#there aren’t supposed to be random waves still

[thedixielanddelight]

Finding out we may have been just miles apart after a decade is a gut punch I wasn’t expecting today.

[hoe4sports]

Harm

Leah Williamson x reader ft Sam Kerr

A/n: Been battling this huge writes block for a month now. If you have any tips on out to get rid of it, send help. You need to use your imagination on this bby

Warning: Angry Sam

Summary: You and your ex-wife struggle co-parenting

-

You look at your watch.

18.53.

It’s now 1 long hour and 53 whole minutes since your ex wife, Sam, was supposed to come pick up your daughter for the weekend.

You don’t really know why you thought it would be different this time, it’s always been like this. From the moment you found her tangled up in her best-friends arms at your home, she’s been someone else. Someone you don’t recognise.

It’s none of your business anymore. You know that she parties and drinks, probably more than what’s healthy. And you know that it’s always a new girl. It’s always the same type of girl too, partygirls.

It’s the same never ending cycle. She gets a girlfriend, then she cheats on her with some random girl that she eventually ends up dating before the cycle repeats itself.

A part of you wants to take your daughter away from her. To never let her see her again. You’re her mom, you are supposed to protect her from harm. But, what do you do when the harm is her own ma?

“Still not heard from her?” Leah hums, her voice coming from behind your back.

You sigh at her while closing the blinds again, letting the last bit of hope disappear. The tears are now pressing in your eyes. You feel defeated. Leah immediately wraps you in her arms.

“Shh, it’s okay, we’ll sort this out” she reassures you. You nod while sniffing into her shirt, standing it with tears.

Your daughter coos from her little bouncer, kicking her feet with excitement. Her toothless grin spreading on her face. You can’t help it, but to turn your head to look at her. She brings a smile to your face. Her similarities to Sam aren’t there anymore. She’s growing into her own person. She has copied down Leah’s smile, just like babies does. Your hair, and your eyes. Not a single piece of Sam left in her. It eases your heart, it makes you feel less sad about your cheating ex-wife.

She cheated when you were just 1 week into your first attempt at getting pregnant. You didn’t leave at first, you did everything you could to salvage it. There wasn’t a single solution that you hadn’t tried. But she didn’t even try. The reality of the situation was that it fell through your hands like sand.

You don’t really understand why it happened. Why she chose her newfound best-friend over her wife and her daughter. It’s something you was forced come to terms with, but that you will never find in your heart to understand or forgive. Perhaps, it’s more that you have accepted the situation without being able to fully grasp the aspects of it.

Leah pulls away from the hug after giving you a kiss on the head. She moves towards your daughter, Ella, and scoops her up in her arms. Ella lets out a big yawn when she feels the comfort of Leah’s arms, settling in comfortably.

“I think that someone is up way beyond her bedtime, isn’t she?” She coos at the little baby in her arms. The sight of them makes your gaze soften, and your body relax. You can’t help it, but smile. They share something special, you just know it. Their bond is unique.

“Should we go upstairs to go night-night, huh Ellabear?” Leah asks as she leans down to kiss your daughter‘s forehead.

“Would you mind putting her down, baby? I think I need a minute..” you excuse to Leah, offering a sad smile.

You know that she’s more than happy to put her down. In fact, she’s been more than happy to put her down since even before she was born. Always excited for all the milestones you reached. Always there, always present.

Leah nods at you before taking Ella’s little hand to wave at you, you smile sadly back at them before they disappear up the staircase of your home.

You look at your watch again. 19.06. It’s been over two hours. That’s where you decide that she has missed her shot for the weekend. You move to the kitchen to find your backpack with your pencils. You reach for your notes before writing down the details around the yet again, missed agreement.

The divorce was messy. Sam wanted the baby. You refused. She pushed for visitation, and time with her daughter in court. You refused. But, Sam somehow ended up winning the case. Of course she did. She hired the best lawyers money could buy. It made your blood boil. Your lawyer recommended that you would write down every time she didn’t pick up Ella, and the details around missed visits.

Leah’s footsteps were soon to be heard coming down the staircase. Her hands eventually placed on your shoulders, lightly providing you with a gentle massage.

“How are you feeling, darling?” Leah’s voice hums. Her soft tone makes your body relax towards her frame.

“I’m just, hm, I think I feel disappointed for Ella. I know she won’t remember this, but the guilt is eating me alive.”

Leah wraps her arms around your waist before turning you to face her. Your eyes meets her, and you share a moment of silence while embracing each other.

“Ella is safe, she’s fed, she’s warm, she’s dry and she has a mommy and a Leah that loves her so much” Leah whispers in your ear.

The statement makes you feel safe, like you are the luckiest girl in the world to have Leah to lean on. To have someone step up to the responsibility when Sam failed. Leah didn’t have to, she had absolutely no obligations. But she still stayed.

“She has a mommy and a mama” you mumble into her arms, “you and me”.

Leah hums in response before your hands intertwine. Your heartbeat slows down, and your breathing softens. It feels safe. It’s feels warm. It’s like your mind unconsciously knows that you and Leah are building the foundation of a future marriage.

Her sincerity and warmth has you drawn to her. How she’s fair, how she never lets anyone get away with anything and how she is protective of what’s hers. You know that she will defend you to the end of the world, even if that means defending you when you are wrong. It’s one of her core values, to never embarrass you infront of others by arguing or correcting you.

Then, there is a knock on the door. The moment fades, and the memory is ruined by the continuous hammering on your door. Your heartbeat fastens again, and your breathing feels quicker and shallow.

You look over at Leah, and see that her fists are turning white. It’s only fair. You would feel that way too if you had something to outpower Sam. But you don’t. She’s taller, stronger, faster and more assertive than what you are.

The banging doesn’t stop, and soon enough you hear Ella’s scared cries in her bedroom through the baby-call hanging around Leah’s neck.

Leah looks at you and urges her head towards the door.

Normally you handle moments like this. But you are just so tired of it. Of Sam showing up drunk or hangover, demanding her daughter to be brought to her. It always scares you. Sometimes, you have nightmares about it. That someday, she’ll drive over drunk and get away with your baby. The kind of nightmares that only can be calmed by seeing that Ella is safe and having Leah holding you while softly stroking your back.

Leah looks at you again while nodding towards the door. The banging is still loud. This time, you can hear Sam’s voice through the door.

“For fucks same, give me my daughter. It’s my weekend! I know that you are awake”

You shake your head violently before tears swell in your eyes. You cannot find it in you to deal with Sam tonight.

“Go” Leah whispers while pointing upstairs. Your eyes widen.

“But what if she hurt-“

“I’m stronger and taller, I’m gonna be fine. Go calm Ella down, and I’ll be there soon, okay?” Leah urges moving towards the door.

You nod rapidly before going for a beeline up the stairs. You hear the door open up as you move upwards.

“Leah? Get me my kid will you” Sam commands.

Leah crosses her arms while looking firmly into her eyes.

“No, it’s past bedtime. She’s sleeping, or was before you scared her”.

“Nah, listen mate, this doesn’t involve you” Sam laughs before pushing towards the door.

Leah pushes Sam away from the entrance before grabbing the handle.

“I pay for the diapers, the clothes, the food. I put her to bed, I wake up with her at night and I wake up with her in the morning. I give her kisses and hugs, and I give her baths. What do you do?”

Sam looks at Leah with a gaze in shock.

“I, uh, I.. This is ridiculous, can I come and get her? It’ll be quick”

Leah grabs the door handle, and closes the door. But before she completely closes it, she looks Sam straight in her eyes.

“No, I suggest you leave before I call the police on trespassing.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sukuna comforting you after a breakup

Pairing: Sukuna x reader

Word Count: 627

Notes: I don't know who needs to read this but somehow I needed to write it inspired by that edit I saw on Instagram a few days ago

Imagine Sukuna laying his eyes on your puny figure sitting on the completely destroyed sidewalk while you cry your heart out in the middle of Shibuya.

“Why the hell are you sitting there crying like a baby?”

“Leave me alone”, you mutter into your hands.

He furrows his eyebrows, body drawing closer to you. Did those words really leave your mouth? Nobody ever dares to talk to him like that. Especially not when you're all alone out here with Gojo being sealed.

“Don’t you know who I am, stupid girl?”

“I don’t give a damn about who you are. Just leave”, you bark at him.

Why? Why on earth did it end like this? You really thought you could make it, that your relationship can be saved if you put the work in it, that you’ll be able to change yourself. But then this call came in, only minutes before you arrived in Shibuya.

“It’s over, (y/n).”

It’s over. How is it supposed to be over when it didn’t even start yet? How is it supposed to be over when your heart still aches for the tender touch of your love, for the smile that haunts you in your dreams, for this one person alone? A new wave of tears swells up your puffy eyes and takes your sight, body still numb in agony. This can’t be true. It shouldn’t have ended like this.

Your heart sinks through your shaky fingertips onto the floor, bleeds out when reality hits you like a wall.

But it definitely is over.

“You’re lucky I’m having a good day.”

His voice is suddenly next to you, forces your eyes to dart up. This is Yuji. No…Just one look into his blank eyes is enough for you to realize that Sukuna himself is sitting next to you, nipping on a coke as if he isn’t the king of curses.

You should be scared. Fuck, you should scream in horror and try to run away. But instead, you just stare at him blankly. Does it even matter what happens to you anymore?

“What is it?”

“What is what?”, you try to avoid his question.

Oh god, as if it isn’t bad enough that you’re sitting here like an idiot while crying your heart out.

“What is all of this about?”

You swallow hard. There is no way out of this, no chance to escape the piercing gaze of his. You will have to tell him the truth.

“I’ve got dumped today”, you mutter.

“Dumped”, he repeats dryly.

“Dumped.”

“And that’s what you’re crying about? Some random guy?”

“It wasn’t just a random guy”, you bite back in a desperate attempt to defend yourself.

No, more like the one you imagined your future with, the one you wanted to adopt a dog or cat with, the one who was supposed to stay. But now all of this is gone in the wind. Your past, your present, your future. Everything went black.

“You know what makes me so damn strong?”

What? You blink away your tears, confusion written on your face. What on earth is he talking about?

“Because you killed countless people, are older than dinosaurs…-“

“Because I never let a love story distract me from my own strength.”

“What are you talking about?”, you huff in response, shaking your head in sheer disbelief.

What is that supposed to mean? You’re not Ryomen Sukuna, you aren’t a special grade sorcerer, you are…A no one, not even able to keep your relationship up. Fuck, you should have worked on yourself like you've promised over and over, shouldn't have started fights over things that wouldn't have changed anyway. You...You are the problem.

“Shouldn’t you be strong on your own as well?”

You have to blink a few times, mind trying to process the meaning of his words. Sukuna throws away the empty cup of coke and gets up, casually straightening his clothes before yanking your chin upwards, forcing you to stare straight into his red eyes.

“You don’t need anyone. Now get your puny self up and stop giving other people that power over you. If I see you crying over that relationship again, I’ll kill you right on the spot. Got it?”

Your heart flutters uncontrollably in your chest, hands shaking by the sheer force of his words. Why does he have to be so damn right? Why…why do you suddenly feel better?

“Got it”, you breathe out, clenching your trembling fingers into a tight fist.

Yeah, you got it.

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[nicksbestie]

Nooks And Crannies - M. Sturniolo

a series

part five (read part four here)

Summary : You always seem to be somewhere in the bookstore Matt works at, never buying anything, just reading, and while Matt is technically not supposed to talk to customers for so long while he's on the clock, he can't help himself.

Warnings : none!

Word Count : 1038

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : i didn't forget about this little project, don't worry!!

You stared at the bookmark, and the number scribbled onto it, pushing down the anxiety and deciding to send a message.

hi! is this matt?

You didn’t have to wait long for a response, the almost immediate ping of your phone catching you by surprise, indicating a reply.

(XXX)-XXX-XXXX : yes! i assume this is ____?

You quickly saved his contact, simply saved as “matt :)”.

