#guess i should get a talking tag huh

[antii-gravity]

customized my theme properly for the first time too! I'm barely ever on desktop so I've never had the chance? but it was so cool,, there were spaces for links on the theme i chose but I have nothing to link so theyre literally just useless sites. yk. for funsies.

[moviesstoriesandbooks]

To people who don't know what happened :

Basically another chat got leaked between what seems to be Build and someone else , where he's seen asking for money multiple times , and cursing people who exposed his old problematic tweets on twitter , being homophobic (as a joke 🙁) and other things among many.

As any sane person would think , i also had doubts about the authenticity of the texts and all , but then everyone basically unfollowed him on Instagram and build also tweeted an apology.

Apology confirms that those are genuine right??

He genuinely badmouthed his costars who were there working their asses off for a show that got cancelled once and had to begin production again.

Like , he does not seem like a good coworker , all things considered. And he's so much trouble to the company as a whole , which has pretty ungrateful fans following it's artists.

(idk some tweets just make me go , it's a tough industry . They're atleast still getting work from a show that's been done airing for a year and with no hope of season 2 . They can't create work , but they're still doing very well for a smallass company)

I initially read his fans' responses which were along the lines of "if your texts with your bestie leaks then will you be safe?"

And although that's a very .... Erm ... creative way to view things , I don't think that's barely enough here.

He was badmouthing basically apo , jeff and barcode, and nodt and mile(?) I'm unclear on the details. I get that you may be angry at your coworkers , there may be squabbles but that's not what this was about?? Jeffbarcode were accused of being boc's favourites (??????) and had more pictures taken than everyone else(??????????????) They had like 15 mins of screentime. What is this man on about?

I just straight up don't trust this man anymore.

I don't care about his story. He's so much trouble than he's worth and every day there's something up with him.

[dreamerlynx]

.

[leviathiane]

I’M A PROFESSOR NOW?!?!??!?!

[liselke]

my very unpopular opinion is that. i really dont like the doctor/rose romance i just cant stomach it that girl is 19 years old. i love rose as a working class icon i really dont like her romance with the doctor. shes a 19 year old girl that gets swept up in this whole new magical world by a thousand year old alien i dont want to see him kiss her on the mouth im sorry. i dont want to see him become the point of her life i dont want to see her end up with a new traumatised again copy of him as a good ending with seemingly no problems

[jaypgartifacts]

homestuck 🤝pokemon scarlet & violet

time shenanigans

[lostryu]

some of y’all get really mad when we ask you to acknowledge your privilege and i think that’s pretty telling of your character.

[exercise-of-trust]

.

[desues-randomness]

Straight up self insert

meet Hannah, she’s a Hider artist, she’s a self insert character because of reasons.

Hannah is a kind and soft spoken girl who doesn’t do well in social environments, she’s usually just hiding out in the Studio room of the Gloomy Manor, though don’t try to rush her, she will get mad. She loves all things artistic ranging from painting to music, dance, modeling, woodworking and even just plain ‘ol regular drawing, she loves it all, she even sewed her shirt and smock from fabrics she found in Evershade.

Before the events of Dark Moon, she was only really known as just the one painter Hider in the Studio, not much is really known about her, she never even mentioned her name so no one even properly knew her.

When the Moon broke, she is one of the first few Hiders Luigi encounters, she’s seen painting the portrait of another Hider, though this Hider is rather impatient and gets on her nerves, so she painted a mustache on him out of annoyance, she then spent most of her time in the vault. {Like how I do whilst playing the game, like seriously I love the vault in LM DM}

After the moon is fixed, she realizes that maybe she should probably express herself more, since she now knows that living humans are also present in the Valley she calls home. She consults the only women she knows in the entirety of Evershade, The Three Sisters, only one was available to ask at the time though, Lucinda. Hannah basically got the idea of Accessorizing like how she did when alive from her, though since Hannah never wore any hair accessories, she had to compromise, so she searched for some medium cyan and Forest green fabrics and threads to make a tee-shirt and smock.

[neverendingford]

.

[creative-crybaby]

Trifle

PAIRING: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

GENRE: crack? crack. | smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: fingering, oral (m receiving), praise kink, dacryphilia (?), cum eating, squirting

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

SUMMARY: Two things can be true at the same time. Does Gojo make you want to hit him upside the head with a frying pan, should his Infinity allow it? Yes. Does he also know how to make your ovaries explode with his fingers alone? Also yes.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Heeeeyyyy~ yes it's been several months without a fic and this comes out under 2k words buuuuuutttt~ u get bitchass!Gojo (we love him)

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

You’re going to kill him. 

He’s a walking, talking headache. Questioning your teaching methods for your students, eating your sweets even though you’ve labelled them (it’s right there!), swooping into your missions like he’s saving the day. Those are just a few of the many examples, but he does it all on purpose, you’re sure of it. 

So to be sitting between his long legs with his slender fingers knuckle-deep into your sopping cunt feels like a blow to your integrity and pride. 

Especially since he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“So,” Gojo drawls, pausing his ministrations between your trembling thighs, “how many orgasms was that?”

Your face is boiling. From rage or embarrassment, you can’t decide. “Fuck you.”

The sorcerer hums at your crude remark before slipping his digits out of your pussy, holding his hand a foot away from your face to catch your essence blanketing his skin. 

“Patience, patience.” His easy-going tone makes you want to jab your elbow into his stomach. “Jeez, someone’s eager. You finally warming up to me, Princess?”

And that damn nickname. Either Gojo genuinely doesn’t know how much you hate it, or he’s just trying to push your buttons some more. With the clueless grins he’d offer as he’d call you that, you’d assume the former. But with his explanation for calling you that being that you always stick your nose up at him, you don’t think he deserves any benefit of the doubt. 

You hate that nickname, yet you find yourself clenching around nothing just from hearing those familiar syllables. 

His first question came out like he was asking for the time, yet with the number of times he’s made you see galaxies, you ought to be grateful that his tone holds no cockiness. No, actually, you might prefer that instead—how dare he handle this victory with grace and nonchalance?

“This doesn’t even make us friends,” you manage to stammer through gritted teeth. Your glare remains on his hand, still drenched before you, though your frustration lies more down south than anywhere else. 

