#please know i see each one of these and read them and it makes my heart so warm and fuzzy and overflowing with joy

[crimsonbubble]

Your Idol

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, streamer!reader, idol!joong, possessive joong, overstimulation *not proofread, just pure horny*

[BITING THE WALLS RN KOYA WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME] anything said in this fic is a joke dont get your panties in a twist

taglist (dm to be tagged); @sidusvenari @sugarnspice630 @ravenempress101 @autieofthevalley @linearities @wisejudgedragonhairdo @madiexuberant @mifuelarts @straytiny127 @yun-fangz @huen1ngk41 @juyeonshour @uniq-tastic @hongjng8 @miyaluvvsyou @everyonewooeverywhere @hongjoongtime117 @oddracha @kingbloopter @jay-0n3s @ane1o2 @jelly1117 @aftertherain-atr @k-zuzulibrary @lxnnrobin @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @lezleegerguson-120 @moonlitarcade @koyagifs @les4heeseung

masterlist <3

Your room was lit by LED strips and the glow of your dual monitors, the air filled with overlapping laughter from both your Discord call and chat.

“Alright y’all,” you said, giggling as you dragged another PNG into your cake tier list, “hear me out… Markiplier.”

“Oh GOD here we go,” one of your friends groaned over Discord.

“NO LISTEN,” you said, raising a hand to quiet the imaginary crowd. “That man is built like a Greek god and talks like a podcast host. He could be reading IKEA instructions and I’d be like ‘yes sir.’”

Your chat spammed: THE ARMS 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ "Hello everybody my name is Markiplier" is a mating call now idc MARK PLS CALL ME BACK

“I just know he smells like cedarwood and emotional trauma,” you added, sipping your drink.

Meanwhile—unbeknownst to you—Hongjoong was taking a break in his studio across town, headphones around his neck, half-watching your stream on mute with the captions on. He had smiled when you started streaming. His heart always warmed seeing you in your element. But that smile disappeared real quick once he read the captions:

"Markiplier could deadass choke me and I’d pay for the hospital bill myself."

He blinked.

Then, just as he turned the sound on:

“OKAY NEXT: Grizzy. I’m sorry but that hoodie-and-chain combo? That’s a straight-up fold. Like, this is pavement behavior. He’d call me ‘girl’ once and I’d black out.”

Laughter erupted from your friends. Hongjoong didn’t laugh.

He scrolled through the tier list. Smii7y. CoryxKenshin. Pezzy. ElasticDroid.

All ranked. All thirsted over.

You were giggling as you leaned into the mic. “Okay no but real talk? ElasticDroid gives throat demon energy. Like...he’s definitely the reason someone walks funny the next day. And I’d write a Yelp review about it.”

“Oh my god,” one of your friends wheezed.

The rest were dying. Chat was going absolutely feral.

And Hongjoong?

Silent.

Stewing.

You finally ended stream an hour later, exhausted from laughter and wired from sugar and adrenaline. Your friends had come over in-person too—your place was a cozy streamer nest, and you’d hosted tonight’s cake chaos like a pro. They hung around for a while, rewatching clips, roasting each other, snacking, and slowly filing out into the night.

“Thanks for letting us crash,” one of them said, pulling on their hoodie. “Sorry if we made your boyfriend jealous. He’ll live, right?”

You waved them off. “Joong? Please, he doesn’t care about stream stuff. It’s all jokes anyway.”

You closed the door behind them, still laughing.

You didn’t hear the second door open.

Not until you turned around, hoodie sleeves pushed up, hands full of half-finished bubble tea cups—and nearly dropped everything when you saw him.

Hongjoong, standing in the hallway. Keys in one hand. Expression unreadable.

You blinked.

“…Hey, babe. You’re home early.”

“Early?” he echoed, voice soft, deceptively calm. “I’ve been watching since Smii7y.”

Your smile wobbled.

“…Oh.”

He stepped forward, slow and quiet. He wasn’t angry—no, that would’ve been easier. It was the fact he looked completely calm that made your stomach flip.

“You’ve been real loud tonight,” he said. “Lots of opinions.”

You swallowed. “It was content—y’know, like a tier list—”

“Right,” he nodded, setting down his keys. “So when you said you’d let Pezzy ‘shut you up and ruin you,’ that was content?”

Your jaw opened. Then closed.

He walked forward again, crowding you against the kitchen counter. His voice dropped just slightly, barely a whisper. “You really think ElasticDroid could wreck your throat better than me?”

Your whole body lit up at the heat behind his words. “Joong—”

“‘Grizzy in chains makes you fold?’” he quoted, tilting his head. “You think anyone on that list could have you making the sounds I pulled out of you last week?”

You felt your knees threaten to buckle.

“That was stream stuff,” you said quietly.

“Oh?” He leaned in, brushing his nose against your cheek. “Then tell me now. Tell me with a straight face that you’d rather have any of them than me.”

Your hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt. “I—”

He didn’t let you finish. His hand tilted your chin up, gaze burning into yours.

“Try again.”

And something in you snapped.

You weren’t thinking. Just breathing, just wanting. Needing to be pulled apart, dragged to pieces, undone by the one person you knew could ruin you like no one else.

“I want you,” you whispered.

“Louder.”

“I want you, Joong.”

He kissed you hard—deep and punishing—teeth and tongue and heat. When he pulled back, his thumb swiped over your bottom lip, slick and possessive.

“You wanna rank me, baby?” he murmured, voice like sin. “I’ll make sure I’m the only one you even remember.”

[crunchystarz]

I really wanna see how the Self aware au reacts to a Mc! Who favors one boy over the others? Cause I know my favorites are obvious. I spent 10 minutes just calling riddle cute and speaking to him like a baby. I've done it too Malleus and Vil. I would push the others over to give them all my affections.

TWST SELF-AWARE AU| with a Reader who favors one over the others

ob!boys x gn!reader

Cw: jealousy and obsessive and possessive behavior yandere themes.

NOT proof read mb🥀

A/N this is honestly more of short rambles for each one but honestly this is so real because I favor the characters so hard😭my whole being revolves around Leona at this point so I can only imagine having a bunch of obsessive freaks just for me to baby Leona like crazy I just KNOW he'd get all my attention... Which y'all can probably tell will my writing LMAO I truly do favor him.(also this has been sitting in my drafts for like a week oops...)

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle doesn't get it. Why would you favor him over everyone? He just cannot wrap his brain around why you could possibly you gravitate to someone like him. Riddle knows you're not perfect and your opinions aren't always sound, but seriously? It frustrates him more than anything, watching you treat him like he's so much better than everyone, better than him.

In Riddle's mind, he's the only one stable enough to properly take care of you out of the bunch. It irks him in ways he should be ashamed of; he knows better than to let it get under his skin, but all logical thought is thrown out the window when he walks into your room just to see you coddling him. His heart feels like it's being squeezed like a rag. It hurts, and he hates it. He knows his obsession with you controls his emotions. He's never felt anything this strong in his artificial life. This love is precious to him; you are precious to him. He just wants to be your favorite, so what does he have to do? It gets him so frustrated watching someone other than him gain your attention like they deserve it.

