#(haha i wonder why i find the idea of being trapped in a room and only having insubstantial images for comfort so viscerally distressing?)

[minus-plus-zer0]

Beauty Pageant Headcanons

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

You entered the U.A. Cultural Festival's beauty pageant, with Bakugou acting as your coach.

How the hell did this happen? Well, you both lost a bet with Ashido, that's how.

The girl ships you two pretty hard, and although she doesn't always say it directly, it's obvious from her behavior. She rigged the bet in her favor just to get you together like this.

Bakugou's livid, but you hold him back from committing murder. You're really good at keeping Bakugou out of prison, it's like your second Quirk at this point.

So instead Bakugou turns his attention to you, and he starts ranting about how it's not TECHNICALLY murder if they don't find the body, but you're not having it and you're really just fighting for Ashido's life here.

Ashido knows not to invest in life insurance, but instead to invest in YOU. That's why she's letting you deal with this while she scurries into hiding for the foreseeable future.

Anyways, you and Bakugou are stuck together. Lucky you!

He's blaming you for this, since he knew it was a trap by Ashido. But you were just too cute and sweet, too willing to go along with whatever Ashido was planning, and that's what got you into this mess. He's really trying to convince you to not defend her at every chance, like you do with EVERY Bakusquad member he attacks, but it's hard to find his arguments persuasive when her life is in mortal peril, so you dismiss his anger pretty easily.

He HATES having his anger dismissed, and this only makes him more pissed. You try to calm him down, like you always do, all sweetness and smiles.

You're actually not even 100% against the idea of entering a beauty pageant, so it was easier to convince you than it was to coerce Bakugou into even being here. He can't understand your giddiness right now, it's more confusing to him than Ashido's.

But Bakugou is yelling your ear off while you check out the various clothes available on the clothing rack. You're trying to find something real cute and your style, but there's nothing that catches your eye. You're still looking through the racks and you're a little worried nothing is gonna look good on you.

Bakugou notices you worrying and he criticizes a lot of the outfits available here. He's got an eye for fashion, given that his parents work in the industry. But he usually doesn't pay attention to fashion magazines, models, beauty pageants, it's all stupid useless shit to him. That's another thing you disagree on.

But you're a bit embarrassed about wearing any of these outfits around him, knowing he's so critical. Regardless, he's grabbing some clothes off the rack and pushing them towards you and directing you to the changing room to try it on. Shyness be damned.

You put on the first outfit he gave you, but it's showing a bit too much skin and you're wondering what the heck was running through his mind while he picked this.

He's telling you to show yourself already so he can judge it but you're no fool. You say you can check it over yourself haha, no need to see this and to embed it into your memory forever haha!

Well he doesn't agree. "Stop being shy and get over here!"

"Make me!"

He can't exactly do that, now can he? He's flustered at the thought.

"...Can you please come out? I won't fucking judge you, alright?"

'Please' is a rare word coming out of his mouth, and you're one of the few he tells it to. So you do as he asks.

You emerge from the changing area, wearing the outfit he picked. He's checking you out in a thoughtful and not creepy way.

"That one doesn't work," he says, paying no attention to your offended expression. "Try the next one."

This goes on for the next few outfits. You didn't know what he was looking for, but he wasn't getting it. To be honest, you weren't really fond of how some of the outfits looked on you either, which made the whole thing more disappointing. Your earlier giddiness is gone.

"Can we stop?" you ask. "It feels like I'm ugly no matter what I'm wearing."

Bakugou opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. He looks like he's thinking his next words over carefully. Then, the words fall right out of his mouth before he can stop them.

"You're NOT ugly. They're all gorgeous, but none of them are the best. We need the best to win."

You're shocked he just called you 'gorgeous', but he's shoving you back into the changing room before you can keep looking at his embarrassed face.

After trying on some more outfits and being repeatedly shoved around by a red-faced Bakugou, you emerge one final time. Still red, Bakugou is now grinning like a serial killer and you hope that means good things.

"Perfect." Bakugou's grabbing your hand and he's pulling you out of the dressing room. "We gotta go practice your routine!"

Before you can even comment on his reaction, you're at an adjacent private training ground for contestants. You're distracted by trying to get him all tomato-faced again. You're pinching his cheeks saying "Where did that other guy go? The one whose face could change colors? You looked so similar, was he your cousin?" but Bakugou's warding you off and telling you to work on your form.

You spend a few hours perfecting it until Bakugou's finally happy. By the end, you're questioning Bakugou about why the heck he even cares so much, but he's telling you that it's getting late and you both should shower and get some dinner.

