#and I always love Spanish language jerseys

[afreauxheaux]

The Suns and Cavs have the best city edition jerseys and it’s not even close. They should stop making new ones for each teach every year unless they can make a high quality concept for everyone.

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Surprise ! 🥅🎉

Alexia Putellas x reader x Mapi León

warning : fluffy 💭💗

(my first language isn't english nor spanish, sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes)

Summary :

You decide to surprise your girlfriends at training. Unintentionally signing yourself up for a football lesson.

You had been planning this for weeks, keeping secrets from both Mapi and Alexia was no small task, but somehow, you’d managed. With both of your girlfriends playing for FC Barcelona Femení, their schedules were extremely full, leaving little time for surprise gestures. But today, you were determined to change that.

The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the training ground as you made your way toward the field. The girls didn’t know you were coming, and the anticipation bubbling inside you was almost too much to contain. You had arranged with the coaching staff to sneak in during their water break, hoping to catch them both completely off guard.

As you approached, you could hear the familiar sound of cleats hitting the grass and the playful banter between the players. Your heart swelled with affection as you spotted Mapi and Alexia, completely in their element, commanding the field with their usual grace and intensity. Mapi, with her fierce determination and strong presence, was effortlessly blocking shots while Alexia, ever the leader, guided her teammates with ease. You waited just out of sight until the coach called for a water break. This was your chance.

With a deep breath, you stepped onto the field, carrying a couple of their favourite drinks in hand. You approached quietly, watching as Mapi and Alexia grabbed their bottles, talking and laughing with each other. Mapi’s signature smirk flashed as she wiped sweat from her brow, while Alexia’s focus never truly wavered, even during a break. As you got closer, Mapi spotted you first. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she nudged Alexia, who turned to see what had caught her attention. The moment their gazes locked onto you, both of their expressions shifted from shock to pure joy.

- ¡Cariño! (Love !)

Mapi exclaimed, quickly closing the distance between you with a wide grin plastered on her face. She wrapped her arms around you tightly, her sweaty jersey clinging to your skin, but you didn’t mind. The warmth of her embrace and the happiness in her voice made it all worth it.

- ¡No nos dijiste que vendrías! (You didn’t tell us you were coming! )

Alexia added, her face lighting up as she joined the hug, sandwiching you between them. Her arms found their way around you and Mapi, squeezing you both as she kissed your cheek softly.

- Bueno, no sería una sorpresa si te lo dijera, ¿verdad? (Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?)

You replied, laughing as you held them close, soaking in the feeling of being in their arms. Mapi pulled back slightly, giving you one of her signature playful looks.

- Realmente sabes cómo mantenernos alerta, ¿no? (You really know how to keep us on our toes, don’t you?)

Alexia, always the calm and composed one, smiled softly at you, her eyes filled with affection.

- Esta fue una buena sorpresa. (This was a good surprise)

She murmured, her hand gently brushing your arm as she glanced at Mapi with a knowing look.

- Pensé que podrías aprovechar un pequeño descanso. (I thought you could use a little break)

You said, handing them their favorite drinks.

- Además, las extrañé a las dos. (Plus, I missed you both)

- Siempre sabes cómo cronometrar las cosas perfectamente. (You always know how to time things perfectly)

Mapi said, taking a sip from her drink before leaning in to kiss you quickly on the lips. Her kiss was gentle but full of love. Alexia’s eyes softened as she watched the interaction before pressing her own soft kiss to your forehead.

- También te extrañamos. (We missed you, too)

She admitted quietly, her hand sliding into yours. The rest of the team had noticed by now, and a few of the players nudged each other, clearly amused by the little reunion happening in the middle of training. You could hear the teasing remarks, mostly from Patri and Aitana, about how cute the three of you looked together.

- ¡Nos vas a hacer quedar mal con todo este romance! (You’re gonna make us look bad with all this romance!)

Patri called out with a grin, causing Alexia to laugh and shake her head.

- ¿Celosa? (Jealous?)

Mapi shot back, smirking as she draped an arm around your shoulder.

- Siempre. (Always)

Patri replied with a wink before jogging off to get ready for the next drill.

- Creo que será mejor que volvamos a entrenar. (Guess we’d better get back to training)

Alexia sighed, though her hand lingered in yours for a moment longer.

- Pero gracias por venir, significa mucho para mí. (But thank you for coming. It means a lot.)

You smiled, squeezing her hand before letting go.

- Estaré mirando desde las gradas. Hazme sentir orgulloso. (I’ll be watching from the stands. Make me proud.)

- Siempre. (Always)

Mapi grinned, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before jogging back to the field with Alexia beside her, both of them throwing one last glance over their shoulders at you.

As you settled into the stands, watching your girlfriends return to training with renewed energy, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky. They were fierce on the field, but with you, they were always warm and full of love. And moments like this—surprises and all—reminded you of just how special your relationship with them truly was. You watched them for a while, their movements on the field seamless and powerful, a perfect balance of skill and grace. Alexia’s commanding presence was magnetic, she directed plays with such ease, making everything look almost effortless. Mapi, on the other hand, was all fire and tenacity. Her energy was contagious, and you could tell from the way she defended that her heart was in every single tackle. Your gaze followed the two of them as they exchanged a quick look mid-play, a silent communication between them that spoke volumes. You smiled to yourself, feeling a swell of pride at being part of their lives, knowing how much love and respect they shared both on and off the field.

Just as the training session was about to wrap up, you noticed Mapi glance in your direction with a mischievous grin spreading across her face. Alexia, standing a few meters away, raised an eyebrow as she noticed. Before you had a chance to even process what was happening, Mapi sprinted towards you. You stood, confused but grinning, wondering what she was up to.

- Qué vas a— (What are you—)

Before you could finish, she had hopped the barrier to the stands and scooped you up in her arms, laughing loudly.

- Mapi !

You squealed in surprise, your arms instinctively wrapping around her neck as she carried you back towards the field. Alexia followed close behind, her expression amused yet slightly exasperated.

- No puedo llevarla a ningún lado. (I can’t take her anywhere)

she muttered fondly, shaking her head as she jogged after the two of you. By the time Mapi reached the edge of the field, the rest of the team had gathered, looking on with a mix of laughter and curiosity. You could see Patri holding up her phone, probably filming the whole thing.

- ¿Qué estás haciendo? (What are you doing?)

You asked breathlessly, half laughing, half protesting as Mapi set you down in the middle of the field.

- Pensé que sería divertido que te unieras a nosotros para el final. (Thought it’d be fun to have you join us for the end)

Mapi replied with a wicked grin, her arm still draped around your waist. Alexia finally reached the two of you, shaking her head with an indulgent smile.

- Eres imposible. (You’re impossible)

She said to Mapi, though her eyes sparkled with affection. Then, turning to you, she added,

- Pero, para ser honesto, creo que es justo que experimentes lo que pasamos todos los días. (But, to be honest, I think it’s only fair you experience what we go through every day.)

You looked between the two of them, half-jokingly wondering if they were serious.

- ¿Quieres que entrene contigo? (You want me to train with you?)

Mapi raised an eyebrow.

- ¿Por qué no? Ya estás aquí. (Why not? You’re here now.)

She shot a teasing glance at Alexia.

- ¿Qué te parece, Ale? ¿Deberíamos hacerles unos ejercicios? (What do you think, Ale? Should we put them through a few drills?)

Alexia’s lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile as she stepped closer to you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

- Pienso que es una gran idea. (I think it’s a great idea)

Her voice was soft but with a hint of playfulness that made your heart race. The other players, sensing the entertainment that was about to unfold, began encouraging you to join. “¡Vamos! (Come on!)” Aitana called out with a laugh. “Let’s see what you’ve got!”

- I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?

You muttered, but the truth was, you couldn’t say no to either of them. Mapi handed you a practice jersey and a pair of cleats, her eyes shining with mischief as she helped you lace them up.

- No te preocupes, seremos indulgentes contigo. (Don’t worry, we’ll go easy on you)

- No te creo ni un segundo. (I don’t believe you for a second)

You shot back, but you were already laughing as you let them lead you onto the field.

The next twenty minutes were a blur of sprints, passing drills, and defensive maneuvers. Alexia, ever the perfectionist, coached you through each movement with a mixture of patience and encouragement, while Mapi, of course, took every opportunity to tease you. You stumbled a few times, but every time you looked up, there was one of them smiling, supportive, and clearly loving every second of having you there with them. By the time the final whistle blew to end the session, you were breathless and sweaty, but your heart was full. Mapi jogged over, a cheeky grin plastered on her face as she handed you a water bottle.

- No está mal para ser la primera vez. (Not bad, for a first-timer.)

Alexia appeared at your side, wiping the sweat from her brow.

- Lo hiciste genial. (You did great)

She said softly, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

- Pero quizás dejen el fútbol en nuestras manos, ¿de acuerdo? (But maybe leave the football to us, okay?)