You can hear the taunting frown in the sorcerer’s voice. “Guess you won’t care for this anymore, then.”

His arm, responsible for putting you in your puddle-like state, slowly retracts, and you can feel the sorcerer take his time raising from his seated position. 

Now he’s finally giving you the space you always wanted from him, yet you surprise yourself by grabbing him by the wrist. You let go as soon as you recognize your action, but the deed has already been done. 

An overly enthusiastic gasp. “You do like me!”

“Oh, my God—If I say yes, will you just finish the job already?” you groan. 

Gojo plops back to his seating position behind you, nestling his chin onto your shoulder as he teases his hand to return between your thighs. His warm breath fans your cheek while his lips graze your earlobe. Miniscule actions that have your body heating up. Intentional on his part, most likely, though you refuse to give him any more ammo against you. 

A heavy sigh. The feigned disappointment in his tone has your brows furrowing so intensely that you worry you might pop a vein. 

“No gratitude for the hand that feeds you, huh?” The special-grade sorcerer nuzzles into your neck, his woe-is-me attitude soon replaced with a blinding grin and boyish giggle. “Oh, but you know I can’t be mad at you for long!”

Long and slender fingers bury themselves in your weeping cunt before you process his mood swings. A trembling moan slips from your mouth as his skilled ministrations resume, your sweet spot welcoming the familiar touch. His speed and rhythm return as if he never paused, further turning your brain to mush as your thighs tremble. Gojo chuckles childishly once more, the charming melody syncing with the embarrassingly loud squelching of your soaking pussy. 

Multiple orgasms later, and you ask for more. The heat from the situation must be melting your sense of reason because you can’t tell if you’re greedy or just plain stupid. 

“You crying?” Gojo’s voice carries its usual teasing lilt, the one he has specifically for you. You don’t even realize how the fresh tears glaze your vision—as if he didn’t already have enough fuel for the fire.

But you bite your tongue. You bite your tongue because there’s no convincing anyone that he’s crazy and seeing things and the last thing you need is for him to stall some more when you’re already sososo close to the edge.

A slight change in angle. It does the trick, his fingers still bullying that one spot while his palm brushes against your throbbing clit with just as much vigour. Your body tenses, a choked sob escaping your glossy lips as your orgasm hits you like a tsunami. Warm liquid follows soon after, the blue-eyed sorcerer’s movements refusing to halt and making lewd splashing sounds in the process. 

Even once everything simmers down, the impact decides to remain a bit longer. With a heaving chest and stuttering hips, the room stops spinning, slowly but surely.

A low whistle. “If you had to pee, you could have just said so.”

“Why are you like this?”

Gojo hums before slipping his fingers out of your pussy, earning him a slightly pained whimper from you. He stands back up as you wipe away the evidence of your crying, peering up at him when his shadow blankets you. His towering frame never fails to catch you off-guard, but what currently has your attention is the Special Grade sorcerer sucking his digits clean of your juices, a satisfied mewl coming straight from his throat.

“Welp,” he stretches his arms above his head, “we still have a bit of time left before we have that meeting with good ol’ Principal Yaga, so,” the sound of a zipper reaches your ears, and it's only a few seconds later that he pulls out his cock—long, stiff and painfully ready, “why not return the favour?” 

You’re too fucked out to argue against him. That’s the reasoning you’d think of using should he confront you about your willingness to comply. You can’t help it if you’re losing the staring contest against his cock, saliva pooling on your tongue as he taps his vermillion tip against your cheek.

Your lips part as your eyes flutter closed, unable to bear to look at the Special Grade sorcerer as you take him down your throat, inch by inch. The gagging sound that erupts from your throat halfway through makes your brows furrow, and you can only hope the man above you doesn’t comment. With clenched fists sitting on your lap, you further shield your sight with screwed-shut lids as you push yourself to take more, using your tongue for good measure.

A shuddered sigh leaves Gojo’s soft lips when you tease one of his veins. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

You moan in response, feeling bold enough to create a steady pace to bob your head. Whatever you couldn’t reach, your hand took care of, a part of your brain urging you to squeeze him just a bit harder. His responses only grow louder, his groaning and panting setting your face on fire.

“You’re so good at this,” he rasps, his large hand finding the top of your head. Despite his gentle touch, you furrow your brows at the contact. “Too good…” You don’t expect him to slip himself out of your mouth, holding his base away from your mouth and making you finally look up at him. Gojo tilts his head to the side. “You’ve done this before?”

You'd have thought he was teasing if it weren’t for the pout on his lips. You look at him for a moment with an incredulous expression.

“What are you talking about?” You swat his hand out of your hair. “You seriously think being with anyone outside our line of work would be easy?” The male sorcerer’s gaze carries hope at your words, a noticeable shine in those cerulean blues that make your heart stutter. Unsure of what to do next, you continue the lost momentum by pumping his pulsing cock in your hand. “I’m stuck with you, Gojo.”

You figure his shuddered gasp is from your returning touch, especially with the combination of pinched brows, quivering lips and heavy blush on his cheeks and ears. But his large hand on top of yours–the one doing all the work–tells another story.

“You really do like me, Princess!” The sorcerer exclaims, his voice wavering halfway. 

At this point, you don’t care to dissect whether or not he’s pushing your buttons. Even at a time like this….

“I meant I’m settling for you,” you grumble, ignoring how his hand practically devours yours. You manage to retract your hold from his. “Don’t make me bite you.”

Gojo giggles at your threat, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth when you plop his dick back in your mouth. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Without warning, you graze his shaft with your teeth the more you take him in your mouth. Not enough to hurt, but enough to send a message, if your irritated expression wasn’t already doing the job. 

Although, you suppose it is your fault for not taking him seriously either. Your actions earn you a whimper from the Special Grade sorcerer. Not a second later, he has his head thrown back as he pours his load down your throat. Your eyes widen at the overpowering taste, doing what you can to swallow every drop without choking. Even through his orgasm, you find yourself thinking about how he ought to cut down on the sweets. 

You’re quick to pull back for air once Gojo comes down from his high, sputtering in your hand as he sighs happily. 

“Told ya,” he muses, tucking himself back in. You wipe your mouth, glaring at him from your spot on the floor. 

“Whatever,” you grunt, putting your clothes back on before attempting to stand. If he notices your legs still wobbling, he thankfully doesn’t comment. “Let’s just hurry and get to that meeting before Yaga gets mad.”