Post-shower and dinner, you're looking around for Bakugou who's been avoiding you all evening. You're a little hurt. You text him asking him why he's ignoring you. He finally texts back, saying he's not ignoring you and to come over.

You're allowed into his dorm room, and he's waiting for you on the balcony. He's out here alone in the dark, with the balcony lights on and with nothing but his phone. His screen shows your texts.

You take a seat beside him and then pinch his cheeks.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For avoiding me like I've caught a disease! Bakugou, I thought we were buddies?"

He's grumbling to himself. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, dummy."

"Then what were you doing?"

He's looking away from you and you're trying to catch his expression. Then, he finally meets your gaze, embarrassed but determined.

"I know you care a lot about this crap, and it'd make you sad if I didn't even fucking try to help out. It's not my fucking thing, but I'll make sure you win."

He looks a little torn before he says the next thing.

"Because I love you, alright?"

You're kissing him now and he's shocked, you almost wish you could've taken a photo of that cute flabbergasted face before he pulls you in by the collar, kissing you back. It's his first kiss and you stole it right from under him, and he couldn't be happier.

The big day comes. You've prepared as much as you can with your (now) boyfriend the night before. Ashido is nowhere to be found, she'll likely in the crowd somewhere.

You complete your routine as planned, it's very cute and it's very you, but it wasn't a crowd favorite. Nejire ends up winning anyways. Bakugou doesn’t get it, all he’s seeing is you after the contest is over, happy as hell he picked out that outfit for you because you look great in it as he's kissing you passionately.

To him, he still knows you're the best in his heart, and that's what matters most. He's happy knowing that he got you and that Ashido's days are still numbered.

You enjoy the rest of the Cultural Festival, and you and Bakugou make sure to find some private alone time now and again…

Until Ashido texts you, saying "So have you asked him out yet?"

[itsnesss]

I don't normally request, haha, but I haven't been able to find many fics for this idea. Could you do nam-gyu smut, the prompt being "He knows how to get you to choose O." As in voting to stay? Tyy, if you want to do this. I love your works sm! Have a good night/day!! ♥︎

𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 "𝐎" | nam-gyu (player 124) × fem!reader

summary | nam-gyu challenges you to decide whether to stay or leave. with his control and manipulation, you soon realize what you truly want is to stay, giving in to his influence

warnings | smut, manipulation, power dynamics, explicit content, p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 1.4 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The room is cold, the lights flicker, and the constant hum of the monitors seems to drown out any attempt to think. In the distance, the echo of other players discussing their decisions fills the air, but your thoughts are focused on one thing. The decision. The vote.

"Stay or go." That is the question that has been haunting your mind since you arrived here. No one really knows what will happen after tonight, but the option to leave has stopped being as clear as it seemed at first.

Nam-gyu is standing in front of you, his dark eyes locked onto yours. You have no idea when he approached, nor how he managed to make you feel so vulnerable. But there he is, in his usual position of power. He always knows how to make people follow him. What you don't know is why you are so willing to follow him too.

"You know what you have to do," he murmurs, getting a little closer. The tension in the air is palpable, and you can't help but feel the weight of his words. "Stay or leave." Choose."

"Whatever you decide, you'll do it for me," he says, his voice low and filled with a confidence that sends shivers down your spine. He knows you too well. You know that he knows how to make you feel small, how to manipulate your emotions, how to influence your decisions.

You look into his eyes, searching for a clue, an indication of what he really wants from you. But you only find that fierce, intense gaze, as if he were testing you, challenging you.

"And if I decide to stay..." you whisper, even though you already know the answer. "What do you want in return?"

He smiles, that arrogant smile that takes your breath away. Without saying a word, he moves closer, his hands gently resting on your waist. You feel the heat of his body, the beat of his heart, and something inside you crumbles. You can't resist.

"You don't have to say anything," he murmurs in your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. "I just want you to choose what you desire most."

You don't fully understand it, but something in his tone, in the way he touches you, makes your mind go hazy. Fear, doubt, everything that had held you back before disappears in that moment. The only thing that matters is what he wants, what he makes you feel.

His mouth finds yours in a quick, demanding kiss, as if he were already claiming what he knows is his. You feel his desire, his control, and for a moment, you wonder if your decision was ever really yours.

"Choose O," he says, his voice full of power and persuasion, and you know that what he is really saying is "choose to stay." "Because I know what you really want."

