#y/n: 💔💔💔💔💔

[acid-ixx]

a loving family, an unpalatable desire

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: would anyone hear me out if i ever wrote romantic yan! bruce (ft. platonic yan! batfam AND romantic yan clark kent alongside the superfam ofc) with a neglected spouse reader... because uhm, i've been thinking about it lately just yk... so anyways PLSPLSPLS send in asks about this, ive been thinking about it so much lately.

imagine wanting to raise a family so badly with a man who adopts problem children as a side hustle. you're not some invasive spouse, you've always been good, always been loving, so... so accepting, never questioned where or how he picked them up from the side of the streets, never once complaining about the hickeys on his neck or the once neat tussles of his hair now tangled accompanying lipstick stains on his white suit.

you love your children, you tell yourself all the time. you love them, you love bruce— even if he doesn't love you. you said it in your vows, despite it being scripted, despite your family finally sighing in relief in the sidelines at finally being able to sell you off to one of the wealthiest man in the world, rather than being wasting off under their care— your vows are real.

you wanted someone to love you, unconditionally, so viscerally eternal that it eats you up.

really, all you wanted was to play that fantasy life of trophy house spouses. all you wished for was a loving, healthy relationship. the american dream: the picture perfect family frames, your husband kissing you on the cheek as he leaves for work, your children bickering at the dining room, with the scent of homemade meals wafting about the vicinity. all you wanted was the warmth in your chest to flicker like candlelights. all you dreamed about was that domestic life, an escape from the abusive household you were raised in.

yet the manor is too cold, too unforgiving for a soul such as yours.

the longer you stay inside claustrophobic, yet oh-so large hallways, the quicker you drown in a neverending pool of self-hatred.

but you're not allowed to show them your sufferings. they've been through much worse, you tell yourself. they've suffered more, and as what good spouses do, as what you're taught, you stay silent, enabling them to turn you into their own emotional punching bag.

you only allow yourself to cry at the dead of the night, under the sheets of your too-cold blanket and your too-hot pillows. when the manor is filled with deathly silence and a looming sense of dread and ill fitting thoughts of ifs and when they'll come back in one piece, will you grant yourself temporary respite; worry for a family who never even called you their parent.

yet you've always been so considerate. despite the pang in your chest every time bruce flirts with anymore potential love interest at a gala, you chose to instead monitor your chaotic children, who have always never bat an eye on you despite you always gazing lovingly at them.

you know of their interests, they don't know yours, yet you still give them extravagant gifts on their birthdays, with tired, yet glinting eyes, and a silent excuse to return to your room; one separate from bruce.

you know of bruce's hardships, but you don't push too hard, don't force him to talk, only provide him your silence and an offer to serve him dinner; all the time he refuses without looking at you. you give him comfort only if he ever allows you, only if he allows his walls to crumble— but not even his spouse can amount to a warm, crackling fireplace. to him, you're probably only a matchstick under the deadbeat glaze of the snow in a winter night.

maybe that's why you're such a ghost in the manor, stalking through the hallways, looking out for any of your children in case they come across you with any injuries. maybe that's why eventually your resolve weakened.

and maybe the absence of familial love led you to find comfort in another man's arm.

''til death do us part,' is such a tragic saying in your case, because you know it in your fragile heart that bruce's love for you was never alive in the first place. and yet you allow him to play you like a fiddle, allow him to slowly allow you to slip away from his nonexistent grasp.

and now, you're a stand-in parent for clark's son, jon, after the tragic loss of his wife. now, your world seems a lot less bleaker, as you play the fantasy of a loving house spouse, fully abandoning the life you left behind, a life you've never been gifted with until now. you want to feel guilty, you want to feel absolutely terrible but the heartache of neglect has become too much and all you do was allow clark to warm you up each night, kissing away your tears and spooning your deep-seated anxieties away.

you don't let the past eat you up, not when the present is too perfect, too freeing, too delusionally beautiful.

