#the worse though is when i know i've written about it but i can't dig up the link

[always-andromeda]

May i order a strawberry cream for eddie munson? 🍓💋

– 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: goodness, it has been a HOT MINUTE since I've written anything for our favorite metalhead but I actually kind of liked it! thanks for this one, anon!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: drug usage, 100% fluff, nothing else I can think of!

With every day that passes, Eddie is sure that he's going to end up losing his mind. How dare you sit there looking so gorgeous, so bright, so...ugh, he can't start thinking that way. Like he's twelve years old again, he gets this full body cringe at the idea of having feelings like that.

But it's true. Every day in class, at lunch, during Hellfire Club meetings, and after school he finds himself tied up in knots, so full of pressure that he's constantly seconds away from bursting at the seams. And of course there's all the little moments in between the big ones.

Like the one where you sit cross legged on his bed cross from him. Your laughter fills his brain in the hours after school. You stay so late into the evening that you're barely minutes off from when his uncle gets home from his shift.

There's those few seconds after you take the joint he'd just rolled. He watches your lips wrap around the paper, then watches how your chest moves when you inhale and exhale the clouds of smoke. Though the dancing wisps usually leave him mesmerized, his gaze is locked on your lips.

The soft euphoria of the weed has already begun to numb his reflexes and he looks away too slow when you finally look back up at him. You smile teasingly and ask, "Whatcha' lookin' at, dork?"

Eddie chuckles weakly. "Just lookin' at how weak that puff was. Is my shit that good that you're afraid of it?"

"Weak?" you exclaim. "Fine, if that was weak, then why don't you show me how to smoke it, huh?"

"Oh, I'll show you how you smoke, alright," he replies haughtily. Eddie goes through the same motions; the ones he's become so familiar with in the years since he started dealing. He knows how to do this. But you throw him off so much that he fucks it up.

Eddie Munson takes too deep of a breath and the smoke burns. Burns like it hasn't in way too long of a time. And he coughs so terribly that within seconds, it's like the bravado of his sick tattoos, wild hair, and the chains and jewelry all fade away.

But you're laughing. He wants to be embarrassed but more than that he wants to revel in the fact that even when he's making a complete idiot out of himself, he can make you laugh.

Twelve years old again. Knees knocking, Adam's apple bobbing, and eyes watering as he tries his best to stifle the coughs and regain his composure in front of you.

Slowly, your laughter dies down and you retort, "You sure that's the best you've got?"

Still out of breath, he rolls his eyes. "Shut up,"

And already, just from watching the way your lips part, he can tell you're about to shoot back something sarcastic that'll only make him feel worse. It'll only make the tension build and build and build until–

He shut you up himself. Seals your lips closed with his own cracked lips and sinks right into the earthy, addictive taste of his weed on your tongue. For a few seconds, he gets a taste of that secondhand smoke before he comes back to his mind just a little bit and shoots back.

Eddie balls up his fists, digging his nails into his palms in frustration as he apologizes profusely. "I'm so sorry, I-I don't know what I was–"

"Shut up," you mutter and lean forward so fast that he can hardly process it. You grab his chin and pull him right back to your greedy mouth, letting him get another drag of his new favorite drug of choice.

#chocolate box valentine event❣️ #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚

[oboetemasuka]

Order of Attack, part 9

"A Withering Flame"

Finally, I've written Fuuta's voice drama. And revised it. And revised it again. And used the mega shears on the dialogue because Fuuta can't use long sentences.

What a monster of a chapter. I deserve a break. Next up is a shorter one-shot.

Trigger warnings for suicidal thoughts. Haruka's situation is also briefly mentioned. There's also something about Fuuta repeatedly stopping Es from getting Shidou.

(Courtesy link to the fic; will update at some point)

----

Es entered the cell and took in the layout. Fuuta was propped up in a hospital bed, his neck and torso securely braced and his left arm in a sling. He was kneading a Jackalope stress toy with his right hand, digging his nails into it. More stress toys stood on the table to his right, and Es almost tripped on one a few feet ahead. As Fuuta saw Es approaching, he dropped what he was holding and swatted the rest out of his reach.

"Been a… while, Warden," Fuuta said. Es was expecting more malice in his tone, but he sounded like his life force was draining.

"Fuuta… you…" They pulled a chair to the side of the table and took a seat. "Are you okay?"

"…look like it?" Fuuta responded. If he was angry, his voice did a terrible job of showing it.

Es didn't know how to respond. Do I look like it? was obviously a rhetorical question, but they needed to show some tact.

After a moment, Fuuta spoke up again. "…look awful… don't I?"

Still unsure of what to say, Es nodded slightly.

"Could've been worse. Could've died."

Es stared down, pondering their next words. Several seconds passed, and then Fuuta's voice registered in their head again.

"Oi… talking to you." Fuuta's irritated glare met Es as they lifted their head.

"I'm sorry," they said, "I'm… I'm not sure what I can say."

"Don't know what to say? I almost died because of… you don't know… Even so, it's a miracle I … If Shidou had taken any longer, would've been over for me. Don't blame him, though. …Oi, say something." 

"Sor-"

"Sorry won't cut it." Fuuta sounded more pained than angry.

Es took a breath. "…Kotoko did this to you?"

"No sh… agh…" Fuuta gasped for air.

"Fuuta!" Es got up and walked to his side. "I'll go get Shidou-"

"Don't!" Fuuta's eyes betrayed his desperation. After they locked eyes for a few moments, Fuuta let out a chuckle. "Look … you … down on me, like always. Must be so happy to see…"

"I- no, I'm not. I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't think Kotoko would-"

"Beat me to near-death? What'd you expect … you affirmed her…"

"I…"

"…thought she wouldn’t have … same crime here in… Oi, quit standing… staring…"

"I’m sorry, I didn't think-"

"Useless… apology…" 

But what else could Es do besides apologize? Stand their ground and contradict Fuuta while he was in that pitiful state?

"Really didn't think it'd… turn out… Me too. All I did… call some bad person out… say what's wrong was wrong… Their reasons were b-" Fuuta gasped and clutched his chest. Es began to turn towards the door, but Fuuta grabbed their cape with his right hand. 

Es swatted his hand away. "Hey, you can't just grab me like that."

"Don't dare…"

"Fine, I won't get Shidou. Yet." Es stood in place and waited for Fuuta to regain his voice.

"You judged me… said I was unforgivable… without the whole story… How's that any different?"

"Excuse me?"

"That's so hypo- khh!" Fuuta slammed his hand on the table, trying to play it off as an emphasis, but that didn't mask his pain.

"Careful, Fuuta! You'll hurt-" Es gave up on that concern when Fuuta glared. "Someone died because of you. You're saying I'm the same?"

"I didn't think they'd die!"

"But you knew people would dogpile them."

"I wasn't acting alone. Anyone else… out of my control… Why'd you pick me…"

"Milgram has judged-"

"Milgram doesn't make any f-"

Maybe Es should have put their foot down and called Shidou regardless of Fuuta's wishes. But something compelled them to hear him out. "Don't push yourself."

Fuuta was clearly annoyed, but he took a breath and continued. "Still don't see it? We're just the same!"

"Me? The same as you?" Es couldn't deny Fuuta's point. They both made their judgments without thinking that someone could be seriously hurt—or dead.

"I'll tell you. They were just in middle school. Maybe closer to Amane… than you…"

"Amane…" Es already knew this from what they gleaned from Fuuta's first video, but it didn't register how close in age their victims were. Wait, why were they thinking of Amane as a victim? "Amane… huh… I noticed you two have been spending a lot of time together lately."

"You kidding? Don't change the subject... You don't talk about her like… Only one who cared before everything went to hell. You made her go through it. Decided she wasn't forgivable… painted a target… She could've died too! Then we'd be exactly…"

"Don't put me on the same level as you."

"Are you not-"

"I'm just doing my job. Nobody told you to go online and decide who are bad people and harass them. You made a game out of judgment. This is what I'm supposed to do."

Fuuta laughed at Es for still failing to acknowledge their similarities. Then he winced in pain. Then he kept laughing and mocking Es for taking their job seriously. Es snapped back. A pointless, cyclical conversation. Fuuta stopped Es from calling Shidou no less than three times.

Eventually, the bell brought the conversation to a halt.

Silence.

Why was Fuuta so quiet?

"Hey… Fuuta?" Es leaned over to get a better look at his face. His eyes seemed glassy, and he seemed to be breathing more slowly. "Fuuta… I'll go get-"

"Don't. Not worth…"

"Worth what?"

"If you're not going to… forgive… what's the point… living?"

"Don't say-"

"Everything hurts so much. Painkillers don't help… Strange wonder I survived. Is it really worth it?"

"Worth it…" What could Es even say about that? Anything they could think of was either more unwanted pity or…

A cold accusation that Fuuta was bargaining his life for forgiveness. Es's thoughts flitted back to Haruka's interrogation- no, that comparison was unfair. Haruka's loaded intentions were worlds away from Fuuta's resignation. How could Es dare…

"I understand… this job requires resolve…"

"Resolve? You really have resolve… just kill me. With your own two hands. Don't hide behind the rules."

"I can't do that. I can't sink to the prisoners' level. It's my job as the warden to make a fair judgement. I… I have to judge each and every one of you… no matter how much they plead, cry, or bargain… even if they are dying right in front of me."

"What is even the point? You give a damn about my life, forgive me! If not, kill me… get it over with."

"Bargaining tactics won't work with me."

"Not like I care. Or… if I get out of this alive, I'll… kill… you…"

"Fine by me. If we truly are the same, then I'll have had it coming. Now, Prisoner no. 3, Fuuta, sing your sins."

----

Q: “What are you thinking about?”

A: “Ways to get rid of the pain”

#milgram #fuuta kajiyama #es milgram #milgram es #cw suicidal thoughts #fic #bad things happen to amane

[emmettland]

heavy vent

i'm so tired of feeling so drained, in every way possible. physically. mentally. emotionally. creatively. i'm trying so hard to do what i love, but it's like i'm not loving it, i'm not loving anything now. i read the words i type and just see something lukewarm, underdeveloped, nowhere near greatness. i open up my canvas to draw and it's just the same shapes, same ideas, same concepts, same struggles. it's all flat and monotone where there used to be life.

i've dealt with some very bad depressive episodes. i don't think i've ever dealt with one this long. it's not that there aren't moments of happiness and relief -- it's just that it hurts more knowing the empty, bitter gray will suck me back in once they end, and i'll make myself even more jaded wishing i could get them back, make them stay.

i want to do something self-destructive, but it would negatively affect the people i live with, the people who still manage to care about me, and i also need to take care of myself enough to take care of Peggy, even though that's become a slog through the gray too. wake up, walk dog, feed dog, feed self. distract from the bad feelings.

i want to work and be productive, but whenever i sit down to do commission work, i'm reminded of my shameful unemployment. whenever i sit down and try to get in the zone while working on a project, all i can think about is how the high won't last. the interest will fade. i'll do brilliant things with it, and then abandon it, and then grieve over something that i decided to leave behind.

all that comes out of my mouth now are excuses, or silence, because talking leads to venting and i can only vent about the same problem, the same feelings (just getting worse), so many damn times before that vicious little voice in my head keeps telling me i'm the problem.

i was better for a while. i got used to ignoring it. i even got to a point where i believed it wasn't right. when i believed people telling me i wasn't a bad person, that my work was worthwhile, that i was worthwhile. i believed it, i accepted it, i fucking loved myself.

i climbed all the way to what felt like the top, only to come tumbling down, down, down. it never changes, and i never learn. the higher you go, the farther you fall. when in my life have i ever found the key to happiness and actually held onto it? it's a delusion. everything is just a fucking delusion and i can't tell why. is it my brain chemistry? do i need pills? is it the unemployment? is it getting older? is it my own choices? if the answer was just written out for me, i could solve it, because i help solve other people's problems, why not mine?

i'm not suicidal. i'm not. i sound like a raving mad man while i type this out at seven in the morning, but this is the most real that i've felt, the words are actually clear to me and not just blurry shapes behind a wall of I'm Fine, I'm Polite, Don't Worry. everything is making sense right now and the words are so bright and sharp, it's almost like digging and digging and finally finding something in the ground.

i don't want to die. i'm not sure if i want to be understood. i don't need everyone to love me, just my family and friends is fine, i would also like to be included in that equation. i think about dying all the time, but i don't want to die, trust me. i just want help. i need help, and maybe spitting out so-called edgy nonsense on my blog isn't going to help me, but maybe it's good not to backspace and delete everything. maybe it'll give my therapist something to work with because i always forget to say things in the moment.

i can't even say i'm having a breakdown. that's singular, an isolated event. this is breaking down. i'm losing it, i'm fucking losing it, but believe me, i'm holding on. it might not look like it, but i'm grabbing and not letting go, even when my grip starts to slip. my dad's an alcoholic and turned to drinking when he got laid off. my dad made my mom cry so many times when i was a kid because he let go and i won't make that mistake, i won't make mom cry, even if she doesn't live here. i will not end up like him.