You feel trapped, but instead of wanting to escape, you surrender. Because you know that in this game, in this world, Nam-gyu is in control. And in the end, you realize that you made the easiest decision of all.

The one about surrendering to him, the one about accepting his control. The one to choose to stay.

Putting aside your fears and worries to let him take the reins. Let him guide you to what you truly desire. Even though you know it could cost you everything, you decide it doesn't matter. Because if there's one thing you've learned, it's that some decisions can only be made under pressure, under desire.

"Alright," you whisper in his ear.

And he smiles. He knows victory. It knows you. And he takes you with him. To a place where freedom doesn't exist, but you don't need it either. Because after all, you only have one option.

Stay. With him. Because he is what makes you feel complete. And in return, he will give you everything you could ask for.

"You are mine," he whispers in your ear. "You chose to stay, you chose me." Now you are mine.

You nod, knowing there's no turning back. That there is only one answer to everything that is happening.

"Yes," you whisper.

Take the opportunity to go to the bathroom and you follow him, knowing that you are his. You can't help it, and you don't want to either.

"Let's go," he says, and you follow without hesitation.

You don't need anyone to explain to you what's going to happen. You know. You have known it from the beginning.

"Just go with the flow," he tells you on the way to the bathroom.

You don't need to ask why, or what is going to happen there. You just know that you have to accept their control, their will.

And you do it.

You enter the bathroom, and he follows you, the door closes behind you.

"I know you want this," he says.

"There's no turning back," he whispers in your ear, holding you tightly in his arms and pulling you closer to him.

"Take it all off," he orders.

And you do what he says. You take off the green uniform, the bra, and the panties, and you stand naked before him.

You can't help but blush, but he doesn't seem to mind.

"That's it, you're my girl," he says.

You feel the heat of his hands on your hips, on your buttocks, on your legs. You feel his fingers exploring your body, stopping at your nipples, at your crotch.

"Is that what you want?" he asks you.

"Yes," you murmur.

His smile is the answer you need.

You don't want more. That's all you need to leave everything in their hands. You know you can't control anything. Neither your body nor your reactions.

"You want my cock," he says, and you can feel it hardening in his pants.

"Yes," you sigh.

And you can feel him getting a little closer, as his mouth rests on your chest, on your nipples. You feel how he sucks hard, how he pulls your nipple down. You feel the pressure between your legs, the desire for him to let you in.

"That's it," he murmurs in your ear and you can feel his warm breath, his breath on your skin.

He kisses you on the mouth with strength, with passion. You can feel the moisture on your lips, the taste of his mouth, the firmness of his arms around you.

"Mmmm..." you moan a little as you feel his fingers inside you.

"You're so wet..." he murmurs, and you can feel his smile on your lips.

"Yes..." you admit a bit embarrassed.

"Good girl..." he murmurs.

You can feel his fingers, his saliva on your nipples, his mouth on your neck. Everything is so intense, so exciting that you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to orgasm.

"Please..." you whisper, imploring.

"What do you want?"

"I don't know..."

"Yes, you know what you want," he corrects you.

"Just tell me how you want me to make you scream.."

he asks you and you can feel the firmness in his arms.

"I don't know..." you admit.

"So tell me, how do you want me to do it?" he asks you.

"I don't know..."

"But you know what I want," he tells me. "You know I'm not going to stop until you scream like a bitch."

You can feel the sweat on your back, the heat on your cheeks. You feel more and more lost, more and more under his control.

"But I don't know..." you whimper a little.

"Just tell me you want me to put it in you," he says.

You say it, just like that, and without warning, he takes one of your legs and thrusts into you forcefully.

"Aaaaahhh..." you moan loudly as you feel him penetrate every inch of your pussy with his cock.

"Mmm...," he murmurs as he enters you over and over again. "You're so hot..."

You can feel how each thrust makes you moan louder. The sensation is so intense that you can feel the orgasm close.

"That's it... That's it..." you whisper, and I can feel the tears in your eyes. "I'm close..."

"That's right, we're going to make you scream like a little bitch," he says. "We're going to make sure you can't walk for several days..."

You can't respond, you just moan louder and louder as the orgasm approaches.

"That's it...", you whisper. "That's it..."

"That's a good girl..." he murmurs.

You let out one last loud moan and feel him release inside you.

You can feel his semen spilling inside your inner walls, how his cock shakes harder and harder inside you. You can feel every drop of semen spilling, each thrust slower than the last. You can feel that he has finished.

"That's it..." you whimper weakly as he pulls away from you.

He nods, the proud smile on his lips.

"That's it," he murmurs. "You are a good girl."