your son, jon provides you every joy a parent could have. parent's day gifts, heartfelt letters at every nook and cranny of your shared bedroom with clark— even reading him bedtime stories, allowing him to sleep in your lap after he slowly nods off, with clark knocking softly on polished wooden doors, greeting you with a loving kiss on the lips and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand—

it's everything a parent wants, needs even.

and you're everything clark, and especially jon wants, needs in their life.

so it's such a stupid mistake, really. a slip of the tongue, a too-enthusiastic smile, incredibly bright, shining eyes. it's not jon's fault, you still love him either way. but it's an error still— one a complicated matter at hand, so dreadful for you, that jon accidentally, all-too-suddenly, mentions you as his parent to damian.

a loving, wonderful parent, he says, with a picture of you in his wallet shoved right in front of his friend's face.

[d-a-n-n-y-y]

How every different Y/N’s getting ready to be featured in fanfiction across different fandoms rn:

[r0ckstar-c0met]

yall forgive me for drawing this pleas 🙏🙏

am i gonna be publicly executed

[melodiesz]

Shooting practice with Jason ⭑

( -_•)︻デ═一 pow ! ✮⋆˙

“are you even trying?” He asks with an unimpressed look. When you continue to fumble with the gun (possibly on purpose), he groans and takes matters into his own hands.

“No- here, like this.” He grabs your hands and positions them on the pistol, adjusting your fingers and correcting the way you held your arms out with clear experience.

He nudged your legs into proper position, grabbing your waist and guiding you to a slight angle.

It was an innocent action but your face is burning. When you try to take the shot again all you can think of is the lingering feeling of his scarred hands on your waist and you miss completely, hands shaking far too much to hit a proper shot.

You frown in embarrassment at being so easily distracted, but before you can think on it too much he comes up behind you, placing his hands over yours and raising your arms. His face is close enough that you can hear his warm voice right next to your ear, and it sends shivers down your spine.

“Come on, keep trying. I know you can do it,” he encourages with a smile. He’s just being a helpful friend, trying to teach you how to properly defend yourself, and here you are thinking of how good he sounds humming encouragements into your ear.

You’re glad he’s behind you so he can’t spot how red your face is turning. You take a second to prepare yourself or you just want to feel his hands on yours a little longer and with a deep breath you take the shot, hitting the target dead centre.

His grin widens. “See? you’re a natural!” He boasts dramatically and steps back, and your expression dips at the loss of contact. “now try it without my help,” he asks.

You get back into proper stance and aim perfectly, stance corrected and shoulders back, but when the moment comes, you miss again, mind utterly clouded.

He raises an eyebrow. “You can’t be this bad,” he jokes. “something got you distracted?” He steps to face you now and immediately notices your flushed expression.

He may be a little dense when it comes to romantics, but he’s not an idiot. Rather than tease you he just smiles reassuringly and covers your hand in his again, reaching his left one to rest softly on your waist.

He’s pressed against your back now and you want to squeal at the way his body basically covers yours completely. He rests his chin on your shoulder, eyeing you calmly like you weren’t on the brink of imploding. His voice is soft, like a whisper in your ear when he urges, “do it for me, yeah?”

And you do, abiding without a second thought and pressing down on the trigger. The hand on your waist is trailing down to your hip and tracing patterns on it, like he was trying to distract you. Yet somehow, you manage to make a good shot.

You’re still red in the face when just like that he backs away, smiling innocently again like nothing happened. You gawk at him and he just laughs and walks away, throwing out a quick: “told you.”

[xoxochb]

What do you think the HoO boys aftercare is like?? 😶😶

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

percy jackson is my personal favorite! he’s kinda similar to jason except he’s an ass because that’s percy. he likes to tease you n shit but nonetheless he pecks your forehead and praises you on how well you did for him (add in that ‘good girl’ I’m DECEASED). I feel like he enjoys taking a bath after, holding your docile body carefully and cleaning you up mhm hm. he likes to kiss ur neck gently n then after he wraps u up in a towel and dresses u all himself 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

jason grace is without a doubt the best aftercare bf I know it 🙂‍↕️ he puts himself in mother mode and assures that you are fully cared for. firstly, he will let you take a moment to calm yourself down to a normal level before he begins pestering you with questions like the ‘are you okay?’ + ‘how are you feeling?’ + ‘do you need anything?’ and he does everything in his power to make sure that you’re well taken care of and comfortable!!!!

leo valdez is something that’s for sure… he likes to trace his fingers over the marks he made on your skin while murmuring some spanish curse words for letting himself do such a thing to you. but anyways he likes to take a shower with you following! assuring to scrub your body diligently and carefully to not harm you. if he’s really lucky he’ll get a second round during this time!