Gojo hums with a tilt of his head as he watches you dusting off your pants.

“Oh, yeah!” He drops his fist into his palm. You throw a wary look his way when he grins. “We’ve been late this whole time, actually.”

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

[fettuccin-e]

Man in the Mirror

Kinktober Day 19: Voyeurism

Tags: Marc Spector x Reader x Steven Grant, afab!fem!reader, consensual voyeurism, unprotected piv (pls wrap it in real life omg), dirty talk, slight degradation, Steven watches Marc fuck you through a mirror idk what to tell you (w/c: 1K)

A/N: Back with the boys because I love them and I cannot help myself okay!!! And this is consensual, even though Steven doesn't exactly know it at the beginning, he just thinks he's being a perv. But in my fics, everyone is a perv alright! (this month I have been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings!)

Steven knows it’s wrong, God, it’s fucking wrong, but it’s like he can’t stop himself.

There’s something about the way Marc fucks you, the way you scrabble at the bedsheets when the shoves you into a lewd arch, his hand pressing into your back. The way you moan for it, heaving breaths into your lungs. It’s the way Marc talks to you through it, talking to you like you’re the filthy one, like you’re the one who’s desperate for it, even though Steven knows it’s both of you.

“God damn, baby,” Marc snarls, fucking into you hard enough that tears are starting to leak down your cheeks. “You’re fucking sucking me in, sweetheart. Feels good, huh? Getting fucked like you need?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you gasp through the moans he forces out of your mouth with every thrust. “It’s so fucking good, Marc, you’re so fucking deep.”

Steven should stop, right now. Go hide in the headspace, go to sleep and let you both have some privacy. Fuck, he's as naked as Marc is right now, he should feel exposed, have some god damn decency. But it’s like he’s stuck in place, staring in through the mirror as Marc rips you apart in ways he’s never dreamed to. It’s fucking addicting to watch the way your eyes roll back, the way your ass smacks back against Marc every time he shoves himself in, in, in. He reaches down to his bare cock and squeezes, unable to help it.

You’d only put this mirror up a week ago, and he hadn't even thought about the positioning of it. It’s placed on the wall right across from the foot of your bed, and fuck, he can see everything. He hadn’t noticed, hadn’t thought about this view when he had helped you set it straight, Marc coming into view in the reflection and smirking at Steven like he knew something he didn’t. Steven had brushed it off.

He shouldn’t have fucking brushed it off.

Because he’s sure, almost fucking positive, that Marc had somehow known. He’d known that Steven would watch, just like this, how Marc takes care of their girl. How he destroys you in ways that Steven can’t even think up on his own. It’s a special kind of torture, seeing you like this and not feeling it, not feeling you.

Marc’s thrusts are brutal, violent like the man himself. He treats you with so much care normally, Steven has seen it, but this isn’t gentle in the least. And you love it, crying out and drooling onto your sheets as Marc rips you to pieces, pulling you back onto his cock with thick fingers digging hard into your hips. He’s not sure how long he’s been watching intently, unable to tear his gaze away, when he sees Marc’s head snap up.

Looking right fucking at him.

Steven should go, disappear from the consciousness entirely, but it’s like he’s glued to the spot, his gaze locked with Marc’s. Marc’s thrusts don’t stutter, don’t stop, and you’re blissfully unaware as Marc watches Steven watch you.

Until Marc grins like the bastard he is, and leans down to mutter, just loud enough for Steven to hear, “Guess who’s here, gorgeous?”

“Wh-what?” you gasp through Marc’s unrelenting thrusts.

“He’s watching, baby,” Marc smiles, glancing up at Steven. “Just like you wanted.”

You wanted- you wanted? Steven’s breath catches in his throat, he’s pretty sure his heart stops fucking beating. 

“Steven,” you moan like it’s been punched out of you. “Steven’s here.”

“He’s watchin’ in that mirror you put up, sweetheart,” Marc says, “Watching me fuck you.” Steven is flushed beet-red, he knows it, but still, he watches. “Look at him, baby,” Marc growls, “Fucking look at him.”

Marc reaches up and curls a fist into your hair, tugging your head up to look straight into the mirror, straight at Steven. And God, you’re beautiful, tears falling down your face, your lips plump from the way you’ve been biting at them. You can’t see him, Steven knows that, but you look anyway, like you really can.

“She wanted this,” Marc snarls, and you clench your eyes shut, like you want to hide from Steven’s gaze. “She put that mirror up, hoping you’d watch like this. Wanted me to watch you both too, Steven.” You whine, and Marc’s thrusts seem to get even harder. “Our baby’s a little slut, just wants someone to watch her get fucked, isn’t that right, honey?”

“Your-” you gasp, staring into the mirror, like you’re talking to Steven, too. “Your slut, fuck, just yours.”

Marc fucking growls, his hips driving his cock into you. Steven can hear the way your pussy squishes around him, so wet you’re dripping down onto the sheets beneath you. Your body is covered in sweat, glinting in the light, practically glowing.

“Gonna let him fuck you after this, baby?” Marc grits, “Fucking whore for this cock, can’t get enough.” You slur a stream of yesyesyesyes as Marc reaches beneath you to start rubbing furiously at your clit, and you tremble beneath him.

“C’mon, gorgeous, cum for me.” Marc glances up at Steven. “Cum for both of us.”

Your eyes go wide, your mouth gaping open around a silent scream as you gush down Marc’s cock, body shaking as Marc fucks you through it, letting out a strangled groan of his own. Steven is hard as a fucking rock, straining against his stomach, begging for your touch. He watches as Marc thrusts deep and stills, his eyelids fluttering as he pumps you full of his cum.

You slump into the sheets, and Marc slides out of you, leaning down to kiss down your spine, muttering little praises of “such a good girl,” and “took it so well, looked so pretty,” into your skin. You roll onto your back, tugging Marc down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. Marc smiles against your mouth, and Steven feels that familiar pull to the front.

He shuts his eyes, and when he blinks them open again, you’re smiling up at him, reaching up to brush a reverent hand across his jaw.

“Enjoyed the show?” you whisper, and Steven can’t help the way he grins, the way his heart flutters.

