#takes money to do most things anymore - unfortunately

[smashing-yng-man]

I need to find more friends who love to hang out while being frugal.

[saetoru]

underground fighter wriothesley who absolutely melts whenever you patch him up n place the softest kisses over his bruises n stuff :((

- 🦋 anon

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ WE, NOT I — WRIOTHESLEY.

contents. underground fighter! wriothesley, gn! reader (he gifts you flowers, perfume and a necklace though, so if that is fem! coded to you, there’s your warning), mentions of foster care and being orphaned (wriothesley), mentions of blood, bruises, and injuries (wriothesley), slight angst but overall fluff ending

money’s tight—has been for a while, actually. wriothesley doesn’t like to talk about it, doesn’t like to open up even though he knows you won’t think any less of him. but you notice the small things, always do.

it’s the way you buy groceries for two, the way he’s always over for dinner one way or another, the way he seems to spend more and more time at your place than his. money’s tight, even if he doesn’t like to admit it—and you could never force it out of him, but you think letting him stay with you while he can could help ease the burden of living even if a little.

he’s grateful—a little roundabout in the ways he shows it, but grateful all the same.

and then the presents start to come.

it’s small at first: those expensive macarons you like from that bakery, the bouquet of roses that couldn’t be cheap, a nice dinner he insists he can pay for every once in a while. and then it starts to get bigger: fancy tea from the side of town neither of you even think about shopping at, perfume from a brand you can’t even pronounce, a necklace that’s more than what you can afford yourself.

it starts out slow, and then all at once, wriothesley has what you imagine to be more money than he knows what to do with. because why else spoil you like this? why else blow money on things for you when he could be putting it towards himself?

not everyone gets to have a head start at life—wriothesley is proof of that. it’s hard, more than most people realize, to be orphaned so young and move through foster home after foster home. he’d gone to jail once too—he doesn’t talk about that either, and you never ask. it’s hard, more than anyone gives him credit for, to be knocked down by life so many times and make a living for yourself.

you can’t understand where the sudden change comes from, can’t pinpoint where along the line he started getting so comfortable. it’s not unwelcome, you would never want to watch him just barely scrap by, but it concerns you how he seems to have so much all at once.

and then you get your answer.

“what—what happened to you?” you ask in disbelief, eyeing the blood caked by his nose and around his knuckles. that’s the best of it, unfortunately—the gashes on his chest and the bruises somehow look even worse.

you’d consider him lucky that his ribs don’t seem cracked.

“just a fight,” he shrugs, not meeting your eyes. wriothesley is a lot of things: resourceful, conniving at times, and braver than most. good at lying is not one of them, however—at least not with you. “just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“where were you, then?” you challenge, staring at him hard enough that he doesn’t have to meet your eyes to shuffle uncomfortably in his spot. he doesn’t answer. you’re almost fed up. “wriothesley,” you say in a warning tone.

there’s a sense of finality he doesn’t like.

“what happened to wrio, sweetheart? you’re killin’ me here, i come home to you all bruised up and you’re here beating me down harder—”

“wriothesley, i’m worried about you,” you whisper tiredly. it’s defeated—it’s almost helpless. he frowns, finally looking up at you from his place between your legs as you sit on the bathroom counter.

“you don’t have to be,” he mumbles, “i can take care on my own. i always have.”

“there’s no being on your own when we’re together,” you shake your head. your hands fall to either side of your body, shoulders slumping in exhaustion. “don’t you understand? neither of us is supposed to be on our own anymore—not when the other is here.”

“yeah,” he crosses his arms—you try to ignore the wince he lets out as he moves, “and now you’re not handling things on your own anymore. i’m carrying my weight. just need to fight a guy or two.”

“you’re carrying your weight by fighting?” you blink at the realization. he doesn’t look you in your eyes, keeping them trained on the floor again. “oh my god—is that what these are from? because….because you’re fighting some punks in the middle of the night? that’s illegal—and you could get in trouble again—”

he doesn’t seem to like being reminded of his past. that’s clear when he clicks his teeth and glares at you. “and what am i supposed to do, stay cooped up in your place and eat your food?” he asks bitterly, making your brows furrow.

“not necessarily, but you can—”

“what, so i just live paycheck to paycheck and shower at your place and sleep in your bed so my water and electricity bills aren’t too high for the month?”

“wrio—”

“i’m earning, aren’t i? what’s the big deal?”

“the big deal is this,” you wave your hand exasperatedly, tears welling up by the lash line of your eyes as you stare at his bruises with trembling lips, “look at you. it’s not worth it if you come back to me like this.”

“but i come back,” he mumbles, taking your hand—he kisses the knuckles, rubs a rough thumb over the smooth skin before laying your palm against his cheek and sighing. “i always come back.”

you love wriothesley—have since the day you met him, you think. he’s easy to fall for like that, to feel your stomach go in twists and knots every time he makes a sarcastic joke and throws you a charming smile. life has been tough on the man you love, unfairly so. it’s hit him harder and harder and pushed him back to his knees before he ever got a chance to fully stand up.

he’s hitting back, now. maybe in a more literal sense than you’d hoped, but….but maybe you can help him if you can’t change him. maybe you can keep the pieces together until the plaster holds and they’re not so fragile anymore.

“i don’t like seeing you hurt,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss the broken skin on his cheekbone, “you don’t have to do all this. we were doing okay before that.”

we. he shudders at that. it’s always we and never i—even when you did all the heavy lifting. even when he was barely getting by and you were giving more than you should’ve had to, more than he should’ve needed. it’s always we. never i.

you and him.

“i know,” he melts, humming as your fingers thread into his tousled hair, scratching his scalp as he buries his face into your neck, “just let me save a bit more. and then i’ll do something real with myself. i promise.”

you pull away after a bit, taking in every bruise and every cut, every dry patch of blood and swollen patch of skin. it’s shaky at first, your voice when you finally speak.

“‘s all bruised,” you say quietly, running a finger over the marks littering his chest. he’s painfully still—doesn’t move a muscle as you lean in slowly and press a kiss to the purplish stain on his skin, gently trailing them to the next one, and the next one, and the next one. “you don’t deserve all this.”

“yeah?” he chuckles—its breathy, a little strained. your arms loop around his waist and bring him closer, “what a sweet thing,” he coos, “nobody ever treats me so gentle.”

you frown at that. the world is not gentle with wriothesley—you’ll have to be extra gentle to make up for it.

“you’ll be safe? you’ll pull out when it’s too much, right? and you’ll come back? without being too hurt, right? wrio, you can’t—”

“yeah, yeah, i got it,” he huffs, pressing his forehead to yours, letting your hands cup his cheeks. he leans closer to your touch, shudders as you slowly trace his cheek with your thumb, “just wait at home all pretty for me, yeah? i’ll bring you back something nice.”

“bring me back yourself in once piece,” you huff.

“done,” he smiles, “i’m strong, if you haven’t noticed.”

“yeah? explain this,” you challenge, pressing down on a bruise and making him wince.

“you should see the other guy,” he whines, burying his face back into your neck. you roll your eyes, there’s a scoff in your throat but a smile on your lips.

wriothesley is safe—for now, that’s all you can ask for.

“i love you,” you mumble, “so much. no matter what, okay?”

“no need to get so emotional on me, baby,” he chuckles—and then there’s a tightening of strong arms around your body, a kiss pressed delicately to your neck before a soft, “but i love you too” is murmured into your skin.

“i hope you’re ready to clean those cuts. they’ll sting for sure,” you grumble as you pull away. he grins—handsome, charming, yours.

“will you kiss them better?” he bats his lashes, making you snort.

“no.”

i might make this a reoccurring drabble series too idk yet. anyway you know what else he can beat up ?? this pussy ;)

[johnnycakesswitch]

The most “boys will be boys” things the gang do

• Steve, Soda, Dally, and Darry stay walking around half naked, ESPECIALLY in the summer. Their shirts are never on. Soda’s jeans are unzipped half the time smh

• as much as they really really try, the Curtis boys are known for leaving their dirty laundry everywhere 😟 no matter how messy they can be though, Two-Bit’s room will always be exponentially worse

• one time Steve and Soda wanted to see who could eat the most chocolate cake so they each ate a whole half of a cake and threw up later

• Johnny do not be washing his clothes 😭😭😭 it’s rly not his fault but Darry will offer to wash up some of his stuff with Ponyboy’s and Johnny will be like “no thank you it’s not that bad 🙂” bros jean jacket probably carries the plague

• they literally don’t stop eating. It’s canon that the Curtis brothers all have big appetites, everyone else is just as bad. Most of their money goes to groceries bc they literally just eat and eat

• Ponyboy tries to lay in bed directly after track practice before showering bc he’s tired and Sodapop is appalled

• so so so many wrestling and football injuries. Pony’s always tripping and falling face first. Steve is a fucking pincher when they’re wrestling so Soda and Two-Bit always have little ass bruises on them from him 💀 during football Johnny is really good at slipping between people bc he can be pretty quick but one time he managed to take Steve down with him and they knocked their heads together

• Dally unfortunately enjoys driving around and yelling obscenities when he has Buck’s car. No one is off limits. He’ll trail behind Johnny and be like “ay what that mouth do” and Johnny just lets out the most defeated sigh

• Ponyboy and Curly were each other’s first kiss “for practice” and didn’t rly think much of it until they realized they’d only been kissing each other even tho they didn’t need practice anymore and never tried to get w anyone else 😭😭😭

• if Two-Bit sees any kind of animal worth catching in his mind like an armadillo or some shit he will indeed try to catch it and bring it to the Curtis house and Darry is just like if you don’t get that damn armadillo off my porch

Anyway I love these sillies even tho boys are gross 😒

[bet-on-me-13]

Ellie isn't allowed to travel alone Anymore

So! Ellie was raised in a Lab by a Genuine Bonefied Supervillain. She was raised to be a Villain as well, so her Moral Conpass is a little skewed.

Sure she *mostly* knows what is right and wrong from Danny's quick lesson before her Adventure around the Country, but she still has trouble separating what is moral and what is not from time to time.

So it's really no surprise that the moment she left Amity Park she somehow ended up being branded a Villain.

Look, it's not her fault she didn't know not to attack the flying guy in Blue Spandex when he approached her! One of Danny's biggest warnings shen she left had been Stranger Danger! She did what any 12 year old girl would have done when approached by a strange Older Man!

Its also not her fault that her powers (being Magic based), managed to affect him! She didn't even use her full power! (She maybe should have kicked him in a different place tho...she hopes he wasn't planning on having kids...)

So she did what her instincts told her to do. She took any money he had on him and ran the hell away!

It wasn't until she was 2 cities over when she saw a newspaper titled, "Little Villain Girl Mugs Superman in Broad Daylight!", that she realized she may have screwed up...

After that, she really had no excuse.

She knew that she probably shouldn't have kept Mugging the Heroes who approached her, but she wasn't a Fenton for nothing! Her Family Motto had always been "Commit to the Bit", and she was gonna stick to it!

So when the Fast Red Guy tried to tie her up, she phased off all his clothes and took off with his money (not the mask, she knew enough not to take that off)

And when the Grumpy Bat Guy tried to corner her with some weird papers he pulled out of his Belt, she just distracted him while her clone picked his pockets and made off with the wheels of his Car. That one made her a pretty penny!

The flying Green Guy was fun, his attacks were just throwing Ghost Candy (pure willpower) at her. He did stop doing do after she nicked his fancy talking Ring however, but it was fun while it lasted

Then she came across a Orange Fish Guy, and he actually seemed nice enough. But she was committing to the Bit, so she took the fancy Trident he had and sold it at a nearby Pawn Shop for some extra cash. He would probably be able to find it, that's why she chose a nearby location.

All in All, her Adventure had been really fun! So she decided to visit Amity Park again to tell Danny all about it!

...

Aquaman walked into the meeting room of the Watchtower, a very frustrated look in his eye.

Barry spoke up first, "Oh! I know that look in your eye! She got to you too didn't she!"

Arthur just glared at Barry for a second before walking over to his Chair, sitting down with a thump. "She is certainly a tricky child."

"What did she take this time?" Clark asked.

"..mttrident..." Arthur grumbled out quickly.

"What was that?" Asked Barry with a twinkle in his eye. He heard it, but he wanted everybody else to know.

"She took my trident, Okay!" Arthur shouted out.

"I feel ya man." Responded Hal, "At least with me she threw it back at me when she realized it wasn't making 'candy' anymore. What did she do with yours?"

"She sold it at a Pawn Shop!" Arthus yelled in frustration, "She managed to steal one of the most Powerful Magical Weapons in the world, the Symbol of the entire Atalantean Royal Bloodline, and she sold it and a Pawn Shop!"

"...how much did she get for it?" Asked Hal.

At this, Aquaman just collapsed to the table and groaned.

...

Alternatively she could have just kept all those things, and gradually built up a collection of all the JLA's most treasured possessions.

She has Supermans Wallet, not very important to him but it was her first mugging

She has Batmans Utility Belt (trackers removed) along with his Tires

She took Flashes Costume Ring (his civilian clothes still stuck inside)

She took Green Lanterns ring as well, but unfortunately it managed to escape after a few days. It was feisty.

And her crowning Jewel is the Trident she took from Aquaman.

(She avoided WW, cause she likes her too much to steal anything from her)

[glotoru]

SHE’S MY COLLAR. eren jaeger

── eren knows you, he can deal with you; but sometimes, your obsessions can be too much, even for him.

content contains : nerdy!eren x dumb!gf so real, reader is needy and obsessed with eren, nsfw, unprotected sex, riding, dumbification, ‘just the tip’ moment, size kink kinda, slight cervix kissing, dick drunk reader & pussydrunk eren, creampie. wc: 2.2k. minors do not interact thanks <3

god, you’re annoying sometimes.

unfortunately, you can never seem to realize that your boyfriend is a busy person—or anyone, really, for that matter. it’s like you believe everyone is just as carefree as you; leaving things up to the ‘fate of the universe’ and ditching responsibilities to constantly hang out with eren, essentially leaving him to deal with your eccentricity and fixations.

and it comes as no surprise to learn that he just happens to be the latest one.

it’s different from your other ones—they were much easier. because he could simply just take you to the nearest parlour and buy you scoops and tubs of your favourite ice cream, or spend his latest internship check on your wardrobe and be done with it for a favourable amount of time. but with this? you’ve been as insatiable as they come.

eren can count on two hands how many times you’ve begged him, with tears clumping your dark lashes and patchy mascara, to get away from assignments, studying, classes—even work—just to come see you in the past week. and of course, they all ended the same way; with swollen lips, limbs sore from how you held your legs to your torso as he rutted his hips into the fat of your ass, your messy cunt full of his cum, and both his face and sheets stained with your juices. he doesn’t doubt he’s been shooting blanks for the last few times, too.

but still, the worst part about it all is the fact that he just can’t bring himself to say no to you—despite all of his damned efforts to do so.

“‘ren, you should pay attention to your girlfriend.” you groan, neck curling backwards as you crane your head up to look at him. you’re planted near his left leg as he works away at the desk in his bedroom, completely ignoring your words while pages of code reflect on his glasses. “i don’t wanna sit down here anymore.”

‘i’ve been paying attention to you all week’, he wants to say—but would rather opt for the regular ‘im busy’ rather than anything else that could potentially hurt your feelings. and eren knows you’re immune to it, how if you had a dollar for every time those words left his mouth, you’d be fucking millionaire most likely—but he does it anyways.

it’s laughable, how you offered to sit there yourself as opposed to his lap because he said you would distract him if you did. yet here you were still doing the same thing; looking up at him with that subtle pout and eyes full of adoration of some sort—the kind that has his dick swelling at an embarrassingly quick rate.