#emmett vents #i'm not tired at all but i'm going to bed #i'm feeling a little off the rails

[mytvd]

ok, i'm still watching, i've just gotten very ahead of myself and haven't been keeping track of thoughts for every episode. i don't really want to post out of order so everything's in drafts until i feel the holes in.

i was typing thoughts about a much later episode but this bullet point re: stefan vs damon, which turned into "more reasons i like stefan," got super long, so i wanted to post it on its own:

based on my history of engaging with similar media, i should be on the damon train, and stefan should seem really boring to me. but like, he's not that boring!! and a big part of why he chooses to be good (ie, boring) is because of his history of being a murdering psycho (even though even in ripper mode he wasn't really having fun, as evidenced by his corpse reassembly). maybe it's an age thing and maybe if i had watched this as a teen (i mean, impossible because of it when it aired) i would prefer stefan -- i know i found peeta boring in the books/movies at first, because i wasn't going to like teen drama media for like, thoughtful characters and ptsd healing and stuff -- but at this point in time, lol, i just love seeing his consistent patience, gentleness, and general respect for women on a tv show. a popular mainstream tv show!!! like, he treats not just elena with respect, but all of her friends, even before he gets to know them, and he never "objectifies them until he gets to know them better" as happens a lot in other teen media -- he starts out respecting them from the beginning. sooooo much of the time on tv/in movies, women characters have to be considered hot/attractive (particularly by the men characters) first and foremost to have value, and whatever other qualities they possess are secondary and only valued because their hotness means they deserve a closer look or a chance to prove themselves. i mean, there aren't really any non-hot people around (which really destroys the "southern small town" illusion) to observe this with, lol, but at least on this show, a man in the main cast treats all the women with respect, even when there's no concrete benefit for him to do so, even when no one else (ie, his girlfriend) is watching. he sees something worth getting to know in almost anyone he encounters (which is in line with his journaling habit) and he doesn't see people as expendable, even though their lives are so short compared to his, and he can't really rely on people being in his life long-term. i am honestly kind of surprised stefan has remained so consistent in this way, even as the show continues to brutalize women (of all ages, lol, and elena back-to-back-to-back) and kill them off in spades. like, the writing has obviously gotten worse and worse over time, and stefan has had some poorly-written moments for sure that felt like they bent the universe in order to make the plot more convenient instead of digging deeper to make the story make sense, but on the whole, his character is pretty consistent, and he has the ability to evolve/change (like being unable to be in a relationship with elena, but still being in her life [without being a lil bitch about it, like damon is within moments of their breakup], and still caring about all of her friends/the people that are only in his life because of her). i literally haven't seen paul wesley in anything else so i have no handle on his acting abilities outside of this show (although i think he does a great job on this show), but of course the performance adds a lot, but i mean, unless paul wesley is making script changes on set, lol, it's just kind of interesting how consistent the character has been written [most of the time] compared to other parts of the show.

**note: i'm only on season 5 and also outside of really the one vpd youtube video and princess weekes's excellent confederate vampires vid i really have zero idea what like, popular opinions about these characters are, lol, and i'm trying not to read anything until i'm done with the show

**edit: i'm halfway through season 6 and as soon as he was shown lying to ivy i regretted posting this but he had a good run, especially compared to most of the other characters on this show

#vampire diaries #the vampire diaries #tvd #vpd #thought break

[humanoidalien27]

Content warning: talking about death, regret and a nice dash of heart wrenching pain. (This is one of the darker stories I've written. So, I apologize for all the trigger warnings.)

....

Chapter 12

Determination

    Starring out the window, Sebastian barely noticed Felix talking to Fig. The faces of his friends haunted his mind as your voice echoed the last thing you said to him.

"I absolutely hate you Sebastian."

His chest twisted as his fists tightened again.

"Sebastian?" Felix asked, resting a hand on his shoulder, only to be smacked off. "I know it hurts-"

"Hurts?" He asked sharply, now glaring at Felix, eyes so close to yours it only added to it. "If I had blocked that spell instead of dodging it, they'd be alive. Their deaths are my fault."

Felix watched his face crumble as he glanced at Fig, who looked helplessly at his former student.

"She died hating me!"

Felix sighed softly, knowing what he was about to say wasn't going to help, but it needed to be said. "It seems the killing curse doesn't kill as painlessly as you thought, does it?"

Sebastian practically fell to the table, his fingers digging into his scalp.

"That is the price of using dark magic. You get hurt, the people you care about get hurt. She and Ominis cared for you-"

"They hated me."

Felix gave a slight smile. "You don't put your back to someone you can't trust. Their backs were to you."

Felix startled as Sebastian began to sob. "I didn't know. I didn't know they were there."

Moving close, he carefully pulled the teenager into an awkward side hug, his own emotions spilling out onto his cheeks.

    That night, Sebastian snapped his wand in half. A silent way of telling himself never to touch or defend those spells ever again.

He didn't want to be tied to it or reminded of it.

Sitting still for a moment before his eyes fell onto your bag, the place he stowed yours and Ominis's wands.

He pulled it closer and reached inside, finding more than he bargained for.

He, instead of a wand, pulled out a box that was wrapped in green paper with a silver bow.

Curious, he turned it over, seeing his name written on it was his birthday.

Felix's words about you carrying about him filtered through as he opened it.

Inside was a book filled with painted artwork on enchanted canvases. The first two had you, Anne and Ominis, though it didn't speak. The enchantment was just to make them move.

The next page had Poppy and Natsai. As he continued, it slowly progressed into the teachers and finally random ones of her and Ominis. The last page had him, back in the fifth year.

He glared at the bright smile on his painted self's face.

He shut the book, before reaching in again, finding another present. This time he assumed it was a Christmas present. It was a book of ancient curses, with a page bookmarked, so he opened it, seeing a note slipped inside saying it was Anne's curse cure.

You had found it a few weeks after she had died and forgot about the note when you put it in the box.

The next thing to come out of the bag was a letter written to him.

      -I know you'll never see these, but I can't help myself. Being your friend hasn't been easy and loving you, even harder. I think I've just gotten used you not being around, which seems worse in a way. Ominis is helping, though I sense he knows I'm lying half the time and is too polite to point it out. The truth is that it's been months and I can't stop these feelings for you. A part of me wants to wish them away, but they're all I have left of you. The only thing that I feel tethers me to you. I wish I could go back to that day we dueled and change the way everything went afterwards. I wonder if you felt the same or if this is just a silly dream of mine. I'll never be able to tell you to your face, not after everything, but I love you Sebastian. I never stopped and I miss you deeply.-

   He quickly wiped the droplets that splashed down, away before it smeared the ink as his eyes moved to the date seeing you wrote this a week before visiting Azkaban.

Breaking down, he had to stop digging and went to bed, or at least pretended to.

    Felix accio-ed the wands from the bag, but Fig's and Miriam's came with them.

"Who's are these?" Felix asked.

"She kept my wand?" Fig asked surprised.

Sebastian nodded and showed Miriam's. "Both of yours."

He stared at the wands, each belong to a wizard who died before their time.

Felix watched Sebastian grab your wand and stow it in place of his own.

"What happened to yours?"

"I broke it."

He nodded and moved to grab a box from behind the table. "Here. I'm giving these to you. Do with them what you will. I'm going on a very long trip." He placed it down and grabbed his bag. "I need to get my mind off things."

Before Sebastian could reply, Felix turned into his animagus form and flew out the open window.

Staring at the paper, which read about the Minister's downfall, Sebastian felt more alone than he ever did in his cell.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to nobody as he laid his head down on the table.

    By the time he woke up, it was dark out and the house was way too quiet. His eyes moved to the parcel, he pulled it close and carefully opened it seeing a necklace on a letter floating in the middle of the box.

He reached in and grabbed it, his fingers brushing against something soft.

He pinched the air, finding cloth and pulled it free from the box revealing an invisibility cloak.

He draped it over his lap and pulled the letter free from the necklace.

    -I know you regret many things that's happened and though I know I shouldn't, I'm giving you that chance to change it all. But remember that worse things can happen as well as it changing for good. Messing around with time is always dangerous. It's your choice.

Do take care of my cloak, it's been in my family for generations. The necklace is a time turner, I'm sure you've read all about them and know how to work them. The turner does not have the ministry restrictions on it, I won't get into why I have it, but do take care not to be seen by your past self unless in disguise.

If you decide to live this life the way it is, simply leave both in the box and it will apperate to me. Good luck Sebastian.-

Blinking, he took to time turner out and inspected it.

He had infact read about these items before, but he was doubting if he was even able to save people. All he's seemed to ever do, was get them killed.

"Living a life of regret isn't easy," Fig said, drawing his eyes. "When I lost Miriam, a part of me died with her. By the look on your face, it was the same with her."

Sebastian nodded slowly, though he missed Anne and Ominis just as much.

"I know that somewhere, they wouldn't want you to do this-"

A smile creeped up on his lips. "When was I ever able turned away by someone not wanting me to do something?"

"That was also your downfall," Fig added quickly.

"But it won't be my younger self's habit. Not if I managed to change certain things."

Picking up the cloak and the necklace, he headed towards the bedroom to grab a few things he may need as determination burned brightly in his eyes.

....

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#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #fanfiction #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #anne sallow #ominis gaunt #eleazar fig

[anystalker707]

Pleasantly Surprising

Pairing: Gerard x Reader Word count: ~ 4 000 Genre: Fluff / Enemies to lovers Summary: (Y/n) meets a nice group of guys in a concert. Warning: Blood, but no violence or wounds description.

Requested on Wattpad

a/n: This one if for you blood kink bastards </3

(Y/p) = Your pronouns

Feeling the cold night air filling my lungs with a faint smell of grass is much better than the smoky and sweaty, heavy air present among the public that gets worse near the mosh pit. I lean back against the brick wall, feeling the cold surface through the thick jeans of my jacket, digging into my shoulder blades as I try to control my breathing, quietly watching the band leaving the stage to give place to another.

My throat feels dry, aching the slightest after I swallow around the sharp and cold breaths, so I look around for a stand to buy at least a soda, ankling over to the nearest one. The line isn't actually that long – thank hell –, but that doesn't prevent a random bastard from trying to cut in line.

"Hey, what in the fuck you think you're doing?" I raise an eyebrow, pulling them back by their collar and they just look at me with this sulky face, bottom lip sticking out and lip ring glowing lightly under the reduced lighting. "No cutting in!"