“More than you know, darling,” he mutters, and leans to lick into your mouth. “Got to give Marc a show now, yeah?”

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny Pt.6

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

Danny slumped over the table at the library. He’d feel embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the rest of the floor’s occupants. Around him, students were speed running through the five stages of grief like it was going out of style.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

“Same.” Danny replied, rolling his head to look at Tim. “I’m feeling like an academic victim instead of an academic weapon right now.”

“I should have stayed dropped out of school,” Tim grumbled.

Danny gasped theatrically. “And deprive the world of your awe-inspiring genius on…” Danny peered at Tim’s books and grinned. “On… the Krebs cycle? Seriously? They’re teaching that again?”

“I know! This is like, the third time.” Tim whined.

“At least you’ll be good at it, right?”

Tim scoffed. “I’m gonna drop out of college and become a stripper.”

“They do make bank,” Danny nodded. “But aren’t you like a millionaire or something?”

Tim brightened. “Oh, you’re right. I don’t need education! I’m filthy rich!”

Danny whacked Tim on the back of the head, laughing quietly.

“Whatever. Let’s go take a break. Snacks?”

“I literally don’t know how you eat so much.”

“Snacks have a separate stomach pouch. Normal food goes one place, junk food and desserts in another.” Danny retorted, quickly packing up his stuff. In reality, he didn’t need that much food. He’s half dead, after all. But food also converts to ectoplasm in his body, and ancients knows Danny needs all the energy he could get.

They made their way out of the campus library, passing stressed out looking students on their way to a taco truck.

“Does this even count as a snack?” Tim asked, amused. He tugged on his book bag, readjusting the vigilante pins on them.

“Is the sky even blue?” Danny snarked back, forking over the cash needed for the best fucking tacos on this side of Gotham. They sat on the benches, asking for an obscene amount of extra lime and cilantro before going to town.

“Holy shit, how many of those can you eat?”

“Dunno,” Danny mumbled though a mouthful or carne asada and pico de gallo. “Hungry.”

Tim snorted, pulling out his phone to scroll as he ate. A moment later, Tim showed Danny his screen.

“Hey, you live near here, right?”

Danny, cheeks bulging with food, peered at Tim’s phone and nodded.

“Oh, cool! Have you seen the green guy around?”

Danny squinted at Tim, tilting his head as he chewed.

“You know, the glowing green guy that’s been blowing up the Gotham Bay tag.”

Oh. Tim was talking about him, Danny!

Danny nodded. He quickly ate his food and wiped his mouth before replying. “Yeah, why?”

“Does he seriously just clean up the bay? Nothing else?”

Mildly offended for some reason, Danny shrugged. “I mean yeah? He doesn’t seem to pop up near any of the shady spots- oh, I saw him save someone from a mugging in front of my apartment once! But like, I think all he does is clean the bay. Which is good, because holy heck, that place is nastyyy.”

“Seriously?” Tim leaned in, looking super interested. “So he’s friendly?”

Danny raised a brow. “Yeah, he seemed pretty nice, I guess. Though, that’s not saying much considering your Rogues tend to be pretty chill when they’re not in the middle of a scheme.”

Tim snorted. “True that. You talked to him? When? Outside of his bay cleanings, right? I’ve noticed that he only talks to the Bats during those.”

Danny stared at Tim. “Tim… are you… stalking the guy?”

What Danny really wanted to say was: “Tim, are you stalking me?”

“I’m not stalking him!” At Danny’s suspicious glare, belied by his sauce stained mouth, Tim sighed. “Okay, maybe I am. But only some minor stalking!”

“Uh-huh.”

“But if you have, you think you could introduce us? Maybe he’d want to be friends?”

Was Tim asking Danny to introduce him to… Danny himself?

“Uh. Why do you even want to meet him?”

“Danny, he’s a glowing green guy that does community service for funsies. And he knows the Bats. That’s cool.”

“And here I thought you wouldn’t know cool if it smacked you in the face.” Danny teased. Well, whatever. He might as well do something nice for Tim. “Sure. I’ll text you when he pops up and see if he’s okay with meeting you.”

Tim grinned at him, a piece of cilantro stuck in his teeth. “Thanks!”

——

Danny made a duplicate of himself and went ghost. Danny and his duplicate looked at each other and sighed.

“We’ve done stupider things.”

“But we’re still not telling Jazz.”

“Agreed.”

Danny paused. Did he just make a deal with himself? No, he’s busy.

Doppelgänger Danny went invisible and left the apartment by going through a wall. Danny followed in a sedate pace, the normal way.

Outside, he pretended to catch sight of a suddenly visible Phantom. He’d heard the heartbeats outside his apartment ever since he got home all those days ago, and he’s pretty sure the vigilantes were watching his place ever since. Luckily, he made sure there weren’t any bugs or hidden cameras- Sam beat cautiousness into his head a while ago- before starting the plan.

One of those heartbeats sounded like Tim’s which left some… interesting connotations.

Danny sighed. Who was he kidding? Of course he’d be friends with a vigilante.

“Hey, Phantom!” Danny shouted, waving. Phantom floated over.

“Danny. Hi. Did you need something?”

“Oh, not really. My friend wanted to meet you, he’s a huuuuge fan. Think you’ve got time today?” Danny held up his phone.

Phantom hummed. “I can stay for a bit. Thirty minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll call him. His name is Tim, by the way. Thanks for taking the time to meet him!”

“No problem.”

Danny texted Tim, and minutely frowned as he picked up the sound of Tim’s ringtone. Shit, that pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He got a text back from Tim.

Timsy

[5 nin]

Nin

Nin

Nin

Min

Danny huffed an amused breath. “He’ll be here in five minutes.”

“Alright.”

Danny texted back an okay.

Five minutes later, a flushed and disheveled Tim peeled onto the street and right to the curb.

“Here!” He said as he tumbled out of the car.

“Damn, bro. You good?”

“Fine- oh my god, you’re the green guy!” Danny had to hand it to Tim. If he didn’t already figure out he was Red Robin, Danny would’ve believed the act. Holy shit, wait, he called his friend broke. Hah!

“It’s Phantom. Nice to meet you, Tom.”

A quick sliver of sullenness flashed over Tim’s face. “It- it’s Tim.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, human names sound so similar.” Danny leaned back and hid a grin as his doppelgänger messed with his friend.

