#but I have the necklace! and I always wear it and it's fine

[anomaliex]

Freshman year Fabian loves his friends dearly but he still feels pressure to conform to what he’s been taught is perceived as cool and awesome and like, doesn’t openly want to be best friends with Riz because he’s a loser nerd. Which is mostly canon right? But then he grows into doing whatever the fuck he wants and making it cool because it’s him doing it later. I think that he also gets much more open in his affection towards his friends that aren’t rockstars (and at the time on the Owlbears), especially Riz, who is his best friend amongst best friends (or potentially more if you like Fabriz, but this isn’t a ship thing).

This is awesome for Fabian, but I like to think about how it feels from Riz‘s perspective? It happens suddenly. I mean it took a few sessions, and a few in game days, but he did drastically change over spring break. Which means the last day of school was "Fabian pretends not to be close to me in front of cool people. Which I get haha, that’s fine." and then the next school day afterwards was,,,,not that anymore. I think at parties and stuff Fabian would actively seek out Riz (if he’s there at all lol) after mingling with cool kids because he’s like wow that was fun I’m gonna talk to a person I like more than these guys now and Riz is just? Confused? Yes he understands what changed and this is awesome but it probably takes a while to get used to.

Fabian isn’t the biggest on self reflection, but after abandoning his macho champion persona I do think he would realise that he’s been a little shitty, sometimes. Which doesn’t really speak to what kind of person he is in my opinion, because there’s no one who acts shittier in interpersonal relationships than dumb insecure teenagers, and he fixes it! And I don’t know if he’d verbally apologise but he’d at least get his friends (again, especially Riz) a bunch of stuff and they could probably all tell what’s going on (except Gorgug who has a track record of shitty insight despite decent wisdom in theory). But also maybe he would say sorry, both being a bard and getting in touch with his elven roots would make him more, like, emotionally available I think. (Side note, I do believe most high elves are kinda stiff and suppressed etc. Look at the Abernants and associates. But Telemaine is all about poetry and really living life and self expression through dance. So I think that would positively influence Fabian.)

Oughhh Also Fabian wears the best friends forever necklace btw. It‘d probably still be mostly under his shirts or something but I swear to you he doesn’t take it off. They’re best friends forever fr (and he wore it before his no good very bad day and class change and stuff. He’s always liked it he just wouldn’t have admitted it before lol).

Oh speaking of post toxic masculinity Fabian, he should paint his nails. This is not related to anything I just like to think he would. Clear polish at least, nice and shiny :)

[glimblshanks]

.

[toytulini]

I dont know why youve leapt to assuming this post was about the workplace? the original post mentioned friends, family, and going out for drinks, and it feels a bit like a bad faith read to assume this meant for you to try to talk about weird niche TV show interests to your boss, when it seems far more likely to be a post about not letting cringe culture rule your entire life, in a time when its so common for ppl to let themselves become beholden to tiktok microtrends, and being terrified that theyll lose all their friends if anyone finds out they enjoy steven universe.

It’s crazy and fucked up that being yourself is actually the solution.

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

haven't been sad like this in a long time

[theresascove]

wanna feel you against me ₊ ⊹

rock climber!ellie williams x f!reader

your friend takes you rock climbing—and shit your belay instructing partner is hot

tw: not proofread, SMUT, modern!au, sensual flirting, sex on a floor mat, grinding, fingering (r receiving), kissing, strangers to lovers, r’s friend is a bit annoying, r is wearing a tank top, muscle kink, cum kink (if u squint)

wc ✎ 1.9k • this is based off a real experience of mine

It was a random suggestion. Rock climbing, something very fun but you feel it’s not talked about a lot. Your friend brought it up, texting if you’d like to join her to go rock climbing for no particular reason (she wanted to see her boyfriend). You had nothing else planned that day, so why not. With the admission fee of $10 an hour, it sounded like a great time.

Your friend drove, chatting the entire way about how her boyfriend’s been doing this since forever. Mainly she was getting on about how he would teach her and she was almost crushing like a middle schooler. It was cute, also a bit annoying because it was the entire conversation until you arrived to the place. You had a feeling that once she saw him, he’d leave you behind—but whatever, you’ll still have fun.

“I think he’s inside, and he’ll help us get set up. I think he said he’ll be at the desk.”

She was right, he was standing just to the right of the desk. He greeted you with a smile before hugging and kissing your friend.

“Okay, I have it in the system that you’re both on a belayer climb—“

You looked away from the rock walls at him once those words were uttered. Your friend looked to you with a smile, “I forgot that detail.”

You sighed, “I don’t know how to climb with a belayer. I only know how to with the automatic climb.”

Some pop song that was being played across the facilities filled the awkward second. Her boyfriend waved you off, “no worries, gimme a second.”

He walked back towards some office room, leaving you with your friend. She looked around, staying silent beside you. You’re feeling a little like you shouldn’t have come until you saw the woman walking behind her boyfriend. Like an old cartoon you almost felt your bottom lip drop open in a gasp.

“Here, she’ll teach you. That okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah that’s fine.”

He started to bring your friend over to get set up to climb, and she looked back at you—mouthing a sorry. She’s lucky that this woman is attractive.

The woman looked to you with a smile, reaching a hand out, “Name’s Ellie. I’ll be assisting your climb today.“

Holy fuck, her hands—the tattoo trailing down her wrist and stopping near her bicep.

Your inner turmoil was hidden deep within you when you reached a very steady hand back to meet here, voice clear and calm as you introduce yourself.

“Never done belay climbing, huh?”

She says, reaching to grab ahold of the shoe that was of the sizing you told her.

“No, never have. I’ve only done pulley.”

“Well today you’ll learn. We can take it easy, of course unless you prefer to just full send it.”

You grabbed the climbing shoes from her, “absolutely not, I have a slight issue with heights. So, I’m interested to see how this goes.”

She rests a hand on her hip, “scared of heights—? Or?”

“No,” you finished pulling the strap, “just worried if I’ll fall from a high height—like nothing will catch me.”

“No worries there, I won’t let you. What size? I’ll grab your harness.”

She walks back out with this thing that always looks a mess—similar to a ball of combined necklaces getting caught on each other. She hands it to you, laughing and reaching her hands around you to help strap it on when you struggle.

“Ever strapped before or—? You’re shit at this.”

You almost choked, “no. I mean I have, I just don’t do it often.”

“That’s crazy to me, all I’ve really ever known is rock climbing.”

She walks onto the mats with you in toll, “how long have you done it?”

“Oh man,” she sighs, looking for an empty spot, “since I was really little. Friend of mine, Joel—he taught me and I’ve had a love for it since.”

She widens her stance after grabbing a spot, “alright, you know the basics I assume? Keep your hips close to the wall. Here start climbing a little and I’ll adjust a bit.”

You gripped onto a few rocks, all of a similar color—green and climbed up a foot off the ground. Ellie reached her hand, sliding it onto your hip to adjust your posture. Her grip is stern, leaning it where she sees as right.

“Keep a hip close to the wall. Helps posture, makes it easier on your body.”

You nod, moving forward as she directs.

“Mm, good. Here I’ll get you set up now.”

She looks excited to do so, moving back to grab chalk and such. Fuck you really shouldn’t be almost imaging scenarios just from seeing her hands—her back and arm muscles flexing from the slightest movement.

The climb runs smoothly, especially with her. Her instructions are easy to follow. The little praises throughout the climb is really what motivates you. If she told you to go left, you did—you trusted her. And it was fun as hell, laughter shared when you’d mess up your left and rights or make a silly comment.

Two hours flew by and you weren’t even realizing how the facility started to grow emptier. Families, friends, children, couples—all started to leave. The windows out front, having opened up for the sunset light to shine through—now showed how much time had passed since. It was dark save for the street lights.

“Hey,” your friend called, a thin layer of sweat covering her, “they’re closing soon. You ready?”

Honestly you didn’t want to leave. Seemed Ellie didn’t want you too either.

“Im closing tonight, if you wanted to you could stay for a bit.”

The boyfriend appeared after, “perfect. Are you okay with dropping her off though? It’ll be a little late, I mean it’s already like ten.”

She waved him off, looking to you with a smile. With them gone, the two of you shifted over towards bouldering when you asked to see her climb. You especially were tired, fingers cramping from where you were pulling yourself up on the rock wall.

“What level do you usually boulder on,” you ask from where you laid on the mat—leaned back on your elbows.

She stood in front of the wall, hands up and behind her to tie her short hair back into a ponytail, “usually like 7 or 8.”

“So,” you drawled out the o sound, eyeing the curving wall for the level she described, “the purple?”

She looks back to you before angling herself on the wall. A hand on one before she moved with ease towards the next few—climbing her way around the curve until she was almost dangling on the side. It was silent as she did so. You were enthralled for many reasons. One for her agility and strength. Two for the way her back moved when she reached for another.

She fell down once she was out on the other side, reaching the ground with a raspy laugh. You smiled, licking your lips when she got close.

“Gonna try?”

“Oh there’s no way,” you point to the wall, “if you wanna see a bug squirm sure but.”

“No, you’ll do fine. I’ll help if you want.”

With how close she stood behind you, moving your hands to the right rocks and pushing your hips close to the wall—you were fighting your insane thoughts. You could see the freckles that lined her face, could smell her woody scent, her voice was clearer beside your ear. And damn something snapped in you. She felt it too.

Her eyes would linger on your chest when you leaned, you eyed her up and down—giving her a sly grin. The air changed. Her touches would linger, your voice got softer. You really wanted her and it really seemed she did too.

“Your friends said that?”

You asked, arms crossed. She finished her drink, shrugging, “I don’t know. My friends say I’m intimidating. That I give off dominant vibes.”

Whatever came over you then, you’re glad it did.

A finger slipped into her harness, tugging her just a bit closer. Nothing uncomfortable, but it did close a bit of distance.

“Are you?”

That set it off. Her eyes got dark, pupils blown as she looked down to your lips.

“Damn please let me kiss you.”

A smile and a nod later she had you on your back on the mat, hands above your head as she kissed you breathless. She tugged her white tank over her head with an arm. Her sports bra that was peeking the whole night was revealed.

You weaved your free hand into her hair, kissing her while undoing her pony tail. The rubber band fell somewhere, but that didn’t matter to you at all. You were hot, body slick and shiny. She was in a similar boat, lips open and panting—coming back down on yours with little wet sounds. You moaned so sweetly in her ear when she dragged those red lips down your neck.