[rottencoredfreak]

people will write toji and make him talk with hella aave and EYE think it’s weird. outside of the fact that it just doesn’t mesh w his character and he literally doesn’t talk like that AT ALL I also think it’s weird that he’s the only one who (within some corners of the fandom) is characterized as talkin like that and u rlly gotta wonder why..

[gnawing-at-my-cage]

I’m sorry, but the quality of fics on Tumblr lately has declined so much. There are so many talented writers on here (so obviously this doesn’t apply to them) but It’s starting to feel like that same Wattpad-style writing has crept in, I came to Tumblr for a reason. There are only so many times you can recycle the same plot before it just gets stale. And not to be rude, but sometimes I genuinely question how old some of y’all are when I read certain things on here😭

[starmaiya11]

kissing headcannons

gojo satoru

.

.

.

☆ always kissing you

★ if you were significantly shorter than him, he would like the way you'd lean onto your tip toes to reach his lips when you'd kiss

☆ he would kiss your wounds while patching you up (and vice versa)

★ you would always feel him smiling against your lips between kisses

☆ would tell you he loves you between kisses

★ always touching you during kisses, cupping your face, squeezing your cheeks & making your lips pucker up against his, resting on your lower back, tightly gripping your waist, etc

☆ holding your face and just staring at you before kissing you

★ kisses you goodbye/hello

☆ gets upset if you don't kiss before he leaves for work

★ would pester you to do stupid things like the pocky game w him as an excuse to kiss you

☆ if you asked to try one of his sweets/gum, he would put it in his mouth and lean in to kiss you to be annoying (kinda gross, but sometimes you'd play along)

★ kisses you everywhere all the time- lips, cheeks, nose, neck, collarbone, jaw, forehead, ears, palms, knuckles, wrist, everywhere

☆ favourite place to kiss you is your lips

★ kisses you everywhere, and in public (he’d unfortunately like pda..)

—-☆ actual written work for this idea here <3

[bluediamondkisser]

me tryna read a long ass fanfic but I know I have a attention span that's shortter than 15 seconds:

[maemasha]

megumi walked into the empty apartment, the door clicking open with a bag of groceries in hand. the apartment was weirdly quiet, like there was something off. you weren’t here. oh, that’s right, you weren’t here because you left. and you weren’t coming back, either. and it’s all because megumi is the worst person to ever live. the worst boyfriend. he sighed softly and sat on the couch, setting the groceries down and taking out his phone to see if you texted. he knew you didn’t, but he had to check. just in case. his lockscreen is still the same picture of you and him- you guys are both smiling, something he wished he could’ve seen one more time from you before you left. he never changed it- even though it’s been 4 months. 4 months ago, when you left. 4 months ago when he saw you last, tears in your eyes because in your mind, he truly didn’t care. he wished he could go back and fix things. it’s all his fault. megumi didn’t realize how much he loved you until he lost you.

[ysaefinn]

You and suguru have to eat from the same plate or he'll die

[grenadehearts]

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki nearing his 40s, his muscles aching more than they did when he was freshly 20, the years of hard labor carved into every tendon and joint. his sandy blonde hair, once bright and wild, starting to show a few stubborn greys. he even grew stubble — coarse and scratchy — that leaves your skin burning when he kisses you.

and you'll complain about it, listing off reasons on your pretty, young, manicured fingers why he needs to shave, tapping each one against his chest. he'll just tilt his head, give you that lazy, lopsided smirk, and grunt a simple, "nah."