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into both of them.

- Trato. (Deal)

As the team gathered their things to head to the locker room, Patri approached, phone still in hand.

- Tengo un vídeo genial de vosotros dos entrenando. Tienes suerte de que sea un buen amigo. Te lo enviaré antes de publicarlo en cualquier sitio. (I got some great footage of you two coaching. You’re lucky I’m a good friend, I’ll send it to you before I post it anywhere)

She teased with a wink. Mapi groaned dramatically.

- Por favor, no más desastres en las redes sociales. (Please, no more social media disasters)

- Demasiado tarde. (Too late)

Patri grinned, already tapping away on her phone.

- Pero no te preocupes, te haré quedar bien. (But don’t worry, I’ll make you look good.)

With a shake of your head, you followed Alexia and Mapi off the field, feeling utterly content. As the three of you walked hand-in-hand towards the locker room.

[thefandomthings]

❝𝐀𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬❞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Aomine Daiki x f!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Suggestive (It's Aomine, duh), fluff

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I need more knb fics, pls. This is my first time writing for Knb, so I hope it's okay

Masterlist

 It will take a lot for Aomine to get into a relationship after his last one, he’ll never admit it but he’s afraid of getting hurt. (Again)

 So consider yourself lucky my dear.

 Daiki is a person who loves something or someone quietly.

 He’ll never really say he loves you out loud unless you haven’t seen each other in a long time or if you/him are having a bad day.

 His love language is physical affection and quality time. He’ll always be touching you with an arm around your shoulders or holding your hand or his hand on your tit.

 Speaking of boobs, well all know he’s obsessed with them. He’ll constantly try and catch you changing, or put his head under your shirt while cuddling just to be near the girls, as he calls them.

 Daiki is also extremely protective over you. He wants to keep you safe all the time. He’s lazy af, but whenever you want to go out just to run and errand he’ll be on his feet ready to go. My man will deck someone for looking at you wrong even in the slightest way.

 He calls you Idiot, dummy, and moron if you do something stupid or dumb. He does it out of love cause he doesn’t want you to get hurt.

 Aomine only uses your first name if you two are having an argument, or having an important conversation. Other than that your are usually called Babe or Baby.

 Your nicknames for him are Bubby/Bubba, Dai, Baby, and Kiki to annoy him.

 You two go on arcade dates at least once a month. Or you two go and kick it at the hoops downtown. Aomine plays a lot of street ball and knows a lot of guys down there.

 If you don’t know how to play basketball, he’ll gladly teach you how.

 If you already know how, you play 1 v 1 all the time, Aomine always ends up winning. But he will help you improve your skills.

 Teases the crap out of you any chance he gets. Loves seeing your flustered face.

 Aomine is totally the type to whisper dirty things in your ear while out in public. Not to mention he will just randomly grope your chest or butt whenever he feels like it.

 He’s also the type to rest his arm on your head not matter your height. He will also mess up your hair and use your head as a joystick whenever you sit between his legs.

 Daiki is a pervert at heart, whenever you are wearing a skirt and come to see him while he sleeps on the rooftop he’ll sneak a peak underneath.

 I feel like he’s a boob and thigh guy all the way. He will happily die between your glorious thighs and tits.

 Randomly leaves bite marks anywhere he wants. Adores when you have hickeys on your neck, fills his ego to the brim watching people comment on the purple bruise on your neck.

 Fucking loves when your wear his extra jersey to his games. It’s the motivation he needs to get going. Will completely crush his opponents just to watch you cheer for him.

 Pouts when you don’t give him his morning kisses or if you get up during your 2hr cuddle sessions when he wakes up.

 I 100% believe he is half Hispanic. He definitely knows Spanish and will call you names like Puta or Pendeja.

 If his mom here’s him call you that just know he’s getting a tongue lashing and the chonclas getting thrown at his head.

 He gets his accuracy from his Mom.

 It takes awhile for his mom to like you, she doesn’t want anyone hurting her baby boy.

 After awhile, she’ll treat you as her own daughter, and even teach you Spanish.

 Bonus if you already know Spanish, that’s a +1 with his mom.

 His dad liked you instantly, you were a lot different then his old girlfriend and welcomed you with open arms.

 Daiki has his dad’s ego, it’s like looking at the same person anytime they compete with each other, which is almost always anything they do.

 Aomine will totally be at any of your games/meets if you play sports. Even if he is late, he’ll be there cheering you on.

 Get’s jealous easily, especially if you talk to Kagami. If looks could kill, Kagami would be dead.

 Will have you against the door of his room, or pinned to the bed whenever he gets jealous. He makes sure you know that you are his and only his.

 His room is a disaster, clothes, old school papers, blankets etc.

 He try’s to clean his room up a bit before you come over. It’s adorable, it usually doesn’t look to much different just the floor was clean cause he moved everything to the corner of his room and covered it with a blanket.

 Loves to get you small gifts. He saves up for months to get you a beautiful promise ring. And what made it even better, you got him a promise bracelet that he wears absolutely everywhere.

 He makes sure to take it off before a game or when does anything that could break it.

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | pink skies

a/n: bf!luke, who else cheered?; suggests that five star and luke spent the night but nothing explicit! i decided not to let the angst monster touch them. they're my babies!!!! five star and luke get behind me!!!

viii. pink skies by lany

series masterlist | previous | next

there were many things about luke castellan that surprised you. one being that he wore glasses, or at least is supposed to wear glasses. he refused to wear them, against the sound medical advice of his optometrist and his mom’s insistence. his first adult responsibility was buying his own contacts because his mom refused to set up the appointments for him out of spite. he only wore his glasses when he was around the boys and poisoned mercury’s management team, but never out in public, and definitely never on stage. 

two, he loved jazz music. only a handful of people knew this about him and half of those who do, don’t believe him. he supposed it was hard for people to believe that a pop punk lead singer would have an appreciation for jazz music, but luke loved it. jazz always sounded romantic and sensual and there was something calming about it. he listened to jazz before each show. he’ll never admit this unless you twist his arm, but he wept like a goddamn baby when he first watched la la land. 

third, he was a polyglot, which he says is a little ironic because according to his mom, he spoke his first words in english significantly later than his peers, but he picked up on other languages quickly. he first found out about his talent in high school when he started hanging out at the rodriguez household and chris’ mom and sisters started saying phrases to him in spanish. he started taking spanish classes in high school and kept teaching himself when he dropped out. so far he can speak spanish, italian, and a bit of french. he attempted to learn greek, but it never clicked for him. he knew how to read it but his pronunciation was atrocious. he promised he’d try again sometime soon, but who knows if that’ll happen.

fourth, his idea of pillow talk was the two of you asking random questions to each other to get to know each other better, which is how you learned all these things about him. after one thing led to another last night, you fell asleep to the sound of luke’s voice against your ear. it wasn’t even that late; the group hadn’t come back from their trip to get food after they left the party, but you and luke were sleepy as you lay in the tangled sheets of your bed, at peace. 

you learned that he was ticklish on the side of his ribs and that he planned to get a tattoo there but when the artist tried to put the stencil on his skin, he giggled and moved around so much that the artist warned him about his placement. he didn’t end up getting the tattoo there, but instead got it a little lower on his torso. luke had six tattoos, making him the one in the band with the least amount. the stolls were tattoo fiends and made it their mission to get a small tattoo from each place they visited on tour. luke’s personal favorite was the single line on the side of their index finger. it was a messily done stick-n-poke after one too many drinks in new jersey. 

when he was younger, he used to climb on the roof of his house in connecticut. his parents warned him that he was going to hurt himself one day, but he, being the rascal that he was, never listened. until one day, after a light rain, he’d gone up there and slipped on the shingles and fell face-first against the roof. he scratched his face pretty badly, hence the scar on his face now. he told people that he got the scar from a bar fight because it sounded cooler. one day his childhood pictures will be posted on some website and his cover story won’t be as believable anymore, but that’s a bridge he’ll cross when he gets there. 

it was weird to fall asleep next to someone. you hadn’t found yourself in this position in a long time, longer than you’d care to admit. when you hooked up with people in college, you purposefully made up some excuse about why they had to leave before sun up. “my roommate will be back soon.” “i have a huge test tomorrow morning.” “my friend just called and said she needed my help so i gotta go.” but with luke, you didn’t feel the need to make up an excuse to kick him out. you didn’t want him to go. 

he asked the silent question as he was putting his clothes back on, hesitantly approaching your bedroom door to exit. he didn’t know if he was overstaying his welcome. he didn’t want to rush you when it came to things like this. so when he’d asked where his other shoe went, not caring about where it landed in the heat of the moment, you shrugged your shoulders and said, “dunno. we’ll figure it out in the morning, come back to bed.” 

you didn’t need to tell him twice. 

luke woke up before you did. you were lying on his chest, face pressed into the crook of his neck. your breaths made his skin tingle. he twirled the ends of your hair around his fingers, taking in the view of you next to him. he could get used to waking up like this every morning, he thought. he couldn’t imagine a better way to start his day. 

you stirred, craning your head to face him as your eyes fluttered open, a subdued smile on your face, “g’mornin.” 