“yes! how are you?” 

The conversation only blossomed from there. You were glad that you lived alone now, because had you still been living at home, your family would have teased you about just how much you were smiling at your phone. You texted Matt nearly nonstop, and you had been enjoying every moment of it. It was just like your normal conversations at The Ivy, sharing book thoughts, or snippets of your day, or even funny jokes. You had received a ton of silly pictures from Matt’s brothers, as they had a habit of stealing his phone and sending random selfies. You found it funny, Matt found it annoying, but either way, you always had something to talk about. Conversation with him was never dry, which you had been slightly afraid of when you had texted him for the first time, and he always replied as quickly as possible, unless he was at work. 

When you weren’t talking, you couldn’t deny the fact that you missed speaking to him. It was really nice to have someone who actually wanted and enjoyed talking to you. It was another couple of days before you could actually take any time off to leave your apartment, and of course, the first place that you went when you left that afternoon was The Ivy. It had been pouring rain, but you couldn’t stand being inside your room for one more minute. So, you pulled on a raincoat, grabbed the umbrella by your door, and began the short walk downtown. Since it was warm out, and the sun was peeking through some clouds, the walk wasn’t miserable, and you actually quite enjoyed it. You had always loved the rain, and since you had an umbrella to keep you dry, you didn’t mind being out walking in it. 

It wasn’t long before you pushed open the door to The Ivy, shaking your umbrella out beforehand. You wrapped it up, putting it into your bag, and moving to a shelf that had some colorful book covers, as they had caught your eye the second you walked in. You noticed that a lot of them were new shipments, having just been placed on the shelves, and you were so excited to pick up a couple of them and pore over the pages. You read the backs of a few of them, and they seemed intriguing, so you held them in your arms as you made your way over to the cafe to get a cup of coffee. Besides, you deserved it after your insanely busy previous couple of days. However, when you got over to the counter, there was already a cup with your name scribbled on it, with it being your usual. 

You went and picked it up, smiling when you noticed Matt waving at you, sitting at one of the tables with his own cup. “Was this you?” You asked, motioning to the cup. He smiled at you, nodding. “I saw you walk in, figured I’d order your usual for you since I was grabbing my own coffee anyways.” You smiled, taking a drink from it, enjoying the way you automatically felt relaxed. “Well, aren’t you sweet.” He grinned, a smirk on his face. “I try.” You read the back of the book that he was reading, nodding in slight interest, and it was at this point that you noticed the name tag being on his shirt.

“Wait, are you working right now?” 

He shook his head, turning a page.

“Nope. I’m on my break, but I took it so late that I actually get off only fifteen minutes after I go back on shift.”

You sat with Matt for the rest of his break, chatting about random things, mostly books and coffee, but also how both of your mornings had gone prior to being at The Ivy. Matt had worked a short mid-day shift, so he hadn’t been there all morning, which he was grateful for. He had picked up a coworker’s shift since they had been searching for coverage due to a family emergency, and he was heading right back home as soon as he got off. You found a good book to read when Matt had to clock back in, and you dove right into it. You were enjoying the gentle atmosphere, and the time flew. You were a fast reader, so you got through a good chunk of the book before Matt got off the clock and found you still at the coffee table, coming over to say goodbye before he left The Ivy. 

“So, where are you heading after you leave here?” 

You softly laughed, shrugging.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. The rain has gotten a lot worse, and I was going to go walk around shops, but I’m not sure I want to go back out into that. I may just stay here for a while until it lets up, but I’m glad I got to see you! Even if it was within your working hours.”

He smiled, removing the name tag off of his shirt.

“Yeah! One of these days, we’ve got to hang out outside of this shop. I do have a personality other than work.” 

“Oh, I’m sure that you do. You’ll have to show me it eventually.” 

Matt looked like he was pondering an idea, so you quietly waited for a response.

“Why don’t you come home with me?” 

You were slightly taken aback, and nervously laughed.

“Damn, you have to ask me out first!” 

Matt smiled, shaking his head.

“Not like that. Just for dinner. You can meet my brothers, we can spend time together outside of where I work, a nice get to know you more night. If you’re not interested, I totally understand!” 

You smiled at him, walking towards the door with him.

“I would love to.”

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[zer0wzs]

𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙣 ("𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮!")

[ gn!reader ] it's your birthday and your boyfriend is unfortunately not physically present. however, some other people have plans. jason todd x reader [ also heavy reader & batfam i guess ] wc: 2018 cws: n/a!

an: was supposed to post this on my birthday almost two weeks ago but i couldn't finish it on time because of a lot of stuff LOL

As you sip on your coffee, you finally take a look at your messages. 

It’s empty for the most part—save for a few birthday greetings from friends and a few messages from scammers about how you won a car (jokes on them; you don’t even have a license!). There’s one message that catches your eye immediately, though.

j 🫀 | 00:00 happy birthday baby 💖💘🫶🫶 really sad that i still wont be home for a couple more days i’m gonna make it up to you every way possible i’m all yours when i get back 💘

You find yourself smiling at his messages—of course because of the content of the text itself, but also for a lot of other things, from how he greeted you at the exact moment of your birthday to how he’s picked up some of your texting mannerisms to his very limited amount of number of messages compared to yours.

You | 09:03 awwwwsshwhJSJFHG 💖💖💖 i love you so much jay!!! imysm pls love come backk… 😞😞😞  ur team better use their time with u wisely u quite literally wont escape me once you step foot back in our apartment

Not giving much more thought to your reply, you continue on with your work, thinking on the side what you’ll do after. Your friends aren’t coming over; they’ve been assigned to meet on Saturday so that you have the whole day to yourselves. Still, you feel like treating yourself a little.

Curing this thought, you find that after work, you gravitate towards the hominess of your favorite thrift store. The owner is an older man who keeps the place the same as it has been since its establishment years ago.

The selection is far from filtered, a completely random selection for the most part, but it adds to the charm. However, his daughters usually help out, and you get to chat with them. They’ve known you as a regular now.

You slip a pair of headphones on and get to work, sifting through a few racks of clothes, shelves of trinkets, and stacks of records. Your jacket, or rather a coat, is wrapped around your waist to make your awfully formal self stand out less in the sea of people in the cozy shop.

You pick up some things mostly for yourself, but a few also with Jason in mind. No reason in particular, but if he asks, it's a welcome-back gift. You found a vinyl pressing of Comalies by Lacuna Coil—something you vaguely remember that he’s been looking for a while now.

Speaking of him, you mindlessly open your phone, hoping to see a message from him.

Nothing. Oh, well.

The walk is only a few blocks away, but your arms are slightly worn from the sifting through the aisles of items. You’re sure you’ll make it, though, even if the bags full of finds weigh a little heavy in your hands. Once you make it to your floor, you can just feel the exhaustion radiating from your arms. You could use a nap right now,

“YN!” You see Steph jump the moment you turn the lights on.

The whole apartment is decorated, decked in classic birthday decor—like balloons and banners. You note a few heads rising from the place they previously were from.

You know, coffee’s good, too. It’s only 6 PM.

As you eye around the room, the picture becomes clear: there are quite a few members of Jason’s family here—notably Dick, Steph, Cass, Tim, Duke, and Damian.

They all look at each other, uneasy. A moment later, a garbled chorus of birthday greetings is shouted. 

“Thank you. I’m flattered.” You mumbled, setting your bag of thrifted goods down as you closed the door. “How did you all get here, though-”

“Good question.” Steph nervously laughed, leaping to your side and hooking an arm around you. At this point, the rest of the family wave their hellos before finalizing a few pieces of decoration. “Come on! We made dinner—or, well, Alfred did.”

“Oh, is he here? Where is he?” You said, your lips turning to a smile. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, you recalled.

“Sorry, he’s at the mansion, busy tending to the old man.” Steph sighed, noticing your excitement.

“Ah,” you nod, still very up in your head. You’re overwhelmed, frankly, but still grateful as ever. To be honest, you’re not the best at receiving surprises like this. “Thank you, though. I’m just a little, well, surprised.”

“Of course,” Dick hummed, quickly joining the conversation between the two of you. “We knew Jason couldn’t make it, and we really wanted you to enjoy your birthday somehow. You’ve done a lot for him and for us as well.”

“Oh, thank you, but it isn’t a huge—”

You’re not even in your kitchen when Damian appears in front of you with a stoic look on his face. If this whole thing was set when you first met Jason, you would’ve thought that he did not want to be here and did not like you at all.

Rest assured, though, his siblings say otherwise. They enjoy teasing him and telling you that he searches for your company from time to time. One time, Dick said he was near deadset on inviting you to Gotham Zoo, seeing how they had your favorite animal sheltered there recently.

“Do you need any assistance with those bags?” He looked at you, eyes flicking down to the plastic bags in your hands.

You shake your head, making strides towards the hallway. “Um, no, thank you. I’m just going to carry these to my bedroom-”

Immediately, he steps in and grabs them. “You shouldn’t exert yourself any further. It’s your birthday, after all. I’ll be taking these.”

Oh. Okay. You stand there a little dumbfounded but nodding. It’s not like you can’t stop him either; he’s already making his way to your room.

Your phone buzzes. You open to see it. It’s from Jason. You sigh, knowing he won’t be able to make it.

j 🫀 | 18:24 i’ll be back really soon don’t you worry 💖

Attached to his message is a video. While the others are distracted, you lower your phone’s volume to watch it. You can just feel the embarrassment on his face as he records a video of himself singing Happy Birthday to you behind some dingy place.

How the hell did he even send it from there? Oh, the wonders of reception, you supposed.

You quickly type out a response for him, rocking from the balls of your heels to your toes with your lips only spread out. You couldn’t wait for “a few more days” or something. You also tell him how his family threw a last-minute birthday party and how you can’t be any happier (It just really isn’t visible with the exhaustion weighing heavy on your shoulders.).

“Is everything all right now?” You hear Dick ask Duke, Cass, and Tim from behind you. You turn around to see them giving him an affirmative yes.

“All right then,” he grins. Steph is pulling a cake from your fridge, and it's only now that you realize that your countertop is filled with your favorite cuisines by Alfred. You worry about the amount of time this took up on top of the rest of the tasks he has to tend to.

They all sing a happy birthday to you, a mixture of liveliness and yet also idleness, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything nonetheless. Sure, your brain might be more than overloaded at this point, but you’re just thankful that they made the collective effort to celebrate your birthday.

It makes you feel a little bad because of all of the trouble you’re more than certain had arisen because of this, but you push that thought back. They don’t need to hear that.

All six of them are standing in front of you, and it only denies your fears of being alienated and inconsequential to the greats who are the family before you. You’re not sure why or how they accepted you wholeheartedly, but God, do you not just take the love that they give?

Your phone rings, and you look to see who it is. You pick up—it’s Jason.

You notice how Steph wants to go back to you once more, but you mumble an apology to her, telling her that your boyfriend was calling. She nodded and headed over to Duke to, what you can assume, is chit-chat.

“Hello! Good evening, Jay-love,” you hum.

Your viewpoints to Dick, who looks at you curiously. Your voice is far from loud, and you do not want to disrupt anything, so you mouth Jason’s name to him before he nods and continues talking to Tim, Cass joining in.

“Hey, baby, happy birthday,” a few words follow, but you can’t hear much because of the chattering around you.

“Ah, thank you. I miss you,” you chuckled. “Could you come again, though? I can’t hear well.”

You hear a chuckle from the other end. “No, it’s fine. I was just saying that I really wish I was there right now.”

“Oh, yeah,” you reply half-mindedly, looking over the group. “Your family’s really sweet. I feel cared for.”

“You are. How could someone not like ya’?”

“Thanks.” You giggle in reply. You play with the ends of your shirt while talking to him, finding yourself leaning against a wall. Breaking the conversation from the sudden end, you spoke up. “So, when again are you coming back?”

“Real soon. Promise.”

“Would it kill you to be a little bit specific? I’m asking you a-” You stand there, giggling, but the banter stops among the family when two hands cover your field of vision completely.

