#this is just me writing about my own coffee habits at this point

[luv-lock]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ PERFECT LIFE 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

☆ ── 𝘗𝘈𝘐𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎 : Yandere Damian Wayne x Fem Reader

☆ ── HEADCANON : 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥?

☆ ── NOTE : 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!

Marriage with Damian Wayne is not a fairytale—it’s an obsession disguised as devotion.

From the moment Damian slipped that ring onto your finger, he silently swore to himself that no force in the world—be it man, god, or monster—would ever take you away from him. You are his, and he is yours. Completely.

Damian is the kind of husband who worships you in his own intense, borderline overbearing way. He refers to you as "beloved" in private and "my wife" with a possessive pride when speaking to others. The word "you" leaves his lips like a prayer, filled with reverence and authority all at once.

He memorizes every single one of your habits and preferences. He knows how you take your coffee, the exact temperature you prefer for your showers, the kinds of books you gravitate toward, and even the way your breathing changes when you're upset. It’s all cataloged in his mind so he can anticipate your every need before you even voice it.

Damian rarely lets you out of his sight. Even when he's at Wayne Enterprises or patrolling Gotham as Batman, his mind is constantly on you. He has cameras in the house to check in on you, and you can bet he’s hacked your phone to keep tabs on your location. He tells himself it’s for your safety, but the truth is he can’t bear the thought of not knowing where you are.

You’ve noticed how Damian often hovers. At first, it felt sweet—your husband leaning against the kitchen counter, silently watching as you cook dinner. But after a while, you realize it’s less about affection and more about possessiveness. He watches you like a hawk, as if ensuring you’ll never slip away from him.

Damian is fiercely protective, to the point of paranoia. You’ve never had to lift a finger in defense because he handles every perceived threat with ruthless efficiency. Some guy at work who got a little too friendly? Fired and blacklisted within the week. A stranger who made you uncomfortable in public? Let’s just say they’ll think twice before crossing anyone again.

He insists on walking you everywhere, hand firmly clasped around yours. When you protest, he coolly reminds you, "The streets of Gotham are not safe, beloved. Allow me this privilege."

Damian is terrifyingly romantic in the most intense, Damian Wayne way possible. He fills your home with rare flowers imported from across the globe, but you’ll find out later he had the entire shipment rerouted because he didn’t want anyone else to have them. He writes poetry about you in Arabic, his handwriting bold and precise, and hides the pages in places he knows you’ll find them.

Arguments with Damian can be draining because he does not let go. He won’t shout or lose his temper, but he will dissect the situation until you either agree with him or admit defeat. And if you try to storm off mid-fight? Good luck. He’s faster, stronger, and determined not to let you leave unresolved.

His softer moments are almost disarming. You’ll catch him staring at you when you’re reading or brushing your hair, and he looks so boyish and in love that it takes your breath away.

Damian is obsessed with physical contact. Whether it’s his hand resting on the small of your back, his arm draped over your shoulders, or his fingers intertwined with yours, he’s always touching you. It’s both grounding for him and a subtle way to remind himself—and everyone else—that you’re his.

Your wardrobe slowly changes under Damian’s influence. He loves seeing you in luxurious silks and soft cashmere, claiming you deserve only the finest. He buys you dresses and jewelry that scream wealth and power, though he always insists that nothing could ever truly compare to your beauty.

He doesn’t tolerate secrets between you two—at all. If you’re upset, he’ll press and press until you spill your feelings, his voice gentle but firm. And if you ever lie to him? He’ll know instantly. He won’t get angry, but his silent disappointment will cut deeper than any words ever could.

Damian spoils you to the extreme, but there’s an undertone of control in it. He doesn’t say it outright, but you know he expects a certain level of reciprocation: your attention, your love, your time.

When he sleeps (if he sleeps), his arm is always around your waist. If you ever wake up in the middle of the night and try to leave the bed, he’ll instinctively pull you back, murmuring, “Stay with me, habibti.”

Despite his obsession, Damian loves you deeply and wholeheartedly. In his own way, he truly believes he’s doing what’s best for you—protecting you, cherishing you, making you feel adored. And in those quiet, tender moments when he presses a kiss to your forehead and whispers how much you mean to him, you can’t help but believe it too.

But deep down, you know: Damian doesn’t just love you. He owns you. And he will never let you go.

𝒍𝒖𝒗-𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 ☆ 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[fairysongs]

౨ৎ coming home too late﹕spencer reid .ᐟ

summary: based entirely on the song, coming home by beabadoobee. pure fluff.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

includes: soooo much fluff, spencer’s pov, spencer is in love with reader, reader is just as in love with him, very small mention of depression, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader loves to clean, established relationship, derek morgan is spencer and reader's #1 fan, did i mention spencer is in love?

word count: 1.7k

a/n: eeeek my second fic!! i got so happy writing this. maybe the most sickening sweet thing i ever did do. i love beabadoobee's music so much i kinda wanna write a million different things based on her songs. Anyways..!!! as always likes/reblogs/feedback appreciated :3

spencer reid had never felt more relieved to be sitting inside this jet than he was right now.

sure, he’s happy every single time his team is able to wrap up a case. he’s happy every single time they catch the bad guy. he’s happy every single time justice is brought to victims and their families. he’s happy every single time he gets to come home and see you. he’s happy every single time he notices the way your eyes light up when you see him walk through the door. he’s happy every single time you throw your arms around his neck and he gets to pick you up, inhaling your sweet scent as if he’d never be able to embrace you again.

but this time it was a little different. it was currently 6:54pm in california where the latest case was. meaning it was 9:54pm back home. it would take approximately five hours to fly home and another thirty minutes to drive to his apartment. meaning he wouldn’t step through his door until way after three in the morning and he knew you’d be sound asleep by then. and it was saturday, a day that never held much weight to him until he started living with you.

he found out that you grew up with a rather strict routine in your home. your parents deemed every saturday ‘cleaning day’. every saturday you did your weekly chores and that habit stuck with you as you moved on to live with college roommates, on your own and eventually with spencer.

he remembers when he first asked you to move in with him. you’d been dating for about a year and a half at that point. he brought it up in a rather nonchalant way and he was so thankful you were not a profiler and couldn’t tell how hard his heart was beating inside his chest as he started to ask.

“you know… you sleepover here a lot. i mean, you have your own drawer in my dresser, your own space in my closet…” he started one morning, sipping from his mug of sugary sweet coffee. “your skincare stuff in my bathroom, your special shampoos in my shower… your little treats stocked in my fridge…” his lips started twitching, trying to fight the stupid large smile that wanted to show on his face.

you hummed in response, your fingers tapping against your own mug that was full of tea. you hated coffee. when he learned that he bought a box of your favorite tea and kept it stocked in his kitchen. “are you… complaining?” you asked, voice sort of quiet with uncertainty.

he shook his head immediately, realizing he wasn’t being as straightforward as he assumed. “no!” his voice squeaked slightly, causing you to raise your eyebrows. “no… no, i was just… i mean, you spend so much time here and i really love it. i love you being here with me and i… if you wanted to move in i would… i mean, i want you to move in. if you want to. please.”

thankfully your heart was just as pretty as you were and you didn’t let him nervously ramble for too long. instead you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “relax. i’d love to, spencer. but i have to warn you, i’m quite a lot to deal with twenty-four seven…” he would just stare back at you, with nothing but love and admiration pouring from brown hues. he always thought you were so silly when you’d say things like that and he’d spend the rest of the morning telling you that while peppering sweet kisses to every inch of your skin.

he did learn very quickly just how serious you were about your routine. you woke up at six in the morning every saturday. you’d start in the bathroom, then make your way to the kitchen, then collect the dirty laundry from the week, then focus on organizing every little desk and shelf he had in his home. at first you wouldn’t let him help you, explaining that you didn’t want him to feel obligated in helping you with your own crazy little habit. he’d shake his head and just ask you what kind of laundry detergent you liked as he piled clothes into a basket.

“if you keep up with it weekly, then it won’t get out of hand and too big to fix.” you mumbled one time while scrubbing the dishes. “sometimes when the scaries got really bad, i used to forget to keep up with my cleaning. all the mess just made things more unbearable. keeping on top of it makes me feel more in control. even if the ‘cleaning’ one week is just refilling the toilet paper and doing one single load of laundry.”

he nodded his head in response, emptying the trash beneath the sink. spencer was nothing but soft with you, but even more so whenever you mentioned your struggles with depression or ‘the scaries’ as you called it. the two of you quickly fell into a habit every single saturday. you split the work load. you’d do the dishes, he’d carry the trash out, you’d fold the laundry, he’d vacuum the rug. he didn’t have to say it, you’d already know, but he enjoyed the structure of routine just as much as you did. the rest of your saturdays were spent on the sofa, your head in his lap while you forced him to watch your favorite childhood show. takeout food spread across the coffee table in front of you. there was so much comfort the two of you found in the domesticity of it all.

so, yes, he was a little bit upset he missed this saturday and was so ready to get home and pull you into his arms and never let go. he hadn’t noticed him spacing out, eyes focused on the same page of a book he was reading for five minutes, until he heard derek morgan’s voice.

“hey, loverboy!” spencer’s head snapped up, brows furrowing at the man giving him a cheeky smile. “you’ve been staring at that page for an eternity. what’s on your mind, huh?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

you met the whole team ages ago and every one of them adored you but derek especially admired the way you loved spencer. he’d never say it out loud, unless it was in a teasing way to get spencer to blush, but he genuinely believed you were an angel sent to the boy genius. derek noticed how blissful you made him, how gentle you were and how safe he felt with you. how could his heart not swell in appreciation for the love you gave to his brother?

“i missed cleaning day…” spencer spoke, brows pulling together slightly. there was a soft sigh that fell from his lips as he pulled his phone from his pocket. your last text saying you were gonna stay up and wait for him even though you both knew that you’d fall asleep the moment you got comfortable.