You look at him, breathless, and you feel small before him. You know it will always be this way. That you will always be under their control.

[mythica0]

lee telemachus ler Penelope?

Like if telemachus is sad one night missing his dad and having terrible anxiety Penelope notices and decides to cheer him up?

Wondering

🎂:Epic the musical

🧁:Telemachus

🍫:Penelope

Summary: Penelope finds her son awake in the middle of the night, wondering and longing about his dad. She decides to cheer him up.

A/N: HURT/COMFORT MY FAVORITE! Thank you so much for this request!! It’s a little shorter than I’d like, but whatevs. Enjoooyyy!

Wondering

It was late.

Telemachus knew that, but he couldn’t get himself to sleep. He was thinking about his dad, muttering quietly to himself.

“Did he ever have sleepless nights, before the war? Does he now? Does he look up at the sky at night and think about us?”

He had many nights like this, whispering quietly to himself about all the things he wondered about his father. “I wonder what he looks like now. Is he the same as he was 20 years ago? Or is he now ragged, disheveled. Or maybe he looks even more heroic and impressive than he did before.”

Telemachus sighed, rolling over. Not like it would help him sleep. “Does he have fears? What makes him happy? What are his hobbies, his interests?”

Penelope happened to hear him, as she walked back towards her room after using the bathroom.

She leaned in towards the closed door, listening.

“I wonder what his hugs feel like. Are they a little too tight? Are they warm? Is he the type to playfully ruffle my hair before pulling away?”

Penelope smiled, soft and fond, but with a hint of sadness. She then slowly creaked open the door, deciding that her son needed her in this moment.

Telemachus heard the sound of the door opening, and turned to look, a little surprised.

“Mother?”

She sighed slightly. “I heard what you were talking about.”

Telemachus looked a little embarrassed. “..oh.”

“Scooch.” She playfully demanded, and Telemachus did so, sitting up to make room for Penelope to sit next to him.

“It’s just one of those nights, huh?”

Telemachus sighed, curling into himself a bit. “Yeah.”

“I often wonder about what he’s like too. How he’s changed since he left.”

Telemachus didn’t address the statement. He didn’t really know how. So he just asked a question.

“Do you think he’ll love me? After all this time? Do you think he’ll be proud of the man I’ve become?”

Penelope smiled that sad smile again, pulling her son close. “Of course, dear. I can tell from the way he looked at you when you were born- he loves you like nothing else.”

Telemachus laughed, but it didn’t really have any humor behind it. “Except for you, mother.”

Penelope gave a humorless laugh as well in reply. “Maybe.”

They stay in a comfortable silence for a moment, Penelope stroking his hair in a comforting manner. He looked so… sad. She didn’t know what to do about it.

That is, until an idea struck her.

“You know.. despite being a very powerful soldier, there is one weakness your father has.”

“Really? What is it?” He asked, looking at her curiously.

She leaned in and spoke quietly. “He’s very ticklish.”

Without giving Telemachus time to prepare or respond, she started to scratch her long nails along his belly, making him burst into a fit of giggles.

“Mohohotheher!”

“Looks like you’re no different, hmm? Maybe you have more similarities to your father than I thought.”

“Mohohother, stohohop! Thahat tihihickles!”

“Of course it tickles! I’m tickling you, silly!” She smiled, much more genuine joy behind it this time.

Telemachus was smiling now too, squirming and wiggling in Penelope’s hug that now felt more like a trap.

“Hmm, I wonder if you and your father have the same tickle spots.” She wondered aloud, to tease Telemachus. “Guess we’ll have to find out, hmm?”

“Nohohoho, dohont!”

Penelope knew exactly what to do when he said that. It’s exactly what Odysseus would have done. “Don’t what?”

“Tihihickle mehehe!”

“Tickle you? Why of course, my son!” She smiled, moving her hands up to scratch and pinch at his ribs.

“Thahahats nohot whahat ihihi meheheant!”

“Haha, that was one of your father’s favorite tricks.”

“Reheheally?”

“Yup. He’s quite good at this too. Maybe I’ll have to ask him to gang up on you when he gets home.”

“Nohohoho-!”

“Yes! Anyway, where were we? Ah, yes, testing your tickle spots.” She continued to scratch at his ribs for a moment, before moving up to his underarms.

His giggles broke into laughter, his face scrunched into an adorable smile. “Mohohohother!”

“Ah, seems like this is a shared spot! He’s quite ticklish here as well.”

“Ehahahaha stohohohop!”

