#and maybe a couple other people who are my friends i talk to regularly

[burstingsunrise]

i respect ur decision but i need to let u know, if u do stop writing i’ll have to cry myself to sleep every night. just saying. fr tho for real was the first cake fic i ever read and i’ve been completely obsessed ever since. ur so talented i love u and ur writing more than anything<3 i wish u well mwah

oh wow this is so so nice and i love u for saying it! but also i feel like i should clarify i'm not actively deciding to stop writing! it's just one of those things where inspiration and brain cooperation is more limited for me lately than in the past for lots of reasons, so every time i finish a fic, it feels like it could potentially be my last. which means every time i post, i think, "how would i feel about this being my last fic?" but as long as the ideas and words continue to come i will continue to pour them into delicious cake. <3

#i didn't mean for the a/n to come off as super serious but i realize without context it sounds pretty dire #the sort of funny thing about this #is the a/n is written the way it is bc i assumed the only people reading the fic would be #well...meg #my target audience <3 #and maybe a couple other people who are my friends i talk to regularly #i literally forget other people read it #but i am happy to be reminded! #and i really appreciate this ask more than u could ever know #even though you've now forced me to look at your icon of luke #with his shoulder out #and i know the spot is down there i KNOW it #i'm so hungry #ask #talkfastluvr #-> taste #writing

[syoddeye]

useless

Part one of my submission to @glitterypirateduck's O, Captain! Challenge. I rolled a d100 to select three prompts. Part one uses two:

42. The story spans over a period of 10 or more years

14. Opposites attract

~2k words, Price x f!Reader. Some liberties were taken with canon, obvs. Please enjoy!

You meet John Price when you're fifteen years old. 

Being the new kid is never easy, but you have some practice. This is the fifth time your family has moved since you were born. Such is life when your mother's an ambassador. However, it is your first time attending an actual school, and it's miserable. It doesn't matter who your mother is when your peers are the children of millionaires, celebrities, and executives. Compared to them, you're a nobody, just easy pickings.

But compared to John, you might as well be a princess. 

The son of your mother's assistant, you see John almost every day. You do not attend the same school, of course. Despite the awfulness of its students, your school has standards, after all, but every day after the last bell, you and your security detail fetch John to rendezvous at your family's sprawling home. Since both sets of your parents work long and odd hours, you spend a great deal of time together. Usually, you study, eat dinner, maybe read or watch television, but you do not necessarily talk. He's as surly as an old man, unpleasant on good days and unbearable on bad ones.

You don't look at John when he slides into the car anymore. You're enthralled in Sabriel, too busy to acknowledge him, that is until you feel his eyes on you. 

"What?"

"Didn't say anything."

"You're staring," You huff, lowering the book, only to almost drop it. "What happened to your face?!"

A purpling, inky black bruise covers John's swollen left eye. It's nasty, but he looks bored by the question.

"Scrapped. Some idiot ran his mouth."

"So you hit him? Then he hit you?"

"That's generally how it works," He says dismissively, crossing his arms and leaning into the seat to stare out the window.

You roll your eyes and return to the Abhorsen. "Your mom's gonna kill you."

He doesn't have a comeback for that. 

Predictably, his mom loses it when she arrives to pick him up. Throws a fit, her anger evenly split between John and his school. You watch from the top of the stairs as your mother consoles her friend and offers advice before they leave. John scowls, the expression deepening when he catches you listening in. You give a shit-eating grin before retreating to your room. Serves him right for fighting. Boys.

Of course, though, in a rotten turn of events, his mother leverages her position, and John enrolls in your school. Due to your relationship, you're naturally coupled together both in and outside of the classroom. It isn't for lack of trying on your peers' parts. You can grudgingly admit John's a good-looking boy. He has all the makings of a popular kid. Athletic, intelligent, and withdrawn, just enough to make people wonder in a good way. He's regularly asked out, the invitations often extended in your company. You don't miss how other girls look at him or glare at you.

Jokes on them, he's easily the most unpleasant person you've ever had the displeasure to know.

"What are you putting down on the careers interest form?" You ask one afternoon, sprawled on the couch while John sits with his back to it, reading.

"SAS. Enlisting next year."

"Military? How noble." You muse. "Your dad's not–"

"No," His head turns a fraction. "But my grandfather served. North Africa."

It's the first you've heard of it. John doesn't talk much about his family, nor do you make a habit of asking. You don't pay close attention to the adults' conversations either. "Well, you're pretty strong and clever, I guess," you temper the compliments, uneasy about doling them out to him. So you'll fair well, I bet."

He doesn't respond for a minute before a quiet "Thank you," ekes out. 

For whatever reason, your face heats. How embarrassing. You tap your pen against your blank form, grateful he faces away. Yet as a silence follows and stretches, irritation sidles alongside discomfiture. Honestly, this is what you'd like to show the girls at school. Prove that John's actually quite annoying. 

"Now's about the time another person would ask what I'm putting down."

John doesn't look up from his book. "I know what you're going to write."

You bristle. "Oh, do you? Enlighten me."

"Artist. Writer. Actress. Something useless."

In one fluid movement, you sit up and strike him across the crown with your notebook. "You're such an asshole!" You quickly create distance between his stupid, stunned face and yourself, stomping all the way to the stairs. Halfway up the steps, you crouch, pressing your face between the balusters. "You're not going to amount to anything!"

You don't speak to him after that—not entirely, of course. Your families are too intertwined to avoid him completely, but the incident strains your already tenuous relationship. It's awkward and tense, though neither of your families notices the shift. You sit in silence at joint dinners. You leave him alone in the den after school. You latch on to other singletons in class, avoiding him in the halls.

Months pass, and as John declared, he enlists the moment the school term ends. Freshly sixteen, and scheduled to ship out to basic. 

The morning he leaves, your mother drags you to his house. You stand speechless on the walk outside when he marches out with his rucksack. His head's shaved. He grew an inch and filled out some in the last few weeks when you weren't paying attention. Still a boy, but clearly on his way to becoming a man.

His mother all but shoves him at you to say goodbye. He stares down at you now, the twit. 

"Good luck." It's the nicest thing you can manage.

"Break a leg," He responds, hauling his bag over his shoulder. "Don't be useless."

You're too busy noticing how his eyes are the same color as the sky to feel even a twinge of irritation.

When he files into the waiting taxi, his mother bursts out into sobs. You watch the car until it disappears down the next street, trying to understand why your chest is so tight.

It’s a decade before you see him again.

~~

"I told the Prices you'd pop by."

You nearly fumble your card, phone cradled between your shoulder and ear, and clumsily tap it against the scanner. Mouthing an apology to the disinterested cashier, you take your bag and find your words.

"Why would you do that?" You ask, unable to completely mask your disdain. "I told you I have plans for New Years." 

Your mother tsks. "Surely you can pencil in some of our oldest friends for an hour tomorrow."

The automatic doors open, and the wintry air envelops you instantly. The plastic bag taut in the crook of your arm, you flip the collar of your coat and start the return trek to your flatshare. "I haven't seen them since graduation, since we moved back to Virginia."

"And you moved back to London, what, eight months ago?" Her end muffles a moment while she says something to her aide. Her voice is sterner when she speaks again. "They've been asking about your job, how acting's going…" Her voice trails, leaving the works or not going unspoken.

You swallow, tucking your chin into your scarf to consider the remainder of the conversation. "Fine. I'll stop by tomorrow afternoon. But I'm not staying late. I have plans." You don't. You did have an invite to a party a week ago, but that was before Jeff decided Jane from work was 'more his speed'. More 'conventional'. Though you'd seen the breakup coming for weeks and the relationship only a measly six months old, it still stung. Since coming back to London, you've had more than enough rejection.

Dozens of auditions. Dozens more interviews. Zip, zilch, zero. No callbacks, no non-speaking roles. And while you are the favorite stage manager for several small local theaters and Yes Woman, you weren't any closer to the stage. Something your mother loves to remind you of. Between her rapid ascent up the career ladder and your decision to study theater, an uncrossable gulf cropped up between you. It grew with each passing day. Moreso, when you reject every offer of financial support or connection. Her support means control. Ownership. You won't have it.

The conversation drifts to other topics—Dad, mostly. He's still putting around after her, content in his retirement. They'll spend New Year's at the White House, of course. You're pushing through the door to your place when she drops the bomb.

"John'll be there, too."

This time, you drop your keys.

~~

There is no excuse you can make to back out now. You wait on the top step of the Price's home. It's smaller than you remember. You hear people inside, music, and laughter. You hesitate. Given what you told your mother, they probably expected you far earlier than nine, but you barely mustered the courage to leave your room. You practically blacked out on the tube, leaving the station in a daze with your cheap bubbles. Taking a deep breath, you reach for the door. No time for stage fright.

The foyer is a time capsule, aside from the dozens of coats hanging on hooks and a coat rack. Framed photos of the Prices throughout the years line the short corridor leading further into the home. John's center stage for most of them. You hang your coat and slowly edge down memory lane, pausing when you see your own face looking back at you. Aged fifteen, the first day of school. You and John in different uniforms, sulking for different reasons. It was the last time you were the same height.

There are a lot of photographs of you in the hallway gallery. Ones you didn't know existed. You get stuck on a still of you and John from behind. It's from the London Zoo, from some ridiculous event your mother's work mandated you attend. The photo is simple, accidentally composed almost professionally. You and John lean against the rail overlooking the lion exhibit. You excitedly point at the pair lazing about in the shade, and John…John's focus is on you.

The sound of your name rips you away from the moment, and Mrs. Price beckons from the doorway to the living area.

The reunion between yourself and Prices is sweeter than you thought it would be. It's odd to see them older. As jarring as it is when you see your own parents, as sparingly as those visits are. Wrinkles, spots, graying hairs…But unlike your parents, none of the familiar warmth is missing from the Prices. They fuss, complimenting your secondhand dress and gushing over the bottom shelf champagne. They awkwardly introduce you to the closest guests, some claiming to have met you as a teenager. But you feel Mrs. Price's hand on your back, gently ushering and ushering, until you arrive at the threshold of the kitchen.

He's taller, tanner, and a hell of a lot broader than you remember him.

"John? Look who's here!"

You step into the kitchen with a gentle nudge from Mrs. Price, and the figure from many memories and more than a handful of confusing and mortifying dreams turns to face you.

Your name slips from his mouth in an arrogant purr, and the little tug of his lip into a smirk instantly pokes at your patience. He's literally only said your name, and already he's resurrected the same shade of vexation you felt ten years ago.

You're going to need something stronger than champagne.

#ocaptainchallenge #john price #john price x reader #john price x f!reader #price x reader #price x f!reader #lieutenant john price #smug lieutenant john price is so important to me #i'm also obviously not british and i'll admit i did maybe 10% of the research i usually do.....apologies #lightly edited i was too excited

[buckets-and-trees]

Hehe I’m here with a dare 😏

So I’m such a sucker for angst but with a happy ending - I’d love to hear how you would go about writing a forced proximity meets the one that got away fic, from what I’ve read of your writing I feel like you’d really do those tropes justice

Alright, Em... let me stretch my fingers and get ready for this one...