“Fuck you’re so hot,” she mumbles, breathing in deep on your neck before biting.

You laugh, “says you.”

She snaps back then. Her moods switching as she places soft pecks down your body until she kissed right above your pants. You nodded, begging her.

“Don’t gotta ask me twice,” she whispers to nobody in particular as she slides them down your legs—leaving you in your underwear.

She slid her finger between your folds, breathing shakily when she sees how you shudder. You’re warm again when she hovers you again.

“Please I need you to let me fuck you. Shit you’re so hot, I need you.”

“Please Ellie—“

Her name coming off your pretty lips was enough to make her groan. She smiles like she’s high, kissing on your clit over your underwear. You gasp, a hand tugging at her hair while the other dug into the mat.

She tugged your underwear to the side, slipping a finger in. A hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes shutting. Slight embarrassment filled you knowing she’s seeing how wet you are, meanwhile Ellie’s on cloud nine—getting high off of you.

One, two, three fingers later and you have your back arched towards her. Her focus is on your face, eyes darting around to catch every shift. Eyebrows furrowing, lips dropping open, your deep breaths, nails gripping tighter on the spongy mat.

“Els, oh fuck-!”

You cried. Her pace was steady, you guess it’s from the way she works her arms out daily for hours. It pays off.

“Ellie—Els!”

She kisses your jaw, “come for me, please.”

Her body on yours, her veiny fingers working you open, her pale green eyes on yours, her little pants. Fuck you came hard. You gripped onto her tighter, actually with force to make her wince.

“Damn,” she brings her fingers out, licking them.

“Didn’t know you had this in you,” you breathe out, “you look innocent.”

She hums, “not to my friends apparently.”

Your pants are slid back on your legs by her truly. Her body sliding to lay beside you.

“Wanna go on a date?”

“Like now?”

“If you wanna,” she starts, looking away from you almost nervously.

“I’d love to.”

[kairoot]

TEETH ⌇ SJY

SINK MY TEETH IN YA— jake has been hiding a huge secret from you—he’s a vampire. after going six months without feeding, his control is slipping, especially when he's around you, sensing your blood. when you notice his strange behavior and confront him, he brushes it off. but soon, he can’t hide it anymore and reveals the truth, expecting you to be scared. instead, he’s shocked when you offer to let him feed from you.

𝓅𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 vamp!jake x 𝑓．𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 esatablished relationship , thriller (?) , suggestive 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 biting.. (jake is a vamp hello…), kissing, physical touch, etc. — ℳ𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘯’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴：layout insp by sav bb 🤍. please reblog and/or leave feedback. it is greatly appreciated !— 𝐌𝐒𝐅.

“you ready, babe?” jake asked, walking in the bedroom while still running a comb through his gelled hair.

you adjusted the necklace in the mirror, moving it around to your liking.

“almost.”

jake chuckled to himself, knowing it always took you a while to get yourself dolled up and you’d stand in the mirror until you actually liked what you were wearing.

“you look fine, baby.” he appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you close to him.

you sighed, not believing him but prepared to leave anyway. you both decided to attend the town’s halloween party tonight (you begged jake to go), seeing as you don’t really go out as much as you used to. when you and jake started dating, you both attended nearly every gathering there was. but jake had suddenly become uninterested in going out.

you wondered why, seeing as he always seemed like a people person to you but after some thought, you figured he just wanted to stay in and enjoy each other in private. you didn’t mind it, but a part of you missed the lively atmosphere.

jake still clung to you, placing his face in the crook of your neck.

“what perfume are you wearing tonight? smells so good..” he mumbled, almost slurring, taking in whatever scent it was. the smell was so intoxicating, he almost felt faint.

“i didn’t put any on yet,” you giggled, not noticing his grip on you tighten and the slight tension in his body.

now jake was confused. if you didn’t have any perfume on, why was your scent so strong? it seemed irresistible.

but once he thought about it, the answer popped in his head. before he could pull away, a searing pain shot through the front of his mouth, causing his hand to fly up to hold it.

you turned around when you heard him let out a painful groan, placing a hand on his jaw, giving him a concerned look.

“is everything okay?” you questioned, waiting for him to answer as his face contorted in discomfort.

jake had realized that it’s been nearly 6 months since he had a taste of the red liquid that kept him alive. he had been feasting as if he were human and could live off of normal meals. but he should have known that wasn’t the case. he thought he could handle it— pretend to be human. but now his control was slipping.

jake swallowed hard, stepping back from your touch. “i’m fine.” he muttered, but his voice lacked conviction, and he couldn’t meet your eyes. he took another step back from you, sitting on the edge of your bed.

you could sense that something was wrong, a strange tension in the air. “jake.. what’s going on?”

he exhaled shakily, his facade crumbling. he didn’t want to tell you, but he knew he couldn’t keep this hidden much longer. not with the way your scent was overwhelming him, making his throat burn with need.

his hands rested beside him as he gripped the bedding, trying to calm himself down. he avoided any eye contact with you, scared that he’d immediately lose all self-control.

“baby, we don’t have go this party if you’re not feeling well—“

jake shook his head, forcing a smile that didn’t really reach his eyes, “no, i’m fine. i promised you we’d go.”

you hesitated, not at all convinced by his words. his body had relaxed a bit more but you could tell he was holding back on something, “are you sure, jake?”

jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i’ll be okay, babe, honestly. i just need a distraction.” he finally looked at you, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “you’ve been looking forward to this. don’t let me ruin it for you.”

you smiled softly, walking toward him to hold brush your hand against his cheek. “alright.. but i’m driving,” you said, grabbing the car keys from the dresser. “i’m not letting you behind the wheel when you look like you’re about to faint.”

jake chuckled slightly, but there was no argument. he followed you out of the bedroom, the tension between you both still lingering. you hoped the party would actually distract him, seeing as you had a feeling that there was something he wasn’t telling you.

as you made your way to the car, you glanced at him, seeing the way his jaw clenched. he seemed so distant and you couldn’t help but worry about what the night would bring.

you both arrived at the party’s venue— a large but old mansion decked out with eerie decorations. pumpkins were scattered across the yard while cobwebs covered the corners of the porch. the sound of laughter and music was heard from the open doors of the house.

you turned the car off, sitting there for a moment before getting out. you wanted to ask jake what was really on his mind or what was bothering him.

“baby,” you called for him but no answer. he was distracted and looking at whatever was going on outside the passenger window.

“jaeyun.” your hand touched his arm this time, catching his attention. he hummed in response, turning his head to face forward now.

you shuffled closer to him, your chest pressed against the side of him.

“you know you can talk to me right?”

instead of answering, he sighed, lowering his head. if you kept asking about what was bothering him, he’d have no choice but to tell you. he hated keeping things from you especially because he knew you only wanted him to feel better and you wanted the best for him.

you leaned in to press soft kisses along his jaw, making him exhale softly. your hand made its way to his chin, turning his head so he was facing you.

you pecked his lips a couple of times before pulling away slightly to look him the eyes. they seemed darker tonight, the usual spark in them looked like it had disappeared.

"jaeyun, i mean it," you whispered against his skin. "if you're not feeling up to this, we don't have to go in. we can just head home, or even sit here for a while. i just want you to be okay."

jake closed his eyes briefly, his hand slipping down to rest on your thigh. his grip was firmer than usual, as if grounding himself with your touch. he wanted to tell you, wanted to explain the storm that was building inside him-but the words wouldn't come. not yet.

"i'm fine, really," he finally said, though even you could hear the strain in his voice.

"alright," you said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear.

"but if at any point you're feeling worse, we'll leave, okay?"

jake nodded, though you noticed the way his fingers twitched against your leg.

with that, you both stepped out of the car. the cool night air hit you immediately, the atmosphere of the party drawing you in as you made your way toward the mansion. you could hear the music more clearly now, and the sounds of people laughing and talking grew louder with every step. the porch creaked slightly underfoot as you climbed the stairs, and the glow of jack-o'-lanterns flickered in the dim light, casting long shadows across the yard.

jake walked beside you, quieter than usual. you glanced at him, still feeling that nagging worry tugging at your chest, but you didn't press him any further. not yet.

“hey, you made it!” one of your friends called out from the entrance, waving excitedly as you and jake made your way inside. you returned the wave, feeling a little lighter now that you were here.

the inside of the mansion was just as lively. the grand ballroom was filled with people dancing, their costumes a blur of color under the dim, spooky lighting. fake bats and skeletons hung from the chandeliers, and fog machines pumped mist across the floor, creating an eerie, dreamlike atmosphere.

you turned to jake, who was scanning the room, his eyes darting from person to person. you noticed the way his jaw clenched again, the same tension from earlier creeping back into his posture.

“you okay?” you asked, touching his arm.

“yeah, just… a lot of people,” he muttered, his voice tight.

you frowned, your concern growing. he usually loved being around crowds, but tonight, he seemed different—on edge.

“why don’t we grab a drink?” you suggested, hoping to distract him. “maybe that’ll help.”

jake hesitated, his eyes still fixed on the crowd, but eventually nodded. “yeah. sure.”

you led the way to the drink table, but as you walked through the sea of partygoers, you noticed the way he kept glancing around, making you think he was looking for something—or someone.

you both made your way through the crowd after getting drinks, but something about jake’s energy felt off. he was quieter than usual, not fully engaging with anyone who greeted him, his hand gripping yours just a little too tightly. every so often, you caught him looking around, almost like he was on edge, but when you asked him if everything was okay, he brushed it off with a forced smile.

“i’m fine, i’m okay” he would say, but you weren’t convinced.

the party went on for a while, but jake grew more distant with every passing minute. eventually, you both decided to leave early, the fun of the night overshadowed by jake’s strange behavior. he seemed relieved as you left the venue, though the tension between you still lingered.

when you arrived home, the atmosphere had shifted again. jake seemed distracted, his body tense as if he was trying to hold something back. you went into the kitchen to grab a snack, thinking over the night’s events.

as you were cutting up your fruit for a late snack, a sharp pain ran across your finger as you sliced it while using the kitchen knife. you hissed, dropping the knife as you instinctively pressed your other hand to the cut.

“damnit,” you muttered, holding your hand under the sink to clean it. as you did, you noticed jake’s sudden stillness. he hadn’t moved from his spot in the doorway, his eyes locked on your hand.

his gaze was fixated on the small trail of blood now dripping from your hand, his breathing heavier than before.