“Guess who.”

Immediately, you know. From his voice to the callouses on his fingertips to the warmth radiating behind you.

“You’re too old to be saying that.” You spit back, not thinking twice about what you were saying.

You hear a dramatic, exaggerated scoff from behind you as his hands pull themselves away. You turn back but do note how everyone’s eyes are fixed on you and the man behind. Only whispers could be heard—you feel your ears redden.

Despite this, have you ever had the ability to contain yourself around him? You dive straight into him and pull him tight. For the first time in a really long while, he’s here. He’s here, he’s real, and you’re not wasting a single second of it.

“Missed you too.” He mumbles on top of your head. He shifts you two so that his back is faced towards his family. “I’m really sorry that it took so long-”

“Tsk,” you put a finger to his lips, taking a step back with his hands finding their way down your waist. “Uh-uh, it’s my birthday, and I want none of that.”

“Okay, okay,” he sighed, a hand climbing up your spine and finding itself on your cheek as the thumb caressed the edges and crevices of you.

“Thank you.” You put a hand on top of his.

“Of course, birthday love.”

On your tiptoes, you give him a peck on the cheek after he redirects you to his lips, discontented with the first kiss from when he came back being so brief. It only lasts a few seconds, but you know you’re gonna get more later.

You feel a tenderness pool inside of you. There’s something about the way he gazes at you—so full of love, so full of admiration you can’t help but give back—that makes you forget that you’re just feet away from his family.

“About the party,” he cleared his throat, hand finding your lower back as you rejoin the rest of the group. “I was the one who orchestrated it.”

You hear a loud gasp from Tim. “Um, no? I was the one who had the idea.”

“I was actually the one who helped spark that idea?” Steph joined. “I think I deserve at least some credit here.

You find yourself standing in a room, never feeling more loved than now.

[ghostgirl-22]

Your new fic about art is making me think about brat dom art squeezing patricks throat to get what he wants

Ay! My darling<3

—-

It goes something like…

When Patrick’s back to acting like a brat, flirting with other boys during Art’s Burberry photoshoot in London. Thinking Art can’t (won’t) do anything about it because his persona is supposed to be professional, calm, collected and so well rehearsed in public. But when Patrick makes a show of sneaking off to the bathroom to fuck another male model, Art just loses all decorum. He follows them to the bathroom, yanks Patrick by the arm and pushes him up against the door of the nearest stall just after it slams shut behind them.

“Hi,” Art says gently, but it feels dangerous.

“Did I break you?” Patrick asks, trying to play it off like he doesn’t care but his brain is already short circuiting because of the way Art manhandled him.

Art smiles and cups his fingers around Patrick’s throat. Gentle, but firm. Patrick swallows, his heart suddenly racing. Art must be able to feel it going crazy against his fingertips.

“I thought we agreed you were gonna stop fucking random people.” Art says softly, his lips so close to Patrick’s that Patrick can’t help sticking out his tongue eager for just a taste.

“I was just… I wasn’t really gonna do anything.” Patrick says, letting out a breath as he gets one lick before Art presses him harder up against the wall.

“I know you aren’t,” Art sighs, resting the side of his head against the stall and pressing his lips to Patrick’s cheek, hand still on Patrick’s throat he squeezes just a little tighter. “I know you’re impatient.” He says in Patrick’s ear. “I know you’re doing all of this because you want to fuck me. God. It must be so fucking embarrassing that you can’t fucking control yourself but that’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” He moves to look at Patrick head on again, pretty blue eyes darting back and forth.

“Mm, I just… ‘m sorry,” Patrick says carefully, his heads all scrambled. “I just— you’re wearing all that make up and clothing and stuff and you look so pretty I need to—”

“You don’t need to do anything, Patrick.” Art interrupts. “You just really, really want to.” There’s that same gentle tone with the dangerous edge.

“Yeah,” Patrick says, his mouth feels so wet he has to swallow to keep from drooling. “Fuck it, you’re right. I just want to fuck you in your pretty clothes, can I please?”

“Look at you…using your words,” Art smirks. To Patricks surprise Art kisses him, lets Patrick settle on the toilet seat and fuck him. It’s especially delicious because he’s still wet from what they did in the backseat of the car at lunchtime. Art’s fingers find their way back to Patrick’s throat, while he’s riding, while they’re kissing. Art’s squeezing a little tighter and a little tighter and just a little bit tighter till Patrick’s light headed and dizzy and Art’s moaning and coming, spurts of it getting all over Patrick’s t-shirt and face and chin. And while Art’s losing it he just grips Patrick even tighter.

Patrick nearly passes out with one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever experienced in his life. He wants to scream but he can barely make a sound, his heart’s pounding in his ears. His body is thrumming all over with wave after wave of pleasure and he can’t breathe. Art just kisses him, doesn’t even let up. Patrick tastes Arts soft lips and feels the edges of his vision start to go black. He just knows he’s gonna black out or just die and if this is how he dies it’s so fucking worth it and that’s when Art finally lets go.

Patrick gasps for air, coughing at the same time. “Fuck,” he says when he can finally formulate a sentence. He’s still feeling the aftershocks of it all. Probably spilled more inside Art than he ever has in anyone.

“Oopsie I didn’t squeeze too tight did I?” Art asks with mock innocence.

Patrick smiles, breathless. “You’re so fucking good at that.”

Art smiles back at him and gets up, letting Patrick slide out. “Can you behave now?”

“Mmhm,” Patrick nods, but he can’t help but ease his fingers inside just a second to feel the mess he’s made in him before Art can get his briefs and fancy expensive pants back on.

“Don’t touch,” Art says smacking his fingers away. Patrick smirks and bites down on the one finger he managed to get inside.

”You like the make up right?” Art asks, when he’s half dressed and zipping up his pants.

“Oh god yes,” Patrick says idly brushing his fingers along his spent cock.

“Good, once you clean up lets see if they can cover those marks on your neck so we can meet Tashi for drinks like normal people after this.”

Patrick laughs. “Yeah. Right. Like normal people.”

—

I’m not all that confident with writing the D/s elements but I did my (unproofread) best lol. Thanks for your idea nonnie!

[sociopathicartist]

“vanilla?”

“No.”

“lavender?”

“No!”

“i give up.” Sans tossed his hands up in defeat, falling back onto the couch to sink into.

You rolled your eyes, lighting up a tea light candle you had and setting it on the coffee table. “You only guessed two times. It’s coconut.”

“how the hell was i supposed to guess coconut? we aren’t in hawaii, babe.” He complained, unamused by the scent of your candles.

There had been a power outage about an hour ago due to the storms outside. While you weren’t scared of the storms you did happen to be a bit scared of your entire house being pitch black, so you turned on the flashlight to your phone and started setting out tea light candles everywhere in your house. You saved them up since power outages happened a lot during the stormy summer weather.

As you had been lighting up the kitchen, your boyfriend suddenly appeared. You freaked out and almost whacked him across the skull with the lighter, which he backed up and tried to ease your freak out with a simple ‘ let’s not get things too heated, babe. ‘

Naturally, he was very amused by how you had managed to light up almost every main area in your house with little candles. He kept wandering around your house to see all the lights and would blow one or two out to annoy you, but stopped after that. Now he was just occupying himself with asking random questions while you were putting the candles out, like what their scent was.

“okay okay, you get to be alone with me for the whole week or get one dinner with ryan gosling.” Sans questioned, waving his hand up at the ceiling while he spoke.

You sighed as you placed two more candles on your TV stand. “You already know my answer. You, obviously. Even before dating you, I wasn't appealed much at the thought of dating a man.”

Sans snorted, a small twinge of blue coming up on his face. “awww, really? i guess you’re really into skeletons, you necrophile.”

“Human fetish.”

“maybe. me personally, i would choose ryan gosling.”

You turned around to walk over to him on the couch, setting the lighter down on the coffee table. “You’re a big liar and you know it. Now move or be moved.”

Sans chuckled and sat up, scooting a bit to the side as you wormed your way next to him on the couch. The layout didn’t work at first, and you both exchanged an awkward look before you moved to sit in between his legs, your back resting against his ribs. His arms rested over your chest, his mandible sitting on the top of your head. Comfortable.

“you know, i’m not critiquing your choices here, but you lit up the whole house when we won't be anywhere but the living room and bedroom,” Sans spoke to you, his voice lowered down to an attractively quiet tone which only assisted with how correct his words were.

You shook your head, your hands going to rest over his. Why did he have his mittens on right now? “Nuh-uh. Who said I was taking you up to my bedroom?”

Sans scoffed, but you could tell he was being facetious. “i was meaning to sleep, you perv.”

“Sure you were. And my candles my choices, pal. You showed up out of nowhere and choose to sit here and make fun of me for being scared of the dark.” You paused your complaints, leaning forward a bit to turn your head and look back at him. “Why did you come over here out of nowhere again?”

Sans took one of his hands off your chest, bringing it up to brush some hair out of your face while he spoke to you. “just thought you’d want the company. i know you don’t like the dark, and paps is sleeping anyway.”

You smiled and leaned your face into his hand, a bit glad he was thinking of you. There wasn’t a moment where he wasn’t, but it still made you happy nonetheless. “It was a very nice surprise. I’m glad you showed up to protect me from the hallway demons.”

There was an attempt from Sans to run his hand through your hair while he listened to you, but since he had his mittens on it was just slipping over the top of your head and making your hair all staticky. He found it a bit amusing to do even after you tried batting his hand away.

“you didn’t need to light the candles you know.” He suggested another solution, successfully nagging your attention.

You know him well enough for it to only take 3 seconds to realize what he was getting behind.

“i have something that glows.” He was holding back laughter, partially from his upcoming joke and partially because of your expression.

“Shaddap. You come over to my house and make disgusting jokes. How sick.” You moved your head away from his hand, trying to pat down the static he was causing.

Sans’ hand kept trying to rub on your hair, his mitten charged up with electric static now.

He snickered, both his hands cupping your face to make you look at him. “deez nuts.”

“Out of my house.” You let him hold onto your face, enjoying the little shenanigans he was up to.

He didn’t answer back with a witty pun or joke, instead just pulling you down to rest your head on his chest. “there there. it must be so hard having such a hilarious boyfriend.”

“No.” You wrapped your arms around him in an attempt to snuggle into his embrace.

It was hard to cuddle up to him sometimes because he was always shifting around or letting his hands roam on you until you had to call him out to stop so that you could both go to sleep. Unless he was sleeping or pretending to sleep, he seemed to have a difficult time staying in one place for too long. Sometimes though, you’d catch him after he had an exhausting day and you’d both just hold each other in comfortable silence, not moving an inch or saying a word for hours. Those were some of your favorite days.

“Sans?” You called out his name after a few minutes of quiet.

“yeah, babe?” He answered immediately, one of his hands gently rubbing up and down your back while the other petted your hair.

You thought for a few moments about your question. “How did you first know when you liked me?”

Sans inhaled deeply. He loved asking and answering these silly little romance questions with you, but sometimes it was difficult to find the correct words for an answer.

“i just knew. i looked over to you and the realization hit me. there were no second thoughts or doubts about it.”

You stared at the wall for a few moments, your thumb rubbing small circles on the back of his vertebrae just above the hood on his jacket. Your candles were starting to burn out. You needed to light up new ones in a bit.

You kept your voice quiet to match his, acting as if speaking too loud would break the moment. “Do you remember when it was?”

“oh, yeah.” His smile tugged up a bit on the ends, his genuine smile showing through at the thought of the memory. “you want me to tell you about it so that i can gush over you?”

“Yes, please.”

“okay, uhhh,” He paused before recapping his memory with you. “you were at my house. in my room to be more specific. i was showing you through one of my video games since you hadn’t played it before, but i was kinda off that day.”

It was weird to him to think about because he didn’t remember why he wasn’t feeling well that day, or what video game he was showing you. He just remembered you.