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki and the way he met you — this bright, pretty thing tucked away behind rows of blooms — when he ducked into a floral shop for a last-minute birthday gift for the old hag. how he saw you there, sleeves rolled up, soil caked on your delicate hands, loose strands of hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, and how you just blew them away without a second thought — left him absolutely weak in the knees.

your laugh was brighter than any flower in that whole damn shop, and your eyes?

god, your eyes put every petal to shame.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who lingered way longer than he should have, asking the dumbest questions known to man about orchids, tulips, lilies, and roses, just so he could hear you talk. how you lit up at every answer, spilling all these little facts with that animated sparkle in your voice.

he didn't even like flowers.

but he liked you.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who kept coming back to that little shop for months after. at first, it was excuses — shitty ones, too. "forgot what kinda flowers she liked," he'd mutter. "need somethin' for a friend."

but pretty soon, there weren't any excuses left. he was just there, like clockwork, hanging on your every word, wrapped around your finger like some lovesick, pathetic mutt.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki whose hands are rough, calloused from decades of labor — decades that stretch back to before you were even born. big, scarred palms that make your soft skin feel like silk in comparison.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who takes a little longer to get out of bed in the mornings, always grumbling about his bad back, how he needs time to "get movin’."

but really, he just wants an excuse to pull you in close — press you flush against him, soak in the heat of you — and watch your pretty eyelashes flutter while you sleep.

and he has to be there when you wake up.

he needs to see those gorgeous eyes make sure they find him first thing in the morning.

thinking about gruff!older!katsuki who hadn't even thought about dating for years — too busy, too bitter, too tired — until he stumbled into you. all doe-eyed and sweet, so eager and fresh-faced you knocked the damn wind outta him.

made him awkward again, made him red-faced and desperate to impress you.

and all the boys you had before? college kids, jerks who only cared about frat parties and notches on their belts. they didn’t know the first thing about taking care of someone like you.

but katsuki did. he was older. more patient. rough around the edges, sure — but he knew how to make you feel good, how to take his time and worship you like you deserved.

getting there, though?

getting there was tricky.

you were both such messes, two bumbling, nervous idiots, fumbling around each other like awkward teenagers.

but god, it was worth it.

a/n: based on this request lmk if you guys are wanting to see more of this, masterlist link here. and tysm for 1k followers!

taglist: @xoxojisu @candiiee @luvseraphh @cvnt4him @soundtrqck @chlosology @lotusstarr @cupkiki @wokasiv @badslittlemuffin @princessshnazzy @203steph @chitteringcicadaeyes @idk1187 @notartemis777 @chosostonguepiercing @chocolatedefendorbaa @t33th--r0t @3lenaatvt @the-faceless-bride @tuneinwlosers @badslittlemuffin @dreamcastgirl99 @gethexxed @moonstonejpg @pluto-9456 @wonubby @kye1aaazene @izukusfangirl @van9lla @dienamiight @sofi4dsam @kawaiiclubdaily @therefore-evermore @bluemailhiot @luckybibucky @sk1ppy-art @d011yyxx @myths-and-ledgends @icanread-icantwrite @changkyunnnie @blue-birdie-bixch @aj1j @twoplayergaymers @socialobligation

[xopedri]

gol!

summary. your boyfriend’s first goal.

a/n. pau goal on my mind 24/7

dt(s). @n0vazsq <3

attending your boyfriend’s home games was inevitable, you loved football; even more so since the love of your life was on the pitch.

pau playing defense always added a bit more pressure on him, even after you’ve reassured him multiple times that he’s great at what he does.

like normal, you headed to the olympic stadium, decked out in all the barça merch you had.

unsurprisingly, he played amazingly. he was always great, especially for his age.

it wasn’t long before he scored a goal. his first goal.

you probably got whiplash from how quickly you jumped out of your seat when you saw pau get in that header.

the cheers erupted from the crowd as the boy you loved so dearly celebrated this accomplishment, kissing the badge of the club he’s spent his life with.

after he face-planted, he jogged along the side of the pitch, glancing up toward you, your family, and his family. he waved to all of you, his big toothy smile going from ear to ear.

you waved back and you ended up with a big smile for the rest of the match, even though it ended with a draw.

the drive home was full of energy. smiles and laughter spread throughout everyone as they congratulated pau for how great he was tonight.

you all arrived at pau and his family’s house, where you immediately ran up and hugged your boyfriend. you didn’t get a chance to do so earlier, so now was a perfect moment.