“okay… and is that a bad thing?” derek responded, leaning back into his seat with a slightly confused expression.

“well, yeah. she likes cleaning every saturday and we normally split the work between us. that way we have more time to spend together.” spencer huffed and tucked his phone away again. he closed the book he was reading. “it’s more than just the cleaning, derek. i hate being away from her, you know? we never know when we’re gonna get called away on a case like this and i like spending as much time as i can with her. and i hate coming home late. it makes me feel like i’ve missed so much.”

derek breathed out a laugh but nodded, understanding all too well what he meant. emily prentiss came around the corner, one hand holding a cup of coffee and the other resting gently on spencer’s shoulder. “spencer reid, you have become the most smitten, lovestruck man since you met that girl. and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.” everyone on the jet chuckled softly at that, even aaron hotchner, while he blushed and adverted his eye contact towards the shaded window. he knew they weren’t laughing at him, more so showing an expression of how happy they were that he was happy.

he stepped into the dimly lit living room of his apartment at exactly 3:26am. the tv glowed over your sleeping body on the sofa, arms wrapped tightly around a stuffed red panda he gifted you a few birthdays ago. the netflix screen asking ‘are you still watching avatar: the last airbender?’ shined in his face as he leaned in to shut the machine off. he walked over to your sleepy state, a tiny smile growing on his lips as he leaned in to brush some of your hair from your face. he tucked one arm beneath your knees and held the other one to your arm as he carried you to the bedroom.

you stirred, humming softly as he quietly shushed you. “shh, hi baby. i’m home now. go back to bed, yeah?”

“how was the flight?” you asked in a soft whisper, ignoring his requests. he chuckled, shaking his head and he set you gently on the cushion of his mattress.

“it was fine. too long. i’m sorry i’m home late.” he was just as quiet as you, pulling the duvet over your body and tucking it at your shoulders. he picked up the stuffed animal that had fallen beside the bed and tucked it next to you as well.

“it’s okay. we always have tomorrow.” with your eyes still closed, you smiled as he kissed your forehead.

“yes, my love. we do, don’t we? i’m gonna get changed okay? go back to bed.”

“i’ll wait for you.”

when he was changed out of his work clothes and into his pajamas, he turned back and found you soundly asleep again. he let out a quiet laugh, got into bed and pulled you right to his chest. he played with your hair until he fell asleep too, no longer upset about the day he missed with you because you were right.

he always had tomorrow.

[zomb-rabbit]

Rabbit

Rabbit I'm begging you to do stalker headcanons with Mh or EMH guys (you don't gotta ofc! But w o ah)

🐟

AAAA IM SO HAPPY U LIKED THEM !!!! I WAS RLLY HAPPY W HOW THE TOBY ONES CAME OUT :)))) also,,,, watch me hit u w ALL the guys !!!!!!!!!!!!!! (nsfw can come later if u wish fishy, i skipped it cus this is alr a super long post BFJSJFNJS) (also i got to use my rainbow dividers i have saved up cus there's so many ppl YAYYYYYYY)

[📹⛓️‍💥🚬👁️☠️🐇]

Stalker!Brian Thomas / Hoodie / Tim Wright / Masky / Evan Myers / HABIT x gn!reader headcanons :)

Brian ;

ok we know Brian likes to record

so expect there to be at least one camera on you a majority of the time

sometimes he'll leave it in a tree or placed just right behind a fence post, zoomed in on your bedroom window so he can document you and your routine even when he's busy

he's so thoughtful 😸😸😸

definitely the type to perfectly curate a "meet-cute" for the both of you, writing down the coffee place you stop off at on mondays for a pick-me-up, the stores you go to that have your favorite brand of something, he calculates his every action with you long before it's happened.

he knows what he's doing is wrong, but unlike Toby, he's not exactly ashamed of it. if anything he likes the added excitement that you could still find him out

this is one of the times him and Hoodie kind of blur together a little bit, both in morals and actions

Brian is fully willing to do whatever it takes to keep eyes on you and to keep you under his thumb and his alone; it doesn't matter who gets in his way

Hoodie ;

also a big fan of recording, but tends to get much more risky with it

likes the feeling that you might catch a little camera that's nestled in between some trinkets and books or a pile of blankets you keep on your couch

he is a creepy creeper . he wants to watch EVERYTHING

gets his feelings hurt when you close your curtains cus you feel eyes on you (you're right, but still :(()

it takes a lot to deter him from doing everything in his power to keep watch over you

he's not even sure of his own motives, really. sure, he wants to keep you safe and make sure no one else is watching you, but most of the time he's just there to watch.

you're like a doll to him, something to entertain him.

Masky ;

this isn't even part of this i just wanna say the vibe for stalker Masky (and just him in general tbh) for me feels a lot like the intro to My Meds Aren't Working by Dystopia . very slow, calculating, stuck in your own head but still zeroed in on one thing

and it's you ofc !!!!

i think Masky is one of the more scarier guys to have stalking you on this lineup honestly. hot? yes absolutely. terrifying to see constantly out of the corner of your eye, sitting at the bus stop outside your job, standing in the parking lot of the gas station by your apartment complex and staring up into your window? YES VERY

he's haunting. he doesn't go up to you, will go completely brick wall at you if you try to come up to him, and you can never tell what emotion is going on behind his eyes. the few times you've walked closer to him, likely on the street in the earlier stages, he looked hungry. like he was waiting and watching for your guard to be down to do something.

if he knows you'll be out, he'll get into your house to steal some of your clothes- likely your underwear (creepy crawler) and a sleep shirt

you will never see him without the mask on. point blank. not to smoke, eat, anything. he is not human or himself when he's around you; he needs to absorb everything about you.

i don't think of him to be the type to film you, would rather be there in person 24/7. it feels more personal to him.

Tim ;

one of the few guys that feels guilt about what he's doing- he knows how scary it is to feel watched all the time. how awful it is to find out you were right.

he’s embarrassed of himself; he’s prided himself on being stoic and independent for so long that this sudden urge to love you and watch you and know you gives him waves of shame

watches from afar, would definitely try and avoid letting himself get too close to you in person. he’s ashamed of it, but he can’t help himself- he needs you, even if at a distance. 

steals clothes you’ve slept in so he can try and satiate his yearning to be close to you without actually needing to be so vulnerable, with you or anyone

his near dependency on you reminds me of It Will Come Back by Hozier, his obsession is fed by breadcrumbs from the few in-person up close encounters he’s had with you. smiles when he comes into where you work, nervous little waves when you catch him looking at you at the store, soft 'excuse me!'s when you pass by him

you drive him up a wall (lovingly)

Evan ;

Evan feels guilty, but for the ‘wrong’ reasons

i say ‘wrong’ because he’s more concerned with you inevitable introduction to the whole Habit mess, not with the morals of stalking and obsessing over you

despite his guilt, he can’t get enough of you. his persistence rivals Brian's; it’s almost immediate that he tries to get you with him

latches onto you for fear of you leaving- honestly less of a stalker and more on the obsessive side. not good at keeping his hands to himself. 

you might be one of the only cases where he tries to bargain and/or work with Habit, in an attempt to keep you safe or keep you near him out of desperation if you're not listening to him when he tries to convince you to stay with him essentially 25/8

touchy obsessive little critter . give him what he wants before he goes sicko mode (being 10 feet away from you at all times)

Habit ;

does not hide himself AT ALL

will actively be letting you know he's watching

seeing him behind you in mirrors, rabbit motifs everywhere, a random blood splatter in plain sight that no one else seems to see.

he watches, he knows, and he learns

what things make you the most paranoid, all the ways he can slowly introduce himself in a more. friendly light to get you to trust him. to love him.

he's what's best for you, whether you like it or not. it just might take some time for you to get there

ironically for him, think 'The Best Is Yet To Come' by Frank Sinatra. it's just a matter of time before things get so much better. for the both of you, of course!

[kazucee]

! WITH GENTLE HANDS TO HOLD.

(the gentle scholar who's completely smitten for you: soft/fluffy Veritas Ratio relationship HCs)

AN: the brainrot is hard with this one boys. Think of this as a pre-hc post before I post the Reca fic that I have yet to write the ending for. Also possibly ooc TT? IDC JUST GIVE ME SOFT DOWN BAD MEN.

The gentle scholar to your dismay has always been an early riser. Making it a habit to wake up before you and running through his morning routine like clockwork. You're not even surprised when you awake to the other side of the bed completely empty but the aroma of the breakfast he makes for you instantly draws your attention away from the lack of body heat (or lack of a body in general). Despite you constantly waking up cold you're always greeted by a warm delicious breakfast, a cup of coffee brewed just the way you like it, and him freshly showered and smelling of cedarwood and mint. He always makes it a point to eat breakfast with you (if he's not busy that is). Occasionally you'd try to wake up early with him, setting an alarm beforehand with the most obnoxious sounds to get you to wake up. Usually it doesn't work, waking up almost everyone in the entire galaxy except you. Unless you requested for him to specifically wake you up at this time, he'll always let you sleep in and let you wake up on your own accord. He finds your resting state oddly endearing and would often spend the first five minutes of his morning routine just admiring you.

He has found out that the most effective way to wake you up is through the simple act of kissing your forehead, something he does everyday without fail. It doesn't matter if you're sick or mad at him, he'll still do it. It starts with a small peck, then a press of his own forehead against your own, then a small murmur of ‘good morning’ before one last chaste kiss to the skin between your eyes.

Coffee in the morning was a sacred time for you both. He has your preferences mastered and takes his time to make it according to your taste. He brews the coffee first before going to wake you up so that they'd have time to cool down and so that you'd wake up to the scent of freshly grounded coffee beans (which he knows you love)

He ironically likes matcha (though he still prefers coffee more) and gets offended whenever you label it as 'sweet grass water', that leads to you both getting into a 20 minute debate over whether or not it is worth the hype. He's dead serious. So are you.