“it’s just a cut,” you said softly, noticing the strange look in his eyes. but as you stepped toward him, his expression darkened, a hunger creeping into his features that made your heart skip a beat.

“you should… get that cleaned up,” he muttered, his voice low and strained. “i’ll get the bandages.” he said, but his eyes never left your finger.

but before you could move, jake was suddenly closer to you, his body tense and his breathing ragged as if he was fighting against something. you could feel the heat of his presence, the way his eyes darkened as he watched the blood still pooling at your fingertip.

“jake, what’s really going on?” you asked, your voice soft but filled with concern. “you’ve been acting strange all night..”

he hesitated, his jaw clenched, but you could see the struggle in his eyes.

he wanted to pull away, but he leaned in instead, his nose brushing against your skin as he inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering shut. “your blood.. the smell is driving me insane.”

your breath caught in your throat. “..what does that mean?”

he swallowed hard, his eyes dark and filled with a hunger you’d never seen before. “i haven’t fed in months, y/n,” he confessed, his voice raw. “i tried to stay away from it, i swear.“

you stared at him, the weight of his confession settling over you like a heavy fog. “you… you’re a—?” the words felt foreign on your tongue, but jake’s pained expression told you everything you needed to know.

he nodded slowly, stepping back as if ashamed. “i didn’t want you to find out like this. i’m so sorry.”

you were quiet for a moment, processing everything. then, despite the fear and the shock coursing through you, you made a decision. “then take it.”

jake’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “w-what?”

“my blood,” you said, your voice steady even though your heart was racing. “if you need it, then take it. i trust you.”

jake shook his head. “baby, you know i can’t do that. i don’t wanna hurt you..”

“you won’t,” you whispered, moving back until you were pressed against the door, his body hovering over yours. “i know you won’t. i trust you, jake.”

his eyes searched yours, desperate and conflicted, but the hunger was too strong to resist. with a shuddering breath, he leaned in, his hands holding the sides of your neck as his lips brushed against the skin.. “tell me to stop,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

you shook your head, breath shuttering as you tilted your head back. his arms encircled your waist, pulling you closer.

“bite me,” you whispered once more, your hands gripping his shoulders as you waited to feel that small pinch.

jake’s fangs elongated as he wasted no time sinking his teeth in you. you gasped softly, the feeling being a mix a pain and ecstasy.

a deep groan of relief escapes his lips, the satisfaction of finally feeding without blood overwhelming him. his grip tightened on your hips as he pulled you closer, nearly losing control (again).

jake pulled away before he could drink any more, his lips tinted red before his tongue darted out to clean it up. he pecked the bite mark, hoping it would soon feel better.

you clung to him, almost hypnotized by the feeling of his teeth against your skin. he looked in your eyes, chuckling at the dazed look you gave him.

“you okay, princess?” he asks as his hand brushed away the strands of your hair.

you nodded, way too distracted to even give him a verbal response.

“c-can you do that again?”

🖇️. @wonsdoll @mimismenu @yourssincerely-mimi @riribelle @nerdimoo @sngleehee @elysianiki — only accepting 40 people.

🝮. @k-films

[seiwas]

you're the reason (i got a weakness) | miya atsumu

wc: 2.9k

summary: it’s not that atsumu doesn't like you dressing up like this—in fact, he loves it. just not when you're fighting. not when he can't even call you "baby".

contains: post-timeskip atsumu, arguments and atsumu feeling really sorry, flashbacks, uses the nickname “baby” & “my love”, reader is described as “pretty” and wears heels, hurt/comfort.

a/n: atsumu isn’t a sucky boyfriend he just gets carried away sometimes. song inspo: can you blame me? - kehlani, lucky daye.

part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: making yourself look good to feel good (your partner has something to say to you)

sponsored by @itskilau and @tasoyoru for the @ficsforgaza initiative. please check it out and support if you can!

“Bab—”

Atsumu lingers by your bathroom door, eyes drooping lower and sadder than they ever have. The steam makes the bleached strands of his hair cling to his forehead, his thick eyebrows now damp and flattened. 

You sigh, the big, heavy, and deep kind, shoulders dropping as you clasp the lock of your necklace.

He stares. 

That’s his job. You always ask him to do it the moment you step out of the shower. 

His lip trembles, eyes watery.

“Not now, Atsumu.”

You walk past him as you adjust the towel around your chest, your arm brushing against his. It’s a small thing, a sensation ingrained so deeply into the past two years you’ve been together, but he feels it like it’s the first time you ever touched him—and in a way, it is. Since yesterday, at least. 

The silence that trails after you is so deafeningly still, he thinks he can hear his heart breaking. 

“Atsumu,” your voice rings. 

Who the hell is “Atsumu”? 

He’s not supposed to be “Atsumu” to you. He’s “Tsum.” He’s “baby.” He’s “my love.”

Anything but “Atsumu.”

When you close the door of your walk-in closet to change, the metaphorical volleyball of hope floating right into the palm of his hand misses and drops straight to the floor. 

It started with volleyball, as all things with Atsumu do. 

You’d met him at the rise of his career, just a few years of him being pro. You were friends first, but if you ask anyone around Atsumu, they’d tell you you were never just a friend to him; he’d invited you to all his games and practice matches, spent a bit more time in the locker rooms before going out for dinner with you and the rest of the team. 

Osamu has the receipts of all the extra orders of onigiri Atsumu started adding to his regular weekly subscription since meeting you. 

Your first ‘date’ was Atsumu treading the very fine line between teaching you how to play volleyball and teaching himself self-control. Keeping an eye on the ball is hard enough, what more when he has to resist staring at you in very cute volleyball shorts too? 

As MSBY’s success skyrocketed, so did Atsumu’s—brand deals left and right, solo work trips during off seasons, commercials; the whole thing. When Atsumu wasn’t training, he was either traveling  or attending events and photoshoots. Always on-the-go. Moving. 

And he knew you understood, knew you knew him and his tendencies to overwork; knew him, and his habit of getting stuck inside his own world. You’d driven to late practices with bento boxes to share, and you’d packed his gym bag more than a few times, brought in extra clothes without him having to say a word.

You’ve managed his lifestyle better than anyone could.

But, Atsumu has a bad habit of promising more than he should, of serving white lies just as easily as he does volleyballs behind the service line. 

“Won’t take long, baby. Swear it,” he holds on to the wall by your door, slipping his feet inside his dress shoes. “Pick ya up at 6:00?” 

He’d winked at you then, kissed you between your eyebrows and nose before sneaking one more right at that spot underneath your ear.

What he’d give to be able to do that right now. 

“Okay,” you giggle, swatting his chest as you nod, “better hurry then, you might be late.” 

When Atsumu remembers that moment, the way you’d agreed so doubtlessly, he hates himself even more. You trusted him, have trusted him so wholeheartedly this entire time, so maybe you’re right—

“Would it hurt for you to just be honest?” 

—Atsumu has no excuse standing you up on the date he promised you weeks ago all because he lost track of time in some brand event, listening to a potential collaboration on volleyball shoes. Atsumu has no excuse agreeing to “some drinks” right after just to meet the executives of the company. 

There are meetings for those things, ones that can be scheduled and agreed upon. Ones that don’t compromise or add on to the already long list of missed dates with you. 

“I know you’re busy and I understand,” you sigh, turning the knob of the kitchen stove as you heat up the kettle, “you know I do.” 

He stands before you a quarter past 11:00 p.m., cologne long faded and the smell of alcohol spilled on his sleeve. The kitchen island stands like a net on the court, the ball being sent over to his side. 

“Baby, I—”

He passes it back.

You turn from the stove, face fresh and hair tied into a messy low bun as you look at him—how could he have ever stood this–you–up?

You take the ball, “Can I finish what I have to say first?” 

He nods. The kettle begins whizzing.

“I’m happy and so, so proud that you have all these opportunities,” you reach for the cupboard above head to grab a mug. The box of tea bags sits to your right, a mix of Lemon Balm and Chamomile that Atsumu swears keeps his anxieties at bay during the night. “But at least tell me if you can’t make it.” 

You tear open a tea packet, dangling it inside the mug. The kettle whistles, and he feels the onset of a spike. 

“Please don’t keep my hopes up every time.” 

You turn back towards the stove, turning the burner off as you pour in the steaming water inside the mug. 

“Baby, I swear, they just–they started talkin’ ‘bout these shoes, ‘n I thought t’was cool, ‘n the execs–they said the execs’d be there in the afterparty, and—” he breathes, “won’t happen next time, baby. ‘M so—” 

“Can I really believe you next time?”

You approach the kitchen island slowly, holding the piping hot mug carefully as you set it down in front of him. 

Atsumu stood you up on your date, and you still made him tea. 

You hold his stare for a brief moment before you walk away, sadness and disappointment all-in-one.

It is now that Atsumu knows, he’s fucked up.

The ball lands on his side of the court. 

And so, he’s spent this entire day trying to make it up to you—breakfast in the morning, right before training (which he absolutely tanked because all he could think about was how sad you looked the night before); flowers that he brought home after lunch time, just to find the apartment empty. It’s only after a full text thread and three missed calls to your phone that he finally gets a response.

“Nail appointment. Going out tonight,” is your reply (using speech-to-text too, he suspects, with how formal it sounds). 

Which is fine and dandy to him; you should do everything that makes you feel better after he practically took you for granted. It’s just—he hasn’t even said sorry yet, can’t even call you “baby”, can’t even touch you even though he really, really, really wants to. 

And now, with you closing the door on him while you’re changing—there’s nothing else he can do, really, but to walk away and give you some space. 

He shifts his feet, dragging them lightly against the wooden floors of your bedroom.

The moment he hears the door of your walk-in closet slide open, he hurriedly sits down on the edge of your bed, acting as if he wasn’t just anxiously pacing, waiting for you to come out. 

He feels like shit, if he’s being honest—like how he does when he misses a serve; if not, worse. 

You look good. Make-up done to only emphasize the features he loves (which is your entire face, really), and your outfit perfectly accentuating the dips and curves of your body. 

He follows you as you exit the room, tailing after you like a lost puppy. When you stop by your entryway, all he can do is watch as you bend down to put on the straps of your heels. And it sucks, because if you weren’t fighting, Atsumu would be right by your feet, crouched low so that you wouldn’t have to. 