“g’mornin’, five star,” he replied, lips immediately leaning over to press against yours. he frowned when you pulled back, shaking your head, “let me kiss you.” 

“i have morning breath,” you cringed, moving your arm from under you to caress the nape of his neck. you placed a kiss on the corner of his lips, making him groan. 

“i don’t care,” he pouted, nudging your nose with his own. you rolled your eyes but let him kiss you. the kiss was lazy and languid, lips moving gracefully against each other. it was sweet and slow like you were both trying to soak in this feeling with each other. you broke the kiss when you broke out into a smile, suddenly feeling shy. 

“it’s noon,” you said, glancing at your clock behind luke. “we need to get up soon.” 

“five more minutes,” he placed a string of kisses on your shoulder blade, grinning at the red marks he left on your skin from last night. “let’s stay here a little longer.” 

you had a feeling here meant something more than just the comfort of your bed. here was the bubble you both allowed yourself to stay in for the last twelve hours, a little universe that was just for the two of you. it was different kissing luke in the darkness of the night. you could blame it on the secrecy of it all, shadows hiding your feelings for him, no expectations or weight of the dreaded conversation, but in the morning light, you felt vulnerable. you knew the mature thing to do was to ask him about what last night meant. was it just a one-time thing? would things change between the two of you now that the chase was over? you didn’t know. 

little did you know, luke was thinking the same things as you. he would prolong this safe haven for as long as he could in case he would never get to experience it again. luke tightened his grip around your waist, breathing in the scent of your shampoo as he kissed your forehead. he couldn’t stop himself. he got a taste of what it was like to be with you and now, he couldn’t get enough. he’d find any excuse to have his lips on you. he grinned at you as he pulled away, “you snore, you know that?” 

you buried your face in your pillow, embarrassed, “stop it.” 

he laughed, “it’s cute, five star! i don’t mind it.” 

“are you sure?” you asked, scrunching your face up in disgust, “i can’t in good conscience let you sleep over again if you don’t even get any sleep because i snore.” 

“consider your conscience cleared because i really don’t mind,” luke pressed his lips against yours again. gods, he couldn’t get enough of you. “this makes up for it.” 

“ew,” you shoved him playfully, sitting up to start getting ready for the day. luke remained flat on his back on your bed, “you’re so fucking corny.”

he propped his head up on his extended elbow, a smirk on his face. the rays of sunlight that peeked through your blinds illuminated his toned chest. faint scratches and pink marks contrasted his tanned skin. “guilty.” 

you got up from bed, digging out a clean sweater from your closet. you wandered around your room, organizing things as you went on. luke watched you from your bed, eyes following your every move. his white shirt was peeking out from under the sweater. your sleep shorts showed off your toned legs perfectly. your hair was a mess, braids undone, but you still looked gorgeous. he blinked as your eyes darted to him, “you look beautiful.” 

you rolled your eyes, narrowing your eyes at him, “you can’t even see me properly. you don’t have your contacts in.” 

he’d taken them off before he fell asleep. he hated sleeping with contacts in. he’d snuck out in the middle of the night to grab his glasses from his nightstand before slipping back into bed with you. he was thankful you were a pretty heavy sleeper because he didn’t want you to think he was sneaking out to leave you by yourself after last night. when luke returned to his side of the bed, you rolled over and cuddled into him in your sleep, like you’d been waiting for him to return. 

luke reached over to retrieve his glasses from your bedside table and placed them on his face. he pushed them up on the bridge of his nose and shrugged, “still beautiful.” 

you walked over to him, sitting on his lap with your thighs caging him in. you held his face in your hands, admiring how he looked with the frames on his face. luke’s hands made their way to your waist, steadying you. you smiled, “i like how you look with your glasses.” 

a lopsided smile appeared on his face, boyish and charming. “yeah?” 

“mhm,” you hummed, “you look like a nerd. s’cute.” 

“pfft,” he scoffed, poking your side, “i’m not a nerd. i’m a rockstar.” 

“shut the fuck up,” there was no venom in your voice, despite your words. you couldn’t muster any resemblance of annoyance when he was looking at you all doe-eyed and pouty-lipped. you moved from on top of him, crawling over to your empty spot, “luke?” 

he turned to you, “five star?” 

“what are we doing?” 

“we’re spending the day in bed,” he replied, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. he knew that the conversation was coming in soon. he was scared of what you’d say next. 

your smile vanished as your shoulders hunched over, “you know what i mean.” 

luke rubbed his jaw, “you tell me.” 

luke didn’t know what he should say. he didn’t want to say that last night meant nothing to him because he’d be lying if he said that and he didn’t want to lie to you, but he also didn’t want to scare you off by telling you how he really felt. it felt like a situation he couldn’t win. his pessimism was hounding him. he didn’t want to mess this up before it had the chance to start. 

“are we just fucking around? is this casual because i–” 

at first he thought he could handle it. he’ll let you take the lead, he’ll follow you. whatever you wanted, he’s game for it, even if it meant that he got hurt along the way. but then the word casual left your lips and it felt like he was slapped across the face. he thought he could handle it if you wanted you guys to be casual or friends who kiss sometimes or friends who occasionally do more than kissing sometimes, but actually hearing you use those words made him tense.

“please don’t ever use those words about us again,” luke breathed out, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “i don’t know if you’ve noticed five star, but there’s nothing casual about how i feel about you.”

“i think we need to start talking to each other more,” you pondered. “because there’s nothing casual about how i feel about you either.” 

“throw a guy a bone sometimes. you’ve tormented me for two months. how was i supposed to know that?” he teased.

you cocked an eyebrow, “but yet you like me so really what does it say about you?” 

just like that, the indecision faded. it was back to just you and luke. the same way you’d always teased each other and pushed each other’s buttons. you’d both been stressed about what the other was thinking when you should’ve just talked to each other. perhaps all the poets and the writers in the world were onto something when they said that communication is key because you two wasted so much time running away from what this could be. it was funny really, how the two of you were both keeping these things to yourself, too scared of how you felt for each other to make a move. how much sooner could this have happened if you told him how you felt the minute you realized it? would he have kissed you a month ago? would you have been waking up with him beside you on your bed for weeks? who knows? 

“it says more about you, to be honest,” he said, “you’re irresistible. even when you’re mean to me, i adore you.” 

“you’re such a flirt, castellan.” 

“i need to up my game,” luke chuckled, “yeah, i got the girl but now i gotta work to keep you.” 

you placed a hand on your chin, pretending to think, “i don’t recall being asked to be anyone’s girl.” 

“you’re breaking my heart, five star,” he sighed dramatically, clutching his chest. he dropped his body weight on yours, making you squeal and attempt to push him off. he laughed at your efforts. “be my girl?” 

“on one condition.”

“anything.” 

“let me hear the song.” 

luke let out a full belly laugh, rolling over on the bed. he shook his head, biting his bottom lip. there was never a moment where he wasn’t on his toes when he was with you. he didn’t expect you to say that. you really were stubborn when it came to things you put your mind to. that fucking song. “no, i told you it’s not ready!” 

you stuck your tongue out at him, “then no.” 

luke’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as a goofy grin appeared on his face. he pulled you on his lap again, back pressed against his chest. he moved your hair to one side, kissing down the other side of your neck in soft, quick motions. he mumbled into your skin, “fine, but i’m following you around like a lost puppy. i’m yours.” 

you sighed dreamily, reaching over to place a hand on his arm. you couldn’t help but make fun of him despite the butterflies in your stomach, “simp.” 

you felt him nod against your body, “that’s me.” 

“we really need to get out of bed.” 

“five more minutes?” 

it had been at least fifteen since he last asked for more time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. you gave in and got back under your covers with him. you let him be the small spoon this time, your arms wrapped around his toned back, smiling at the soft sighs that left his lips when you ran your fingers down his spine. he kissed your collarbones, face relaxing as sleep overtook him again. 

you watched him fall asleep and reached for your phone, trying not to disturb his rest. you snapped a quick picture of him, smiling as you admired his features. you were falling for luke castellan.