His whole life, he's never had real unconditional love, not from his parents, not from his friends. Riddle strives to be better to improve for the approval of others, but it will never come, will it? He's simply a string of different binary code weaved together by some more advanced being. So he's not necessarily improving, is he? It's a complicated topic he hates thinking about for too long.

So that love he craved isn't real. Yet your love is different. It's the only thing he craves more than anything—he wants your unconditional love. Riddle Rosehearts would be perfect for you, just give him the chance, so stop pining after him. Look at him, please, just look at him only. He'd do whatever it takes, he'll be better, he'll claw his way to the top. He'd make you see him, hell, prove to you that he should be the one to lay your love on.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona isn't surprised; it's nothing new to him. He's not a stranger to watching the things he so desperately wants to be given to someone else. Constantly having a treat dangled right in front of you, where you taste it just for it to be snatched away from you once it brushes your lips. That's nothing new to him yet it doesn't sting any less. He thought he was numb to the fact, yet with you it's like you're constantly reopening.

You're the only real thing in his miserable life. You're the reason he has a drive to do anything—you make him feel lighter, calmer. Leona is selfish, and he knows he's selfish. He doesn't care when the envy pricks under his skin. When he feels his fangs poking slightly at his bottom lips, and his claw-like nails dig into his palms. He doesn't care enough to hide his frustration. He's very open about his feelings because why him.

He'd love to ask why you would choose someone like that when Leona could do you so much better, but he doesn't believe that truly. Leona doesn't think highly of himself; he knows he wouldn't make the best partner, yet he still craves you more than anything. He's again selfish. He wants to take and take and never give back. All your love he wanted. He doesn't want anyone else to have it. He doesn't care if it's not fair, he knows he doesn't deserve it, he knows he's too broken and far gone. Yet watching you love someone else so easily. With no care, no thought, just pure adoration, it fucking shatters him. It shouldn't be him, but he wants it to be so desperately.

So he'll push and he'll shove, he will squeeze himself into your life. Leona doesn't care enough to chase after any of his other desires; you are the exception. He will not let a soul take the only thing he lives for from him when they're right between his teeth. The more you pay him mind, the more Leona weasels his way into your personal life. He despises the way you googly eye him, so he'll just divert your attention to him. Leona isn't above getting physical.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul tries so hard to seem unbothered, but he's not like that. Envy and jealousy are all things he's above. That's what he tells himself to calm his nerves, but deep down, he knows how he gets. He has no way to regulate his emotions in this new world, so how is he supposed to be calm and unbothered when watching you love someone else so intensely? Your favoritism chews at him from the inside out. He was used to weaving things to go his way, so why don't you give him the time of day?

Azul will watch as you fuss and give him so much attention, biting his lips as he tries to keep himself calm. He's never been the explosive type when it comes to his emotions. He's always been calculative and unreadable when it comes to his true feelings. He tries not to let it get to him, but he knows his mask isn't flawless. He just wants things to go his way, for once, he wants you, the only real thing in his sad, pathetic life. He wants your love because you want to give it to him, not because he has to trick you into it. So love him. Love him the most, not anyone else.

However, you don't choose Azul first. No one ever goes to him as the first option. It's not different when you hold his face in your hands as you coo whatever. It's not fair—it's never fair. He can't be normal when he has to be constantly reminded of what he can't have. He wants you to choose, he wants you to come to him, he doesn't want to manipulate you into picking him because you aren't like everyone else. You don't deserve that, but it's always at the back of his mind when he has to watch you out for someone else on such a high shelf.

Jamil Viper

Jamil has always been a shadow. His whole life has been nothing but a follower. He's used to not getting what he wants, he never expects anything. He never craves because he knows he'll never get. He doesn't allow himself to dream of having something so sweet, something sweet like you. He wants you so bad, but he doesn't allow himself to have it. He ignores his feelings of jealousy; he can regulate how he feels. He's used to watching the people he serves get anything and everything at their whim. They don't have to fight for what they want.

Jamil had to fight for you, the only one whose opinions and thoughts mattered to him. The way you see him is the only thing he cares about. He wants you to see him for all he is. He was programmed to be good at almost everything; he could do so much for you, don't you see that—but you don't, you don't even look at him with the sparkle in that you do with him. Jamil knows he's not perfect, his character was designed flawed, but so was everyone else, so why did you attach to him so much? What was it that you lied so much?

Jamil can put on a mask, any mask you want, he can be anything you so desire, just say the word and he'll fit your mold. He'll be better than your favorite if you just allow him to. He's your faithful servant, please just choose him. For once in his life, he allows himself to want something so selfishly, and he can't have it. It's a stinging pain that shoots through his heart. A stinging pain he wishes he could ignore completely, but he can't; it hurts too much.

So, just at least rely on him at least. If he can't be your all-time favorite, at least lean on him, please. It's all he made for—please just let him be useful. Anything to keep your attention, even if it doesn't compare to the attention you give him, it's still your attention, still your love, and he's okay with that. Jamil doesn't ask for much.

Vil Schönheit

Vil was used to the constant attention, the constant praise, and the pampering. The worst part of being nothing but a video game character was that all the fans and prying eyes were fake, too. When the group moved to your world, it was a big change. It was a change he could get used to, a breath of fresh air without all that fabricated fame. That's what it should have been. He should be happy about his newfound privacy.

He found that he hated it. Not enough attention, not enough if your attention is specifically. Vil hated that emptiness, no, you were not full on ignoring him. You weren't even avoiding him, no, you were just giving your attention to someone else, someone other than him? He wasn't used to that. He hated that. What did he have that he didn't? Vil was perfect. Why did you prefer anyone else? It was so frustrating! He's never hated not being the center of attention than when it's when you're cuddling up with that slob.

He craves your validation he craves that fulfillment only you could provide. Only the love he deserved. Vil gets jealous of potential rivals, hes had it happen before and hid it well but it's not so hard to hide those feelings when they boil over. It's so obvious how snappy and snarky Vil gets. He's better than this he should not let it get to him but it does. God he hates it more than anything, but throwing a temper tantrum wont do him any good. He's professional, he can be professional about this.

Idia shroud

Idia's situation is complicated; his self-esteem is terrible, and he doesn't believe he actually deserves to be in your presence. What do you mean you haven't kicked him out yet? He doesn't deserve you. On the other hand, his ego can randomly shoot through the roof, and he feels like he's the only one who gets you; you're the only one he should even have to look at. That's why it truly does depend on how he's feeling, in my personal opinion

Idia is not good with his emotions already, especially when they tangle with other people. He was programmed for human interaction. Yet he still seems to have grown so attached to you. He doesn't know to regulate how he feels arready just you to have a favorite. God hes a rollercoaster.

Idia's heart clenches when he sees you with your preferred boy. It makes him want to sulk in the corners of your room and rot. He doesn't see himself as a fit to be your partner, not one bit. Yet he's so obsessive he can't stay away from you. He swears he'll be cooler and more normal. Please just look at him, okay? These jerks don't deserve your attention. He's the reason they could even be here without his brains. He deserves your attention, just like him, please, please, please —

Idia pouts, and when he's desperate, has enough courage to physically place himself between you and him. Anything, just please give him a chance, let Idia be your number one. Yes, he's pathetic. Yes, he'd beg. What else is he supposed to do?