It’s pathetic and a little helpless of him to just stand and stare in the middle of your living room. He should say something at least, but, you just look so good, and his throat feels dry; his heart all achy and stomach twisty. 

He doesn’t want to be away from you. 

And it’s not that he doesn’t like you going out looking like this—he loves it. But as soon as you step out the door with a soft “don’t wait up for me” mumbled from your glossed lips, Atsumu can only taste bitter regret at the fact that he wishes he were coming with you. 

He couldn’t even give you a goodbye kiss. 

The blond groans, pulling at his hair as he rests his elbows down on the kitchen counter. 

“Don’t wait up for me,” you said. As if he can even sleep without you around. 

.

.

.

The hours go by but they feel like days. Atsumu’s done every possible thing he can do in this apartment and it still hasn’t breached 11:00 p.m.. He’s cleaned down the kitchen (twice!) and arranged the food inside the fridge like those ‘stock up my fridge with me’ tiktoks he’s seen on Sakusa’s phone. The clothes on his side of the closet have been arranged by color and length, with all the ones in his dresser refolded, Marie Kondo style. He’s also pretty sure he’s scrubbed the bathroom down enough that you can probably see your reflection on the tiles of the damn thing. The laundry baskets for both your clothes are now empty, and he’s changed the bedsheets too and—

He’s still restless. The numbers on the clock taunt him, moving up agonizingly slowly. He can’t stop looking at the time, itching for you to come home. 

Atsumu is sorry, so so so incredibly so, because you’re right―he hasn’t been fair to you at all, and he needs you to know that he knows it, too. 

His eyes go over the clock again, only a minute having passed since the last time he checked it. 

Is this how you felt? Every time you waited for him to come home for a date he promised you? 

He squeezes his eyes; it hurts him just thinking about it. 

That’s it, he decides, grabbing his phone and wallet as he walks out the door. 

. 

.

.

Atsumu doesn’t check your location often (maybe only a few times). It’s not a trust thing, he swears; it’s just for when he wants to make sure you’re somewhere safe, or in a place he can reach you should you need him there. 

And, you clearly don’t need him right now, but, Atsumu is a little selfish, he admits. 

Sitting at home with all his regret feels worse than seeking you out to beg for your forgiveness, whether you want him to or not. 

He’s barely dressed for the venue as he steps inside the bar, a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt with those fashionable Birkenstock clogs on. A few people seem to recognize him, tilting their heads and murmuring among themselves as he walks through door, but none of them approach him, thankfully, except for a server asking if he needs assistance. 

His eyes scan the tables first, searching for any semblance of the outfit he’d seen you leave in earlier. The dim lights make it increasingly difficult for him to look for your properly as he squints his eyes some more, narrowing his vision to the people at the front bar this time. It’s after the fourth person he dismisses that he feels himself getting desperate, nearly turning towards the server beside him to ask for help.

Until he spots you—tucked in the corner of the front bar, sitting on the barstool with your legs crossed as you swirl around your drink. 

You look bored, and a little sad, chin resting in your hand as you lean your elbow on the table. 

He frowns, thanking the server on the side as he makes his way to you slowly. You barely notice him as you bring out your phone, tapping on the screen as you stare at it almost longingly―a photo of you and him some time ago after one of his games. He knows it well, can still remember that day so clearly: when he became a PR nightmare because he couldn’t help but announce your relationship by kissing you in front of everybody. 

It makes his chest hurt. 

Then, you swipe it open, and he’s close enough now to be able to catch a glimpse of what’s on your screen: your text thread with him, his last message being, “Did you make it safely?” 

(You pout, eyes pricking with tears. You didn’t reply to him then because you weren’t ready to fully talk to him yet, still upset and disappointed. 

It was easy to make yourself feel better by dressing up and stepping out of the apartment earlier, the promise of good drinks and good company awaiting your arrival; you couldn’t think about how you felt if you were busying yourself with others. But now that all of those feelings have died down and most of your friends have started chatting up other people they’ve found, it’s beginning to hit you all at once just how much you still prefer Atsumu’s company more than anything else.

Your fingers hover over your text box, typing and deleting. Typing and deleting.) 

He’s two stools away from you now, and he can barely contain it―

“Baby,” his voice trembles, unsteady. 

Recognition fills you as you turn to the sound, half-confused at whether you’re hearing things; whether―

(“Tsum,” you mutter, eyes catching a pair of familiar warm brown staring back at you. His bottom lip quivers, the embodiment of a dam starting to crack, vibrating.

Your emotions are a mess, your breath on hold as you feel tears welling up in your lashline too. You still feel upset, still a little sad, and a tiny bit disappointed, but what coats them all is a sense of relief because—)

―he’s here, standing in front of you like he just rolled out of the house with barely enough time to get dressed (which, you’re sure is exactly how things went), and you’re sliding off the bar stool in the prettiest outfit, looking like the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

“‘M so sorry,” he breathes out, stepping closer as he grabs your hand, “Don’t ever wanna make y’feel like that again.” His knee gives way as he starts sinking to the floor, “I won’t do that anymore―” 

“Tsum,” you try to call his attention.

He’ll beg for your forgiveness whether you like it or not. 

(The interaction is causing nearby tables to look, murmurs and whispers in your periphery as you catch vague sentences here and there. He still is a public figure, after all.) 

But Atsumu is unaware, looking at you and you alone as he pleads, “No, please hear me out first. I promise I’ll tell ‘em they can speak ‘ta―” 

“Tsum,” you squeeze his hand, whispering more firmly as you try to pull him up. 

“Baby, please. Gimme the chance ‘ta show ya that I―”

(You look around and notice even more eyes on the two of you, fond looks on their faces as they prepare their phones for what seems like something momentous. Then it hits you, how this looks―)

“Tsum, please stand up,” you tug at his hand strongly, urging him to stand. His eyebrows furrow as he obliges, only comprehending why when you explain it to him softly, “people were starting to think you were about to propose.” 

He pauses for a moment, a slight, “Oh,” as he ponders on it. “Well, if that’s what’ll prove it t’ya, then—” 

You roll your eyes, the corners of your lips curling slightly as you hit his shin with your foot and squeeze his hand again, “Don’t joke about things like that.” 

Well, it’s not the first time it’s crossed his mind, if he’s being honest. 

He sighs, sitting on the stool beside you as he rubs his thumb over your hand again, bringing it close to his lips to kiss softly. 

“‘M really sorry, baby,” he mumbles against your skin before moving your hand over his heart. “Don’t ever want ya feelin’ like this again.” 

“I know,” you give him a small smile, patting down some of the strands of his hair that stick out, “you didn’t have to come out here though, you know. I was about to go home soon, anyway.” 

“Can ya blame me? Seein’ ya off like that?” he grips your hand tighter as his voice softens. “Y’re too pretty to be sad,” he plays with your fingers, intertwining them with his.

You hit his shin again, feeling shy. You always do when Atsumu likes to sweet-talk you. 

“Do ya forgive me?” he asks after some time, as you take the last few sips of your drink. 

You hum, looking him in the eyes as you nod, pouting, “I don’t like being mad at you, you know.” He lights up, beaming, but you add on, “We still have to talk about it properly, though. Later, when we get back.” 

He nods in agreement, holding your hand as you slide off the barstool, guiding you out of the bar and into the car. 

. 

.

.

(You both do talk about it properly, and the next time Atsumu promises you a date, he blocks it out of all of his calendars, sending the date to his manager even, just to be extra sure.) 

a/n: this has been such a long time coming, i'm sorry to those who waited! i hope you enjoyed even though this simmered with me for way too long 😭 i love writing atsumu a little lovesick but i also think he deserves someone who is equally as in deep as he is 🥺

thank you notes: to 🍧 anon for helping me figure out "what would make you mad at atsumu?" and to @ceroseis and @mieiri for always listening to my shenanigans pre-writing!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[rainydayathogwarts]

Hi! Love your writing!

Could I request a fic with George x reader x Fred, or poly!Marauders x reader, either is fine, and a reader that loves to wear necklace because the boys always pull on it to grab her attention???

Necklace - Poly!Marauders

i love it. literally read the request and began making scenarios in my head. warnings: allusions to sex, suggestive 1k wc

The first time it happened, the action had come from an impatient Sirius, waiting for you to finish revising for your upcoming assessment. His restless whispers of your name and tireless poking had gone ignored. You were too used to it. However, when Sirius spotted the new addition of jewellery you bore around your neck, a lightbulb lit up in his mind. A loud gasp slipped out of your mouth when his finger curled around the necklace, tugging at it hard enough to pull your neck down slightly. Sirius waited for your reaction: would he get yelled at, or would you finally give him your attention. You turned your head to the side, looked at Sirius with a shocked look on your face. "Sirius." The exasperated yet amused sigh of his name had the boy smirking.

"Can I finally have your attention now?" With an arm now draped across your shoulders, you let the boy lean into you, pressing his lips against yours. Placing your pen on the table, you cupped Sirius's face, letting his tongue slide into your mouth, deepening the kiss. He moaned quietly, the sound muffling in your mouth, and adjusted himself to hover over you slightly — something he only dared to do in the darkest corner of the library, otherwise you'd have his head. You parted from the kiss panting, looking up at your boyfriend with complete amazement, a laugh bubbling in your chest. "Sirius get down!" You whisper yelled at him, pushing his chest away from you. "Fine." The boy replied, with a grin too big for him to be up to any good. Sirius slipped onto his knees in front of you, parting your legs only for you to immediately shut them. "Absolutely not." You scolded, a hand tightly gripping his collar in a poor attempt to pull him back on the sofa booth. The boy pouted, climbing back next to you and pecking your lips a few times whilst saying in between kisses "Well at least come with me to the dorm."

And you had.

Sirius considered it a successful mission, laying down with you in his bed, getting your well-deserved rest after such intense events that had occured. He stroked your hair, watching your peaceful expressions while you slept, not having to worry about any of your boys. When the door opened and James and Remus had entered, stopping in their tracks at the view in Sirius's bed, he had grinned widely, telling them "You guys have to hear this." while James moaned "Without me?"