[mbsneur]

You‘re still the best

Cata Coll x Reader

Summary: cata lost against brazil

Warnings: angst

My Masterlist

please read this text before going to the story don't be so strict with me but rather write to me what I can do better or what you wished were different. also tell me if you find the story too long or too short.. Also write to me if you liked it. My requests are always open (and English is not my first language so don't be mad at me) and if you have any ideas for the future about who I should write please tell me… the topics I will choose by myself unless you have a request for one or two people I will Read everything.. in the next survey I will take a few ideas from the old survey and new ones…. now read and I hope you like it <33

(its a very short one)

your girlfriend missed out on the fight for the gold medal because of her mistakes

your heart stops you can't bear to see your girlfriend like this she runs off the field crying and takes all the blame for it

her little heart breaks into a thousand pieces it was her greatest wish to win this gold medal

a ball through her legs

a penalty because of her

an own goal

almost a fight

she didn't want to talk to anyone from her team her pained eyes you see in the stands and her tear-filled eyes meet yours

she looks at you and her look tells you that she is sorry she would apologise to you for everything although she has no compulsion to do so it will take her a huge effort to come into your presence

she runs into the changing rooms and can't bear to look at you again

you go down to the railing and wave laia over to you she also cries and comes over to you in displeasure

"can you please just give cata a big hug and tell her i'll wait outside the hotel please" you say and feel all your blood rush to your head and your eyes glaze over

"of course" tears roll down her cheeks and she tries to give you a little smile

none of the girls will shower there now they will all go to their nearby hotel to be by themselves and shower alone to rinse off all the pain

you take your bag and run to the exit to intercept cata as quickly as possible the way out was a torture everywhere people pushing each other and spanish people arguing with brazillians and a lot off drunk people

you've been waiting for her outside for a long time you stand around fidgeting and see the first spanish women coming out some of them hug you or give you a nice smile

until you see your friend she is still crying she comes running towards you and you try to take her in your arms by touching her shoulder but she pulls away from you

"let's go i have to take a shower" she says, wiping a few tears from her face

she runs ahead and you run tenaciously behind her she must be so hurt that she doesn't even want to give you a hug

you haven't exchanged a word all the way her body looks weak she opens the door to the room and pulls her jersey over her head and throws it in the corner her shoes find their place there too

cata's broken injured body is now on full display for you you slide up to her and place your hands gently on her shoulder blades and give her little kisses on the edges of her sports bras she relaxes into the kiss until she shrugs her shoulders and pushes you away from her

she turns around abruptly your body jerks and startles "can you just stop touching me" she says angrily and almost screaming you cross your arms embarrassed and take a step back she looks at you painfully and without saying anything else she disappears into the bathroom and locks the door behind her

slowly your tears are coming out that have been stuck inside you all evening cata has never been like this to you she has always met you with love

you crawl into bed and your feelings take over your thoughts go crazy and you hear your girlfriend swearing in the bathroom

//

an hour has passed and you mumble to yourself quietly the door of the bathroom opens and cata comes back in an oversized t-shirt and her boxers she is still crying " lo- lo siento amor" she says and tears stream down her cheeks

you sit up slightly and pull the blanket off your legs and nod to her your cheeks are blood red and burning from all your tears cata comes closer and her whole body lies firmly on top of you

you gently stroke her hairline and press her head firmly against your neck "it's okay i understand your pain it's okay" you tell her tearfully and her hands squeeze your body tighter

"i shouldn't have treated you like that i didn't appreciate you you're the only one who can take away my pain " she says and sobs

"it will get better you know how much I love you and that I will never let you fall" you say understandingly

"Will you promise me?" she asks, looking at you slightly

you have never seen cata so vulnerable she was always the strong one of the two of you "i promise you i will fix you and stay your home forever"

cata kisses your neckline lightly "you're still the best" you say with a slight grin

[azulera]

Bisous

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Black Reader

Summary: 5 different ways that Kylian gives you kisses.

Notes: this is 1 of my favorite things i've ever written I think! qué emoción. Gentle feedback is very welcome + ao3 link

————————————————————————

I.

You have a life of your own, and a busy one too, but you always make time for small moments with your lover - a trip to the café, or a night at the cinema. What was small before, with Kylian, suddenly swells to the size of France, the size of Europe, to the size of the world. You’re unpleasantly reminded while waiting in line for a ticket to a 10pm show, and standing impossibly close to each other to brave the weather. The Parisian chill brings out his chivalry, so your hands rest in the pockets of his own jacket.

You look up into your boyfriend’s face colored by streetlights, at his lips gone slightly chapped in the wind and want to kiss them smooth, but think twice, knowing unfriendly eyes and cameras are always watching. It’s as if he can read your thoughts in your eyes, though, as he instead presses a kiss onto your hair that has gone even curlier with the chill. You pretend you can feel the heat of it traveling through your head, down to your chest and all throughout your body. When you see the flash of a phone camera, you go cold, turning and hiding your face in the wall of his chest. When the lights turn to voices, questions, and yells, you begin to pull away, but his hand finds yours and squeezes. The ticket line moves and he is diplomatic, talking his way out of a crowd all while his other arm weighs solid across your shoulders. You hold so tight to his fingers, you think you might break them. But he never lets go.

II.

At family dinners at chez Mbappé, French and English and Arabic blend and blur, and yet everyone is understood. You are even introduced to a cousin, with whom you and Kylian can flex your well-practiced Spanish. Over bowls of salad and rice and stew, conversations, jokes and memories fly and land and a picture comes into focus: in each of his loved ones a piece of the puzzle that makes him who he is, plus that special, unnameable thing that drew you to him in the first place. In the warmth of their presence, that thing grows and blossoms into its fullest form, stress and responsibilities shedding away until only a playful joy is left. Soon you fall under this spell, too, chatting with the adults and playing games with the children, both by his side and on your own. The fullness in your heart at what this means leaks out through your smiles, which come and stay until your face hurts too much from laughing.

What you see shining in his eyes over your dessert napkin later in the night almost frightens you with its tenderness. There are no words to describe what he wants to say, and this is no place for grand gestures, but the silent press of his lips against the back of your hand says a million words, in all of the languages you both speak.

III.

On rides home after a match, whether thrilling win or crushing loss, Kylian is defeated. He slumps into the backseat like a man twice his age, having given the most youthful part of himself to the grass and dirt glowing beneath stadium lights. You, instead, vibrate with energy, adrenaline surging so much from watching along that even your brown cheeks mimic the red stripes on his jersey. So, the two of you meet somewhere in the middle. Seatbelts are forgotten, his head rests on your chest, and your arms circle his back while you wait for your heartbeats to reach a common level.

When his lips latch on to your neck in the dark of the car, you know they are only kisses for kissing’s sake. They are a promise, a reminder, a shadow of a desire hindered only by an exhaustion that permeates his bones. So, you hold him up, enjoying the feeling, and letting him know so, fingers dragging gently along the nape of his neck. Tomorrow he will be bright and buzzing again, but for now he is a gentle giant, calm and docile as a baby, a warm weight between your arms. If he leaves marks to be found in the morning, you know what they will really mean is “thank you”.

IV.

In the mornings, you hear his voice before you see his face, and it is low and rich and as sweet to your ears as a song. His body is soft and warm beside yours in the breaking sunlight, yet he pulls you closer, hands reaching for your golden skin as if you were the sun itself.

“Ma fille d’or,” He calls you, breathing in your scent with his nose between your neck and shoulder. “I have to go.”

“Je sais.” You speak with your eyes closed. “Do you want me to get up with you?”

“Non, just stay there, just as you are. Tu est vraiment belle, tu sais?"

“J’ai entendu ça déjà, oui.”

He laughs, so close to your face you can feel the vibration, and then his lips, against your cheeks, eyelids, nose and chin. Tickling you, teasing you, and making you miss him already. You are so swept up you hardly notice when he’s stopped. You open your eyes to his apologetic, smiling face.

“A bientôt, mon amour.”

“A bientôt.”

“Au revoir.”

“Au revoir.”

He is making leaving harder than it has to be, but a final kiss on your bare shoulder makes it softer. He leaves to go get ready for training, and you turn over in bed slowly, carefully. If you don’t ruffle the sheets too much, and stay very still, you can close your eyes and imagine he’s still there.

V.

On empty evenings in your bedroom, where it is the two of you alone, your affection for each other is no longer burdened by place or time. Here, you could kiss him for hours and he would not get tired, and he is as persistent and insatiable as he is on the pitch. Whether you are on top of him, beneath him, or beside him is no matter - the sinews of his body are agile as they bend to you, your mouths drawn to each other as if by magnets behind your teeth.

Here, his kisses punctuate his needs and wants: “Non”, “Oui”, “Look at me”, “Don’t stop”, and you learn to identify his desires by their pressure. There are deep kisses, him swallowing all the sounds you make, and shallow pecks that force more sound out of you, but in each variation there is something the same. Three words, one phrase, whispered, shouted, and cursed, before, during, and after. He speaks them into your open mouth, one time in French, in Spanish, in English, and you think that no lips have ever uttered anything more beautiful. You are breathless, cradled in his strong arms, and lost in his eyes when, one by one, you kiss them back into his.

[pinkrosylux]

intro post

♡₊˚ name: i go by pink <3

♡₊˚ age: private for safety reasons !!