He will never leave the apartment without saying goodbye to you. It's either verbally or through the form of a sticky note saying 'see you tonight my love'.

He is genuinely interested and often invested in your interests. Being with a man who values knowledge has its ups, whenever you find a new thing to obsess about you immediately have a person by your corner who's willing to listen to all your rambles. He'd definitely educate himself on the matter as well and help you do deep dives and research about it (it's both of your past times). He likes it because it makes you happy and because it's technically something new to learn about. He loves finding new topics to talk to you about and he always wants to make sure he's intellectual enough to actively engage in a proper conversation with you.

PLANS. OUT. YOUR. DATES. (IDC WHAT Y'ALL SAY) he will be the type to have memorized all your favorite places, where to take you when you're craving something savory, where to take you when you're feeling depressed. He does the work and probably has a physical copy of all the fun places he could take you on depending on your mood. Now he can easily figure out what places you'd want to try out and which ones to actively avoid.

He is the epitome of self-care (BRO HAS A LITERAL LIGHTCONE WHERE HES IN A BUBBLE BATH) you both have days where you just soak in a bubble bath with him reading a book and you relaxing against him, occasionally he'd read to you. Face masks? Yes. Nail care? Sure why not? He loves doing self care things with you (or just spending time with you in general, the soft skin is a bonus)

Would often gift you novels or books that he knows you'll enjoy. You'll be pleasantly surprised to see his handwriting on the margin because he had annotated it beforehand, and to your dismay he will quiz for fun on the book from time to time to test if you actually read it (you always do.)

He's not big on matching clothing but would get matching jewelery, he doesn't wanna hide that he's obsessed with you but he doesn't want to flex or show you off like you are some kind of object. He would get you both matching rings, matching bracelets, matching necklaces, and will always wear them without fail. He's usually subtle about it but whenever anyone asks him about them he'd answer you.

He ironically likes calling you pet names darling, love, idiot (endearingly), but he loves your name, he's probably the type to know the meaning behind your name as well.

Dating him is not spoiler free unfortunately, he will accidentally spoil the end of a movie or book because he's already read the reviews of it online, and has watched the analysis of it before watching it with you.

Also will commentate on the movie: "that's dumb why didn't she just-"

LOVES TO ARGUE WITH YOU, he doesn't care if you're degrading him in the most foul way. He will relish you getting angry and starting fights.

HE WILL. NEVER. RAISE HIS VOICE AT YOU. it'll always be that stupidly calm yet smug one, he is a firm believer in the 'loudest voice doesn't mean you win the argument' idea and he goes by that a lot. He can be condescending however, the type that makes you want to punch his stupid face.

"such unfortunate language. only those who cannot express themselves intelligently would resort to such crude substitutions in vocabulary" — Ratio at some point (he was losing the argument)

Begrudgingly allowed you to paint on his white alabaster sculpture that he sometimes wears, there's a trace of you everywhere on him, the design changes from time to time. He probably made you one as well.

He keeps all the gifts and letters you give him in a special box and has a picture of you on his person every time.

He probably has tabs on everything, the date of your first kiss, the date of your first date, your favorite color. It's all inside a little notebook.

Doesn't even need to say I love you because his eyes say it all, he looks at you as if you had placed all the stars in the sky. it's a subtle look but over the time you were able to identify it.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Merry Christmas, Dad. - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley's step-daughter doesn't know what to get him for Christmas, until she comes up with the perfect idea.

A/N: More Christmas morning fluff, this time for our favourite aviator with Daddy issues. This is my third of three six (I like Christmas, ok?) entries for @sailor-aviator's Christmas Writing Challenge to celebrate the holidays with our favourite aviators. Also, I know it's not my best, but I had a dream last night about stepdad!Bradley and I ran with it.

pairing:  Bradley Bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: adoption inaccuracies, Bradley has a ten year old stepdaughter, fluff

word count: 1.4k

“Mom, can I ask you something?”

You hummed as you looked up from the article you were reading on your phone and smiled softly at your ten year old daughter, Kennedy. Kennedy nervously fidgeted with her hands as she waited for your response, copying your own nervous habit of biting the inside of your cheek whenever there was a discussion you were scared to have. 

“Do you think Bradley would mind if I started calling him “dad”?” Kennedy’s voice was quiet, her eyes shifting their gaze to the floor as she waited for your response.

You and Bradley had dated since Kennedy was 5, she knew a life before he came along, and she’d always called him Bradley - when she was younger, it was simply out of ease for the two of them. You didn’t want to complicate things or pressure her or Bradley into forming a father-daughter relationship that they may not have wanted, especially if anything had broken down between you and Bradley. The last thing you wanted was to leave Kennedy with the sting of two father figures walking out of her life, even though part of you always knew that, had you and Bradley ever split up, he’d never just walk away from Kennedy. Despite the first-name basis your daughter was on with him, he adored her like she was his own. He was there for every moment he could be from the day he met her, wanting to make sure she had the father he didn’t growing up. He wanted to be everything his dad would have been to him, and being that for Kennedy meant the world to him. 

“I think he’d love that, sweetheart, do you want to start calling him that?” You nodded your head, raising an eyebrow at your daughter as you sipped your coffee.

“I do. I, uh, hmmph,” Kennedy frowned, clearly struggling to find the words she was looking for, “I talked to Dad last weekend about it,” she finally said, nodding her head slowly as she spoke.

Kennedy and her biological father had a strained relationship, Kennedy only visiting him due to the court-ordered custody arrangement in place governing visitation rights until she reached 12 years of age. Kennedy hated leaving to go stay with him, she never felt comfortable being with her father’s new family that he’d replaced her and her mom with, but she did it reluctantly every weekend, after a chat with Bradley reminded her that despite everything that had happened between Kennedy’s biological parents, her father still deserved to see her once in a while, until Kennedy was old enough to make that choice for herself. 

“You talked to your dad? How did that go?” 

“Well…I told him that I wanted to start calling Bradley my dad too, he was sort of ok with it, but, I also told him that, I, uh…” Her voice trailed off again as she chewed the inside of her cheek once again, to the point where you were almost concerned about how nervous she was. 

“Kennedy, baby, this is about more than just asking to call Bradley your dad, isn’t it?”

Kennedy slowly nodded her head and pulled out a stack of papers from her school notebook before setting them on the table in front of you. Your eyes skimmed over the words typed out across the page, a State of California emblem emblazoned on the top. 

“Kennedy, where did you get these?” You said slowly, trying to process what your daughter was hinting at.

“The internet. It’s not hard to find them. I want Bradley to sign them for me. Dad said it was ok.”

“Your father ok’d this?” You raised your eyebrows in disbelief as you read the paperwork over once more.

“He said if it would make me happy, then he was ok with it,” Kennedy stated matter-of-factly as she nodded her head.

“Mom, I want Bradley to adopt me.” 

You bit your lip and nodded your head, fighting back tears that threatened to spill from your eyes as you listened to your daughter. A smile formed on your face as you made eye contact with Kennedy, whose own eyes were starting to fill up with tears as she waited for your reaction.

“Kennedy, you know Bradley would be honoured by that,” You finally said, pulling Kennedy in tightly for a hug.

“Do you think I should give them to him as a Christmas present?” She said thoughtfully, pulling her head back to look at you for a moment. 

“I think that might be the best Christmas present you could give him, Kennedy.”

 A few weeks later, Kennedy proudly stuck a gift box under the tree for each of her parents. She grinned over at her mother as the pair waited for Bradley to come down the stairs after his usual morning shower. Kennedy took her seat on the couch with her stocking in hand as she began unwrapping the items inside, waiting not-so-patiently for Bradley to emerge in his sleep pants and sweatshirt. Finally, you could hear his heavy footsteps coming down the wooden stairs, the stairs making their usual creaking sound under Bradley’s frame as he bounded down them. You kissed his cheek and handed him his coffee before smiling at him. Bradley looked at you both, his lips curling up into a grin from under his mustache. 

“There’s my two favourite girls. Get anything good in your stocking from the Big Guy, Kennedy?” Bradley chuckled as he raised his coffee mug in gesture to the stocking at Kennedy’s feet.

“Braaaaaadleeeeeyyyy,” Kennedy groaned as she huffed and rolled her eyes, “I’m not a little kid, I know it was you who put the stockings out.”

“Me?!” Bradley exclaimed in faux-surprise, “Trust me, I may fly a jet, but I’m no Santa.”

You and Kennedy rolled your eyes in unison as Bradley grinned at you from behind his coffee cup, taking a sip of the warm, creamy brown liquid as he watched Kennedy open a gift. Bradley took his usual seat - his favourite old worn-out lazy boy recliner chair that he’d brought with him when the two of you moved in together. At first you’d protested its mere existence in your home, but, Bradley had insisted you’d grow to love it, and naturally, he wasn’t wrong. It was the chair he and Kennedy used to snuggle up in when she was small, where he’d teach her the rules of baseball and football as they watched games together. Where he’d sit to read to her each night when she was little, proudly taking on the role of professional storyteller for the household. It was the chair where he sat every birthday and every Christmas morning, watching Kennedy open her presents expectantly, watching in anticipation for her reaction every time.

Finally, after the number of presents remaining unopened under the tree had dwindled to just one, Kennedy looked to you with a smirk before scooping the box up in her hand and passing it to Bradley with a grin, trying her best to keep herself from giving the gift away with her reaction alone.

“Here, Bradley, this one’s for you!” She said as she nodded her head, stepping back for a moment as Bradley opened it.

“It’s…an envelope?” Bradley laughed softly and raised his eyebrow, “Kiddo, you got me an envelope? How did you know I needed one of these?!” He teased as he gave her a playful pat on the arm.

Kennedy rolled her eyes and laughed as Bradley opened the envelope. He paused for a moment to read the papers in his hand. As the realization hit him Bradley quickly raised his hand to his face, using a finger to wipe away a tear. He looked up at Kennedy in disbelief and shook his head as he began grinning at her.