Remus had scolded Sirius at the time, saying something about 'being careful' and 'not hurting you', but now, looking at where you sat next to him in the common room, chatting with Marlene, he became curious. He rested his head on your shoulder, watching your face, becoming giddy at the hand you rested on his thigh, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to be the centre of your attention now. Sirius and James sat on the opposite couch to you two, giving each other a look. This was unusual for Remus. The tall boy hesitantly reached up and tugged at the chain hanging on your chest. You barely felt the pull, but it was enough for you to avert your attention to him. "Hey, you." You mumbled, cocking your head to the side. The tired boy smiled softly, returning the greeting. You reached a hand up, brushing long strands of hair away from his eyes. "Want some attention, do you?" You mumbled, opening your palm face up on Remus's thigh for him to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Remus nodded, asking shyly "Can we go on a walk or something?" You hummed, standing up and excusing yourself from the conversation, guiding Remus out of the common room by the hand. Sirius's trick really did work.

Staring at yourself in the mirror a couple of weeks later, you began thinking. Sirius and Remus had taken advantage of the Christmas gift from your parents, using it to grasp your attention, but James hadn't. You hummed — Sirius had definitely told both of the boys about it, so what was stopping James?

It only happened with him later that day, when you were in the boys' dorm, feet kicked up on Sirius' lap with Remus sat by your side. James came storming through the door to their dorm, kicking his shoes off his feet and pulling frustratedly at his tie. The three of you sat up straighter, alarmed by the boy's irritation. You had a feeling that if anything else vexed him, he might burst into tears. James didn't greet any of you until he'd put on a comfortable jumper and joggers, walking over to Sirius to press a kiss on his forehead before doing the same with Remus, who placed a caring hand on his back. James strode over to you, hooking his finger around your necklace and pulling you upwards from where you sat.

Your eyes widened when James didn't let go of your precious necklace, in fear that it might snap. However, James only continued tugging at it, forcing you to stand from your seat until he was close enough to press his lips against yours. When you finally stood straight, throwing your arms over James's muscular shoulders and tangling a hand in his luscious waves, he secured his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground just slightly. You broke the kiss, gasping out James's name as Sirius teasingly wolf-whistled — a risk to take given the boy's mood.

James returned you to the ground, but didn't loosen his grip on you, instead digging his head into the crook of your neck as he muttered "Haven't seen you all week. Could only think about you all of detention." Your eyebrows furrowed with worry, and you asked "Who gave you detention?" "Slughorn. Could've been with you instead." You smiled, flattered by his words, and stage whispered "What to cuddle for a bit? We don't have to invite the other two." Mock complaints were immediately thrown by Remus and Sirius, who finally scoffed "We can also cuddle without you guys!"

You let James drag you to his bed, laying down so you can hold him in his arms before making eye contact with Remus, who finally stood up, walking over to you both, and leaned down to press a kiss on James's forehead. "We're here for you if you need anything, mate."

[barcaatthemoon]

familia || alexia putellas x reader ||

how alexia realizes that you're the one.

"amor, what is taking you so long?" alexia huffed as she tried walking into her bedroom. her body hit the door, which didn't budge an inch since you had locked it. alexia groaned, pounding on the door until you walked over to open it. "what is taking you so long? if you do not hurry up, we will miss dinner completely."

"don't rush me, i'm almost done," you told her. alexia whined as she leaned against the doorframe. you looked ready, which was the frustrating part. however, alexia knew how you were, and you'd be insistent that something was missing.

"well, you could have fooled me," alexia said sarcastically. you swatted at her shoulder for the comment. alexia was unbothered, aside from a few dramatic noises as you sifted through your jewelry to find the perfect piece.

all of alexia's whining would be over the moment that she saw what you were looking for. the only issue was, you had entrusted alexia to put it back in your jewelry case after it was picked up from the cleaner's. several of your pieces were not in their rightful places, which meant that alexia had definitely been in the case, but you couldn't find the necklace.

"what are you even looking for?" alexia asked you. you held up your hand to silence her. you needed every bit of your concentration to find this necklace. you had met alexia's mother and sister separately many times, but rarely would both of them be together while meeting you. there were always game days, but those meetings tended to be rather brief.

"here it is!" you exclaimed as you pulled it up from a spot opposite to where you had asked alexia to put it. you were very particular about where your things went, something that alexia often made fun of you for. your spaces in her apartment were often much more chaotic, but you swore up and down that it was all perfectly arranged.

"a-are you sure that you want to wear that one?" alexia asked as she watched you put it on in the mirror. you were beyond certain that you wanted to wear this necklace that alexia had bought you. it was a choker style necklace with an 'a' charm in the center, something that she had bought after a lengthy discussion about how open you were going to be about your relationship. alexia wanted to keep things more private, but compromised with the necklace.

"of course i do. i like to wear it whenever i can," you told her. alexia smiled as she walked over to pull you into her arms. she pressed several kisses to the side of her face, all of them trailing towards your neck. "now, let's go. come on, we don't want to keep your mother waiting."

…

alexia knew to expect eli fretting over her. it always happened during their monthly family dinners. alba usually showed up earlier or even the night before, so eli had plenty of time to fuss over her youngest. alexia tended to be a bit busy, so she couldn't stick around as much.

"oh look at you, far too skinny. alexia, aren't you feeding this poor woman? you and i both know that i made sure you could cook properly before you left this house!" eli was quick to push past alexia and straight towards you.

you laughed nervously as eli pulled you further into the house. your recent weight loss was less because of alexia's lack of cooking skills and more due to the coaches and trainers putting you on a diet. in fact, alexia had been vehemently against it whenever it was first brought up at training. if anything, you swore that alexia had been trying to soften you up in her spare time.

"mami, i swear it is not me. the coaches have put (y/n) on a cut," alexia explained. you thought that she sounded a bit frantic, but you didn't think anything of it.

"well that is just stupid. she's already practically a skeleton." eli prodded at your ribs, causing you to chuckle a little.

"i promise eli, i am fine. a little cranky, but ale takes it with a smile and is very patient with me," you said. eli seemed to relax a little at that, but she still seemed a bit unhappy.

"well, why don't you take a seat at the table while alexia and alba bring the food out," eli told you. she led you over to the table where two glasses of wine were already waiting. alexia pouted as she shuffled into the kitchen to find alba drinking something a little stronger.

"mami's been so excited about (y/n) joining us. she didn't even tell me that i haven't been eating enough," alba huffed.

"at least mami loves her," alexia reasoned. she was feeling a little jealous at her girlfriend taking up all of her mother's attention, but alexia was more than happy that you got on with her family well.

"she loves her so much that she's forgotten about her actual children," alba grumbled. alexia swiped the bottle out of alba's hands, taking the last couple of drinks for herself in one big swig. the bottle was dropped into the trash before the girls grabbed the food and brought it out.

unsurprisingly, eli piled food onto your plate, despite your reminders that you were on a cut. alexia promised to finish whatever you couldn't, despite her plate being bigger than yours. while they had you on a cut, alexia was on a bulk. she couldn't spend as much of her training with the team as she would have liked, so she had spent that extra time lifting, which you were very appreciative of.

"so, i was looking, and there's a play on one of your upcoming off weekends. it's right after you get back from london. i was wondering if you wanted to go," alba said as she turned towards you and alexia.

"that sounds fun," you told her.

"but we might go out. it's been a while since i've had time to take (y/n) out. i was thinking ibiza," alexia said. alba frowned as she turned fully towards you, her subtle way of letting alexia know that she wasn't invited.

"well, we've got a pretty nice vacation in france coming up in the summer. besides, alba and i have been talking about going out to see another play. we had so much fun the first time." despite how gentle you were being, alexia knew whenever she had been rejected. you were choosing to spend time with alba over her, which was a nice thought, but alexia hated it. she no longer wanted you and alba to be friends with each other now that it was taking up her time with you.

"i mean, you do whatever you want," alexia huffed. she crossed her arms over her chest as she turned her attention to her food. alba was quick to come in and distract you from alexia's little sulking session. she knew that you'd go back on your agreement to go to the play, even though you had been wanting to for months now, and alexia hated going to the theater with you.

…

"alright, you take good care of yourself, nena. don't let that one get you down too much, okay?" eli pulled you into a tight hug. you nodded, thanking her for inviting you to dinner before you went over to alba. alexia and her mother spent a little longer on their goodbyes, but you were sure it was just because eli's attention had been on you for a good portion of the night.

"bye albs, i'll see you for brunch?" you asked. alba pulled you into a hug as she shook her head.

"sleep in, cook for alexia, she needs you more than i do," alba said. the two of you looked at alexia, who looked very pensive. you were afraid that she thought dinner hadn't went well as she pulled you away from alba and towards the car. you weren't surprised when alexia just shoved her sister away as they muttered their goodbyes to each other.

"i had fun tonight. thank you for letting me come with you." you knew that you sounded nervous, but you couldn't help it. alexia pulled onto the road and kept her focus on it. the car ride home was silent, something that only made you feel worse. alexia didn't talk to you until the two of you were dressed in comfortable clothes and just sitting in the living room together.

"te amo," alexia said as she placed her hand on your thigh. you glanced over at her. alexia had an unreadable expression on her face, the same one that she always did whenever she was rewatching old games. "my family does too. mami would adopt you if she could, and alba really likes spending time with you. i didn't think that i could get that again, not so quickly."

"you're not mad about tonight?"

"i couldn't be mad about my family loving you. if anything, i am elated because it means that every feeling that i have about you is right. i could never love somebody who didn't get along with my family. i can't wait for the day whenever we get to bring little babies with us to my mami's for the weekend."

"babies?" you questioned. alexia nodded as she moved to sit on your lap. it was a rarity that alexia got like that with you, so you just sat back and accepted it. "how many exactly?"

"two, maybe three. three little putellas girls. one of them will have your eyes, and even if she smiles like me, they'll still light up like the sun when she does. the second, she'll just like me, stubborn and maybe a little too serious, but she'll love like you. she'll love so much like you that her heart will break, but we'll be there to pick up the pieces every single time until her sisters are old enough to help. the third one, she'll look like you, and i won't ever be able to tell her no." alexia had a dreamy look on her face as she told you about the little family that she had planned in her head. you had never thought of a family like that, but alexia was doing a good job of convincing you.

"you know, i'll have to have your last name first. unless you're going to carry," you told her. alexia hummed thoughtfully as she thought about it. if alexia carried, she'd have to retire, but you could still bounce back from a pregnancy.