“can you take a break? i miss you s’much it hurts.”

eren recognizes the drag in your voice in almost a second. as if uttering a silent prayer, he keeps his breath in the tunnel of his throat when you lazily hug him, hardened nipples brushing against his bare leg through the thin fabric of your tank top. he knows he’s taking you for granted. shit...just how many guys would pay money for this sight; the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on asking him for attention. in all honesty, you’re not the best influence, but it’s gruelling trying not to give in to you.

“fine.” the four letter word is all you need as an invitation to jump from the seat near his chair and into his legs, which widen just a teeny bit for your comfort as you straddle him.

the feeling of your arms wrapped around Eren’s slender waist whilst burying your head in his chest burns through his clothing and into his skin. instead of focusing on how your acrylics gently rake up and down his back, he chooses to open up his phone, mindlessly swiping between different page screens and periodically opening up the ‘settings’ which seem to be so important.

honestly, you just needed to be close to him; close enough to bunch his shirt in your hands while you get a whiff of his body soap and cologne—the same one lingering in your apartment, your clothes, everything. but ugh, his scent alone isn’t capable of grant your contentment; you need him inside of you—his muddled moans flowing into your mouth as you tangle your fingers within his hair, the way his brows pull together when he frantically rubs and your clit, desperate to get you crying for him.

the thought of him alone is more than enough to get you off, and just for a moment you forget eren’s there. too stuck in your head and up in the clouds, you fail to notice the way your body subconsciously rocks itself on his lap, arms tightening in the embrace as you tense from the slight stimulation to your cunt.

and eren. . .he watches with wide eyes full of surprise, his phone falling to the floor with a thud. there’s no other way to describe the sight other than pretty—your eyes are squeezed shut with fickle breaths and lips jutted out into a pout; the same pout you give when it’s just not hitting right. but he can feel all of you rubbing against his crotch, even the damp spot forming on the centre point of his grey sweatshorts.

fuck, he concludes that you must not be wearing anything under the satin shorts hugging your legs. sooner or later, you’d be the death of him.

eren jaeger: death by pussy.

doesn’t sound too bad, considering what he knows he’s in for.

“i need it eren, can’t cum without it.” you ramble the same words that you’ve been saying for the last week, eyes glossed over when you look up at his flushed face. when he tries to speak, you’re quick to cut him off, “just the tip, promise—i promise…”

eren’s almost unsure how he finds himself mindlessly nodding along, as if your whines and pleas are like a coercive drug, “just the tip…”

you repeat those three words over—like it’s more of a mantra to yourself rather than a word of reassurance to your boyfriend—as you clumsily pull one leg out of the confinement of your shorts, giving him the perfect view of your sheened over pussy. just the tip, you mumble, drooling at the sight of eren tugging his pants further down his legs to free his dick, all achey and upright, standing against his torso as he breathes heavily.

your cunt throbs when you line yourself over him, dragging his leaky tip across your folds and sensitive clit. it’s easily one of the best reliefs you could ask for, eyes flitting around in the back of your head as you lean into his shoulder. poor eren could probably cum straight like this, seeing you use him like a damned fuck toy—seeing how horny you are for only him.

his moans only add fuel to the fire, pushing you to try your luck at sliding down his bulbous head before stopping right where it ends. he’s just so big, stretching out your hole with just the tip alone—leaving you to mutter a string of jumbled up curses as your body leans forward into him.

“does it feel good, baby?” the hoarseness in his voice is difficult to miss, it’s as if his throat is closing up with every passing moment. you’ve never tried this before, but the vice grip your cunt has on the most sensitive part of him has him wishing you’d done this much sooner.

“yeah—yeah, it feels really-”

your last word comes out in choked whine, breath hitching when his middle and ring finger find their way to your clit, tracing feather-light circle on the bud.

you want eren to make you cum—you’re so desperate that you resort to steadily rutting yourself down on his tip, focused enough to not break your promise to him. there’s a steadily approaching burn in your thighs: it’s a burn that makes you want to cry, makes you want to beg him to make the pain go away and make you finish—but you hold your tongue.

eren’s lips can only part at your unexpected determination, showcasing the sharp bottom teeth that look so much like fangs. you don’t think when you move a hand to his flushed face, your thumb messily slipping inside his mouth and padding the surface of his canines. your other hand makes its way to his glasses, gently pushing them back up the bridge of his nose before meeting his swollen lips with your own.

the residue of the strawberry cake you fed him hours prior is still lingering on his tongue, you can at least make that out as you swirl your own in his mouth.

the voice in your head chanting ‘just the tip’ is growing fainter and quieter, as if it’s moving from the front of your brain all the way to the back of your head, alongside all of the other forgotten things that seemed to hold no importance to you anymore. you want to feel all of him, the pulse of his cock that seems to barely match his heartbeat, the prominent vein running up the length, and the delicious curve that jutted up right against your walls.

“‘ren, don’t wanna hold out anymore.” relentless is what you’re becoming, tired of the way that your pussy grows achey with every passing moment—it’s not enough.

“you said just the t-tip.”

“i don’t fucking want just the tip!” the tears brimming your eyes are growing more apparent, to the point where eren can’t just simply ignore them. “gotta—you gotta let me have it all!”

eren feels like he’s lost his mind: you’re already driving yourself onto his dick, a silent scream falling from your lips as you split yourself open with his sheer thickness. your hands reach to grab whatever they can, one on the back of his searing nape, and the other on top of his own.

the sought out feeling of being full makes your head almost go haywire, stumbling over words as he bottoms out, tip feathering kisses to your cervix, “i’m sososo obsessed with you eren.”

and as much as he hates to admit it, he’s sososo obsessed with you too. despite all of his complaints, there’s still a longing to give you everything you want—need, even. he can’t help but sigh when your walls start to flutter around him, as if your pussy is welcoming him like it always has.

with your guidance, he moves a hand up your shirt and towards to chest, taking your puffy nipples in hand, rolling and prodding at it before messily taking one into his mouth.

“just…right there—”

your words are less than coherent—too busy slamming yourself back down onto him to make any sense to your boyfriend, who looks at you with his brows pulled together. it’s the same look he gives when he wants to say how ditzy you can be sometimes, but you just can’t help it!

there’s a thickening ring of cream near his base, and the squelching sounds of your cunt fucking him dumb overpowers any other sounds in the room. you sniffle and whine as your pace falters, legs giving out from your sporadic bouncing as you fall into eren. it’s almost a wonder how ‘just the tip’ turned into his tip and much more, but you don’t care enough, too eager to grind your hips along his pelvis, barely moving on his length as you play with your clit.

“you can’t do that...” he finds himself mumbling out. how is it fair for you to do all of this to him, making his dick a fucking mess just to finish it all by your self; without him. “c’mon baby, that’s so unfair” he continues to mumble about how ‘unfair’ it is as he grabs a vice hold of your hips, steadying them in place for a moment and lifting you off of him, just to slam you back down with a pace more fervent than before—one that knocks the fucking wind out of your lungs and roughly brings you back down to earth.

and the trip back down hits as hard as his thrusts. the pace is unforgiving, one that you almost didn’t know he had—barring your body to his chest to easily make you meet him halfway as he fucks up into you with low remorse. his eagerness has dick slipping out of your hole and sliding up against your swollen clit, involuntary spreading the mix of your slick and his pre everywhere between the two of you.

“feel’s so good—yeahyeahyeah—don’t stop ‘ren…” you babble run on sentences that would’ve made zero sense had eren not known you. but he does: he knows the way your brain seemed to shut down while fucking you, and how your velvety walls essentially have been warped by his cock pummelling into you at any given moment.

the arch in your back is irregular, dipped beautifully for eren to hesitantly trace lines up and down the expanse of bare skin. your pussy is the best (and only) one he’s ever had, and there’s nothing that’ll ever change that fact.

because who else’s moans will sound like a god-gifted symphony from heaven? who else’s cunt will tighten around him like so the way you do when you’re cumming, translucent white slick dragging down all over and down to pants? who else will whine and cry his name the way you do? who else will make him happily empty his balls inside of them just because they begged and asked?

nobody.

after all, you’re one of a kind.

[xetlynn]

Arcane Imagines- Violet

Sweet and Sour

Requested by: @m0ranna "vi and a s/o who looks, seems and acts very soft but is actually a beast when fighting."

[arcane] [main page]

Summary: you and vi have been apart for some time, and when she sees you all the feelings come back.

“Hey, someone’s here for you.” Your only employee, Mexi says, you hum in response waving that you’re coming. You feel slightly grateful to stand up from your desk and be done with all the paperwork for just a moment. It’s been slow running Benzo’s old shop. Nobody has really come in, especially now with everything going on between Zaun and Piltover so money’s real tight.

 You walk out into the shop from behind the counter after your employee leads you there. You look up with crossed arms. “What can I do for you?” Asked with a fake interested tone.

“[Name]? You own the place now?” A familiar voice rings in your ears. Your eyes widened to look more clearly at your past friend/crush. “Violet?!” You jump over the counter, pulling her into a tight embrace. You hadn’t seen her since that horrible, idiotic heist that went so wrong. “Hey!” She holds you close to her, before pulling you back to get a better look at you. 

“You still have that sweet innocent look.” She whispers, pulling you into another hug. Taking in your scent as tears fills your eyes. “How did you get out?” You back away this time, holding onto her shoulders to make sure she doesn’t go away. “Uh, see that pilty officer out there.” She points to the dark haired lady standing outside the shop with her hands on her hips seemingly impatient. “Yeah?” 

“Her, I don’t know why but I’m not complaining.” Vi chuckles and you smile at her. “Want to invite her in?” It stuns her when you offer that, even Mexi was taken aback. She gets nervous, walking into the back so she doesn't have to speak to an officer. “Eh, she can experience the undercity a little more.” Vi waves it off, jumping onto the glass counter to sit down. 

“Looks the same in here.” She sadly sighs, browses the place. “Tried not to change it drastically. Benzo did a pretty good job.” You frown, thinking back to the man who was like a father to you. “Is Ekko…” 

“Nah, he’s doing his own thing now. Unfortunately it's the same with your sister.” You groan, reminding yourself of the blue-haired girl's antics with Silco. “Powder? What do you mean unfortunately?” Vi perks up. “She’s not really Powder anymore.” You start, hugging yourself as you think back to when Ekko begged you to fight with the fireflies. 

“Let’s talk about something else.” You pick up a random gadget, fidgeting with it in your left hand. “How’s the free life?” 

“I want to talk about Powder.” Vi gets off the counter, walking towards you. “Vi, no. You’ll find out on your own. I really don’t want to get into this.” You tell her simply, pleading silently with your facial expression. She wants to argue with you, beg for you to say more but she can’t. Not when your eyes are full of fear and sadness. You’ve always been so sweet-looking. So kind to people, giving them the benefit of the doubt. Which is rare in the undercity. It’s also stupid to most. 

“Okay, okay. I- I don’t know, I’ve only been free for a few hours. This was the first place I went to.” She averts eye contact now. “Hm, I’m the first person you wanted to see, huh?” You joke, there wasn’t really any other option sadly. “Of course.” Vi smirks, nudging your arm. 

“I’ve missed you.” You turn to her, pulling her into another hug. “I don’t want to let go of you. It’s like you’re going to disappear at any moment.” You whimper out, trying not to cry. Vi’s face softens, kissing the top of your head. “I promise I’m not leaving again.” Her hands go to your waist just letting you cling onto her. 

“I’ll kill you before you get the chance to leave me.” You say, causing her to scoff out a laugh. The door bells go off and you both let each other go to see that officer standing there. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Officer Caitlyn Kiramman.” She bows down to you before looking at Vi. “We should get going, I have important things to get to.” 

You raise a brow on why Vi needs to go with this lady so badly. Vi sighs. “Give me a moment.” She tells the officer whose face contorts into an annoyed expression. “I’ve given you quite a few moments to reunite with your girlfriend here.” Cait spits out, obviously very antsy to get where she needs to be. The both of you awkwardly glance at one another now with flushed faces.

“Uh, it’s alright. I’ll see you later Vi.” You chuckle, taking her hand in yours. “There’s a fight in that one arena we used to go to behind Vander and Benzo’s back. It’s huge and you should come. Just like old times.” You propose to her, your face full of hope that she agrees to come. 

“You can bring your bodyguard too.” You tease making her playfully roll her eyes. Cait tries to bite back a smile at the joke. “I’ll be there. I promise.” Vi squeezes your hand before letting go. “It’s at the usual time as well, I hope you remember.” You tell her as she leaves with the girl. “Oh I remember!” Vi calls back. 

When the door shuts behind them and the bells still ring in your ears you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Mexi comes out of hiding. “You two are dating?” She asks curiously. You choke on your spit. “Huh?” 

“Well the officer said you were her girlfriend and neither one of you denied it.” She shrugs her shoulders, taking out her box of things to put away. “Oh, I mean we had a small thing as children but I haven’t seen her in 7 years. I’m sure she doesn’t think about me that way.” You ramble, putting the gadget back that forgot you were holding. 

“I don’t know. The way she looked at you says otherwise.” Mexi winks, your face heats up. “Whatever.” You mutter, going back behind the counter and heading into the back to finish the paperwork you had. 

•••

Vi and Caitlyn rummage through the crowd of people, trying to find you. “I don’t know if we’re going to find her before the fight!” Cait shouts over the yelling and the music that blasted. “I’m gonna try!” Violet huffs, shoving past all the people, getting to the front where maybe she could spot you on the other side of the arena. Her eyes traveled through the sea of moving bodies. “C’mon.” She mutters to herself. She didn’t want you to think she didn’t come. She had only made it five minutes before the fight even started because of what Cait and her had to do. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen!!!” The announcer screams into the mic, only making everyone louder with their cheers. As he speaks, Vi only zones everything out, trying her hardest not to panic when attempting to find you. 

“Isn’t that her?” Cait points down into the arena with eyebrows scrunched together. Vi’s eyes shoot down to see you standing there against a large woman. “Shit, what’s she doing!?” Violet urgently asks, gripping onto Caitlyn. “I think she’s about to fight.” 

Vi gives her a dirty look, giving her attention back to the scene in front of her right as the announcer starts the fight. The woman attempts to attack you but you swerve out of the way. You look up to see Vi and Caitlyn. You blow them a kiss before turning to the woman and throwing a punch. 

The lady doesn’t dodge it in time, getting hit right in the eyebrow. She tries to throw hits at you but you maneuver around them, hitting her in the right places to cause her to stumble. Vi leans over the edge, now cheering for you. “Kick her ass!” She shouts. Even Caitlyn was amazed at your fighting skills. She wasn’t expecting that from someone so… cute and sweet looking. 

You swiped the lady's feet out from right under her. Going in for the punches. The larger lady attempts to push you away with no avail. 

But when she sees an opening after multiple hits to the face she shoves you off of her. Getting herself up. You roll away, jumping to your feet, you weren’t paying attention when she gets a hit to the middle of your face. Violet gasps, nails digging into Caitlyn’s arm. The dark blue haired girl doesn’t pay attention though. 

You spit out blood, wiping your mouth before going after the woman with more passion than before. Looking like a beast in the ring. You go right for her head, only taking a few hits for her to be back on the ground. 