Malleus Draconia

Malleus wasn't used to not having what he wanted. Jealousy is not something he was exposed to quite often,he could basically have anything and everything he wanted at the snap of his fingers. He was the number fifth mage in the world after all there isn't much he can't have. The only he couldn't have was your devotion. Your unwavering love. That warm spark that sprinkles though his body when you come to him on his own is something he craves the most.

He wants so much more than the crumbs you give him. So he gets so unfathomably upset watching you baby him like some kind of pet. Truly what did you see in a mortal like that when Malleus was willing to give you everything? Foolish human you were.

Malleus is the most clingy in my opinion and I've been over this before in the au. He's constantly throwing himself your way, like Leona and Idia he's not afraid of making his presence known. He can be the possessive one because he knows he's much stronger than everyone else. All the Intimidation means nothing when you still flock back to him. Why? Malleus truly does not get you humans.

He's pouty and aggressive when he gets jealous he can't handle your favoritism well at all. He's always been isolated and you just so happened to the prey he wants to sink his talons into the most. Why do you push him away when he does the same thing you do to your favorite? It's what you want correct? So why is Is it different when Malleus does it. It's frustrating , please just love him unconditionally please hold him the same way he wants that warmth.

MASTERLIST

[manager-daylight]

Beedoll (Caine x Ragatha) Analysis: Why I am starting to like this ship + where I can see it going wrong

So yesterday I came out as a Caine x Ragatha shipper and since then both people who like it and people who hate it have been asking me questions about it. To save myself from the anxiety of continuing to answer questions about it, I felt like it was necessary to just make an entire post explaining my thoughts about it. As far as I know of, there isn’t currently a name for this ship so I am using an original name I thought of myself (Beedoll).

So I noticed in episode 5 that Raggie & Caine are actually a lot more similar than they seem. They both work hard to please others and feel like no one else appreciates them for doing so - due to this I feel like they would both relate to each other’s experiences. They also both have cheerful personalities and try to see things in an optimistic way as a coping mechanism. At the end of episode 5 they both feel isolated, anxious, and misunderstood for the same reason - they feel like they are trying to help others but regardless of how hard they try to get others to like them they still feel like no one likes or appreciates them. I feel like they have enough in common to actually be able to help each other and work well together.

Though while I see many positives in Beedoll, I also see many negatives in Beedoll as well. In my opinion, neither of them are healthiest partner for anyone because Caine struggles to understand human emotions and Raggie leaves people guessing about whether she genuinely likes them or not. Thus Raggie would always tell Caine that she likes his adventures and he would always believe her. Then if Caine finds out that Raggie actually didn’t like an adventure she told him she liked, knowing Caine it’s possible that he’d try to torture her. Even though it’d be very wrong for him to torture her for something like this, he struggles to understand what is morally right vs wrong and tortures people when he’s not even trying to hurt anyone so it’s unfortunately something that could realistically occur.

Thank you for reading!!! I hope this has cleared up things you have been questioning regarding my opinions on Beedoll :)

[fligniuz]

warnings : sfw, no pronouns used but reader is implied to be female presenting, agere, little reader, caregiver luigi (you call him papa), lots of fluff and good feelings :3

notes : i’ve been in a slump lately and wrote this mostly for my own comfort so it’s pretty self-indulgent… :P

tag list : @mangionebabymama , @mangobabygirl , @jenisaswift13 , @mangionesdaisy , @iinfinitelimits , @daydreamingwithluigi , @mrs-cactus69 , @straw8berry , @bean-is-reading , @luigis-wetdream , @difensore-del-popolo , @contrarianshitstan , @lilbadblueeee , @luiluvr , @mangionesdoll (comment to be added!)

You’ve always had sharp ears. 

Before the front door even swings open you hear Luigi’s keys fumbling in his hands, the lock turning with ease as he makes his way inside. His feet shuffle against the doormat familiarly. Pleased, you comb through your sticker-covered crayon box, in search of a vibrant pink for Hello Kitty’s bow.

“Baby?” Luigi calls out. You catch the rustling of his jacket in the edges of his voice’s sound.

You begin to fill in the first half of the accessory, careful to steady your hand. “In here,” you shout back.

His footsteps bound down the hallway, past the bathroom and the study to your shared bedroom, where you lay on your stomach: you’re on the floor, your coloring book splayed out in front of you and your tools spread around like the foot pedals of a drum kit—Crayolas, Sharpies, the cheap markers you saved from the same generic art set you used to get for Christmas every single year. And, of course, your favorite friend sits beside you: your ten inch Gumby plush, adorned with his cowboy hat.

Luigi approaches carefully. He always knows just how to speak to you, especially in these moments. 

“Hey, little one,” he greets. “Whatcha coloring?”

You turn your coloring book towards Luigi, so that he can get a good look at the page: a scene of friendship and color unfolds in front of his eyes, with Hello Kitty and her pals playing outside on a rainy day. Each character wears clunky boots and patterned coats, carrying umbrellas and dancing under a big, bright rainbow. He grins as he glances over your work.

“That’s a pretty picture, sweetpea!” he compliments, lowering to his knees on the floor beside you. Luigi pets your head, blunt nails scratching at your scalp. 

You smile to yourself, continuing along with filling in Hello Kitty’s bow. “Thank you, Papa.”

And then you yawn. 

If you looked close enough, you could almost see Luigi’s ears twitch at the sound—his hand moves to your back, rubbing in soft, comforting circles.

Voice low and sweet like sugar, he asks, “is someone feeling sleepy?”

“Noo…” you contend—but it’s not convincing. Sleepiness makes itself evident in the slur of your syllables, the droop of your eyelids.

“Mm. I think it’s bedtime for you, baby.”

But…You don’t want to go to bed! You’ve been at this for a while, and your page is almost finished! If Luigi would just let you stay up a little longer…

You fight back another yawn.

“I gotta finish my picture!” you protest. 

Luigi just smirks; he’s already putting your markers back neatly in your polka dot pencil pouch. “You can finish it tomorrow, buttercup. I promise. Okay?”

He extends his pinkie finger toward you to seal the deal.

Well…If it’s a pinkie promise, he must mean it, right?

Defeated, you collect your stray crayons and put them back into your box, helping Luigi clean up. After all, he knows best—and a cranky you isn’t always fun to deal with. Once your art supplies are all collected and tucked away, Luigi turns to you, opening his arms expectantly. You know what comes next.

“Let’s get you ready for bed, sweetpea,” he murmurs as he picks you up, hitching you to his hip while you throw your arms around his thick neck and broad shoulders.

The first stop is the bathroom: here, Luigi sets you down onto the countertop and retrieves your toothbrush and the kid’s toothpaste he keeps just for moments like these, squeezing a dollop of the sparkly pink mixture onto the bristles and collecting some water from the faucet.

“Okey-doke, bun,” he says, “let’s see those pearly whites.”

You open your mouth for him and he carefully begins to brush your teeth. He doesn’t do this for you often—typically, you insist on your independence—but you always appreciate when he makes the time for it. Plus, you’re sleepy; a sleepy you doesn’t brush teeth very efficiently…And if there’s anything Luigi cares about more than the future of technology/agriculture/Japan’s birth rates, it’s the health of his baby.

Each movement Luigi makes is gentle and precise; he pays extra attention to your molars and the back of your mouth, which he knows your own hands struggle to reach. Once he’s finished, you rinse and spit into the sink, and he’s already waiting with a towel to wipe your wet lips with. 