♡₊˚ ethnicity: mexican, spanish, and italian

♡₊˚ language: english, and i can understand most spanish but i can’t speak it very much, and I’m currently learning italian

( no other socials !! )

♡₊˚ if you’d like 2, flw my side acct @eviexxeditz where i post my edits 💋

♡₊˚ pronouns: she/her and my sexuality is straight (but i support everyone !!)

♡₊˚ always open for new moots <3 (and i luv tag games)

my irl cousin is @uzi-x33 <3 she posts her art, her edits and a lot of things anime related

i love, love, love: poetry, lana del rey, marilyn monroe, the virgin suicides, all sofia coppola movies, hello kitty, reading, ribbons, twilight, fast and furious movies, reality shows from the 2000’s, jersey shore, americana/vintage/coquette/old money aesthetics, and mexican food pretty much tops all of that

my favorite music: selena, lana del rey, aventura, romeo santos, frank ocean, brent faiyaz, summer walker, fiona apple, the smiths, hole, paramore, radiohead, xxxtentacion, lil peep, and most music out tbh 🎧

♡₊˚ dni: racism, homophobia, antisemitism, transphobia, sexism, overly-political (i respect anyone js don’t ttm about that stuff !!) overly sexual bloggers, creepy old men

i joined to post what i love and also to see people with similar interests as me and hopefully become moots with ppl similar 2 me💗

if you made it down here, thank u, and have a cake, u deserve it🎂

[pedriscroquettes]

i’m really intrigued about what you think dating pablo t would be like

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒 – PABLO TORRE

a/n. had fun writing this… 18+ 🤭

sfw

• you two would definitely meet at the club. judging from the people he hangs out with and how he’s technically a nepotism baby he gives off partying vibes.

• the beginning of your relationship consists purely of getting to know each other. dates at each others homes, restaurants, and maybe even the park just to talk.

• soon enough he’s picking you up from uni (because you’re still pursuing your degree) after practice. sometimes he even takes you out for your lunch if he has a day off.

• he doesn’t take you any of his games immediately because and quote he wants you “to get to know normal pablo first before football pablo.” it makes you like him even more.

• you meet his family eventually all of them welcoming you into the family especially his sister. and of course his mom shows you his baby pictures to which he can only burry his head into the crook of your neck to hide his embarrassment.

• once the two of you go public he’s no longer hesitant to hold your hand in public. basically his love language is physical affection. when you’re at his place watching a movie you’re always cuddling.

• when you start attending his games you always show up with his jersey. something that very much cheers him up if the team ever draws or loses. also when he doesn’t get any minutes.

• also whenever the two of you decide to take naps midday you purposely stay awake longer to just lay on his chest. his heartbeat calms you. and you have a private album on your phone full of pics of him asleep.

• once he asks you to move in you start taking catalan lessons. pablo tells you it’s not necessary but you insist wanting to get familiar with the culture. he already knows the language so he simply helps you with the accents and annunciation of certain words.

• pablo never admits it but he loves when you randomly massage his hair. it’s soothing for him and for those few minutes you spend rubbing your hands through his strands he forgets about the pressure he has on him to break out as a football prodigy.

• you also never tell him but your favorite thing about him is definitely his hair.

• in general it’s a very affectionate relationship with the two of you always showing your obvious affection for each other.

nsfw

• you expect him to be very vanilla when it comes to the bedroom by the way he acts in public but it’s quite literally the opposite.

• he’s always down for quickies whenever. “pero mami i can’t hold it till we get home you look so good in that dress.”

• heavy eye contact while he’s inside you. he loves seeing you squirm under him but most importantly he thinks you’re the prettiest thing to ever exist he can’t look away from you.

• although he’s very subby at times especially when you’re on top. he practically worships the ground you walk on.

• he loves admiring your tits as you bounce on him. his hands digging into your hips as you take him in.

• also bringing up how much he loves when you touch his hair he absolutely loves when you tug on it as he’s going down on you. it just fuels him even more.

• although it’s the opposite for quickies. he does the hair pulling then as he bends you over the sink.

• also he’s still a young spanish guy his sexual stamina is through the roof. he loves blowjobs. sometimes you’ll find yourself on the side of the road with his tip hitting the back of your throat.

• always jerking off to the photos you send him during away games.

• overall the two of you fuck like bunnies. always getting teased on by his friends. it’s a very active relationship to say the least.

[mariacallous]

The inside cover of my grandmother’s cookbook is inscribed with her handwriting, “Think of me when you cook.” It is a copy of the same spiral-bound book that has been given to all of the women in my family. “The Sephardic Cooks: Comé Con Gana” has somehow made its way from one synagogue in Atlanta to Sephardic communities and families from New Jersey to California. It has all the classic recipes, including a section titled “Main Dish Pastries.” These dishes are the cornerstone of the Sephardic tradition, desayuno.

The word “desayuno” literally translates to “breakfast” in Ladino, the dying Judeo-Spanish language historically spoken by Sephardic Jews. Yet, the meaning extends beyond that one meal. In Sephardic culture, desayunois a category of foods associated with the large Saturday morning meal that would be served after Shabbat, including egg dishes and savory pastries. 

These desayuno foods are some of my favorite things to eat and the ones I most associate with my own family traditions. The blocks of crustless quajado (spinach quiche) that always seemed to be in my childhood freezer, ready to thaw for lunch. The doughy, cheesy spinach boyos my grandmother would have ready for our breakfast every time we traveled to visit her. The pasteles (mini meat pies) my great-aunt taught to a room filled with four generations of cousins at our family reunion last summer. The rice-and-cheese-filled bureka pastries my mom comes over to make with my kids and me. 

While delicious and crowd-pleasing, these are also some of the most time-consuming recipes to prepare. I picture my great-grandmother standing in a friend’s kitchen as all the ladies of the community work together to knead mounds of dough, mix a vat of filling, fold and crimp sheets and sheets of burekas. Whether this is accurate or just my imagination justifying why it feels intimidating to make these by myself, desayuno pastries do not align well with today’s fast-paced, individual lifestyle. Save for the times my mom comes to bake with us (importantly, bringing a container of prepped filling), making dough and pastry from scratch is not happening in my kitchen. 

I hope to be a part of the thread that keeps Sephardic traditions alive, yet I do not want to let perfection be the enemy of my intentions. I think my grandmother would agree. While she baked burekas with all of her grandchildren and always had a freezer full of freshly baked rosca (coffee rolls), she was never one to turn down a good shortcut. She developed her own boyo recipe featuring Hungry-Jack biscuit dough as the base and once described to me a full lentil soup recipe, only to end it with, “or you could just buy a can of lentil soup.” She loved when I would call her to share that I had tried a Sephardic recipe, such as cinnamon biscocho cookies or lemon chicken soup. Whether my attempts had been successful or a flop (like my rock-hard biscochos), her smile would be audible through the phone saying, “I’m just so glad you tried.” 

As Sephardic culture and traditions fade and assimilate, food provides an important outlet to preserve history and share it with family and friends. More important than getting it right or spending hours in the kitchen is remembering our traditions, trying recipes, talking about or simply eating Sephardic foods, regardless of who made them.  

In that spirit, I would like to propose lowering our standards, for the greater good of keeping traditions alive. Consider a desayuno with fewer parts or with a little help from the freezer aisle. Rather than the large spread my ancestors would prepare for days in advance, consider making one thing from scratch (though I won’t tell if you cook zero things). You could make a batch of burekas or a quajado, arguably the easiest of the Sephardic breakfast dishes, or even just prepare a pot of hard-boiled eggs. Supplement with frozen spanakopita, Ta’amti Bourekas or a Trader Joe’s Greek cheese spiral for a full table. 

Nothing will taste quite like homemade pastries fresh from the oven and I still aspire to make them (occasionally). Yet, even when I munch a makeshift Sephardic meal, I will be thinking of my grandmother, just as she inscribed in her cookbook. As long as we are sharing food together, talking about Sephardic traditions, remembering meals and people who matter to us, I will call it desayuno. I think my grandmother would be proud. 

[knockoff-conlon]

modern dorlene hcs!!