Not even five minutes into the fight and you win. Leaving her knocked out. 

The announcer commentates as the crowd goes wild. Violet listens to all the people saying how little miss [Name] out there is undefeated. “Holy shit.” Cait whispers. You pump your fists into the air, jumping around for yourself. You have blood guzzling down your nose but you’re having a blast with the attention. You look up, locking eyes with Vi who has a look of bewilderment. You chuckle then motion with your head to the exit doors. She immediately understands what you’re saying. “Meet me at her shop, I’ll see you later.” Violet places a hand on Caitlyn’s shoulder before pushing through the crowd.

You and Vi used to sneak and see the fighters in the back frequently as children. Not to meet them or anything but just to say you were in the same room as them. Even then it was kept a secret between you both. 

She sneaks through the men guarding the doors and slips into the very first room she can. Hands snake around her from behind. “Hey!” You scare her, making her jump away from you. She turns with her fists up in defense. You roar into laughter, mimicking her stance. She pouts from being made fun off and smacks your arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you were fighting?! I didn’t even know you could do all that!” She exclaims as you grin. 

“I wanted it to be surprising! Wasn’t I so amazing out there?” You lift your arms, flexing your muscles. “Yeah but honestly I did not see that coming from someone so… adorable?” She tilts her head as she tries to find the right word to call you.

 “Awe I’m adorable?” You poke her side, heading over to the full body mirror in the room, taking the wraps off your hands. “I mean, you’ve always been pretty cute. Like y’know sweet looking. I’ve never seen you even hurt someone!” she maundered, speaking with her hands flailing trying to explain what she meant with bright red ears. 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures. I don’t exactly enjoy being some beast fighter but it pays the bills.” You lean against the little table beside the mirror. Staring off into space at Vi’s shoes. “The shop not doing good?” Vi asks. “It’s seen better days. I have enough for everything except paying Mexi but I’m not letting her go. She’s helped way too much for me to do that.” You sigh, thinking about the young worker who you practically took under your wing. 

“So you risk yourself so you don’t have to fire just one person.” She quizzes and you go to defend your actions but she just snickers. “Gosh you really are too sweet for your own good, [Name]. I love you so much.” She holds her stomach as she laughs. Amused by how kind you are. “You love me?” You attempt to tease her but her face drops, realising what she said. “I mean, yeah! I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” She speaks so nonchalantly it catches you off guard. When she said she loved you, you thought of it as a family thing. Not romantic. You weren’t upset but your mind was spiraling now. 

“I’m sorry if it’s too much. I don’t even know if you have a partner already or something. I’ve been gone for so long I just. I’ve never stopped thinking about you even though we were only 15.” She over-explains, and you go up to her, putting a finger to her lips. “I love you too, Violet. I wasn’t kidding when I said I missed you.” You tell her earnestly, your hand going to her cheek. 

Her shoulders drop, relieved by your words. “Oh thank god, I thought I had just scared you or something. I feel so stupid.” You shush her with a small laugh. “I forgot how much you talk when you’re nervous.” You whisper as she plants her forehead on yours. “I only do it with you.” She shamefully admits. 

“Mm, really?” You ask before locking your lips on hers. She moans into the kiss, deepening it by bringing you closer to her. The kiss was rough, making up for lost time. Wandering hands over one another's bodies. 

When you pull apart you grin, throwing your arms over her shoulders. “We're dating.” You state, not asking but telling her. She shakes her head. “I didn’t know that.” 

“Well you do now.”

 You peck her lips. 

•••

Time passes and Vi comes into the shop whenever she can, you let Mexi watch over so the both of you can go out. Always in cute light colored clothes in such a dark place. 

People never understood how you were so bubbly, giving to others and dancing in the middle of Zaun. 

Violet loved it, watching as a street performer played and you danced to music. Children joining you. Even a few adults. It was these moments the undercity needed. A little distraction from the horrors about to come. 

You’d have these sweet moments everyday and then night comes and you’re in people's nightmares. Fighting to pay the bills you said. Fighting to win and prove you’re more than what others call a weak minded, overly nice girl. And Vi’s there to support her girl through it all. 

Loving every second. 

[psi-hate]

alright, this really, really sucks but i have an unfortunate update that occurred regarding my recent living situation.

not to get into too much detail for the sake of my friend's privacy, but she and her fiance offered to take me in after i was suddenly on the verge of homelessness this february. i accepted their offer and moved in thanks to everyone's support, and for the last few months, i felt comfortable and capable in getting myself together for the first time in years.

however, despite what i assumed were all positive developments, things started getting a lot more complicated. i become exposed to the treatment and stress my friend has been suffering from her fiance over many years, from being spied on via tracking apps, in-house cameras, a ridiculous jealousy complex and all sorts of other personal issues.

her friends and i have been supporting her over the years, but i didn't realize how bad it was until i started to be subjected to it as well.

my friend decided to break up with her fiance last week, finally standing up for herself but still wanting to remain friends and live as normally as they could, they still had the house and their cats and such. her now ex-fiance hasn't taken kindly to this and has been pretty passively hostile towards us, and has started to take it out on me.

she started stalking my tumblr to find things to get mad at, and checking the cameras when i leave my room. i've not felt comfortable to leave my room in well over a week other than to get some food or use the bathroom in the middle of the night, the tension has been a nightmare.

my friend and i decided we needed to move out, especially me since i'm technically not a tenant and we suspect she's going to call the police on me to get me out of here. my friend will be going to her parents at a later point, but i unfortunately need to leave within a couple weeks as i've already been "indirectly" threatened.

this is sort of a nightmare, and i feel so horrible things turned out this way for my friend. i tried my best, but this feels out of my control. trying to keep the peace has only made things worse, and we think it's best for me to book it before i get blind-sighted.

i suspect if her ex-fiance sees this, she'll retaliate, but at this point i've already made my peace with that.

unfortunately, i won't be able to bring much of my stuff with me, i only have enough money for a ticket to move in with another close friend as an emergency.

i don't have enough to buy any checked bags for most my belongings, especially my desktop pc, so once i move i'm very likely going to not be able to do my art or anything until i can afford a laptop eventually. i'm really sorry to those waiting on any commissions, i'll try my best to get them done before i move. i feel so horrible about this.

if anyone is able to help, i'd really appreciate it. even just a reblog is more than i can really ask. i hesitate to make this request because i feel like i just asked for it only for it to all be wasted once this exploded in my face. but i've been encouraged to reach out, and i apologize if this is too much. my ko-fi:

thank you so much for supporting me so far. i don't want to disappoint anyone anymore. i am so scared but i still want to keep trying.

[windybluebelles]

Bernard Dowd is approximately 15 years old, has just had his allowance cut off, was fired from his job, and is 99% sure that both his best friends are somehow involved in the mob.

(I mean he wasn’t entirely wrong on either front but hey ho, no use dwelling on it)

All this means is that he has no money and no good way to spend his free time as Tim and Darla are always “Busy”

So when he hears of an up and coming crime lord just desperate for new recruits, he jumps on it!

(Guys I swear he’s a good person most of the time, he’s also a teenager who is rude or die and if his besties are involved in the mob who’s to say he shouldn’t be?)

Jason Todd (who was really only mildly desperate for new recruits, thank you very much) takes one look at clearly a child Bernard and immediately turns him down.

Bernard does what everyone else in his generation did and just ignores him and starts following him around everywhere.

Hey! Atleast he doesn’t have a camera and isn’t in a cape!

Jason falls victim to the same thing that Bruce did and realises that Bernard will continue doing what he wants and the only thing he can do is either help him or break his legs. Unfortunately he has a policy against hurting kids, even bitchy annoying ones with stupid sunglasses.

Several years go by,

He no longer has those friends, he doesn’t speak with his parents, and he’s about to enter college. He really doesn’t have time to be one of Hood’s merry men anymore.

He quits the life of crime, accepts his last pay check, and gets given a personal number from his boss.

(Of course they aren’t friends, don’t be silly! Jason is glad to see the stupid kid gone, gone off to civilian life where he’ll never see him again!…)

Bernard starts college, a dual major in Medicine and Cookery cause he hates himself, and almost immediately joins a cult!

…Should he have stayed with the Crime Lord?

Probably! ANYWAY-

Another year or so passes, he leaves the cult, starts dating Timothy Drake-Wayne, eventually finds out his boyfriend is Robin, yadayadayada boringggg

Bernard is at Wayne Manor one day when he hears a voice he never thought he’d hear again.

And then it’s like that spider man meme idk, I can’t write guys I’m so sorry

[kozycub]

My history!!

Hey everyone! I know I’ve been promising this post for a while, and I’m sorry for the delay—I’ve been very busy on these days. But here it is!

I’m Ethan, and I want to share my journey with incontinence to build confidence and give you a glimpse into my daily life. Over the past two weeks, adult diapers have been a total lifesaver for me, protecting my clothes and my furniture!

I’ve been dealing with incontinence for almost my whole life. From what I can remember, I’ve always worn diapers at night, and as I outgrew regular ones, my parents refused to keep gettin them and I often woke up to a wet bed. It hasn’t always been this challenging, but it’s definitely had its struggles.

When I was a kid, around six or seven, i used to wear baby diapers, so I wouldn´t wake up in a wet bed. My parents, believing I was doing it on purpose, stopped putting me in diapers. At that time, I didn’t have the money for products like Goodnights or pull-ups, and my parents weren’t very understanding. They thought punishing me would make the problem go away, but that just made things worse.

I spent my preteen years using towels under my sheets. Whenever I got some pocket money, I’d sneak off to the drugstore for overnight mats, terrified of my parents finding out. After all those years, I don’t blame them; they just didn’t know how to handle the situation.

Having friends over or even thinking about sleepovers felt impossible. I wasn’t very social, but I did have a few good friends in elementary school, always keeping my reality as a top secret. Eventually, my parents just let me deal with it alone.

As I entered high school, I focused more on my studies and slowly had fewer accidents—maybe just one or two nights wet per week at most. This continued into college, where I was finally able to work and gain some financial independence. I got my own place and could manage my incontinence on my terms, but it never completely went away.

During that time, I was in a relationship with someone who initially promised to support me. Unfortunately, after a few weeks sleeping together, the reality of my nightly routine was too much for her, and we parted ways.

Each time I dated someone new, I had to come clean about my situation. Some were kind and simply left, while others laughed and ghost me after. I never managed to maintain a relationship for a longer time.

Over time, I met many people, but when it came to our first night together, revealing my situation often led to them ending things. That was until I met my current spouse, who has been my rock throughout this journey.

For a while, accidents were rare, and I thought I could finally ditch the protective mats. But recently, my incontinence worsened, and I found myself back in diapers and now for full-time. It all changed after a particularly embarrassing moment stuck in traffic—I just couldn’t hold it anymore.

This has been a period of new experiences, learning about my body, and working on my self-esteem. I’ve come to accept that I can lead a happy life while wearing diapers to avoid accidents.

Now, I can enjoy family gatherings without anxiety about wetting my pants. Going out to restaurants and public places is no longer a big deal. I can even invite friends over without worrying about embarrassing odors or accidents. After so long, I finally feel like myself again, knowing I’m not any less of a person for managing my incontinence.

I think that’s enough for today! I know I’ve left out some details, but I’m here to answer any respectful questions you might have, please feel free to ask.

Take care, Ethan 💫.

[phoward89]

Masterlist

WARNING ⚠️: Coryo is his own warning in and of himself. Delusional!Coryo, Soft!Dark!Coryo, Soft!Dom!Coryo, Reader has some survival instincts, Reader knows keeping Coryo happy keeps her alive and well, cussing, possession, obsession, slight manipulation, sex (p in v), breeding kink.

Chapter 8:

“Coryo, we got some Christmas presents from Sejanus' parents, the Plinths, today.” You announce as soon as your husband walks thru the door.

“Yea, Sejanus said he'd tell Ma to send us something.” He tells you removing his coat and hanging it up

“It was addressed to Coriolanus and Y/N Snow.” You get up from your seat at the kitchen table. Making your way over to Coryo, you ask, “How did they know we got married, did he tell them?”

“Mail from the Capitol takes at least a week to get here, so Sej didn't tell them.” He begins, making large strides towards you. “But I know he told Ma Plinth about us, so I think she just had a motherly hunch that I'd be making an honest woman out of you.” Coryo smirks, coming up to you.

“Oh.” You nod, mouth in an open O shape. Pointing to a bare corner in the one room flat, you announce, “Wouldn't that spot be a good one for a Christmas tree?”

“Yes, it would be.” Coryo agrees, nodding his head. Looking at you, he asks, “Are there tree lots here?” But before you can answer him, he's going on about the Capitol. “The Capitol has tree lots, but most families just started buying trees and decorating them again over the last few years.”

Your husband didn't say why and you didn't ask. The unspoken words of after the war hung heavily in the air. You knew that wealthy families only just started decorating trees again because of the aftermath of the war.

A war that took your parents from you; took the childhood you should've had from you.

“There's Christmas tree lots here, but the trees are small. Barely 4 feet tall.” Was the answer you gave your husband. Pointing at the table in a silent gesture for him to sit down, you go to make him up a plate. As you place a piece of chicken on the plate along with scooping some riced and peas onto the plate as well, you tell your husband, “The trees in 12 are huge. Bigger than any you've ever seen before. Infact, the only place I imagine to have bigger trees would be District 7.”

“Yes, I imagine the lumberjack district would have larger trees then District 12.” The platinum blonde peacekeeper chuckles, taking his seat at the table. “Do you want to pick a tree out after I'm done with my exam, darling?” Coryo asks, watching you intently as you make yourself up a plate.

“Usually men just bring home the tree in the districts; women and children don't help pick it out.” You explain while grabbing your plates and heading over to the table.

Your husband rolls his icy eyes at your words. “Well, in the Capitol families pick the tree out together.” He says, his tone dripping with superiority. Looking at you as you set the plates down on the table, he says, “We're upholding that Capitol tradition; we're picking out the tree together.”

You're not surprised that he wants to hold onto as many Capitol traditions as he possibly can. It's his heritage after all. But, in a way, isn't it also yours? Your father was a Capitolite after all.

“Okay, then we'll pick out a tree when you're done with the exam.” You smile, turning away from the table and going to the cupboard.

“You can buy whatever decorations you want while shopping with Sejanus.” Your husband informs you as you grab some glasses.

“People usually make ornaments in the Districts; make popcorn and berry strings, things like that.” You explain, going to the fridge and grabbing the bottle of milk.

“People buy them in the Capitol. They're made of the finest spun glass, ribbons, metals, and jewels.” Your husband said while watching you make your way to the table with the milk jug and glass in hand. “My family, unfortunately, had to sell ours when I was a child for money and never had the chance to buy anymore.”

Your heart lurches at your husband's words. Just knowing that Coriolanus grew up poor without a pit to piss in while living in the richest part of Panem made your heart bleed for him. You know how it is to be poor, hell if it wasn't for your relationship with Coryo you'd most likely be starving or frozen right now. And the fact that being poor in Capitol City, Panem is better than being poor in the Districts is very telling; disturbing even.

“One day when we return to the Capitol I'll buy you all of the fine, elegant ornaments that you want.” Coryo promises, his baritone steady and unbreakable, as you fill the milk glasses and take a seat at the table.

Passing him his milk glass, you faintly smile. “Thank you, Coryo.”

As you begin to eat, your husband stares right into your soul and makes you the promise of, “I'm going to become an Elite Officer and I'm getting us out of this shithole. We'll rule Panem one day; we'll take back everything that should've been ours- and more.”