"then tomorrow, we go ring shopping," alexia stated. you wanted to make a quip about her actually asking, but you already knew there as no use in her proposing. you had wanted to marry alexia for a couple of weeks now, but you didn't want to push her before she was ready. "maybe if mami and alba can make it, we can go to the courthouse."

"even if they can't, i'd still marry you." you leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek, unsurprised when alexia turned her head so that you caught her lips.

"if that's the case, then we'll go after breakfast tomorrow. i don't want to wait any longer than i have to in order to make you mine."

[ifwdominicfike]

𝐛𝐟!𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

how chris would be if he was your boyfriend ..

bf!chris who’s love language is definitely physical touch, he always has to touch you in some sort of way. “chris- im trying to do my hair please stop!” you huffed as chris sat on the bathroom counter, pulling at your belt loops to come closer “m’sorry ma, you’re just so pretty like this..” his hands caressing your skin softly “fine, y-you can stay here just keep those hands to yourself” “i won’t make any promises pretty girl”

bf!chris who would 100% have a shared playlist with you or would send you songs that reminded him of you “y/n did you listen to those songs i sent you?” a cheesy grin placed across his face “yes chris, i listened to all 10 of the- baby im literally right here why did you just send me another one!?”

bf!chris who will always find some kind of way to match with you “should i wear the pink one or the red one?” you say holding up the two different color tops “WAIT, i have the perfect hat for the pink one” your stare at him in confusion “what no- im not wearing a hat?” “no ma i meant for ME, my pink hat matches perfectly with that shirt. wear that one pleasee”

bf!chris who loves staying in with you, quality time is a big thing for him so even sitting in silence next to you is enough for him. “are you sure you didn’t wanna go? you seemed pretty excited to go with matt and nick so-“ you’re stopped by chris’s hand resting against your cheek “ma, they’ll be fine without me for a couple hours okay? stop worrying, im here with you s’all i’ll ever need” he kissed your temple and went back to watching the movie that was playing, leaving you with rosy cheeks and smile never leaving your face.

bf!chris who is the biggest softie ever, he would never admit in front of anyone but you though. he loves snuggling up against you, sometimes he goes under shirt because he’s “cold”. he’s a sucker for head scratches too, sometimes he’s shy to ask for them because he doesn’t wanna seem “clingy” but you’re never one to judge or say no to your sweet boy.

bf!chris who would definitely spoil you no matter what, he caught you staring at a skirt for a little longer than normal? its yours. you mention a necklace that you thought was pretty? its yours. literally anything you want he automatically gets it for you “ooh chris look at this shirt, the lace is so pretty don’t you think?” “yeah baby, its gorgeous can i see it?” he immediately hangs onto it while pulling out his card “go ahead ma y’want anything else? anything you want its yours”

bf!chris who makes sure you know how much he loves and cares for you. he never wants you to even think for a second that he doesn’t love you. you could be doing something so simple and he’ll come up from behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist while saying the sweetest words. “i love you so much sweetheart” “you’re all i’ll ever need, no one else can come above you.”

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

i was gonna add more but i got lazy.. i need to finish my other drafts to add onto my masterlist 😞😞 but if anyone wants to be on my taglist just comment!! ok bye now, love youu ᥫ᭡

[schoenpepper]

Hi! I’ve got a rq but it’s kind of elaborate and might be sensitive to u so if u don’t wanna do it that’s fine!

But can I have some hcs of Deuce, Jack, Leona, Vil, Epel, Malleus, Silver, and Lilia with a reader who lived with a single parent all their life (whom they were very close with) who passed away not long before they came to TW, but they never said anything about it. So as a way to grieve they wear their parent’s shirts/jackets, accessories and fragrances because they’re all they have of said parent.

Vil sees that some of their clothes doesn’t quite fit their size or style, Jack and Leona can smell a very faint lingering scent of another on their shirts, Deuce notices them playing with their necklace frequently, etc.

I Still Feel You, I Still See You, I Still Hear You

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, sad things, dead parents ig, platonic-ish, short

A/N: No need to be considerate nonnie my parents are fine haha. Finished this while trying to review for my accounting quiz tomorrow...uh, later this afternoon...?

Masterlist

Deuce might be a little...denser, regarding the situation.

However, he's not that tactless.

Ahaha he so is

Forgive him, he always means well. That sentence doesn't make it any better when he brings up the necklace you can never seem to stop fiddling with.

"My mom gave it to me before she died."

Mmh baby gets shut up realll quick.

Do you...want to share his mom?

Pardon the wording. He really means well.

So do you want to come home with him for the holidays?

Jack has a good sense of smell, so it's a bit jarring when the usual scent you have on you is replaced by a musky sort of cologne that you were unlikely to ever wear.

He asks an innocent question.

You give an innocent answer.

"It was my dad's cologne. It's his death anniversary today."

He pats your shoulder to express his condolences.

He doesn't usually do this but, do you want ice cream? His treat.

If you insist really hard, he'll let you cuddle his tail as an apology for his "insensitive" question (it wasn't really but ok)

Leona is very emotionally and socially sensitive, so he'll have a few guesses in mind already.

Your leather jacket always smells faintly of smoke.

He doesn't ask about it. Actively wards off people who makes comments about it, too.

You'll be the one to bring it up when you trust him enough.

"It was my dad's. The only thing salvaged from the fire."

Awkward.

Tsk, you're so troublesome.

Pulls you under his blanket for lots of grumpy cuddles.

He's not good with sappy comforting stuff, so you'll have to make do with his presence. He'll sit by you and listen, 'kay?

Vil is a lot of things, but he's not inconsiderate, and he's certainly not stupid.

When he first sees you wearing that ungodly sweater, soft and knitted and in such a drab color that it completely washed you out, he does get a little curious.

You have better fashion sense than that, potato.

But he notices the way you seem to sink into the fabric, eyes dazed and looking out into the distance.

"It was my mom's."

Oh. Alright.

Now he's a bit embarrassed.

Hm, maybe if you pair the sweatshirt with these pants... and do your hair like this...

You can mourn and look gorgeous while doing it, darling.

Still, he won't force anything if you don't want to.

Epel thinks the ring on your finger is really neat. He's not really one for girly things, but to be honest, he does find it a little bit cute.

Not that...he likes cute things...

Anyway, where did you get it from? Gee, you sure do stare at it a lot.

"My mom left it for me when she died."

Grim topic, but alright.

Likely the type to try and steer the conversation away to some other topic after apologizing for bringing it up.

Says your eyes are pretty. Accidentally.

He'll blush and deny it and apologize for saying weird things.

Idia accidentally snagged your watch on some cable wires while you were in the bathroom.

Total whoops. No problem, he got it out ez

Ugh, why are you panicking, dude? The watch is fine, y'know?

"Sorry, it's just, it's the last thing I have of my dad."

Okaaaay he'll go die in a ditch now tnx

He definitely feels like crap. Not to mention, he's also someone who lost someone super important to him, who was his world and best friend.

Buries himself in his bed and dies.

Silver isn't one to pry, so at normal times, he's unlikely to mention anything about your rather gaudy earrings that don't seem to fit your persona.

It's your choice, anyway. He won't judge.

Still, he has to mention something about it when it catches onto a tablecloth you were napping on. (he won't judge your napping choices either don't worry)

"Is it broken?! No, it was my mom's, I can't..."

He pauses a little bit and helps you untangle it from the tablecloth.

Assures you it's not broken.

He won't ask unless you want him to.

Lilia is all too aware of loss and everything it entails. Call it intuition, or maybe something connected to his UM.

He knows that keychain of yours has a story behind it.

Some punks snatch it off your bag as a prank when you're not looking, and Lilia gets some exercise.

"Thank you so much! It's something my dad gave before..."

There's no need, really.

Everyone has a story, and he won't pry into yours.

Taglist:

@yummyyummyinmytumny @fsh1 @lemon-koii

[cobrakaisb]

"is that my shirt?"

summary: a collection of the various times you and luke get caught wearing each other’s clothes OR three times you denied wearing luke’s clothes and the one time he completely owned it.

word count: 1.6k

featuring: 3+1, aphrodite!reader, crop top luke & the headcanon that each cabin has cutsey chb themed shirts

one: luke’s gray zip-up

the dining pavilion is always the quietest in the morning. at least it normally is, but you overslept today. somehow you missed all your alarms, the ruckus of all your siblings waking up, and silena and drew’s fight over whether or not the other stole their makeup. so no one really blames you for walking into the pavilion well after the start of breakfast. 

“could you at least look a little more put together?” carmen, your sister who values tidiness in all aspects of her life, asks as you take one of the only open seats at the table. 

you look down at your outfit: high-top converse, denim shorts, a camp half-blood shirt, your camp necklace, and a gray zip-up to combat the unexpected chill of the morning. not too shabby, you thought, especially considering the fact that you even managed to tame your bedhead and put on some basic makeup. 

“i am put together. aren’t i?” you respond, reaching for the mug of hot coffee damien slides your way. 

“you look fine,” he assures, but his eyebrows furrow as he focuses on your sweatshirt. “is that new?” he continues.   

“what this?” you ask, pointing at the material. 

“yeah. i’ve never seen it on you before,” he continues. 

“don’t you know, damien, that it’s luke’s. he’s like always wearing it,” drew butts in. “they’re like a thing now, or whatever,” she continues, waving her hand as if swatting a fly. 

you huff at her annoyed tone, and the fact that you’ve been called out by your younger siblings. in an attempt to defend yourself you say, “it’s not luke’s. it’s mine.”

drew, damien, and carmen all open their mouths to object, but they don’t have the chance too because luke leans over from the end of the hermes table: “i’ve been looking for that sweatshirt everywhere, but you can keep it. it looks better on you anyways.”   

you feel your cheeks heat up, and luke has the audacity to send you a wink before turning back to his breakfast.

two: luke’s blue flannel pajama pants

friday night sleepovers were basically an aphrodite tradition at this point. what started out as a self-care night full of facemasks, manicures, and gossip sessions for the older campers quickly turned into an all-cabin sleepover complete with a movie, pillow fight, and fort. 

you’re sitting between peter and rosie, the ten-year-old twins from fairfield, connecticut. the two of them were polar opposites; rosie was talkative and outgoing, while peter preferred the quiet and keeping to himself. it was surprising to everyone when he sat next to you and watched intently as you painted his sister’s nails. 

rosie was yapping away, telling you all the details of her day. you were humming along, occasionally adding in an “oh yeah” or “really?” when needed, but for the most part, you were focused on not smudging her nails. peter was leaning against your side, fighting sleep as he listened to his sister. 