Marlene:

loud. always. she said it kept her brain at bay. she liked to yell and shout and draw attention to herself.

blonde hair that gets fucking everywhere. everywhere at all times. catches on things, too, like dorcas' rings.

really bright brown eyes.

fastest runner in her elementary school and high school. VERY fast.

tall. 6'2

smart but she doesn't apply herself as a way of rebellion against her family.

neglectful, abusive family that she runs away from when she's fifteen.

her phone background is actually a picture of her and remus, not her and dorcas

closest with remus out of anyone. lived with him when she ran away. they were extremely codependent and didn't have an boundaries. james and dorcas accepted that they were a package deal

90s grungey style. a lot of flannel, ripped clothing, leather, patches.

violent. it was an unfortunate habit from her family. she would get very angry very fast and it transferred to violence, though she tried to never hit her friends and she NEVER hit dorcas.

had a running bet with remus over who would get their braces off first when they were thirteen. (she lost but says she won)

lots of tattoos. one of those people who didn't really have meaning for said tattoos. she just likes the look.

tons of piercings- about eight or nine in each ear, eyebrow, tongue, septum, nose.

musical lover. hope lupin introduced her to all her favorite musicals.

has dorcas saved in her phone as 'side-ho #1'. dorcas knows and loves it.

swears a lot. the marauders, valkyries + dorcas made a swear jar to stop her swearing so much.

jewish convert, conservative jew.

got with dorcas when she was eighteen. once they did get together, they were very close and very in love.

touchy with remus and dorcas. not with anyone else.

designer fr tho. she makes her own clothes and makes her friends' clothes, too.

smokes + she has a lighter with a dumb design on it from remus.

steals remus' clothes 24/7.

looms over people menacingly.

very severe adhd. has a habit of being distracting as shit, forgetting to eat, a hatred for certain sounds and feelings, and hates overhead lighting.

candles. all the candles.

knows how to shoot a gun and often does go to a shooting range.

part spanish and french, speaks both languages.

dyslexic.

will eat anything someone puts in front of her. from nachos to fajitas to escargot- she'll eat it all.

really strong. can lift about 450

trust issues.

hockey player.

multiple concussions.

partially deaf due to repeated head trauma from said concussions and abuse from her parents.

Dorcas

she's tiny, literally 5'0 on the dot and so she makes evan and marlene get her things on tall shelves.

gets really anxious sometimes and bites her nails because of it. pandora does complicated nail art on her nails so she feels bad biting them.

flexible as shit.

very feminine, which makes people assume she's straight.

makes her own jewelry and creates a small business of it at her high school. she makes a small fortune off her earrings.

big on romance movies, cries at them. loves horror movies, too, doesn't flinch.

resting bitch face, 100%

lives in a trailer with her dad. mom ran away when she was, like, two months old.

can play bass.

eyes so dark they're almost black.

has a tattoo on her wrist for her dad. it says 'i love you' but in his handwriting.

marlene left her hockey jersey at dorcas' place one day and now dorcas wears it to sleep.

loves to take pictures, has a lot of really embarrassing, weird photos of her friends, family, and marlene.

really good at baking, can back anything. god awful at cooking.

plant mom

fairy lights everywhere in her room.

at one point sold weed to help with the money at her place. now she does it for some extra money.

HUGE activist. got into a lot of trouble at school for it but then barty would be louder and more violent about her getting in trouble and cause a riot.

cold, all the time, no matter what.

big reader, bonded with regulus, lily, and remus over it.

atheist number one but will go to shul with marlene if she asks, specifically the high holidays.

farmer's markets, vintage festivals, and art stores are where she spends all of her money.

loves to paint but there's not enough room in her trailer so she paints outside while her dad reads beside her.

pineapple pizza is one of her favorite foods.

barty, evan, and dorcas hang out together and dye their hair with each other. regulus and pandora do not participate and hang out together elsewhere.

is super, super close with her dad and she tells him everything.

steals barty's clothing because she likes his style and men's clothing is more comfortable.

draws on her converse and marlene's leather jacket.

worships minerva mcgonagall. the art teacher.

scared of flying.

gave herself a lot of her own piercings.

Dorlene:

they have 'design dates' where marlene sits and makes clothes, and dorcas works on her jewelry/works on new art.

nauseatingly affectionate sometimes.

that one picture with the girl straddling the other one and doing her makeup. that's them.

flat is always super loud- marlene playing music and them dancing, working on their university assignments and their work.

marlene spends a lot of nights at dorcas' trailer and becomes best friends with her dad because of it.

marlene does bring donuts or coffee for them all the time.

shit talk people but in sign language.

dorcas comforts marlene during nightmares and marlene comforts dorcas during anxiety attacks.

never explained they were dating to their friends, one day just kissed goodbye and everyone just went with it.

marlene picks her up and carries her places (the doctor, cause dorcas is scared of the doctor and refuses to go)

dorcas bakes marlene cookies and muffins when she's sick.

dorcas cheers marlene on at all her hockey games, even though she finds hockey dumb.

dorcas takes marlene to vintage stores and markets and marlene always ends up carrying whatever dorcas buys.

marlene takes dorcas to shul with her on the high holidays and makes snide commentary about the people at her shul. dorcas tries learning hebrew to at least be able to follow along. doesn't work super well but marlene appreciates it anyway.

take turns deciding what movie go watch together. marlene likes action/adventure and dorcas loves a dorky romance movie.

marlene takes dorcas to italy to visit marlene's older brother. make solid plans to move there one day/honeymoon there.

road trip together with them and their friends.

can definitely do the dirty dancing lift.

had picnics on the balcony at their flat all the time. marlene used her candles to make it more atmospheric and dorcas' plants also helped.

kinda broke until marlene's fashion and designs hit it big.

femme x butch, fr tho.

dorcas used petnames all the time. marlene always got flustered and dropped what she was holding.

marlene learned how to style dorcas' hair, how to do braids and stuff like that so she could do dorcas' hair.

very in love, cutest couple ever, and kind of losers with each other.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

if you get this, answer w/ three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs. anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog !

Hi Jen!! Happy Fri-yay!! I hope your weekend gets kicked off to a great start! Thank you for sending this my way, these are always fun!

Random Fact #1 - I love learning languages. I know a decent amount of Spanish and am currently learning Portuguese. Once I feel like I pick up enough to use context clues, I like to watch shows or movies in a different language to see how well I can pick up on what's being said. I most recently watched 30 Coins on HBO without the English dubbing. (side note, if you like religious horror I 110% recommend that show. Season 1 was really good.) Next up is Paradise.

Random Fact #2 - I have a green thumb. I grew up in New Jersey and our state nickname is the Garden State and I think when I learned that as a child I took it as a responsibility to garden. I have 15 house plants (in a one bedroom apartment) and every summer I overload my balcony with tomatoes, peppers and herbs. I actually just started my seeds a few days ago! Last year we had so many peppers that at the end of the season, I dehydrated them all to use as chili flakes and we still have half the jar.

Random Fact #3 - I have my blue belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. Unfortunately I had to stop training about two years ago because I was dealing with injuries and health issues, but someday I hope to be able to get back to it. As a former marathoner, I can honestly say that training BJJ was the most intense workout I ever had in my life. I miss the adrenaline of "getting into fights" (sparring) and would love to get back in competition shape again. (Bonus fun fact, I won the Colorado state championship for my weight class in 2016) Occasionally I still dream in triangle chokes. Every now and then I slap a choke on my little brother (he's a foot taller than me) just to remind him that I can whip his ass.

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Too sweaty🌡🫂

Ona Batlle x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

(my first language isn't english nor spanish, sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes)

Summary :

You refuse to hug your girlfriend after a match because she's too sweaty. With the help of her team, she will do everything and anything to get that hug.

The final whistle blew, the sound of roaring cheers erupted across the stadium as FC Barcelona Femení secured yet another victory. The players on the field embraced, exchanging high-fives and grins as the crowd celebrated their hard-earned win. You stood in the stands, clapping and cheering, Ona had been relentless on the pitch today, showing why she was one of the best defenders in the world.

Ona spotted you almost instantly. Her eyes lit up, and with that characteristic grin of hers, she jogged over, arms wide open for the post-game hug she always demanded. You smiled, knowing exactly what was coming next, but as she got closer, you could see just how sweaty she was. Her hair clung to her forehead, her jersey was soaked through, and her skin glistened with sweat. You loved her to pieces, but there was no denying that Ona in full post-match mode was a sweaty mess.

- ¡Cariño! (Love !)

Ona called out, still grinning as she reached the edge of the stands, arms stretched wide.

- Come here!

You took a step back, hands raised in defence, laughing nervously.

- Ona, you’re—

You gestured up and down at her completely drenched form.

- —you’re a little too sweaty for that.

Ona stopped, her grin turning into a dramatic pout as she dropped her arms.

- ¿En serio? After this great match ? You’re really not going to hug me ? (Oh really?)

You shook your head, laughing.

- I love you, but I draw the line at drenched hugs. You look like you just went swimming in your kit!

Ona groaned, shaking her head in exaggerated frustration, though her eyes were still sparkling with amusement.

- It’s just a little sweat, cariño. You’ve seen me worse. (love)

- Yeah, but I didn’t have to hug you then either.

You shot back, grinning. She rolled her eyes but didn’t let up.

- Fine. No hug for now

You smirked, leaning down a little closer.

- Once you’re clean, you can have all the hugs you want.

Ona stared at you for a moment, pretending to be annoyed, but then she leaned in suddenly and gave you a quick, mischievous kiss on the cheek, pressing her sweat-covered face against yours just enough to make you recoil slightly.

- Ew, Ona!