Coriolanus’ head was on his pillow while his large, strong hands were on your hips as you rolled them up and down, up and down, while straddling him. His large cock was stuffed in your tight, wet pussy; making you feel full and him feel as if he's going to combust at any second.

“Fuck, baby, just like that.” Your husband praises. “Just like that.” He groans, feeling your cunt squeeze him just right as you spear yourself on his cock.

“Feels so good, Coryo.” You whimper, feeling the knot in your stomach begin to tighten.

“Make yourself cum, baby. Fuck yourself on my cock; make us cum.” Coryo orders, his tone husky, as he smacks one of your ass cheeks. The smack to your ass lights a fire in you and suddenly you're digging your nails into his shoulders while bouncing faster on his cock.

The feel of his large length inside of you lights your nerves on fire. His swollen cock head kisses your cervix just right, sensing socks of pleasure throughout your dripping core. You're shuddering and shaking in pleasure with every move you make, which causes his cock to slide deeply in and out of you; hitting your special spot just right. And the way your wet, velvety walls hug him so tightly has Coryo ready to shoot his hot load into your cunt. Oh gods, how your tight cunt makes his head spin.

Fucking you is a mix of something primal and sensual in his mind. It's different with you then how it's been with others. He can't get enough of you. Coriolanus also cares about your pleasure, more so than his own. He loves to watch the way your lips part as you moan, the way you shudder and shake as pleasure washed over you, the way your eyes widen and pop as you cum with his name on your lips like a prayer.

And your pleasure being more important than his is why he grips your hips firmly and begins bucking up into you; meeting your grinding movements. He needs you to cum hard around his cock so desperately. So much so that the two of you become a frantic mess of movements.

Coryo manages to sit up; slightly changing the position you're in. But that doesn't stop your heated, frenzied pace. You're still bucking and grinding, desperate for release. Your hands are clawing at each other for purchase. Your faces are so close that your noses are nearly bumping into each other; your hot breaths dance over each other's mouths while whimpering and moaning.

Both of you are close to your peek whenever Coryo huskily swears, “I'm knocking this cunt up tonight. You're gonna be so fucking full of my baby.”

You never gave any real thought to motherhood, but right now your pleasure muddled mind thought that getting knocked up by your husband was a good idea. Or maybe his dirty breeding talk was a turn on. Whatever it was, you found yourself loudly moaning, “Yes! Coryo, yes, yes, yes!”, while cumming hard around his hard cock.

Coryo's lust blown eyes rolled into the back of his head as he witnessed you squirting messily around his cock. It was the hottest thing he's seen in his life. Oh, how you're fucking perfect for him. “The idea of being round and full of my child has you making a mess on my cock, baby.” Your husband points out while pistoning in and out of you at an uncontrollable speed. “Fuck, baby, you're so wet. Fuck, I'm gonna cum soon.”

Resting your forehead against his, you blissfully order, “Cum inside me, Coryo. Knock me up.”

And that was all Coryo needed to hear to release his pent up please. His balls tensed as he bucked up deep inside of your cunt, only to unleash rope after rope of his cum. You hold on to his shoulders as he empties his balls inside of you; painting your room white with his thick, hot seed.

And when he's spent, he finds your lips with his for a glowing, lazy kiss.

“I promise, after tomorrow things’ll change for us.” The platinum blonde declares while pulling you to lay down in the bed with him; covering the two of you up with a thin duvet. “Our kid’s not going to grow up like we did- poor without their parents.” Coryo softly strokes your back, mindful of the still healing wounds amongst the freshly raised scars. Of which he's partially responsible for. Pressing a kiss to your hair, he says, “They're going to grow up as proud Capitol citizens with both its parents. With an Elite Officer for a father and a loving, caring mother.”

“But they'll still be born in the Districts, Coryo.” You remind your husband.

“At the hospital on the PK Base, which is Capitol sanctioned grounds.” Coriolanus counters. Pressing a hand to your flat stomach, he confesses, “I can't wait to watch you grow our child.”

“Coryo, we don't even know if I'm pregnant yet. We haven't been married for too long.”

“Oh, I know you're pregnant.”

“You do, don't you?”

“Mhm…” Your husband hums. “Father's intuition.”

“I thought it was mother's intuition?” You ask, brows slightly raised.

“No.” Your husband shakes his head. A small smile graces his face. “It's father's intuition and I just happen to have it.”

Coriolanus didn't have father's intuition. What he had was a penchant for survival; for rising to the top no matter what. And he’s determined to get his beautiful wife pregnant and to move the two of you as far away from 8 as possible. He's sure as hell that having a child with you will cement his claim on whatever inheritance that Capitol owes you. By being both the husband and the father of your child, the Capitol has to grant him whatever money or property the late Halvirs had in probate to him. Also, Coriolanus is positive that he'll pass his officer's exam; that you'll be heading to District 2 for his Elite Officer's training sometime after the New Year.

One thing Coriolanus Snow knows well is how to stay afloat, how to survive impossible odds. And he's determined to win again, but with you by his side.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @princess-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER EIGHT: CONNECTIONS

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ So.. dinner with the family. Yikes. Damian doesn't release his hold until you're both in a quieter part of the manor, away from potential eavesdroppers. "You enjoy teasing me, don't you?" he murmurs, voice dropping. You grin saliciously. "Of course I do," you reply, your voice teasing as you lean in closer to Damian. "It keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: subtle "accusations" of cheating wc: 4.4k NOTICE: im gonna start adding my notes/end notes on ao3 from now on if i have any. they just include my yapping (the beginning notes are usually just warnings anyway) i might go back and add them to previous chaps, might not.

You actually spend the next morning skipping your first classes in exchange for visiting the Den. You’ve had perfect attendance so far, so you’re only grievance is that you won’t be able to brag about it anymore. You’ll send in an excuse note later.

The reason for your absence is to take note of what you need for the badassium. Karen lists things off for you as you write them on a little note. A lot of it is high-grade expensive stuff. If Victoria can’t get it for you, you’ll just ask her for the money to get it yourself. Or just ask her where you can steal it.

You arrive only a tad bit late to ballet class. That’s a lie, there’s five minutes left till the bell. The teacher barely notices, too occupied with scolding some of the other kids. Victoria sees you enter and scurries over.

“Where were you?” she asks.

You pull out the list, holding it up to her. “Making this.” You hold it out to her. “It’s a list of all the stuff I need. You wanna help me? Get me these.”

She takes the paper, looking it over. “What is it?”

“Materials I need. I’m building something really important.” Victoria’s eyes roam the sheet, before nodding and tucking it into her bra.

“How fast do you need them?”

“As fast as you can get them without raising suspicion. If you can’t get them, either give me the money or tell me where I can pick it up myself.”

Victoria raises a brow. “You’d steal it?”

You shrug. “What, like it’s hard?”

She huffs is disbelief. She’ll get used to you soon enough. The bell rings, and you and Victoria walk out together. “My staff are very discreet,” she reassures. “I will get it to you.”

“Drop it off at this location,” you text her the address. It’s an old apartment close to your Den. No one lives there, you made sure.

Determined to be of use, she nods. You wave her goodbye as you drop her off. Since you missed first period, you’ll only get to see Damian at the end of the day. You also missed lunch, so there goes your most fulfilling meal of the day.

You’re beginning to feel like a zombie. You’ve always been isolated from your peers, not on purpose, most of the time. Your mind is simply far beyond theirs in every universe, it seems. It’s why you started online classes, you simply just couldn’t stand being in school with others. It was just so boring . Unfortunately for you, you’re stuck in class. Life’s rough. Maybe you should start skipping more often. You can definitely catch up, you just have to not miss too many classes.

Ms. M greets you with a bright and cheery disposition, quite the opposite to your current demeanor. You give Ms. M a stiff but polite smile, trying to muster some enthusiasm. She’s one of the few teachers you actually like, her passion for the subject always evident.

You place your head down on your desk, feeling the lull of boredom pull you under. As Ms. M begins her lecture, you try to focus, but your mind keeps drifting back to the list of materials and your plans for the badassium. The thought of finally making significant progress makes you giddy.

Luckily for your peace of mind, Ms. M has a short lecture for the day with no assignment. She leaves the class alone for the remainder of the day. You shut your eyes, breathing calm. Feeling the call of sleep, you answer, escaping from the boringness of the day.

Except a finger flicks your ear, rudely disturbing your would-be sleep.

“Damian,” you murmur, rising. “May I help you?”

“Where were you this morning?” He doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. He never does.

“Not here,” you grumble. “I had to take care of some stuff. And I was kind of thinking about not even coming at all.” It’s true. Most people in their right mind just stay home if they’re even ten minutes late.

Damian picks a piece of lint from your collar. “I thought that perhaps you were affected by Ivy’s abilities. After all, I doubt you are capable of taking care of yourself.”

You cup Damian’s face, making his lips pucker. “Aw, is this your roundabout way of saying you want to take care of me? You’re so sweet.”

He takes your hands into his own, pulling them away. “I didn’t think you the unfaithful type, [Name].”

You blink. “Huh?”

“Considering the compromising position I found you and Victoria in, certainly the two of you are… together?” His face twists as he says the last word. Oh, yeah. You forgot that he walked in on the two of you. The whole carnival thing occupied your thoughts.

“Well, first of all–” you start, placing your hands in your lap, tugging his hands there as well. “–you make it sound like we’re in the regency era and I’ve just compromised the young lady Victoria,” you huff in a British accent, rolling your eyes. “Second of all, what you walked in on was a… confusing situation. We kissed, agreed we were better of as friends, and that’s that. I am not the unfaithful type, fuck you,” you grin. Leaning back, you raise your legs so perch them on his thighs. Surprisingly, he lets you.

“So don’t worry, I’m still available and I would never cheat on you, baby.”

He pinches your thigh in retaliation, before moving to massage your calves. You let your head hang over the edge of your chair, relaxing. Damian’s got skilled hands, he has too. From his background as an assassin and his current occupation as Robin. His fingers work the stress out of your muscles. His hands feel really nice.

“We’ll go to my home to work more on the project,” he mutters, focused on his current task. You hum in contentment, the tension in your muscles melting away under Damian's skilled hands. “Sounds good to me,” you murmur. “Alfred makes really good sandwiches.”

Damian continues to knead your calves for a few more moments before finally stopping. “You’ve become spoiled.”

You laugh softly, sitting up and stretching. “Says the rich one.” You and Damian gather your things as the last bell rings. Stepping outside, you breathe in the cool air. It’s getting colder in Gotham, soon it’ll start snowing. Damian’s hand finds its place on your back, guiding you to the car. You make sure to greet Alfred as you step inside. 

“How’s Jon doing?” you ask. “I hope he isn’t too embarrassed about what happened.”

“Jon is fine. The antidote did it’s part. As for his unnecessary embarrassment…” he trails off, “...you should ask him yourself.”

You tsk. “Useless,” you joke. You have a feeling Jon will do anything to ignore and forget about what happened, so you’re not sure how easy it’ll be to ask him.

Wayne Manor stands before you once again as you arrive. The sprawling estate is both imposing and welcoming, a testament to the Wayne family’s legacy. You step out of the car, feeling a mix of anticipation and exhaustion.

When you enter, you’re greeted by a loud bark. A large dog, a Great Dane, rounds the corner. He trots happily towards Damian, panting. Damian gives him generous pets.

“This is Titus,” he introduces. Titus barks at you in greeting.

You grin reaching out a hand to pet him. “Hi, Titus.” Titus leans into your scritches, making you coo and increase your petting tenfold. 

“Sorry about that! I guess he knew you were here and got excited,” says a voice, rounding the corner. A figure clad is comfy loungewear makes his way over to the two of you. You clock him immediately as none other than Dick Grayson. He bears a charming smile as he approaches.

“You must be Damian’s friend I’ve heard so much about,” he greets, holding out a hand.

You shake it, looking at Damian smugly. “You talk about me, Dami?” You grin as he glares at you.

“I’m his older brother, Dick.”

The urge to make a joke is very strong, but you persevere. Wrong audience. “Nice to meet you. Damian hasn't mentioned you at all," you tease lightly, shooting Damian a playful glance.

Dick chuckles, looking between you and Damian with a knowing expression. "I can see that. Well, if you're Damian's friend, you're welcome here anytime. And it's always nice to meet someone who can keep him on his toes."

You chuckle softly, liking his easygoing demeanor. "Thanks, Dick. I'll do my best to keep him in line."

Damian doesn’t like how you and his brother are plotting against him in front of him, so he grabs you arm and drags you away. “We have work to do, Grayson. Do not bother us.”

Dick grins and winks as you two disappear from view. As Damian drags you away, you shoot Dick a playful wave before disappearing from view. You can hear Dick's laughter echoing behind you, amused.

Damian doesn't release his hold until you're both in a quieter part of the manor, away from potential eavesdroppers. "You enjoy teasing me, don't you?" he murmurs, voice dropping.

You grin saliciously. "Of course I do," you reply, your voice teasing as you lean in closer to Damian. "It keeps things interesting, doesn't it?"

“It seems to be your only talent,” he says, turning to look at you. Your faces are close together, breaths intermingling.

Your playful grin widens at his comment, enjoying the closeness as Damian's gaze meets yours. "Oh, I have plenty of talents," you retort smoothly, teasingly brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Damian's pupils dilate, a glint flickering in his eyes before he regains his composure.

"Is that so?" he challenges, a smirk playing on his lips. His hand, which had been resting on your arm, moves to lightly trace the line of your jaw, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

You lean into his touch, meeting his gaze with a mixture of playfulness and genuine affection. "Mhm," you murmur, your voice low. "But you'll have to stick around to find out all my secrets."

The intensity in Damian's eyes deepens, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. "Maybe I intend to," he replies, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

Before the moment can escalate further, a loud bark interrupts the thick atmosphere. Titus, ever the loyal companion, trots over to Damian’s side, breaking the spell between you and Damian. You chuckle softly, pulling back slightly as Damian withdraws his hand.

Damian straightens beside you, brushing his hands down his front. Clearing his throat, grumbles. “We are distracted, we should be working.”

You shrug, easy. “You’re the guide.”

Damian leads you into the same room you worked in the last time you visited. Titus takes perch under the table, settling in and curling up. Today will probably be the last time you’re invited over for a while, if not indefinitely. You’re sure you’ll finish the powerpoint in an hour or so, so you wonder if Damian will kick you out as soon as that happens.

You hand Damian your laptop, since it’s been mostly you doing the actual work, it’s his turn. His fingers fly across the keys as he types. You sit on the table next to him and point out things he should add. You both work in comfortable silence, occasionally broken by your comments and Damian's terse responses. The atmosphere is focused, the earlier playful tension replaced by a shared sense of purpose. 

After an hour or so, you lean back, stretching your arms above your head. "I think that covers everything," you say, looking over the final slide.

Damian gives a final, scrutinizing look at the presentation before nodding in agreement. "It’s comprehensive," he admits, shutting the laptop. "We should be prepared for any questions they throw at us."

"Good," you reply, hopping off the table. "Now that the hard part's done, let's hope the presentation goes smoothly."

Damian closes your laptop and sets it aside. "It will. We've covered every angle. Even if they ask something unexpected, we can handle it."

You smile, appreciating his confidence. You stretch once more, your muscles appreciating the movement after sitting for so long. Titus wakes up from his nap, prancing over to you. You kneel and pet his face generously. He whines when you pull away to gather your stuff.