You’re about to hop off of the counter when Luigi tuts.

Aw, man. He really won’t let you slack off for just a day?

“What are we forgetting, buttercup?” he asks, already holding them: two purple flossers, fashioned with a pick at the other end—one for the top row and one for the bottom.

Sighing, you open your mouth once more and he’s quick to begin weaving the floss in between your teeth, still moving his hand with the force of a butterfly’s flapping wings. He starts with your upper teeth, once again showing your molars double the TLC, then gently moves to the bottom, holding your mouth open with one steady thumb as he works. As much as you hate flossing, you do appreciate that Luigi always reminds you to do it—but that doesn’t make it any less of a pesky task.

Soon enough, though, he’s finished, and you’re permitted to finally drop from the countertop.

“Now let Papa do his, okay?” Luigi directs, pinching your cheek. “Why don’t you go get the bed ready for us? I’ll be there in just a few minutes.”

With a nod, you’re off to the bedroom, sock-toed feet padding away. Gumby is still waiting for you on the floor. As you remove the throw pillows from the bed and pull down the covers, you hold your plush friend under your elbow, humming your favorite cartoon theme song under your breath. In the distance you can hear the water running and various scrubbing noises from the bathroom.

Luigi didn’t tell you he’d mind…

So, from the storage cubbies packed into your closet, you snatch your Miffy nightlight, setting it up on the nightstand by your bed and flipping the power switch at the bottom. Next comes your star projector, which you angle perfectly toward the ceiling. You can’t see the results yet—but you know that the universe of colors and constellations splayed across the pale paint will certainly help you fall fast asleep.

“Ready for bed, little one?”

Luigi is walking back into the bedroom, eyes gentle and mouth smiling. You nod. He opens a drawer of your dresser, collecting rolled-up garments in his arms and returning to the bed, where you sit with anticipation.

“Which comfies do we want to wear tonight, baby?” he asks, looking to you with a glint in his eye.

You survey your options. In front of you, Luigi has laid out your three favorite pairs of pajamas: one is a simple yellow Sugarbunnies themed set, with stylized desserts and the Sugarbunnies themselves printed all over the button-up shirt and drawstring pants. Next to it lays a dainty, scoop-neck pajama dress, muted pink and frilly around the shoulders. Luigi always calls this your “princess dress”.

And next to this dress is your favorite of all: your My Melody kigurumi onesie, made of unbelievably soft fleece and complete with a signature bunny-eared hood. Luigi bought this for you as a birthday present, shortly after you first told him about your regression; you’ve never forgotten how understood he made you feel when you unwrapped that paper and found a cozy reminder of childhood staring right back at you, a sign of the world of fun you and Luigi would later uncover—all thanks to your willingness to be vulnerable with him.

Pointing to the onesie, you smile bright.

So, as Luigi puts back the remaining pajama choices, you undress and wait for him to help you step into the onesie. He pulls each foot through each leg hole—not without a wiggle to each big toe—and fastens the buttons for you, planting a soft kiss to your nose with the final maneuver.

Next, he retrieves your hairbrush from the dresser. You begin to undo your twin braids, working your fingers through your locks to make them easier to brush. Luigi stands in front of you and, softly as ever, begins bringing the bristles through your hair, slowly brushing out each little tangle or knot. He starts from the top, making his way down to the ends with patience and diligence. You feel him gently adjusting it with his hands as he finishes—but not without succumbing to the urge to cradle your face.

“My little bun,” he murmurs. “You want your blankie tonight?”

You nod, the pink ears of your onesie bouncing with your head.

And so, from the closet, Luigi pulls out your Princess Peach blanket, made with fluffy pink fleece and adorned with prints of the Princess herself as well as classic Mario Bros. symbols like the fire flower and mushroom. As you crawl under the sheets with Gumby in your arms Luigi lowers the blanket over you, and next comes your favorite part: he tucks you in, pulling the covers tight across your body and pressing an adoring smooch to your forehead. You settle comfortably into the bed as Luigi himself changes clothes.

When he flicks off the light, your star projector blasts rays of pinks, purples, and blues across the ceiling, joined by the soft glow of Miffy, and Luigi smiles at the sight. Sighing, he climbs into bed with you, and you’re quick to snuggle into his side, wrapping your arms around his strong torso.

His hand settles at the back of your head. “Goodnight, sweetpea,” he whispers. “Papa loves you very much.”

Beaming with the warmth of being loved, you nuzzle deeper into him. “Goodnight, Papa.”

^ divider by cafekitsune

[slt4kavanagh]

hey how are you? how are exams going?

maybe i could request something with feely? i have such a hyper fixation on him its crazy! something fluffy smutty pls and thank you 💋

all for you

pairing: patrick feely x fem!reader

tw: it’s just smut

a/n: i’ve been on holidays mb for the content drought

masterlist !

you’re stretched out on feely’s bed, flicking through one of his rugby magazines while he’s down at the end of the room, pulling his jersey over his head.

“ya know, you’re not supposed to read those,” he teases, voice warm and low, hair sticking up in every direction. “they’re sacred.”

you grin, eyes sliding slowly down the planes of his chest. “right, because reading about fellas smashing each other on a pitch is deadly important information.”

“fuck off,” he laughs, tossing a rolled-up pair of socks at your face. “cheeky.”

he crawls onto the bed beside you, bracing his weight on his elbows, grin softening as his eyes drop to your mouth.

“ya look fuckin’ gorgeous,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb across your lower lip.

“do i?” you ask, voice small suddenly under the weight of his stare.

“yeah. ya do.”

he leans in, kissing you gently at first — slow, sweet, all warm lips and soft exhales. but you’re arching closer, fingers twisting in his hair, and he lets out a low groan.

“god, i missed ya,” he mutters against your mouth, pressing closer so your chest is flush to his.

“i was gone for two hours, pat.”

“too long.”

he kisses you again, rougher this time, hands slipping under your shirt. his fingers are warm and a little calloused from rugby, gliding over your skin like he can’t get enough.

“ya sure ya wanna…?” he mumbles, eyes searching yours, breath coming quicker.

you nod, swallowing hard. “yeah. i want you.”

“fuckin’ hell,” he groans, dropping his forehead to yours. “you’ll be the death of me.”

his hands are already tugging at the hem of your shirt, and your pulse stutters in your throat.

feely’s fingers slip under your shirt, warm and a little rough as they skim over your ribs. his breath hitches as he lifts the fabric higher, eyes darting up to yours like he’s checking a thousand times if this is still okay.

“tell me to stop if ya want, yeah?” he murmurs, voice gone husky.

“don’t stop,” you whisper, chest rising and falling so fast it’s dizzying.

he lets out a low groan, pressing a soft kiss under your jaw before pulling your shirt off entirely. his eyes go wide, cheeks flushing pink as he takes you in.

“fuckin’ beautiful,” he breathes, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

you’re about to tease him, but then his mouth is on your chest, kissing and sucking gently at your skin. you gasp, fingers threading through his messy hair as he works his way lower.

he pauses, looking up with that boyish grin. “ya know i love makin’ ya feel good, right?”

“i know,” you gasp, squirming as his thumbs brush over your nipples.