I THOUGHT about this.

Ari Levinson

Modern AU - college and then mid-to-late-30s Ari

We're going to call this... er... maybe an "imagine-novella"? It kind of ended up being a 2500-word plot exploration. No content warnings, only some language.

You meet Ari in college. He’s tall and toned and tanned, always in a baseball cap unless forced otherwise, and he’s already sporting a full beard and looking good with it. He’s a couple of years older because he worked out of high school before for a couple of years - long enough to put enough away to pay for tuition without being a burden on his parents. When you meet him, it's when there's the huge club rush out on the quad your junior year. It's in the middle of campus in the first weeks of the semester so everyone does wander through by the nature of when and where it is. You see the table for the radio station on campus. Truthfully you don't even notice him at first. You're standing twenty feet away looking at the sign and thinking about whether or not it's worth it, maybe shake things up, you love music - you're that friend always making the playlists, discovering new songs and bands, dying to go to big music festivals, etc, and your campus has a radio station...

Someone else was talking to him as he's running that table, and they leave and then he sees you standing there, and, "Hey! You!"

It jolts you out of your thoughts and you're caught off guard for just a half a second, and go, "Me?"

He grins, "Yeah, you."

Your feet move before you even really think about it because ... that's just what you do when people call you over. It’s an instant crush for you but you try and reign it in, because he's excited that you're actually interested in the station, and you genuinely are excited about it. He's a Journalism and Communications major and the station manager, and so he gives you the pitch to come to an info meeting they're going to have, he'd love to see you there.

And you do go. Because... it doesn't matter that he's cute. The more you keep thinking about it, you decide it would actually be fun. You get a show, you make a lot of new friends with the other station people - some of them are total nerds, but they're all fun or nice or a little bit irreverent, and so station meetings once a month are fun. You're a good DJ. You have fun with your shows. Ari takes note - he appreciates it. The station is his baby. He puts everything into it. He's not outgoing, even though he's charismatic, but he can't help but gravitate to the people who really fucking love it like him. You don't get to know him super well that first year, but when it's time for him to appoint new directors to run the station the next year, he pulls you aside and says he loves what you've done with your show and wants you to think about applying for a director position.

You do. It's going to be your last year of college, the DJ gig hasn't been work, it's just been fun, and ... you love being part of the team, love to work on exciting projects, dig your hands into the dirt and make something great, so yeah. You throw your hat in the ring, because why not? And it could be an extra thing to go on your grad school applications.

Ari not only picks you for the team, he actually ends up picking you to be the director of programming, his number two, the one who oversees the DJs and putting together the roster for shows each semester. And that's what launches everything to a new level.

You lock down DJs that you want to come back the next fall, you both go away for the summer, but now you're texting somewhat regularly about ideas for the next year, things you'll work on, and the real working friendship develops. When fall semester starts and it's full speed on the ground, you and the team of directors really work to make the station great, but it's A LOT of you and Ari.

And to say he becomes one of your best friends senior year? Maybe. You tread that line because there's still that part of your heart that crushes on him, but the part that loves doing everything station and music and working on this big beast together? That's big. You let that be the focus. Because it's fun. And he's fun. And he's brilliant (like you, which is why he likes you) and ambitious (like you) and he's got this great, rich laugh that you get to hear a lot. And a lot of your other friends are busy with their senior years, too, and so are you, and so you don't mind any of the time you spend working on the station with Ari and the other directors and the DJs who are just this pack of a couple dozen people who come and go. But a lot of you and Ari.

And he doesn't date anyone. Not the entire time you know him. You heard/thought maybe there were some hook ups he indulged in during your junior year, but not that year before you both graduate. He clearly doesn't have time for a girlfriend and doesn't love anything more than the station, but you do think - just a little bit - just in the back of your head sometimes - that maybe you don't hear about him with anyone this year because... he's not going to date you - that would be unprofessional for you two and the station - but maybe it's because you are close. And maybe as you get closer to the end of the year... maybe he's going to make a move. He's always said he's already a confirmed old bachelor, but the way he smiles at you, the way he values your opinion, how often he says how amazing you are and how he appreciates you... you're going to be the girl who finally gets him.

But time is running out. And even though you both pour your hearts into the station together, there are never any late nights (those are given to studying, passing classes, etc). The last month, he says stuff like he's never going to see any of you again. Jokingly. You all laugh as directors because how could he mean it? He's made you all a family.

He makes more comments like that in the last weeks and days, and when he says he's going to shut down all of his social media, because he only had it to run and promote the station, you call him on his bullshit. And he says no. He's serious. He's going to go into journalistic photography, and he's going to create the network he needs where he needs it, but he's not playing the PR games to do it - the dream is wild nature photography, work in remote locations, never talk to humans again if he can help it. And it's so stupid. You tell Ari he's being ridiculous. He can't want to live so far off the grid.

"I'm sorry," he says, kindly but matter-of-factly. "But when we graduate, I'm never talking to any of you ever again."

You scoff. But this conversation is now just you and him in the station on a Saturday afternoon. But then you look at him for a half a second and really see his face. And you think he means it. "Ari, I did not give my fucking heart and soul into this station for the last year as your friend for you to never talk to me again. You at least owe me a lunch five years from now."

He smiles. "Okay. Maybe in five years. You find me in five years and I promise I'll take you to lunch."

And you graduate a week later, and he says goodbye, and you're not sad about it. Maybe just a bit wistful for what might have been. But after that specific "five years" conversation, you realize it was only you who was maybe a bit foolishly hopeful. He'd really never led you on. You never told him you had a crush (you had tried to keep it professional, because you did genuinely love the friendship) and he'd never given you or anyone else any illusion that he was there for anything other than working on the station and that bonding and camaraderie. If he had led you on, if there had been late nights, maybe you would've been hurt. But aside from being secretly hopeful, there really wasn't much harm done by your pining. But maybe in five years, you'll look him up for that lunch he agreed to.

He does fall off the gridl You take a busy summer job and then a paid internship in the fall, and you try and track him a bit, but you do just… get busy and move forward. You think of Ari a lot, but less and less as the time goes on. You know the name of the newspaper he was going to start off with right after graduation, and although he got rid of social media, he did have a beautiful website he set up for his photography. And you check that once in a while, but less and less. You get a fulltime job after the internship, and your life becomes even more full with the things that aren’t Ari, and sometimes you think about him, but most times you don’t.

When that five years rolls around, you start to think of him more again.

But you let it come and go.

You didn’t necessarily feel like you were living your best life, and if you were going to get one lunch to win over the one who got away and make him realize you were the love of his life… maybe you’d feel a little better – a little more accomplished, go to the gym more, be really something – in ten years.

Fleeting thought in ten years. Though you do think of him when you realize it’s that ten year mark. And you just kind of smile because ten years ago you was so wildly for him, and five years ago you was still a touch foolishly hopeful, and wouldn’t it be something if you did look him up now? But you really don’t need to anymore.

Then a couple of years later, you move to a new place, and without ever even trying, who else should somehow be living two doors down from you but Ari fucking Levinson?

And he sees you first. He’s just gotten home, opened the door from the garage into the house to be reunited with his good girl – a beautiful golden retriever who’s waited for him all day, walked with her trotting along at his side out to his mailbox, and looks down the street to see who’s just sending off the movers out of curiosity for who’s moving into the neighborhood, and he does a fucking double take because it’s you.

His god damn jaw drops and he laughs and then calls out your name.

You turn, hardly believing it but knowing that voice anywhere, and you laugh and shake your head. “Ari Levinson?”

You push the messy hair from the long day’s work of moving out of your face and are glad you’re not besotted for this man anymore, even if he does look like even more of an Adonis now, because you do know you look a mess, but you don’t even care. Having moved out of state for this dream job, you couldn’t be any more happy just to have someone from your past right at your new home base.

“’Of all the gin joints in all the towns in the world!’”

He meets you halfway, and he pauses a beat away from you because he’s not a hugger, but somehow there’s just this draw to hug you, and so he does. Only surprising to you for a second, but you’re so tired and it’s been a good day but a long day, and you were excited for this move, but you can’t deny a familiar face just feels good, so you melt into him just for the comfort of it for a moment. It’s just nice.

And when you pull back, the obedient but attentive dog draws your attention, lighting your face up with a beautiful grin. “Can I pet your dog?!”

But the two of you are already drawn to each other and bonding before he gets the, “Sure, of course,” out of his mouth.

He doesn’t wear those old baseball caps every day anymore, so he pushes his hand through his hair, and that move has practically made women drop their panties for him over the years, but you don’t even notice, too busy showering affection on his sweet golden girl while the two of you exchange the kind of words two of the oldest friends do when they haven’t seen each other in ages. Why is his chest so tight and warm all at once. Why does he have the thought cross his mind that you showing up here feels like home? Why are you falling in love with his dog and not with him? Wait, why did he think that?

This feels like a slippery slope.

But maybe he doesn’t fucking care.

When he is back inside his house, starting to pull something from the fridge to heat up for dinner, he remembers that he promised you a dinner.

It’s later than you two made the deal for, but… he’ll start there.

Just old friends who are new neighbors.

That night when he’s plugging his phone in to charge before bed, he remembers that he never did get rid of your contact in his phone. You might have the same number.

What he doesn’t know is that when he left the harbor, sure, you waited with that boat hopefully for a bit, but then you finally took your ship and sailed – everywhere really – and you may be eager to fall happily in love with his dog and genuinely grateful to know you’ll have someone in your corner on this new adventure, but you want nothing more than that good friendship in your life. He was one of your greatest friends all those years ago. But you finally got over that pining crush, and here’s no way you’ll be foolish enough to fall for him again, nor do you want to. You couldn’t ask for more than to have your old friend as your new neighbor, with his gorgeous golden retriever.

Ari does text you that night… just a welcome to the neighborhood again, and that he thinks he owes you a dinner, if he remembers correctly (he does, he’s just being casually clever), so he’s gotta take you out tomorrow night.

And it is still the same number, but you fell into the blissful rest of your bed, exhausted after move in day, so you don’t even see it that night. It will wait until you get to it in the morning.

Just like Ari will have to wait for what he wants. And work to try to even bring you around again.

Will he have waited too long and you’ll be the one who got away?

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson imagine #aspen's extended anniversary sleepover #em/writing for marvel #sleepover dare

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[4:51 pm]

Everyone who worked for CEO!Johnny could say he was a good boss. He knew every single one of his employees names from the interns to the mailmen that came in on a regular basis. He was friendly and never found the small talk with his peers to be annoying since he was usually the one to initiate it. He had even told his employees to simply call him John, no titles, just John. He was so friendly and open to being there for his employees that he had taken to removing the door from his office for some reason no one could remember.