As you gather your things, you notice Damian watching you with an inscrutable expression. You can't quite read what's going on in his mind, but there's a sense of something unsaid lingering in the air.

“What is it?” you ask.

Damian hesitates, which he seems to do a lot around you. It’s strange to you how someone who appears so sure of himself, so absolute can do such a thing. “What are your plans for your future?”

You blink, taken aback. “Like… after high school?”

He nods, his gaze intense. "Yes. What do you see yourself doing?"

It's a question you haven't given much thought to, caught up as you are in the present challenges. You don’t really want to give it much thought. Being here long enough to go to college makes your stomach turn. You can’t pretend like you have been miserable all this time. You’ve made friends, made a life here. But it’s not your life.

“I haven’t really thought about a college or anything. I know I want to help people,” you say, eyes trailing off. “What do you wanna do?”

Damian’s expression softens. “I want to continue my fathers legacy. Do everything to make the city safer, I suppose. However, I would also like to explore my own interests.”

“I look forward to seeing your art in a museum, Damian,” you declare, facing him.

There's a moment of shared understanding between you, a recognition of the complexities that lie beneath the surface. It's a comforting feeling, knowing that despite your differences, you share a common drive to carve out your own paths.

A polite knock echoes against the door before it opens. Dick pokes his head out with a smile on his face. “Hey, you two. Hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

You shake your head. “Nah, we just finished.” You shoulder your bag over your shoulder. “I was actually about to head out.”

Dick perks up. “Actually, Alfred wanted to know if you would like to stay for dinner.”

Behind you, Damian freezes and narrows his eyes. “As [Name] was just saying, they were leaving–”

“–Actually I think I will stay for dinner,” you grin at Damian. Only a fool would skip out on a chance to taste Alfred Pennyworth’s cooking. Any pokes and prods about your identity you’ll meet head on, and any chance to embarrass Damian is a good chance.

Dick matches your grin, nodding. “I’ll let him know.” He disappears, closing the door and leaving you two alone

Damian scowls. “Whatever you are planning–”

“I have no wrong intentions whatsoever Damian,” you furrow your brows and place a hand on your chest in mock offense. “I’m offended you think so low of me.”

Damian's scowl deepens, clearly not amused by your teasing. "You always have some ulterior motive," he accuses, crossing his arms.

You step closer, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. "Maybe I just want to enjoy a nice dinner with your family. Is that such a crime?"

He narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Fine. But don't think I won't be watching you."

You smirk playfully. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

With that settled, you follow Damian out of the room and into the sprawling manor once more. The atmosphere shifts slightly as you join Damian and Titus, walking through the grand halls towards the dining room. You can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and curiosity about what dinner with the Wayne family will entail.

When you step into the room your senses immediately buzz with anticipation, jittering around your skull. Just about every single member of the Batfamily is present. Even goddamn Jason Todd is here, helping Alfred set the table. It boosts your ego a little bit. Bruce Wayne greets you as you enter.

“I’m glad we can have you over,” he smiles. “Damian doesn’t have many friends to bring over.”

You snort at Damian’s grunt. You decide not to push Damian's buttons further in front of his family. For now. "Thank you for having me, Mr. Wayne," you reply politely.

Bruce nods back, his smile warm and welcoming. "Please, call me Bruce. Make yourself at home."

You take your seat at the large table, Damian at one side and Dick at the other. Everyone else settles in as well. Alfred serves the meal, a fancy foreign meal you don’t understand the name of. Damian, of course, gets a vegetarian portion of it.

Jason speaks up first. “You gonna introduce us or what?” He asks Damian. He looks about a second way from pulling out a hidden knife from somewhere, so Dick jumps in to save the day.

“This is [Name], they’re Damian’s classmate and…” he pauses for dramatic effect, “...friend!”

The table erupts in chuckles at Dick's teasing, though Damian remains stoic and unamused. You take the opportunity to greet everyone with a friendly smile and a wave.

"It's nice to meet all of you," you say, trying to match their warm reception despite Damian's icy demeanor.

Tim, who's been quietly observing the interaction, finally speaks up. "So, [Name], Damian's told us a bit about you. How's school been treating you?"

You take a moment to collect your thoughts. "It's been... interesting," you reply diplomatically, trying not to reveal too much. "I’m used to online so it’s definitely an experience."

“[Name] takes a ballet class. They are also the lead in the upcoming winter performance,” Damian pipes up, no doubt trying to put you on the spot. Asshole.

Stephanie grins. “No way! Cass does ballet too,” she claps a hand on Cass’s shoulder. Cass nods. She signs ‘what is your favorite move?’ . Barbara opens her mouth, prepared to translate what Cass said, but you beat her to the punch. You respond, fingers moving in practiced efficiency to gesture out your favorite move. Cass grins in approval.

“You know sign?” asks Duke.

“I know a lot of languages,” you smile. It’s true. Many of the Avengers know multiple languages, and they took to teaching you as much as they could. You even learned some Asgardian to impress Thor (he cried). Nat said it was a crucial skill to have.

“Like what?” asks Bruce, leaning in.

You look up as you think. “Russian, Italian, Spanish, some German, some Latin…” you trail off, “...etcetera. My dad has a lot of cool friends.”

A shared look of impressed spreads throughout the room.  Bruce hums, “and what about your father? What does he do?”

“He invents things. Right now he’s on vacation. Don’t remember where exactly he said, but he sends me money every now and again.”

Bruce gets a kind of sour look on his face before nodding. “Ah, sounds like quite the character,” Bruce responds with a nod, trying to maintain his composure. You sense there might be more to Bruce's reaction, perhaps his adoption senses are tingling (God forbid). The dinner conversation continues on lighter notes as everyone shares anecdotes and stories, keeping the atmosphere lively.

“Damian says you also like to invent and program things,” pipes up Dick.

“Yeah, I’m actually working on something right now. It’s pretty big, but hopefully it’s works,” you reply vaguely.

“Your father must be very proud of your accomplishments,” Bruce remarks, his tone measured. He gets a couple of side-eyes.

You nod. “Yeah, he always encourages me to pursue my interests. He’s pretty cool like that.”

Barbara chuckles, "It's always good to have interests outside of school. Keeps things exciting."

Tim nods in agreement, sipping his drink. “Yeah, I dabble in programming too. It’s a useful skill to have.”

After a while, Alfred brings out dessert - a decadent chocolate mousse that looks almost too good to eat. Everyone digs in eagerly, sharing their thoughts on the meal and enjoying the dessert in comfortable chatter.

Throughout the evening, you notice Bruce observing you with a mix of curiosity and concern, as if trying to gauge something beyond your words. His occasional glances toward Damian and Dick imply a silent conversation that you're not privy to, though you catch a few knowing looks exchanged between the brothers.

As the dinner winds down, Alfred discreetly clears away the dishes, signaling the end of the meal. You offer to help with the dishes, but Alfred kindly declines, insisting that you're a guest tonight.

Dick stretches contentedly, breaking the comfortable silence that has settled over the table. "Well, it's been great having you over, [Name]. Hope you enjoyed the meal."

"Yeah, thanks for letting me crash dinner," you reply warmly, smiling around the table. "It's been really nice."

Damian stands abruptly. “I believe [Name] should be heading home now,” he states, pointedly ignoring the snickers.

You nod, rising from your seat. "Right. Thanks again for having me, everyone."

“You’re more than welcome to stay the night, [Name],” smirks Tim. “We have plenty of room, though I’m sure Damian would be happy to–” Cass pinches Tim’s ear, interrupting his sentence.

You smile at their antics. “My cat is waiting for me, so I have to pass. I appreciate the offer, though.”

Bruce nods, his expression serious yet not unkind. "Anytime, [Name]. You're welcome here."

With a final round of goodbyes and well-wishes, you follow Damian out of the dining room. The atmosphere between you two is quieter now, the playful tension from earlier replaced by a sense of calm. "You enjoyed yourself tonight," Damian states, more a statement than a question.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, your family's pretty entertaining. I like their dynamic.”

There's a moment of silence as you both stand there, the air thick with unspoken thoughts and emotions. You take a step closer, closing the distance between you and Damian. His gaze meets yours, a mixture of intensity and vulnerability that surprises you.

"You know," you begin, your voice low, "I do really like teasing you, Damian. But I also... appreciate our time together." Your heart beats a little faster as you admit this, feeling vulnerable yet strangely liberated.

Damian's expression softens further, a rare vulnerability in his eyes as he looks at you. "I... feel the same," he confesses quietly, almost hesitantly.

Before either of you can say more, the door creaks open, and Dick pokes his head in with a cheeky grin. "Hey, you two. Hate to interrupt, but Alfred’s outside ready to take [Name] home."

Damian straightens abruptly, a hint of irritation flickering across his features. "We'll be there shortly," he replies tersely, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

Dick raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Sure thing. Don't keep Alfred waiting too long," he teases before closing the door.

You roll your eyes playfully at Dick's teasing as he disappears, leaving you and Damian alone once more. There's a brief moment where neither of you speaks, the tension palpable in the air. Finally, Damian breaks the silence.

"We should go," he says, his voice low but firm.

You nod in agreement, trying to dispel the awkwardness that has settled between you. "Right. Let's go."

Together, you and Damian make your way out towards the front door of Wayne Manor. The grandeur of the mansion surrounds you, yet it feels less intimidating now, having spent an evening with Damian's family. As you step outside into the cool night air, Alfred waits patiently by the car, ready to drive you home. Damian walks beside you, carrying your stuff, his demeanor slightly tense yet thoughtful.

As you approach the car, Damian walks up to Alfred and mutters to him. Alfred raises a prim brow, handing Damian the keys with a nod. He walks back towards the Manor, where you see the rest of the family either peeking out the door or straight up standing outside looking. You snort. Damian sets your stuff in the backseat, opening the passenger side door for you to enter. You hum in appreciation, sitting inside.

Bruce watches the car drive away, a pinch in his brow.

“I thought Damian liked Jon?” questions Duke.

“He does.” Barbara squints. Tim gestures to the leaving car. “Then what was that?” he asks. Cassandra hums. “He also likes them, he doesn’t know it yet. Or he is just in denial.”

“Well if Cass says it’s so, then it’s so,” nods Stephanie sagely. Alfred leans closer to Bruce. “They may become part of your brood yet.”

"Perhaps," Bruce murmurs quietly, more to himself than to anyone else. Duke leans in, intrigued. "You think they're good for Damian?"

Bruce considers his words carefully before responding. "I think [Name] challenges Damian in ways that are both positive and... complicated."

Inside the car, Damian focuses on the road ahead, his grip tight on the steering wheel. The drive is quiet. You watch as people go on with their lives. Very few people roam the streets at this hour. You steal glances at Damian occasionally, noting the tense set of his jaw and the focused look in his eyes.

As you approach your apartment building, Damian breaks the silence. "I apologize for my family's... curiosity," he says, his voice soft yet tinged with annoyance.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "It's alright, Damian. They just want to get to know me better."

Damian parks the car and turns to face you, his expression unreadable. "They can be... overwhelming at times," he admits reluctantly.

"You're lucky to have them," you remark sincerely.

Damian steps out of the car, grabbing your bag and walking you to the front door. The air feels like a stark contrast to the warmth of Wayne Manor. Damian's gaze meets yours, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. You lean in slightly, hesitating for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, just like last night. Damian freezes for an instant, different to his lack of reaction before.

"Goodnight, Damian," you murmur, pulling back slightly.

"Goodnight, [Name]," he replies softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

With a final smile, you close the door behind you. Damian stands there for a moment longer before driving away into the night. As you enter your apartment, you're greeted by the familiar sight of Nari lounging on the couch. Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

‘All of your materials have been delivered to the address.’ is what greets you when you open up Victoria’s chat. You grin, sending a thank you. Your bed feels like heaven as you sink into it. Tomorrow real progress will be made, and you can’t wait.

notes: reader and damian are practically dating already lets be honest they just dont know it yet

[hellodropbear]

like she used to (VI)

alexia putellas x sister

part I, II, III, IV, V

~~~~~~

When I asked, Aitana told me there was nothing wrong when she followed Alexia outside. She told me that Mapi hadn't been out there and that she really did need help with her dribbling. 

It was a lie, of course. I am not naive. 

She told me that I was staying at her house tonight, and tomorrow she will call Alba. They were not lies, that much I could tell. 

I don't want her to call Alba, but I don't think I have a choice in that decision.

Aitana and Mapi don't think I should be alone at the moment. Apparently, I have not been taking good enough care of myself to be trusted by myself in my own house.

Their thought is supposed to make me feel comforted, loved. But really, all it makes me feel is frustrated. Weak.

Weaker than I already am.

I am almost 16, I should be able to take care of myself.

I don't tell them that I miss Mami, or that I wish she didn't work until late every night, because I don't want her to pull away from her job. She loves it there, it gives her time away from her children and she can earn money for her future.

I don't tell them that I wish Alba would realise that something is wrong, without having to be told. I can't pull her away from her friends, her job. Her life that doesn't really involve me anymore.

So I don't tell them anything, falling back into the silence as I get into Aitana's car, ignoring her eyes that seemed glued to the side of my face.

"I miss you, Elena."

Her words are almost silent, and if I hadn't strained my ears I wouldn't have been able to hear them.

I know what she means, she misses the person I used to be. I don't know how to tell her that I miss her to, but I just can't seem to find her anymore.

For some reason, her words trigger a sudden swirl of anger, of frustration within me and I am replying before I can even think about what is coming out of my mouth.

"Then leave me alone!"

Aitana recoils and looking back, I can recognise that my words were too harsh. Too harsh to one of the few people who had actually been looking out for me.

But my sadness has morphed into concealed anger over the past few days, a raging fire inside me that is fighting to escape, fighting to explode in the worst way possible.

There is not enough water to put the fire out, my weak attempts only making it grow and grow.

It is just unfortunate that Aitana was the one who had to witness the explosion. If you can even call it that.

Because the tsunami wave is growing, I can feel it building inside of me. It is only a matter of time before it crashes and I feel tense as I wait for the inevitable destruction.

"Elena-" Her voice was soft, too soft. Too kind and too even.

They always were. Mapi and Aitana were always too nice, too caring and too nurturing, even when all I wanted was for someone to scream at me. Someone to yell, to tell me this was all my fault just so I could have someone to blame.

It is too hard to blame Alexia because I love her too much.

It is too hard to blame Alexia because I have been grieving her like she is dead. You do not blame a dead person for dying.

I want to be punished, to be screamed at. I want someone to tell me that I should be like this, to tell me that this is all my fault. I want someone to watch as I cry, to allow me to just release every single thing that is inside of me so I can stop feeling like this.

Stop feeling the sadness, stop feeling the hurt, stop feeling the anger, the loneliness, the isolation.

Stop feeling at all.

Because it all hurts so much, feeling hurts me so much and I want to stop hurting. I want to be safe, comfortable. I want to be loved, to be warm.

I want to be held in Alexia's arms like she used to.

Her hand combing through the knots in my hair, allowing me to fall asleep in her lap.

They were the times I felt most comfortable, right there on the couch, in her arms.

Because she was the sister I went to when I needed comfort, when I needed to cry about all of life's problems. To be frustrated, angry. When I didn't want to be cheered up, when I didn't want to be positive.

To just be miserable.

But it was hard to be miserable when I was consumed by her smell, her touch. The love I could only find in my sister.

And I wish I could get that same comfort from Alba. From Aitana or from Mapi. From anyone that was willing to give it to me.

But I don't think it is that simple.

"I just... I can't do it any more."

Aitana frowns, as if debating inside her what to do.

"What do you need, Lena?"

Her voice cracks. She doesn't know what to do anymore. Similar to how Mapi didn't know what to do with me.

All I need is Alexia, her love and affection. But it is one of the only things I can't get.

So I don't respond, because I can't give her the answer that I want, but there is nothing else that will suffice.

"I don't know why I asked that question. You want Alexia, no?"

I look out the window as I nod.

"Of course I want Alexia!" A tear falls from my eye, although my words do not sound sad, they sound angry.

Because I feel angry, with everything.

But I also feel everything, every emotion giving me whiplash as I finally feel myself breaking.

Aitana hesitates, placing her hand on my shoulder.

"Hey. Hey, Elena, look at me."

I don't turn my head immediately, first trying to shrug her hand off my shoulder but giving up when her grip stays firm, her hand not even budging.

A strangled cry leaves my mouth and I slowly turn my head, my eyes meeting her wet ones.

"What is wrong with me?"

We are in a car, so it is difficult for Aitana to hug me, but she tries her best, reaching over the centre console and wrapping her arms around my trembling body.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Elena. You are going through such a hard thing, but there is nothing wrong with you."

"Why does she hate me so much?"

I whisper through my tears, but Aitana hears me loud and clear.

"She doesn't hate you, not at all. She loves you so much but sometimes it is just hard for her to show it."

"It shouldn't be so hard, it never used to be like this."