“Oh, wow, you’re not human? What are you then?”

“Oh my god, Tim, you can’t just ask him what he is!” Danny scolded. These vigilantes were really similar.

“Sorry…” Tim apologized.

“It’s fine. To answer your question, I’m dead. Ghost.”

“Do you really pay taxes?”

Phantom tilted his head. “Yes, of course.” By the, Danny meant that he paid both human taxes and oversaw the Zone’s taxes. “You know that saying, something about never escaping from two things and that’s taxes and death? You can escape death- might come back a little wrong- but taxes are in the afterlife too.”

“Come back a little wrong?” Tim asked, eyes suddenly sharp.

“Come back a little,” Phantom gestured to himself. “Green. More emotive and prone to irritation.”

Tim stared.

——

“Jason, are you a ghost?” Dick, crouched on the top of Danny’s apartment building whispered.

Red Hood, crouched in the same area, stayed silent.

——

“How did you die?”

Phantom snarled and disappeared.

Tim whirled around, looking bewildered. Behind him, Danny struggled to stay calm.

“Where’d he go?”

“He probably didn’t want to hurt you.” Danny sighed.

“What? What did I do?”

“You asked him how he died. That’s like, the ultimate social taboo.”

“I didn’t know that!”

“It’s common sense, dude. Trauma like that has to be shared instead of asked about. Generally.” Danny sighed. “Come on, let’s get off the street and I’ll give you a crash course in manners.”

——

Bruce, upon hearing about the conversation, dove headfirst into researching the after life.

“No, go suck a goat’s genitals, Batsy, I am not helping you adopt a being of the infinite realms!” Constantine hung up on him.

“Hn.” Bruce will adopt the child and give him a home. It’s only a matter of when… and what inter-dimensional loopholes he could find and use in the relevant laws.

Jason was right behind him, because he was going to get answers, dammit.

[gothcsz]

can we talk about javi angry fucking you? like for some reason you guys are having a HUUGE fight and something inside him just snaps and he takes you then and there, wherever you are. he sets a brutal pace and orders you to say his name but it's so much you can't!? ugh, excuse me, i am ovulating and this thought needed to be shared. I desperately need angry rough javi in my life

tags: f!reader, post s3!javi, established relationship, no use of y/n, reader has hair that can be pulled, reader understands spanish, term(s) of endearment (gatita), angst, cussing, break up, arguing, light dub con, smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe irl), saliva as lube, a little bit of exhibitionism, creampie, hurt/no comfort i think, javi being an ass, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

~ 2.1k w/c - gif found on pinterest

a/n: me when i read that you're ovulating. but okay, this prompt was just so angsty and juicy. tyvm for that! i couldn't help but connect this to my fantasize series (you guys should clock in. let's stalk javi together)— but it can totally be read as a standalone! enjoyyyyy 🖤

Dinner with Javier’s family is always a lively affair, filled with chatter, laughter, and the steady clinking of forks and knives against plates.

You’re doing your best to keep up, smiling at the stories being shared and listening to the good-natured teasing from his relatives. But then, one of his cousins starts talking about how Javier’s taking on more responsibilities at the family ranch, taking charge now that Chucho is preparing to step down.

He beams as he talks about it. “You should see Javi. Got the whole thing runnin’ like a machine, and he’ll be takin’ full ownership soon, ain’t that right, Javi?”

You freeze, fork halfway to your mouth. Your eyes snap to your boyfriend, searching his face for any hint of explanation, an acknowledgment, anything that might explain what you’re hearing.

But he just nods with a slight, almost bashful smile, as though this was something you should’ve expected, something he had already told you. Except he hasn’t.

Your heart thuds painfully as your stomach twists, an uncomfortable heat spreading across your face. It’s been months of back-and-forth, of what you thought were shared dreams about moving to the city together, finding a way to make things work while your career takes off.

You’d convinced yourself you were on the same page. But here he is, making other plans, without even thinking to tell you.

You try to keep your tone light, but there’s an unmistakable edge in your voice. “Taking full ownership, huh? Guess that’s news to me.”

Javier shifts in his seat, glancing at you with a look that’s half-warning, half-apologetic. “I am his only son. It makes sense,” he responds, very matter-of-factly.

His family’s already watching, sensing the shift in the air, and there’s no pulling back now.

“Funny, I thought we were still talking about our plans to move to the city,” you force a smile on your lips, but the sting behind your words is unmistakable.

He sighs, clearly getting exasperated, looking at you as if to say, Not here. You can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes, the quiet confusion as they look between you both, piecing together the fragments of a conversation they aren’t meant to hear.

You swallow hard, unable to bear the mix of embarrassment and betrayal.

Pushing back from the table, you excuse yourself, your voice tight. “I need a minute.”

You make it inside, rushing up the stairs and into his bedroom, gathering your things with shaking hands. You know he’s going to follow you, and sure enough, a moment later, you hear the door creak open, then his heavy footsteps.

“What the hell was that?” He demands in a sharp tone, confusion and anger lacing his words.

You spin around, dropping your things onto the bed as you plant your hands on your hips. “Why didn’t you tell me about these new plans of yours, Javier?” 

He sighs heavily, hating when you use his full name, rolling his tongue over his teeth as he tries to find the right words. “Because I knew you’d be upset,” he says flatly, as though it’s an explanation that should satisfy you.

That’s his justification for keeping this from you? The anger inside you flares hotter, bubbling over as you let out a bitter laugh. “So instead, I get to sit there like a fool, blindsided, while your cousin tells me about the future you’re planning without even thinking to clue me in?”

“God, would you calm down?” he mutters, frustration tightening his features. “This isn’t something we need to talk about right now.”

You’re practically shaking, hurt clawing at you. “You don’t get it, do you? You said you’d try this with me. You promised we’d make this work together, that you’d support my career—our future.”

“This is me trying!” he snaps back, his voice rising in frustration. “Why are you being so damn selfish? I can’t just leave my pops to run this place by himself. He’s not getting any younger.”

You search his face, trying to understand, but all you see is irritation and defensiveness.

“He has other ranch hands. Other family. You promised.”

His eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, his jaw clenched. “Why are you making this all about you?” he growls. “If I’d known things would end up like this, I would have left you back in Colombia.”