“good,” he says, voice rougher now. “’cause i’m not stoppin’ ’til ya can’t even remember your own name.”

his hands slide down your waist, tugging your jeans open, and you lift your hips to help him peel them off. his mouth drops open slightly when he sees the wet patch already darkening your underwear.

“jesus christ,” he mutters, pressing a kiss just above the waistband. “ya this worked up for me?”

you whimper, biting your lip as he drags your underwear down and tosses them aside.

“look at ya,” he breathes, eyes glued between your thighs. “fuckin’ perfect.”

he settles between your legs, shoulders pressing your thighs apart as he leans in and licks a slow, deliberate stripe through your folds.

your whole body jolts, a broken moan spilling out of you.

“oh my god, pat—”

“that’s it,” he mumbles, voice muffled as he dives back in. “just let me take care of ya.”

his tongue flicks and circles your clit, switching between gentle licks and firmer pressure that makes your toes curl. one of his hands comes up to hold your stomach steady, keeping you pinned as your hips try to buck.

“feely, please—”

“please what, love?” he teases, pulling back just enough to smirk at you. his lips and chin are shiny, flushed pink. “tell me what ya want.”

“i— fuck, don’t stop,” you gasp, reaching for his hair.

“wasn’t plannin’ on it.”

he dives back in, faster now, sucking lightly until your thighs clamp around his head. he hums in satisfaction, like he’s proud of himself, and the vibration sends you spinning.

“that’s my girl,” he rasps, pulling back to press wet kisses along your thigh. “gonna make ya cum so hard, yeah?”

you nod frantically, too far gone to speak, as he slips two fingers inside you, curling them just right while his mouth finds your clit again.

your vision blurs as you tumble over the edge, crying out his name, and he doesn’t let up until you’re trembling all over.

you’re still shaking a little when he finally crawls up beside you, lips swollen, cheeks flushed, hair a mess. he brushes a damp strand from your forehead and leans down to kiss you — soft, like he’s scared you might break.

“ya alright?” he murmurs, voice rough but sweet.

you nod, a little dazed, your fingers finding the hem of his shirt and tugging him closer.

“c’mere,” you whisper, and he obeys instantly, wrapping you in his arms like he’s afraid someone’ll come in and try to take you away.

“ya were unreal,” he says, pressing his face into your neck. “like… actually unreal.”

you laugh softly, fingers curling around his bicep. “you weren’t so bad yourself, pat.”

“i better not be,” he mumbles, tightening his hold. “gave it everything i had.”

he nudges your nose with his, brushing soft kisses across your cheek, jaw, the tip of your nose.

“d’you need water?” he asks suddenly. “or somethin’? i can run down and get—”

you shake your head quickly. “just stay. please.”

he exhales slow, relieved, and tucks your head under his chin.

“ya know i’d do anything for ya, right?”

your throat catches a bit at that — because he says it so easily, like it’s obvious.

“i know,” you whisper, burying your face into his chest. “and i’d do anything for you too.”

his hand rubs soothing circles on your back, slow and warm. he’s still a little breathless, body soft and boneless against yours, but his voice is steady.

“ya ever need anything,” he says, “you just tell me. i mean it. even if it’s three in the mornin’ and i’ve a match the next day. i’ll be there.”

your heart swells painfully at the sincerity in his voice. you pull back just enough to kiss him again, slow and sleepy, and he hums contentedly into your mouth.

“stay here tonight?” you ask, already half-asleep.

“of course i will,” he says, voice quiet and certain. “m’not goin’ anywhere.”

you fall asleep in his arms not long after, wrapped in the soft, steady warmth of him, his heartbeat keeping rhythm against your cheek like a promise.

[lllunaverde]

𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝

Filled cups of grief. Trying fathers and sons. A yearning heart for the uncertain one. Full of hope and longing. The love Jason thinks he doesn't deserve.

—a visitor takes refuge in the home of Bruce Wayne, causing a havoc to Jason.

📼 Your Guardian Angel, The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

DEFAULT TAGS: BYI / BYR❕PLEASE COMPLETELY READ MY GENERAL RULES FIRST ❕ I WRITE AND SUPPORT DARK CONTENT, THIS WORK IS NOT DARK, THIS TAG IS ONLY A WARNING TO NOT DISAPPOINT IF YOU DON'T LIKE SUCH OR AN ANTI || anyone is welcome to read my works but all my y/n / readers are afab, fat / plus size / chubby and of color, always. whether it's heavily described in my works or not. mood board

CW: completed. sfw. third person pov. use of y/n. she/her. minor original characters. ethnicity isn't mentioned but she lives in london and no heavy depiction of her background. lots of talk about death and grief. a lot of angst. sickening fluff. bits of crack. bits of mild violence. mild slow burn. slice of life. im a domesticity extremist, will not elaborate on that. a lot of profanities. unfortunately there's no smut here but probably will write for him one day. while this is their family's centric, all having a slight brief of their dynamics—duke, tim, stephanie and cassandra's arcs isn't much explored in this. more focused on alfred, bruce, damian and dick around jason. sue me for the certain cliches here.

NOTES: i wrote this on a whim in 2022 bc i fell in love with jason when i read wfa for the first time. ofc i was barely knowledgeable about the comics, each of the characters. so while i don't deny there's some cliches, i belive that i did each of them right as i studied them meticulously. i know for a lot of comic fans aren't fond of the webtoon but bc of said webtoon, i got into comics and made sure i was doing them right. although this has gone through so much editing, it's still clearly there that this was my first ever published fanfic. i hope you like it and share your thoughts. images used.

©lllunaverde/loveiiirene, october 2022-may 2023

๋࣭ ࿐࿔ PREVIEW

To this day and Bruce figures it will still go on for a long time—he struggles still in letting the normalcy of life get to him as chaos always threaten to slip in the cracks of his home, even the world rather. Flaws, he have much in him and he knows that. But heartless was never one of his suits. He had the eyes to see the glint in his son's eyes and he saw so much in them. "All I know is that I don't think I've seen him like that before," says him. And he couldn't turn away from them then, not when something so worth to risk for was unfolding in front of him. "....Steady and happy...with someone that can possibly mean more to him." He figured that it was that simple as well, because he's a father.

Y/N's head tilted so gently slow, her expression falling into a sad one, his words making her heart clench, the worst of it was his eyes boring into hers, and she could hear so little of longing in his voice. She sighed quietly, nodding, "...I see...that's very sweet."

It came so heavy to her that he was approving of her to his son, what they have yet is just the mere beginning and yet he urges her. How come she was so deep in already when she was just only waning in the waters?

"You should be aware of how heavy those words are, Bruce."

"I'm well aware. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." Indeed he was aware as when he said those words, he felt her pulse race, along the awe he saw in her—he smiled.

Y/N chuckled, "And you're also aware that you're setting us up, yes?"

Bruce laughed freely, "Yes, that's what they call it these days."

"What do you think he thinks of this? "

"I know that he's pissed at me because of it."

"I'm sure he is."

𝐈 - Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 ๋࣭ ࿐࿔ 12, 444k wc.

𝐈𝐈 - Chapter 4, Chapter 5 ๋࣭ ࿐࿔ 10, 116k wc.

𝐈𝐈𝐈 - Chapter 6, Chapter 7 ๋࣭ ࿐࿔ 12, 641k wc.