You exclaimed, wiping at your cheek with an exaggerated grimace, but your laughter betrayed you.

- That’s payback

Ona said with a wink before jogging back to her teammates, leaving you shaking your head and laughing as you watched her retreat.

The players had started celebrating in full force, and you could see Ona being pulled into hugs. Their joy was infectious. You sighed as you watched the love of your life soaking in the victory with her team. It didn’t take long for the other girls to notice the slight pout on your girlfriends face. Alexia, having seen the scene, sidled up to Ona, raising an eyebrow as she nudged her friend.

- Entonces, ¿no te da ningún abrazo tu novia después del partido? (So, no post-game hug from your girlfriend?)

Alexia teased, her voice loud enough for you to hear. Ona groaned, but a smile crept onto her face.

- No, al parecer sudaba demasiado. (Nope. Too sweaty, apparently.)

Alexia grinned, clearly finding it hilarious.

- No puedo culparla, honestamente. (Can’t blame her, honestly)

- Pero no me rendiré. (But I’m not giving up)

Ona said determinedly, casting a glance back at you, where you stood watching them from the sidelines, waving innocently. Alexia raised her eyebrows, a mischievous glint in her eye as she quickly whispered something to the other players. You couldn’t hear what she said, but a few of them turned to look at you with knowing grins.

Before you had a chance to react, the entire team started jogging in your direction, their expressions filled with a playful determination. Your eyes widened, and you instinctively took a step back.

- Oh no, no, no,

You muttered, shaking your head as they closed in. Ona was at the front of the pack, her grin widening as she saw your reaction.

- You shouldn’t have refused the hug, cariño.

She teased, her teammates fanning out behind her like a wall of sweaty determination.

- You’re all sweaty!

You protested, starting to back up further as the group approached.

- This isn’t fair !

Alexia, laughing, called out,

- We just want to help Ona get her hug !

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Barça squad, and any chance of escape vanished. In a whirlwind of laughter and playful jostling, they scooped you up, passing you straight into Ona’s waiting arms. Ona, grinning victoriously, pulled you into a tight hug, ignoring your protests as she pressed her sweaty body against yours. You squirmed, but it was no use. The team had made sure you weren’t going anywhere.

- Gotcha

Ona whispered, her face close to yours, her eyes full of affection despite the playful scene. You sighed in defeat, trying to suppress your laughter as you rested your head against her shoulder.

- Okay, okay. You win. But you’re still really sweaty.

- I’ll take it

She replied with a laugh, kissing your cheek again. The team cheered and clapped, clearly amused by the whole spectacle. You couldn’t help but laugh too, the warmth of the moment washing over you despite being covered in your girlfriend’s post-game sweat.

As the players finally dispersed and Ona loosened her grip on you, you looked up at her with a smirk.

- Next time, maybe I’ll bring a towel.

Ona grinned, her eyes twinkling.

- Or you could just hug me straight after every game, no matter what.

You pretended to think about it.

- Hmm... no promises.

She laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist as the two of you walked off together.

- You’ll come around eventually.

And as you walked side by side, with the stadium lights dimming and the echoes of the crowd still ringing in your ears, you knew that sweaty hugs or not, you wouldn’t trade these moments with her for anything in the world.

[msphoenixx]

May I request NY and Texas hc’s 👁️👁️

Ahhh thank you so much for the ask!! And my first one ever I think, I didn’t have my inbox open when I used this account ages ago. Sorry I responded so late, the universe decided I wouldn’t have free time after I made my intro post lol. Anyway, some Texas hcs:

Texas has a MASSIVE amount of religious trauma in addition to everything he went through with his dad. Behind the mask he’s a very insecure person. Poor guy needs a hug and some therapy (tbh all of these guys need therapy).

He secretly loves gardening flowers, but he was never allowed to do it growing up because it was “too feminine” of an activity. He now grows both food and flowers. I think his favorites are bluebonnets (of course), and sunflowers. He only shares his garden with people he’s very close to.

Will literally melt into a puddle around any animal, but especially dogs and reptiles. He has two dogs and a bunch of reptiles as pets. A large room at his personal residence is dedicated to his pets. He has lizards, snakes, and a tortoise.

He 100% knows Spanish, but he’s just a little rusty from lack of use.

He can play the accordion and the guitar, but the guitar is his favorite.

I think that the states would be able to change form (both willingly and unwillingly), but I think most of them have a form that they like using the most. I keep switching on what I think Texas’s default form would look like. I think he’s very tan and has dark brown, almost black hair but sometimes I see him with a lighter brown hair color. He has either wavy or curly hair. He’s around 6’5 and very muscular.

New York:

Rarely goes anywhere without some kind of hat. It doesn’t always have to be a beanie, but he needs something on his head to be comfortable.

Considering he has NYC, he probably has excellent fashion sense. He can probably make regular loungewear look like it belongs on the runway

Will only be vulnerable around Jersey and their kids (huge Yorksey fan lol).

Severe PTSD and anxiety from everything throughout his history. Tbh I think the entire northeast deals with that. They can kind of sense when one of them is having a bad day and they help each other out in their own weird ways.

So many pets. So many. Rats, mice, pigeons, cats, and dogs. Every time he brings another animal home, Jersey just doesn’t have the heart to say no.

Is good friends with the Canadian provinces, especially Ontario and Quebec since they’re the closest.

He knows Dutch, Spanish, Italian, and probably some Chinese. He likes learning new languages.

New York’s default form is kinda of like a nutty brown hair, very pale skin, and he usually has some amount of facial hair. He’s around 5’11 or 6 ft. He isn’t very muscular but has more of a bulky body type? Not sure how to describe it.

I hope this wasn’t too rambly but thank you again for the ask!

[spidertalia]

Alrighty, meet my girl Pennsylvania !!!

Her human name is Rebecca Ida Franklin, and she's physically 23. She's the 13th oldest state, and celebrates her birthday on December 12th.

Rebecca has an interesting personality. She's hardworking, intelligent, calm, industrious, observant, patient, down-to-earth, level headed, loyal and slightly curt at times, though usually unintentionally. She's typically no-nonsense and serious when it comes down to it, and she's a very hard worker. She's good about getting stuff done and does dislike laziness, but she's not one to berate others for it. Some more fun facts about her:

She's 5'10 or 178 cm in height. She's one of the tallest female states, only being shorter than Alaska and California.

She has roughly type 1C hair

She's Delaware's little sister, though ironically she's a full six inches taller than him.

Outside of the Indigenous languages in her state, she speaks English, Spanish, Dutch, German, Hebrew and Pennsylvania Dutch fluently. She speaks Swedish quite well, and speaks some Cantonese, Mandarin, French and Yiddish.

She's religiously Jewish.

She played the biggest role in the American Industrial Revolution, providing a lot in the way of steel, iron ore and textiles. As such, she has a deep love and skill for mechanics, engineering, construction, technology and anything of the sort. She can repair cars, remodel homes, fix broken wiring, design vehicles and many other things. It's a skill she's kept to this day.

She loves dogs, and exclusively owns Great Danes and German Shepherds.

She will actively complain about literally any type of weather. Outside of the weather, however, she hates complaining and will avoid doing so.

She's overall the 13th oldest state, but among the 13 colonies, she's the 10th oldest. She was physically 15 during the American Revolution, and stole two houses from England during it.

She's generally pretty respectful and keeps to herself. She always minds her own business, and dislikes getting wrapped up in other peoples drama or problems; however, she's always willing to lend a hand with anything mechanical.

She's the go-to car mechanic for many of the states, and Alfred himself.

She gets along well with Germany, Netherlands and Sweden, but she will argue with England pretty much on sight. She's friends with a few of the other states, such as Virginia and Rhode Island.

She argues a lot with New Jersey, though he starts most of it.

She doesn't necessarily dislike high-tech things, and will use super high-tech things if they make her life easier. However, she is generally wary of new technology and prefers to use her old, tried and true methods.

She does use technology and such quite often, but she does like doing things without technology when she can.

Like many of the other 13 colony states, she remains quite close to Alfred. She actually hosted his first official birthday party, and continues to often host his birthday parties.

She's one of the physically stronger states, thanks to her hobby of working with heavy machinery.

She's surprisingly very into snacking and junk food.

Her accent actually tends to switch depending on where she is. If she's staying in Philadelphia she tends to take on a Philadelphian accent, but outside of the city her accent leans towards Appalachian.

She had long hair up until the Industrial Revolution, when she cut it short to avoid any accidents.

She has at least one scar- a burn mark on her shoulder from the burning of Pennsylvania Hall.

Her likes include: Mechanics, hunting, hershey's chocolate, dogs, beer, cheesesteaks, chocolate, Wawa, Sheetz, tastykakes, ham, scrapple, molasses, shoofly pie, chicken pot pie, being outdoors, fixing things, cars, the outdoors, german food, snacks, swimming, reading, libraries, movie theaters, ferris wheels, tinkering, machinery, inventing

Her dislikes include: The weather, humidity, England, drama

This is all I have right, now, but I will be posting more about her later. If I have anyone from Pennsylvania here, please feel free to leave suggestions for her !