“Kennedy, kiddo, you mean it? You want me to adopt you?” Bradley’s voice cracked as he spoke. He was never overly emotional like this, but, you knew that the little girl he’d practically raised for the last five years asking him to adopt her would be one of those few instances that would evoke tears from him. 

“I mean it…Dad.” 

Bradley set the envelope down on the table in front of him and threw his arms around Kennedy, pulling her in for one of his famously tight hugs. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a gentle, nurturing kiss before looking down at her. 

“I love you, kiddo. You wanting me to be your dad means more to me than any award or rank the US Navy could ever give me, you know that?”

[holylulusworld]

The assistant (11) - Heating pads and cupcakes

Summary: You are invisible most of the time.

Pairing: Former!Boss!Steve Rogers x Former!Assistant(plussized)!Reader

Possible pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader, Curtis Everett x Reader, Ari Levinson x Reader, Andy Barber x Reader, Mike Weiss x Reader, Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: flirty CEvans characters, language, plus-sized/chubby reader, protective brothers, Lloyd being Lloyd, arguments, brothers being brothers, fluff, caring brother

A/N: I was on my period while writing this. So, I would like you to please bear with me.

The assistant masterlist

The assistant (10) - Apologies

“Tell me, sugar. How did you meet my brothers?” Ransom sits on one of the chairs at the kitchen counter to watch you, Jake and Mike make breakfast for the hungry pack.

“Do not talk to Y/N,” Jake warns. “I don’t know why Andy even called you. We can handle Captain Asshole on our own.”

“Captain Turd,” Lloyd corrects while walking inside the kitchen. “I think I established the name yesterday.” He grins at Steve who sits at the kitchen table. Steve sips the coffee from the café around the corner and tries to stomach the dry bagel he bought.

“Boys, play nice,” you tut and point the spatula at Lloyd. “We do not fight within these walls. Lloyd, that goes for you too. Have a seat. Coffee is ready and we are almost done preparing breakfast.”

“Uh-huh,” Lloyd plops down on the seat closest to you. “You’re wearing my apron.” He grins.

“Yeah, I figured that this must be yours,” you roll your eyes as he grins like a madman.

“Kiss the cook, he wears a mustache?” Ransom huffs and shakes his head. “That mustache looks stupid on you, Lloyd. Almost as if a caterpillar died on your upper lip.”

“Kiss my ass,” Lloyd snarls in Ransom’s direction.

“Eat shit!” Ransom retorts.

“Guys,” you clap your hands. “We have a busy day ahead. Thanks to the drama you caused yesterday, I agreed to let Captain Rogers stay another day. He didn’t get the chance to see anything but a bunch of idiots fighting each other.”

“Idiots?” Lloyd pouts. “I'm not an idiot. Andy started this. It’s not my fault my brother is an idiot.”

“Lloyd, we do not punch people, and we don’t call them idiots,” you tut. “I told you, no more fighting or I’ll hide your expensive mustache wax for a week. Your mustache will be all fuzzy without it.”

“Cupcake, did you steal my wax?” Lloyd gapes at you. “I didn’t take you for a thief, missy. You better not make it a habit.” He looks at you wearing his apron. “Or make it a habit. I like me a bad girl.”

“She’s got a very good lawyer on her side,” Andy casually walks inside the kitchen. He’s hiding the bruises his brother caused with a brand-new shirt and tie. “I will leave for a few hours. I trust you to not kill each other.”

Lloyd glares at his brother Ransom before he says, “I can’t promise anything. You brought this piece of shit into our house.”

“Lloyd!” He made it. You hand the spatula to Mike, asking him to watch the last pancake to round the kitchen island and slap Lloyd’s ass. He yelps but purrs your name. “No swear words at our home, Lloyd!”

“Our…home!” Jake, Mike, Lloyd, Ari, Andy, and Curtis who just walked inside the kitchen, stare at you in awe. They smile, and then, you end up wrapped in too many pairs of arms.

“GUYS! I can’t breathe!” You protest but it's no use. You get hugged again and again until you feel dizzy.

“Hey, what’s your role in this drama?” Ransom turns around to look at Steve while his brothers are all over you. “Damn, aren’t you Captain America?” He slides off his chair to get a better look at Steve sulk in a corner. “Wait…what is Captain America doing here?”

“They kidnapped my assistant,” Steve grumbles while watching you hug the brothers, one after another. They laugh and joke while exclaiming that you accepted their home as your own.

“Ah, I see,” Ransom nods thoughtfully. “So, you’re unwanted here too, huh?” He grins. “Hmmm…you know. My grandmother always bragged about being related to Captain America. She was a crazy old hag, but I cannot deny you are a spitting image of my grandfather.”

“What are you mumbling about over there?” Curtis didn’t forget about Ransom’s intrusion. He’s still up to give his brother a good beating. “I see, two assholes found each other during desperate times.”

You huff. “Curtis! No swear words! We talked about swear words and impulse control last night.”

“Sorry, Sunshine,” Curtis drops his gaze and sighs. If only he’d got a few minutes alone with Ransom. He’d give his treacherous brother a few more punches.

“I get that having your brother back is scary and opened old wounds. But, you should be happy to have him in your life,” you sniffle. “You don’t get a person you love back so easily.”

“Great, now you made her cry,” Andy wraps you in his arms and runs his hand up and down your back. “They’re stubborn but will behave from now on. I promise.”

“I’m only a little emotional,” you choke out a sob. “I’m on…” You shake your head. The brothers don’t need to know that you’re on your period and almost everything makes you cry. “I saw that cat video…and the cat was so cute and…then you argued... and Mike looked like the lost kitten…It made me so happy…”

“Crap,” Lloyd snaps his fingers to get his brothers' attention. “Alright! Red alert. I repeat. Red alert.”

“What now?” Curtis rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics. “What’s wrong with you?”

Lloyd turns his head toward Curtis. “You, stop sulking and get my wallet.” Lloyd snaps at Curtis before pointing at Mike and Jake. “You two, search for any movie on any platform Y/N will like.”

He crosses his arms behind his back and marches around the kitchen. “Barber don’t get too cozy with her but keep on rubbing her back. Ari, you and Curtis will go to the bakery. We will close for the rest of the week. Get all the cupcakes and shit Jake baked. We’ll need it.”

“What’s going on?” Ransom watches his brothers hastily follow Lloyd’s order. “Where’s the fire?”

“In Y/N’s uterus. Now shut up, pretty boy, and be useful for once,” Lloyd mutters at his brother. “If you want to stay, you’ll go to the guestroom in the west wing and get me all the fluffy pillows and a warm blanket. No, make it two.”

Ransom purses his lips. He weighs his options. If he wants to be part of this family again, he must play along for now. “Fine.”

“Y/N. Cupcake,” Lloyd gently pats your hair. “What’s your favorite brand? Do you need a heating pad? What painkiller do you prefer? Lloyd will get you all you’ll need.”

Steve watches the brothers make of fuzz about your period. He rubs his chin, wondering if what he feels is more than worry.

“Good job everyone!”

Lloyd grins as you snuggle into one of the fluffy pillows. You’re wearing one of Andy’s warm sweaters and the fuzzy socks Jake got for you. Ari wrapped a warm blanket around you after Lloyd carefully put a heating pillow on your lower abdomen.

Mike chose the movies you and the brothers will watch while Andy and Jake prepared food, beverages, and sweets. Curtis is currently massaging your feet while Ransom sits on the other end of the huge U-shaped sofa.

“How do you feel,  Sweetie? Do you feel better?” Jake sits next to your head to gently pat your hair. Do you need anything else?”

“Did I buy the right stuff?” Lloyd asks. He sits on the sofa and stretches his legs out. “Damn, I didn’t know there are so many lady products out there.”

“I’m good,” you murmur and snuggle further into the pillow. The brothers took very good care of you. No one ever put so much into making you feel good. “See, if you work together, you can do anything.”

“So…this is what you do? Getting lady products and feeding a sexy girl with cupcakes,” Ransom grins. “I think I could get used to this…”

“No one asked you,” Curtis huffs. He’s still angry at Ransom for leaving them. Especially, because he used to look up Ransom when he was a kid. Curtis and Ransom shared a special bond, and now, it's broken.

“No more fighting tonight,” Andy stops the brothers from arguing again. “We have a plan, don’t we.” He subtly points at Steve watching you and the brothers from his seat. He chose to sit on an armchair, still not convinced that the brothers did not mean harm to you.

Ransom stares at Steve. He rubs his chin and wonders aloud. “Back to Captain America. Isn’t it odd that he looks so much like Grandfather Steven?”

Part 12

Tags in reblog.

[ddejavvu]

omg I BEG of u to write a fic about the thing anon mentioned about dbf obi-wan 😭 /nf maybe reader is like anakin's age and her master is yoda.

i also think it would be really interesting if reader tends to be quite similar to her master yoda where she's usually calm and collected and zen and all that, but just cant keep her head clear when obi-wan's around NFNAJFJSKDB i'm already blushing just thinking about it!!! i just know you'd write this beautifully!!! /gen

Brewing and serving a perfect pot of tea is something inescapable as Grandmaster Yoda's padawan. You'd been trained in proper steeping rituals before you were ever trained in lightsaber combat, and you take a bit of pride in your craft even though it's a skill most might consider less-than-impressive in the overall catalogue of a Jedi's skills.

All of that is why you should not have dropped the teapot you'd been carrying upon seeing your master's houseguest, but Master Kenobi catches it with wide eyes and a steady hand. The teapot hovers mere inches above the ground, giving you a measly two seconds to gather your composure before a twitch of Master Kenobi's hand lifts it back up onto the tray you're miraculously still carrying.

You have very un-Jedi-like feelings towards Master Kenobi. You'd never thought much of him- nor anyone for quite some time, but you'd travelled outside of the temple, spent time on other planets, socialized with hundreds of different people in the galaxy, and the auburn-haired man in front of you has recently topped the charts of people you would be attracted to, if you weren't a Jedi forbidden from attachment.