You’re stunned momentarily, speechless as the weight of his words sinks in.

You shake your head slowly, your voice cold as you look up at him. “You’re a piece of shit, Javier. I can’t believe you would say that to me.”

Your words strike a nerve, a phrase that’s been said to him by plenty of people yet hurting the most when you’re the one saying it. His eyes darken, expression shifting. “What did you just say?” he murmurs, cocking his head as he takes slow steps toward you.

“I said you’re a piece of shit, Javier,” you repeat, steady despite the tremor running through you. “And I’m done with—”

Before you can finish, his hand reaches up, wrapping around your throat tightly yet with careful pressure, and he pulls you close, lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s unyielding and bruising.

Despite the fury burning inside you, your body responds, helplessly drawn to the passion only he can ignite.

Your hands find his shoulders, gripping tightly as he presses you back against the wall, swallowing the soft gasp that escapes your lips when a few of the photo frames rattle.

His mouth is punishing and you can barely breathe with how tight he’s holding you, but there’s something undeniably thrilling about it that licks right through you, even as the hurt from before lingers.

When he finally releases his hold on your neck, his hands become fervent, moving roughly along your body as if claiming you all over again.

Harshly groping your breasts, moving down to cup your ass— you can’t pull him close enough to let this anger turn into the twisted relief you both need.

Clothes fall away in frantic pulls and tugs, shirts and pants pooling on the floor, discarded and forgotten. Between desperate fingers and tongues, you’re too aware that, if you part, the argument will bubble back up, and you don’t want that to happen yet.

His lips move over your skin, leaving love bites that blaze hot and brand you with the one of a kind feeling of him.

You grip his triceps, nails digging in as you drink each other’s breaths, tasting the tension between you, until you’re bare, and your bodies meet in a tangle of angry lust.

He maneuvers you toward the window, your hands bracing against the glass instinctively, the cold against your chest making you gasp.

He presses against you from behind, his body heat searing, grounding you in the storm of emotions that threaten to pull you under.

Your bare breasts flatten against the window, and the chill of the glass has your nipples puckering.

He spits into his hand, tugging at his cock, running it through the sticky mess of your cunt before thrusting into you, making you take every glorious inch all at once.

You gasp loudly, almost choking on the sound. It’s intense, too much, yet somehow exactly what you need, pulling you deeper into the unfiltered feeling pulsing between you.

You aren’t as wet as he usually gets you, and the burn from the stretch of fitting him inside your tight, wet cunt  mimics the burn you’d felt in your heart at his indifference towards you. His girlfriend.

Javier leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he growls, “If they look over here, they’ll see you taking this cock like a real selfish slut.”

The words have your shivering, shocking and exhilarating, just as he is, and your head tilts back as you let out a strangled, breathy moan.

“Causing a scene in front of everyone,” he tuts mockingly, “¿No tienes modales, gatita?” (Don't you have manners?)

Your fingers splay against the window, nails scratching down the surface, making a grating sound, as he thrusts harder, each punch of his cock against that one specific weak spot is sending you closer to the edge.

His rhythm is exacting and every bit of you is caught between the pressure of the cold glass and the heat of his body.

“Say my name,” he orders, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging it harshly, holding you firm against his shoulder as he glares down at you, eyes glazed over with need and his dark brows pulled together in a frown.

Your scalp stings at the pull, pretty eyes rolling to the back of your head and your throat tightens, making it impossible for words to escape you. Your pussy throbs around him, losing the fight against the sensations he’s overwhelming you with.

“Say it,” he demands again, his voice roughened with irritation, but the pace continues to be relentless, borderline uncomfortable, your body bending to his will.

He’s pushed you to a point where you’re nothing but a quivering, whiny mess. The friction of your nipples rubbing against the glass leaves them tender and raw, adding another edge of pleasure-pain.

“Got you all fucked out you can’t even say my damn name.” He chuckles humorously, but it’s drowned out by a low groan as his cock twitches inside of you, the sound of your ass slapping back against his pelvis echoing throughout the room. 

“C’mon gatita, tell me who’s making you feel this good even when you’re pissed off.”

The way he taunts you makes your blood boil, and you have half a mind to turn around and slap him—but it’s so fucking hot and you’re not going to lie to yourself about that.

Instead, you smirk and deliberately clench around him, watching him groan as his fingers tighten in your hair. 

“No seas asi. Say it.” (Don't be like that) He pushes you forward, cheek smushed against the window as his palm presses into your lower back, arching you even more, and that has his cock fucking you at a different angle that is much more overwhelming than the last.

“Ay Javi!” You can’t help but exclaim, some of your saliva landing on the glass from how you spit his name out.

He smirks to himself, that���s all he needs to let his own orgasm rip through him. With one last harsh thrust, he grips your hips, driving deep, a sharp cry breaks free as pleasure shatters through you, your body shaking with release, unable to form a single coherent thought except his name.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, burying his cock fully inside you, his heavy balls pressing against your swollen clit as he fills your cunt with his load.

His forehead falls against your shoulder, teeth then nipping at the damp skin until he’s kissing up to bury his face in your neck.

Your brain is foggy, and it takes a few seconds of you trying to catch your breath before your heart and mind are in sync again and the argument that led to this resurfaces. 

“Javier,” you murmur, your throat scratchy, and you swallow before you can go on, “we shouldn’t have done that.”

He scoffs, pulling out of you, making the both of you hiss. You feel his warm cum leaking from your spent pussy and your thighs twitch, inadvertently making more of it flow out. You quickly bend down to grab your underwear, using it to clean yourself, trying to clear both the physical and emotional remnants of him.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you’re already moving, pulling on your clothes. “I’m done.”

Fully dressed, you watch his expression shift, and it almost makes you second-guess the words you’re about to say. Almost.

“We gave it a shot and clearly, it’s not working. Nuestras prioridades no se alinean.” (Our priorities don't align)

“No seas ridícula,” (Don't be ridiculous) he waves you off and that makes you feel so small. “What’s best for us is to stay here.”

You laugh dryly at the sting of his dismissal. You’re tempted to pinch yourself to check if this is real—wondering if this is the same Javier that practically begged you to come back to the States with him.

He’s not acting like the agent you fell in love with.