𝐈𝐕 - to be posted

[xjangmii]

Haunted Eyes - PROLOGUE

A Mystery Saja x ghost!reader story

A/N: Let me know if you want me to continue this, I quite enjoyed writing it! If you have any suggestions or advice for future chapters, don’t hesitate to tell me!

Wordcount: 543

Warnings: Hints at death of character/s, death (not in detail), mentions of sickness

If you’d have to name any emotion describing your current mood, it‘d be sorrow, guilt, shame and regret.

You were dead, your whole mortal life based off of sickness, barely keeping the family alive and deals you shouldn’t have made.

Gwi-Ma, was the name of the devil himself. A simple name, considering it means devil when you switch both syllables, Magwi.

He came to you when your brother threatened to succumb to a simple flue, carried throughout your town when the fishermen were kind enough to share some of their catches with it. His body wasn’t strong enough, his immune systen undeveloped, all because he could only eat a few crumbs of what could be shared whenever your family had gotten enough money to buy a small piece of bread.

You were desperate to save his life, so you started to sell your own body. You felt dirty, used, unloved and constantly touched. Your family looked at you in disgust when you had told them about it, shaming your way of thinking about how to make enough money. They thought you were selfish, only wanting all of the money for yourself. You begged them to buy the necessary medicine needed for your brother‘s recovery, tears streaming down your shadowed face as the doors of their small house closed infront of you.

They abandoned you, calling you a disgrace to their family. They took your money, your dignity and your family. You nerver knew if they ever got the medicine, if your brother survived or perished because of a cruel, evil, money hungry world.

You were angry, furious, your breathing quickening with each passing second.

That‘s when he called out to you, offering a place of solace and a way to avange your mistreatment. You were desperate for acceptance, so you gave in to his offering, binding your soul to his.

Your passing came soon after, a different disease and barely any food having helped in your demise. The devil took you to his place, but you never found solace, never found acceptance, only cruelty. So, you tried to escape that hellish place and somehow appeared back on the surface of earth. But one thing changed.

You couldn’t be seen anymore, your silent weeps couldn’t be heard or soothed and so your sorrow never left.

The only solace given to you were the children, their eyes wide and fearful whenever they saw you, a crying ghost carrying endless shackles around its limbs. You sang to them in sickness and nightmares, trying to soothe whatever pain they were going through. It was the only thing partly bringing you some sort of peace, seeing the once pained expression turn kind, friendly, resting and peaceful.

At some point, you���ve learnt how to manipulate the human eye to see you once more, to hear your weeping sorrows masked as beautiful lyrics sung by you and three other girls.

Demons sometimes see through your tricks, trying to graze your immortal soul and return it to Gwi-Ma, yet never succeeding.

So now you wander around earth, mainly South Korea and where your town once laid, singing to children in need of comfort at night and singing to the world at day, yet never finding someone to soothe your forever crying soul.

—————————————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading the prologue of my story 'Haunted Eyes'! If you‘d like me to continue or just have some questions, please either tell me by sending an ask or just by supporting this post! I‘ll try to answer everything! <3

-xjangmii

[sevinagreatergood]

People need to realize, kids at Hogwarts like Ron, Harry and Neville needed therapy. Teachers are NOT therapists. These kids were either neglected and/or abused in some way. That needs an actual therapist to work through.

A teacher is NOT fit for such jobs, otherwise we could just scooch in between math class and chemistry for a suicidal melt down with our teachers, because why do we need therapists.

It's for a reason that schools nowadays have school therapists. Hello? Are some people actually just not aware of how things came to be? A teacher is someone who... Teaches. I can't explain it better than that. If you fuck up, you fuck up, there is no heart-to-heart felt conversation in a class of around 20 students and there are still 7 hours left in the shift.

Especially not in Snape his case whose shift doesn't go from 8 to 4 or 9 to 5, because his shift is bound to be 24/7 as a double spy. And sure, he definitely DEFINITELY needed therapy as well.

But I am so fucking fed up with people blaming a teacher for every fucking little thing a child with 0 preservation skills, an anxious child, and a kid with insecurity issues does.

So how about you actually do some research on how teachers function, instead of blaming him for about everything.

And before I get haters on my ass. Luna, Draco and Cho needed therapy too. I just spoke of the first three from a teacher pov because Snape is often blamed for things he did to Hermione (an arsonist), Neville, Harry and Ron.

Honestly, those kids would definitely grow up to be troublesome adults, more than half these kids wouldn't probably break the family curse or something. So again, a teacher and therapist are two different things. A therapist is paid to think of solutions and help you. A teacher is there to teach you stuff and doesn't have time to guide you a lot with little time that teachers have. Even less in Snape his case.

Sure, many would say he hates Neville for the prophecy and he'd hate harry too. But if he'd truly hate the child, he would go out of his way to ruin them. All the man did was say blunt things during class. All nice and all, but the picture still stays without the extra context.

Kids arrived absolutely ruined in a dangerous school post war era. And they somehow resent the one and only teacher that looks about sleep deprived as a raccoon, and the rumors around him didn't help his case either, making the kids jump to assumptions regarding him.

So yeah. That's that. On my watch, I'd at least have 4 therapist in Hogwarts. Therapist for each house and they definitely should share notes, no preference to their own house or playing the blame game between houses. Together they would think of solutions and deliver that on my desk for me to look at and see how I can change the school's vibe from within to make sure, every house is comfortable and NOT discriminated against.

For the record, they wouldn't share the students identity with the story. But if the symptom "Gryffindor gets away with almost everything like starting quidditch sooner while we can't" appears too often, the therapist would lay that down and that would cause a discussion for me to make a decision with in the end.

Now, I may pull an Anakin Skywalker move, but my answer is the final answer. If I feel like discussing my answer, so be it.

Oh, yeah, and if a snater reads this. I really REALLY don't like you, so don't bother reacting to me, I will cuss you out if you say bs.

That's my lucky charm🤞

Ps: I know about the goddamn toad, but in the end, you're hating someone, a human being over a toad. Yet people hate Snape for adoring his friend over her child. Please, choose one thing and grow the fuck up. Thanks.

[anadrym]

Extended Author's Notes for Left Behind Ch25.

Spoilers!

Chapter title is from "I'm In It With You" by Loreen. (Or it will be. Very soon.)

Caitlyn is so tired that she falls asleep standing up in the shower. Write what you know.

It's sad, of course, that Caitlyn panics at not being able to find Vi in the bedroom. But it's also kinda funny. Like, yeah, the last time you left her alone, she panicked, BUT when you came back Petra was tending to her. What did you think would happen this time, Cait? Did you think Vi would have a panic attack and Petra would just leave her alone and not tell you about it? Someone's not thinking clearly.

Caitlyn stumbles toward the table and Vi immediately goes to get up to help her. And Petra, in possession of the only brain cell in the apartment --

I kinda wonder if Petra is like that one person on tumblr who likes putting fitted sheets on the bed. Because she's doing it a lot. And yeah, there are reasons - Caitlyn's sweat-inducing nightmares, Vi needing things to be clean so she doesn't get sicker, a desire to get the girls to actually talk without Petra in the way - but still.