"Sorry." You stammer, heart hammering in your chest from a mix of adrenaline and something else you refuse to name, "I- I lost my balance."

Your master snorts from his place on his tea cushion, a tiny thing at the head of the coffee table where you set the tea tray, "Uncoordinated, you are today, Padawan."

"Yes, Master." You agree miserably, pouring tea for Masters Yoda and Kenobi before pouring your own cup. You want to come up with an excuse, overtiredness or a troubling class assignment on your mind, but there's nothing your master won't see through.

"It's quite alright, dear." Master Kenobi places a hand over your own where you set the teapot down, and your eyes dart towards his own. Your trained Jedi composure allows for you to keep your face in a neutral expression, but there's very little hiding the slight shake to your hands as you reach for the sugar.

"Anakin has a habit of spreading his mechanical projects over our carpets like we live in a junkyard. I know that they're there," The bearded Jedi master smiles, "And every morning I still step sure-footedly out of my bedroom expecting not to be impaled through the foot with a jagged wire. Jedi agility cannot completely remove natural clumsiness."

"Remove clumsiness for me, it did." Your master huffs, squeezing the sap out of some deadly looking berries and into his teacup, "A better Jedi I am, than you two."

"You tripped over your own walking stick yesterday," You point your spoon accusatorily at him, and you nearly lose your conviction when it draws a warm chuckle from Master Kenobi's throat.

"Hmmph. Disrespectful, you are." Yoda gripes, but you see through his stern facade, "Sleep outside tonight, you will."

"Master!' You shriek, nearly choking on both your laughter and your tea, "That's not fair!"

"Don't worry, dear." Master Kenobi stretches his leg out beneath the coffee table to rest against your own, "You're welcome to stay the night in my quarters if your Master kicks you to the curb." He winks, "Anakin is gone on his first solo mission, so the two of us will have plenty of room."

You know the whole thing is one big joke, and you also know that Master Kenobi's offer is nothing but platonic. But still, the invitation, the assurance that you'll be alone with plenty of room- room for what? - you're barely able to nudge his leg back teasingly and glare half-heartedly at your master.

"I'm reporting you to the Council." You decide, but your threats come out weaker than intended due to the continued press of Master Kenobi's leg against your own beneath the table, "You may be the Grandmaster, but the neglect of a padawan is serious business."

"Two nights," Master Yoda snickers, "Two nights, you will sleep outside."

You let out an exasperated groan, but the last of your composure slips away upon meeting Master Kenobi's kind gaze, his eyes twinkling with gorgeous mirth, "You can stay with me for as long as you'd like."

[fairy-writes]

Hello there 👋

I was wondering if you could write a one-shot for Uta?? Something fluffy w/ a shy/sweet human!reader 😊

Thanks in advance! 💜

DON’T YOU DARE (MAKE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU)

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Tokyo Ghoul

Pairing(s): Uta x Gender Neutral!Human!Reader

Genre(s)/Tag(s): 

Notes: Songfic with the song “Don’t You Dare (Make Me Fall in Love with You) by Kaden MacKay

__________________________________________________________________________

When Uta first realized he was in love with you, admittedly, he panicked a little. 

You were a human. He was a ghoul. It wasn’t a relationship that was supposed to work. 

He couldn’t be in love. That was just absurd. He had more exciting things on his plate than love.

Don't you dare make me fall in love with you

Don't you dare enchant me with those eyes

If I fell through your skies,

There's no way you would catch me

There's a tear in my heart,

But your patch wouldn't match me

Uta first met you when he was at Anteiku, and you happened to walk in. It was busy. Most, if not all, of the tables were full, and when you began to approach, he got an idea of what was happening. 

“Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full.” You ask shyly, and he gets the feeling that you’re nervous. Which is understandable with his appearance. He was used to it. 

He nods once, and your expression relaxes as you sit down. The tenseness of your shoulders eases, and you pull out a sketchbook and flip to a new page as Touka brings over your drink. You smile at her and whisper a “thank you.”

You sketch in silence until he feels the need to have a conversation. It’s more of a whim, really, the urge to get to know a human to learn if they’re all like the CCG and Doves. 

“What are you drawing?” He asks, and you jump. But you turn around and show him nonetheless, and he’s blown away. 

It’s rough, with stray lines in some places, but it’s a perfect picture of himself, reclining in the chair and his coffee in hand.

You even got the lettering of his tattoo around his neck right.

The longer he stares, the more fidgety you become. 

“Sorry, I can get rid of it if you want. I know it might be rude to draw other people without permission—” 

“No, no, it’s beautiful. Thank you for choosing me as a model.” He finds himself saying, and his cold heart flutters when you beam. 

You end up gifting him the picture, and after you exchange names, you leave. 

He finds your number hastily scrawled at the bottom of the drawing. 

Being near you still adds to the size of my sighs,

There's still seismic events at hellos and goodbyes,

And I still need reminders of why it's unwise

To stare

So don't you dare

The longer he thinks about it, the more he likes the idea of you becoming friends. You’re shy, but you’re sweet and a brilliant artist. You would be entertaining, at least. 

But he’s likely never to meet you again, so that idea snuffs out like a candle. So he doesn’t text you. 

At least until you walk into his shop. 

You are admiring one of his masks on display when he enters the room from the back. He had heard the door jingle but wanted to finish some of the final stitching of the current mask he was working on. It was for the new half-ghoul Kaneki Ken. But that was beside the point. 

What were you doing here?

Don't you dare make me fall in love with you

Don't you dare do something so cliché

Just get out of my daydreams,

You're an unwelcome guest

And stop making me miss you

'Cause you leaving's for the best

You look up as he comes in, and confusion brightens your eyes. 

“Uta?” You ask, and he nods,

“That’s me. Welcome to HySy ArtMask Studio.” He says, more out of habit than anything. You offer him a smile, and he finds his heart trembling at the sight. 

What was wrong with him?

“I heard there was a mask studio that could offer a lot of inspiration. I didn’t know you owned it.” You comment as you cradle your sketchbook against your chest. Your pencil is stuck behind your ear, and you’re dressed in a thick knit sweater and trousers. Your boots scuff against the floor. 

He finds himself gesturing to the masks. 

“Make yourself at home.” He says, genuinely meaning it. 

'Cause I just couldn't stand having you as my crutch

You're a simmering stovetop I was tempted to touch

If you ever return, it'll burn me too much

To bear

So don't you dare

After the initial text, you are really the only one keeping up the conversation. Sure, Uta replies, but he keeps a certain amount of distance between you two. Mainly for your safety. 

But for whatever reason, you keep coming back. 

Your presence becomes a regular in his shop. You come every Friday, right after your university classes. Even though you are his age, if not a year younger, you say you are working toward your bachelor’s degree in—you guessed it—art. 

You say you want to open your own shop and sell your artwork. 

Much like him. 

And I know it's all so shallow, but a shallow cut still stings

And before my heart becomes Amelia's heir, I need to clip its wings

So don't you dare keep mocking me with those

Thousand little things that I adore

Let me ignore you, don't let me care

He tries to ignore you the closer you two become. 

For your safety. 

At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

And don't you dare leave me still in love with you

Nothing's fair when love is war

And I just can't endure any more of the fight

When the casualties rise with my heart rate each night

At first, Uta thinks he’s dying. Of course, that would explain why you always make his heart race and his blood run hot. 

That would explain why you’re always on his mind. 

Right?

Though I know I'm to blame for the glances I'd steal,

For the time I kept spending pretending it's real

And now that it's ending, I still have more feelings to spare

But don't you dare

It takes a talking to from Yomo for him to realize what’s going on. 

Don't you dare

When Uta first realized he was in love with you, admittedly, he panicked a little. 

But he doesn’t hate the idea. 

[formulaforza]

hello, hello! can i request a blurb where carlos and reader have moved in together and are having a housewarming party. they’ve invited a couple drivers over and lando tries to use the fancy hermes blanket on the couch and reader gasps! "what's the point of the blanket being on the couch if it can't be used?" "it's for show!" "oh for the love of god-" you’d do it amazingly 🫶🏼 thank you!

—coming home carlos sainz x reader love, mackie... hi nonnie!! this turned into exactly how I needed to spend my evening (my day was quite literally from hell.) and this ran a little longer than a blurb at 1.3k words! regardless, I hope you enjoy it! I had a lot of fun writing it (and listening to lots of Spanish music)

There wasn’t much that was easy about blending the home decor styles of you and your boyfriend. For every item that Carlos fell in love with, you had an equal and opposite styled piece that you were in love with. From the herringbone floors to the tall white walls, it seemed that everything in the place was a direct contrast of the other. Quiet luxury and old money and neon signs and maximalist paint swatches, it was almost an entire year before the two of you finally allowed guests to come over (which–by the way–was a direct conflict to one of the major reasons the two of you decided to move in together in the first place: hosting friends and family without arguing over who would be doing the hosting).

The week following the Spanish Grand Prix felt like the perfect time to finally show your home off to the people you loved most; everyone was already in Barcelona for Carlos, an hour and change flight or a two and a half hour train ride wouldn’t kill any of them, not when half of them had to make their way back to the capital. 

That’s how it all cumulated into the night of all nights. The coffee table books are surrounded by half full, mis-matched wine glasses on old Spanish tile coasters (a compromise the two of you had made over the intricate hand painted ceramic that previously adorned the kitchen walls). The record player in the corner of the room stutters its way through Carlos’ dusty Boleros In Trío vinyl while the bluetooth speaker in the kitchen serenades listeners with the sounds of Sebastian Yatra. 

Everytime Carlos enters a room, he flips the lightswitch on. You follow behind him turning the overheads back off, opting for the warm yellow lamp light and the colors of the city beyond the bistro-themed balcony.  He burns a candle on the stack of decorative books, something with tobacco and cocoa and brandy and–jasmine, maybe? He always picks candles with jasmine, so you might just be imagining the smell out of habit. 