[ladyseidr]

okay long Lore Dump about jeremy for anybody who loves him even half as much as i do

born and raised in new jersey a decision i purely made because he had a NJ accent in my head for literally no reason

father is deceased by the time he moves to hurricane, but he had a close, loving relationship with him

moves to hurricane with his mother, who he is also extremely close with. he lives with her in all verses ( minus the one where he isn't bitten and he and michael end up renting a shitty place together lmao )

fluent in both english and spanish, as he grew up in bilingual household

mostly has a new jersey accent, but his mexican accent comes out on certain words + gets stronger when talking with his mother ( who has a stronger accent herself )

not out as bisexual to his mom, even though he doesn't exactly hide it around people his own age ( within the bounds of reasonable safety, to be clear ). she's not necessarily homophobic, he more so doesn't know how she feels abt it Period. however, he can ( and does ) come out to her, like, the moment he officially gets with a guy.

( she is surprised but takes it well. big She's A Little Confused But She's Got The Spirit energy in the end )

on that note, has had one ( 1 ) girlfriend before when he was like. 15. they broke up before he could even invite her to prom and honestly it was just an awkward, high school relationship. he also has had hookups with a couple of guys, but that's the extent of his Experience when he arrives in hurricane

i joke abt him being flirty sometimes, but please understand it's only within the bounds of A. knowing someone isn't bothered by, B. being pretty sure the person is into him, and C. being sooooo attracted to them. he does not do this with ppl outside of those rules ( although he is a very, like, complimentary and affectionate person with anybody )

yes i am implying that he Knows michael is into him which is extra funny when you consider that ( my ) michael is trying very hard to not let that be known

acts confident, but it's like. 1/3 bullshit.

nipples pierced. sorry i need that in an Official Headcanon Post.

already made a post abt it, but he has a motorcycle and no other means of transportation. on one hand, it makes him look cool and he likes that. on the other? very inconvenient at times.

mother works long hours, sometimes night shifts, so jeremy sometimes handles cooking meals

they also regularly have pizza night like once a month when his mom gets off late in the evening <3

so, this is all Dependent On Your Own Portrayal Of Michael, but generally i write yvonne, his mom, as really liking michael. why did i think to include this hc? because i remembered an idea i had once of her wanting to include michael on pizza night ( cries sobs etc )

jeremy was raised catholic and his mom still is, but he is not religious himself

hasn't really decided what he wants to with his life yet, but has been working part-time jobs since he was able. yvonne encouraged him to not immediately look for work when they moved to hurricane and just take his time getting to know the place first, so he spends a couple months just chilling. after that, he works at a one place before taking up the job at fred.dy's

biiiiiig humor guy, like if you can make him laugh he'll love you forever

top love languages, in order: quality time, acts of service, physical touch

romantically, falls quickly and falls hard

always down to help out, like if you need him? he's there. "loyal" is a defining characteristic for him.

yes he styles his hair every single day. yes he also keeps it bleached / dyed regularly. he'll let the roots show for a bit, but not long

punk-leaning alt with a love for leather and denim

shipping or not, he's michael's number one defender despite the fact that he literally didn't even live in hurricane in 1983 lmao

has never one time in his entire life been to a pizzeria like fre.ddy's so he initially thinks the animatronics are super fucking cool! right up until he doesn't—

i go with jeremy having been bit in the daytime at the birthday party during his last shift. he really does survive his final night, but he gets too close during the dayshift

by default, he doesn't die. it's an extremely long healing process, during much of which he's unconscious and it's thought that he might die. the long-term consequences are various, but the major things he struggles with are short-term memory and risk assessment. personality changes after frontal lobe damage are thought to be myths, so this is not a part of the aftermath for him.

[dhampiravidi]

I Loved You Then, I Love You Still (1/2)

Jason Todd did not like Jayn. And she was fine with that.

Jayn arrived at Wayne Manor with red-rimmed eyes. Despite her having flown from California to New Jersey, she had no luggage. She had nothing except the clothes on her back and a sealed letter that was addressed to Bruce. Alfred coaxed her out of the town car, and she was trembling, exhausted emotionally. He led her through what looked like a damn museum and she passed out as soon as she was given a bed to sleep in. When she woke up (still fully dressed), she used the bathroom and then went downstairs, following the smell of food. She hadn't realized that her mother's letter was gone until she saw it in Bruce Wayne's hand.

The letter was written to her, which she hadn't expected. But thirteen year-olds don't expect to telekinetically hurl water at a bully, or to be driven to the airport instead of straight home after school, or to watch their mother be escorted off of a plane and into a car while they're already seated. In the letter, her mommy apologized for lying. Her mommy told her that her father was Bruce Wayne, who used to be her boss and boyfriend thirteen years before. Her mommy explained how Jayn was a metahuman, and that the people who wanted the superhuman serum inside of her took her away. Jayn didn't react to the part that said her new father was Batman, because she was busy sobbing. It was too much. The boy her age, who sat at the dinner table, had an unreadable expression. Her father hugged her, but she wouldn't hug back.

He/Bruce/her father made sure she had lots of clothes in her size. Alfred helped her pick them out, because Bruce was busy working. It all seemed fake. She didn't want lots of clothes, or a bedroom in a mansion, or a new parent. She wanted her old clothes, and her room with the sunset that her mom's friend had painted, and her mother. Jayn went from sad to angry very quickly. Wherever she went, the room was cold. She hardly spoke to anyone.

And then Jason called her a bitch. In Spanish, her Mommy's language. Her FIRST language. Long story short, her punishment was to join Jason in the exercises he did as part of his Robin training. His punishment was just being there with her, apparently. But at least he got to be a hero. At least he got to have fun at school. Bruce wanted her homeschooled, so that the people who took her mom didn't find her.

Things changed when Jason broke his hand on patrol. Jayn told herself that she didn't feel bad for him. He was always gloating about being her in the weightlifting and running drills, even though he was the one who had months of being Robin as an advantage. And with a broken hand, he was exempt from half of the exercises as it was. But one day, she was walking by the library and found him, struggling to push the rolling ladder. Bruce had told her and Jason that they weren't supposed to climb it by themselves, because they could easily get hurt (even with training, she was only 5'1" and Jason was shorter than her).

"Bruce told us not to do that," she muttered, stopping just because she'd rather lag behind than go start on her French homework.

"Fuck off." Jason actually cursed more than she did, but they both had to hide it from the adults of the house.

"Fine." She was going to leave until she saw how dangerous it would be for him, climbing with one hand--especially if he planned on carrying more than one book on his way down. "Ugh. Move and guard the hall." He hesitated for a moment, then did as she told him. "What book did you want?"

"Hamlet." Jayn grabbed the thing, along with a book that happened to catch her eye, and quickly scurried back down to earth, not wanting to be banned from any more of Alfred's baking (it was the worst punishment you could get, aside from having to run extra laps).

"Why didn't you just look it up and read it?"

Jason scoffed, but there was a little less venom in that than usual. He actually looked...embarrassed? "...GA's doing it for the winter play."

"Who are you trying out for?"

"Hamlet. Or Horatio."

"That's his best friend, right?" Jayn wasn't a big fan of Shakespeare, but she wasn't uncultured, either. Jason nodded. He walked off toward the hall, then stopped.

"What book did you get?"

"Sherlock Holmes. An anthology." His eyes brightened, even though he tried to look bored. "You can read it next week, when I'm done."

So they first bonded over their love of books and plays. He was mostly into nineteenth-century classics, like Jane Eyre, while she preferred modern fiction, but they found some titles that they liked to talk about together. She helped him prepare for his audition, and helped Alfred make Jason's favorite cookies so they were ready after school (despite Jason losing the role of Hamlet, he got Horatio). He showed her how to pick locks and do basic mechanical work, so she coached him in swimming and in Spanish (he also helped her learn French and his Italian).

The first time Jayn hugged Jason was when he (with Alfred's help) convinced Bruce to let her patrol with them, as Kestrel.

The first time she thought he was cute was when she'd had a terrifying nightmare after a breakout at Arkham and he'd stayed with her until she fell asleep (yes, he was still there in the morning, bedhead and all).

The first time she realized she was in love with him was when he got a girlfriend (they lasted exactly 41 days). Jayn may have created a thunderstorm the night of their first date.

They didn't have anyone they wanted to ask to prom (at least, that's what they told Bruce), so they figured they'd go together. They even chose to match, his tie to her dress.

Jason Todd was killed seventeen days before Gotham Academy's prom. Jayn didn't go to prom. She didn't go to the funeral. She didn't go to Oxford, which both she and her best friend had gotten accepted to. To all outward appearances, she just disappeared.