Despite how friendly he was, he was also a very private man. He loved to learn and hear about his peers' lives, but very rarely shared personal information about himself. They knew where he went to school because he had his degrees up on his walls, but besides that there was nothing. His office was minimally decorated, no personal wallpaper on his computer, and they never heard him take personal calls. They had guessed he had friends just because he was so friendly it would be weird if he didn't. They had also guessed that a guy as good as he was would have to be taken.

Everyone in the office had their own theories. Maybe he had a college love that he was hung up on, maybe he was dating a celebrity and had to keep the details to himself, but the most popular theory involved you. You were on the board of a company that regularly worked with Johnny's company, so you were in and out of the building at least a few times a month.

A lot of the office wondered when you two would get together. Every time you came in Johnny seemed happier, more smiley, and laughing more. He took you out to lunch regularly which he never did with any other person from your company that came in. Some people had even sworn they had heard Johnny on the phone with you a couple times, his personal cellphone, talking about something besides work. Thus, a bet was started among the employees about when or even if the two of you would get together. The winning pot was big, with three of the main groups having already lost because after a month, 3 months, and 5 months there seemed to be no changes or confirmation between the two of you.

Today, the air felt different, the 6 month betters were more excited than ever for some reason they couldn't explain. Today, you were coming in for a meeting, and there was just some electricity in the air that they couldn't describe.

No one would be able to dispute that there was a serious lack of work being done while you and Johnny were in the conference room which was thankfully had glass walls. The noticed the smiles you both sent at each other, laughs that had to have been over something else besides the paperwork you were both looking over. Then there was the goldmine, the jackpot, a single lingering touch of your hands as you slid the file back in Johnny's direction.

There were whispers that the prize pool had just been won, and they only got louder as Johnny led you out of the office with a hand at the small of your back.

"I'll see you at home," you told him quietly as you both walked toward the elevator.

"Home?!" Johnny's secretary screeched.

You both froze mid-stride to look at her, taking notice of all the anticipated pairs of eyes that were locked on the both of you. Johnny lets out a surprised chuckle, “Yes, we live together.”

“Since when?” Another surprised voice calls out.

“Since shortly after we got engaged,” you reply calmly.

“You’re engaged?!” Various voices scream.

Johnny laughs heartily, “We’ve been married for four years. Why are you all acting surprised?”

“Nobody knew, we’ve had a bet going on for almost six months,” Johnny’s secretary replies while running a hand over her face.

“Dude- sorry, John. How could you not tell us?” An intern asks.

“I thought it was obvious. There’s a picture from our wedding day on my desk and I wear a wedding band,” Johnny shrugs shyly.

You quickly slap Johnny’s shoulder, “That wallet sized picture John?! How are they meant to see that?”

“I swear I said something before,” he pauses, “I told my last secretary… who retired at the start of the year. My bad guys.”

“Well, Johnny will make sure that he matches the prize pool with end of year bonuses. I’ll see you all soon, and see you at home. We’re going to have a nice chat,” you smile at the office, narrowing your eyes at your husband before you continue on your way to the elevator.

Johnny sighs, running a hand through his hair, “Thanks a lot guys. Wish I had a door to slam right now, do you know how long the waitlist is at our favorite restaurant is so I can fix this the right way? Two months. Can you let me in on the plan in advance next time?”

“We’re not going to bet on you finding romance as a married man, can you let us get to work now?” Another intern asks.

“As if you were working during that meeting we just had, forget about those bonuses now,” Johnny smirks.

His secretary smiles menacingly, “Then forget about that chat at home being short, I have backup now. And don’t forget who makes those reservations at your favorite restaurant.”

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #johnny x reader #johnny imagines #johnny scenarios #johnny fluff #johnny blurb #johnny timestamps

[wooahaes]

an act of caring for others

pairing: non-idol!husband!s.coups x gn!reader

genre: fluff. married life au. grad student!cheol mentions.

word count: 1.0k~

warnings: food mentions. sappy loving domestic life <3

daisy's notes: hes just so husband shaped idk what to tell u

In your married life, you never expected to become the kind of couple who hosted dinner parties regularly. 

Maybe “regularly” wasn’t the best word for it. It wasn’t as though the two of you hosted these nights every month or anything. Simply put: you learned a couple things in your two years of marriage. One was that several of your grad student husband’s friends were crushed underneath the weight of classes and jobs (you, thankfully, only had a job to worry about). Two was that a few of his friends couldn’t cook to save their lives (Wonwoo and Soonyoung and sometimes Vernon…). And three: you genuinely, truly loved cooking for other people. This one wasn’t exactly new, though. Sure, you loved cooking for your now-husband while the two of you were dating (sometimes he’d help where he could, always in love with the domesticity of it), but you loved cooking for your friends and family, too. 

A little over a year ago, you had invited his friends over with this ‘bring a side dish or a dessert, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to’ tacked onto the message. Hell, you’d mentioned that they could bring a lunchbox if they’d like to take leftovers—but they’d have to settle things out themselves. It was during that first night that you really got to listen to a few of them talking about life. You and Seungcheol were pretty lucky to not have to worry too heavily about things, since your job paid pretty damn well and you both also had family to fall back onto. But Joshua had been talking about how he kinda missed being in the U.S. sometimes because his mom only visited so often, and when you heard Seungkwan talk about missing Jeju and his family…

Well. It tugged at your heartstrings enough to ask Seungcheol how he felt about maybe picking a day every few months so that most of his friends could come together for a meal. He’d agreed pretty easily, admitting his own concerns over people like Junhui and Minghao who didn’t have family here. So the two of you started hosting little dinners here and there, always for people who were feeling homesick. Sometimes that would mean Seungkwan would call you up and ask if he could join the two of you sometime, other times it was Jun saying he would come help make dinner and Minghao would bring wine. 

Other times were like today: you and Seungcheol waking up early on a day you didn’t have to work, and immediately getting started in the kitchen after you’d had breakfast. This time, Seungcheol would have to stop helping in order to study for a bit since he had a test tomorrow morning in one of his classes, but that was fine. It was the prepwork that was the most hell, in your opinion: endless chopping and whatnot. 

You couldn’t help but admire him now. He was standing near the fridge, glasses sliding down his nose as he studied a recipe book, hair half-pulled up. Sometimes you thought that you would marry him again if he asked you, no matter how silly that would be. 

“You’re staring again,” he hummed, smiling. 

“I’m admiring, thank you.” 

He chuckled, turning to kiss you as you came closer. “I’m doing the math in my head,” he said, turning back to the book. “I might have to run to the store for more of this…” He tapped at something on the page, although you didn’t really care to look. You were still admiring him. He noticed a second later, and smiled into another soft kiss. “I hate that you’ll have to do the majority of the work this time…”

“I don’t mind,” you said. “I care about you and your friends. You can’t help that you need to study,” you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “You’re almost done, y’know?”

“I know,” he said, dragging out the word. His arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you in closer. “But you already do a lot for me. Other people would be annoyed—”

“And other people aren’t me, so I don’t care. You’re studying hard to get farther,” you said. “I wouldn’t have married you if I didn’t support you.” 

He smiled again, a charming look in his eyes as he gazed at you. Seungcheol was always so soft when he was near you, to the point where the tender look on his face was enough to make you cry on your wedding day. In turn, it made him cry, so you considered the two of you even. “I love you,” he said, soft as a promise. “Let me know if you change your mind and want Jun to come help. He said he didn’t mind—”

“It feels wrong to say yes,” you admitted. “I mean… We’re hosting. All the others need to do is show up.”

“Jun knows how many people we’re cooking for,” Seungcheol said. “There’s nothing wrong with needing help. Especially when I can’t help you.” 

With a sigh, you nodded. “I’ll think about it. Are you going to the store now?”

“Are you coming with me?”

Normally, you would… But duty called. You had things to keep working on. “Grab me something sweet?”

“I’ll be coming back—”

You swatted at his arm, but fell only deeper in love with the warm way he laughed at his own dumb joke. “Something chocolate, please,” you said. “We can share it if you want.” 

He stole one final kiss from you before he stepped away. “Whatever you want,” he promised. 

You purposefully waited until he was about to leave to call out to him. “I love you, too.” 

And, oh, that warm smile on his face made all of this work worth it. You would kiss that smile when the two of you went to bed tonight, exhausted from the long day and dinner that you had to put away any remains of when it was all said and done. And you would kiss that smile again tomorrow morning, just to remind him that you knew he could ace it.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @staranghae @synthetickitsune @weird-bookworm

#wooahaes.fall23 #wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #s coups x reader #s coups x you

[ateriblewriter]

It’s Kind of Funny (q.h)

requested: sort of but not really. they requested one thing and this is what my brain came up with but it doesn’t really go with what was requested but it kind of does at the same time? sorry about that.

warnings: none really

enjoy! let me know what you guys think (please)

y/n always loved the off season because it meant that she could spend more time with her beloved quinn, wether it was in vancouver or michigan. where they were didn’t matter, as long as they were together. it had been like that for years, until this year. this off season she was stuck in vancouver. with it being summer and all, many of her co-workers opted to take vacations, leaving the office short on people. y/n being the nice person she was, decided to take one for the team and work through her summer.

quinn planned on staying with his girlfriend but she knew he missed his family and urged him to go home to michigan to visit with them. to combat the fact that they weren’t going to be together, they set up a schedule with certain dates and times where they would sit down and chat over the phone. sometimes the call would take place over facetime, which often times of you were alone would lead to sexy times

unfortunately for y/n tonight wasn't a phone date night. after having a crummy day at work and desperately missing her quinn, she just really wanted hear his voice and maybe see his face. ideally she would love to curl up into his side as he held her, but she was going to take what she could get. and sure they had been messaging all day long but it wasn't anything compared to hearing his voice

"hey queenie. im a little busy right now what's up?" quinn inquired. he was currently out on the boat with his brothers and a couple of others. it wasn't the ideal place to have a conversation but since it wasn't a regularly scheduled time something must have been up.

even though it had been an unplanned call quinn was always willing and wanting to talking with his girlfriend. she was his everything. it had physically pained him when he had to leave her behind in canada. he wished like hell that he could have brought her along with him to michigan, but he understood how important her job was to her.

"i just need to hear your voice. today wasn’t good and i need you.” her voice was soft and quiet a hard combination to hear over the boat’s motor. but it had sounded a little bit off to him, there was a certain sadness oozing out of it.

"y/n? what's up? are you okay?” he pulled the boat to a stop as best he could. they hadn't started wake boarding yet, so no one was in the water. he could tell she was about to say something when he noticed the phone no longer in his hand.

"no phones quinn!" jack plucked he mobile device from his brother's grasp. there was a rule that bee put in place some time ago that no phones were allowed on the boat. of course they still brought them in case of emergencies, but that was their only purpose. this was friends and family time, everything else could wait.