And you, and him. The two of you so terribly settled into the domesticity of your shared lives, the air of love in every corner of the home. He appears in the kitchen in a warm breeze, reaching over your arm to grab a slice of chorizo from the tapas platter on the counter in front of you. He kisses your cheek when he does it, undoubtedly in hopes of distracting your hand from smacking his. “¿Tienes frío, mi amor?” Are you cold, my love? He peruses around the bite of food. 

“¿No porque?” No, why? You ask, pressing the back of your hand against your cheek to feel the temperature of your own skin. 

“Lando sigue y sigue sobre tener frío,” Lando is going on and on about being cold, he explains. “Estaba empezando a pensar que me estaba volviendo loco.” I was starting to think I was going crazy.

You laugh. If anything but temperate, you’re warm, working around the kitchen perfectly plating a platter for your friends and family to snack on. “Bueno, creo que Lando ha perdido la cabeza,” Well, I think Lando has lost his mind. Carlos chuckles, gives you another passing kiss as he moves behind you around the island. “¿Encontrarle una manta, sin embargo?” Find him a blanket, though? You ask. He nods through a chew, holds his thumb up as he backs out of the room—you wonder how he managed to sneak another bite of food past you. 

You appear with the tray of snacks, chorizo with ham and cheese and bread, croquetas and patatas bravas and tigres. If it’s all as good as it was when you’d tested the menu last weekend, your company won’t even realize that you and Carlos aren’t serving them an actual meal this evening. Everyone hastily moves their coasters and glasses and Carlos moves the stack of books from the coffee table to the entertainment center, hovers behind you as you set the heavy platter down just in case you need him. 

You find your seat next to Carlos on one of the sofas, know that he hates that people are eating on his new couches. He’d researched them for months–months–before finally deciding on the ones that had been delivered last month as a replacement to the ones from your old apartment. 

You notice Lando is still blanketless, still dramatically letting a shiver run up his entire body every ten minutes. “Güey,” you say, and half the room looks up from their conversation, Lando’s eyes meeting yours. “If you are cold still, get a blanket.”

“Ay yai yai, pollita, relax,” he quips back in a thick, feigned Spanish accent. Carlos snorts and you meet Lando with your middle finger, an old friend of his. When you look to your boyfriend to meet his dumb chuckle with the same fate, he’s not even paying attention to the conversation. Instead, he picks at the bottom of a shelf hung on the wall above the two of you. It holds his trophy from Silverstone, a picture of him and Caco, a small jar full of incense sticks (maybe the jasmine you smell), which he has stuck a tiny Spanish flag into, and a picture of you and he following his win. The smiles on both your faces are so horribly cheek-aching that you can almost feel the phantom soreness when you look at it. 

You watch as Lando reaches over another friend with a quiet excuse me. You can see the thought process happening behind his eyes, in his path for the blanket draped over the back of Carlos’ brand new couch. It’s like watching the world’s lowest stakes car crash. 

“Carlos,” you whisper. “Carlos, él va por la cobija,” he’s going for the blanket, you say through gritted teeth, nudging your boyfriend to deal with his friend.  He ignores you, still focused on the bottom of the shelf and the single splinter that shoots off it. “Carlos,” you say, this time with more force. 

“¿Qué?” You finally get his eyes, nodding over to Lando, who is currently unfolding the Hermés throw blanket Carlos’ mother had gifted the two of you upon signing your lease. “Ay! Cabrón! No,” he finally says, standing up from his seat and moving to take the blanket from Lando, who looks on in utter confusion as Carlos refolds the throw and moves down the hallway. 

“What the fuck?” He asks you through a meek chuckle. 

“We don’t use that blanket,” you explain, and he looks even more confused than before. 

“You… hu–what?” He laughs, with more confidence in his confusion than before. “Why is there a blanket on the couch if it can’t be used?”

You sigh, your eyes rolling behind closed lids. “It’s for decoration.”

“It’s for decoration?” You nod, just as Carlos appears from the hall again, usable blanket in tow, expensive throw likely put away in your shared bedroom. He hands it to Lando. “It’s for decoration,” the Brit teases. 

Carlos shrugs, holds his hands up in defense in the return to his seat beside you. “Rule maker,” he says, pointing to you with a thumb before shifting it to himself, “rule follower.”

You laugh, adjusting to the sink of the cushion brought on by Carlos’ weight on the couch, your fingers finding the hair at the nape of his neck without even the beginnings of a thought. Lando groans, pointing to you, “whipped,” and then to Carlos, “whipped… but more.”

“Stellar delivery there, cabrón,” you smile. “No stutter or anything.”

Carlos exhales a sharp laugh, his shoulders bouncing silently. Across the coffee table, Lando, curled up in a fluffy blanket like a toddler staying up past their bed-time to hang out with Mom and Dad’s friends, flips you off and is sure to properly enunciate his silently mouthed fuck you.

[cabinetteofcuriosities]

I would love to know more about your journal system and how you use them.

Hello there, sweet soul. Thank you for your interest in my journal system.

I currently have three books in use: i. Hobonichi Weeks ii. Leuchtturm1917 Pocket iii. Leuchtturm1917 A5

⋆⋅ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ⋅⋆

Hobonichi Weeks

The Hobonichi Weeks is my planner. The weekly layout works really well for my weekly and daily to-do lists.

Fun fact: A lovely friend told me about how she calls her to-dos “main quests” and “side quests”—I’ve been adapting this genius idea and, ever since, life feels a little less of a burden.

⋆⋅ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ⋅⋆

Leuchtturm1917 Pocket

This one is an experiment. Since my A5 journal is too big to carry around, I introduced the pocket size into my setup. Its main purpose is to accompany me on the go, so that I always have a notebook on hand wherever I go, whenever I’d need to. It gives me comfort in a way and comes in quite handy, to be honest. The pages are being filled with whatever I want to fill them; there really are no limitations or rules.

I’ve also started experimenting with manifestations. So, in the morning, usually while having my morning coffee, I sit down and write down some manifestations for the day • to set the mood for what’s to come, to eventually be able to welcome good omens into my days since I realised I need a certain openness to be able to welcome good things into my life. It’s been working pleasantly so far—I really enjoy the habit of sitting down in the morning, setting the mood for the day.

⋆⋅ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ⋅⋆

Leuchtturm1917 A5

This is the main book of them all; this one is really dear to my heart. Its purpose is to record my (daily) life, collect memories, and document what interests me at various points in time. It’s a mixture of daily journal entries, spreads about special events, copied articles that intrigue me, book reviews, thoughts on music I listen to, ephemera collected during trips, and photos captured throughout my days—all neatly gathered in one bound book.

I cannot emphasise this enough • life has been so much more meaningful, even the most mundane things, ever since I consciously started recording bits and pieces of my life. Especially keeping a record of my own thought processes. There was a time in my life when I worked through problems in my head by writing spoken-word poetry about topics that concerned me. It fills me with so much joy to read them back and at some point I realised just how much my inner state has grown and how much I’ve figured out along the way.

I feel like we all go through so much but we don’t take enough time to reflect or give ourselves credit for everything we’ve endured and achieved. This notebook serves that exact purpose: to collect, reflect, and connect—to cherish life a little more.

[arlertdarling]

hi hi! I love love your writing and congrats on 100 followers, you deserve sm more!! I would like to request a fluffy drabble with Levi Ackerman and the prompt “photograph” in modern au :)

thank you so much! ❤️❤️

hii oh my gosh, you are so lovely, thank you!!🥺 i was giggling and kicking my feet writing this, i hope you enjoy it<3

PHOTOGRAPH

levi x gn!reader, (domestic) fluff, established relationship, modern au

this request is a part of my 100+ follower event; if you’re interested, check out this post!

“don’t,” levi says through a mouthful of food. usually he’d never do something so uncouth, but with your polaroid camera not-so-discreetly angled toward him, he simply couldn’t risk waiting to speak.

you peek over the camera at him. “aw, please–”

“no.”

“but you look so cute when you eat!” you protest, but levi remains unconvinced. you watch him for a few seconds; the way his cheeks swell and his nose twitches every so often. “like a hamster,” you add under your breath and this time it does harbour a reaction — a deep furrow in his eyebrows paired with a glare.

you shake the camera side to side with a grin and the billion-dollar question on your face. levi exhales harshly through his nose in frustration; your persistence is admirable at best, but now — at worst — it’s simply insufferable. “why now, of all times?” he complains. “you could at least wait until i look more presentable.”

you chuckle and lean over to ruffle his hair. he flinches out of reach at the last minute. “that’s the whole point, dummy. they’re called candids.” you place your elbow on the coffee table and rest your chin in your hand. “besides, i think you look perfectly presentable. adorable, even. a work of art, in fact–”

“stop talking,” he mumbles, shielding his face with his hand so you can’t see it — but you know this reaction all too well by now.

“and now you’re flustered so i want to take a photo even more now!” you sigh and drop your arms and head onto the table in defeat. the only sound between you is levi’s chewing and the clatter of utensils against his plate. having finished your own food a while ago — since levi is a slow eater — you just lay there, tracing the patterns of the table wood with a finger as boredom overtakes you.

“fine.”

your head perks up and your eyebrows shoot up your forehead. “what did you say?” you heard him perfectly fine; you just needed to be sure.

levi looks you dead in the eyes, but seems to think better of it, and shifts his gaze to someplace else before speaking. “you can take a photo of me, but only because you’re being so annoying about it.”

your eyes widen and your lips quirk up into a giddy smile. “really? like, right now?”

he frowns. “not right now.”

“but the candids–”

“don’t push your luck.”

you put your hands up in surrender, and for a few seconds, levi just stares at you, but then he falters, breaking out into a small smile and slightly turning his head away out of habit.

the flash of your polaroid camera lights up his features, his pale skin glowing. as soon as it fades, those features fall back into their usual position, and then they twist in realisation; parted lips, wide eyes, flared nostrils, and most importantly, that telltale colour that blooms in his cheeks.