~~~~~~

August 23, 2012.

Papi's office door has been closed for too long.

A few months ago, Mami told me that he had died, that he was never coming home. I didn't believe her, so I sat by his locked door, waiting for him to come home and play the piano with me.

But he never did.

Things changed a lot around the house too. Mami started working more and Alexia also started playing more football. Often, it was Alba and me alone at home.

I would sit by the office door, Alba would lie on the sofa, staring at the tv. I don't think she was really paying attention to what was happening because, like Ale and Mami, Alba has not really been doing much at all since Papi left.

But now he has been gone for ages. A long time.

A time that has been so long that I find myself believing Mami. Papi will never come back from heaven.

They say that heaven is a good place, where everyone is happy and everyone gets what they want.

But Papi is in heaven without me. Does that mean he is happy without me? He doesn't want me any more?

The thought crosses my mind over and over, day after day. But I do not tell Mami, because she misses Papi too. I don't want her to think that Papi doesn't want her anymore.

Because why else would he stay there without us.

Alexia cries when I tell her my suspicions. I am sat in the back of her car as she drives me to her training after kindergarten, but she pulls over when the words spill out during my long ramble about my day.

I had been telling her all about the arts and crafts that we had been doing, what I ate for lunch and how I couldn't sleep at nap time. She asked me why, and I told her that it was because my brain was moving too much and I couldn't get the wriggly creatures out and get to sleep.

"What were you thinking about that was so wriggly, pequena?"

She had glanced at me through the rear view mirror, so I could see her frown. I saw it deepen as I explained the reason and watched her indicate and pull over to the side of the road.

She was quick to get into the back seat with me, easily pulling me into her arms and allowing her fat tear drops to fall onto my head.

"That is not true, Elena. Heaven is not a place people want to go to. They only go when they have no choice. Because if Papi had the choice, he would be at home with us. At home where he belongs, teaching you to play the piano, giving you cuddles and kisses, giving you baths, feeding you dinner, singing you to sleep. He is not happy without us, without you, but he is always up there, watching us and making sure we are all happy, making sure that we are all ok."

That was the moment that I realised what death meant, and that was the moment that I started to cry.

"Papi is gone forever? He can not come home, Mami said. But why, Alexia? Why can't he come home?"

Her arms tightened around me and she exhaled quietly before speaking.

"He was sick, p, very sick. His body couldn't handle the sickness and one day it stopped working. You can't live without a working body, so he went to heaven. He died, Elena, and we can't do anything to bring him back."

I didn't have a response for that. All I could do was cry, sobbing into my sisters arms in the back seat of her car on the side of the main road.

Her keys were still in the ignition, the engine still running as my body wracked with sobs, apparently contagious as Alexia dissolved into quieter cries into my hair.

I think I fell asleep there, because the next thing I knew, Alexia was carrying me into the house.

My eyes stung and my face felt dry, but as soon as we walked inside the house, I knew where Ale was taking me.

The chestnut door had not been unlocked in months, but I remember that the key was kept in the top draw of the shelf in the lounge. I couldn't reach the draw, but I grabbed the key as soon as it was in Alexia's hand, reaching down from where I was balanced on her hip as she walked silently down the hallway.

I could feel her breath catch when the door opened and my own stomach filled with butterflies as she sat down on the piano stall, sitting me right in her lap.

"Do you want to play your song?"

I shook my head. It didn't feel right playing without Papi beside me. His study felt haunted, almost, like he should be right behind me, ready to scoop me us and cover me in kisses once I finished my song.

But deep inside of me I knew he would not be there, yet it would be impossible to prepare myself for the disappointment that I would feel when he wasn't there.

So I curled up into my older sister who easily wrapped her arms around my trembling form, planting a soft kiss on my hair.

"Papi loves you so much, Elena. So, so much. He will always be up there looking out for you and I will help him out by being the one to look after you down here. I will always love every bit of you because you are my best friend, pequena."

I had nodded, responding meekly.

"You are my best friend too, Ale. I love you as well."

I fell asleep in her lap again, but the next time I woke up, it was beside her in her bed.

And I was comfortable, because my sister means everything to me.

She is the person who will be there for me forever.

~~~~~~

I was angry for the next few weeks, despondent when Mapi or Aitana tried to get anything out of me.

But they had gone over me and decided that even though I didn't want to, they would call Alba to at least let her know that I wasn't ok.

I had listened to them on speaker phone to each other from the other room, although I didn't want anyone to realise how much I actually cared. How nervous I was of rejection, of Alba not caring.

But to say she cared was an understatement.

"What do you mean, 'she's not doing well?'" Alba's voice was frustrated, that much was clear. "Is it because of Alexia? The pressure in the first team? She promised she would tell me if she needed me."

It was Mapi who responded, knowing Alba better than Aitana.

"It's everything, Alba. It is obvious when you see it, so we've been looking after her for the past two months."

"Why didn't you call me earlier? I would have been there immediately!"

She was frustrated by them, but I dread her reaction when she is told why they didn't call her earlier. Because it, like many problems in my life, is all my fault, a decision that I made. A decision that Mapi and Aitana did not agree with.

But when Aitana responded, she did not say what I expected her to.

"We didn't realise how bad it was. But she does need you, Alba, please come at some point."

"I am in the car, driving now. Where are you?"

She was clearly annoyed, her voice was very telling.

"We are at mine." Mapi's voice was soft, and I could hear her sigh as Alba hung up.

I sat back down quickly as they returned to the lounge room, not noticing Ingrid's eyes on me from where she was in the kitchen.

"Alba is coming now." Mapi spoke softly, sitting down on the sofa, leaving a large distance between us.

"I am going to go home now." I looked at Aitana as she spoke and nodded. She waved to Mapi and Ingrid, grabbing her bag and heading out.

Alba arrived not long after, practically storming inside, concern etched into her frown.

"Elena." She gasped softly, sitting herself down right beside me and wrapping one arm around me.

"Elena, what has happened?"

I shrug nonchalantly, not volunteering any information. I watched as Mapi cowered under Alba's strong glance, apparently not sure what she should say.

Ingrid was calm as she entered, however, placing a cup of coffee in front of Alba and then her girlfriend.

"Elena has been staying here for a while, some nights she's been with Aitana."

"Have you been sleeping? You look tired. You are also pale, Elena. Why didn't you tell me? Even if Maria and Aitana didn't think it was necessary, why didn't you say something when we were on the phone?"

Alba studies me closely, stress evident in her voice.

It reinforces my decision to not tell her anything until I am ok again, because now she will be everywhere.

I can't live with her because she lives far from the training ground and doesn't have the time to take me to training, but she will be everywhere else.

There is another uncomfortable silence, broken again by Ingrid.

"She didn't want to be a burden on you. She kept saying how you have your own life and you shouldn't have to look after her."

Alba just shakes her head, her arm securing around my waist and facing me more directly.

"You were wrong, Elena! I am your older sister. Just because Ale and you are not getting on does not mean you ice me out as well."

My face remains blank as she reprimands me, barely registering her words.

"Are you even listening to me? Elena! Please, just let me in."

Her voice breaks and Ingrid looks at Mapi, nodding out of the room. They exit and Alba seems glad to have some privacy.

"Why have you not been staying with Mami?"

"Not my choice."

I am embarrassed about how weak my voice is, but I can't muster any more strength.

All of my strength is used up at training, ensuring I am improving, proving my worth. I have to be good enough to stay there.

It is when I get home that things fall apart, so tired, so emotional. It is easier to be emotionless than emotional.

"Was it lonely at home, when Mami was working?"

I nod.

"And when did you start staying with Maria and Aitana?"

I shrug.

"Couple months ago. Soon after the first game. I told Mapi that I felt confused and lonely so she said I would stay with her."

Alba nods, frowning softly. When she speaks again, her voice is soft.

"I wish you would have told me. I am sorry for not noticing. It's still bad with Ale?"

I can't blame her for not knowing, she said months ago that she was going to stay out of our drama.

"We barely look at each other. It hurts, everything... hurts."

I don't cry because I don't think there are any tears left in me.

"And I don't know what to do because she was always the one I went to when I was feeling confused or when I needed things to make sense. You would cheer me up, but she would clear things up."

She nods, looking at me intently, clearly listening.

"And now I can't talk to her and nothing makes sense anymore. I don't understand anything and I just feel so... full. Like I could just burst at any moment but I'm not going to because I don't think I would deal with that very well. And I can't sleep at night because my thoughts won't stop. It's like as soon as I rest my head on the pillow they just start going and I can't stop them and I can't clear them out because-"

She interrupts me.

"Because Alexia was the one who used to get rid of the wriggly thoughts, no?"

I nod and lean my head on her shoulder.

"Have you played the piano much in the past few weeks?"

She knows that it was my way of releasing my emotions.

I haven't, so I shake my head.

"We will change that, ok? I am going to take you home for the afternoon and we'll get some of your clothes, some things you want from home because I do think it is good that you are here with Ingrid and Mapi. And you can play your piano. It'll make you feel better, I'm sure."

I nod, standing up from the sofa and walking out onto the balcony to where Ingrid and Mapi are waiting.

"Alba is taking me home." I probably should have given some more explanation, because Mapi seems confused.

"Her house is too far from here, you can't stay there, Elena."

I nod.

"She's not taking me to hers, she's taking me to my house for the afternoon. I want to play my piano and I need some of my own stuff anyway."

The Spaniard seems to understand. She nods, standing up and pulling me into a hug.

"Call me if you need anything at all."

I nod, rolling my eyes in amusement. She is too good to me. I tap her head when she releases me from the hug and she laughs, moving to sit back down with Ingrid.

"You haven't used it because it's not great, but you can use my keyboard in the study whenever you want."

"Thanks, Ingrid."

~~~~~~

It was weird walking into my bedroom after such a long time not being here. Alba helped me pack clothes into suitcases, telling me over and over that this was all ok, that everything would be ok.

I think she was mainly trying to reassure herself; Alba has always been most effected by anything that breaks our once strong family unity.

But I am only 15. Almost 16 now, but I shouldn't be by myself every night.

Because they were right, I wasn't feeding myself, I wasn't taking care of myself. It wasn't good and it wasn't healthy.

And I will never forget the kindness that both Mapi and Aitana have shown me, stepping in like sisters when Alexia wasn't there like she should have been.

I think about them as I play my piano, my fingers easily falling back into rhythms that are like second nature.

I feel my tense body relaxing as the song flows on, transitioning between fast and slow, loud and soft. My head spins with thought, but the tears do not fall.

Despite the emotions raging inside of me, my face remains stoic, focused only on the intricate patterns my fingers are creating as they hit the keys so hard that there is a slight ache in my hands. My song is full of my emotions, yet it feels like they barely skim the surface of the raging ocean inside of me.

The ocean that keeps producing waves that crash and fall at any chance they can get, usually quelled by the piano, by the rhythms that hold the meanings and secrets of my life. The notes that have written who I am and what I stand for.

But today they do not stop, they barely even slow down and the lack of the release I am hungry for leaves me unsatisfied. The song doesn't explode as usual, instead slowing down to a anticlimactic ending, my hands recoiling from the keys as I frown down at my hands.

Because why is this happening?

The piano is supposed to make me feel better, but all it has done is make me feel more confused, more worried about everything happening outside.

And I feel betrayed. Betrayed by the piano, but betrayed by my father.

Because the piano connects me to him, and I always thought that as long as I could play the piano, he would be there watching me, guiding me. My connection with him is why the piano means so much to me; it is why I can release everything into the music and calm whatever negativity I may be feeling.

But today it feels like he is not here. And as my eyes rest on the picture above the piano, all I feel is disappointment.

Alexia told me that he would be there to watch me from above and she would be there to love me from where she would always be right next to me.

And I knew that if I had them everything would be ok.

But now... Now I have neither and my whole world is going to slowly fall apart. Piece by piece until there is nothing left but me and those stupid emotions that I can't stop thinking about.

The stupid emotions that I have begun to detest.

The stupid emotions that have ruined my life.

Apparently, I have a never ending supply of tears, because they begin to fall again, my arm slamming on the keys with a sob.

I always thought I would have my father there in my piano, that I could rely on the simple instrument for that love that I so deeply desired. And he has never once failed me. Not when I needed him, not when I wanted him. He was even there when I just wanted to play, to learn, to perform.

But right now, when I need him the most, he decides he won't be there.

And it must be my fault.

For the first time in months, I feel completely empty, void of any of the emotions that have consumed me for so long.

The air becomes blurry as I cry, my mind hazy and my senses obscured.

I don't know what is happening to me, but I can feel myself slipping away as my senses disintegrate into nothing.

I think I have broken myself. Because everything is all so confusing, things rushing through my mind and out so quickly that it feels like everything is falling out of me.

Maybe the tsunami wave has grown big enough that it is ready to crash. Maybe it is already crashing, washing away everything in it's path.

But I don't know if I dislike it, because for the first time in a long time, I feel peace. I don't feel so confused anymore because there is nothing left to be confused about.

It is just me, none of those emotions that sent me into constant overdrive, exhausting me but simultaneously preventing me from resting.

None of the emotions that I used to feel coming back to haunt me, no memories of what my life once was there to mock me, a heartbreaking illustration of everything I have lost.

It's all gone.

Everything has slipped away from me and I am finally calm.

It's just me, my piano and my tears.

So I close my eyes softly, my body folding over onto the piano as my sobs soften to quiet cries. A broken chord rings through my room as my head falls onto the keys and I allow myself to just sit there.

Just me, my piano and my tears.

My door opens, but I can't hear the voices that enter my room, or the footsteps that move towards me.

I don't register the bodies that sit on either side of me on the piano stall, or the worried words that escape from their mouths.

It all sounds like a distant murmur. My skin is numb to any contact.

I don't even register Alba grabbing my face and lifting it to stare into my tear-filled eyes. I don't register the soft slap she leaves on it and there is no way for me to notice the terror that is painted all over her face, even evident in her posture.