"come one man, can i have it back? it's y/n" quinn tried to get his property back from his younger brother. "please jack."

"oh it's queenie? pass it here jack!" luke jokingly used the nickname that had been reserved only for quinn to use. the younger boy made grabby hands towards the thing in his older brother’s hands to which jack happily gave him, mischievous smiles dancing around their faces. holding the phone up to his ear, luke started to speak mimicking quinn's voice the best he could.

"queenie, darling, sweetie pie, my cutie patootie. you are the love of my life. i miss you so much. my love for you is endless. i want to marry you and have ten babies, three dogs, a cat and, maybe a fish!" the youngest sibling finished his little speech by making kissing noises into the receiver of the phone, causing everyone on the boat to erupt into laughter. everyone except quinn, who's face was beet red.

"luke come on. please, give it back" quinn began begging luke to stop and give him his phone back.

"but i'm not done talking to y/n. we still have things to discuss." luke giggled holding the device out of quinn's reach, coincidentally over the edge of the boat. “i haven’t told her about the big house yet!”

he had had enough. he was going to get the electronic back. climbing over his brother, quinn reached as far as he could and almost got it before the phone was knocked out of luke's hand. everyone watched in horror as the mobile device sunk to the bottom of the lake.

to say he was mad would be an understatement, quinn hughes was furious. y/n called him sounding like she was having a hard time with life and their summer distance and his stupid little brother had to go and dropped his phone.

"im sorry. i didn't mean for that to happen quinn." luke apologized profusely, but quinn wasn't listening anymore. sitting back down in the driver's seat, he turned the boat around, heading back for home base, so he could call her back on his computer.

y/n felt her phone vibrating in her pocket before she heard the deafening ringtone she programed into her phone letting her know that it was her favorite boy calling her. the caller was confirmed when she unlocked her phone, accepting the call and quinn's face popped up on the screen. once she answered and pleasant greetings were given, quinn listened as y/n ranted about her bad day throwing in an i’m sorry and a i love you every once in a while, and she did the same for him when it was his turn to complain about the people he was with.

“so what happened before?” y/n placed an elbow on the table and her head on her fist. she felt a lot better now that she was talking with her boo.

“it’s kind of funny, but it’s not funny.” quinn launched into the story of what happened after luke said what he did and why he was on a computer and not his phone.

“you really want to marry me? and start a family of ten with a couple of dogs and cats?” y/n joked about what the youngest hughes had said. a smile appearing on her face, that made quinn feel warm inside despite being thousands of miles away.

of course he did, he loved her and even had a ring picked out, he was just waiting for the right moment. the only thing he wasn’t sure about the ten kids. but who knew maybe a big family was in their future.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #nhl imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #quinn x queenie #luke hughes #jack hughes

[nightgoodomens]

I mean my husband's best friend since kindergarten is my own best friend's husband an we always joke that she and I are wives and they're husbands cuz were all so close and it's absolutely platonic so that can very well be the case with the Sheens and Tennants so that's not confirmation of anything

I do however get a vibe from DT and MS so it really wouldnt surprise me 😆 sus for real

No but that’s the whole point isn’t it. The joke was to call Michael David’s wife. The point is that she called him his boyfriend.

Here is the thing though - people keep on finding an excuse for every single moment between them in the last four or so years. So, let’s say in those four years Michael looked at David with adoration once. That’s not proof of anything. If they once jokingly called each other wives. That’s not proof of anything. I agree.

But when you add up everything that has happened within all these years and especially the last few months, to me if I were to excuse it as ah it’s just besties, I would feel like I’m just lying to myself. I would be insulting my intelligence because I really dislike choosing to pretend I don’t see anything. And if it came out that actually all of this is absolute bullshit then I’d just go - what was all the drama for then? All this hard work? They’re not promoting anything. Everyone would be absolutely content and happy if Michael and David were simply best friends. There was zero need to make it seem as more because they do make awesome best friends. So why make it more? And what, they’d be basically queer baiting? Tennant’s?! Sheen?!

Also… what would be the confirmation then? Because Michael saying David is easy to fall in love with means nothing. Michael saying “David, who I love” means nothing. Michael saying “I set him on fire fairly regularly” means nothing. The two of them looking at each other like they’re each other’s world means nothing. Michael beaming so brightly when he’s with David in comparison to others means nothing. David wearing Thin Dark Duke (trademarked by Michael) outfits and winking at the camera means nothing. David wearing “queer was always here” and other queer gear that GT highlights every time means nothing. Michael/David ensuring they live close to each other means nothing. The looks they share mean nothing. The bloody poems they write about each other mean nothing. That love beaming from them means nothing. The hug during awards, the happiness, the red carpet outing means nothing. Macbeth means nothing. Lapland means nothing.

Finally GT calls them boyfriends and it still means nothing.

I feel like even if we had a leaked sex tape then people would say that they’re just dedicated to their craft and it means nothing.

It doesn’t bother me if people don’t see it though, I’m just surprised about some of the hatred that’s coming from some posts… like, damn, why are people so angry at the prospect of maybe them two simply loving each other. I understand if people were suggesting there’s bad blood or cheating involved and it would be making people uncomfortable but all this information is coming from the four of them. They’re the ones who make people talk. They’re showing there’s no bad blood. Instead of stopping they’re carrying on and adding more each time the rumours are increasing.

So why so much hatred.

I also have friends who I’m really close with. I am sure many of us do. We do “couple” things with them. I buy my girl friends flowers. It looks like we are going on dates, I like taking care of people.

But the line is still so thick between what I do and what MS/DT do. That’s why I can’t pretend that this is the same.

#NightGoodOmens talks Michael and David

[1d1195]

Time Extra I

Read Time here

This was one of the first stories I wrote when I came back from my hiatus a couple years ago. I thought about it every day for years when I was really not feeling my best and finally put it on paper. There are, what I think, some pretty intense trigger warnings on the other parts of the series--it's pretty different than my other happy fluffy writing. This is not going to be too sad though--there is a vague mention of the previous parts so read with caution but it won't be anything vivid. It's fluffy stuff based on this ask.

~2.6k words

I hope you like it :)

Everything was completely perfect. After so many years of feeling distraught and lost, Harry thought it was a miracle—no, that she was a miracle—that he could feel so happy, so complete.

Which was why it was terrifying to imagine that he could ruin it all.

Over the two years since they reunited, they didn’t talk much about the actual day once they moved past it. She would hear from her ex-fiancé’s family now and again. She would run into them at the store or something. Most were pretty kind to her overall, but she could feel the contempt in their voices. It didn’t bother her completely—it was just frustrating that she knew they would neverunderstand.

Harry still went to his regularly scheduled therapy appointment. She did as well. They both worked, they both lived together, everything was easy. They danced in the kitchen and watched Niall play his guitar at open mic nights.

Everything was completely perfect. After so many years of feeling distraught and lost, Harry thought it was a miracle—no, that she was a miracle—that he could feel so happy, so complete.

Which was why it was terrifying to imagine that he could ruin it all.

There was a plan. A big to do. He was going to have her family, his family, their friends all in the same place. He was going to tell her how much he loved her and that he never wanted to be away from her ever. The way time had separated them only to bring them back together had to mean something.

Harry was terrified.

Maybe it was just some sort of savior’s complex. She always said he saved her that day. He didn’t see how it was possible. There was no saving he did. He did the drowning, he ruined her day, he made her pass out, he made her scared and feel sick to her stomach.

Sometimes, when Harry was having a bad day, he would think about what her life would be like if he hadn’t called her. He imagined it would be very much the same as it was with him, but she would maybe have a baby to take care of by then. She would make dinner for her husband. There would be a pile of laundry to fold on the sofa and a new episode of her show playing on the TV. It would be normal.

But it was normal in their lives as well.

There were days they argued—nothing major, but the world didn’t end the way Harry thought it would. She slept soundly beside him and reached blindly for him if they separated at night. Her baking skills never ceased to amaze him. On days that he didn’t even realize he was struggling a little more than others, he arrived home to his favorite chocolate chip cookies (the ones that she put walnuts in because she knew Harry loved them) or those fudgy brownies that he could only eat one or he would get a stomachache. But they made him feel whole. Cared for.

She was there.

So of course, when he asked her to marry him it had to be perfect. It had to be special. It needed to be the most perfect moment of her life. The people who loved and adored her needed to be there and see how much Harry adored her. Very few people knew what happened that day. Most only knew that she found Harry again. They fell in love again—or as she liked to point out—they remembered they were in love.

Harry had stayed home unbeknownst to her. The final details of the plan needed to be taken care of and he was nothing if not thorough. As far as she knew, they were having a date night when she got home from work. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that would set off some kind of alarm or spoil the surprise.

Harry was reading the speech he had on his phone—it had been memorized for over a year. He just needed to get the details in order. When she moved in, it felt so right. Part of him wished he had asked her right then.

You wanted red roses or pink ones? Niall texted.

Both.

Aren’t you a regular Casanova.

Proposing in front of everyone they knew seemed a little crazy now. Harry had left the restaurant after seeing the set-up, the little private table that would keep them out of sight of those waiting for her response. Now it was waiting. Waiting for her to get home, they would get ready, they would drive to the restaurant as boyfriend and girlfriend and hopefully return as an engaged couple.

Harry felt dizzy. If he messed up and it was less than perfect, less than what she deserved, he would lose his mind. She was his angel. Every single day. Each day he saw her and spoke to her. There was nothing, no one, more important than her. For a few moments he sat on the couch, his head tilted toward the ceiling, and he took those deep breaths that his therapist instructed him to take when he was feeling overwhelmed.

He thought about the first time he did them and she looked at him curiously when he turned his attention back to the show they were watching. “Are you alright?” She asked.

He felt embarrassed. “When m’feeling overwhelmed, m’therapist told me how t’breathe—”

She blinked. “Oh,” she interrupted. “Are you feeling overwhelmed about something I can help with?” She asked.

Of course she asked. The kindness that emanated from her was overwhelming in itself. “No, sometimes m’jus’ a little...” he shrugged.

She nodded understandingly. “I get that way too. Can you teach me?” She asked.

“Kitten,” he chuckled with a shake of his head. “M’sure y’know how t’do the deep breathing exercises.”

“Every doctor is different,” she shrugged. “Tell me,” she encouraged.

He knew she was trying to help bond with him over something she didn’t need to. Another way she could help take care of his addled brain. It was so sweet. He talked her through the steps, feeling awkward that he was explaining how to breathe to a professional that did this with her own patients every day.

“It’s supposed t’feel like a balloon is being inflated in your ribs,” he explained the metaphor his own doctor used with him.

“Oh, I like that,” she mumbled adding it to the back of her mind as she followed his instructions. “I’m sorry you’re feeling overwhelmed, baby,” she cooed softly, stroking his hair behind his ear. “Do you want tea or something?”

