you and make sure you’re okay, but tries to give you your space. At one point, Taron comes in to administer medication and you’re asleep. He feels awful waking you up, but he has to keep to the strict schedule that the doctor gave you. Gently, he brushes the hair from your sweaty face. Your fever is still high, making you burrow yourself under the covers despite how sweaty you become. 

“(Y/N), sweetheart, wake up.” You groan as you come to. Instantly, you are greeted with a pounding headache, terrible body ache, and nausea.
“You need to take your medicine.”
“No.” You try to burrow yourself further into the covers to get away from Taron and that disgusting medicine. He manages to coax you out of the covers just enough to hold the glass of water he handed you. He brushes your hair off of your face again, slightly flinching at how hot your forehead still is, despite going to the doctor two days ago.
“Good girl,” he says gently as you down the medicine. “If you’re not getting better by tomorrow we’re going back to the doctor. Now, get some rest, Darling,” He says as he kisses your forehead and takes the glass of water from your hands. He chuckles as you burrow back under the covers and promptly fall back asleep.

•When you two are 😏😏.
Various moans coming from the two of you fill the otherwise quiet room, the pale moonlight shining through your window being the only light in your shared bedroom. You open your eyes to see Taron biting his lip. Your head falls back against the wall and he takes the opportunity to attack your neck with kisses that are sure to leave bruises that you’ll have a wild time trying to hide in the morning. You tug at his hair and he laughs into the skin of your neck, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. Taron pulls back slightly when you move to look him in the eye again. Making sure he has a tight enough grip on you, he removes one of his hands and brushes the hair that has fallen onto your forehead. His hand comes to a resting point on your cheek as he leans in to kiss you and eventually rest his forehead against yours, all the while keeping his hips moving at a steady rhythm against yours.
“I love you so much,” he whispers breathlessly.

•When you’re goofing around with him.
It had been snowing for what seemed like days, and it finally slowed down enough that the two of you, in all your cabin fever glory, decided to go outside and play in it like the children you are. After hours of goofing around and making snow angels, building a snow man, and one snowball fight, the two of you fell into a laughing heap in the middle of your yard. The soft glow of the moon and the nearby streetlamp cast shadows on Taron’s face and somehow make his eyes glow an even softer green. The two of you lay there for a moment, you on top of him, taking in the glow of each other’s cheeks and noses and try to calm your giggles. Slowly, Taron reaches up and brushes the hair off of your forehead and tucks it behind your ear. He rests his hand on your jawbone and runs his thumb gently across your cold cheek as his eyes search your face.
“God, I love you so much,” he whispers as he leans up to kiss you.

•When you two are dancing.
At a friend’s wedding, the two of you have somehow managed to make your way to the dance floor as one of the many sappy love songs began to play. The breeze blows gently as the two of you spin around the dance floor, oblivious to the staring eyes. The wind ruffles his hair and messes it up just enough to make a soft smile spread across your face as you move your hands to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. The action causes him to smile at you as the breeze blows yet again. This time, the breeze blows a few pieces of your hair into your face. As the chorus of the song hits, Taron brushes your hair out of your face and kisses your forehead.
“Y'know, we’re gonna be able to do this at our wedding someday.”
“Can’t wait,” you whisper back as you bury your face in his neck.

•When you’re having your child.
The chaos around you is making it hard for you to quell the rising feeling of anxiety and for a brief moment, you wonder how Taron has kept his own anxiety at bay for the past few hours. He’s  been a nervous wreck since he found out you two were going to be parents. Taron is holding your hand, allowing you to squeeze the life out of it without so much as flinching at what he is certain are his bones being crushed into dust. Suddenly, you hear the cries of your new baby and tears spring to both yours and Taron’s eyes. He pulls himself away from you just long enough to cut the umbilical cord. They whisk the baby away to clean and measure him and Taron walks back over and grabs your right hand with his right hand. He rests his left forearm on the pillow above your head. Taron gazes down at you with a face splitting smile. He pulls back just enough to use his left hand to brush the hair out of your face.
“You did so well, baby girl,” he whispers as he kisses your forehead. He rests his forehead against yours, despite the fact that you’re a sweaty mess.
“I love you so much,” he says before he leans down and kisses your lips.