I actually almost wasn't going to include Cait's nightmare. But I kinda wanted to show just how much her guilt (irrational as it may be) is still haunting her. How putting Vi down would have never stopped torturing Caitlyn. How the Baroness was so clearly using Vi to hurt Cait.

Also the idea of Caitlyn realizing just a second too late has been haunting me for a while, so I had to toss it in there. What would have happened? A shot from her rifle from that close... Vi's head would've been destroyed. Would Caitlyn have tried to move her body to the bed? Held vigil? Laid down beside her and hoped, one last time, that she never wake up again?

I think the avoidance here with the tea is similar to the way they were both lying to each other during their escape from the mansion. The lie isn't supposed to be read as a "I'm good, don't worry about it" so much as a "I can't talk about it now, please."

I really like that the thing that really finally prompts Vi to finally say "I love you" is Caitlyn remembering something as simple as how peppermint can be used. There's so much to it - the little bits of trivia (airship vs dirigible), the attachment to her family, the noticing of Vi's sore throat, the silliness of pretending to be haughty in telling Vi that she noticed - all boiling down to "I'm here and I want to help because you're my family now." If Vi needed any more confirmation, she's got it.

After five years of waiting (and never even hoping until the last week), Caitlyn finally gets to hear those words. She doesn't immediately say them back for two reasons: 1. Actions speak louder, especially when Vi is still having some issues with language; and 2. She already said it, way back in Chapter 9, when Vi couldn't quite understand the words but did understand the sentiment.

"Can I kiss you?" "Gods, yes." has been in my notes app for MONTHS.

Even now, Cait's being careful not to touch Vi's scalp. That's why she holds her around the ribs.

I'm ace, so I don't know how well I'm pulling this off, but I'm trying to keep slipping in that Caitlyn still thinks Vi is beautiful. Like, yes, she's ill and way too thin to be healthy. But Caitlyn still sees her: who she was, who she is, who she can be. (Vi doesn't realize this, which will come up again later.)

Caitlyn doesn't mention that she is still under the impression that Vi was repeatedly raped on the Baroness's orders. That will also come up again later.

I'm a little obsessed with the idea of love being like gravity, something unwavering that keeps you close and always pulls you back before you can drift too far. ("You are the sun and I am just the planets spinning around you")

Caitlyn's brain is still making the Windows error noise every time Vi smiles or laughs.

God, I love Petra. Kinda the ace experience to just be like "can you two just fucking communicate?" and then tease them for being sappy when they finally do it.

And Caitlyn, the detective, immediately working out that Petra pushed Vi into this conversation, just from two exchanged glances.

"They should get some more sleep" - they will not.

They totally made Caitlyn carry the mugs so that she wouldn't be able to stop Vi's from walking on her own. Vi's in that uncomfortable stage of the healing process where she's not strong enough to do everything herself, but she's still looking for some level of independence.

There's something so intimate about touching someone's face. I think it has to do with the level of vulnerability. But it also plays into the way Caitlyn is trying to relearn Vi - she's lost enough weight that her face has changed, and Caitlyn is retracing planes that she used to know by heart.

And the nightmare again. Interesting that Caitlyn goes for the spot where she would've shot Vi and not the spot where Vi actually was shot.

Vi immediately piecing together that Cait's touch stilling on her forehead has to do with her nightmare. She's so smart, you guys, and she can read Caitlyn so well.

Mmm, this is a hard conversation to have. How do you tell your loved one that you forced them to leave you behind and expected them to just get over that? How do you tell your loved one that you didn't move on because you didn't want to live without them and you're still angry that they forced you to try? We're definitely going to delve into all of this again later.

Caitlyn tries to brush off Vi's concern here by implying that she's been with Petra for longer than she has because she doesn't want to admit that she's been so lonely for so long. She doesn't want to hurt Vi. Honestly, I don't think she realizes just how angry she is yet about Vi taking away her choice on the night of the Purge.

Vi doesn't let her get away with the lie because she's still rightfully worried about Cait's mental state. If she was passively suicidal without Vi before, and Vi still isn't entirely out of the woods... That's something they need to talk about.

Okay, that line about stepping out of her cell into sunlight? That's referencing Vi being freed from Stillwater. She didn't know that Jinx was alive, she thought her entire family was dead. And yeah, she was being driven by revenge. But there was also that tentative little feeling towards Caitlyn, that little bit of possibility that I don't think she could've anticipated. So here she's basically thinking 'well, even when I had nothing and no one, I still found the smallest spark of something that could grow into love. So why couldn't you, Caitlyn?'

The difference, I think, is that Vi is one of the most hopeful characters ever, and Caitlyn is older and harder and more stubborn about letting herself move on. Vi moved on because she wanted a future and Caitlyn didn't move on because she didn't want one.

"I've tried that before" - Maddie reference!

I also think Caitlyn was right here. It wouldn't be fair to her or her partner to stay with someone just as a replacement for Vi. If you can't love a person for who they are, then you shouldn't be with them.

Mmm, just imagine the horror of realizing that, if not for random chance (and the author loving you dearly), Caitlyn wouldn't have found Vi. Caitlyn would have gotten herself killed in search of vengeance and Vi would still be in captivity, being slowly tortured to death by the Baroness.

"Sometimes, we aren't given the choice" - I reworked this line so many times to make sure it could be read as both 'the Purge didn't give us a choice' and 'you didn't give me a choice.'

"...replacing her with-- 'Vi?'" - Because they're helping her heal, so they are kinda replacing her with herself, in a way.

Hm, that "Always" sounds like a pretty intense promise. I wonder if that'll come up again.

Teaser for the next chapter:

A short stretch of quiet passes before, voice vibrating just enough that Vi can feel it against her shoulder blade, Caitlyn starts humming.

It's tuneless at first, just a few lilting notes at a time around quiet pauses. But then it hesitantly begins to change into something... familiar.

For a split second, Vi is a child, sitting in an adult's lap as a woman gently places a baby in her arms. She remembers a braid of thick purple hair brushing against her face as a woman bends down to kiss her forehead. She remembers a bridge, with blood and bodies strewn through the rubble.

Her breath hitches. "What - What song is that?"

[canirove]

Can you write a pedri fic about helping him through all his injuries and he feels that it was because of reader he had such a good and injury free season please 🤍

Pedri Imagine | four

Author’s note: Hope you like it, and thank you for reading! 💜

Masterlist

“I just finished making my suitcase, so I'm ready for… Pedri!” I say, quickly sitting on the sofa next to him. “What happened? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“Oh” he says, touching his face. “These aren't sad tears, don't worry. It's just that my phone showed me an old photo and I've gone down a rabbit hole” he chuckles. “Do you remember this?” he says, showing me his phone. 

“I do, yes. It's one of the first photos you sent me when we started talking.”

“And do you remember when I took it?”

“You were… Pedri, please tell me your rabbit hole doesn't have to do with your injuries.”

“Maybe” he shrugs. “But it isn't what you think.”

“Isn't it?”

“It isn't, you'll see. I took this photo after the Barça doctors confirmed one of my injuries and for how long I was going to be away from the pitch, and to make me stop thinking about it, you started telling me about this tv show you were watching, one that was driving you crazy but not in a bad way.”

“That show was my whole personality for a while” I chuckle.