“you somehow noticed, and you asked me what was up. whenever i told you nothing was up except for the ceiling, you told me to stop lying. you said you could tell by the way my voice sounded, and how my smile drooped down just a tad. i don’t even remember if i ended up answering you, but i know i was quiet for a while. nobody had ever uh… ever seen me like that before.”

You listened to him speak. His hands had stopped moving around on you entirely, just resting on the small of your back comfortably. “Yeah?”

“yeah. i don’t know why it was like that, but it was like i was dragged out of the little reality in my head where i was noticed by everyone but not noticed enough to be cared about like that. and the worry in your voice. you just looked like a different person in that moment and from then on. it was like i saw you clearly after looking through fogged glass.”

Sans always had a really good use of his words whenever he chose to use them instead of being silly. This was one of those moments where you were fully convinced that you could listen to him talk for hours.

“I love you.”

“i love you too.”

You weren’t sure if the rush of being able to tell him that you loved him and having him respond with such little hesitation would ever go away. Sans wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to it either.

All your candles had begun to burn out since they were just little tea lights, leaving you and Sans to succumb to a slow progression of darkness.

His voice broke the silence first, as it usually did. He always had lots of things to say to you. “all your candles are burning out, babe. you wanna light up some more? the power probably won't come back on for the rest of the night.”

The power probably wouldn’t come back on for a while, he was right. “Why don’t we just go to bed? It seems like a waste to light everything again when it’s so late at night, and I know you’re tired.”

“up to bed?” His voice took back a joking tone, and you braced yourself for the devious intentions behind his words. “no need for a candle, i know something that glows, hehe.”

“Sans… Don’t say it. It doesn’t get funnier the more that you say it.”

“deez nuts in your face.”

thanks for reading:3 it’s been storming really bad down where i live, so i wanted to write a little drabble for it. uploads might be a bit slow since finals during school r catching up to me, sorry! have a lovely night:)

[pumpkin-bats]

can you write some headcanons for the strawhats on their reaction when you don’t tell them “be safe/be careful” before they leave the ship even tho you usually do? thank you in advance if you do this, and sorry if it’s worded weird i’m half asleep rn😭🫡

Thank you for the request! I’m half asleep chronically but this was perfect to understand and oh my gosh I love this! I’m doing the whole crew with a variation of vibes. Everything is up to your interpretation 😉. This is gonna be fun!

When You Forget to Tell Them “Be safe/careful” - Strawhat Headcanons

Luffy:

He starts running away then dead stops to turn around and stare at you.

Literally just stares at you until you say something.

“What?” “Say it.” “Say what?” “Say the thing!”

He does not specify what it is you’re supposed to be saying and refuses to leave, pouting at you, until you finally tell him to be safe.

Massive idiot grin and a “shishishi- I will!” Before launching himself off the ship.

Zoro:

Makes it to the railing and just stops there, lingering.

He just stands there in silence with a little frown.

Eventually yells “oi!” at you and also doesn’t specify what kind of response he’s expecting from you.

When you finally say “be safe!” He gives his little Zoro grin but makes sure he’s facing away from you when he does.

Calls out a “yeah!” that’s supposed to be nonchalant but you can hear the smile in it as he leaves.

Sanji:

He’s internally bothered that you don’t say it, but it doesn’t show on his face.

Momentarily wonders if you’re mad at him.

Literally goes through the five stages of grief silently in his head.

Waves happily at you with a “I’ll make sure to be safe!” anyway, cause he thought you might still want the reassurance.

He lights up like a Christmas tree when you give a little “oh!” and respond positively, so he knows it’s just because you forgot and not because you hate him.

Nami:

Has no qualms about reminding you about what you’re supposed to ask her.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Leaning against the railing while tapping her chin.

Doesn’t even wait for the second guess of “what?” before going “where’s my ‘be careful!’?”

When she gets it, it’s all bright grins and a wink.

“There it is. You be safe too!” And leaving with an extra bout of confidence. She likes teasing you about it every time you forget.

Robin:

She expanded on your ‘be careful’ tradition by patting your head when you say it.

When she pats your head and you don’t say anything she keeps her hand there and just smiles at you.

Also no hesitation- “Do I not get a ‘be careful’ today?”

When she gets it she gives an extra head pat along with a “thank you.”

Smiling the entire time, patient the whole time, and a little wave as she leaves.

Usopp:

He keeps talking at you. Just rambling and random words.

When pushed to leave he takes small steps away from you and kinda goes like “if you’re forgetting something important, you should tell me now! Anything? It could be something you always say! A tradition you wanna share? Anything you can think of? If I never come back then I’ll never know whatever it is you might’ve wanted to say!”

He’s practically hanging onto the railing until eventually you tell him to be careful.

He laughs and pretends he wasn’t dragging his feet, waiting for you to say that.

“Of course I will! Is that what you wanted to say? I’m the great Usopp! When have I ever not been the most careful! You be careful too without me here to protect you!”

Franky:

At some point he started telling you to be safe first and waits for you to return it.

He says it, gets a few steps away before stopping and going “huh?” while scratching his head.

It takes him a second to realize what’s missing and when he does he turns to look back at you.

“You didn’t say it back!” “Say what?” “be safe!”

When he finally gets the response he wanted he gives you a big thumbs up, a bright grin, and then happily heads out.

Chopper:

He gets to the edge of the ship and pauses, then stalls to look over at you. Little face looking confused.

“You’re not going to tell me to be safe?” The sad puppy energy is so strong.

He genuinely pouts and looks like he would absolutely cry if you said no.

When you explain you forgot and then tell him to be careful he gets all bright eyed and happy smiles.

“I will! You be safe too!” And literally hops and skips of the ship. Would sing if he were any happier.

Brook:

He doesn’t say it first, but he always says goodbye and expects the “be careful” as a result.

He slows down the closer he gets to the edge of the ship with a hummed “hmmm?”

“I feel like I’m missing something.” He literally also forgets and takes a minute to run through a checklist of himself.

Once he’s sure he has everything, he takes a second to look around the ship and then sees you and goes “ah!”

“That’s what I was forgetting! You didn’t say be careful!” You give him his be careful and he says a cheery thank you. “I thought I was losing my head! Though I’m a skeleton so it’s entirely possible, yohohohoho!”

[i-arch-my-backula]

"No way, I'm new wave": The Lost Boys x Male! reader

This is something I started to work on awhile ago but set it aside because I didn't know where to go with it, but after y'all voted on that poll I finished it. I hope y'all enjoy.

Content includes: Swearing, mentions of an orgy and sex (nothing NSFW actually happens), descriptions of the readers outfit (no body descriptions), hallucinations if you squint, reader eats fake maggots, use of Y/N, he/him pronouns and masculine terms used to refer to reader

Paul has never been gone for this long before. Sure there were times the four of them went their separate ways and they had some time by themselves, but he specifically told them he’d be back within ten minutes and now, almost half an hour later, he’s still not here. David is getting fed up with this, not being much of someone who wants to be seen waiting around for someone else. 

“Where the hell is he?” He asks rhetorically, dismounting from his bike and looking over at Marko and Dwayne. Marko Shrugs his shoulders and Dwayne looks out at the boardwalk. The three of them stay silent for a few more moments before Dwayne starts to walk and the other two follow after him. They walk for two minutes in silence until they come across Paul, sitting at a table with some random guy in a, well a seemingly random outfit. Purple pants, black and white shoes, some obscured black band shirt underneath a grid patterned button up and a bright blue sports coat with buttons and pins all over it, not to mention this guy’s hair probably has an entire can of hairspray in it. That guy just so happening to be you.

“Are you really a punk?” They hear Paul ask you. You raise your eyebrows and lean on the table you’re sitting at with him.

“Punk?” You ask in a rhetorical tone, “No way, I’m new wave. Totally different head. Totally.” You explain, gesturing with one of your hands, your tone slightly jesting.

“Right.” Paul agrees in a matching joking tone, picking up his drink and taking a sip of it. David comes up behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Paul. We’ve been looking all over for you.” He looks over at you with his signature smile. “Who’s your new friend?” He asks, trying to keep his tone light. You stand up and give him a smile, holding out your hand for him to shake, your rings glinting dully in the lights of the boardwalk. 

“I’m Y/N. I didn’t mean to keep your friend from you but he commented on my pins and we started talking from there.” You say. David shakes your hand, his cold leather glove pressing against the warmth of your hand. 

“No problem at all.” He says, Dwayne and Marko soon coming up to the table, looking between Paul, David and you. 

“This guy is pretty cool.” Pauls says with a sort of vagueness to his tone. David keeps his eyes on you and nods, all four pairs of eyes on you, mostly looking over your outfit and choice of pins. 

“Ban the bum.” Marko says, squinting as he focuses his eyes on your pin. “And who’s that supposed to be on your pin?” He asks. You look down at your blazer and search for the one he’s talking about.

“Oh that’s Ronald Regan. I think you can tell that I’m not a big fan of the current way this country is being run.” You say, looking back up at him. Paul and Marko have wide grins on their faces as they look down between each other. David’s smile is more subtle and Dwayne is still stoic as always. 

“You fit in well here. I’m surprised you aren’t at some punk music show. Or I should say New Wave.” David says, an air of light hearted teasing in his voice. 

“Haven’t heard of any bands my style playing tonight.” You say as Paul stands up from his seat. “You guys look like you’d be at one of those shows too.” Your smile gets wider and your tone more playful. 

“You’d drive here?” Dwayne asks, finally speaking. Your attention turns to him and you shake your head. 

“I’m trying to drive less. I take the bus to most places. Not to get political again but we need more funding for public transport.” You tap your fingers on the table and pick up your drink. “You want to drive me home or murder me?” You tease, taking a sip of your drink before Paul chuckles. 

“You ever ridden a motorbike?” David asks, pulling a cigarette out of his coat pocket and lighting it, taking a drag and blowing the smoke out of the side of his mouth. You shake your head and shake your cup, setting it down on the table again. 

“Closest I’ve gotten to a motorbike is when one ran over my foot when I was 15.” After a pause you speak again, “I wasn’t serious about y’all taking me home. You don’t have to do that.” You say, feeling the outside of your pockets. “I’ve got a bus ticket. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself.”

“Who says we want to take you home.” Marko says, that grin still on his face. You nod your head and look away from the four of them for a moment. 

“I’m not interested in whatever orgy the four of you have planned. What you do with each other in the privacy of your house is none of my business but I don’t want to sleep with some people I just met.” You try to keep your tone light hearted but still serious enough to let them know you’re not joking. Then the four men chuckle, even Dwayne. 

“We’re not talking about sex.” David says, taking another drag of his cigarette. He keeps chuckling as he blows the smoke out of the side of his mouth. “We just have a place we want to show you. Somewhere you’ve probably never been before.” He shrugs and you cross your arms loosely over your chest. Against your better judgment you nod your head and keep your eyes on David.