“Hmm.. no. I don’t think I will. There are still so many places to try! How abouuuut.. here?” She teased, moving further up and scribbling at his neck and ears. His laughter became quick, bubbly giggles once again, scrunching his shoulders fruitlessly against the touch. “Eee! Mohohother-!”

“Aww, such adorable giggles, my little prince~” She cooed, causing a bright pink blush to erupt on Telemachus’ face. Penelope continued the touches on his neck for a moment, before trailing down and starting to trace his back.

Telemachus squeaked, his giggles increasing.

“So you do have a ticklish back! Not nearly as much as Ody does, though” Penelope chuckled, drawing little spirals and circles along his spine, laughter bubbling up from his chest without end.

Telemachus was protesting, but he was very much happy this was happening. Not only because the tickles may or may not feel kinda nice, but because he was learning about his father. His weaknesses, the way he would be playful and fatherly if he were around. The information on his sensitivity made him seem more real, more grounded to Telemachus, less like an ideal glow that he could only dream of, the image fleeting any time he tried to get a decent grip on it.

Penelope then moved to squeeze his sides, making his giggles grow squeaky for a moment at the change in location.

“Ah- ahahaha- mohohotheher- plehehehease-!”

“You’re so ticklish, son!”

“Stohohohop ihihit!”

“No can do! We haven’t tested all your tickle spots yet! Hmm, let’s see..” she then started to scratch at his thighs and hips, which made his giggles die down a bit.

“So that’s not a shared spot, your father has very ticklish thighs. What aboooout… here?” She moved down to his feet, making him kick a little.

“Hey! Will you stop that, I’m trying to test something here!”

“Cahahahant hehehelp ihihit! Ehehehehehehahaha-!”

“Okay, okay, so you’re nice and ticklish here.”

“Mohohohom! Pleheheheheheaseeee!”

“Alright alright, just one more thing. For fun.” She took a deep breath, getting panicked giggles out of her son, before blowing a massive raspberry right in the center of his tummy, making him laugh much louder.

“AHAHA- mohohohoooom!”

Penelope let up, embracing her son in a tight hug.

“Good to know that you’re still as weak to raspberries as you were when you were a baby.”

Telemachus blushed and whined at the teasing. “Moooooom.”

Penelope chuckled. “Alright, alright I’m done.” She pulled back from the hug, looking into her son’s eyes with love.

“You think you’re ready to go to sleep now?”

“Yeah..” as if to prove his point, the sentence was punctuated with a yawn as he lied back down. “Thanks, mom. G’night.”

“Night, Telemachus.” She whispered, walking away and closing the door as Telemachus fell asleep.

———THE END———————————————————-

[rainydaydally]

Here in this labyrinth (I’m trapped) Chapter 2

WARNINGS: Transphobia Being outed Homophobia Dysphoria Misgendering Deadnaming Stress Cussing Crying Arguing Fighting

3:57, Kyle arrives home from school. He slumps up the stairs, and enters his room. He drops his backpack onto the floor by his bed and climbs into his bed. He reaches for his phone on his nightstand, and starts to scroll on instagram.

3:57, Cartman is at home, scrolling through the photos he took of Kyle’s diary, now being able to read the words thoroughly without being caught. Eventually, Cartman thinks of a plan. “I will send it to Bebe and Clyde, so when they talk about it at school (because they cant keep their mouths shut) they will be overheard by others, and it will spread and spread to the point it can’t be connected back to me.” He thinks to himself.

3:58, Kyle decides to text Stan a question he’s been wondering a while. “Hey, where did you (and kenny) even find my diary?”

3:58, Stan looks up from the video game he was playing and looks at the text on his phone. “Sh*t.” Stan whispers, turning off his video game. He screenshots the text and sends it to Kenny. “What the f*ck do I say?”

3:59, Cartman comes up with an even better idea to spread the truth about Kyle.

3:59, Kenny checks his about ten years old andriod, and it reads a text from Stan. Kenny quickly texts back. “Just say we found it on the floor in the hall… unless you want to tell him that CARTMAN read his diary.”

4:00, Stan responds to Kenny’s text. “I’m obviously not going with the second option.” Stan texts Kyle back, “We just found it on the floor, and your name was on the cover so we went to return it.”

4:00, Kyle reads the text and sighs. “Well, atleast Cartman didn’t read it.”

Stan stares at the text for a while, guilt building up inside of him. “Haha, yea.” Is all he responds with, going into the kitchen to leave his phone on the counter before returning back to the living room.