“give me that,” he orders, swiping at the camera, but you just snicker behind your hand like a little devil as the photograph prints. you catch it between two fingers and wave it around, taunting your red-faced boyfriend.

“you said i can take a photo, so i took a photo.” you speak innocently, but your smile is knowing and mischievous. “no take-backsies, levi, you know this.”

the scowl is back, full force, but it has no effect on a face so pink. it’s not long before he sighs and finally gives up. the photo finishes developing, revealing a smiling levi; eyes creased, lip corners curled up, head slanted almost bashfully. the sight of it makes you giggle to yourself, which pulls levi’s attention back to you.

“what?”

you already feel your cheeks beginning to hurt from all the smiling. “oh, nothing. it’s just a really good photo.”

levi scoffs. “no, it’s not.”

you laugh, perplexed. “you haven’t even seen it?”

“i don’t need to,” he grumbles, playing with the remains of the food on his plate.

you tilt your head to try and see his downcast face. “are you mad at me?”

the absence of an answer is an answer in and of itself. you sigh and look back at the photograph. “at least mini polaroid levi isn’t mad at me.”

you feel levi’s eyes on you and look up, meeting his judgmental stare. “you...” he can’t seem to find the words he wants to say, his face all screwed up in a look of faux-disgust. “you’re...”

“the funniest person in the world?”

levi glares at you. “an idiot.”

“yeah but i’m your idiot,” you say, pretending to tuck some hair behind your ear.

levi stands up. “not anymore, i resign.”

“you can’t do that actually,” you argue.

he collects your empty plate and stacks it on top of his with a smirk. “i just did.” then he stands up with the plates and walks out of the room, leaving you a little dumbfounded as you sit there on your living room floor. “i resign too then!” you call after him, but you get no response, just a soft chuckle echoing from the kitchen.

[goldfish-afterhours]

Genshin Characters During Finals Season (College AU)

Characters: Zhongli, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Albedo, Bennett, Childe, Kaeya

Type/Genre: Bulleted headcanons, comedy

Warnings: Foul language, slightly suggestive humour/for comedic purposes

Zhongli

Calm and collected at first

As the days go by, Zhongli would start looking more and more like a tired dad

Walks around slightly frowning, bags under his eyes from all nighters, and clutching a mug of coffee so hard that people are afraid it’s gonna break, but even more afraid to tell him to be careful

Has heat compresses on the back of his neck and forehead to ease the headaches from the lack of sleep

Probably told Childe to shut the fuck up and mind your own business when he warned him about his cup

“Childe, if I do not kill this final I will kill you in its stead. Leave me be.”

Thoma

Probably part of one of those student care organizations that makes care packages for other students

His smile when he hands out the packages is so bright and healing it could bring back the dead

Always motivating his peers and tries to keep everyone’s spirits up

Offers to get everyone in the study group coffee

He’s not the best at school but he has a lot of friends that are willing to tutor him and do his assignments help him with his work

Likes to snack while he’s studying

“No giving up yet! Let’s take a snack break, you’ll think better with something in your belly.”

Venti

Chills at a coffee shop with a big friend group to “study”

They do jack shit

Probably spends more time staring at the drink menu than his exam notes

Grade A procrastinator, does all his homework the night before it’s due and studies for exams the morning of

Due tomorrow do tomorrow amiright

Always seems to do okay tho?? People wanna scold him for his bad study habits but he actually does okay in school so they can’t really say anything

Doesn’t study hard but parties 100x harder

“Come on, live a little! If your exam is at 2pm, you can just start studying at 9 tomorrow morning and you’ll be fine.”

Xiao

Pulls all nighter after all nighter after all nighter after all nighter after-

No one can ever find him during the day on campus or in his dorm—it’s like he despawned and just does not exist

Only time he is spotted by others is always at 3am in the morning like a cryptid and he looks like a zombie

He’s actually working a part time job along with going to classes and helping others with their work. An angry looking good boy.

Studies in the lecture halls by himself, blasting music as loud as he can on his headphones to keep himself awake

Mf going to go deaf is2g lower ur volume boi

“…hey. I’m getting a coffee, do you want one?”

Albedo

Plans his time meticulously. Has an extremely organized planner where he writes out exactly what he’s going to do at every hour of the day so he can maximize his week

Includes mealtimes, breaks, and poop times relaxation periods

Usually studies in his room, but for some reason people keep barging in on him to ask for study help so he has to find different hiding places to work in peace

So far, the best place has been the graduate students lounge. No he does not belong there, but no one questions him because it looks like he does

“If you really need my help, I have twenty seven and a half minutes between lunch and my bathroom break this Thursday. Come find me then.”

(Rejected quote: “What’s my masters in? No no, the only thing I’m a master of is your mom.”)

Bennett

The type of person to have the “please don’t talk to me I have work to do and if you talk to me I won’t stop” sign on his back while working in the library

Fell asleep while completing an assignment

Missed the midnight deadline for said assignment

Slept through the exam the next morning

At this point just let him sleep at least he won’t have to deal with it then

“That was a good nap…now I got the energy for my assignment and the exam!”

Childe

Would be a good student if he wasn’t bothering other people so often

Probably bakes when he’s stressed. His roommates are always awoken at 4 in the morning to the sound of the oven beeping and the heavenly smell of freshly baked cookies

Has a friendly rivalry with Zhongli. He always asks when Zhongli will be turning in an assignment, and what mark he’s aiming for for the final exam

Turns in the final paper at least a week before it’s due and aims for ten percent higher than Zhongli on the exam

If he needs bonus marks to reach that then so be it

Otherwise slacks off a bit

He’d be a really good student if he wasn’t so competitive with Zhongli all the time

“You good, Zhongles? You trying to squeeze a better grade out of that mug?”

Kaeya

This man probably used red bull as the liquid for his instant coffee

An absolute menace and loves messing with people

Tells them that the exam is on a whole other different thing than what they were studying for, or that the due date of a big assignment was changed

Nobody goes to him for help

If you do genuinely need help with a concept, though, he’s more than willing to help

Just make sure to provide adequate compensation for him ;)

By compensation I mean more red bull this man has drank 3 cans in ten minutes please stop him

“What? If they do shit, that only helps with our bellcurve, right? Their fault for trusting me anyways~”

[dreamerofvalyria]

Coffee Cups | College AU | Nikto x F!Reader

Short snippet fic based on the college AU from @ghouljams. I needed to feed the brain worms something and I'm gonna make it everyone else's problem. Unedited at the moment because I'm writing and posting on the fly.

You spot Nikto on his way to his first class of the morning, hurrying along the walkway with little regard for those around him. He doesn’t notice you at first, not until you flag him down with a slightly harried flailing of one of your arms. He slows his stride enough for you to catch up but doesn’t come to a complete stop.  

“Morning, Nikto!” You chirp, arranging your bags in one hand while stabilizing the tray of drinks in your other, ensuring nothing spills.  

“Привет, Рыбка,” he greets, watching in concern as one of the hot drinks very nearly topples over. Before it can end up falling on you, he reaches out a hand to snatch up one of the cups. You’ve gotten into the habit of getting coffee for the both of you before class, and so he goes to take a sip of the drink he’s grabbed. He hesitates, however, when he sees the branding on the front of the cardboard cup.  

You see his nose flare slightly and his face screw up in disgust, “you would poison me with this?” he demands, quickly giving the drink back to you with a look of genuine horror. He’s a tad overdramatic but you’ve learnt how to tell when he’s being serious and when he’s just being a bit of a drama queen. Anyone else on campus would’ve been searching for the nearest exit if he’d said that to him, but you just roll your eyes.  

“That’s one’s for Love, I’ve got your coffee here,” you assure him, pulling out one of the other cups and handing it to him, “a long black with an extra shot of espresso from the coffee shop in town.” You practically have his normal order memorised at this point, knowing exactly how scalding hot he prefers it.  

He takes the offered drink and immediately takes a swig from it – you're not sure how he can handle a coffee near enough still boiling – and sighs in complete bliss, “Спасибо от всего сердца и души.” You have no idea what he’s saying, but it sounds somewhat like some form of thanks.  

“You’re welcome,” you hum back, rearranging the drinks in your hands so that they’re correctly balanced in the tray.  

He takes another sip before continuing, “how these Americans can call that, that... foul, excessively sweet, substance ‘coffee’, is an insult!”  

You’ve heard this particular rant many times previously and simply nod along while he hisses and spits about how inferior American coffee is compared to other parts of the world. You sip at your own coffee and offer the occasional agreeable hum when expected. “You have first years straight up this morning, yeah? How are they going?” you ask when Nikto pauses his tirade to breathe.  

He doesn’t even need to think about the question, offering you a confirming nod, “yes, they are...” he mulls over his response for a moment, “acceptable.”  

It’s practically high praise for Nikto to consider a fresh batch of students ‘okay’ or ‘acceptable’ so early in the year. You hope for their sakes they’re able to maintain it since your best friend isn’t exactly the most forgiving when it comes to falling below his high standards.  

You reach the door to your department far too soon for your liking, but with any luck you’ll be able to catch up again during the day if your lunch breaks line up. You wave him goodbye and wish him luck with his classes but miss how he hesitates to leave after you close the door behind you.  

Perhaps one day he’ll muster up the courage to take you to that coffee shop as more than just a good friend.  

- 

Translations 

“Привет, Рыбка,” - Hello, Rybka (little fish – an affectionate term for a woman) 

“Спасибо от всего сердца и души.” - Thank you from the bottom of my heart and soul (can be said formally or informally)

[always-andromeda]

get to know your moots

Thank you for the tag @guiltyasdave!! This turned out a little long but it was sort of introspective to fill out!!

what's the origin of your blog title?