But another pair of arms wraps around me and everything comes crashing down.

Because they are arms that I will never not recognise. A hold that is tight enough to comfort me, tight enough to make sure I can't escape, but not too tight to choke me or make me feel trapped.

I used to say that Alexia's arms had some sort of magical powers, their innate ability to calm me down and set me straight was an ability that nobody else possessed.

And Alexia was right there, right next to me. A tear stained face that likely matched mine, her voice shaky and worried as she whispered my name over and over again, her tears falling onto my head.

But Alexia was right there, and everything that she has done came flooding back to me, so quickly that I didn't even have time to register it before her touch burned me, my body instinctively recoiling and standing up.

"No..." my voice was a raspy whisper but could be heard loud and clear by both my sisters.

"No, Alexia. No!"

I stepped out of the hold that both the piano stool and my sisters had on me, backing up to where my bags were, picking them up and fleeing the room.

Because I can't deal with this.

I can't deal with the tears that stain Alexia's face, the terror that was clear on Alba's.

Because this all is my fault.

And there is nothing I can do at this point to fix everything I have ruined.

~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed :)

part VII

[bullet-prooflove]

The Circuit: Travis Wheatley x Reader

Tagging: Tagging: @kmc1989 @pear-1206 @keyweegirlie @nu1freakshow

You are the only woman that Travis has eyes for. He makes that abundantly clear during his most recent rodeo circuit. He’s a rockstar at these things, pulling in accolades, showcasing his best horses, it’s the reason John Dutton brought him on board. Travis is a money maker and the Duttons want in.

Unfortunately all of this brings the buckle bunnies.

Travis has been around the block with a few of them. He has a reputation, you know that and so does he, he’s been working hard to rid himself of it over the past year but it sticks like mud. He’s hopes news has gotten around that he has a girl but belt bunnies, they’re bold.

“I’m with someone.” He tells Lanelle when she tries to climb into his lap.

She’s a blond firecracker from Georgia with measurements that belong in a Playboy Magazine. The two of them have tussled a few times, she always seeks him out at events like this.

“But she ain’t here Sugar.” She says in that sweet Southern tone of hers as she rearranges her top to highlight her assets. “But I am.”

“Not my thing anymore.” He tells her, his voice tinged with disinterest and she pours her beer right into his lap. He has to say he half expected it. Lanelle doesn’t like not getting what she wants, in the past he appreciated that feistiness, now…

It’s gotten old.

She spends the rest of the night, writhing on the knee of some young gun coming up on the Bronco circuit and Travis could not give less of a fuck.

He slips away early, disappearing from the bar and heading towards his trailer. He usually goes to the break of dawn at these things before climbing back on his horse and winning his next bout but the truth is he’s getting tired.

The doctor tells him he has a good few years left in him if he takes care of himself, cuts down on the booze. Too much partying is starting to catch up with him, his liver isn’t functioning the way it should do.

You’re the only one he’s told about that, you and his Mama. His doctor says if he doesn’t slow down, he’ll be looking for a new liver in the next five years. Before you that wouldn’t have deterred him. He lived hard, he played hard, he would have died on that hill. But then you’d come into his life, a vision in a white cowboy hat and worn out plaid and he  realised he wanted to stick around as long as possible.

He’s never through of himself as an alcoholic, he’s always been a good time guy but the damage adds up and now he’s careful about what he drinks, what he eats because he know he doesn’t have a hope on the transplant list. Even if he did have the surgery it would put him out of action for over six months and he can’t imagine going that long without riding.

He's sitting on the edge of his bed when he calls you. He’s been missing you more and more lately, your smile, your laugh, the press of your soft body against his as you lie tangled up together. You’ve been together almost two years now and it’s getting harder to leave.

“I saw you on TV.” You say when you pick up the phone. “You looked good.”

“Yea.” He says pinching his brow to ward off the headache that’s starting to gnaw at his temples. “We made some real money today.”

“You sound tired.” You say softly and it still amazes him how attuned you are to him even over this distance.

“I’m missing you a little.” He admits as he lies back on the mattress, his gaze coming to rest on the ceiling. “Actually, I’m missing you a lot.”

Love Travis? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[apalapucian]

posting my jily hunger games au draft because idk if it's worth continuing lol. under the cut:

when lily's name is called at the reaping, it's petunia she seeks first, and petunia looks at her like—like it makes sense.

besides the pity, which in itself is fucking unbearable, it is this that is damning most of all. this is lily's sentence. this is her death, right here in this courtyard. already shut down before she even steps foot in the capitol. petunia looks at her like it fucking checks out, like it's the best thing lily could ever do in her life. being in the games. dying there. that maybe lily was fucking up so much in life before now because she was meant to do this all along, meant to give the family this level of notoriety and drama.

she marches to the stage and she imagines petunia already planning what to wear and what to say at her funeral. does she think too badly of her sister? probably. is this just games-spurred bitterness? or does she have valid grounds? she doesn't even know anymore.

/

she hated him. the first time she saw james potter, she really thought she hated him.

she watched his reaping video on the train with terrence (the other tribute from twelve) and immediately had—fervid feelings, which she was too quick to identify as hate. dislike. some sort of aversion. she's not entirely sure why; he was doing something incredible in the video, volunteering for the boy who was picked. some unfortunate lanky boy called remus lupin.

although, you know, he's not really unfortunate, is he? lupin. the guy's probably at home right now, eating cheese and tangerines while he watches his friend die. or something like that. lily doesn't know how the rich cope. is he rich? only james and that other friend of theirs seemed rich. sirius black. the other volunteer—look, it's a whole thing. maybe remus lupin and sirius black are snacking together and holding hands right now, eyes glued to some giant screen in some giant mansion.

meanwhile, she's here with james. james potter, the brave and noble, from district seven.

in the video, when remus lupin was called, two people broke ranks to put in their own names for him. chaos erupted. sirius black's volunteering in particular was an outrage, as he was apparently heir to one of those snobby elite families who hold office slash run those highly exclusive, underground hunger games betting clubs. even as he frantically volunteered for lupin (this lupin guy must have significantly changed their lives), even on tv, sirius had a sweeping, authoritative air about him, a regality in his walk and starched collar that screamed money and class. lily supposes she hated him, too. she hated all three of them. it was just generally very easy to hate anyone who had easy access to things like cheese and tangerines and friendship that run that deep.

the way they volunteered that day, immediately and ostentatiously and with zero reservation—people ate it up. until lily's last night in the world—until right before she entered the place of her imminent death, that is—it was the most viewed video of this season. probably even more than most available content on prior games. not even dorcas meadowes attacking caesar flickerman live or cassius mulciber's blatantly racist ass comments or jeanne marchbanks's cleavage close-up beat it. people, including lily, watched and rewatched it, had something to comment about every aspect of it: the unprecedented mare's nest that is two people volunteering, the shock of the people realizing who the volunteers were, the way they all argued, the way sirius's family security eventually all but dragged him from the stage. the way no one came for james, in the end. all right in front of the crowd, all in front of the whole world through the cameras.

lily suspects it's envy, later on. that initial, intense feeling. she envies remus for having two people willingly take his place without thinking twice.

wonder what that's like.

anyway, it's not even about all that now. it's about james. and fervid feelings. and how these stupid, inexplicable feelings held up all the way here, now, somehow with his head on her lap and a dead kid not fifteen feet away from them, james's life—or death, so easily also his death just as much—so heedlessly thrust in her hands.

[slowlyoats]

The Lost Boys: When they break up with or are broken up with by their S/O

******Note: This post definitely makes the boys come off super toxic, so if that's not your thing you've been warned******

Marko 

I could see him being the one to break Hearts

His artsy fartsy ways of doing things aren’t for everyone 

And he’s a bit of hot head, so I could see him starting fights with his S/O over nothing 

I think his S/O would feel like they were walking around on eggshells whenever they were around Marko and it would become to much eventually 

He can be so thoughtful and genuine with his S/O, but then in another moment be so cruel 

He gets bored easily, and will just stop hanging out with you mid relationship because he just not “inspired anymore”

I think he is the type of person to not care about who does the breaking up either 

If you want to break up with him? Fine. He doesn’t care, and to prove that point he will throw any belongings of yours that you left in cave, right into the ocean

If he sees you on the boardwalk, and you try to talk to him? He will pretend like he never met you before and introduce himself. 

Yep, he's that type of asshole 

He’s not afraid to break things off himself either

Except when he does it full of theatrical flare, and usually ends in blood 

Paul

I Think most of his break ups were do to him being a little bit of a player

It’s not his fault that when he sees a beautiful woman walking down the boardwalk he checks them out!

Or that when you two were at a party he lets some other randoms grind on him

The worst part is that he won’t take responsibility for it either 

He will just blame it on his “vampire instincts” 

He still acts like a teenager too, which is S/O finds infuriating 

He won’t wash unless reminded too, so he’s a little smelly and he tries to hide it with cheap cologne 

He never has any money and has to constantly asks for an allowance from David or money from his S/O

I think Paul has a new girlfriend every few days too

It’s to the point where whenever he introduces a new girlfriend to the boys they don’t even bother learning their name. 

And sometimes Paul won’t even bother introducing them in the first place because he know they don’t tend to last 

Of course he doesn’t believe he has anything to do with it. He just blames it on how “Santa Carla women are”

So all these thing together could force his S/O to break up with him 

I think it would happen on the boardwalk too

The two of you meet, and as your telling him your breaking up with him he checks out someone mid convo 

I think his S/O would just give up halfway through their “I’m breaking up with you” speech and just walk away 

Unfortunately, I don’t think Paul would really care 

I don’t think his relationships ever truly reach the serious stage

He prefers his relationships unclear and full of spontaneity 

He’s also very lazy, so he’s fine when someone breaks up with him so he doesn’t have to put the effort into doing it himself 

Dwayne 

he is a very private person, and rarely seeks out human companionship unless it is to secure his next meal 

But every once in a while he meets a human he moderately like more than most humans and decides to pursue them

When this happens he never introduces them to the boys and never brings them back to the cave 

In his mind their secret is far too valuable to risk it’s exposure 

Because of this his S/O can get frustrated that Dwayne doesn’t share at lot of his personal life with them 

So The relationship can feel very one sided 

Dwayne is also really bad with verbal communication and tends to lean on non verbal cues to get his point across 

I think Dwayne also has a “thing” about people breaking up with him so if he suspects that the relationship has run its course he will just end things first 

He also has this other “thing” where he can’t stand seeing someone he used to be in a relationship with be with another person….so usually when he breaks up with someone it also ends in a meal 

David 

Like we all know, David likes to be in control.

He’s the leader that calls the shots no questions asked

This would definitely be same when he is in a relationship

He chooses where they go, who they hang out with, and what they do in general

I think his S/O would be okay with this at first. They knew what they signed up for when they started dating him

And they would definitely believe that the positives in their relationship would outway the negatives.

Sure David won't let them go for a walk by themselves, but at least they're safe right?

And they can’t choose what they wear either, but that's just because David knows best.

But like most things the reality of who David is would probably be wayyyyy too much for most people. 

I think once David’s S/O removed their rose colored glasses and realized they wanted out

 It would be a  huge challenge to convince David of this fact

David’s S/O:  David, we need to talk.

*David fixing something on his chair* What did you say Sweetheart?

David’s S/O:  David I’m not happy I don't want to be with you anymore.

*David pretending to look around the cave for something* I don’t think I heard you right, love. What did you want again?

David’s S/O: David….

David: It’s okay love, you don’t need to talk. Why don’t you keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut and let's go for a ride with the boys. 

I think once his S/O managed to get him to acknowledge the fact that they wanted out of the relationship, one of two things would happen.

David would drain you himself, or give you to the boys to drain

or

David’s complex would not allow the thought he was being broken up with so, I could see him using his mind control powers to change your mind into staying with him

This wouldn't last long though. I can only imagine a person being mind controlled to be in love with you would get kind of old after a while. And David is kind of a jerk

So, I could see David mind wiping his S/O and leaving them somewhere to fend for themselves

[cloveroctobers]

santa, doesn’t know you like i do — 2. OBX [Winter Prompts: Multi]

A/N: Only episodes 1-6 exist to me! It’s the season of joy and that’s exactly what I’m attempting to bring with this! Happy reading!

WARNINGS: Language + gender neutral friendly! & Cleo’s is unfortunately the shortest.

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE! + I’m using: 014. sitting down to exchange and open gifts, anticipating what gift you may get. is it something cool or just another pair of socks? + 010. in the kitchen making the deserts for the big day, and perhaps even making a mess too! + 017. in the trenches of snow forts, amidst a war of a snow fight! who will win? & 019. traversing the treacherous conditions of icy pavements. will you laugh as they fall or lend them a hand and go down in solidarity?

<- read my previous winter anthology prompt here if you’re about it.

⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆

~ JJ MAYBANK ~

• I can make you fall too. So, tell me what's on your wishlist? I wanna make it come true 🎶

“…and this one is for…JJ.” Sarah reads off the personalized tag, picking up the last gift from the makeshift tree he managed to find at a sketchy tree farm.

Pope called it the ozempic tree and majority of the time, JJ spent his Christmas’ with Big John and John B (occasionally the Heyward’s too once they were up for JJ’s sparkling behavior) since it used to be his favorite holiday when they were kids. Now he was hosting Christmas’ on goat island, not to show off what he did with the place but simply because he could now.

“What?” JJ called over the music, standing by some huge stereo that he probably paid too much for.

He should have focused more on furniture like you tried to tell him but he didn’t care about that. All of the furniture in here was in good condition in his eyes—no matter the dust and the pieces he’s surfed on and broke—he would fix them in due time because he didnt need to get rid of what belonged to his blood family. He wanted to keep what was left, which stopped you from bringing up furniture talk.

This was JJ’s home and he deserved a good one for once.

Kie scoffed as she held onto her ukulele, “It’s for you idiot, open it!”

“And for the love of the most high, can we please play something else?!” Pope jumped up from the chair, almost knocking Cleo off the arm of it, making him quickly apologize, his hands going to her hips as he pressed rapid kisses to her cheek, before trading places with the boisterous blond.

JJ was tipsy, shades toppling out of his feathered hair, as he plucked the gift from Sarah’s hand then he plopped down by your legs on the floor to rest against the front of the couch. You were all proud of him, limiting his drinks to only special occasions, something JJ came up with all on his own.

It was the little things that still mattered.

He was a constant work in progress, take him as you will.

After the crap that was of last year, he wanted nothing more than to put that nightmare behind him. Time was still on his side and now JJ finally got to live it, day by day but with more warmth this time.

“I didn’t think I was on the secret santa list, since you know I’m the hostest with the mostest.” JJ winks at all the friends who groan at him.

You were all just glad he wasn’t wearing that crown on his head anymore from earlier, when he greeted you all at the front door in a terrible mix of a British or Australian accent.

Cleo shakes her head, “The holidays done made you soft, rude boy.”

“Sue me, Clee!”

“For money? I can just steal it ya know?” Cleo wiggles her fingers at her friend with a dimpled grin sent his way.

JJ quirks up a brow, “That’s not a battle I want to get into tonight. It’s all about,” he clears his throat, “Be of good cheer! It’s the most wonderful time of the year! It’s the hap-happiest time of the year!” He belts out.

“Make him stop, John B.” Sarah whines, covering her ears while John B sends a lazy smile at the friend that he was happy to call his brother.

All John B can come up with is, “Open up your gift already man, aren’t you curious?”