"Says who?" they retort bitterly. "What you gonna do about it?"

"Aw, bold, aren't we?" I raise an eyebrow, glancing down and... the motherfucker is wearing school clothes, lacking the tie and shirt untucked. Private school. "What are you? Not like the other kids? The line isn't even that long, stupid."

"Fuck off," they sigh, shrugging out of my grip and harshly fixing their clothes.

"Frank– Fuck, Frank, the hell, can't we leave you alone for a single second?" A random voice suddenly interrupts our interaction before a tall person approaches, a motherly and worried air lacing their gaze. They look from me to Frank before exhaling, raising an eyebrow, at which Frank shrugs. "I'm sorry for whatever Frank did, he–"

"Fuck, no, Ray!" Frank cuts them off, "you're not playing the good guy here! I was just trying to–"

"Trying to cut in the line, yeah, very nice of you, isn't it?" I roll my eyes, twisting my mouth. At least he isn't lying, but is he stupid or something? Why would he try to convince us what he was trying to do was alright?

It looks like Frank is going to argue for a second, but ends up just groaning through gritted teeth and looking away with a sigh and tense shoulders.

Ray doesn't look any amused, only observing Frank like who looks at a puzzle after having tried to solve it for weeks without success. They shake their head, turning to me instead. "I'm Ray, he/him, nice to meet you. Sorry for Frank, what he did is... unfortunately usual."

I observe him looking at him from head to toes. School uniform just like Frank's, tucked shirt, loose tie. "Hi. I'm (y/n), (y/p). And don't worry, I would've done the same," I breathe, looking away from the two to hand the person behind the counter the money after pointing to the drink I want.

"What?" Frank gasps. "You would've done the same and still acted all like that towards me?"

I roll my eyes, sighing. "Me doing it doesn't mean I like being affected by it." I grab the change, shoving it in my pocket then step aside for Frank and Ray, cracking the can open.

"Y'know–" Frank crosses his arms over his chest, throwing his nose in the air, "–my momma says that you should treat the others as you want to be–"

"Aw, honey, so you'd like me cutting in the line right in front of you? Shamelessly?" I raise an eyebrow at him, unable to hold back a grin when his face gets bright red, hands balling into fists. Not gonna lie, it's kinda cute how he twists his mouth. Frank is about to curse when Ray is shoving a couple of cans into his hands – a sigh leaves his lips instead. "Two for each?" I question and sip on my drink.

Frank smirks, looking at me with humor. "Yeah, wanna watch me drink them at once?"

Ray rolls his eyes at Frank, shoving him out of the way after noticing there were people behind them. "We're actually with two other friends. Are you alone here? Do you wanna come along?" He smiles, ignoring Frank's complaints, so I opt for doing the same.

"I guess that'd be nice," I hum, shrugging. Otherwise, I'd be going home right now and Ray actually seems nice... I mean, Frank does too, but I'm not feeding his ego.

The other two stand against a brick wall when we find them, both quietly chatting to each other until seeing us approaching. The first one doesn't exactly react, more interested in the can Ray hands him, but the second, greasy punk, hums questioningly, straightening their posture as taking a good look at me almost like I did to Frank earlier. "And who are you?"

"(Y/n), (y/p)," I mutter, looking at them from over the rim of the can, taking a sip of my drink.

"Found lying in the trash when I approached," Frank adds, but doesn't seem so confident after I playfully shove him aside.

"Gerard, he/they," Gerard replies, eyes never averting away from mine. What is he, kind of a gang leader? Got a hell of an ego, though a bit differently from Frank – I'm noticing a pattern here, huh. "Mikey, he/him," he continues, nodding to the other guy.

I throw my empty can in a trashcan before leaning in towards Gerard. He tries to escape the touch, but he's against a wall, there's nowhere to go. How cute. "Belleville High," I say, finally able to make out what the small black letters embroidered on the chest area says, and step away, allowing Gerard to breathe. "Isn't it that private school? Catholic one? Wow, who'd know I'd find BH students here!"

"Stereotyping, are we?" Frank raises an eyebrow. It's impossible holding back a smile at him.

"No, never," I chuckle. "It's just a... rare occurrence. You came here right after school?"

"Not really." Ray shakes his head. "Just didn't have the opportunity to change. Good thing it's Friday, tho," he chuckles humorlessly and I nod in a silent agreement.

"And where do you study?" Frank takes a better look at my face. "If you study, that is."

I scoff, but don't reply just yet. Mikey is the most tidied up out of the four whereas Gerard has his tie loose around his neck, shirt untucked, blazer all wrinkled. "Of course I study, dumbass!" I glare. "But I'm in the public school near the park. But I've seen you before." I nod towards Gerard. "Just don't know where."

Gerard's eyes narrow. "Are you sure?"

"It's not always that I see a greasy vampire looking around, so yeah."

A silence hovers between us for a moment, both of us staring at each other until he feigns unamusement, looking away – I smile with a stupid pride swelling in my chest.

The night ends with us exchanging numbers after a solid hour of joking around and throwing sarcastic insults at each other. Teasing Gerard was particularly fun because he often ran away from the whole joking or at least tried to and even Mikey laughed when it failed, though sometimes succeeding when Frank finally managed to get the spotlight on himself. Ray is sweet, despite being the perfect example for 'looks like a cinnamon roll, but can actually kill you.'

Gerard got my attention, to be honest.

Saturday and Sunday go by quite slowly and thankfully texting the guys every five minutes doesn't make it as depressing as usual. Texting Gerard isn't the same as texting Frank – who replies a text to each word I send him –, however. Gerard often replies with a word or a vague comment and guess what? I'm only more interested.

No Gerard manages to slip between my thoughts during school, but it ends up happening as soon as I step past the gates. Belleville high, isn't it? Shitty elite, but they don't really seem to be like that... let's see if that wasn't just great acting. That's not even a mile away from here. I look down the street, the direction opposite to where I would usually go. It won't hurt to say hi, right? Not to mention I've got nothing to do for the rest of the day.

Belleville High's classes finish about ten minutes later compared to my school's, so I don't bother walking too fast, but not slow enough to let my palms get clammy or overthink anything. Amazing how I can feel like this about people I only met once. Okay, whatever, take a deep breath because I guess I know these curls.

"Look at who we have here!" I throw an arm around Frank's neck, interrupting whatever they were doing and attracting wide eyes towards me. Turns out I found them earlier than expected, hanging out in the park.

"Damn, are you everywhere?" Frank raises an eyebrow at me and presses his lips together, though never stepping away. Blood?

"Who knows?" I joke. "Also..." I trail off, only now taking a good look at them. "Man, what in the hell fucking happened to you guys? Seriously–" I yank a paper off Frank's back, sighing at the 'kick me' written across it and hand it to him, shaking my head. What fucking idiot did this? How the hell did they even get into a fight? It doesn't seem like they were fighting each other.

Frank groans poorly, wadding the paper into a ball and tossing it at the nearby trash can. He's got a few scratches above his eyebrows and blood trailing down the corner of his lips. Mikey and Gerard are probably in the best state out of the four – Gerard got blood trailing down his nose and same for Mikey, though on opposite sides and Mikey's cheek is smeared with blood. I can't say the same about Ray... I don't know how he's not even wincing with all that blood trailing down his face.

"Well," Mikey breathes, bringing a hand to the back of his head, "you can say that–"

"Why do you even want to know?" Gerard steps forward, hands clenched into fists by his sides. "You got nothing to do with it, okay?"

"Aw," I breathe a chuckle. So he wants things to happen like this? But does he have the nerve to keep it? I may not have known him for long, but the attitude is clearly foreign, unmatching. "And what, baby? You lost, didn't you? And you're a fucking sore loser!"

"I just don't see why you should know." He twists his mouth, looking at me uninterested, but it doesn't take long until he's looking at me with these eyes, irises barely seen, eyebrows scrunched close. "And don't talk to me like that! Maybe it would even be better if you fucked off and left us alone, don't you think?"

Man, he talks a lot. Too much. No wonder why he's in such a state. Maybe he'll shut up if I...

"Holy..." Frank trails off with a quiet chuckle and I'm certain Gerard would have glared at him if he wasn't processing what just happened.

Meanwhile, Mikey and Ray stare at me with wide eyes – as wide as Gerard's, but they're not as petrified as Gerard is, for sure, only with hesitant, unsure grins on their faces. I suppress the urge to laugh at Gerard, instead more focused on rubbing my tongue against the roof of my mouth, trying to get rid of the salty and metallic taste.

A quiet sound comes from Gerard as he finally moves, maybe a groan, not sounding really comfortable. He brings a hand up to his lips. The perfect trail of almost dry blood is now smudged, following the direction I licket it to, having the blood smeared across his chin and bottom lip. "Ugh, ugh, ugh," he groans, frantically cleaning his lips and chin with the back of his wrist, against the sleeve of his blazer. "What the fuck? You're gross!"

I roll my eyes with a sigh. "Man, I wonder why I thought being an asshole could be solved."

"Eh, trust me, he isn't normally like this," Ray says with a shrug, looking at Gerard like if he was a chained angry dog even after receiving a glare.

No one gives Gerard's tantrum much attention as we soon sit down on the grass and change the subject before we can notice. Surprisingly, Gerard sits down next to me. Even more surprisingly, he leans closer at some point and whispers, "well, look at who's the vampire now."

Saying Gerard's words got stuck in my head would be an understatement. Maybe it's a nightmare, maybe it's not, but it does get me randomly blushing or stupidly grinning during random times of the day. Nonetheless, school the following day does help a bit with cleaning my head a little.

After a few hours of staring at blackboards, the setting changes to staring at records hanging on the walls and it's honestly better. Incoherent, loud chatter being changed to music of my choice is a lot better, even if I need to talk to a customer now and then.

"This is the place I told you about. I've only been here once, but it seems good," a voice says from the outside, but I don't look up from my homework.

"Never been here," someone else says. A pause follows then their footsteps sound clearer and I sigh, shoving my things on the space under the counter.

"Hello, good afternoon," I say automatically, holding back a groan at how my eraser insists on falling and grabbing it fast. "How can I help you?" I finally look up just to freeze. And the four have the same reaction, to be honest. "I knew I had seen you before," I say to Gerard.

"What a small world!" Frank approaches, immediately narrowing his eyes and throwing his nose in the air as looking over to me. "So you're not a rebel who only wanders around and goes to free concerts during the night and stalks us?" He raises an eyebrow, looking around the place, inspecting the shelves full of records and CDs.

"So you only got one set of clothes?" I mock, staring at his school uniform.

Frank exhales, shoulders dropping. "We just got here from school." He motions vaguely to his messenger bag and I nod, humming, not like it matters a lot.

While we talk, Ray and Mikey wander around, talking quietly to each other and sometimes taking a record in hand, but Gerard... he stands there awkwardly, observing Frank and I with a lost gaze. What is he doing? Trying to act all cool like last time? Or doesn't know how to react?

"Hello," I greet, which sounds more like a question. Frank turns around to look at him, apparently understanding Gerard as much as I do.

Gerard presses his lips together and steps forward, also leaning against the counter. "You didn't mention you work here."

"Didn't have a reason to." I shrug.

The corner of his lips twitch and he's holding eye contact until sighing. "Okay, whatever. Got anything new on Misfits or Pumpkins? Also, Bauhaus." He glances at me, black strands falling over his eyes for a moment before he's pulling them away. Cute.

"Of course." I grin, moving to the cabinets behind the counter.

Frank eventually darts off as I show Gerard the records and cassettes like he wanted. I glance around to make sure Frank is paying attention to whatever Mikey is telling him and Ray before I turn to Gerard again, grinning lightly. "Y'know," I mutter, leaning forward with my elbows over the counter. "I've got passes for a bar concert tonight. Wanna come?"