Kyle sighs, putting his playlist on shuffle and pulling a book out of his backpack to read. 

Kenny reads a magazine on his bed with Karen next to him, humming a song to drown out his parents arguing for the both of them.

Cartman can’t help but laugh, feeling on top of the world, printing many copies of the pictures he took earlier. “She will never see what’s coming for her.” He smiles.

And that was the last Friday that Kyle felt human.

_______________

Sunday night, Cartman snuck into school and taped pictures of Kyle’s diary all over the walls and on the doors of Kyle’s, Kenny’s, and Stan’s lockers. He knew he would get caught eventually, but he keeps his mindset as “as long as people found out Kyle is a girl, and I ruin his life, then I don’t care how much trouble I get into.” He finishes his horrible deed and leaves the school, a smile on his face.

Monday morning, Kyle wakes up as usual, gets ready for school like a regular Monday, and heads to the bus stop. “Hey guys, where’s Cartman?” Kyle questions, noticing the boy not there. “I think hes already at school.” Stan replied, Kenny nodding next to him. “What- why? Doesn’t he hate school?” He asks. Stan just shrugged, and eventually the bus came to take the three boys to school.

The second Stan, Kenny, and most importantly Kyle, came through the door, everyone’s heads turned to look at them. Kyle felt his hands start to sweat as he heard the whispers from the students as him and his friends walked by. “What the h*ll is up today?” Kenny whispers. Stan sighs before replying with, “Right? What dumb*ss rumor was spread around this time?” Kyle couldn’t help but feel like this wasn’t all three of them, that it was just him everyone was gossiping about. Suddenly Wendy walks up to Kyle. “I’m so sorry about this whole thing. Cartman is an assh*le, if you need to talk I’m here.” She says, hugging Kyle, and then walking away. “What the f*ck was that?” Kenny asks. Kyle just shrugs dumbfounded. “Cartman did something again.” He sighs. “Like always.” Kenny giggles.

Kyle, Stan, and Kenny arrive at their lockers, and see the print outs of Kyle’s diary on their locker doors. Stan and Kenny’s lockers are next to eachother, and they grab the paper off the lockers and slowly look at eachother, reading small parts of the papers. “Oh sh*t.” Stan says.

Stan and Kenny run to Kyle, and see him staring at the paper with a completely miserable look on his face. “Kyle…?” Stan says softly. Kyle throws his backpack into his locker before slamming it, and turning to look at Stan and Kenny. “You guys told me Cartman didn’t see it!” “Well, We didn’t know he’d take pictures of it.” Stan shrugs. “You knew he read it and didn’t even say anything?!” Kyle seethes. “Both of you? I thought you both knew better.” Kyle throws the paper on the ground, stomps on it, and storms down the hallway, searching for Cartman.

Finally, Kyle sees the boy in the bathroom washing his hands. “Cartman!” Kyle screams. Cartman jumps and turns to Kyle. “I know it was you.” Kyle says, slowly walking towards Cartman. “What?” He says, not hiding it very well. “I know you f*cking outed me to the whole school. You think that you could do this and not even have it cross my mind at all that it could’ve been you?! You really are stupid.” Kyle’s words spill out, anger rising just looking at Cartman. “You outed me. You outed me to the whole school.” Kyle says, tears pricking his eyes. “Aw, don’t cry, Kylie-” Cartman says before getting interrupted. Kyle grabs Cartman’s shirt. “DO NOT call me that, you assh*le! What is wrong with you?!” Kyle yells, letting Cartman’s shirt go before leaving the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Kyle runs down the halls, “I can’t believe everyone betrayed me like this.” He thinks over and over again and he runs to his locker to get his phone. He sees the stares of everyone, class still hasn’t started yet. He grabs his phone out his bag, slams his locker, and runs to a corner where no one goes. “C’mon mom… please pick up!” He thinks. Finally the ringing stops and he hears his mom’s voice on the other line. “Kyle? Aren’t you at school? Is something wrong?” She asks. “Y-yeah there is, actually. Something really, really bad happened and I need you to pick me up.” Kyle says shakily, between sobs. “Okay, Kyle. I’ll be there in an hour, is that okay?” “Yeah, it’s okay.” He says. “Okay. Love you, bubbie.” She says, hanging up the phone. 

Kyle heads to his first class, which he (thankfully) doesn’t have Cartman in. He doesn’t even have Stan or Kenny in it, which, for the first time, he is kind of relieved about. He can’t focus in class, completely embarrassed about all the secrets that have been revealed, him being trans and his big and quite unexplainable crush on Stan being the main two.