JJ flings one hand in the air with his cup of wine, yes red wine, this stuff was pretty good on a winter night, shout out to PawPaw Wes, but he stops short once he almost splashes some of it onto the carpet. When he looks over at you, who has their attention on their phone he nudged your knee with his elbow, “Be a peach and hold this for me, will ya?”

“Please?”

“Please, dollface?” JJ pushes his bottom lip out, leaving you to roll your eyes as you take the green plastic cup into one of your hands.

He goes to mumbling as he tears off the festive gift wrapping, “…It’s probably just some socks.”

“What’s wrong with socks?” Kie questions, “the fuzziest of socks are the best kind to keep your feet warm, skin soft-

“Blah, blah, blah.”

Kiara sucks her teeth, “okay, fuck you then.”

Which earns laughs from everyone as JJ reveals a box. He goes to shake it, noticing some tape keeping it together.

“Don’t shake it.” You say, making JJ’s blues turn to you, “It could be something fragile.”

The friends all shared a glance at this. The secret santa was Sarah’s idea and although they were under the influence, everyone seemed to be keeping track of who got who. John B got Kiara, Kiara got Sarah, Sarah got Pope, Pope got John B, JJ got Cleo, Cleo got you, and you guested it, you got JJ.

Everyone except JJ was keeping up.

“Alright, fine. You’re probably right,” JJ nods before turning back to the box while you visibly relaxed.

He’s using his teeth now to pull off some of the tape before yanking open the box. “Oh whoever did this, did a superb job. There’s even tissue paper! And it’s scented! Wait a minute…this smells a whole lot like…”

His eyes are in slits now and he wants to turn to you to confirm his suspicions but he’s also curious about what this gift is. Tossing the tissue paper any and everywhere, JJ pulls out this vintage toy bronco.

You exhaled, not sure what your friend’s reaction was as he sat beside you on the floor, “I know it’s not much but…you used to talk about owning one of these and how you used to have one kind of like this when you and JB were kids—

“Before my dad—Luke beat it up with a bat and chucked it into the garbage disposal. The damn thing spit back out and split his brow. Me letting a laugh slip out wasn’t my best move but he deserved that.” JJ told, making the room fill up with numerous amount of emotions at what a younger JJ would soon start to face on a regular.

You nod sitting on the edge of the couch now, “I got it personalized for you and everything: your favorite number on the hood, name on the side, and check out the license plate.”

JJ shifted the gray bronco to its back, letting a grin split over his lips, “PND-4L. That stand for what I think it does?”

“Uh huh.”

JJ drops his head, pinches at his brow and sniffs before lifting his head and letting out a deep sigh from his lips. He turns to you, eyes glistening in the dim of the Genrette home, “This is the best got damn gift I’ve ever received, bring it in you thoughtful thing you!”

Kiara quickly reaches out for the plastic cup, just as JJ doesn’t give you time to move afterwards, locking his arms around your waist and burying his head in your lap.

That was enough to make anyone’s heart swell, your hand going to his head as you lean to place a kiss right on top. “Glad you like it, J. Merry Christmas.”

“Like it? I love it! It’s going right on my bedside table.”

“And maybe it’ll be more motivation to actually get your own fucking car instead of stealing the Twinkie?” John B comments, rubbing at his eye.

JJ scoffs, “The Twinkie is a family car. This right here is part of the dream.” He holds the bronco up into the air before bringing it to his lips to kiss, “But I’m sure I’ve already got it.”

He mumbles that last bit as Pope puts on some r&b Christmas music instead, pulling Cleo up to dance while Kiara finishes off JJ’s wine before getting up to join the couple while strumming her ukulele and humming beautifully to the music, Sarah and John B share a tender kiss as they continue to lounge against each other, and you begin to comb your fingers through your friend’s hair.

“You’re probably the best gift giver here but sssh, don’t tell the others I said that.” JJ says, getting up to fully rest his head in your lap now.

He rests the car on his chest as you both go into your own hushed conversation, focus solely on each other as you continue to fall for each other, being the true definition of a slow burn.

| CLEO ANDERSON |

• He won't bring you somebody that loves you more than me, yeah 🎶

You’re yanked into the new and improved yet slightly messy wooden home as soon as Cleo set her brown eyes on you. You were careful as you tried to avoid a patch of flour and egg on the floor that was made into a smiley face before you then turned to an antsy Cleo. You could smell the sugar as soon as you stood on the steps of the old Maybank residence. Everything honestly felt unreal, something that you were all able to put together and work on as a family was back in your hands and a reality? It still didn’t feel real at times, being back at the home that was almost gone thanks to Luke’s snake ways and this place used to hold only darkness but the constant goal was to fill it only with light from now on.

Until your friends try to warn you otherwise before you entered the home.

“She’s worse than my military influenced uncle when it comes to the kitchen.” Pope mumbled to you, massaging the palm of his hand.

You frown as you held onto the ingredients in a reusable bag (that Kiara once gave you) that you were asked to bring on your back, “C’mon guys it can’t be that bad? We’ve been in the kitchen together before…had plenty of dinners together and Cleo’s always been fine.”

JJ scoffs as he plops down on the steps of his childhood home, “That’s just regular dinners y/n. The holidays makes people whackadoo!” He whistles a cuckoo tune before quickly glancing over his shoulder to make sure Cleo couldn’t hear him, “And Cleo is our own personal version of the bear when it comes to these desserts.”

Kiara snickers as she attempts to give JJ’s shoulder a comforting squeeze, “We were only allowed to focus on the dinner portion. The desserts are a whole new ball park and Cleo doesn’t want any of our help.”

“Only y/n’s.” John B grumbled, also appearing defeated.

You frown, sending a questioning glance to the brunette who’s leaning over the banister, glaring out at the view.

Sarah sighs, “John B got a nice scolding from Cleo…now there’s a delay with whatever last dessert she’s trying to make? Which is why—

“You guys needed me to bring the extras.” You confirm with a nod of your head before letting out a sigh, “Well I better not keep the lady waitin.”

John B scoffed, “She’ll hold off her venom a little when it comes to you.”

“I told you not to put the raisins in there, man.” JJ muttered with his elbows digging into his knees.

“Oh you think you have all the answers don’t you, Bobby Flay?” John B mouthed off, “When have you ever baked anything decent?”

JJ snorts as he squints looking away from the shifting sun,“I know raisins don’t belong in potato bread.”

“…well with some recipes in the Caribbean, does include raisins.” Pope spoke up with a light shrug of his shoulders.

John B holds his hands out to the brainiac in a see motion, “Thank you!”

JJ scowls, “Hey Pope, hey! Whose side are you on?”

As the boys bickered, Kiara and Sarah both rolled their eyes and snuck off around the wrap around porch just to get away from them, while you took the chance pushing the doors open to enter the revamped home. You can’t even blink before Cleo’s yanking at your wrist, pulling you into the (second) very open kitchen.

“Where’ve been? I want everything to be done by sundown and I’ve got to start this madness over because of freakin’ John b.” Cleo’s moving around the kitchen at lighting speed.

You nod, “I was just told…I also heard that you have other desserts too?”

“Yeah!” Cleo answers, “Guava Duff and pineapple upside down cake. It’s best to have tree options…especially with the way these fools eat.”

“So you want to remake the potato bread?”

Cleo placed her hands on her hips and deeply exhaled, “Yeah man, John B screwed it up mixing those turds into the batter! Not a fan! Coconut was just fine and you’re gonna love it.”

“I’ve actually developed an allergy out in Venezuela.” You admitted, “I’ll take your word for it though.”

Cleo frowns, “Huh? But the coconut lentil stew in Morocco? I thought—

“No don’t get me wrong, it was delicious and I didn’t want be too picky when we were all scrapping just to find a solid meal. I begged Sarah not to say anything when my eye swelled up later that night. Let’s just say…Kie and I had an adventourous time on the hunt for some inflammatories.”

“And you guys had rude boy to distract me,” Cleo fills in the blanks, “It all makes sense now.”

You offer a small smile but Cleo just shakes her head. She was too tired to realize then and think too much about what was going on. Cleo wouldn’t beat herself up too much about it but she wanted to make up for it.

“Could have told me ya know?” She takes the ingredients from the bag and starts putting them in the correct place but not without stopping to dump the contents in the bowls out into the trash again, “That’s cancelled.”

“What? No, the potato bread’s been the talk of the day…you should see it through.”

Cleo claps her hands, shushing you, followed with a wag of her finger, “No can do love…matter of fact, what’s your favorite dessert? I can make something with what we’ve got.”

There wasn’t a “maybe” in front of that statement at all. If Cleo had a plan, she was always going to see it through. Her brown eyes twinkled as they settled back on you, brow raised as she awaited for you to say anything that came to mind.

Once you revealed what your favorite dessert is, it only took the wavy haired girl a few moments to think if she had enough ingredients to whip it together for you.

“Well don’t just stand there, get over here and be my sous chef.” Cleo waved you over, “Make sure you scrub those hands in my kitchen.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You nodded and tossed in a joke, “wouldn’t want a repeat of JJ and Kie’s homemade corn dogs from the fourth.”

Both of you share a equal shudder as you stood shoulder to shoulder. Your eyes connected and Cleo sent you the sweetest smile, where both of her dimples easily appeared in her cheeks before she put her game face back on.

This was about to get hectic but you’d tolerate it because with chaos came love and you were certain that’s what this house would only be based on from this point on. Also if Cleo was going through all this trouble just for you?

Had to mean something…right?

| BARRY |

• I've been there through the good and bad, Know how to make you laugh, Kiss all your tears away, babe. Ooh, only I can do that 🎶

Snow in the Outerbanks wasn’t common but when it did, Barry liked to take advantage of it. He had the bright idea to start chucking snowballs at random people, specifically people coming out of their homes. He wanted to have a laugh whereas you wanted to build a snow fort.

He only went through with that because it would be your cover once your target tried to search the area for their culprit. The both of you were up to no good and it showed. The plan started off at the trailer, building forts on both sides of Barry’s land, which included Barry sneaking up and trying to stomp your fort out but not without a fight, before you shoved him back to his side.

“Anybody tell you your aim is trash, sunshine?!” Barry yells over his own fort, he’s been shit talking since the both of you started your first round at his place.

And frankly? You had enough so as soon as Barry lifted his head to look in your direction, you popped up with the swiftness and started windmilling two balls in his direction. The first ball hits Barry in the shoulder and the last? Clunks him right in the eye that had him doubling over.

“Bear?” You stopped celebrating as soon as you saw him holding his eye.

Barry huffed into the air, “Got damn! Did you hide a rock in there or sum?”

Cautiously you made your way over to the dark haired jack of all trades, wanting to be prepared that he wasn’t trying to sneak you as soon as you got close enough.

The way his eye had a nice pink ring around it was enough to tell you, he wasn’t joking.

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit is right, I didn’t know we was fightin’ dirty, dawg.” Barry tried to peek at you through the injured eye.

Giving a grimace you admit, “That ball did seem kind of hard.”

Barry snorts, “And here I thought you liked my ass but you really tryna to take my shit out, havin’ me walking around this bitch like popeye.”

“I’m sorry,” you tried to grip his face and hide the laughter that bubbled in your chest but Barry dodged your hands, “You know I’d never purposely hurt you.”

Barry scoffed but still said, “I know I know but now I got to take my frustrations out with my original plan.” He rubs his hands together, “Yeah…let’s take a ride out to figure eight.”

Suddenly now that didn’t seem like the best idea.

“Nah, stop them gears.” Barry pointed at you, which made you roll your eyes, “You owe me this.”

“Fine…but no snowballs that have undercover ice in them.”

Barry sent you a look, “Oh now you want to check for that shit for the sake of them uppity kooks instead of for the safety of your man? You know that shit don’t sound right to me.”

“I said I was sorry!”

Barry just hums.

Which leads to you two heading out to Rafe Cameron’s new residence. The both of you snuck around the back, thinking it would be easier to attack from.

“Look at country club, done leveled up.” Barry snickers to himself after he dusted off his hands from building yet another fort for the both of you to hide behind.

You shrug, finding that all these beach homes looked the same, “How do we even know he’s home?”

“He’s home alright, probably up in there stressin’ over stupid shit when he’s got it made.” Barry comments.

You’ve seen their relationship play out, the good and the bad—mostly the bad and still found it interesting that the both of them chose to pop back into their lives whenever they felt like it.

Barry’s got the binoculars spying on the home, while you got tired of standing around for what felt like forever. Choosing to pick at your nails and sit on your knees until they started to lose feeling in them. Just as you’re about to announce that you’re ready to go back home, Barry yanks on your wrist to get you back into a squatting position.

“There he go!” Barry whisper-yells to you, as you peek over the lopsided fort to indeed see Rafe on his back deck, staring out at the view towards his right.

Barry’s got a wicked dimple of a smirk on his face, hands skillfully rolling a ball together before he pops up, “Merry Christmas, Abercrombie!”

He should have been a baseball player with the way he cocked his arm back, putting in extra strength to launch the ball into the air and landed it right in between Rafe’s furrowing brows.

Barry is a laughing mess while you watch Rafe swipe the show from his irritated face. His head snaps towards you two, hand going to his forehead to block out the specs of sun that shines through the gray clouds. Your eyes go wide at being caught, your hand grabbing Barry by the elbow, to set off into a run after you spot Rafe moving around his deck to head down towards you two.

“Ain’t nobody scared of, Rafe. Baby, slow down—

Barry tried to say just as you slipped on a patch of ice. Your feet go right up into the air, fingertips slipping from Barry’s puffer jacket, eyes closing as you wait for impact.

It happened in slow motion for you but quickly for Barry. He can’t help but to laugh at your cartoon ass fall, before he hears Rafe yelling from behind. Barry scrambles forward, hands attempting to grab you up by the pits but ends up slipping over your body, head first into a bank of snow that was pushed up on the sidewalk.

A mocking laughter from Rafe echoes into the sky from behind the both of you while you feel like you’re stuck in place.

“I dunno what you laughing at, country club! Ain’t shit funny!” Barry roars, after lifting his head from the snow, middle finger raised right in the air.

Rafe is snapping pictures now but keeps his distance, “That’s what y’all idiots get! Trying to fuck with me.”

“Ever heard of salt?” Barry sits up with his elbows pressing into his knees.

“Nah, now I’m definitely not paying anyone to do that around here if it keeps you two off my property.” Rafe says before motioning to Barry’s damp appearance, “You got a little something all over.”

“Yeah you talkin’ real tough.”

Barry stops his bickering with Rafe after he picks up on some sniffing. His head snaps to you, “Hey…” he starts moving over to you.

He’s trying to help you up but a scream, makes both twenty something year old’s stare at you in alarm.

⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎

Barry ended up kissing your tears away the whole trip to urgent care. It helped some but the muscle relaxers, and some weed really did their thing. The both of you are seated on Barry’s couch, he’s got an ice pack pressed right against the ring around his eye (given by you) that officially bruised up, and he cradled a beer bottle while the both of you sat in silence watching some sitcom on a old tv set that belonged to his nonna.

You’re now sporting a neck brace, thanks to a sprain and suddenly catch each other’s side eye, before erupting in laughter together.

“Told you you’ll never get bored with me, huh, sunshine?” Barry winks at you, gold grills gleaming at you while you hold onto the brace, to subside the slight ache while you laughed.

Barry rests his head back against the length of the couch, letting this position hold the ice pack for him now, before sliding his hand over to squeeze your thigh, with your hand resting right on top of his.

⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