"What do you mean by passes?" His eyes never avert from the records – he runs his fingers over them delicately, examining each of them closely.

"Each ticket was about ten dollars and they're sold out, but the store is sponsoring the event and I got free passes." I smirk, watching his eyebrows raise lightly. "I usually can get one person in with me. What do you say?"

He pauses. "Why me?"

"Because you're the one I know the least." And also the one I'm interested in. "Pick you up at seven, what do you say?"

He sighs. "I'll text you my address."

.

"Wow, you're..." Gerard stares at me with a blank face, standing there and letting all the cold air get in. He rushes into the car, closing the door carefully.

"I'm...?" I raise an eyebrow, sinking my foot down on the gas, pulling away from the sidewalk.

"I don't know." Silence. "Not what I expected."

"Glad to know." I grin. "You're also not what I expected. You're never what I expect, to be honest..." He wasn't all open in the beginning, but also wasn't the asshole he was in the park – in his defence, at least, he had just gotten out of a fight, nerves still on edge. At the store, however, he seemed more like himself. "Also, you're looking good."

Gerard's eyes are surrounded by eyeliner and a red eyeshadow – definitely nothing I would see him in, but also nothing I'm disappointed about –, bringing out his paleness. And for the first time, he isn't wearing that stupid school uniform and fancy shoes are replaced by platform boots. A leather jacket clutches his shoulders, decorated with a few studs and patches, and covering a nice Slipknot shirt. And there are his jeans, fucking tight and I swear I hadn't noticed this guy got such a nice ass and, fucking hell, it's difficult not staring at his thighs flat on the seat, with a chain falling over one of them.

"Thank you," he mutters quietly. Even in the reduced lighting, I can see his cheeks gaining a red tone before he looks away.

The place is crowded, but not overly – which is why the tickets were even sold, at first place – and it's fun seeing Gerard's chin drop when he looks at the sign of the place. To simplify, everyone is either always wanting to play in this bar or come watch someone play and the tickets are not only always sold in small quantities, but also expensive.

"Let's go," I chuckle after having spent a good moment observing Gerard.

We jog across the street, towards the entrance, just straight away skipping the whole line. The guy in charge of letting people in looks at us indifferently, in a silent question, muscles clear under the tight staff shirt. Even if there's no visible difference in his expression, he does relax a bit after I show him my pass and steps aside to let us in.

"Wow," Gerard mutters, almost inaudibly.

"You like it?" I ask as we walk through the people. No answer comes. He stayed back, of course; the boy is kinda shy and hesitant, after all. "C'mon!" I take a hold of his hand to pull him with me until we're in the bar area, which's much calmer. He stands there for a moment, looking around, until I point at one of the stools, sitting down on the one beside it.

Gerard shifts on his seat, hands resting on his lap and clenched into fists. He observes everything with wide eyes and I can't bring myself to avert my attention away from him. He's beautiful.

When the band starts playing, however, the atmosphere starts changing. It's a classic punk band – the kind of people you'd see around in skate lanes, spraying anarchist messages on a building's wall or behind a McDonald's counter – and the music is good, nonetheless, raw and emotional and demanding. Great to dance to.

Gerard is shy, as already stated – what makes me wonder how he even agreed on coming –, taking a good time to actually stand up from the stool and join me.

His hand is warm under mine, maybe not as warm as his cheeks seem to be. I had taken it in mine to pull him up from the stool, only, but he didn't let go and... oh well. Aren't you interesting, Gerard? I grin to myself and take his other hand to pull him to dance with me; that if you consider moving around to the rhythm of the song some kind of dance, but Gerard doesn't complain.

I'm not sure how much time goes by – I only question myself about that once the band is saying good night, breathing audibly as they get off the stage. The live music is replaced by a momentary incoherent chatter when loud music fills the place again, this time coming from the speakers. Gerard and I are out of breath when averting our attention from the stage to each other. My arms feel a bit sore after all of that, almost the opposite to my numb legs.

"Wanna grab a drink?" I nod towards the bar. "We can go to the alley to take a breath, then."

"Sounds good."

The non-alcoholic drinks are as cold as the night air, suddenly making it even more obvious how much we jumped around to the band's sound. We lean against the wall opposite to the side of the bar and I look at Gerard, watching his chest rise and fall fast, only coming to a longer pause when he brings the glass to his lips. He observes something above us, maybe the sky, but I don't care.

"Your nose is bleeding again." I suddenly note, seeing the dark red trail now almost reaching his upper lip. Not a surprise. He hurt his nose not much over a day ago and all the jumping must have opened the wound.

"Fuck." Gerard brings a hand to his nose and sighs when seeing the red stain on his fingers; I chuckle softly, halfheartedly. "What? You wanna lick it again?" he teases, raising an eyebrow at me. He apparently opts for not ruining the sleeve of his leather jacket, regarding it more than his school blazer.

I roll my eyes, smiling helplessly. "Well, if you'd like me to," I decide to tease back, looking at him through half lidded eyes.

"Ah, you wouldn't dare!" He chuckles, blood staining his lips according to how he talks.

"You think so, honey?" I raise an eyebrow. A few stutters come from him, but I just grab his glass and set it aside with mine, on the ground, before stepping towards him. "Tell me, why are you always so... bold around me? It's clear it's not part of you, as Ray even said." I suppress a humorous chuckle at how he frantically backs away against the wall, having nowhere to go. This brings me memories. "Maybe it has a specific reason?"

Gerard's eyes are wide, lips twitching, though no word ever comes through and his expression changes instantly once I get a hold of his hips and pin him to the wall. Feeling the heat coming from his cheeks is almost possible and all that resistance is gone, tendering into compliance and shyness.

"Look at you, Gerard," I mutter, rubbing circles into his hips as leaning in. "How surprising can you be?"

Having Gerard only letting out a quiet whine in response as his hands rest hesitantly over my shoulders make my heart flutter in my chest. I finally lean in, pressing my lips to Gerard's; he returns the kiss right away, lips sliding against mine easily.

And there it is; the rich metallic taste of Gerard's blood. I run my tongue over his bottom lip, snatching a hum from him, which turns into a whining-gasp once my teeth sink into it slightly.

His hands tighten around my shoulders, I grip harder onto his hips in consequence and he's sent relaxing back against the wall. He never had control over the kiss, but he's suddenly just giving up on the power at once with a quiet sound, slowly wrapping his arm around my neck to pull me closer and I gladly deepen the kiss.

"Wow, love," I breathe as soon as we part the kiss, lungs screaming for air. Gerard doesn't reply verbally, with his lips brushing lightly against mine and, by now, the blood is starting to get sticky, on its way to drying, also on my lips.

"I hope we can go out more often," he mutters shyly, not long before burying his face in the crook of my neck.

#gerard way imagine #gerard way #gerard x reader #oneshot #imagine #x reader #reader insert #male reader #female reader #mcr fanfic #mcr x reader #mcr imagine #frank iero #ray toro #mikey way #my chemical romance #fan fic #fanfiction #fanfic #gender neutral reader #non binary reader #fluff #enemies to lovers

[wannajointhecrabcult]

Masks and Music

(Part 1)

Part 2

I didn't think that my last post would've gotten ANY notes at all, so imagine my surprise when I find out that people actually liked it. After that suprise I thought why not and make another one so here we go! This is a Miraculous/Batfam crossover.

Imagine that Damian gets sent to Paris because the fam doesn't want him to become an emotionally constipated sad boi like Bruce and think that a change in scenery would help.

They don't know about the whole Hawkmoth situation because SOMEONE from the justice league decided that the while thing was a prank DESPITE that it was an ENTIRE CITY calling instead of a single person.

Like, aren't you guys supposed to be the world's greatest heros or something?

Who hired you?

Damian being the grumpy lil kid that he is holds a grudge and decides to not accept any calls or video chats from his family or tell them about Hawkmoth because that's what you get when you send someone across the world against their will.

(and because of plot convenience shhh)

Anyways, Damian goes to school as instantly adds Lila onto his mental list of people he needs to get rid of.

I mean, seriously, he's only been is the room for what, 15 seconds and he's already getting a migraine?

Great. Juusssttt great.

He sits in the back of the class with what seems to be the only person with brain cells in this room.

The dark haired girl just looks over and sees the disgust at Lila written all over his face and gives him a silent empathetic nod.

'This is unfortunately normal here.' she tries to convey through the small action.

He just nods back to show his understanding before turning around to observe the others.

In a few minutes Ms. Bustier walks in the room and asks him to introduce himself to the class.

It looks like the teacher never told the class that they were getting a new student because they all have to do double takes when they realize that there's a new face in the room.

He gives them the bare basics, telling them that his name is Damian Grayson, he's from America, and that he doesn't want any of them to talk to him before sitting down.

Clearly the teacher wanted him to say more or scold him for being so rude but a glare shut her up.

Later during a break period Lila tries to flirt with him and brags all about how she's met so many different celebrities and her achievements.

He tells her off and tries to move away but her nails are digging into his arms as she tries to convince him that he should stay away from Marinette.

Before he can maim her, the dark haired girl comes out from behind him and starts spraying Lila down like an unruly cat with some sort of strong smelling liquid from a spray bottle.

Lila screeches and stomps away.

When he turns to his hero the girl explains.

"It's a mixture of shredded lemon, expired maple syrup, vinegar, and pomegranate juice. I call it People Repellant but Thot Begone works too. Oh, and I'm Marinette by the way."

He eyes her hand before shaking it.

"Damian, though I assume you already know that. Can I get some of that by the way? I know a couple insufferable annoyances that would benefit from a spray down.

Marinette just blinks for a second before she bursts out laughing and that was the start of a great friendship.

Together they:

Make fun of Lila in the back of class.

Help eachother with homework (they only cheat off eachother when they REALLY need help)

Prank Lila in odd ways (Hey, just because she found hundreds of furbies hidden around her house that turn on one by one in the middle of the night effectively scaring the crap out of her when she's trying to sleep doesn't mean that it's their fault. She had it coming.)

Break a couple laws (shhhhhhh. Those toy stores don't need those furbies anyways).

Dare eachother over stupid things (they still insist that the cereal incident was caused by the other).

And overall become closer as friends.

They bring out the overdramatic chaotic gremlin child in eachother.

One time when Damian goes over to Marinette's place to work on a project he finds her singing a Disney song to herself on her balcony.

This isn't the first time they've caught eachother singing.

One time Marinette caught Damian in the art room at school humming one of the many annoyingly cheesy and catchy songs that Dick likes to listen to.

Despite him explaining the embarrassing situation to her she still teased him for weeks after.

He'll never get to live it down.

Damian shakes his head to get rid of the flashback when a devious smirk spreads across his face as a revenge plan comes to mind.

After carefully placing his stuff on the floor he sneakily makes his way across the space until he's right behind her.

That's when he joins in.

Screaming at the top of his lungs at first, effectively giving her a mini heart attack before eventually quieting down to a normal singing volume.

She glares at him, annoyed by his loud and obnoxious entrance before she starts singing again.

They eventually end up full Disney movie dramatically performing around her balcony with dance moves and over dramatic acting.

Is it bad that actual birds and other animals are appearing and joining in?

Damian totally kept one of the pigeons.

He named it Dolores.

(He later trained Dolores to attack Rossi on sight.)

When they're finished they end up on the floor out of breath.

They stay like that for a few minutes before Damian sits up.

"That. That was fun. I don't think I've actually ever sang before."

Marinette jolts up in suprise and turns to face him.

"Really? I never would've guessed. You have a really nice singing voice."

He would deny till his dying breath that he blushed when she said that but he covers it up with a smirk.

"Well I guess that's just because yours is so terrible in comparison."

He squawks when she jabs a finger in his side.