“you did great pau, you’re so good!” you praised with a giddy grin spread across your face.

pau chuckled, “thanks, y/n.” he smiled back, placing his head on the crook of your neck, his grasp on you tightening ever-so-slightly.

“thank you for cheering me on, i love you.” pau mumbled, the adrenaline from the match starting to wane.

“i love you too, always.” you replied, your hand gently rubbing his back.

tysm for reading! all likes, reposts, and comments are welcome and very appreciated!! 💕

[saltylovesvessels]

I am all, I am all of me

[gummyisland39]

The loser lost again😭🙏

just quit lil bro you aint gonna win against a god💀💀

one month till I can make another AI high-quality png

[httpiastri]

paul aron x reader

paul looks exhausted when he finally steps into the hitech garage after the race. he doesn't look as upset as you had assumed, considering the race he's just had, but his tensed shoulders and furrowed eyebrows can be spotted from miles away. you stay in the background when he shakes hands with his engineers and other staff members, stopping every once in a while for some quick chats about the race.

soon, his eyes land on you, though they don't light up in the way you had hoped. but the second your arms drape around his shoulders, you can literally feel the stress and pressure flow out of him. a huff of air passes his lips as his hands squeeze your sides before slipping around to encircle the small of your back, and you nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck as a response.

paul stays quiet, which isn't uncommon for him. usually when he's upset, he wants to be left alone for a bit, to sort our his thoughts and reflect on his race. and yet, this silence simply doesn't feel right.

something inside of you just snaps.

you can't tell if it's the memory of the race replaying in your head, the way you assume he's being much harder in himself than he lets you see, or the fact that he seems to come undone in your arms, but something does it for you. it's because of a mixture of all three, probably, and it has you crying in no time.

paul doesn't register the tears on his skin at first, but his heart breaks in his chest when he hears your soft sniffles from right below his ear. "hey," he says, pulling apart slightly. his big, soft hands practically engulf your face when he cups it, gentle eyes searching your teary ones. "it's okay, you know. it's not that bad."

"i know, i know..." you mumble, reaching up to wipe away a few tears from your cheek, despite how his thumbs are already working on it. "it's just..."

one of his hands moves to cradle the back of your neck, guiding you forward to his skin again. "i even extended the lead in the championship. it's alright, really."

the steady rhythm of his heartbeat works wonders at calming you down, just as always, and the warmth of his hug slowly but surely replaces the anxiety in you. a shaky breath passes through your lips, and you nod against him before leaning back again to look at him.

the bright blue color of his pretty eyes pops out even more than usual, though there's a sliver of guilt in them. he hates being the one causing your tears, he hates seeing the stains of mascara along your cheeks. he hates the thought of you hurting enough to shed tears like this.

but the words you then say have his eyes widening. he expects something heart-wrenching, something crushing, but it's far from it. "i'm just so proud of you," you start, running a hand through his messy fringe. "you're taking this like a champ. a year or two ago, you would've sulked and blamed everyone else, but..." for the first time in over an hour, a slight smile pulls on the corners of your mouth. "you've matured, grown up. and i'm so proud."

paul is speechless; his jaw drops a little, prompting you to push it up with a finger and a soft laugh, and he just won't stop blinking. "wow," he finally says. "you're going to make me cry now..."

you instantly shake your head, arms draping around his neck. "don't." you press a quick kiss to his lips, before resting your forehead against his. "let's just... get out of here and relax, do something that doesn't include crying. does that sound okay?"

"there's nothing i'd rather do."

when you step out of his hold to go get your purse, he can't help but pull you back in and lock his lips with yours again. despite just having raced for an hour, paul's blood rushes through his body from the way you kiss him back (in an oh-so-familiar yet exciting way), like he's never been more eager in his life.

maybe he can think of something he'd rather do, after all.