Harry smiled at the memory, eyes closed, face toward the ceiling. He heard the door open and in walked the angel. Her phone pressed to her ear, while she tilted her head to the side. Once she set her bag down, held the phone in her hand, she shook her head.

But when she made eye contact, she smiled at Harry, mouthing hi, and blowing a kiss with her free hand. Harry thought his heart would explode. “Mom, I just got home, and I’ve had a really long day,” she explained. “Can I call you tomorrow?” She asked. “Great. Love you too, bye.”

She put her phone on the counter and sighed deeply. “Every time I leave this apartment, I’m reminded why I never want to leave,” she grumbled.

Harry chuckled. “Everything okay with your mum?”

She nodded. “Fine, just going on and on about nonsense,” she rolled her eyes. “She’s meeting my sister for dinner and my sister did not offer to drive. It makes me immensely angry.”

“I see,” he frowned. “Where are they going?” He asked, wondering how much of the surprise her mum may have let slip.

“She didn’t say. I don’t care. It’s not like I can go drive her and pick her up myself,” she rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry. I had a tough day with some tough patients and I’m letting it dip into our date night,” the frustration on her face disappeared at the word date and a smile replaced it. “I’m looking forward to dinner and especially dessert. They have lava cake,” she said knowingly.

Harry already knew that of course. He was sure to tell the hostess that she would want one. “I know, kitten,” he smiled. It pained him to say the next sentence, but he had to. It wasn’t fair to her frustrated. “Y’know... if you’re not feeling well, we could stay in and—”

“Absolutely not,” she shook her head fiercely. “I just need to change and touch up my makeup. I need a nice date night,” she leaned over the couch, kissed him squarely on the mouth and then headed toward the bedroom.

Harry smirked, feeling at ease for a moment and listening to the sound of her hum as she fixed herself up for the night. His heart started pounding as the minutes ticked by. In less than three hours he would have a fiancée.

Or so he hoped.

The thought of her saying no hadn’t really occurred to him. They lived together, they loved each other, it seemed like a natural step in the relationship.

Right?

Suddenly the thoughts of inadequacy rushed through him and stuck to every crevice of his brain. Every thought was plagued with the notion of shortcomings. He wasn’t good enough for her. There were all the thoughts of her being trapped with him for nothing but ruining her original wedding day.

Maybe she didn’t even want to be married again. Maybe reliving the memory of the first time she tried getting married was something she never wanted to experience again. The idea that he would bring it up and make her sad made him nauseous.

“What time is our reservation?” She called.

“Six,” he cleared his throat trying to push the emotion out of his voice and mind, but it was next to impossible.

They would leave in twenty minutes.

She would say yes. Save him embarrassment. Wait to talk with him in private. They wouldn’t get married. She would move out. There wouldn't be a them anymore. Harry would—

“Do you think they’ll have bread?” Her voice was closer, Harry could hear her heels on the floor of the apartment echoing closer to him. “Or should I have a snack?” Her fingers were fiddling with the earring on her left ear then she opened the fridge to look inside, scanning the contents of leftovers, and cheese bites that she kept for emergencies such as the current one. “Are you hungry at all?” Harry’s stomach hurt so much but it wasn’t from hunger. She didn’t look at him to ask the question, focusing on the snacks too much to notice that he had left the couch. “I’m honestly starving—”

“Will you marry me?”

The room seemed to freeze. The moment of time suspended for who knew how long. Slowly, she half-closed the fridge door to get a visual of her boyfriend in front of her. Her dress was unzipped—she intended for Harry to zip her up once she found a suitable snack. Only one earring was in her ear. The bobby pin she had pinched between her teeth muffled her voice just a bit.

Harry was on the floor. Knelt all but two feet away from her, a little velvet box held out to her in his shaky hands, making the sparkling diamond twinkle in the kitchen light. The bobby pin fell from her lips and sounded like a bookshelf had fallen on the floor in contrast to the quietness of the moment.

“Harry,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, closing his eyes tightly to try and will the tears away. “I have this huge thing planned. All our friends and family are going t’be at the restaurant. It was supposed t’be a surprise because y’deserve everyone y’know and love t’be there but m’realizing y’might say no. Y’might—”

“Harry,” she repeated, her voice so gentle, but there was the sound of disapproval evident in just the tone of her voice.

“—not want t’get married. Not after last time. Maybe not t’me. M’sorry. I wanted it t’be perfect,” he whispered. “I had a whole speech planned ‘bout how much I love and adore you. How you’re m’favorite person on this earth and how I feel so completely safe and cared for and I want t’do that for you for the rest of our lives,” he paraphrased the monologue that he had memorized ages ago but suddenly couldn’t remember a word of it. “But you’ve had a long day and m’not going t’make it any easier asking in front of all of them if y’want t’say no. So, I have t’do it now. Will you marry me?” He repeated.

Her lips were parted just slightly. Her eyes shiny and beautiful. God, she never looked so beautiful. “Harry,” her voice was soft.

“If s’a no,” his voice cracked. “M’gonna say you’re sick. That I can’t in good conscience let y’go out when y’don’t feel well.”

“Harry Styles,” she whispered, a shake of her head. “Yes, isn’t an adequate enough word for what I want to say to you,” she promised.

His head snapped up again, he hadn’t realized he wasn’t looking at her while he rambled, terrified to see the rejection on her face. But that wasn’t rejection. Yes, he realized, wasn’t a word that meant rejection.

“You said yes,” he murmured.

“Did you honestly think I would say no?”

It was silent again. Like time suspended once more, he tried to remember if time was necessary to breathe. If there was something he was supposed to do or say. It took him that moment to realize he was memorizing every detail. Every skin cell on her pretty face, the way the air smelled, how the chill from the fridge was giving him goosebumps.

Without noticing it happened, he was standing. Harry’s face was in her neck, his arms around her waist and his nose inhaling her sweet scent. His eyes watered and he swallowed hard as he shook his head against her skin. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, Harry,” she giggled, teary as well. Her arms around him just as tightly and she kissed the side of his head buried in her neck.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed in her embrace, but she didn’t rush him. Eventually he pulled away from her. He grabbed the ring out of its cushion, dropping the little box to the floor beside her bobby pin, and slipped it on her fourth finger. She looked at it briefly. She had seen a diamond on that finger before but looking at this one now, the other one looked terrible in comparison. It wasn’t right.

This was right.

“I have t’take it back,” he whispered.

She smiled and nodded. “I know.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again.”

“Can’t believe you thought I would say no,” she giggled.

He rolled his eyes. “You are so perfect, kitten. M’so in love with you. If something isn’t perfect for you...” he shook his head. “You deserve perfect.”

“I hope you know,” she wiggled her ring finger in front of his eyes. “That means you,” she promised.

This relieved, happy expression crossed his face and he felt so overwhelmed with happiness that he thought he would cry. “How much time do we have before we need t'leave?” He murmured to himself looking at the stove clock.

“Forever,” she shook her head with a smile. Cupped his face and leaned in for his sweet, pink lips. “We have all the time in the world.”

--

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#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles blurbs #harry styles imagines #harry styles x y/n #one direction #one direction writing #time

[loves1ckgirl]

Denki Kaminari with an online best friend

Denki x American! reader

Online friends + maybe romantic-ish

Note, I have no idea how to write in the grammar of someone learning English so I’m just avoiding contractions and using a bit of chat gtp to make the sentence to be a little more incorrect lol.

He initially met you while playing a FPS at 3am

The game between you and both was mostly silent aside from some English and Japanese cursing, Denki understood some what you said

You however; did not understand him, but assumed he was expressing the same frustration and wasn’t just getting upset at you

After your first game was played, he had sent you a few emojis and a little english

The game you had been playing along side some random from Japan had gone surprisingly well. It was such a bad game for the loser you wondered if it was because they were absolute garbage or all of a sudden you became a gaming god. As you leaned back in your chair and attempted to fix the knot that formed in your back from hunching, you looked back at your computer screen. There you see a friend and message request.

Kaminarieki

“You are good at playing. Can we play more?”

As you read the message, you decide to respond and pray he wasn’t some 30 year old incel. After all, you were bored, and a bit lonely.

After that first interaction, you would go on to play with him often

However, neither of you talked very often especially after you came to the conclusion you didn’t speak the same language

In the end, there were still some short convos

Kaminari liked these, as he thought you were cool

The fact that UA English classes were more rigorous helped him in talking to you (a hero needed to communicate with a large variety of people)

A couple of months in, he was struggling with his classes exponentially, and no amount of help by his friends would help him,

He then thought it was a good idea to message you and explain that he thought it would be nice to talk and learn through a fluent speaker instead

Kaminarieki

“Can we talk a lot I am learning English I think your cool.”

“I’m down. It’s late now though. I have school is tomorrow okay? Also, the your should be you’re”

Kaminari sends a cute little heart emoji,

“Yes. Thank you.”

For awhile, you’d avoid many abbreviations and some complex Slang

Eventually Kaminari had gotten more advanced and you spoke more casually

After exchanging Instagram and other accounts, instead of mostly talking as you guys played, it started during school and random times of day

The time difference didn’t mean much since the both of you had terrible sleep schedules

(Although, he was a bit more regular due to his hero school)

As you talked to him you obviously found more of his personality and it had become more endearing tbh

He’d most definitely google English pick up lines

Eventually as his friends noticed his behavior and how if he’d planned to play with you he’d decline

Also how he’d be texting more than before (mostly on his Sundays and Monday’s as you’d be awake the longest when he was.)

Lowkey hates the time difference tbh.

Anyway, as his friends noticed him typing away on those two days in particular they’d begun to ask questions about who he was texting

“My friend.” He’d say, looking up from the phone for a second before continuing the text. Mina had begun even more curious than previously.

“Whaaa? Friend? Who?” She asks, leaning over the couch and Kaminari’s shoulder. She sees joke flirty messages that he sends and receives.

He ended up telling them about you and explains that’s why his English grade was getting better

Anywayyy he’s overall super cute with you

Basically just being himself

If you ever wanted to learn Japanese he’d 100% do his best to help you enthusiastically

He tries his best to keep you updated since it’s its hard to talk to you regularly

#denki kaminari #mha hcs #mha #my hero academia #denki x reader #bnha denki #denki headcanons #denki x y/n #denki fluff #kaminari x reader #bnha kaminari #kaminari x y/n #kaminari x you #kaminari fluff #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero academia #bhna #bhna imagine #bhna x reader

[swiss-mrs]

EDDIE MUNSON X SINCLAIR!READER

just me rambling on again about how Eddie loves a black woman from infinity to infinityyyy

there's a 'face claim' under the cut because i said so. you've been warned

okay, listen here.

Ever since your family moved to Hawkins, life has been... different

You just turned 13 when your family uprooted to the small town in Indiana. Lucas was 10, and Erica was only 6.

It was a bit easier for your younger siblings to adjust, but you had to start fresh during your last year of middle school, going into high school. That sucked like a bitch.