“Alright. Let’s see what this place is.” You say, David smiling wider with your agreement. 

~~~~~~~~~

After a ride on the back of Paul’s bike that felt like hours you arrived at a cave on the shore line, an abandoned place for sure. You walk in with David as the other boys run ahead, lighting barrels with torches and filling the space with light. 

“This place used to be a grand hotel where the rich and famous stayed in the 1800s. That was until the San Francisco earthquake of 1906. This hotel sank underground, never to be seen again.” David explains, sitting down in what appears to be an antique wheelchair as the other boys settle around, you following suit. “Now this place is ours.” He says with a wide smile. 

“What a rich backstory.” You say with a jesting tone, nodding your head as Paul pulls out a box of chinese take out.

“You still hungry?” He asks, a smile on his face. “I saved this.” You take the box from him and the plastic spoon he hands you. Opening the box you find white rice, which you don’t remember ordering but you know it usually comes with chinese food. You take a bite and they start to chuckle. 

“How are the maggots?” David asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Excuse me?” You ask, already getting another spoonful of rice. 

“You’re eating maggots, Y/N.” You chuckle now and look down at the rice, finding that somehow the rice turned into a box full of live maggots. You loosen your grip on the box before quickly grabbing it again, some of the maggots spilling out of the top. The boys break out into full on laughter. You look back up at David and, with as straight of a face you can muster, you take a spoonful of the maggots and put it back into your mouth. 

Their laughter dies down and David continues to watch you, his smile shrinking but not going away completely. Once it’s in your mouth you look back down at the box and see it’s back to rice. 

“I didn’t take you as the kind of person who enjoys eating live bugs.” David jests, tapping his fingers on his knee as you chew. 

“Can’t eat something that isn’t real.” You retort in a less cheerful manner. He just smiles even wider at that. 

“What’s real is the snake around your hips.” He says, raising his eyebrows for a moment. You scoff and shake your head before you feel movement where your belt is. Looking down you find a black snake slithering its way around your hips.

“What the fuck?” You exclaim, jumping up from your seat as the boys start laughing again. You look back up at David and brush off the snake only to find that it’s gone, and in its place is your belt again. “Is there a gas leak in here or something?” You ask in a genuine tone, only making the boys laugh harder. David shakes his head and motions for you to sit back down, which you do slowly. 

“It’s safe down here, don’t worry about it.” He looks over at Paul with some kind of undertone you can’t quite pick up on and Paul gets up, walking over somewhere behind David. “Now maggots don’t bother you but snakes do?” You stare at him with a sour expression before you reply. 

“My mind thinking a box of rice is a box of maggots is one thing but feeling a real snake on my body out of nowhere is another.” You say, trying to hide your clearly tense tone. 

“You’re not scared are you?” Marko teases, a grin wide on his face as you look over at him. You hesitate before you shake your head and look back over at David.

“I’m just fine.” You say, putting on your best poker face as Paul returns with a glamorously decorated bottle. He hands it to David who starts to unscrew the top. He takes a sip from the bottle and looks back over at you.

“You drink Y/N?” He asks, adjusting his position on the wheelchair and leaning over to hand you the bottle. You look down at it and slowly take it from his hands. 

“You make homemade wine or something?” You ask, smelling the liquid inside the bottle. It’s got a metallic smell to it along with the alcohol, unlike any wine you’ve smelled before. 

“You could say that.” David says with that same smug expression he’s had on for most of the night. “Why don’t you try some?” He asks. You look down at the bottle again and give it another smell. 

“Come on, try some. Don’t be a wuss.” Paul says in a teasing tone, returning to where he was sitting. Dwayne nods his head and Marko looks at you expectantly. Against your better judgment you take a drink of the wine, earning a cheer from the boys. Marko pats your shoulder in a friendly way and Paul makes a noise of excitement. Dwayne smiles and David nods his head. 

“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint.” David says, taking the bottle back from you and screwing the cap back on. You know it couldn’t have been normal wine, but one sip won’t kill you, what’s the worst that could happen?

[greetings-and-salutations]

“There’s Plenty of Kish in The Sea, Right?”

Fred Weasley x Reader Part 1

Day 8 of the 13 Nights of Halloween Spooktacular!!!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

(Gif not mine)

Requested? No

Summary: Cedric wants to be a champion. (Y/n) wants him to live to see the end of the school year. Freddie just wants to be (Y/n)’s boyfriend…

Warnings: starred out swear words, jealous Freddie, Angst-kinda

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader (you’re a Hufflepuff)

(Y/n/n) - your nickname

The room was practically buzzing with anticipation. Dinner had been over and done with for what felt like ages, and yet no one had dared move from their seats. They remained, waiting. Because tonight was a big night. Tonight the students of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang would find out who had been chosen to compete in this years Triwizard Tournament.

“Calm down, Ced.” (Y/n) tried, her housemate and best friend practically bouncing in his seat, the anxiety flowing off of him in almost visible waves. (Y/n) herself was substantially less nervous, seeing as how her birthday wasn’t for a few more months and she was therefore ineligible for the event. Not that she’d have entered, anyhow. She valued her life, thank you very much. Cedric, however…

“I can’t help it (Y/n)! This is a huge deal! Finally, my chance to make something of myself… Ever since Harry got here it’s like I’m not good enough anymore and-“ Cedric ran his fingers through his hair in distress, (Y/n) frowning at his words, cutting him off with a comforting pat on the shoulder.

“Okay, calm down.” She ordered, the boy turning his body to look at her as she continued, knowing full well the true reasoning behind his nerves, and not liking his self-deprecation one bit… “Look, I know you want to make your dad proud, Ced. But, he loves you. And I’m sure he’ll love you just as much even if you don’t get chosen.” She ran her hand along his back in what she hoped were soothing circles, to which she was proven correct when the taller lad sunk into her embrace with a sigh.

“Thanks, (Y/n/n)… I suppose you’re right…” He mumbled, resting his head on her shoulder. (Y/n) chucked in response.

“Aren’t I always?” She asked, earning herself a playful shove back which had them both giggling. “You know, I’m still not even sure what would posses a person to want to do something like this.” (Y/n) noted, running her hand through Cedric’s hair mindlessly, as she voiced her thoughts on the tournament for what was quite possibly the millionth time. Previously, it had been in an attempt to talk the older boy out of it, though, more currently, it was simply out of spite, as there was nothing anyone could do once his name had been entered. Not that (Y/n) thought that out of all the names he’d get picked. Of course she wouldn’t be telling him that. He seemed so excited about it all. And it would be much easier to deal with a Cedric that was mad at the system for not choosing him than one mad at his best friend for not believing in him. No matter that the choice seemed relatively random…

Cedric just hummed, most likely to humor her strong opinions at this point, but (Y/n) didn’t mind, as she continued on.

“I was talking to Hermione and she said-“

“Shh!!! It’s starting!” Well, then…

+ + +

“Ahh the trusty old ‘stare at her until she notices you’ trick. Works every time.” George joked from beside Fred, who sent him the nastiest glare he could muster up, before returning his attention to the Hufflepuff across the room. He just couldn’t help it. She was gorgeous. Fred had been pretty much head-over-heels in love with her since they’d been paired up for potions the first day of third year. And, much to his twin brothers amusement, he’d been fairly useless as a human being around her ever since. It’s not like Fred meant to become a stuttering mess of a man every time he was within a ten foot radius of the girl. Under normal circumstances, he could flirt his way out of a jail sentence if he really wanted to. Fred was fairly proud of this fact. But, with (Y/n), it was like he was putty in her hands. And it was incredibly infuriating…

“Shove off, mate.” Fred grumbled, finally turning his attention away from the Hufflepuff table and back to the world around him when Cedric Diggory dropped his head to rest so f*cking adorably on (Y/n)’s shoulder. Fred briefly entertained the idea of a ‘disappearing’ prank on the older bloke, but, upon the realization that that was insane, opted to simply pout at the tabletop in front of him. A nudge from his other side gained his attention away from the wood grain, however, and Fred turned to Lee with a raised brow. “What?”

“You need to loosen up, Freddie. It’s one girl. What’s that muggle saying? ‘There’s plenty of kish in the sea’?” Lee offered, confusing the sh*t out of pretty much everyone present, before George made to correct him.

“‘Fish in the sea.’ ‘There’s plenty of fish in the sea’, mate.” He said, though nobody could hold in their snickers as Lee crossed his arms across his chest defensively. Even Fred managed a small smile before returning to a neutral expression (that one might consider rather downcast for the guy in question) when Lee jumped to his own defense.

“I’m pretty sure it was ‘kish.’” He argued, clearly causing George’s annoyance to grow, while Fred remained relatively unbothered. He wasn’t looking for a different ‘fish’ or ‘kish’ anyhow. He just wanted (Y/n)…

“Why the bloody hell would it be ‘kish’? What the f*ck is a ‘kish in the sea.’” George complained loudly, unintentionally firing Lee up more. Fred rolled his eyes.

“A good snog. Lip locking. Spit sharing. You know, a ‘kish.’” He enunciated his point with a loud smack of his own lips followed by a cheeky grin that probably meant he was proud of himself, for what, Fred didn’t know. That was just about the dumbest thing he’d ever heard, and he’d been sharing a house with Ron for the last fourteen years…

“You’re an absolute idiot.”

“Hey, you’re one to talk!”

“Why don’t you say that to my face, huh!?”

“You think I won’t!?”

“Get to it, then!”

“I will-“

“Shut up, you tossers! It’s starting!” Fred almost yelled, interrupting the fighting boys when he noticed Dumbledore making his way towards the goblet at the other end of the Hall. Finally. Something to distract him…

+ + +

“Cedric Diggory!”

W-what?

The table around (Y/n) felt like it was shaking. Hufflepuffs of all ages clapping and pounding on the hard wood in support of their champion. Of Cedric…

“(Y/n/n)!” And suddenly her feet were off the ground, her best friends arms wrapped around her tightly as he swung the younger girl around in his excitement, one that she could, regrettably, not join him in.

Cedric was going to compete in the triwizard tournament... The triwizard tournament… The incredibly dangerous triwizard tournament… Cedric…

“Oh my…” (Y/n) barely managed to breathe out, in complete and utter disbelief of the situation. Meanwhile, Cedric was practically glowing.

“I did it!” He spoke ecstatically into her ear as he put her back down on her own two feet, the biggest grin (Y/n) had ever seen spread across his face. It dimmed slightly, however, when he noticed her own worried expression, and realized that she did not share in his joy.

“Hey…” He mumbled, pulling her back in for another hug, though this one considerably calmer, which (Y/n) was grateful for. “I’m gonna be okay… I’m gonna win this thing. Yeah?” He whispered so softly (Y/n) wouldn’t have been able to hear him had he not been so close.

Now, she didn’t know how much she believed him, the concern for her friend eating away at the girl immensely, but (Y/n) gave him her best smile and nod anyway, knowing that all she could do at this point was support him. Merlin knows he’s going to need it…

“I’ve gotta go with the other champions but I’ll see you later, Okay?” And (Y/n) nodded again, holding her expression for as long as she could, before finally sighing in relief when he turned, and she could drop the act and allow herself to wallow in her true feelings. God, if she hadn’t been before, she surely was nervous now…

And that was all before the boy who lived was announced as the fourth champion…

+ + +

Could this day get any worse?

Fred thought not, as the current residents of the Great Hall all sprang to their feet and began chatting animatedly about the events that had just transpired. But Fred remained stationary in his seat, grip so tight on the tables edge that, had he cared, he’d be worried he might break it.

But Fred’s mind was elsewhere, going a mile a minute in just about a million different directions.

Cedric was the Hogwarts champion…

Harry put his name in the Goblet of Fire…

Cedric was all over (Y/n) when they called his name…

Why didn’t Harry tell George and I how to put ours in?

(Y/n) looked so worried when Cedric walked off to join the other champions…

Why doesn’t she look at me like that?

“You good, mate?” Fred heard George ask from beside him, but he didn’t answer. What could he say? “No, actually. I’m incredibly offended that the girl I like seems to fancy another guy, even though I’ve given her absolutely no reason to think I’m interested in her because I can’t f*cking talk to her without sounding like a complete and utter doof.” Yeah, that would be real helpful…

“Sorry, spaced.” Fred mumbled dumbly before finally getting to his feet. “I’m tired. Let’s go on up.”

Fred knew George was looking at him funny, but he didn’t have the energy to care, as the pair made their way out of the Hall, Fred, for the first time in over two years, not sparing a single glance at the Hufflepuff table…

There’s plenty of kish in the sea, right?

TO BE CONTINUED

Tag lists are open!!!