“No, what’s best is for us to go our separate ways.” Finality settles into the quiet like stones. “We rushed into this, we let the chase and the sex take the lead without thinking it through.” You shake your head, haphazardly packing to keep from falling apart entirely.

“I should have seen this coming. I’m such an idiot.” Now I see why a handsome man like you was single.

You should have remained the woman you were before him, independent, career focused—the one that avoided relationships like the plague because they only ended in disappointment.

Case in point. 

He remains silent as he watches you pack the rest of your things and it really breaks your heart. He isn’t even trying to stop you.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @persephone-girl . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @angiewatson . @sunshinefive .

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 1

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem) A/N: I don't know what I'm doing here, I'm not even much of a DC fan, but Jason Todd has quickly become my latest hyper fixation character (Harley Quinn too, do I just have a thing for Joker victims???) so ... thank you for giving me a place to put this energy I guess! 😂 I'm not super confident on the characterizations, but I'm going with it because I like it. If it's wildly ooc ... that tracks, given that the only DC comic I've read is Batman: Wayne Family Adventures. Read it, or don't, I just needed to get the thoughts out of my head. The art doesn't belong to me, but the writing does. Please do not post elsewhere!

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, starting out fluffy, will probably get NSFW later so minors DNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

word count: 1.7k

Chapter Selection

In a city known for its masked fighters, you learn pretty quickly that everyone and everything is a potential threat. Every approaching stranger on the street, every loud sound behind you, every dark alleyway. Being bigger than me certainly isn't a prerequisite to being a danger, but it does have a way of setting off my mental alarms. I've found that big men are used to getting their way, and they get all sorts of bent out of shape if you deny them their wishes. Especially when they think they're doing you a favor.

It died down a bit after high school; I learned to exist in public with ‘fuck off’ stamped across my face. Headphones on, reading a book, intentionally seated at the table furthest from the other cafe patrons. All the typical signs of someone who wants to be left alone; nothing about me said ‘please come talk to me'. So I was understandably on edge when I noticed someone standing by the chair across from me. I look up just a bit, gesturing to the chair with a nod. Silent consent to take it back to his table and leave me to my book.

No such luck. The man simply smiled and mimed taking headphones off. Putting a bored look on my face, I moved one off my ear. “... Hm?”

“Hi! I'm sorry to bother you, but my brother thinks you're really beautiful and is refusing to come tell you himself.” 

I could feel my expression turning to stone. “... What is this, middle school?”

His cheerful grin faltered ever so slightly; “hey, I know it's a bit silly, but he's awkward around cute girls, so what's a brother to do, ya know?”

I stared him down; “... You're not fooling anyone. Move on.”

“... Sorry, ‘fooling anyone’?”

“It’s not funny, it’s not even hurtful the 20th time, it's just annoying. Go. Away.” It was a lie; it was always painful to be on the receiving end of these pranks. But that was what these guys wanted, so I wasn't going to tell him that. My headphones back in place, the guy slunk away.

Ten minutes later, another person was standing by the chair. I pretended not to see him, continuing to read my book, until he plopped down in the seat. I looked up slowly and he smiled, another oddly warm smile, leaning forward on his elbows.

An incredibly put-out sigh later, I slid the headphones off one ear again. “What?”

“Hi, I'm Tim! I'm not sure what exactly my brother said to you, but I wanted to let you know - we're not trying to prank you or something. Our brother is just way too awkward with girls. It's painful to watch, really, so we figured we'd give him a hand.” He spoke much too fast for me to get a word in. I blinked a bit, raising an eyebrow.

“... You frat boys are really committing to the bit these days, huh?”

“Huh? No, really, I promise!”

My headphones were nearly back into place when a child showed up. His impatient expression matched how I felt about the whole situation. “As usual, Drake, your plans are far too convoluted to be effective. Watch and learn.”

He turned to me, nothing about his demeanor changing; “hello. Todd said we shouldn't bother you because you ‘clearly want to be alone’, but I am convinced the only way to stop their nonsense is if he comes over. May he have a moment of your time?”

Frowning a little, I stared at the kid. He stared right back, neither of us blinking for a solid minute as we sussed each other out. His expression barely changed, but the boredom in his eyes turned into determination. “... Well, you're definitely not a frat boy. So I'll make you a deal; you may report back that he has permission to come say hi. If he doesn't choose to, that's the end of this little charade. And if either of them” I gestured to the one sitting at my table; “comes back over here, I start stabbing. Got it?”

The boy nodded once, and I thought I saw a ghost of a smirk. “You have my word.” He dragged the other man out of the chair by his shirt, pulling him stumbling toward their table. That was when I saw him. The only person at their table who hadn't come over yet. Even hunched over the table he was enormous, probably close to six feet tall; exactly the kind of man I typically avoided. The kid spoke sharply, pointing in my direction, and his head shot up to look in my direction. Even from across the spacious patio, I could see his face turning red. The obnoxious, cocky smirk I was expecting to see was entirely missing; instead he seemed almost confused.

Headphones back on but turned off so I could hear if he approached, I returned to my book. But I only got through a few pages before the first one shouted; “and offer to get her another coffee or something!”

I looked over to see the tall one frozen halfway between our tables, a look on his face like he was considering jumping over the patio fence to get away. His demeanor reminded me of a lost puppy, and I couldn't help the chuckle that rose up out of my throat. I bookmarked my page, set the book aside, and slid my headphones down around my neck. I really thought he was about to bolt until I lifted one hand, curling my fingers to gesture for him to continue toward me.

He stopped short by a good several feet, eyeing the distance between himself and the chair, and took one extra step back. It seemed as if he was hyper aware of just how much he loomed over me; the way he stood was like he was trying to will himself to be smaller, and he kept his hands at his sides. “Um … hi. … Sorry, this is … this is really weird …”

I nodded, watching him. “It is a bit. … Todd, was it?”

“Jay… Jason.”

“Not Todd?”

“Jason Todd. Damian calls me Todd, he thinks using people's last names keeps them at an arm's length…” Jason Todd. The name felt familiar, but I couldn't place why. He continued to ramble about how important tone was in determining whether this Damian kid was referring to you with affection or disdain, and I watched him. He was admittedly very cute; he had a sort of a bad boy aesthetic -leather jacket, dark clothes, a white streak in his hair, some unusual scars on his face and arms-, which juxtaposed interestingly with the gentleness in his voice, bright eyes, and awkward mannerisms. That was actually the thing that made the most sense about this situation; bikers are often secret teddy bears.