“i remember these pants,” he interrupted, fingers tracing the blue, white, and black pattern on your thigh. “luke was wearing them when i had that nightmare about fractions,” he finishes softly, a small bluish coating his pale cheeks. 

“was this the time one third was crushing you?” rosie asks, leaning forward to be closer to her brother. 

peter nods timidly and rosie springs into action, mumbling words of comfort. you, on the other hand, are completely rigid. your back is as stiff and as straight as a board as you look straight ahead, trying not to make eye contact with any of the siblings your age seated around you. carmen opens her mouth, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, but you snap your head in her direction. 

“don’t say a word,” you threaten. 

one look of your vicious glare has her miming zipping her lips. 

three: luke’s ac/dc shirt

this is the third time luke’s sifted through the stack of shirts in his dresser. it’s also the third time he’s come up empty handed. he huffs in frustration, running a tired hand down his face in annoyance. between the overflow of campers, keeping connor and travis in line, and now losing his favorite shirt, luke castellan is at his wit’s end. 

“has anyone seen my ac/dc shirt? y’know the one with the tour dates on the back?” he asks, looking around the cramped cabin. 

several people shrug. some of the younger kids start asking what ac/dc even is, and he does not have time to go into that right now. a few people offer to look through their stuff, saying maybe someone mixed up the wash, but the general consensus is that no one has seen the shirt. 

luke groans in annoyance. he’s starting his fourth attempt at finding the shirt when penelope, one of the younger unclaimed campers, tugs on his cargo pants. luke crouches down to her level, placing a comforting hand on her back while prompting her to talk to him. 

“i think i saw someone else wearing it,” she whispers, shyly twirling around the hem of her cotton dress with a butterfly pattern. 

“who?” luke asks, a little too loudly and abruptly. he clears his throat, taking a deep breath, before repeating much calmer, “who was wearing it, penelope?”

“that girl you like,” she answers, gently kicking the toe of his red converse with her bright pink twinkle toes. 

luke smiles softly at her, rubbing her back. “thanks pen. i knew i could count on you,” he answers. 

penelope giggles at his words, “but you didn’t even tell me to look for it!” 

“but you’re so smart you knew i’d need it,” he praises, ruffling her hair good-naturedly. 

once she runs off, luke leaves the cabin. he’s on a mission to find you, but most importantly, he’s on a mission to find his ac/dc shirt. after a series of questions, and some misguided directions, he finds you standing on the shore of the lake, surrounded by a variety of nymphs, demigods, and satyrs. 

you meet his gaze once he calls out to you, and watches as the color leaves your face. 

“how did you even get this?” he asks, taking some of the fabric between his thumb and forefinger once he’s within reach of you. 

you scoff at his words, “this is mine.” 

luke huffs, crossing his arms in annoyance. he watches as your eyes briefly flicker to his biceps before meeting his brown ones. 

“really? and since when do you buy your t-shirts two sizes too big?” he asks, smirking confidently. he’s got you now. 

“um since i wanted this as a beach coverup. it’s not rocket science, luke,” you answer. 

luke licks his lip, annoyance flickering across his eyes. “name five songs then,” he demands. 

your mouth falls open. “why are you such a guy?” you ask, frustrated.

“if you love ac/dc so much that you’d buy one of their shirts, name some songs,” he continues, but his voice has turned teasing. 

he watches as your nostrils flare and you ball your hands into fists at your sides. it’s cute.

“fine!” you agree. “there’s thunderstruck, and highway to hell, and that one about sex.”

“which one about sex?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “there’s multiple.” 

“all of them!” you shout. “there! that’s five.” 

luke rolls his eyes, but still wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. “if you want my clothes, all you have to do is ask,” he whispers into your hairline before placing a soft kiss on your skin. 

one: your pink camp half-blood crop-top

“have you seen luke today?” silena asks, catching up with you as you walk from the strawberry fields towards the archery range. 

“no why?” you ask curiously. 

her smile tells you everything you need to know; it’s wide and luminous, but her pearly white teeth seem to twinkle with the knowledge she’s withholding from you. 

“oh. no reason,” she says, before trying to skip away from you. 

you grab her shoulder, pulling her back towards you. “silena, what did he do?” you ask. 

silena giggles this time. “it’s nothing really, just. gosh, your boyfriend is so handsome, did you know that?”

“yes i did,” you start, “but why are you smiling and giggling like that?” 

she laughs again, “i think you should check the volleyball courts.” 

you hate athletics, but you’ve never sprinted to the volleyball courts so godsdamn fast in your life. when you arrive, you’re not surprised to see the hermes boys and apollo boys playing a beach volleyball match. most of them are shirtless and sweaty (and the entertainment for about twenty other campers) but luke is on the only one with his shirt on. you don’t think much of it, until he jumps for the ball and you get a good look at the color; his shirt is light pink. it’s also very tight around his broad arms and shoulders, hugging the muscles nicely while also showing off his toned abdomen. 

you watch as he turns to high five some of his teammates after scoring a point. his brown eyes meet your intense gaze, and he smiles widely at you. he has the audacity to flex and shout, “like what you see, babe? i figured this color suited me.” 

you roll your eyes at his words, shaking your head side to side as you walk over to him. your fingers trace the collar of your his shirt, gently nudging against the clay beads of his camp half-blood necklace. luke visibly gulps, and you smirk as your gazes connect.

“i think you should keep this,” you whisper, trailing your finger down his chest. “it looks better on you than me,” you finish, stepping away from him.

[sanjisboyfie]

golden retriever boyfriend ! itadori yuji

yuji x male reader

-> very short but i wanted to show smoe love to this cutie wootie patootie.

- oh my fucking god. the absolute sweetest boyfriend i fear. this guy literally praises the ground that you walk on and is at your beck and call as if you were a deity and he is your servant. your day is just him constantly asking if he can do anything for you to make you happier, usually the response is just his company, which he blushes and playfully smacks you for.

"honey, do you wanna go to the store to buy some more snacks before we binge watch?" yuji asked, a wide grin on his face, "gojo-sensei forgot to take back his wallet he leant me from my last mission, so we can splurge and he won't even notice!"

you laughed at his eagerness, but shook your head. instead, you opened your arms up for him to cuddle himself into and said, "i just want to spend some time with you, i missed you,"

without wasting another second, yuji jumped into your arms and peppered kisses all over your neck, jaw, and face, "i missed you even moreee!! let's turn on your show already, then," yuji contentedly closed his eyes, breathing in your scent as his cheek was pressed against your chest.

he was in heaven.

- constantly thinking of you. he's always seeing things on the street that remind him of you, always wondering if you'd like something he picked out for you from a street vendor, will constantly be talking nobara and megumi's ear off about, "oh, [name] really likes that restaurant! should i buy him something to go?" "haha, me and [name] watched that movie last night and he really liked the main character's best friend, even though i liked the main character more!" "nobara, do you think [name] is more handsome wearing a bracelet or necklace? huh? well, i think he lookes handsome either way, but i don't have money for both so i need someone unbiased to choose."

they think they've heard enough, but they very clearly haven't since yuji always goes above and beyond in talking about you.

you're there to hear the praises he sings for you 50% of the time, but the other 50%...poor nobara and megumi because they gotta deal with his yappin ass. he never shuts up in general (he's just a bby) but when he gets on a tangent talking about you ... it's like this guy doesn't need to breathe.

he's just so happy and content with the relationship you guys have he can't help but make it known to everyone around!!! another thing is he could care less if it annoys the fuck out of everyone around him, he just nods his head at their annoyance and then goes, "well, anyway, haha, as i was saying before i was interuppted!"

literally inumaki probably has had to restraint himself from telling yuji to "shut the fuck up" because he just wouldn't shut up.

- yuji likes to make it obvious to you how loyal of a boyfriend he is. he barely glances at other people on the street if he's with you. he has actual hearts in his eyes when he even sees you in his periphereals, if you are right in front of him, dear lord save him.

the two of you were walking down the street to the conveince store. your pinkies were linked together as yuji listened to you talk about your day and the training you had to do. at one point you were complaining about gojo's antics as an irresponsible teacher and yuji couldn't help but think how adorable that annoyed look on your face was.

the pout on your lips, even you rolling your eyes was so attractive to him. he was enthralled by your story and, of course, you, he didn't even realize that he walked right into the clear glass door of the store.

as he face planted staight into the wall, you immediately are fussing over if he is alright. he turns to you with a grin, nodding his head to show he was fine. but the smallest drop of blood coming from his nose said otherwise.

and as you fretted over his very minor injury, he couldn't help but sigh in content as he thought you tending to him was the most heartwarming thing he has ever experienced.

"you'd be a great nurse, [name]," he says, not minding the subtle glare you threw at him, "your hands are so soft and gentle-"

"they're about to smack you if you don't shut up," you gruffly replied, but yuji wasn't deterred at all in singing your praises even more.

"you're so kind to me," he says with a dreamy look in his eyes.

once again, you sighed heavily at your boyfriend's attitude, pinching his ear, "quit it, yuji! what if you actually got hurt, you're lucky it was just a rush of blood. you need to be more focused, especially if we're gonna be out there fighting curses,"

yuji, unfortunately, doesn't take any of your warnings seriously. as he presses his cheek to the palm of his hand, he just stares at you lovingly, "what do you think? should we buy you a cute little nurse outfit and i can be your sick patient? you'd look so handsome in scrubs!"

another pinch to his ear, "yuji! are you even listening?!"

- has this really adorable habit of just getting lost in whatever you're saying and blinking owlishly at you with a very cute smile on his face. it's a really adorable sight, but when you're actually trying to tell him something, he's just looking at you like ":3" and not at all listening to what you're saying.

"gojo-sensei said to be extra careful because the blades were just sharpened, alright?" you advised, looking at the myriad of cursed tools that you were going to be training with. "hm, what do you think suits your fighting style more, babe?"

yuji only tightened his grip around your waist, burying his face into your neck as he was just too focused on your body against his to even begin formulating an answer to your question. even though it was a fairly easy question to answer.

"itadori yuji," you warn, sensing that he was spacing out once again.

"noooo," he whines, squeezing you tight, "'m your baby, not itadori yuji," he complains, exaggerating his name as if it were the worst sound in the world.