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Ao3 Link

Wattpad Link

[phantomrose96]

Fenton Fact

Danny leaned back against the red brick chimney of the Casper High roof, and he looked across the stretch of land rolling far off from the building top. For a place so off-limits, so hidden-away from the normal bustle of the school, the view really wasn’t anything special. Sure, the school was decently tall, but it overlooked the staff parking lot, and the empty Casper High tennis courts, and the back of a strip mall two blocks over with the recently-haunted laundromat.

Not that it mattered. It took more than tall-building-views to impress Danny anyway, even the nice ones. And he wasn’t up here for the view.

Danny let his eyes drift shut.

“Sup loner, room for one more?”

Danny startled, and it wasn’t Sam’s voice specifically that startled him. (He’d grown used to her bursting from his Fenton Phone earpiece during most nightly patrols.) He’d just lulled himself a bit too comfortably into the idea that no other human could follow him to the top of the locked rooftop of the Casper High building.

“Did I just surprise a ghost?” Sam asked. “Should I do it again with a ‘boo’?”

“Haha,” Danny answered with a fake chuckle. He blinked himself back to prickly awareness, drowsiness batted away like dust bunnies, and stared up at Sam. “I’m not surprised. I just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be on the roof. How did you even—”

Sam was a few steps ahead of him. In explanation, she waggled the Fenton-branded grappling hook gripped in hand.

Danny leaned back with a faux-exasperated sigh. “Since when do you even have a grappling hook?”

“Since I told your mom it would be a wildly cool line of gear to add to the Fenton brand.”

“Does this mean my mom now has a grappling hook too?”

“Yes. And your dad. And Jazz. And Tucker.”

“Great. When I go home and all the ceiling fans are torn down I’ll know why.”

A gentle silence lapsed over them, punctuated with the swell of fall wind.

“So…” Sam continued. “Can I sit here?”

“Huh?” Danny looked at her, anchoring his drifting thoughts once more. “Oh, yeah. I thought the ‘yeah’ was implied.” Danny shuffled a bit to the side, back still resting against the chimney. He patted the spot he cleared. “What am I gonna tell you? No?”

“Just making sure.” Sam stowed the grappling hook to the side of her belt and settled into the spot beside Danny, feet outstretched. “In case maybe you wanted some alone time.”

“’Alone time’ isn’t really something I get anymore. I’ve had about a hundred-too-many ghosts crash through my bedroom for that.”

“So why the roof?”

“Roof is more for uh…” Danny twirled his hand, “‘less adoring crowds’ time. ‘Less classmates ogling me’ time. You can stay so long as you don’t ask me to sign anything.”

“I was never interested in the parasocial or capitalistic value of celebrity signatures. Besides, you cross your ‘t’s weird.”

Danny replied with a half-hearted chuckle. His line of sight drifted into the middle-distance again, unfocused.

“Is it getting to be too much?” Sam asked.

“Hmm?” Danny answered, eyes shifting back to her.

Sam gestured broadly, hands and arms outstretched. “You know just. All this. Everything.”

“…Nah.”

Another small silence grew from the cracks in the concrete between them.

“Paulina and Star are looking for you. You know that, right?”

“Oh, are they?”

“Danny. You knew that.”

“Maybe.”

“…And you’re not interested in seeing what they want?”

“I figure Tucker is keeping them busy.”

“You’re unfortunately right.”

“Phantom Phacts?”

“Phantom Phacts.” Sam nodded. “I made him promise to leave out any embarrassing trivia from the trivia section.”

“Thanks for that,” Danny answered. “Is his presentation any good?”

“You think I’ve ever stuck around to hear it?”

“Fair.”

Sam pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and set her chin to her knees, staring forward.

“You’re really not interested in sitting with Star and Paulina for lunch?”

“Not really. Why? Is that bad?”

“No, it’s absolutely great. But I’m…” Sam shrugged, “surprised, I guess. I feel like usually you’d jump at the opportunity. And I kinda don’t think you’re refusing because you’ve suddenly recognized the banality of A-lister status.”

“Maybe that is what happened, you don’t know that. Down with capitalism, Sam.”

“Danny.” Sam tilted a fraction to face him. “I’m worried that this is all too much for you, and you just won’t admit it.”

Danny sat with the silence that followed. “I don’t think it’s too much. I’m just—I dunno. I mean. I’m just not feeling it.”

“…You can admit if it’s overwhelming, Danny. I’ll be the first to shut down ‘Phantom Phacts’ if it is.”