"Pshh. As if. Besides, my singing skills can't be worse then your gaming skills." She challenges with a cheeky smile.

"ExCuSe mE?!"

And that's how they spend the rest of the day playing video games, leaving the unfinished project to be completed on a later day.

Good thing it isn't due until 2 weeks time.

After a couple of hours playing video games, creating many possible Lila murder plans, eating pastries, and joking around, it's time for him to leave.

As Damian left for his place he got a feeling that something big was gonna happen.

Marinette also got the feeling but they both ignored it.

Little did they know, someone just happened to walk by and starstruck by the amazing singing they recorded the performance before posting it on the internet.

Imagine the duo's suprise when they wake up the next day to find themselves trending on the internet.

Luckily the video quality was pretty trash so their faces weren't identifiable but the audio was loud and clear.

The world was talking about the cute couple singing to their hearts desire on a balcony. If that's not cliche and adorable then the world doesn't know what is.

The assumption about their relationship status left them looking like tomatos but that didn't stop them from wonder why they didn't notice a creep recording them.

Damn Disney songs and their unnatural ability to distract people.

Of course Lila took advantage of the rising popularity of the video and talked about how she taught the two people in the video how to sing and gave them tips.

The two just walked past the idiot squad and sat down in their seats, making a mental note to come up with a prank later, when the akuma alarms came on.

They fall into their normal routine of Marinette running out to find a place to transform as Damian covers for her.

Oops did I forget to mention that Damian found out her identity because she crashed through his window in the middle of the night still transformed and asked him what's the answer to question 24 in their science homework because she just defeated an akuma by herself and was running on 20 minutes of sleep?

My bad.

Anyways it turns out today was the day Marinette had officially had enough of Chat's bullcrap.

It was gonna be a normal akuma situation.

Ladybug trying to fight the poor butterfly victim while chat noir either doesn't show up, tries to do everything on his own to impress her and ruins the whole plan, or just watches and complains about how she needs to get over her denial and date him BUT

This time he decided to actively try to push her in the akuma's way therefore putting her in SO MUCH MORE DANGER than she was already in.

Now she had to dodge out of the akuma's way AND CHAT'S!

WhAt ThE fUdGe?!?!

You think possibly killing Ladybug and trying to force her to beg for you to save her is gonna make her like you?!?

Just how hard did you hit your head when Gabriel dropped you on the floor when you were 2?

After the akuma was eventually defeated Ladybug told Chat to meet her on an abandoned rooftop that night because they needed to talk.

Chat being the oblivious person that he is (I swear I don't actually hate chat noir, this is for the plot I'm sorry) thought that it was for a love confession and became overly smug before leaving.

Making sure that he isn't following her, Marinette meets up with Damian at his place (school's over because of the attack) and asks him to help.

Later that day when the two miraculous holders meet up Ladybug distracts the Catboy by flirting with him while Damian uses his ninja skills for something other than sneaking up on her and giving Marinette mini heart attacks.

From behind he quickly hits a pressure point causing the other boy to fall unconscious.

Using her ALMIGHTY GUARDIAN OF THE MIRACULOUS powers, Ladybug takes Adrien's ring away and places a spell on him that makes it so he will never be able to use another miraculous ever again.

After they take Adrien home Marinette gives Damian the ring and Night Prowler is born.

He promises to do everything in his power to make sure that Selina and his family doesn't find out for the sake of his pride.

We'll see how that goes.

Night Prowler first officially appeared during an akuma named 'Break Dancer'.

Ironically, she was a ballerina that had to drop out of the finals in a competition because she broke her right leg the day before the show.

She could turn civilians into back up dancers and forced them to perform against their will.

They also worked as minions who would attack the duo for her while she stayed a safe distance away.

It was pretty obvious that the akumatized item was the music box held inside the bag that Break Dancer had slung around her shoulders but the real question was how could they get to it without becoming attacked by the backup dancer or becoming one of them.

Luckily (eheheh), a car with an open window playing music just happened to pass by before driving off.

Before it drove off, the music coming from the car was loud enough to play over the music box which caused some of the minions to become free again and run off.

Ladybug called her lucky charm and a Bobby pin landed in her hand.

As she looked around she noticed a store a couple blocks away that had a couple radios.

Unfortunately, the store was locked and closed.

Fortunately, she knew how to pick locks and a Bobby pin did come from her lucky charm soooo......

Who is she to deny literal gods.

They break into the store and grab a radio, and a speaker and rush over to where the akuma was causing chaos.

They turn on the radio, connect the speaker and turn the volume on as loud as it can go before flipping through the stations for a good song.

If they're gonna fight with music in the background they're gonna be picky about it and wont settle for anything other than epic.

While fighting they eventually get swept up in the music and end up singing along.

It's nothing less than full on majestic.

When the fight is over and the akuma is purified they find out that someone recorded it and posted it on the internet as well.

Now everyone knows that the beloved hero of Paris and her new partner were the two people singing on that balcony.

Ummmmm.....

Good thing that the video quality was trash right?

If it weren't for that their identities would've been busted the moment they started singing in hero form.

Luckily there aren't many people other than Damian that know what Marinette's singing voice sounds like so they're okay.

Well.... They WERE okay,

Until a certain rockstar and his agent came across the two videos and put two and two together.

So now King Sting (bee!jagged) and Peridot (turtle!penny) have joined the team.

Poor Penny, now she has to deal with two gremlin children and a some sort of bizarre man-child.

The next akuma confused the group quite a bit.

He didn't really do anything but sit on a rooftop waiting for the miracle team to show up.

They were all suspicious of him at first but when they did reveal themselves to him he explained his situation.

He was akumatized because his favorite rock band broke up but he didn't really want to take their miraculouses away.

He just asked if they could perform another song for him and he would give his akumatized item to them.

They all sorta looked at eachother and collectively went 'screw it why not' and sang another song.

If they were great before, they are absolutely AMAZING now.

Well that's what happens when you add a famous rockstar to a team of singing superheros I guess.

The akuma was blown away and true to his word handed over the rolled up picture in his pocket and was purified despite of Hawkmoth's nagging.

Haha screw you Hawky.

This time the ordeal was recorded by a news station and the 'hand over the akuma in exchange for a song' thing became a trend.

There were still normal akuma's that didn't follow follow it but those were far flung between.

It seems like Hawkmoth was getting annoyed by this so there started being less akuma attacks over the months.

Because of this some people were actively trying to get upset to attract one of the purple butterflies.

They traded one good thing for another I guess.

To stop that from happening the group started performing in public as superheros during concerts and festivals.

Because of this they became quite well known outside of Paris as well.

Is it ironic that more people know them as a band rather than a superhero team now?

When Marinette learned that they could change what their superhero costumes looked like if they put enough will into it she squealed.

Marinette designs superhero performance costumes for them whenever they have a festival to play at.

Whenever asked about their outfits they always reply with MDC.

Marinette's business gets really popular after that.

And since no one knows who MDC really is, she doesn't have to worry about the whole "Oh no me and my family are gonna be in danger!" thing

It's a win win!

Overtime they basically become a second (or third for some people) family to eachother.

Damian becomes more 'kid like' and open to others,

Marinette becomes more confident and overall happier,

Jagged gets to hang out with his awesome niece and her 'maybe more than just a friend',

And Penny gets a new outlet for stress and has so many more crazy stories to tell people.

One day while she's in the living room on the sofa watching 'The AristoCats' Damian just barges into the room and dramatically flops over onto of her.

He just lays there with his head in her lap and the rest of his body sprawled on the couch.

After everything that has happened this is normal for them now.

Without asking any questions or talking at all they just watch the movie together with the occasional remark or quip between them.

Around half way through the movie Jagged kicks down the door, effectively scaring the crap out of the two teens, while Penny follows behind him with an apologetic look on her face.

At first Jagged was yelling about something having to do with'Fang' and 'Dragon' and 'Miraculous' but after taking in the domestic atmosphere of the room he just sits down on the floor and joins in on watching the movie.

Penny, shaking her head in both amusement and exasperation, sits down on another chair and does the same.

While combing through Damian's hair with her fingers Marinette looks around the room.

'My life can't get any more complicated, can it?'

Oh boy, she just jinxed it.

This is just an idea I've had bouncing around in my head for awhile and I couldn't resist the urge to write it out. I AM planning on making a part 2 so if you like this keep an eye out for that. I'm by no means a fast writer though so it will take a while. But then again not many people will probably read this soo.... Yeah.

#maribat #maridami #miraculous x dc #daminette #Miraculous crossover #damian x marinette #i still cant believe that people actually liked my last post omg #people are so supportive in this fandom #masks and music

[nightshade-minho]

-Blue Book- (8)

Warnings: hoo boi.

Word Count: 2k 

"Y/n?" Chan gently shook your shoulder. "Come on baby, you've got to wake up."

You peeled your eyes open, cheeks flushing as you noticed how close Chan's face was to yours.

"Good, you're awake. Listen...I've got to go to the airport and pick up my parents, and your mom was blowing up your phone just a few minutes ago." The corner of his lips twitched in amusement as your phone started vibrating. "Well, there she goes again. Sounds important, you should answer." He straightened up, handing you your phone and heading to the kitchen. "I’ll be making breakfast."

You smiled as he left, expression dropping as you answered your phone.

"Yes, mom...?"

"Oh! My baby! Thank god you answered, finally...I'm so sorry about last night, darling..."

"It's oka-"

"No it wasn't! I'm a terrible mother. I'm sorry, it's just, he was so hot, and I was super intoxicated. We're going to go on a second date! Whose place did you stay at, by the way? A boy answered the phone earlier." She asked, her tone dripping with suggestiveness. You could almost see her wiggling her eyebrows.

"Ew, gross, mom! He's just a friend." You said as Chan came back into the room with a plate of waffles, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure, darling, whatever you say. Although I'm certainly not opposed to you getting laid, it was long overdue anyw-"

"Haha okay, bye mom!" You cut the call, shuddering as Chan giggled, passing you the plate.

"Just a friend? Do friends kiss each other the way we did last night?"

"Shut up." You smiled, digging into your waffles.

***

You watched Chan's car leave as he left for the airport, standing there until he became a speck in the distance before turning around to enter your house.

You found your mom sitting on the couch...but this time, she wasn't passed out with drool running down her chin and clutching a bottle of beer- she was sitting with an odd sense of poise, wearing a pretty summer dress and a huge smile.

"Y/n! You're home! How was your night?" She grinned, winking. You narrowed your eyes, her cheerfulness catching you off guard. Your gaze drifted to the table, on which rested some plates and two empty wine glasses.

"Nowhere near as good as yours." You said pointedly, tearing your gaze away from the table as you moved to go upstairs.

Flopping on your bed, you scrolled through your text messages. Nothing new from Chan. You sighed, reminding yourself that there was probably no Wi-Fi at the airport.

Suddenly your phone dinged with a new text message. Oh. A response to your tutor ad. You'd put it up a long while ago and had honestly forgotten all about it. Well, you definitely needed the extra money. You replied affirmatively to the text and tossed your phone next to you on the mattress.

***

It had been a while since Chan had had dinner with the boys. The conversation was light, and he had missed his friends..however he found himself missing you more, despite having seen you that morning.

"Minho, I don't know how you get away with making out with her in the hallway. I can barely hold hands with my girlfriend without some teacher giving us detention-"

Chan looked up as Felix shoved Changbin's arm, making him stop mid-sentence. Changbin raised an eyebrow, realization dawning on him.

"Ah sorry, Chan. I didn't mean to rub it in."

"Seriously, though." Jisung rolled his eyes. "It's been weeks, and you aren't any closer to getting that book. I hate to say it bro, but I don't think Miyoung would want to be with you even if Minho breaks up with her."