Transitioning from a larger city with a decent mix of races to a predominantly white town was about as smooth as it sounded, not at all.

Though racism was not terrible, there were plenty of backhanded compliments, passive aggressiveness, and snarky comments.

You were always so "well-spoken", "well-mannered", "presentable".

You didn't "sound black".

You didn't "act black".

You were "pretty for a black girl."

Whatever the fuck that means.

You knew that begging your parents to move elsewhere was not an option, waste of time, so you always knew that the moment you had the chance, you weren't gonna stick around for too long.

Going into high school at the end of '82, just shy of a year after moving into Hawkins, was how yours and Eddie's paths crossed, just barely.

Since you could practically count on one hand how many black families were in Hawkins's population, not knowing one another by name was near impossible.

You know Jeff by proxy.

Your parents knew each other, and you were the same age, so of course you knew each other.

You wouldn't call him a friend per se, but you were friendly enough to exchange quick greetings in passing.

Jeff was with three older kids when you passed him in the hall.

A chubby, curly haired, white boy, a pale brunette girl, and a slim, lanky kid who looked like he was trying to grow out a bad haircut, all of which were decked out in jean and leather.

The polite smile and wave he gave made the lanky boy to turn and see who Jeff was waving at.

As soon as you caught each other's eyes, his curious expression turned into a lovestruck one.

You didn't pay much attention to it, though.

"Who is that?"

"Oh, no one. She's just the daughter of some friends of my parents."

Since you were in separate grades, you didn't regularly cross paths with any of the people you saw with Jeff often, but you did end up having an elective class with the brunette girl.

It was a couple of weeks in when you were partnered up with her for a project.

"Veronica is my government name. Call me Ronnie."

During lunch, Ronnie mentioned to Jeff how adorable you were.

"You got to meet her?!"

Ronnie would then go on about how you were so nice and polite, but you were also extremely smart and sassy.

She got to witness your wit first hand when you made a sneaky comeback at someone who gave one of those stupid 'for a black girl' comments.

"I think Eddie is going to blow a fuse."

"You got to meet HER?!"

The boy was starstruck every time you would unknowingly pass him in the hall or when he saw you from across the cafeteria.

"Would you just go up and talk to her, numbnuts?" Ronnie would say as she smacked the back of his head when she caught him staring a bit too hard.

"I can't just 'go up' to her!"

"The fuck not?"

He'd reply with silence, not really knowing what answer to give.

You were too good for him? He'd have no chance? You'd dismiss him? Reject him? What would he even say?

"I wouldn't know what to say..."

"Maybe try, 'Hello'."

He spent the next four years pining over you from a distance.

Now, in your senior year, you were more excited than anything to get out of this shit hole.

The cute super super senior with the loud mouth, long hair, and less than stellar reputation had always caught your eye, but you both still had yet to actually say anything to each other. Paths never crossing further than beyond the hallway.

You never bothered to make a move on him.

You were convinced that you weren't his type, or anyone's type for that matter, especially not here.

But you're both seniors now.

Much to Eddie's surprise and delight, you now had classes together.

He never once liked being in high school for longer than necessary, but here he was, oddly thankful for being held back.

Your schedules are almost completely aligned, save for the fact that you had a couple honors classes.

For the first few days of your senior year, Eddie was a ball of anxiety every time you were around.

He sat either behind or beside you in the back of all your shared classes.

It wasn't until one fateful Tuesday, in the second week of that school year, that your pen ran out of ink, and you finally said your first words to him.

"Hey, do you have a pen I can barrow?"

You were turned around in your seat to look at him behind you. He was stuck for a few beats before he blinked away his shock.

"Uh, y-yeah. Here." He handed you the very pen he was using to doodle in his notebook instead of actually taking notes.

The small smile and the gentle brush of your fingers against his nearly made his heart stop on the spot.

He was absolutely gone.

It was in that moment that he realized he'd never properly heard your voice before.

He wanted to hear it again.

You even remembered/bothered to give him his pen back at the end of that class.

He spent every single one of his classes for the remainder of that day coming up with a full ass tactical plan to approach you.

Every day that passed, he for some fucking reason just couldn't find the right moment to put his plan in action.

It wasn't until a few weeks later when you threw his plan through a loop.

You showed up to a Hellfire meet just as they were all leaving out the drama room.

He heard your voice coming from outside once some of the freshman members walked out the door.

"Hey, Baby Bro! How'd it go? Have fun?"

Eddie eyes widened, and he stilled for a second before he dropped what he was doing to rush out the door.

He tried to play off his stumbling by leaning against the wall right outside the door.

"Oh, Hey! You're in this club too?"

"This is Eddie. He leads the club." Your little brother's curly haired friend, Dustin, clarified immediately.

Before Eddie could give Dustin a look to 'shut the fuck up before he ruined his shot', you raised your brows with somewhat of an impressed look on your face.

"Oh, so you're Eddie."

The way his name rolls off your tongue makes him want to melt into the floor.

All the false confidence he once had completely depleted, and he was back at a loss for words. Thank God you didn't leave room for him to make a fool of himself.

"The boys talk so highly of you. Thank you for looking after them for a couple hours after school. See you tomorrow!"

He watched, awestruck, as you walked away with your brother and his friends.

"Y-Yeah, no problem!" He'd finally yell after you a you made it to the exit doors.

You turned to wave bye before fully exiting the building to the mostly vacant parking lot.

Eddie waved back weakly.

"See you tomorrow." He says to himself in the empty hallway, still waving even after you couldn't see him anymore.

A cheesy grin would grow on his face as he went back into the drama room to collect his DM stuff.

"Holy shit. You actually exchanged words!" Jeff would say.

"~See you tomorrow~" Gareth mocks, clasping his hands together, resting them on his cheek and batting his eyelashes.

Eddie glares at the younger drummer. "Shut up, asshole."

Early October is when he finally leaned forward to ask you a question.

"Hey, I don't really understand what's going on. Could you help me?"

There it was.

You accepted, falling right into his hands.

His plan was now officially in motion.

You were smart and nice. Of course, you would help tutor him.

Eddie knew that would work.

You were well aware of his academic status, or rather lack thereof.

You couldn't help but let that little 'I can fix him' part of your teenage brain take over.

You really wanted to help him pass and graduate, ESPECIALLY since he reached out to you for help.

You couldn't say no. wtf

You two had spent all of October studying together.

Even though he was distracted by you most of the time and always going off topic to get to know you, he actually was kind of learning something.

A win-win for him.

"Hey, so, uh, you know, Halloween is right around the corner, and, uh, there's a special rescreening of 'Alien' this weekend. Would you, uh, you know, if you're into it, would you like to go see- watch it, like, with me, I mean?"

The question came at the end of your recent study/tutoring session.

Over the last few weeks, you had shown nothing but kindness towards Eddie. You two even had conversations with one another out in the open, outside of the safe privacy of the library.

He finally had the courage to ask you out.

You hesitated.

"Oh, uh..."

Your apprehension was not for the reason he was thinking, but it was enough for his mind to start caving in on itself.

"I mean, I just want to show you my appreciation, you know, for all your help. There's no- no pressure at all. I get it if you don't wanna be seen with me too much. I won't blame you."

His response takes you aback.

"Hold on. That's not what I was trying to get across at all."

Your firm tone made his chest tighten with anxiety. If that wasn't it, what was it? Did you have plans already? Maybe with a boyfriend? Shit, why didn't Eddie make sure to get your current relationship status out of you before asking.

"It's just that, uh, I'm kind of a... wuss... with scary movies. The sci-fi part of it seems intriguing enough, but I heard that it was pretty scary... The Boys snuck the VHS during one of their movie nights a couple years ago. I just remember Lucas being on edge for weeks after watching it." You chuckled nervously.

Eddie chuckles, relieved by your answer.

"Don't worry about it. I'll be there to protect you from all the monsters." The use of his DM voice at the end goes straight to the pit of your stomach like hot coals.

You hold back a girlish giggle, not wanting to show how much that effected you.

"Okay, fine, but if I fail our test due to a lack of sleep, I'm blaming you."

After you agree to go on a date with him, he fully unleashes his inner flirt.

His surprising change in attitude towards you makes butterflies erupt within you.

His overt flirting brings out your sassy side as you two go back and forth.

That movie-dinner date was the first of many.

Eddie wasn't huge on physical PDA.

He was always super respectful and reserved in public, but he almost always made a show of you.

"There she is! The most beautiful woman to ever exist!"

"Look at her. A goddess among us mortals!"

"Here she comes! Make way for the queen!"

You eventually got used to his over the top antics, going from telling his to "shut up" with a shy grin to just embracing your new 'royalty status' with your head held high and a bright smile.

You'd been dating for months.

Your tutoring actually helped raise Eddie's grades, especially after you told him how much you wanted him to graduate with you this year.

Come spring, Lucas is now unsuccessfully splitting his time between Hellfire and basketball.

When Dustin and Mike bring in the third Sinclair into the drama room, Eddie can't help but cave quickly once she shows off her dnd knowledge.

Erica definitely gets her sass from you, though she's a lot more blunt with it.

Eddie can't help but form a huge soft spot for her, even after the game is over.

While Erica, Dustin, and Mike were waiting in your car to leave, Eddie stopped you.

"So, you know, we've been dating for quite a while now-"

"Five months and counting." You beamed.

Eddie grinned happily. So, you were keeping count.

"Yeah, soon enough it'll be six, then seven, then ten, then 12, then-"

"OK, OK" you giggled. Eddie's smile only got bigger.

"So, I was wondering..." That shy boy who could barely ask you on a first date returns, bringing a soft grin to your face. "Do you... Would do... I... Will you be my... my girlfriend?"

"Of course." You smiled without missing a beat.

"Really?!"

As the news sunk deeper and deeper, it became harder and harder for him to physically contain his excitement.

He jumped up and down, grabbing you by the shoulders to pull you into a hug, bouncing up and down with you in his arms.

Your shared laughter filled the empty parking lot of Hawkins High.

From that moment on, the word 'girlfriend' was used in place of your own name for months.

"I'm convinced you've forgotten my name."

"I could never forget such a thing, girlfriend~"

He introduced you to metal music.

You introduced him to leave in conditioner.

You two were high school sweethearts, ones that would last forever.

🥹🥹🥹

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x sinclair!reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #x black!reader #eddie munson swiss fics

[ask-the-prose]

The Self-Doubt Battle

Hi all, this week's guide is about imposter syndrome and self-doubt! This is a pretty personal subject for me because I struggle with this all the time, so I thought I'd write up a little guide for those of you who do too.

What is Imposter Syndrome?

Imposter Syndrome is a pattern of self-doubt that people (especially high achievers) feel. This pattern of self-doubt usually presents as a feeling that one is an imposter or that their achievements are due to falsehoods or faking competency. It is important to understand that Imposter Syndrome is not a clinical term and does not constitute an actual mental health condition. This is a phenomenon that occurs when people doubt themselves so thoroughly that they fear that others will view them as a fraud.