"well, you're going to stay itadori yuji until you answer my question," you say, wondering why you had to disclipline your boyfriend as if he were your child. you soften up though when you hear him whine once again, burying his head deeper into your neck.

ruffling his hair as a way of comforting him, ultimately caving in to his whines and attitude, you softly say, "baby, can you just help me out really quick?"

"kisses after i do?"

"of course,"

yuji is grinning like a fool and is suddenly very intrigued in the conversation on what curse tool works best with his fighting style.

GIVE ME ITADORI YUJI AS MY BOYFRIEND and id treat him like a king, thats all im saying. he deserves so much love, please.

[viyatrix]

DP x DC Prompt

Plot Bunny Inspired by late at night when the nightingale sings by Imshookandbi where Danny is on the run from Vlad and is saved by Batman. Danny tells Batman that they can’t fight in court because Vlad will just overshadow the judge.

However this idea could be utilized in other fics.

————-

Batman hates mind control, especially in his city and towards his friends, Vlad is pretty into mind control and likes to use it all the time. They’re both millionaires, they run in the same circles, Vlad is a problem (whether or not he’s hunting Danny).

WayneTech obtains the Spector deflector plans (could be from Danny, could be they bought them from the Fentons) and decide to start mass producing them inside their tech.

We always see WayneTech phones - I don’t know if a phone would be a good medium for a Spector deflector, could be if you wanted, but surely the Applewatch/fitbit equivalent would be perfect to sneak that bit of tech into. Bruce Wayne is popular so everyone who is anyone with power in Gotham is wearing Waynetech.

Bruce (or Tim, you pick) wouldn’t even have to tell people about ghosts or the possibility of being possessed (avoiding Vlad getting into their plans, or avoiding alerting the GIW, or maybe people just don’t believe in ghosts) they could just make fancy smartwatches (hell WayneTech could buy Rolex and a jewelry company. Put them in earrings and bracelets and necklaces, everything from five dollar Claire’s earrings to 100K$ diamond earrings, hit lots of price points) and slowly but surely cut off Vlad��s ability to possess anyone. So by the time the bats actually have to confront Vlad, they’ve laid all the ground work and Vlad is caught without his signature backup plan. Vlad can’t control them, he can’t control the judges in court, he can’t control the corrupt policeman by force (money works fine though).

I find the idea that Gotham in particular just becomes the unknowing anti-ghost-possession capital of the world due to the proliferation of WayneTech to be very funny. You could also expand to say the Spector deflector works against other/any kind of mind control if you wanted. That might make Bruce/Tim’s desire to use it much stronger.

I also find the idea that Lex Luthor would probably get screwed by Vlad because he wouldn’t deign to wear rival tech also hilarious.

[russellsppttemplates]

Convincing Franco to follow a skincare routine and he is only convinced because you are wearing boxer shorts and one of his Williams shirts

"Mi amor?", you called Franco as you stepped inside the ensuite bathroom, unclasping your necklace and setting it in the little tray where you kept your jewellery for the night.

"Yes?", your boyfriend called back.

"Why don't you join me in my skincare routine?", you spoke, "I could put a facemask on you, and then we could try this new serum I got - It's supposed to make your skin really soft", you stated as you read the promised effect on the bottle.

"I don't know, amor, but I can help you with yours if you want me to - do you want me to braid your hair like last time?", he recalled, having done it for you before when you noticed the clay product sticking to your hair.

"It would be so much better if we did it together!", you pouted as you walked back to the bedroom hoping to convince your boyfriend once you were facing him.

"My skin is fine how it is, I do- Oh!", Franco didn't hide the surprise as he took a good look at you. You were only wearing a pair of boxer shorts and one of his Wiliams t-shirts, the fabric wrapping snuggly around your curves and making him bite his lip slightly, "now that I think about it, maybe it would be a good idea to join you", he smirked, letting his hands wander on your waist as you walked back to the bathroom.

"I'll help you up, baby", Franco stated as he made you sit on the counter, the feeling of the cold stone against the back of your thighs leaving you with tiny goosebumps, "what do I do first?".

"I've already washed my face, so you can wash yours and then we can do it together", you smiled, pecking his cheek before handing him the white tube.

Franco dispensed a little bit of product on his fingers, lathering it with a little bit of water and letting it wash his skin as you watched him, mesmerised by his beauty and that this man was your boyfriend.

"Stop looking at me like that", he mumbled as he patted his face dry, winking at you through the mirror.

"Can't help myself", you shrugged your shoulders, "now we put on thos face mask with this brush", you grabbed them, undoing the cap and dipping it in before beckoning him to stand between your legs.

The brush glided on his skin as you made your best effort not to get it where it shouldn't go, "can you do me now, please?", you asked.

Franco nodded, kissing your forehead and getting to work, working the brush expertly around your eyes and cheeks, "now, how long do we have to wait?", he asked.

"15 to 20 minutes", you smiled, taking a look at the time before pulling your boyfriend as close to you as possible, feeling his hands cup your thighs so he could carry you back to the bedroom like you usually did.

"I don't mind doing all of this every day if you always wear this", Franco mumbled as he fiddled with the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing.

"Just this? Is that what it will take for us to have a joint skincare routine?", you asked.

"I'm a man of simple taste", he joked, "but it has to be just this, no more, and maybe no less because them I'd just get distracted and we'd be in bed by the time you dried your face off".

Slapping his chest playfully, you giggle at his antics, "Franco!".

"What?! I'm telling the truth - I know skincare is important so I know we shouldn't interrupt it! I'm struggling as it is right now, so less clothing would just make me crazy!", he defended himself.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[midwestprincesss]

how did it end?

part 1 || patrick zweig x fem!reader

"you cannot love somebody into loving you"

summary: your relationship with patrick has been on and off for ages. you knew him and he knew you. you love him but he only loves you when he can get something out of it. but then, can that even be considered love?

a/n(READ THIS BITCH): random ass specific fact about the reader but she is skincare obsessed like me. acne prone girlies yk what im talking about. btw I KNOW PATRICK DOESN'T GO TO STANFORD BUT WE WILL PRETEND HE SPENDS A LOT OF TIME THERE OK. also this series will only continue if u guys give me feedback. and hype me up. cause i have no motivation. patrick girlies help me i know ur out there💪 also this first chapter is like. they're friends but pining. no angst yet oopsie

2004, stanford college.

being in love with patrick was difficult. really, really fucking difficult. it was almost like you had to put in an effort to be in love with him. nevertheless, you didn't. to you it just felt easy. you wish you could get rid of the feeling, but it doesn't seem to want to go away.

patrick zweig could be very easily described in one word: player. and by that i don't only mean tennis player.

but he was easy to love, too. if we ignore all the mixed signals he always gave you, he's actually a sweet guy.

he remembers your coffee order. he listens to your problems. he calls you to check up on you. and he takes care of you while you're out partying. and after that. and in the morning. he holds your hair and rubs your back as you puke out whatever the fuck you drank last night. he gives you his clothes. out of all the girls he knows, he gives you his clothes.

this was one of those times.

saturday morning.

you woke up with a horrible headache and with a certain curly-haired boy next to you. you try to remember what happened last night, but you give up after about three minutes of staring at the ceiling in silence. who cares, really? at least you woke up in your bed, and not on a random bench outside. not that patrick would ever let that happen.

he has the key to your dorm. he spent most of his days with you, so you figured it would be totally fine for him to have it.

you rub your eyes sleepily as you look to your left- patrick was not sleeping either.

"morning." he said, simply. you groaned in response.

"glad you asked, and you're welcome." he said sarcastically. "you got fucking wasted, like usual. i had to carry you from the party. not that you couldn't walk, but you just insisted on it. when we finally got here you threw up all over yourself. and then in the toilet, like three times, i think."

your eyes widened in disgust. you looked down at your clothes, expecting to find a now vomit-stained white dress on. to your surprise, you were wearing a dark green tee - you remember you've seen it on patrick once- and a pair of uncomfortably large boxers. you're surprised they didn't fall off while you were sleeping.

"patrick." you said, terrified. "please tell me i took my makeup off before sleeping. or at least washed my face." patrick sighed. 'blah blah blah i have sensitive skin blah blah blah i'll break out if i sleep with my makeup on' you always told him, whenever he was sleeping over.

"you didn't." he said. then went quiet for a few seconds, but just for his own amusement. he thought you looked cute when you were worried. but worried was not a big enough word for the look on your face- you were more like, mortified, maybe? so he decided to stop joking around. "i took your makeup off. i couldn't find those circular white thingies you do it with so i used a towel-"

you cut him off with a laugh. you could actually kiss him. maybe you shouldn't, though. your breath smelled like actual shit. looking to your right, at the nightstand next to your side of the bed, you noticed your earrings and necklace and rings arranged neatly next to eachother and you swore you felt your heart flutter.

you knew patrick cared about you, but you didn't think he would be so attentive. usually, you don't get so drunk, so you can actually do what you need to do by yourself. even then, he insists he should do it for you. but you always refused him, partly because you didn't want to bother him but you were also pretty convinced he would not do things properly. he proved you wrong.

"for how long have you been awake?" you ask him.

"i'm not sure whether i even slept. you kept talking on your sleep. and tossing. and turning. and stealing the blanket. i think you even slapped me once-" he started laughing as you started muttering apologies, but he immediately told you not to worry about it.

you sighed, then you both went silent. you examined his face- he really did seem tired- droopy eyes, dark eyebags, eyelids partially closed. but still smirking at you. no one and nothing could ever wipe that shit-eating grin off his face.

"you look cute." he broke the silence, letting his thumb linger on your cheek.

"i feel like shit." you snickered, hiding your face in your hands but he immediately pulled them away, kissing your knuckles.

that took you by surprise. sure, you and patrick were affectionate with eachother, but this felt way more intimate than usual. what was going on with him?

suddenly, you looked at the time. 10:30 am. you were late for breakfast. like, really late. you figured there wouldn't be anything left in the cafeteria by now.

"shit. we'll have to starve until lunch, patrick" you told him, a hint of irony in your voice.

"don't worry, i'll go get us something from the supermarket." he said as he got up, pulling a grey hoodie over his head. he took his keys and wallet then looked down lovingly at you as you still rested on the bed. "call me if you need anything else" he said , kissing your forehead then leaving. leaving your dorm, but also leaving you swooning over him.

you were in it for good.