Tags: @electriclcvewp @missryerye @kaqua @miaandthediamonds @lolawassad @nani-2305 @etanordoesbullsh1t

[offside-the-lines]

Only You Can Decide | Cale Makar

Summary: For her parents, Cassandra has always tried to be good— perfect, even. Just grin and bear it. That all comes crashing down because, at the end of the day, Cale is her fiancé— her partner— her future.

This was written for @wyattjohnston's Lowkey Lovefest 2k24. The prompt used: “Fine. Throw me to the wolves. See how that works for you.” Pairing: Cale Makar x Female!OC (Engaged) Word count: 3.4k ⚠️ Warnings: this is pretty angsty and features a lot of the OC's toxic parents and her struggle with them. It does have a happy ending though. The story is also slightly non-linear/features flashbacks. ⚠️ a/n: Thanks to Demi for also requesting such an interesting prompt. I would never have thought to pair the two and it was so fun to write. Thanks to @imperatorrrrr for always co-drifting the writing Jaeger with me (just a random Pacific Rim ref). Nobody show this to my therapist LOL she would be frantically taking notes. Requests (open) | Masterlist & Who I Write For | Join My Taglist

Cassandra sat in her childhood bedroom and stared at the blank white walls. Growing up, she never had any posters, or magazine cutouts, or pictures taped to the wall like the other kids. The walls remained always pristine. Plain. Perfectly presentable. She guessed it worked out now that her parents used the room as a guest bedroom.

There were obviously no tissues in here— she sure as hell wasn’t about to go find some— so she just wiped her tears on the sleeves of her sweater and tried not to wince at her makeup staining the beige cashmere. Fuck.

The thing is, she knew that this would happen. They had been fighting about it the entire drive over.

“Cale, we can’t just tell them. It’s my parents. You know what they’re like,” she huffed as he pulled into her parent’s driveway.

“I know Cass, and that in and of itself is already so fucked up. They shouldn’t get to talk to you like that. They definitely don’t get to talk to me like that,” he sighed.

“I don’t know what you want me to do.” Her cheeks were hot. She knew they needed to calm down before they went inside; otherwise, her parents would have a million questions about why they looked so flustered.

“Cassie, baby, we have to tell them. We can’t keep doing this,” he sighed.

“I know… I just have to make sure it’s the right moment, or it’ll be this whole thing. They’re just…” 

“And you have to set a boundary with them.” He reached across the center console and tried to take her hand.

She snatched her hand away, snapping, “I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that. Look, Cale, why can’t you just fucking grin and bear it like the rest of us? Aren’t you hockey players supposed to have thick skin or something? Why are you being such a fucking pussy?”

Cale leaned back and just stared at her for a long minute; the oppressive silence in the car was becoming unbearable. She could see the tick in his jaw that indicated he was holding himself back from retaliating. The mounting tension was broken when they heard the front door open, and her mother call out to them.

Cale took a deep breath. “Fine. Throw me to the wolves. See how that works out for you,” he mumbled before he opened the door and stepped out.

Cassandra felt a wave of nausea roll over her. She barely recognized that version of herself, the Cassandra that was bitter enough to say hurtful things on purpose. God, she thought she was better than this— better than them.

She knew in her gut that it was going to be bad because they started off-kilter, the unresolved disagreement hanging over them as they tried to play nice. Anxiety had twisted her body like a coil, winding her too tightly. She had naively hoped they would just get away with it.

Things were fine until the second course. At the end of the day, her parents were sharks, smelling a single drop of weakness from miles away.

Her father was the one to pop the bubble, not even looking up as he casually cut his steak, when he asked, “So, Cale, you’re not still doing that hockey thing, are you?”

She felt him freeze next to her as her own knuckles went white from her grip on her cutlery. He took a deep breath.

“Yes, sir, I am.” Cale’s voice was so calm and even. Too calm and even.

Her father hummed as he chewed, looking between them appraisingly. “That’s a shame,” he finally said, “Do you have a plan for finding a real job when you’re done with that nonsense, then, son?”

Cassandra looked down at her plate and swallowed hard. She could feel Cale’s gaze on her, but the searing heat of shame traveling up the back of her neck paralyzed her.

“No, sir. I am still pretty young for a hockey player. I hope to play for at least another 10 years,” he said. She could see in her peripheral vision that he had put his cutlery down and was clutching the napkin in his lap. 

This time, her mother spoke up, “Oh honey, that seems a little silly, wasting all your good years on nonsense like that. A nice young man like you would do so well in a respectable profession. Have you ever considered investment banking? I’m sure Cassandra’s brother would be happy to tell you more about it.”

“Darling,” her father cut in, chuckling lightly, “Wall Street is cutthroat. Only the best of the best make it there. I admit, I don’t know much about Cale here, but I’m sure there are more realistic aspirations for an athlete. I guess he could always work for Cassandra once she owns her own veterinary clinic, isn’t that right, kid?”

Cassandra could feel the tightness take over her throat; her hands were shaking so much her cutlery was clattering on the porcelain. She put them down and wiped her mouth with her napkin. 

“Cassandra, I expect you to respond when I speak to you,” her father’s voice boomed.

She forced herself to nod, her eyes darting around the table.

“Sweetheart, sit up,” her mother needled, “No one likes a girl who slouches.”

She felt her spine straighten stiffly without her meaning to. Cale shifted in his seat next to her, placing his napkin, which was clenched in his fist, on the table.

He clears his throat. “Actually, I have no interest in quitting hockey. I will never— With all due respect, Sir, Ma’am, you don’t seem particularly informed on the topic, so I ask that you please not make any comments about it. I am happy to talk about anything else.”

“Do not disrespect me in my house, son.” Her father slammed his own knife and fork onto the table; it made her jump, eyes remaining fixed on a breadcrumb on the tablecloth.

“I’m not going to apologize for making a reasonable request, sir. It seems my presence here isn’t wanted, so I’m going to have to excuse myself. Thank you for the meal, Mr and Mrs Wentworth,” Cale stated dispassionately. He stood up and tucked his chair in before pausing. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and quietly murmured, “Cassie, can I speak with you outside?”

Cassandra was standing up to follow Cale, who was already walking down the hallway when she heard her father command, “Sit down.”

Her body froze, halfway out of her seat. She watched as Cale kept walking; he didn’t turn to look back once. She tried to swallow down the mounting panic and willed herself not to cry, even as her vision blurred.

“I did not invest so much time and money into my daughter only for her to end up with some stupid, insolent, meathead athlete. Cassandra, I have had enough of this childish thing. Find someone more suitable,” he spat, “Now, you’re going to sit here and eat the food your mother made.”

She didn’t even realize she was crying until she felt the wet splash of tears on her hands clasped in her lap. She dug her nails into her palm and tried to focus on the sharp pain there instead.

“Cassandra,” her mother’s voice added softly, “I know you’re upset right now, but that’s temporary. Your father’s right; you should listen to him. We have lived long enough to know what’s best for you, and we’re just the only ones who love you enough to tell you the truth. You are wasting your time with that boy.”

She felt the words hit her like a slap in her face; it was enough to unfreeze her body and her voice. She sprung up, knocking over her chair. “Excuse me,” was all she said before running out of the room. She heard them yell after her, but she wasn’t listening.

When she threw the front door open, she saw Cale ducking into a car.

“Cale, wait!” she yelled, frantically running to him. 

He looked up, red-cheeked and teary; it had hurt that he looked surprised to see her.

“Cale, please— Please don’t go,” she cried, reaching out for his hand as soon as she was close enough.

He allowed her to pull him out of the car but only moved until he was standing in front of her. He reached up and cupped her cheek. She hated what she saw: Cale was teary and red. The rosy cheeks she loved so much meant something different at that moment.

“Please don’t go,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip hard enough to taste the metallic bloom of blood.

He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. 

“Cassie, I love you, I really do. But I—” His voice wavered. “I have heard a lot of shit on the ice, but I have never felt—” He paused and took a deep breath before continuing, “Look, you are welcome to stay. It’s your parents, I understand, but I just can’t be here anymore. I’m just heading home, okay?”

“I—” she interrupted before he shook his head once, curt and resigned.

“I promise I’ll be there when you are ready to head back. We can talk about this later, maybe once we’ve both had some time to cool off and think.”

“Think?” she felt sick, the blood draining from her face.

“Cassie, if I stay, we’re— I’m going to say something I’ll regret.” He looked down at her with his eyebrows scrunched and jaw clenched tight. “I left the keys in the car, but please don’t drive if you’re upset, okay?”

“Cale…” she started again, but her voice voice trailed off; she didn’t even know what she meant to say.

He leaned in and gave her a kiss on her forehead before stepping back into the waiting car. “I love you, Cass. I’ll see you at home,” he said before closing the car door.

“Please…” she whispered as she watched the car pull away from the curb.

She unclenched her hands and watched the color return; the crescents her nails left behind were dark and deep in the skin. She flipped her hands over, inspecting them.

Cassandra knew it was childish hiding from her parents in her room. But then again— wasn’t she always hiding herself from them?

She took the ring out of her pocket and put it on her left ring finger. As she looked at the sparkle, she felt a fresh wave of tears crash into her. Her chest felt cracked open; Cassandra was sure at that moment that having an eagle rip at her liver for the rest of eternity would hurt less. 

She sobbed into her hands until the tears stopped falling from her eyes, wrung dry. The longer she sat there, the more her sadness morphed into anger. 

What the fuck was she doing?

Maybe she hadn’t realized before that she was making a choice, but at that moment, it felt crystal clear that she had made the wrong one.

Why was she even there?

When she couldn’t come up with a good reason, she finally stood up and made her way back downstairs. Everything had come into focus, and she had never felt more sure of herself.

“My god, Cassandra, you look an absolute mess,” her mother chided immediately, “Those stains are never going to come out of the cashmere.”

She stood in the doorway of the formal dining room, and she laughed a loud, hollow sound.

“Yeah, no, I’m not doing this anymore,” Cassandra retorted flatly. For once, her voice did not wobble. 

Both of her parents made affronted sounds, leaping out of their chairs, but she continued speaking right over them.

“No! I’m done. I do not deserve to be treated like this. I don’t care how much you’ve ‘invested’ in me. You can find your return on investment elsewhere. I’m leaving.”

“Cassandra—” her mother wailed, clutching her hands to her chest.

“Over my dead body,” her father snarled, stomping over towards her.

She shook her head and turned to leave. Her father’s hand tightened around her arm, pulling her back. She snatched her arm away; her heart was thundering in her chest.

“Do not try to stop me from leaving, or I’ll scream. You don’t want everyone to hear, do you? Because I will cause a scene. You’ll be the talk of the neighborhood. Wouldn’t really be good for the family image, would it?” she spat.

She had taken a few steps toward the door before she turned back, her glaring eyes flicking between her parents. “For your information, Cale is a better person than either of you could ever hope to be. I’ve always let you treat me however you like. I don’t even care; I’m used to it at this point. But not Cale— He is absolutely incredible. Not just an incredible hockey player, but he is an incredible teammate, an incredible fiancé, and an incredible person—”

Her mother squawked.

“Yes, mother, I said fiancé. I plan on spending the rest of my life with him. So don’t call me again until you’re ready to treat him with the respect he deserves.”

Cassandra didn’t hear another word they said as she stormed out of the house, slamming the door as she left.

The drive home was excruciating. She sat in silence, her hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel; the only sounds were her heavy breaths and thundering heartbeat. 

Cale was sitting on the couch, a duffel bag next to him, when she burst through the front door. She didn’t bother to take off her shoes as she sprinted to him.

“Cale, what is this?” she said, horrified as she pointed to his bag.

“Cass, I just figured— If you want some space to think, I can go. I called Nate, and I can go stay with him for a couple of days.” He sounded just as raw as she felt.

Her head spun, and she suddenly felt like the air she was breathing was too thick, like she wasn’t getting any oxygen. She fell to her knees in front of him.

“No! No, don’t— No—” she pleaded frantically.

“Woah— Woah. Don’t—” His eyes widened, his arms reaching out to lift her onto the couch.

“Please don’t leave, Cale. Please— Please don’t— I just want to talk, okay? Please— Can you— Just hear me out,” The words rushed out of her in a jumbled mess, catching in her throat. 

“Okay,” he said, “Okay, I’ll stay. Just breathe for a second.”

She tried to take a deep breath, but the panic gripping her chest made it difficult. He took her hands, applying gentle pressure as he rubbed circles with his thumbs on the back of her hands. 