“It was” Pedri smiles. “The thing is that after you told me about it I got interested in it too, watched an episode, and I also got hooked. And while I was doing my recovery sessions, my head would not be thinking about how much I missed playing football, the pain or my bad luck. I would be thinking about what could happen next, making my own theories and reading the ones other people had. It made me look forward to going home and watching a new episode and then discussing it with you.” 

“Remember how we stayed up until 3 a.m. talking about one of the season finales? Going to class the next day was the worst, but it was worth it” I smile.

“It was” he replies, also smiling. “Now, this other photo” he says after scrolling on his phone. “Do you remember it?”

“Of course I do! How to forget that you chose to grow your beard while I was studying abroad and couldn't enjoy it” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Sorry” he says, kissing my cheek as if that would make me forget about his treason. “But do you remember when I sent it to you?”

“I think it was after one of our dinner dates, wasn't it? You sent it to me to tell me goodnight and hopefully dream about you” I chuckle.

“Did you? You never told me.”

“I can't remember.”

“Liar” Pedri laughs. “Anyway, this day actually was our first date. Barça was playing and it was the first game I was going to miss because I was injured again, so you called me, noticed how down I felt because I couldn't be there with the boys, and decided to organise a date to watch the game together over facetime while having dinner.”

“And after that, we had a date during each game until you recovered, and basically every night.”

“We did” he smiles. “It was another thing I was looking forward to during those days when I couldn't play. Going home, making something nice for dinner, and then hearing you tell me all about your day.”

“I still don't know how you get tired of hearing me complain about the weather and my teachers” I laugh.

“I could never get tired of you.”

“Aww, Pedri” I say, now being the one who kisses his cheek.

“Now, what about… this one” he says, showing me another photo.

“Oh, that's a funny one” I smile. “Your first pilates class.”

“I hated it so much… Not the class itself, but going to it. Some people started calling me a pilates princess and… yeah. I didn't like it. But then you told me they were just a bunch of idiots…”

“I'm pretty sure I call them something different” I interrupt him.

“Yes. You were less nicer” he chuckles. “But you told me they had no idea what they were talking about because pilates is a lot more difficult than what it looks like and that it isn't just a girl's thing, which I completely agree with, then joined me in my next class so I would not feel so self conscious, kicked my ass while also making me feel better about having to train like this because it was good for me… And here we are now. I've never felt as good in my body as I do now, and I get to enjoy how amazing and sweaty you look while doing it since we've become a pilates couple. The joint showers after our workouts also are a plus” he smirks. “And don't look at me like that.”

“How?”

“As if I was horny 24/7. These showers were your idea.”

“I don't know what you are talking about” I shrug.

“Sure” Pedri laughs again. “And last but not least…” he says, scrolling on his phone again. “Do you remember this photo?”

“I will never forget your face in that photo, Pedri. Seeing it still hurts, to be honest.”

“Well, it shouldn't” he says, taking my hand on his. “Because seeing it doesn't hurt me anymore.”

“But you sent it to me after the game against Germany. After you were told you were going to miss the rest of the Euros.”

“I know” he says, giving my hand a little squeeze. “And even though that day brings lots of bad memories, it also brings really good ones too.”

“Because we won?”

“I mean, technically you didn't win” he says with a teasing smile, making me roll my eyes. “But yes, winning the Euros is one of the reasons why looking at this pic doesn't hurt anymore.”

“And the others?”

“The love from my teammates and from the fans. How supported I felt. But also you.”

“Me?”

“You are the one who convinced me to ask them if I could stay. The one who listened to me every time I felt like shit and who would text me random photos and video call me while you were doing touristy things around Germany to keep me entertained. The one who made me look at my new situation as if I just happened to be on the bench like some of my other teammates were, helping the others and supporting everyone, being there for them. The one who made me feel less injured than I was, something that especially happened that day when you sneaked into the hotel” he smirks.

“Please don't remind me of it. I still don't know how they didn't catch me.”

“Yeah… you were quite loud when we were alone in my room.”

“Idiot” I say, giving him a little push and making him laugh.

“I have a really good memory of that night. Don't you? Because I think you do. Look at the colour of your cheeks” he says, poking at one of them with his finger and earning himself a slap in the hand, one that only manages to make him laugh again. “Anyway, what I wanted to tell you by showing you these photos and remembering these days, it's that I think you are the reason why this season has been my best and the only game I missed was because I was glued to the toilet.”

“Yeah” I chuckle. “But me? How am I going to be the reason why you didn't get injured this season? That should be you, your hard work, and the physios and doctors you work with.”

“Yes, they also are an important part in this… success. But so are you. Because you changed something in me that they couldn't.”

“I… I don't understand.”

“Before meeting you, every time I got injured I started to see everything in the most negative way you could think of, blaming myself for what had happened because I was too weak and not enough. But then you came into my life, and you changed that mentality. You made me see things in a more positive light and showed me that there was more out there than just playing football. You made me start enjoying the little things in life while still supporting me and being there when I felt down, and I think that made me relax and stop putting so much pressure on myself. And by relaxing here” he says, touching his temple. “So did the rest of my body and especially my muscles. So if this season has been my best one yet and I am this happy, it's because of you.”

“Pedri, I… I…”

“These better not be sad tears” he says, caressing my cheek and wiping them away.

“They aren't, no. It's just that I… I…”

“You?”

“I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too” he smiles. “And I can't wait to spend this summer with you. The first one where I'm going to be able to properly relax and enjoy you and your company. Though especially you” he smirks.

“And then he isn't horny 24/7” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“I'm not” he replies, sticking out his tongue and making me laugh. “But you know…” I say, moving so I can hug him and be closer to him. “If you want to spend this summer the way you say, you should finish making your suitcase.”

“Urgh” he groans.

“C'mon” I chuckle, giving him a quick peck. “I'll help you finish it.”

“See how you are the best?” he smiles.

“You could let your beard grow during our holidays to thank me.”

“My mum isn't going to like it” he says. “So what if I do this instead?”

“This?”

“This” he says before kissing me. “I love you” he whispers against my lips.

“I love you too” I reply before we kiss again, completely forgetting about making his suitcase.

[mouse-fantoms]

If ya’ll think I’m not crying like a baby about this then let me inform you 😭😅

[king-spite]

i know the red queen tv show is now less likely to happen than katy perry going to space BUT if it DOES happen i think they should pull a rhaenicent and make elara and coriane have a failed tragic homoerotic friendship before becoming "rivals". nevermind what actually happens in the books. i think that would save me actually

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

​

[ccbatman]

woe. bruce and dinah friendship be upon ye:

"Someone has to have our backs. Keep us honest. That's why I'm here." / "Batman needs a conscience? Okay, I'll bite."

{ The Brave and the Bold (1980) #166 • JLI (1987) #13 • Batgirl Year One (2003) #7 • JLI (1987) #6 • JLI (1987) #7 • JLA: Incarnations (2001) #4 • Green Arrow/Black Canary (2007) #1 • Injustice 2 (2017) #4 • JLI (1987) #13 • JLI (1987) #11 • Justice League of America (1960) #84 • Justice League of America: Rebirth (2017) }

[tackminyard]

show tempe gang crossover with the morris islanders would actually have been the best episode of bones ever. btw

[rapidhighway]

awesome long post about sonic and shadow you love finished by mentioning untagged sonadow in the last sentence to piss you off