Hyunjin nodded, glancing up from his phone. "I've noticed her and Y/n are really buddying it up. It's girl code not to date your friend's ex."

"Of course, you're the expert on girl code, Hyunjin."

A small squabble broke out and Chan wanted to slither onto the floor and just...stay there. He glared at his plate, deciding he’d had enough.

"Stop it!”

Jisung and Hyunjin stopped talking, staring at Chan in surprise.

"I will get that book soon. I love Miyoung, and I'll make sure she's mine, through any means possible. I don’t care about your opinions, so you guys can just shut the fuck up." He hated lying through his teeth, but there was no way he was going to tell these judgmental burdens he called his friends that he loved you- at least not yet.

Chan relished the silence as he continued eating, trying his best to ignore Minho's burning, inquisitive gaze directed right at him.

***

You sat in bed, clutching your blue book as you tapped your pencil, your head filled with thoughts of Chan. In all your 17 years of life, you'd never known what love felt like...but now you did. And as a result, you were completely consumed with the burning need to tell Chan exactly how you felt.

When you'd moved to this town, you really hadn't expected for it to one day feel like home. But it did, and you were sure it was all because of Chan. His presence somehow made you feel safe, and protected, and you hadn't felt this secure since your dad left you.

You wanted- no, you needed to know if Chan felt the same way about you. You pushed the self-doubt deep inside as you imagined telling him.

You turned red just thinking about it. Fuck it, you were too shy. You'd be a blubbering mess two words in.

Sighing, you looked back down at your book...when an idea struck in your head.

Uncapping your pen with your teeth, you placed the nib on the paper and inhaled, letting all your feelings flow out onto the page. It felt kind of cliché, writing a love letter like this, but you always did have a tendency to over-romanticize everything.

Besides; it was more of a love poem. Gah, was that worse? You hoped to god he wouldn't find it cheesy, especially since you'd bared your heart to him with these words. As you finished, your eyes ran over the last sentence. 

"If you feel the same, please meet me behind the tree near the lake, where we had our first conversation, and where I started falling for you."

You shut the book and placed it on your bedside table, flicking the lamp off and rolling over. You nuzzled your pillow, your mind drifting to last night, the memory of Chan's lips and body pressed against yours still fresh.

***

It was a bit early to be having an ice cream date, but neither of you could honestly care less. As soon as you'd woken up in the morning, Chan had texted you to meet him at the ice cream parlour near his house.

"I can't believe you like salted caramel. Its such an old person flavor." He laughed, staring at you fondly.

"Like mint chocolate is any better." You rolled your eyes.

"Fine fine, let's just accept we have different tastes in ice cream."

You smiled. "That I can get on board with."

There was a comfortable silence as the two of you ate. You glanced up from time to time, your heart pounding as you psyched yourself up. Come on, this was the moment. You can do it, Y/n.

"Hey, Chan...?"

"Mm?" He asked, pausing with the spoon halfway to his mouth.

"Uh...are you free tonight?"

"Tonight? Oh, I'm playing soccer with the guys. You could come watch, though."

"Oh no, I have a tutoring appointment in the evening." You muttered.

Chan quirked his eyebrow. "Why'd you ask in the first place, then?"

"Uh, I just wanted to know. I mean-" You groaned, letting out an exasperated sigh. Bending down, you grabbed your bag from the floor and put it on your lap.

Confused, Chan watched as you pulled out your book, the book, swallowing. Slowly, you slid it over to him.

"I...what's this?" Chan asked as nonchalantly as he could, running a hand through his hair.

"It's...kind of my diary. I just-" you inhaled. "Look, I've bookmarked a page. When you go home- and please don't open it before then- read what I've written." You gulped, as Chan didn't make any move to take the book.

"Look, Y/n, I-"

"Please, just take it. Don't ask any questions." You looked down, trying to hide your flushed cheeks, trying to calm the beating of your heart.

Chan sighed, fingers reaching out and slowly curling over the book as he took it into his hands, tucking it into his pocket as you let yourself smile.

"Thank you."

***

Huh. This was definitely not what you'd been expecting. The house was a lot smaller than you'd imagined it to be, especially knowing how much you were charging.

You breathed in and came forward, knocking on the door and waiting. A few minutes later, a young girl opened it.

"Hi! Are you Dea?"

"How do you know that?" She asks, scrunching her nose, her hand gripping the handle tightly. "Mom says not to talk to strangers."

You shook your head quickly before she could close the door. "Sweetheart, I'm your tutor."

"Prove it."

You sighed, straightening and looking past her. "Is your mom here?"

The girl paused for a second before shaking her head, moving to slam the door closed, when a woman showed up from behind the corner.

"Oh good, it's the tutor!" The woman placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder, smiling at you. "Come in, Y/n. I've actually got someplace to be, but I'll be back in two hours. I assume you'll be done by then?"

"Yeah, most probably." You smiled and let her take you in, leading you to Dea's bedroom. The girl herself followed cautiously, and you found yourself a little amused.

"Right, this is her desk." The mom ran a hand through her hair, gesturing to the table. She glanced at her watch and swore, shooting you an apologetic glance.

"In sorry Y/n, I've got to get going soon- please focus on her maths, it's really bad. We'll discuss your fees and other logistics when I get back, okay?" She smiled at you, waving at her daughter before hurrying out the door.

You watched her leave, frowning slowly as she walked away. Something was niggling away at the back of your mind. Why did she look so familiar?

Turning back to the girl, you sighed inwardly at her knitted eyebrows and scowl. She was avoiding your stare, fiddling with her pencil and muttering under her breath.

This was going to be tough.

***

Minho sighed, watching Miyoung wave from the bleachers. Fuck, it was like she was physically incapable of giving him some fucking space.

He glanced over to Chan, clad in his uniform as he chugged water from the bottle Felix handed to him. When was this asshole going to get that fucking book? He couldn't stand having to date Miyoung any longer.

As the girl blew him an exaggerated kiss, Minho decided he had had enough. Needing to be alone, he turned around and went to the locker room. Just a moment to breathe, that was all he was asking for.

As Minho entered the cool, air-conditioned locker room, he let out a sigh of relief. He went over to sit one of the benches, planning to rest in solitude for just a few minutes... until he noticed Chan's clothing lying on one.

His shirt and jeans were carelessly strewn on the seat, and Minho narrowed his eyes as a flash of blue caught his eye, almost immediately.

Peeking out from the pocket was a very familiar looking little blue book.

He came closer, slowly pulling the book out and inspecting it. Could it be? The bastard had your book all along? Opening it, he flipped through the pages with a smirk slowly growing on his face. Yup, it was yours.

It was like the gods were smiling down on him, finally.

#chan series #chan smut #chan fluff #chan angst #bang chan angst #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #minho smut #felix fluff #felix angst #minho angst #lee know angst #skz smut #skz fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #skz angst

[vinyls-and-valentines]

Description: Cherri Cola pays a visit to the Diner. Everyone's about as stoked as you'd expect

Warning(s): Blood, Vaguely Sexual Content, Alcohol

Tagging: @always-and-forever-a-killjoy, @tasteofamnesia, @dagger-queen, @katastrophekid

Additional notes: Twitter Cherri Cola, my belo(ved)athed ao3 link | wordcount: 773 words

Enter scene.

The Diner. East Jesus Nowhere, Zone Three, California. A cockroach of architecture, hollowed out and turned into a hybrid nest-airwave-station through rock 'n' roll and detonation.

Lights dim and actors take their place.

Agent Cherri Cola. Local heartthrob, amateur radio zipliner, and promising author of the Zone's first poetry collection in 69 parts, all written in dingy bathroom stalls. See also: currently getting blood all over the Diner's floor.

Party Poison. Cherry martini with a shot of gasoline, leader of the most infamous gang of thrill killers on the playground, and the only person conceited enough to have their face plastered all over City walls. See also: currently pressing a blaster under Cherri Cola's chin.

5... 4... 3... 2.... 1.... Curtains drop.

"Why not give me a kiss too while you're at it, sweetheart?" Cherri smiles, looking up through his eyelashes at the red-haired 'joy as he leans against the plastic digging through his skin, looking for the airway.

"Please," Poison scoffs with an eyeroll, pulling their blaster away like the agent was doing things to it best spoken of when motorbabies are asleep (then again, knowing them, they'd probably like that- for better or for worse), "I've got better things to waste my time on."

"Suit yourself." he shrugs, watching the latter holster their gun and walk over to one of the far-off booths, sitting on the table and picking up a small switchblade that they begin to flick on and off, "Didn't think the infamous Party Poison would settle for second rates, though."

"You're just bitter you can't afford it." the switchblade in their hand closes with a sharp sound- a sign that he's hit a nerve, but he isn't quite in the mood for play, so he shakes it off.

"Perhaps." he shrugs, leaning into the doorframe and giving the room a one-over, "Where's the loverboy, anyways? I think i like him better, between the two of you, anyways."

"Out." Poison scowls at the silver blade and Cherri's almost starting to think he's not wanted there (note the sarcasm), "And so are D and Show, so don't expect me to clean up after you."

"Wouldn't dream of it, princess- most of it isn't mine anyways." he hums, before pushing himself back upright in a practiced motion, "Just dropped by to contact mothership."

There's a court exchange of pleasantries- a nod and salute met with pointed glares and a proud middle finger- before the visitor ducks back out of the Diner and to the shack stuck on the side of the building like weeds growing in the cracks of Route Guano.

Airwaves stay silent for a couple more seconds as the transmitter's lights blink on and off in lieu of a dial tone before a snappy voice answers on the other side.

"Congratulations, you've reached the frequency of licorice-flavored Armageddon- NewsAGoGo speaking, don't waste my breath."

"Hey, loser." Cherri chuckles (you've ever noticed how funny everything seems while bleeding out and with napalm in your brain?)

There's nothing but the sound of shuffling coming through the static for a moment before the DJ wishes him a loving, "Choke."

"Wow, such a warm welcome- it's like homecoming all over." the agent muses fondly, smiling at his sibling's artfully crafted discontent.

"Do you have anything to say or are you just trying to take up all my bandwidth?" Newsie says in a bored voice, and Cherri can almost see them kicking back in their chair with an issue of Shiny in hand.

"Hmmm, tempting, but no." he hums, tapping his chin like he's thinking about it for a moment, "Remember that disco up south? Yeah, turned out to be a total bust. Gumdrops flying everywhere."

There's a beat of silence before, "Shit. Cher, are you..?"

"Oh, i'm bonus track, you should see the other guy, though. He's wearing his insides out like it's in season- so 2005." the agent laughs, twirling the microphone's wire around their finger.

"Fuck your world!" Newsie hisses, most likely annoyed by their brother's antics (then again, who isn't these days? They just don't know how to have fun), "For a moment i though i'd have to come collect your sorry ass off the curb of the road like Easter."

"Love you too." Cherri says, though the red light lets him know his words were likely lost to the radiation that entwines the airwaves. Talking of red, he should probably check if he got injured during that clap after he takes a quick nap- his head feels heavy like a rock, and it's not like he has much choice as it hits the table with a thud

#no funny comment in the tags. too tired. enjoy the non-director cut of this ficlet #killjoys #danger days #agent cherri cola #party poison #newsagogo #boo's writing #killjoys fanfic #twitterverse #ttlotfk

[itsadamcole]

fix you

fem!reader x finn balor

(requested) reader loses someone really close to her and Finn is the only one who can "fix her" ...

word count: 2.3k+

warnings: mentions of someone dying, the grieving process, crying, upset!reader

— this is based on “fix you” by coldplay. thank you to anonymous for requesting this. it’s one of my favorite things i’ve ever written —

masterlist || request an imagine here

***

The first feeling you felt was numbness. It didn't seem real when your brother called you to tell you the news. You couldn't believe what your brother was telling you. It was shocking and very unexpected.