“... Jason?”

He looked up at me, one hand sheepishly making its way into his hair. “Yeah, sorry, you want me to go. I'll get them to stop harassing you, so sorry-”

“Actually, I was going to say you don't have to stand the whole time.” I gestured to the chair across from me.

He hesitated, watching me. “... Y- you don't want me to go?”

I smiled softly and shook my head. “Sit?”

He quickly obeyed, a hesitant smile on his face, which was almost immediately hidden by his hand when his brothers whooped from their table. “... God, I'm so sorry … th- they mean well, really, they're not trying to be weird …”

I laughed softly, “it's fine, that's what siblings do, right?”

“... I guess so … I've been sort of … away for a while, but I guess this is pretty standard sibling behavior. … Right?”

“I mean, a little more insistent than mine, but not too far outside the realm of what I’d consider normal.” I shrugged, finishing my chai latte.

He smiled slightly, considering that. “... Hm … um … c- can I get you another?” He gestured to my cup.

“... Sure, I've got time.”

The pleased grin on his face as he looked away to flag down a server surprised me. Then again, everything about him was surprising. Still, no one had ever looked at me quite like that before… 

The server sauntered over, clearly curious about my new companion. Jason smiled brightly; “Hi, can we get another for the lady? And I'll have a medium black coffee, sweet, please.”

Huh. He called me a ‘lady’. Not a girl, or a chick, a lady. That was … also surprising. We chatted for a little while, sipping our coffees, and tried to ignore his staring brothers. He was incredibly awkward, in a sweet, endearing way. I got the impression that he wasn't fully comfortable, but chalked it up to how weirdly this all started. After a while, the first one returned, a small grimace on his face.

I raised an eyebrow; “I'm pretty sure I told the little one that the next one of you to come over was getting stabbed.”

“I know, I know! I'm so sorry, but Jay, we gotta go. Bruce texted…”

That was when it clicked; why I knew the name Jason Todd. He was a Wayne … his death had dominated the news cycle for a week. His miraculous, frankly poorly explained, return was the story for at least two.

He looked, torn, between me and his brother. “Oh … um …”

The man I finally recognized as Dick Grayson leaned forward and fake-whispered, “the words you're looking for are ‘can I have your phone number'?”

Jason swatted him away, blushing bright red; “Seriously, Dick? … well, can I-”

His ears were turning red as I held my hand out for his phone. I added my contact info and, feeling unusually bold, I added ☕💖 after my name while Jason dropped a couple of bills on the table; I smiled a bit, realizing he was leaving enough to cover my first drink for me too. I passed his phone back, enjoying the look of wonder on his face when he checked the screen. The way he whispered my name, like a prayer meant only for god's ears, had my stomach doing backflips.

“thanks … I'll call you?”

“Sounds good. I'm a night owl, so not too early, yeah?”

He nodded eagerly. “Not too early, promise.”

Next ->

[prncessjaeger]

eren and his mystery cheerleader gf! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

syp: no one believed eren had such a pretty gf…until now

trin speaks!: be mindful i might have errors. it’s normal.  

“so where’s your so-called "girlfriend" at? or did you make this one up too like the last time-”

“oh fuck off, connie, that was one time, and i was 12!” the rest of his friends surrounding him laughed at his embarrassment, (apparently he was the only one without a girlfriend so he made up having one…like i’m talking fake messages and everything.) currently, they were at a rival school’s basketball game since you didn’t go to their school and of course eren decided to come and support you…but his friends armin, connie, and onyankopon tagged along with him, wanting to see who his “special lady” was. “so is the game gonna start or…?” “uh, i think? it just turned 6-” armin was cut off with a set of claps and loud stomps from the side of the bleachers, cheerleaders could be heard shouting a set of words while the boys ran out through the middle of them. parents, children and other spectators could be heard yelling in excitement for the intense game that was yet to happen. 

eren looked around to spot you, finding you sitting on the bottom bleacher scrolling on your phone, and the boys traced his eyesight, “bro no way you date that girl sitting on the bottome row?” “huh?” connie pointed at you, “her? she’s toooo fine to be dating you-” “hey?! what’s wrong with me?” “-she should be dating me!” everyone around him rolled their eyes, “if anything she should date me, black love is the best love-” “right, but she’s entitled to date anyone she dates, besides we don’t know her,” armin was received with blank stares from all three of em while ignoring eren’s mumbling claims of, “i’m the one dating her,” soon or later it was halftime, which was a break time for everyone.

the dance team began to perform and all the cheerleaders went their separate ways. connie and armin went to concessions and onyankopon was talking with a girl he’d just met, so eren searched and searched for you, until he felt a pair of cold, soft hands hindering his vision. “guess whooo~”

“my beautiful baby i’d hope?” you kept his eyes covered as you moved infront of him, then removed them happily, “well you hoped right! hi eren!” you hugged him and sat next to him, leaning into his arms, “oh wait- you see our new uniforms?” “yes, its looks amazing- they added glitter to the school letters?” your curls shooks as you rapidly nodded, “yes! and the other sports coaches complained about it, wanting the letters to be unisex but i mean, glitter is glitter, and THEN the coaches made us run 5 laps before the game because someone left their bow at home, and now…” he turned towards you so he could listen to you better, and once the buzzer went off, you had to bid your goodbye, “you taking me home?” “you think you could ride home with sasha - i have the guys and i don’t wanna make it too crowded, i’ll get you once you get home?” your slight frown turned upside down and you noddied happily, “okay! see ya!” you waved enthusiastically and he waved back, sighing in content. “who’re you waving at?”

“my girlfriend?” they all stared at eren for like 5 seconds, then bursted out laughing at him, “oh man eren, you are too funny!”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

after dropping his friends off, eren sat outside your home, waiting for your arrival and decided to do something that’ll hopefully get into his friends head that he’s actually dating someone. he smirked at his phone, editing up his caption and nearly jumped hearing his car door open, seeing you in his hoodie and some cute grey shorts, “hey baby,” you kissed his cheek and saw his phone, “uhh why are you…?”

“you’ll see.”