As previously stated, Imposter Syndrome is not a mental health condition that one suffers from, but instead, it is a pattern of thinking that can be overcome. If you find that this feeling is familiar to you, don't lose hope. This is not a permanent feeling, and it is not indicative of any moral or personal failing.

How do I rebuild my confidence?

This portion of the guide may sound familiar! Some of the things that work for burnout will also help rebuild your confidence and battle those persistent feelings of self-doubt. In fact, I find that self-doubt and burnout can very often go hand in hand. If you're feeling like an imposter or that you can't achieve what you want to, look really closely, talk it out with a friend, family member, or therapist, and see if maybe you're feeling burnt out instead. You might find that your self-doubt is actually exhaustion.

Let's start with self-care! It's hard to feel good about yourself when you just plain don't feel good. Self-care can help with that. It's easy to get lost among the scented candles and bubble baths, but self-care is actually much simpler than that. Have you eaten recently and regularly? Are you thirsty? Are you tired and need some sleep? Be sure to take care of your basic needs before making any judgments about yourself and your capabilities. You may find that once you feel physically better, you will feel more equipped to handle external challenges.

Is self-care not working? I consulted a couple of mental health professionals on how to combat feelings of self-doubt and inadequacy. Some of their tips included finding a source of validation or confidence boosting. It may seem like a bad thing, like fishing for compliments, but we, as human beings, crave and need validation from our peers. We're social animals! There is nothing wrong with wanting someone to say "good job" every now and then. A list of things that might help you get those moments of validation:

Is there something you know you're good at? Do a little of that! If that means drawing or dancing or sorting crayons, it doesn't matter as long as you feel good doing it.

Chat with a friend about your feelings, and you might find they feel the same way! If all of us feel that self-doubt, then maybe we're all wrong. We can't all be imposters, so look for that support and take comfort in knowing that you are not the odd one out.

Self-affirmation. This seems silly, and it's a common therapy tool, but it does work. Say to yourself what you want to believe about yourself, and eventually, you will. One self-affirmation that helps me with Imposter Syndrome and self-doubt: my achievements are real achievements. It's important to remind yourself that not only did you achieve something cool but that you did so because you are capable and not because you are fake. I'll let you in on a little secret; you can't fake success.

My final trick that may seem controversial: just ask. Everyone has felt self-doubt at one point or another. Find someone you trust and simply ask for validation. Your request can sound something like this: "I've been feeling down about my own capabilities recently. I trust you and your opinion and I was hoping you could give me some encouragement to keep going." I've found that writeblr is actually a GREAT place to find encouragement.

Rebuilding your confidence is a very personal task, and what works for one person won't always work for the next. For some people, the self-doubt goes away with a little work. For others, self-doubt can be persistent. Persistent, extreme feelings of self-doubt that result in depressive episodes or anxiety attacks may be symptoms of a larger mental health issue, and if these tips and tricks consistently fail, consider reaching out to a professional who can help you with the underlying cause of these negative feelings.

What about "fake it until you make it?"

"Fake it until you make it" is a common phrase used to encourage others with confidence issues, especially those of us who are younger or newer to an industry, craft, or hobby. In my personal experience, the usefulness of this phrase ebbs and flows with my own sense of self and my attitude toward my writing. This phrase can easily become misconstrued when a writer feels self-doubt. The purpose of this phrase is not to say that we are all imposters but that we can project confidence to others that we may not necessarily feel inside. That doesn't make you a phony. It helps you build yourself up.

Sometimes, this phrase is not so helpful. It's important to recognize that what we are faking is confidence, not competence. It is next to impossible to fake your own capabilities, but you can certainly fake a positive attitude. "Faking it" does not refer to faking success. It refers to faking unerring confidence and belief in oneself. "Making it" is about genuinely believing in yourself. You can "make it" to self-assured confidence by "faking" that confidence you want to have. In some ways, it's like a positive self-affirmation.

Conclusion

I'll repeat it here: you cannot fake success. Your achievements are real, your successes are real, and though sometimes it feels like luck, it was your skills that helped you reach your goals. Whether you believe in your skills or not, luck can only get you so far, you got yourself the rest of the way. Take pride in yourself, and remember, this feeling will pass.

– Indy

#writer problems #writing tips #writing advice #writing resources #writing help #writblr #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writing guide #imposter syndrome #self doubt #writing #on writing #amwriting #writeblr

[thoughtsofdarc]

'Go powder my nose'

-Warnings: none

-Y/n, Ghost, Soap, and maybe Gaz? Friends

-i spend say too much time on Tiktok.

I now have a slight mask kink and I'm going feral for Ghost and König. Fuck my life, right? This is what came of it.

The group, 3 men and one woman, was sitting by a table in the back of the bar.

Far away to not draw too much attention, but able to scan the location and we who enters and leaves.

Side effect of the life they're living. Even on their days off they are still on guard.

Soldiers.

Though they weren't in uniform, it's evident in the way they hold themselves.

They needed the time off. The bar was regularly visited by the soldiers from the base. It was known to be the place to go.

Which also meant that people, mostly women, came to the bar to see if they could hook to with a handsome soldier for the night...

They usually could.

But tonight, the 3 men and the woman wasn't there to find a hookup. They just needed to rewind from a mission. Just needed to throw back a couple of beers, before they went back to sleep for a day or two.

"Im gonna go take a piss.."

The woman stood, from her seat, pulling down the fitted shirt, making sure she didn't show any unwanted skin, to the other men visiting the bar. She didn't care for unwanted attention tody.

"Fuck sake, y/n You're a lass, ya shouldn't talk like that"

Soaps grin told that he didn't really care, he was just talking friendly shit.

The two other men grunted out small laughs.

The man, with the skull mask pulled up to his nose, leaving room for him to drink, lips curled up in a lopsided smirk.

Though he wasn't the most vocal of the group, he enjoyed the friendly banter.

Y/n weighed the consequences of saying out loud, the first thought she had. Of the only thing about her being a 'lass' was the vibrator in her room on base.

But she bit it back, knowing that Soap would never let he live it down, it he knew about it.

Instead she shot out her hip, pretended she wore a dress and dipped her hips to take a bow. With a fake posh upper class accent she looked at Soap and said "Excuse me Gentlemen, I have to go powder my nose"

"oh piss off y/n!" Soap flipped her off, in all friendliness of course.

"That's what I fucking tried to do, but you complained about that too!" she shot back, causing everybody to laugh.

"Just go y/n, or he'll complain all night" the man with the skull mask, Ghost, ushered her to go take care of her business.

"Oi, you piss off too, mate" Soap scoffed, but there was a little smirk playing on his lips.

Y/n laughed and walked away.

Not many minutes went by, from y/n leaving the table, before a woman approached the 3 men left there.

She was a bit more than tipsy, dressed up to catch attention and the look she had in her eyes, was set on Ghost.

"Hello boys, what are you doing out on this fine evening" she purred, as she sat down on the empty chair that y/n left.

She made sure to shoot out her chest, making her boob's bigger.

The woman adressed the all, but her eyes were fixed on Ghost.

Y/n approached slowly, the woman trying to flirt with the skull masked man hadn't seen her. She stood back, watching the interaction silently.

"Sorry, not interested, darling" his British accent rolled of his lips, which held a small smirk. He shook his head, fixing his eyes on the beer instead of looking at the woman.

"Oh come on sweetheart... I dig the whole mask thing. You can keep it on..."

She purred, the silent promise of she wanted from Ghost, thick in the air.

"listen to the man, lass... He has a Girlfriend" Soap tried to get her off the masked man's back, when he noticed the irritation in Ghost's eyes.

Neither of the men around the table had a steady woman in their life.

But girl code, right? If the man was taken, the unwanted attention would back off... Right?

Wrong. The woman gave Soap the side eye and then turned her focus back in Ghost.

She let her fingers trail up his arm, her eyes fixed on his mask.

Ghost tensed, but kept calm as to not cause a scene. Though, very ready to catch har wrist, before the hand reached his mask.

"well, I don't see her..." The woman purred, as if it would make him want her advances more.

Y/n stepped closer to the table, right behind the woman's chair.

"Turn around...!" she barked, her voice full of authority and anger, causing the woman to jump in her seat, letting go of Ghost's arm.

The woman slowly turned and looked at y/n from her boots to her hair, taking in the woman standing begkre her and glared daggers.

"...Now you see her!" y/n's voice was laced with a poisonous anger, and the woman just silently slipped away.

The 3 men looked at y/n with wide eyes, smirks playing on all of their faces.

"Now, where were we?" y/n sat down, as if nothing had happened, and took a large gulp of her beer, as she looked around the table to her 3 friends.

Ghost gave her a subtle nod as a thank you.

"I don't know what the other two are doing, but lass, you just gave me something to dream about tonight... That was hot" Soap chuckled jokingly.

"Oh piss off, Soap!" y/n rolled her eyes, but couldn't hold back a grin.

Soap smirked

"No no! I just learned it's called 'to go powder my nose'!"

#Ghost #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghostsoap #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #john soap mactavish #Soap #soap cod

[writingsforwinter]

Lost a 3 year friendship today with a good male friend. I'm angry, hurt, and shocked.

3 years ago we met through Bumble and went on 2 dates. I knew very early on I wasn't interested, and politely turned him down but suggested friendship as an option, which he took. 3 years later, and we talk regularly and also hang out, mostly just chilling and cooking new recipes together and catching up. Never a hint of anything romantic in 3 years.

I moved to another state for 2 of those 3 years and just got back last weekend. We hung out at his apartment like usual, catching up and having sushi, and a couple times he kept trying to put his arm around me and like basically hold me, which has never happened before and made me feel weird. At the end he asked me out, and I didn't realize til afterward so today I messaged him and explained and then reiterated I value our friendship, don't see him that way, and want to remain friends.

The message I get in return is that apparently we "had flirty interactions" (??? him putting his arm around me without asking multiple times???), I "left early and it threw him off" (I left right when I said I would) otherwise "his innuendo would have been more direct" and "he thought he could manage his feelings for me in a purely platonic space but he can't" and we "shouldn't hang out again."

I'm angry. I have a lot of respect for people who realize their feelings towards a friend and end the friendship when they know they can't just be friends, for both parties' sake. But now I find out he was still sitting on these feelings for 3 years and decided to shoot his shot - again - after already being turned down, KNOWING I am not interested in him that way. And then to be accused of being flirty for....what....HIM putting his arm around me repeatedly without consent?

We had a fantastic catch-up, just like we do every time we hang out, and I was so excited to be back in my old state with my old friends. And now I've lost a 3 year friendship right off the bat because someone couldn't accept that a no is a no.

Maybe I'm overreacting but I'm really hurt. And I know for a fact nothing I have said or done in the past 3 years has ever indicated I've changed my mind. Nothing about our friendship for the past 3 years after turning him down has been anything other than platonic. I just am in shock.