"Y/N, Mom and Dad were hit by a drunk driver," your brother said to you over the phone. "They went to the hospital but they didn't make it. They're gone."

The funeral was the same day that you had an opportunity for the NXT Women's Championship so you couldn't go, but you won the title. Nothing felt any different. You didn't feel happy or in a celebratory mood. Yeah, maybe you felt borderline content with winning the title, but it didn't help you feel better like you thought you would. You put on a fake smile but cried real tears that day. The confetti fell, everyone was celebrating, and all you wanted was to see your parents' faces in the crowd. They weren't there.

It's been a week since you won the title, and you're still in denial about your brother's call. You've tried calling your parents' phones, hoping they'd answer. You only spoke to their voicemails. You just wanted to hear their voices. It had been a few weeks since you last talked to them, and you wish you talked to them more recently.

You've pushed all your friends away since you've tried to cope with your parent's deaths. You've been so tired, but you haven't been able to sleep at night. Non-stop tears streaming down your face for days, maybe even weeks. You don't even know.

What am I supposed to do when I lose something I can't replace? you think to yourself every night when you lay in bed. The thoughts constantly ring through your mind when you're trying to sleep. Does it get worse than this? Can you handle it if it does get worse than this?

One of your friends, well your boyfriend, asked you if he could come to your apartment today. You told him he can come over. You saw him the day you won your title but you haven't seen anyone in days

You've been hiding out in your apartment, barely eating and not showering. You haven't had any motivation to do anything. Your little one-bedroom apartment is a disaster. Clothes are thrown everywhere in your room, the living room is covered in trash and glasses, and the dishes are piling up in the sink. The title lays on the arm of one of the chairs in the living room.

At almost one in the afternoon, there's a light knock on your apartment door. You get up, brushing your hair out of your face and wiping the tears away that have stained your cheeks. You unlock the door and open it.

Finn Balor stands at your front door in his signature black leather jacket, a black t-shirt, and jeans. He's holding a bouquet of flowers, a bag with snacks, and an iced coffee from Dunkin Donuts. The tears start again at the kind gesture. "Finn," you cry, walking toward him and hugging him.

"Don't cry," Finn coos. "Come on, let's go dig into these snacks, yeah?"

Nodding, you let Finn walk into the dark apartment. The curtains are all closed, making it darker in the apartment than it is outside. Finn looks around the apartment, setting the bag of snacks down on the kitchen island counter. You stand behind him and look at his view.

"I, um," you say, clearing your throat. "I haven't had the chance to clean it up." Finn turns and looks back at you. Tears well in your eyes. "Actually, that's a lie. I haven't had the motivation to clean it up in weeks."

Your boyfriend sees the tears in your eyes and says, "Hey, that's okay. Ya are going through a lot, Y/N. We can clean it up together and I can help ya in any way ya need me to help."

Nodding, you say, "That sounds nice, Finn. Thank you."

Finn nods and says, "Anything for ya, my love." He walks over to the silverware drawer and grabs spoons. "So, I brought over your favorite ice cream and we can watch some Netflix or Disney Plus. Whatever ya wanna do."

He hands you a spoon and a tub of your favorite ice cream flavor, chocolate chip cookie dough. You take the tub and walk to the couch. You throw the empty boxes of tissues off the couch so Finn can sit. He joins you and grabs the remote, putting on Netflix. You open the tub of ice cream.

"You've been starting a lot of things but ya don't finish watching them," Finn observes. "Ya started so many shows."

You stab at the ice cream and say, "Yeah, I watch it then I get sidetracked with crying." You stab harder at the ice cream and get frustrated. "Why won't this stupid spoon go into the ice cream?"

Finn looks over at you and says, "It's a frozen food, Y/N. It'll defrost a bit if ya give it time."

Getting irritable, you mumble, "Time's not something a lot of us have." His facial expression softens when he hears what you say.

These comments and thoughts aren't uncommon, especially recently. You've been thinking about this a lot while you've spent hours upon hours crying.

You're still stabbing at the frozen ice cream when Finn reaches over. You snap, "I can do it myself."

"I was just trying to help," Finn says, pulling his hands back from you. He's looking at you while you finally get a spoonful of ice cream onto the metal spoon. You take the bite.

"I don't need you to help me with getting ice cream onto a spoon," you say.

Finn looks at you and asks, "Why am I here then? All you're doing is snapping at me and making these comments that you didn't make before."

You say, "You're the one that asked to come over, Finn."

He blinks at you and says, "Because I missed my girlfriend, Y/N. I still do. I don't know who ya are anymore. I don't know this person. Ya disappeared after ya won the title and I didn't hear from ya until I reached out to ask to come over. I probably wouldn't have ever heard from ya if I didn't ask to come over."

While Finn talked, you put the tub of ice cream on the table. When he's done, you say, "My parents died, I didn't get to say goodbye, and you expect me to just be the same Y/N I was before they died. I didn't even get to go to their funeral, Finn. I was too busy winning a title I'll eventually lose anyway. I was winning a title that I don't even deserve." You begin crying again for the millionth time in weeks.

Finn turns so he's facing you as he says, "I never expected ya to be the same Y/N ya were before. I one hundred percent never expected ya to be the same Y/N. I've never lost a parent let alone two so I can't understand the pain and the anger you're feeling right now." He takes your hands in his and holds them while you cry. "Especially because they died so unexpectedly and you didn't get to say goodbye to them."

"Fix me, Finn," you cry to your boyfriend. "I can't keep doing this. I can't keep crying when the smallest thing sets me off like this. I can't have my apartment looking like this." You motion to the messy room around you. "For the first time in weeks, I felt genuinely happy because you were here. I feel like you're the only one who can fix me."

He pulls you into a tight hug and your bury your face into Finn's neck. You cry silently as Finn says, "I'll try to fix ya, Y/N. I can't promise that I can but I'll try. I can't be the only one putting in effort though, baby. I need ya to work with me on this too."

You look up at Finn and you nod, saying, "I can do that." He gives you a soft smile and wipes away your tears before cupping your face. You meet his eyes before he rests his forehead on yours.

Your boyfriend says, "Ya know I'm always here for ya, Y/N. Ya don't have to push me away like I know ya probably want to. I'm in this with ya. Tell me what ya need and we can get started."

"Can we clean my apartment so it looks halfway decent again?" you ask.

Finn laughs a little bit and says, "Of course. I'll get some trash bags and we can start."

Nodding, you pull yourself away from Finn and he gets up. He grabs trash bags from the kitchen and you gather the empty tissue boxes that litter the floor. You grab the used tissues too that missed the tiny trash can you have in the room. Finn returns with an open trash bag and you throw them out.

Then you walk into the kitchen to do the pile of dirty dishes. Finn brings you any glasses, plates, or silverware he finds throughout the living room and dining room areas. He does the same in your bedroom. You do them as he brings them to you.

Your boyfriend being here has given you a little extra motivation you failed to find over the past few weeks. He's helping you clean, and he promised to help try and fix what's going on with you.

You know it won't be easy learning to cope with your parents' deaths, but maybe Finn being around can help you begin to cope. Sometimes having someone to be there for you isn't a terrible idea. So, you make a mental note to see your other friends when you go to NXT tonight.

Step one is to cope with the fact that your parents are gone. Learn to deal with all the emotions you're feeling without keeping them bottled up or snapping on someone because you're feeling emotional. Finn can help you with that, and you're grateful.

It's one step at a time from now on while you learn to cope. You'll figure out step two when you eventually get past step one.

It's close to four when the apartment is cleaned, dusted, swept, vaccummed, and washed. You've even showered and shaved by this time, and dressed in clean clothes that aren't stained with tears or snot. Your hair doesn't look like a bird's nest and you were actually able to put on some makeup so now it looks like you've slept.

You walk into the living room after your shower and find Finn on the couch watching Netflix. You walk up behind him and cover his eyes. "Guess who?" you say by his ear.

"Hm, I don't know," he tease. "Whoever it is actually smells clean."

After gently tapping the back of his head, you uncover his eyes and say, "Jerk."

Finn turns his head and looks at you. He smiles and says, "Look at ya. Ya look good in actual clothes instead of a t-shirt and sweatpants. Not that ya don't look good in a t-shirt and sweatpants but ya have probably been wearing them for days."

You say, "You're the reason I'm actually dressed. You give me a little extra motivation and kick just by being here. Thank you."

He gets on his knees and faces you. "I'm just here to help ya get through this," he says. "Start to finish."

You wrap your arms around his neck and say, "You're the best. I don't deserve this."

Finn says, "Ya don't deserve what happened to ya. We can fly to your hometown so ya can see your family if ya want."

"When I'm a little stronger and I can handle my emotions better we can," you say. Your face falls. "My parents never were able to meet you."

He says, "I don't have to meet them to know that they gave birth and raised one of the most intelligent, athletic, strong, and most beautiful women on this planet. I know they would have went off and started telling me how smart ya are, how strong ya are, how well ya wrestle, and how beautiful ya are. I already know all of that."

Your face gets all flustered as you listen to what Finn has to say. You let him finish before you say, "I wanted them to know how amazing you are, Finn. I wanted them to know that you're taking care of me while I'm thousands of miles away from them."

Your boyfriend climbs over the couch and stands in front of you. "I'm sure they know," Finn says. "If not, I'm sure they do now."

He engulfs you in a hug and you rest your head against Finn's chest. "I know," you sigh. "I'm just glad you're here and trying to help me."

"Fix ya," he reminds you.

You look up at Finn and say, "Yes, fix me." You give a small smile.

Finn says, "Woah, was that a smile? Wow, it's been a long time since I've seen that pretty thing."

Your face gets hot again and you say, "Finn, if you don't stop making me get all flustered."

He chuckles and says, "I'm sorry, mo ghra. Anyway, ya ready to head to the arena? We do have a job to do tonight."

Nodding, you grab your bag and your title. You grab your keys and leave your apartment with Finn.

#finn balor imagine #finn balor x reader #finn balor angst #finn balor fluff #wrestling imagine #wrestling angst #wrestling fluff #wwe imagine #wwe angst #wwe fluff #nxt imagine #nxt angst #nxt fluff #wrestler x reader #angst imagine #fluff imagine

[mamichigo]

Title: picture frame

Pairing: Dazai/Atsushi

Rating: G

Word count: 1,7k

Tags: Fluff, Domestic, Established Relationship, Writer Dazai, Photographer Atsushi

Summary: "Your tired smiles, your warm eyes. I collect all the important parts of you, protected by picture frames."

Notes: This is my gift for @katsuriya! (Katsu ily). Written for @dazatsu-exchange.

*

"Can't you guys just do whatever you want? It's not like I would know anything about organizing events like this. Yeah, I know I signed up for it but— Kunikida-kun, this is torture! You're bullying your author! I'm gonna die of a heart attack… Yes, yes, I'll do it, geez."

Dazai had been on the phone with his editor for the better part of the last two hours. Atsushi watched him pace around the low table of the living room. If it were possible, he would've digged holes with the force of his footsteps alone. After that last sentence, Dazai cycled through a series of empty "uh huh", "yes", "alright", until he finally put the phone down with a sigh.

"Atsushi-kun…" Dazai whined. He slumped, then crouched, then finally lied down with his face to the floor. "This is unbearable."

"Is Kunikida-san being strict as usual?"

"As usual? It's much worse than that!" Dazai slapped the floor weakly. "Just because it's almost New Year, it shouldn't affect my schedule. But I have the deal with the manga department now, and I'm technically the co-author, plus they can't get anything through without my approval. I've been pulled into their holiday season events, it's awful."

Atsushi, feeling sympathy for the clearly overworked author, padded his way and joined Dazai on the floor. He sat down on his knees and patted Dazai's head gently.