After a long silence— it could have been a minute or an hour— Cale was the first to speak.

“Are you ashamed of me? And my quote-unquote unrespectable profession?” Cale’s voice was quiet, tired.

“What? No!” she gasped, shaking her head violently, “Of course not.”

“Do you still want to marry me?”

“Yes!” she yelled. She caught herself and continued at a more normal volume, “Of course, I want to marry you. What are you— Cale—”

“Okay, that’s a good start,” Cale shot her a small strained smile, squeezing her hand three times: I. Love. You.— their silent message. 

“I’m sorry, Cale. Back at my— I should’ve— I’m sorry.” She paused and let out a shaking breath. “I love you. I choose you. And I will always choose you. I’m sorry that I haven’t been acting that way.”

“Cassie—”

“No. Please just let me get this out. I was planning this speech the entire drive home.”

He chuckled lightly, his smile more natural, “Okay. Go on.”

She nodded and took a deep breath. “After you left, I was just sitting there, hiding in that god-forsaken room I grew up in, and it just hit me: what the fuck was I doing.” She looked down at their joined hands and fidgeted with his fingers.

“Growing up— That room—” She paused, shaking her head. “My parents have always made me feel like I needed to be perfect in order to be loved. I had to be the perfect daughter, following the perfect plan they had mapped out for me. And fuck— I tried. I tried so hard to be that girl. To make them happy. To make them proud. And every time I thought I was getting close, they would just move the bar. It was never good enough. I was never good enough. And I was never going to be— I will never be good enough to deserve their love and—”

She wanted to dig her nails into her hands, but his fingers were in the way.

“Fuck, Cale. Sitting in that room, I realized that I didn’t even want it anymore. I don’t want or need their approval anymore. Because you— You taught me what it meant to be loved without expectation, without conditions. I can totally fuck this up like I did today, and you are always there, loving me and ready to figure it out together. As a team.”

She forced herself to look up at him. It was hard not to get lost in his blue eyes, always so warm, always so constant. She felt herself send him a small smile. 

“I never thought that I would get to have this. To be loved like this. Or maybe even deserve to be loved like this. So I just— I’m sorry, Cale, for not having your back and for not being a team.”

“What about your parents?” Cale asked quietly.

“My parents— They are my past, and you, Cale, are my future. And I am never going to forget that again. I’m sorry for all the shit they said to you and for all the shit I said to you. I promise that I will never throw you to the wolves like that again.”

Cassandra was panting, her breaths coming out in wet hiccups. Cale pulled her in and enveloped her in a tight hug.

“Wow, Cass, I’ll give it to you; that was quite a speech,” he mumbled into her hair. 

It startled a laugh out of her— although it came out as more of a choked sob.

“Maybe we should’ve recorded it so you could just play that for your vows when we get married,” he chuckled in return.

He leaned back and held her face in his hands. He brushed his callused thumbs over her tear-streaked face.

“For what it’s worth, you deserved better than how they treated you. You deserve— You have always deserved to be loved without condition and without expectation,” Cale whispered, his expression so earnest she could feel herself welling up with tears again, “I hope I can remind you of that every day for the rest of our lives. I can’t wait to build a future with you. I love you, Cassandra. So much.”

“Maybe we should just elope,” she mumbled, a wide smile finally settling on her face.

“Okay, maybe let’s talk about that another day when we are a little less wrung out emotionally,” he said as he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

“Fine, I guess,” she groaned cheekily.

“Don’t get me wrong, I can’t wait to marry you. I just don’t want to make any rash decisions you’re going to regret,” he squeezed her cheeks together, smiling as her lips puckered.

“Shut up, Makar,” her words came out all mumbly, “Stop being so perfect. It’s so annoying.”

Cale’s laugh filled her body with warmth, seeping into every single corner, and loosening the iron grip anxiety and fear had on her chest. He kissed her cheek and stood up from the couch, holding his hand out to her.

“How about this? We run a hot bath, and then we can see if any reckless things come of that.”

“Are you propositioning me, Cale Makar?”

He shrugged, “Maybe? What if emotional intimacy turns me on?”

“Oh my god, you are such a weirdo,” she laughed, rolling her eyes while she let herself be pulled up from the couch.

“Your weirdo,” he smiled proudly, wrapping his arms around her from behind and gently nudging her to their bedroom.

She felt the corners of her mouth tick up automatically, “Yeah, you are.”

Requests (open) | Masterlist | Join My Taglist

[ravenalla]

“The hellhounds originated from Gluttony and Beelzebub created them that’s why she looks like that. She’s suppose to be like the animal tamer of Lucifer’s circus.”

Okay but like Viv, none of that is made clear in your actual show. People had to actively ask if she was suppose to be the one and only Beelzebub and now your relying on Twitter fans to make theories on why your characters look certain ways or are allowed to do certain things, people who don’t follow you on social media aren’t gonna know shit about how this world works. I like subtle world building and hints, and I think the ideas of Beelzebub representing an animal tamer is fun (even if wrath makes more sense to me), but when the rules of how the hierarchy system and rings work is already so confusing and relies entirely on you looking it up online it just looks like you wanted to make another random furry design. Why are hellhounds represented by gluttony? We were never shown an instance of this before and the episode doesn’t even say that they’re in the gluttony ring at the start (which is just another Earth with a yellow sky this time how creative).

I’m not saying I want the show to spoon feed us everything, but just a little context and set up in the actual show instead of random things just happening all the time with no explanation would be nice? Like yeah it might get explained more later on in Hazbin, but why then did you make this entire spin-off show come out first taking place in these other locations and with these demon lords if you weren’t gonna set the ground rules of your universe for the audience? That’s exactly what’s causing people online to scramble to come up with explanations for you about why you have discrepancies like Tex and Beelzebub not being a big deal but Stolas and Blitz are, your relying entirely on diehard fans to wave away your shitty writing and world-building cause you never take even a single moment in your show to have a character say anything that would clew us in on how it all works. There’s too much exposition in writing, and then there’s never giving any so you just have to make guesses or listen in on streams to figure out what society your characters are even suppose to be navigating.

Also for the “A bee/fly would have been unoriginal and ugly, she doesn’t have to follow the Bible lore” people, have you considered the fact it’s just a messy design? Like I don’t even hate it on it’s own, she looks really pretty in the fanart I’ve been seeing. But putting aside the fact she’s just a wolf/fox girl, she has so many unnecessary markings, her actual hair combined with the honey hair looks so unnatural and awkward, the bug traits don’t stand out, her outfit is basically only a slight redesign of Loona’s and as people have pointed out makes no sense on her chest with the supposed undershirt. You just can’t tell what your suppose to be looking at when you first see her, it’s just noise, which is fine for an oc, but this is an actual animated show where your suppose to be communicating something. The problem isn’t she’s not fat, I’m glad they didn’t do that for her in a show with everyone else skinny it would’ve read bad, it’s that she only stands out because they slapped bright colors neon colors onto her, nothing about this design is clever. It’s just pretty aesthetics, no substance.

Also I’m sorry, they could’ve made her entirely a bug and still have been hot, why are people assuming we are saying she should’ve been ugly when we say we wanted a more insect-like design? I’ve seen loads of gorgeous bug designs for Beelzebub, people aren’t disappointed cause she’s hot they’re disappointed cause it makes no sense.

[shroudandsands]

Prompt #9: Lend an Ear

You look at your terminal, drenched in a wave of listlessness as you watch time slowly tick by on the corner of the screen. You haven’t done much of anything this evening. Especially not after the long day you’ve had- seriously, how did someone screw up hard enough to brick half the auto-fabs in the building? And why is it your problem that they did? Ugh. You haven’t touched the laundry. Your shoes are sideways and up against the wall from where you kicked them off. There’s food in the cupboard but you can’t be bothered to get up and get it. It’s too early for bed and you can’t dredge up the energy to get off the couch you’re laying on anyways…

Flicking through the intranet gets you about as much entertainment as you’d imagined. People being morons on the boards, uploads that you aren’t entirely sure are meant to be there, missing person reports that you’re pretty sure are supposed to be sent directly to hunters- Ah ha, there’s something. You click in on a custom feed someone set up. You’d poked in it before, on the clock of course, and you were pleasantly surprised to find that it was made by a local reforger. Well… as local as those guys got given the whole profession. But nonetheless it was cool to see. Pretty rare that the reforgers post much of anything regarding their work, the outside, and the various things they found. If they did it was usually poorly formatted or without much in the way of comment on the thing itself. I mean- Who’s supposed to find a random old cube of electrope interesting enough to look at in and of itself? But that’s where this guy caught your eye. You scroll through the feed. You hadn’t checked it in a few days- It seems as if he’d gone out on an expedition and he’d been putting out short updates while he did. You’re glad you missed it, frankly, and got caught up right as he posted about his return… and the recording of his adventure through the old city. You get up, energized, and grab something out of the cupboard to eat. Can’t watch something this good without food, right? Bust out the sweet stuff for once. You could splurge. You throw yourself back onto your couch as you flick play on the display.

-- You’re greeted by a POV recording from a module in his mask. His calloused hand comes down through the frame as he looks up towards what seems to be an old manufactory building. Or, at least, that’s what you guess based on the semi-similar markings to what were on the same sort of buildings today. Y’know. Like your workplace. You scowl until he begins to talk. “Alright. Got pointed here by a friend of a friend, said they’d been scroungin’ in here for scrap when the floor started givin’ up under ‘em. Somethin’ about how that’s right up my alley, seein’ as nobody was gonna dispatch a hovercraft out here…” You can hear as he adjusts his gear out of frame. He lifts his electrope tether up into view of the camera before twirling it a couple of times. “Well. Let’s get started then, shall we? This is the Rusty Reforger and I’m here to take you through a pre-surge manufacturing facility meant for specialty conversion of electrope rations.” You watch as the purple-shone electrope swings high and flies all the way towards the top of the building. It snaps taut as it grips on like a magnet. And then he climbs.

--

Galena rolled away from the editing deck he’d cobbled together from various finds and things he’d been given by other reforgers. Taking salvage for yourself like this could certainly be seen as a little but selfish, sure, but in his own mind he’d certainly earned it. Not like he had much to do around their apartment anyways. Or… his apartment. He sighed. At least the last trip had been a fun one. Old electrope clocks with odd circuitry. (He turned one of them in. Good scrap. The other three went to a fellow reforger.) A scale that checked both the mass and conductivity of pieces of electrope placed on it. (Pretty rare. Especially since it was still working. He was tempted to keep this one for himself, but couldn’t do that in good conscience. He left it with a contact in the outskirts who might be able to put it to better use.) A tool meant to re-etch electrope circuits and sigils in the field. (Out of date by a damn good while, of course, and incompatible with modern techniques. But it would be pretty valuable to someone who worked with antiques or restoring old pieces… He made a couple calls to find an old friend. They screamed over the line when he told them.) There were plenty of less notable items, of course, but admittedly he’d had a lot of fun talking about even the most mundane finds. And it seemed as if the people who watched his work did as well. It was… nice. Having so many people tune in to listen to him talk about the devices of the old kingdom or even simply a few decades out of fashion was invigorating. Especially when some of the comments were enthusiastic- “Saved my night with this one, Rusty. Shit day at work and nothing to do after having my ass handed to me… and then you show up with this!”

[renx01]

Out of Sight - Part 2

General idea: Moriarty is your boss. After he helped you out of a precarious situation when you were still a minor, you started working for him. Now, he has a new job for you. Get close to the Holmes brothers to keep an eye on them for him. Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Reader  & Jim Moriarty/Reader Fandom: BBC Sherlock Word count: 1264

Masterlist

The following morning you woke up early and got the tube to Scotland Yard, where you were introduced to Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade and his team. ‘This is Charlie Moore, they’ve been transferred from our department in Manchester to assist us with the rise in murders that seem to be connected.’ He looks at you and urges you to introduce yourself. ‘Ah yes of course. I’m Charlie, as DI Lestrade just said. I’m originally from Sussex but moved to Manchester for university and work. I look forward to working with all of you here in London.’ You flash them a small smile and stand up a little straighter.