[not-another-robin]

Miscellaneous Alfred Pennyworth headcanons because he is immortal and you can't tell me otherwise

Alfred HATES musicals. Hates them. Especially Broadway, do not get him started on Andrew Lloyd Webber. He has a vendetta against the man not only because he thinks mega musicals are cheap schlock, but also for RUINING his son for a good 4 months after Phantom of the Opera came out. That shit was Bruce's MCR. he's skulking through the manner in a blanket cape with dark eyeliner playing the title song at deafening volume. Harvey enables him for months just to get on Alfred's nerves. Besides that, the batfam insists he doesn't like musicals as a genre because he can't sing. They are correct.

In my heart of hearts, Alfred was the OG 'finders keepers applies to wayward children'. When Bruce started working with other heros Alfred started checking in on them regularly, especially the ones who were far from home or lost their families. It's not uncommon to see Hawkgirl or Diana or J'onn at the manor when they're feeling homesick.

If a league member has at least one parent that's able to be contacted, said parent is invited to monthly get togethers with the rest of the league parents. They have a little club to talk about their kids. Okay it's more of a support group

If someone needs to be looked after due to sickness or injury and the league can't spare a team mate to do it, they're brought to the manor. Its no secret that most hope for this outcome.

It's a running joke that everyone, everyone gives Alfred a gift on fathers day.

One such Father's day the teen titans made "if lost return to Alfred Pennyworth" shirts for every batfriend (somewhere around 20+ people when alls said and done). They have a big group photo with them all, Alfred in the middle with a shirt that says "keep them".

Alfred watches soap operas regularly, and has seen every episode of Dynasty to date. Where he finds the time nobody knows, but he is knowledgeable on all the TV drama within the shows and behind the scenes. He has pretty ecclectic taste too, given he speaks a couple languages.

One time, while deliriously sick, Jason found him watching The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. All of the batkids insist this was some fever induced hallucination. They are wrong.

Alfred is a world class pot stirrer. There is so little of substance at the myriad of galas he has to attend that he makes his own fun, sue him. It's a leftover pass time from Martha's days - people were objectively cruel to her and gossipped at her expense often, so she returned it in kind. She was truly a legend in this regard and Alfred was her right hand man. They were experts at sewing seeds of doubt with a single comment ("Oh I'm so sorry sir, I assumed the woman over there was your wife") and watch the world burn, wine in hand. He missed having a partner in crime in that regard - eventually, Jason and Steph fill that role.

Bruce and Alfred have been locked in a decades long battle for Bruce's posture. He will go into shrimp position if given any opening and Alfred is determined to not let that happen. Idk if anyone else's parents did this, but Alfred is absolutely the type of parent to poke/push the small of your back until you sit up straight. He also does this for every batkid, even unofficial ones. Tragically it is too late for Tim.

Both Alfred and Bruce are fond of pen pals, though Alfred kept his up for much longer. He writes letters to his few friends back in England, to the Kents, various heros, he even manages to get mail to Themyscira.

To anyone under the age of fifty (excluding Bruce, maybe) his natural handwriting is completely illegible. Peak old person cursive, it is supernatural how his friends manage to read it. He writes very neat and very small, with very little space in between the lines. Its nightmarish. He does know how to write legibly for the sake of the kids, but his personal notes are practically in code.

Okay this one's a little out there - Alfred's posh accent isn't his natural one. It's natural now, since he's been using it so long, but growing up him and his family spoke in a more country/cockney accent - except for his mom, who had the more posh recieved pronunciation one. I've rewritten Alfred's entire backstory so bear with me She was the head housekeeper for a wealthy family, and she came from a more 'refined' area, so she carried herself with the more stereotypical fancy British manners. Alfred loved his mom, looked up to her more than anything in the world, so he adopted her mannerisms (and accent) whenever he could. He was teased mercilessly for it as a kid, so he stopped, but once he left home to join the military he fully adopted the persona to distance himself from his father and brother. The only time the original accent would slip through was when he was really, blindingly angry or upset, and only Bruce and Dick have ever heard it.

He has a flat within the manor, like a little apartment for his own space. It's initially sparsely decorated, but over the years it accumulates a borderline absurd amount of photos. Some of them are of him, mostly military friends, him with Martha and Thomas, or souvenirs from his theater days. The vast majority are his kids though. Pictures of Bruce from every stage of his life of course (the kids have a field day when they find them) and a smattering of pictures Bruce has drawn for him over the years, from crayon scribbles to charcoal portraits. The halls are lined with photos of the grandbats, many big milestones but also personal ones caught on candid camera: the first time Damian smiled while being hugged, Cassandra and Bruce playing bridge, Dick and Jason asleep after their first mission. On the wall at the end of the hallway hangs the old family portrait - Martha, Thomas, 6 year old Bruce, and him. Though he's not particularly spiritual, it's placement makes him feel like Martha and Thomas can see how their family has grown.

#batman #dc comics #narsposting #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #batfam #batfamily #headcanons #i have. so many thoughts about this family so if this gets literally any feedback I'm doing it again #also if you wanna hear my entirely rewritten alfred backstory woof we'll be here all night but id still love to attempt explaining it ascrb

[kingofthering]

thinking about your beautiful rosquez fake dating au.... is it a public thing? like are they the motogp royal couple here (INSANE time to be in the paddock lol. and oh GOD the breakup) or is it strictly a performance for their friends/family? (also insane for marc specifically. that man cannot lie to alex ever change my mind) like i cant stop thinking about it...

I was thinking performance for their friends and family but with a couple of things to consider [because I never make my life easy, do I]:

my considerations of this kind of depends of the span of the fic and how long they are pretending before going into the actually dating phase [I think Valentino probably freaks out (mostly because of what Marc said) after that first time they sleep together and then putting it short : he ghosts Marc, Marc confronts him and they start hooking up regularly and then there is another big family thing (maybe Christmas if the fic started in the summer) and Valentino forgot he was supposed to fake break up with Marc at some point and anyway, they figure their shit out, the end] [divorce still happens in 2015, see you in 2024 for the reconciliation]

but in the grand scheme of things, they're only doing this to trick Valentino's mom (and like, all the aunts and uncles and everyone that gets involved after the dinner and the baby shower) (oops, things are getting out of hand, it's fine Valentino, it's fine) so that's the only thing they both have in mind when dealing with the secret

now, who was present at the ranch that summer to hear about this? probably the Academy kids that were all in either Moto2 or Moto3 at the time — do they really have to interact with Valentino's family and eventually lie to them? eh, I'd say it's a possibility, and does Valentino trust those teenagers to lie for him? absolutely not, does he trust them to keep their mouth shut about his relationship with Marc if he sat them down and told them it was important? yes, much more (and like, who would believe them in the paddock anyway, him and Marc together? please)

I think Luca can be the big joker/question mark here, on the one hand Valentino would feel shitty making Luca lie to his mom but on the other end Valentino feels shitty lying to Luca, so, 50/50 on that one for now

which means, that in my mind, Marc doesn't even have to bother about his side of the family, I fully agree with you that that man cannot lie to his brother and honestly, he would probably already spill the bean when his stay at the ranch gets extended and Marc asks him why on the phone

technically, could Valentino's mom talk to Marc's parents and fuck things up? I suppose, if I want to make my life annoying, that it could be a possibility, but I don't think Valentino's mom was in the paddock often so I'm just gonna eliminate that issue for this one universe [and like, could she have their number? also yes maybe in a universe that would be annoying to me]

in the grand scheme of things, Marc is agreeing to this 10% to help Valentino and 90% for personal selfish reasons and because in theory, this doesn't have any real flaw/annoyance for him, right? — do I think that he would have felt comfortable lying to his parents? absolutely not, I do think that would be quite interesting to explore in fic but again, making my life easy here [the whole "Valentino can put on a performance act while Marc is an open book to people who know him" of it all]

Now, to come back to that first option, the first thing that came to mind was a forced to come out scenario, especially if it happens because of leaked photos of them hooking up when having hate sex in say, 2016. Way angstier in the beginning but then it's indeed "what an insane time to be in the paddock" in a good way after they've fixed things.

[admittedly I don't always see how going the "yes we're gay but we're in love" way is better PR management than "our private lives should have never been hindered, that's all we have to stay about the matter" but, you know, fic purposes]

I think it could actually bring quite a different aspect to their dynamic in that scenario because if this is 2016, Valentino is 37 (9 titles and could technically retire with a long well-done career) and Marc is 23 (4 titles, still an immense way to go in his career and so much potential to explore).

Of course the whole thing affects Valentino but he honestly believes he can survive that whatever way and ignore the bad people and focus on keeping the same life, he'll be fine. Marc will say that he's not affected by what people say about him (and only on track things matter) but I don't think it's that easy, especially back then, especially after all the backlash he got post-Sepang, and when he puts his own 2015 anger aside, I think Valentino can recognize that as well.

It's Valentino looking at Marc seating next to him in the Yamaha/Honda (whichever) motorhome, watching the way Marc's knee keep bouncing at lightning speed, the lines of his face harsh, his eyes pointed on a far point on the wall. It's Valentino shutting his brain down and going "Yes, we'll do that, where do we start".

#rpf #4693 #marc marquez #valentino rossi #fake dating rosquez #oops I created a second AU at the same time my bad................. #this is a very simplified version of things #(as we've seen way too recently with fabio's insta post there is still a long way too go with homophobia and motoGP) #(but as it always is : beauty of fits universes etc etc) #thank you for the ask sorry for the way too long answer #I go into details way too much sometimes #forced coming out au

[ashipiko]

Niko, does he cuss? Like regularly or not at all? I feel like with him, it's always all or nothing

Does he get along with Ace or are they mortal enemies? They are very similar in terms of personality

They like to flirt and tease their friends, both are trouble makers (Ace gets into fight and Niko is literally lying to everyone because if he doesn't he gets expelled)

I feel like either they're besties or they hate each other because "agh. What a smug jerk. Who does he think he is? Acting like that"

Also

Is he Asexual? He gives off Ace vibes, at least to me. He's very neat and I like to project on characters I like (I am Asexual)

“Me? Cuss? I would never use such strong words…! I think there’s other ways you can express yourself, you know?

Trappola, right? I’ve seen him around the prefect before. Talked to him a couple of times too, but hey, who haven’t I talked to? People lump me around with him sometimes, but I think Cater, the third year from his dorm matches me a little more. It’s the green eyes and ginger hair, obviously! Nothing else~

Hmm, but… I think Ace is a pretty interesting guy. I have no problem with him, but he doesn’t like me around at times. Wonder why. He has potential, though. A little too brash to be my business partner, though… Maybe next year!”

#for the asexual question tbh I haven’t really thought about that stuff for niko? #so it’s all up in the air 🫶 #TYSM FOR THE ASK THO!!! lots of questions it made me super happy to get #niko cimarron #twst oc