During my Paul Dano days I started out as spicedchaiandromeda. I loved getting spiced chai lattes at every coffee shop I went to, what can I say lol. But about two years ago when I became a more multi fandom blog I changed to always-andromeda to kind of signify that no matter what stuff I’m into, I am always Andromeda!!

OTP(s) + shipname

I’ve enjoyed a few ships over the years but I think my absolute favorite will always be Anderperry from Dead Poets Society.

favorite color

Yellow!! 💛

favorite game

I love The Last of Us, truly. But rn, Red Dead Redemption 2 and Baldur’s Gate 3 are sliiiightly edging above it. They’re both just so good. 😭

song stuck in your head

Was It Something I Said by MyKey feat. Cavetown

weirdest habit/trait?

I have a few vocal stims, but those aside, I think it’s my occasional zoomies? Idk how else to explain it but sometimes I’ll get these little bursts of energy and I just have to take some laps around the house or make some strange sound.

hobbies

Reading, writing, drawing, painting, cross-stitching, embroidery, baking, cooking…a lot of old lady activities, lmao.

if you could have any job you wish what would it be?

I’m currently studying for my studio arts degree with the hope that I can take on some sort of a graphic design position. But in an ideal world, I’d love to teach. I’ve admired almost all of my art professors and have been told that I’d make a good teacher myself.

something you're good at

Off the top of my head, I’d say conflict management. I’ve hit a point in my journey with therapy and whatnot where I feel that I can handle disagreements and de-escalate situations if they ever arise.

something you're bad at

Time management, lol. But that’s just an extra ADHD perk.

something you love

Maaan, I just had some last night so...spicy tuna over fried rice. That shit is delicious.

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff

Things that I could and have include One Direction lore, The Last of Us, and Astarion and Wyll from Baldur’s Gate 3.

something you hate

On the serious side: transphobia. On the unserious side: ants.

something you collect

The only things I well and truly collect are Palm Pals. If I see them in a gift shop while traveling, I'll get one. The last time I spent a day with my best friend he got me Doodle (the crayon box)!!

something you forget

Lately it's been what I was really like as a teenager? As I've grown and gone to therapy and figured out better ways to cope with things, sometimes I really forget how codependent and people pleasing I could be back then. Your girl had zero consideration for her own wellbeing!!

what's your love language?

Jana cited a tiktok about how eldest daughters are taught to take care of everyone around them so they don't really know their love language. And ngl struck me hard!! Literally just like. Acknowledge I exist!! 🥲

favorite movie/show

It shifts a lot but rn it's Yellowjackets again.

favorite food

I think my all time favorites are almost any kind of sushi and quesabirria tacos.

favorite animal

Growing up by the coast, I'm developed a very palpable love for sea lions lol.

what were you like as a child?

My mother says I was extremely strong willed, lol. But I know at my core that I was a very anxious kid. I was fairly intelligent and was downright terrible at making good friends.

favorite subject at school

I've always been an English and art class girlie!!

least favorite subject

Probably economics? But that's mostly because my teacher was not my favorite.

what's your best character trait

My generosity; I've always been extremely giving to people regardless of how close I am to them.

what's your worst character trait

Probably my anger, funnily enough. I can get it under control way better now. But occasionally it can get the better of me and I hate it when it does.

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be

I kiiiind of wish I had gotten up earlier? I accidentally slept in for like an hour. I also wish I wasn't dealing with ants rn. The pest control guy came over today and the problem should be better within the week but still, it sucks so bad. 😭

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet

Maybe it's because I started rewatching Twin Peaks with my brother and the fact that I'm still sad about him passing, but my heart says David Lynch.

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!)

Honestly, anything Roman Roy from @strang3lov3. I cannot explain it but she made me feral for that man in a ways I didn't even know was possible. I also really want to start reading more of her writing for Joel because I love her style in general!!

no pressure tags (if you've already done it, feel free to ignore me lmaooo sorry!!): @saradika @sixhours @elflutter @inept-the-magnificent @noisynaia

[virginburial]

hi! could i request something with ethan x fem!reader (or gn, whichever makes you the most comfortable :)) where reader is this really like, wealthy kid at blackmore who’s part of the core four (but since she’s in it… maybe fab five? idk 😭 i suck at this) and she’s dating ethan and just loves to spoil him? i’m assuming he’s like a broke college student, and the whole group kinda jokes that’s she’s his sugar mommy lmao. if you’re not up for it, feel free to ignore this request! i love your work <3 can’t wait to read more of your writing, thank you so so much for sharing it with us!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ I so clearly saw Gossip Girl in my head I'm dead x-x but let me break down why this would absolutely work on Ethan

Ethan Landry CD mix!       .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

especially since I'm getting an old money-great Gatsby feel out of it, your family probably owns a company that's been around for generations, one of those Rockefeller/Vanderbilt types. the kind of family HBO writes hit dramas about. You weren't snobby about it but still carried yourself differently than all your peers (you knew you were hot shit). So when regular-schmegular middle-class suburban boy next door Ethan catches your eye, it is a shock to everyone, especially him.

Ethan barely had a job and was living off of loans, like everyone else. you noticed this when he nervously asked you out to Olive Garden and ate nothing but the free breadsticks and some soda. you felt bad; you could tell he wanted to impress you.

so you started bringing him coffee every time you walk to class together; "I can't hold your books and the coffee y/n-" "-just take the fucking latte, Ethan!" he was too humble to take your offerings, but soon, as your romantic relationship with him evolved, so did his acceptingness and gratitude. You two would go to the mall and whatever Ethan stared at for more than five seconds would be coming home with you. other times, you'd door-dash him food whenever he studied for hours on end, because you knew Ethan had the habit of focusing too much on his studies and forgetting to eat.

"dude! she's totally your sugar mommy." Chad would tease, or Mindy and Anika would comment about asking you for permission before he does anything; "Don't you need your momma's blessing before you do that?" It's a little annoying, but Ethan knows the truth; you loved to spoil him, and he loved being spoiled by you. you loved seeing how excited he gets over a pair of sneakers or some dinner, and he loved knowing that the person he loves thinks about him and what he liked. you're abundant, and you felt it was important to share that abundance with the ones you loved. speaking of, your relationship with Ethan reached a point where he was offered an internship within your family's business; which lead to the both of you heading back to the mall, helping Ethan pick which suit he should wear to the interview.

and, of course, Ethan is on his knees, eating you out in the dressing room because he is just so grateful. getting stains all over his button-up as your juices drip down his chin and run down his neck. whatever, you were going to buy it for him anyways.

       .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

buy me a coffee ૮⸝⸝> ̫ >⸝ ა

[toffeechad]

✰ BATTLE IN LOBOTOMY CORPORATION: THE TRUMPET OF TWO AU INFO ✰

⚠ TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF DEATH, ALIVEN'T AND ALSO N00SE RELATED IMAGERY INCLUDED. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK. ⚠

Do you want to proceed? (Click the read more block if yes, don't click the read more block if no.)

MAIN INFO

This AU has some parts of LobCorp & BFDI jumbled up together. The Agents get to take part in challenges. If their teams fail, one of the losing team's members get sacrificed to the Unnamed Fetus. You may be wondering, what would the abnormalities look like? Good question. For the abnormalities that have human-like bodies such as The Queen Of Hatred & Laetitia, they'd probably be based off the object that'll fit their design. For the abnormalities related to other categories such as Punishing Bird or CENSORED, they'll remain with the same design.

AGENT & SEPHIRAH INFO + DESIGNS (TW: N00SE INCLUSION ON FLOWER'S DESIGN)

Specifically by pattern, not only the line patterns on the robot are the same as the other, but also the colors are the same as the main color of that character's asset as well.

The sacrifice order of the AU is related to the BFB (presplit & postsplit) elimination order along with the TPOT elimination order.

These drawings were done way before tpot 9 truly came out, don't expect me to update their designs however!

OTHER INFO

SEFIROT BIOS

Loser: He was once a celebrity who was adored by his fans a lot, especially for Cake. He tried his best to aim for the perfect results and never gave up... but what he was trying his best to aim for became a personal obsession of his... it led him to a trap.

Black Hole: He's very strict when it comes to analyzing Abnormalities in the facility. But whenever he sees an employee from another team or his team die by being sacrificed, he gets extremely anxious. He has Thanatophobia.

Book: She's a dictionary trying her best to help out everyone with their problems so that she'd be appreciated. She has a habit of questioning her own sanity. Ever since Taco has been sacrificed, she's willing to befriend Bomby and Nickel during her breaktime in the facility.

Golf Ball: She's a scientist and mechanic who was formerly a responsible leader... but after suppressing the first 38 sacrificed victims together with the other employees, she tried apologizing to Puffball and Fries (with lowered cogito filters)... Yet she wasn't forgiven yet. They just stared at her angrily as if they're both in the brink of mutiny. Therefore, she then feels helpless whenever a trusted teammate of her dies.

Pencil & Match: Pencil's immature, whereas Match is positive at first. Both of them seem to only trust anyone that's affiliated with their alliance or their team.

Leafy: She was once a happy-go-lucky team member... until she was sacrificed. She just wanted to suppress abnormalities for the sake of helping out the facility. Although.... she's taking her duty too far.

Coiny: He's Pin's really sleep-deprived and mature best friend. While drinking his coffee, he mostly pretends to care for the other employees. While he was in his meltdown state, he struggles to control his own mind as if he had a mental breakdown.

Basketball: She's been through numerous agonizing moments ranging from 8-Ball's sacrifice to Robot Flower's memory loss. Someday, she'll find a way to get her back.... She deeply cares for Grassy's safety as well. She's in charge of handling physical materials for the facility. After the aforementioned events, she yearned for Bell to die soon as she'd enjoy seeing her suffer.

Clock: He's calm and collected. He doesn't really think there's a point to bond with Winner anymore. He's now in charge of recording everything that happens in the facility, especially for sacrifices. He has knowledge about time and cycles.

i suck at writing anyways, thank you for coming to my ted talk