"Thank you for your hard work."

Dazai gurgled some sound that Atsushi couldn't decipher the meaning of, and made no further attempt to communicate. Atsushi continued to play with Dazai's hair until he had wallowed long enough to feel ready to roll over and look up at Atsushi. There were clear dark circles under his eyes.

"This is what happens when you actually do your work," Dazai whispered mutinously.

Atsushi laughed and threatened to let his editor know he said that. Dazai, betrayed, pinched Atsushi's thigh. Because Atsushi was a good person and he loved his partner very much, he ignored the sting and leaned down to kiss Dazai's cheek.

"Would you let me do a photoshoot with you?" Atsushi asked.

Dazai lolled his head to nuzzle against Atsushi's knee. He looked up at Atsushi questioningly. "Right now?"

"Only if you want to," Atsushi reassured. "Nothing fancy, you don't even need to change clothes. I think it'd be a nice distraction."

Dazai hummed; Atsushi felt the vibrations up his leg. He squirmed a little.

"If it is your desire, then it is also mine, there's no request I would refuse except for those that cause you harm," Dazai said in a low voice. It sounded like a quote, maybe from something he was working with. Though, it could just as easily be something he came up with on the spot. It was hard to tell, with Dazai.

"You're really too much," Atsushi admonished.

Dazai laughed, tired but carefree. "If you insist, then, in normal terms that's a yes."

"Let me get my camera."

Atsushi got up to do that and changed the lens to one of his best ones. Besides that, Atsushi didn't bother with any other equipment, though the lights and reflectors that seemed to be in Dazai's place more than his own were readily available. These pictures were just for himself, so he would work with whatever lighting there was.

(There was a special allure to Dazai that couldn't be captured quite right in artificial light.)

Dazai was still in the same spot when Atsushi came back, drawing invisible patterns with his index finger and whispering to himself.

Atsushi waited until he stopped to ask, "New idea?"

"A flash of inspiration that might save me from my writer's block in the future."

"That's some powerful inspiration."

Dazai raised his hand to Atsushi, who helped him up by the arm. Dazai rose in a smooth arc, directly into Atsushi's embrace. Atsushi poked him the ribs and pushed him away.

"I can't take your picture with you clinging to me like that."

"Ah, love is such a fickle and cruel thing," Dazai said. Despite his words, he stole a kiss as soon as Atsushi's attention flickered to his camera. "What do you have in mind this time?"

"Something for the New Years sounds fitting."

Atsushi explained what he had imagined, and Dazai, knowing the layout of his own house much better than Atsushi, suggested the locations that would be most fitting for the setting. It was a good thing that Dazai already wore a kimono as his default outfit, with the addition of his most comfortable haori and a fortune charm that he held in his calloused right hand, it made for enough of a nice image to go with the theme. Atsushi held back from saying anything when Dazai held the charm to his lips in an almost kiss, his eyelashes lowered delicately.

Not for the first time, Atsushi was impressed by the sheer size of Dazai's house. Every time they did one of these photoshoots, Atsushi felt the house became warmer; all the corners that were too empty, too sparse were filled with movement. The ghosts lingered less like this.

For the final picture, Atsushi directed Dazai back to the low table. Thankfully, the sliding door facing the garden let in enough light to capture Dazai in the gray hues of winter with his face half illuminated by it. It made for a pretty picture, even if Dazai ruined the atmosphere by biting into a mandarin like he would an apple. Atsushi's eyebrow twitched.

"Atsushi-kun, this isn't even an actual kotatsu," Dazai complained as he flopped down while Atsushi checked the last series of pictures. "This entire photoshoot is a sham."

Atsushi paused to raise his eyebrows at Dazai. He looked pointedly at the low table. "So now you admit it's not a kotatsu?"

"Well, it has the table and the warm blanket over it. It's close enough, right?" Dazai patted the tabletop. "This does the job nicely. Why would I buy a new one just for the heater?"

"You could just buy a heater by itself."

"Irrelevant."

"You're just a cheapskate."

Dazai snorted inelegantly. In this position, lying as he was, his hair fell over his eyes, half obscuring them. Both his arms were held above his head, and the sleeves of his kimono slid down to reveal rolls of bandages; the dip went low enough that Atsushi wondered if he would see a grimplss of naked skin, if he tilted his head just right. As if catching on to his thoughts, Dazai watched him like a hawk, his eyes half-lidded. There was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Atsushi made a gesture for Dazai not to move, and raised his camera to capture that expression. As he stared at the resulting picture, Atsushi thought that, out of all the other pictures, this was the one he specially wouldn't show to anyone.

"Atsushi-kun, you're getting some sort of impure thought, aren't you?" Dazai teased.

Atsushi coughed lightly. "I'm not."

"You always get this guilty look when you do it, just so you know," he helpfully informed.

Atsushi quickly turned his head. "It's just your impression."

Dazai wormed his way to Atsushi, shuffling about on his elbows. Atsushi finally relaxed from the awkward pose he had forced his legs into to get the frame he'd wished for. As soon as Atsushi let go of the camera, Dazai reached for his hand.

"Hm." Dazai poked each of Atsushi's fingers with his own. "Did that make you feel better?"

Arsushi blinked in confusion. "I'm the one who should be asking you that."

"You really shouldn't!"

"I thought you were doing this to help you forget all the publishing stress?"

Dazai gave him an indulgent smile. He let go of Atsushi's hand to reach for his camera, hanging from Atsushi's neck. Atsushi, even though still confused, lowered his head so Dazai could remove the camera. He set it aside a safe distance away from them, and pulled Atsushi down so they were in pile on the floor. Dazai wrapped an arm around Atsushi's waist.

"You get so focused on others you don't even notice your own stress, do you? It's not the worst coping mechanism, but it does make you quite oblivious your own feelings." Dazai let his words sink in before adding, "It's okay if you're not doing your best."

Atsushi inhaled carefully. Dazai's orange-like scent clung to his lungs. He relaxed onto Dazai's body.

"I dislike winter," Atsushi confessed. "It makes me think of being cold and hungry. I… I feel a lot better when I don't have to think about it."

Dazai tightened his grip. "Alright. Then I'm glad to be a distraction." He paused. "Ohhh, maybe I should start writing poems. My specialty is prose first and foremost, but I'm sure I could pull it off. I'd give you a bunch of lovesick poems, and then you'd be too preoccupied being completely, utterly in love with me."

"I'm already completely, utterly in love with you, Dazai-san."

"Then completely, utterly, ultra in love with me."

"I'm pretty sure you just want an excuse to procrastinate your new manuscript."

Arsushi couldn't see it, but he just knew Dazai was grinning. "Just a little bit. Ah, but I'm serious. You always look at peace when you take pictures of me—does wonder for my ego, by the way—, so I'm glad to be your model when you need it."

"That's because…" Atsushi took a moment to compose his words in a way that would make sense. "Usually you take pictures to feel nostalgic about the past, knowing that moment will never come back. When I take your picture, it's more like proof."

"Proof of what?"

"That I still love you, just like I loved you then. Just like I'll love you tomorrow. I think the stability of it gives me comfort when everything else is hectic."

Silence.

"Dazai-san?"

Atsushi pushed himself to his elbows. Dazai was quietly glaring at him, his face pink. Atsushi was stunned. He tried to reach for his camera, but Dazai gripped both his wrists.

"I can't handle you sometimes," Dazai managed to croak out. "I'm going to make a character who is pretty much you, and pair him with a self-insert, then have a tragic, dramatic love story for them. Don't test me."

Atsushi giggled. "Don't threaten me just because you're shy!"

"Atsushi-kun, I don't have a single shy bone in my body, take that back!"

Atsushi just watched with fondness as Dazai went on a tirade on all the ridiculous antics he would put his characters through. Atsushi chose not to let him know his heartbeat was frantic in his chest.

I love you, it wanted to say. I love you and you're wonderful.

#nakajima atsushi #dazai osamu #dazatsu #dazushi #bsd #bungou stray dogs #my writing

[amazinglissawho]

I posted 4,334 times in 2021

9 posts created (0%)

4325 posts reblogged (100%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 480.6 posts.

I added 15 tags in 2021

#representation - 4 posts

#said i have hazel eyes when i have brown eyes - 2 posts

#media - 2 posts

#but i’ve also been using :d - 1 posts

#you and so many others and you aren’t helping - 1 posts

#the amount my fyp has become ‘we’re just pointing out something’ - 1 posts

#i have never fucking reblogged something harder holy hell - 1 posts

#first seven episodes - 1 posts

#a lot recently! - 1 posts

#and :( - 1 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#i also think that it comes from john having been tumblrs ‘only safe and valid white man’ but now that he’s not a perfect abd unproblematic

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

gonna start repeating what you all say on here with one letter changed and claim parody laws

5 notes • Posted 2021-09-15 20:43:11 GMT

#4

Six Fandom I’m begging you,,,,stop white washing the queens. Please,,,,

39 notes • Posted 2021-01-07 21:07:06 GMT

#3

“As a POC myself I've never seen any POC characters on screen/in media who don't serve as either comic relief or as side characters that perpetuate annoying stereotypes.

And honestly? Sometimes misrepresentation feels worse than no representation :(

Hopefully we get lead POC's who are well written soon”

I feel your pain Anon. I think the best we can do is talk about shows that do exist and give them attention. If anyone has any recs please reblog them!

While I don't know what race you are so I can’t be sure that my recommendations represent you, here are three recommendations that have leads who are POC. The first two have summaries from different sites, which I will link too.

One Day At A Time:

Media Type: SitCom

Show Summary: "Follows three generations of the same Cuban-American family living in the same house: a newly divorced former military mother, her teenage daughter and tween son, and her old-school mother."

(Lissa Note: This is an incredibly underrated show and I can't not say how funny and well written this show is)

The Hate U Give:

Media Type: Book with a Movie Adaptation

Book Summary: "Sixteen-year-old Starr Carter moves between two worlds: the poor neighborhood where she lives and the fancy suburban prep school she attends. The uneasy balance between these worlds is shattered when Starr witnesses the fatal shooting of her childhood best friend Khalil at the hands of a police officer. Khalil was unarmed.

Soon afterward, his death is a national headline. Some are calling him a thug, maybe even a drug dealer and a gangbanger. Protesters are taking to the streets in Khalil's name. Some cops and the local drug lord try to intimidate Starr and her family. What everyone wants to know is: what really went down that night? And the only person alive who can answer that is Starr.

But what Starr does - or does not - say could upend her community. It could also endanger her life."

(Lissa Note: I can not say how much I adore this book. It made me laugh and cry and the description did not do it justice. I think its a book that everyone that can read it, should.)

Infinity Train:

Media Type: Kids Cartoon

Summary: An anthology series where each book (season) tells a different story about passengers on a train. One of the main characters of Book Two is Native American, in Book Three one of the leads in a black woman, and Book Four’s two leads are Japanese-Canaidian and Korean-Cananidian respectively.

(Lissa Note: This show is absolutely incredible. I highly recommend it to anyone and I’ve seen many commend the rep that is in this show. It’s a very good mystery show with a good mixture od drama and comedy, though I do recommend looking for content warnings as it gets pretty dark for its target demographic)

If anyone has any more recommendations, please share them!

48 notes • Posted 2021-05-11 00:50:54 GMT

#2

You know what, I honestly dig Julian and Robin’s dynamic. It’s just one is so prehistoric and barbaric in his beliefs and the other is a neanderthal

382 notes • Posted 2021-10-28 03:32:52 GMT

#1

Things with no gay/queer rep can be progressive and groundbreaking actually and need to be part of the discussion of representation in media

38853 notes • Posted 2021-05-08 16:28:30 GMT

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#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review