Anderson immediately approaches you, Donnovan following closely behind. ‘Nice to meet you Charlie. I hope you’ll help us solve more of our own cases.’ The woman laughs at the man’s comment. ‘That’s why I’m here, yes.’ You’re already annoyed, there really wasn’t much going on in their heads. It is also clear that their affair is very much still going on. ‘Just a warning, Sherlock Holmes likes to come to our crime scenes and interrupt or take the case for himself. I recommend you stay away from him, he’s a bit of a freak.’ You take a sip of your coffee. ‘I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.’ The urge to make a snarky comment or deduce them on the spot was strong, yet you know you have to be nice, for now. You’re quiet as they start talking to each other and eventually you turn to leave and sit at your desk. Since it’s your first day, most of it is spent making sure all the ICT works, having your work phone and laptop set up and ready for you. About halfway through, you see Sherlock barging into Lestrade’s office. Of course, John follows behind. There’s some hand waving and what looks like a passionate speech from Sherlock about a case. Strategically, you decide it’s time for another cup of coffee. You straighten your shirt but leave your suit jacket draped over your chair. When Sherlock and John leave the office after a good few minutes of the DI and sociopath arguing, the doctor notices you. ‘Hi Charlie, how’s it going?’ Scanning over his form, you notice he’ll be going on a date tonight. ‘I’m well, thanks. How’s the case getting along?’ Sherlock interjects himself and answers before his friend can. ‘It’s going well. From the evidence it is quite easy to dissect that the uncle is the one that killed his nephew. Probably something to do with the inheritance of a relative. He tried to make it look like an accident though.’ You nod. It had been clear to you that that was the case when you first saw the pictures of the crime scene. ‘Quite a boring case for you then, is it not?’ John looks at you confused while Sherlock takes the opportunity to go on a tangent about which cases are interesting and which aren’t. To be fair, it is quite amusing seeing him talk so passionately. ‘Yes quite. These sort of cases are soooooooo normal nowadays, it’s almost expected to be some sort of familial issue when there’s a singular murder that doesn’t seem to be related to anything.’ John looks uncomfortable. ‘I suppose it’s only normal for that to be the case, Sherlock. Looking at the statistics most murders involve a family member or friend, they’re rarely ever random.’ You comment. ‘I know.’ He groans. ‘Well, it was nice talking to you two, I have to get back to work though.’ You see Donnovan and Anderson look at you weirdly from the corner of your eye. ‘I’ll see you two later.’ John offers you an understanding smile while Sherlock just continues talking to the other man without saying goodbye to you. It’s what you had expected, you will have to slowly have him get accustomed to your presence in his life for him to properly acknowledge you, but you know that he has noticed you and finds you somewhat interesting. From your desk, you see John eventually drags Sherlock outside and into a cab. Probably so the detective finally goes and has some food.  Quickly you get back to work.

You decided it’d be best if you stayed for a bit of overtime so you could actually make a start at your job. Due to having to wait for clearance for some things and for all the computer systems to work, you hadn’t been able to do much early in the day. Around half past seven you decide it’s time to leave. Putting on your black trenchcoat, you walk out with your briefcase in hand. As you start walking to the tube station, you see a sleek black car pull up next to you. ‘Charlie Moore.’ The window at the front seat has been opened a little bit. ‘There’s someone that wishes to talk to you, would you please get into the car?’ You nod, turn on your heel and enter the car. While you had predicted for Mycroft to approach you, this was sooner than you had expected. It excites you, but you don’t show it. You’re driven to an empty shipyard, where you’re instructed to get out of the car. A few metres from the car, you see a man holding an umbrella at his side. ‘Good evening sir.’ You greet him as you approach. ‘Good evening.’ He holds out his hand for you to shake it, and you do. His grip is firm, but not too firm. ‘Charlie Moore. But you already knew that of course.’ A faint smile creeps onto his face. ‘Now, how can I help you?’ Your inquiry seems to surprise him a bit as you retract your hand from his. ‘I noticed you moved in below the famed Sherlock Holmes.’ The way the man pronounced famed sounded quite sarcastic. ‘I barely know him, I only moved in yesterday.’ His eyes meet yours. They have a light bluish hue to them. He holds your gaze for longer than you’d predicted. Good, I’ve got his attention. ‘Yet you can still help me.’ He pauses momentarily. ‘See, I’m an interested party,’ everything seems to be going according to plan, ‘that is willing to pay a considerable sum of money on a regular basis in exchange of information.’ Running your hand through your hair, you act as if you’re thinking about it carefully. ‘And why, if I may ask, are you so interested in mister Holmes?’ Your demeanour stays professional and calculated as the conversation continues. He’s already met John and the possibility of him seeing you in or around Baker street is quite significant, so you’re hoping he reveals his own identity. Things will be easier that way. ‘I may be more inclined to help you if I know who I’m dealing with.’ He looks to be thinking, but you know he’s already made up his mind. ‘I’m Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock’s brother.’ His voice holds some disdain. You arch an eyebrow, clearly he doesn’t tend to deal with emotions. ‘Alright, I’ll keep an eye on him, here’s my card.’ You grab one of the cards Jim had Seb make for you and your new persona. ‘How often do you suppose would be optimal for us to meet?’ He glances at his assistant. ‘I think biweekly will suffice.’ You nod and shake his hand. ‘I shall keep that in mind. Feel free to phone or text me about our next appointment.’  As you walk back to the car you only think one thing:

The game is on.

[altrodent]

Hello luv I hope ur having a great day I was wondering if I could request dating headcanons for Abner Krill please 💕

Abner Krill Dating Headcannons

Pairing: Abner Krill x You

Genre/Warnings: Fluff (of the teeth rotting variety), a little bit of a spicy section but not NSFW, (Not proofread)

(A/N): Tysm for the request, I had an amazing time writing this, and I hope you like it!🩷

When you first met:

He was extremely shy, would only occasionally look your way. He was intimidated when you tried spending time with him, but he quickly realized why; you’re the only person to not look like his mother. This was odd, he wasn’t used to this but, after taking leap out of his comfort zone and waving back to you- hell even smiling while he did it- he never could go back. From then on he had this biggest gushiest crush on you, wether he liked it or not

When he asked you out:

He was nervous, as to be expected, but one day when you were talking about random interests with each other he brought up the topic of relationships… he had mentioned he’s never been on a date before, and when you consoled him, he asked if you would take him on one. You could never say no to his cute face, so you said yes, and went on the date with him. Though you didn’t go out shopping, or eat at a 5 star restaurant, you two enjoyed each others company watching classical films and eating as much takeout as you desired. He ended up falling asleep later into the date, which lead to the most comfy sleep he has had in years… it was just the two of you, cuddling on the couch, in a blissful sleepy oblivion. And it couldn’t get any better

The little things:

Abner is very introverted, around you he can open up a little, be more open about his thoughts and feelings. He rarely thanks you for it with words, but he repays you for it with actions. He’ll wash your hair in the shower, or do the dishes when it’s supposed to be your turn, he’ll give you a massage if you’ve had a rough day. When he does things like this, it’s very easy to reciprocate your feelings as well. He loves it when you rub his back and take care of him when he has to expel his dots, he loves it when you patch up his wounds, no matter how small they are, he loves it when you kiss the top bit of his cheek right near his eye when he cries… he loves you.

Nicknames:

He loves it when you give him cute nicknames or pet names. Some of his favorites include Ab, Abbie, my hero, handsome, honey, and on occasion dotty. While he loves the cute nicknames, he does his best to make some for you, with trial and error, but no matter how silly he thinks they are you eat them up. Some of his favorites for you include, love, darling, honey, sweetie, sugar, my love, and beloved. He rarely gets creative with his names, but he does love being able to share them with you.

Jealousy:

He isn’t a man of words, as we know, but when he catches another man looking at you in public, he immediately tries and make it more obvious that you’re holding hands. If that doesn’t work then he’ll try and get you away from that person. When he gets jealous he gets embarrassed, but you honestly adore how much he cares about you, and shower him with love when you two get home. Now, if someone does more than look, let’s say touches your arm flirtatiously, or talks to you inappropriately, he takes action. He’ll step in between you two and just talk to you, most often he’ll just ask you about something near you, like if you were at a bar he’d ask about your favorite drink. If that fails and the man confronts him, he will not hesitate to fight, wether it’s verbally or physically. Let’s just say there has been a scrap here or there between him and creepy guys who were being weird towards you, but even if he fights sometimes you go home and patch him up. Once he’s stopped bleeding, you’ll usually tell him that what he did was stupid… but that you still love him, and appreciate that he stood up for you.

When he went to Belle Reve:

Now, while you aren’t evil or have super cool powers like Abner, when he went to Bell Reve you couldn’t just sit down and wait for him to be released. Hell how long would he be in there for? So, you did what any rational person would do… commit the crime with him. Was it a smart idea? No, but as cold and heartless as Amanda Waller was, you were the only person who could get him to talk, or even get him to leave his cell. When Abner, the other members, and you were called upon to be “Task Force X” You both took the opportunity. For most of the mission peacemaker, or pissmaker when you were annoyed at him, would constantly try to flirt with you or make fun of you two. Luckily for him, colonel flag had defended you plenty, and just the right amount of defense making it so that peacemaker wouldn’t end up with a fist in his ass. Now, after getting hurt, getting drunk, and trying to kill a giant starfish, you ended up saving his life. He was petrified when he realized what just happened. Since then he has been forever in your debt.

Intimacy:

Throughout your relationship, there were times where he has felt rather infatuated with you, more than usual. He loves it when you wear his sweaters around the house, preferably with that and just your (or his) underwear. He puts intimacy in many small things, which sometimes catches you off guard. When you do the dishes, he’ll sometimes stand behind you and place kisses in your hair or on your neck. When he sits on the couch, he’ll even open his legs and give you a space to sit… now you’re not entirely sure if he knows how he makes you feel when he does that, but it’s hot… and you’re not complaining. When you go to bed he loves spooning, on rough days, he loves to be little spoon. When he’s feeling more clingy, he loves it when you both tangle your limbs in a big mess and just feel as close as you possibly could be.

[sprinklesdonut15]

Character Stuff I’m Personally Knowledgeable About

There are good and bad stims - By stims I mean that burst of energy or ticks that you usually hear about in autistic people. There are happy stims, nervous stims, etc. But sometimes they can be harmful, even if they’re happy, because in reality it’s kind of like an uncontrollable energy

Some people really hate their glasses - I have a mild prescription so I can afford to take them off. And I do. All the time. I push them up all the time. I can see every smudge. Every. Smudge. They get in the way sometimes. They get tangled in my hair. Glasses are annoying

Depression comes in waves - Most people I know have depression and most people know about it already. But for those who don’t - the internet isn’t lying about being happy while you’re depressed. And depressive episodes aren’t all the same, they can be different, like every episode for me doesn’t always mean I stop eating, just most episodes are like that. Nothing about it falls into one stereotype

Anything abnormal hurts - okay this one isn’t always true. Personally my feet are not how they’re supposed to be and I have to wear bigger shoes and either way it usually hurts. Walking a lot hurts. Anything about my body that isn’t normal usually hurts, even if it’s not visibly any different

Tinnitus is also annoying - I can tell you that the constant ringing fades. But I can also say that there are just like random bursts of awful ringing as if a bomb just went off next to me. Yes this is painful. It doesn’t last long but personally I can’t hear anything much while it’s happening either.

Some stereotypes are close to true - specifically adhd, you hear it’s more than just “oh look a squirrel” and while yes this is true and applies to me, I am still absolutely the “look it’s a squirrel” type. And the mood swings are crazy

Also in general when are girls (and yes the long list of transwomen and no binary folk etc) ever inconvenienced by periods in their stories? Y’all look that shit up especially you men everything you think you know about periods is probably fucking wrong