“Nah, nah let Tucker have his fun. He’s not the problem. It’s… I dunno.” Danny pushed himself taller against the chimney, upright now and unslumped. “It’s a little bit overwhelming, I guess, maybe. But it’s kind of what I expected. Maybe even a little easier than I was expecting. I thought I’d be dealing with a lot of Phantom-hate once everyone knew but, I guess that kind of died down a long time before everyone knew.”

“Valerie holding you at gunpoint in the cafeteria wasn’t Phantom-hate?”

“We’ve had a lot of good talks since then, okay?”

Sam let out a quiet laugh. “So then… why aren’t you sitting with the popular kids right now?”

“I just didn’t want to, I guess?”

“And why didn’t you want to?”

“It just didn’t really feel right.”

“Is it because of me?” Sam asked, another side-long glance cast to Danny. “Because you can sit with them. I’ll still make fun of you if you do, but you don’t have to… not sit with them because of me.”

“What? Huh—no. Nah, nah I mean I do care what you think Sam. But I mean if I wanted to be sitting with them then I would so. I mean. You don’t have to worry that it’s you.”

“So then what is it?”

Danny took a moment to answer.

“It’s just… it’s a feeling. I dunno. Like.” Danny spread his arms out. “The invitation is wrong? Or the invitation isn’t actually for me?”

“…The invitation is for Phantom instead?”

Pensive indecision set into Danny’s eyes. “That’s not totally it. Because I mean I AM Phantom. I’m not not me when I’m Phantom. Maybe I trash-talk a little more in ghost form but I’m not… not me. That’s still just me. You know that.”

“Right, yeah, no Danny. It just sounded like that’s what you were saying.” Sam let her legs slide out a few inches. “So what are you saying?”

Danny sat with the question. “When the news first picked up on Phantom, way back when—Inviso-Bill?—that wasn’t really anyone, you know? They made up some spooky icon to make the news about. Which was just like, whatever, not me. I didn’t even take ‘Inviso-Bill’ too personally because that just wasn’t me. And even when I stopped being an enemy and started actually being ‘Danny Phantom’… no one actually got it right, you know? They kind of came up with a character for me. Just some hero. I listen to the news and how they talk about me and I think, even now, I think ‘That isn’t me.’”

Danny pulled his knees in, a mirror to Sam, and stared down into his tattered jean fabric. “And when everyone learned I’m Phantom I guess I kind of expected them to be like ‘Oh it’s Fenton’ and then that fake version of Phantom would go away.” Danny raised his eyes to Sam, far more bothered than before. “…I think the opposite happened. They don’t look at Phantom and think ‘oh it’s Fenton’. They look at Fenton and think ‘oh it’s Phantom.’ I think Danny Fenton got put away. I think the person I was for 14 years doesn’t exist to them anymore. Whoever they invited to lunch isn’t me. He doesn’t exist. But I’m suddenly responsible for him. And it’s not even me.”

Danny paused. “And now I’ve been wondering like… how long until I disappoint them? You know? How long until I do something that makes them angry because I’m not doing the thing they expect ‘Phantom’ to do? How long until they start seeing there’s too much ‘Fenton’ in me and they start to hate me for it all over again? For them to really like me, I don’t think I can be me, and I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to be someone who doesn’t just disappoint everyone in the end.”

A long gust of wind swept between them, stealing away the seconds.

“…So now you’re hiding on the roof.”

“It was the easiest solution to my problem.”

“But not a lasting one, if you ever want to get down.” The wind settled, and Sam swept a lock of hair behind her ear. “…Do you care if you disappoint them?”

Danny shrugged. “I. Yeah. I think. I don’t—I don’t think I totally know for certain, but I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“Well, you’re not going to disappoint me, or Jazz, or Tucker—and if Tucker does act disappointed over any lost Phantom Phacts ventures I’ll whap him over the head. But I mean, we know who you are. We’re not going to be disappointed realizing you’re not ‘Phantom.’ The worst you can do is land right back where you started.”

“And what if I started acting like ‘Phantom’ instead. Would that disappoint you guys?”

“Do you want to act like ‘Phantom’?”

Danny paused. “…No. Not at all.”

“Then don’t. It’s that simple.” Sam stood, and she stretched until her back popped. “It’s not your responsibility to uphold whatever delusions people project onto you. I won’t hesitate to call them out on it. You know I’m good at being direct, and you know I’m even better at making enemies.”

“I don’t wanna be mean to them though when they’re finally being nice.”

“They’re not being nice, they’re projecting. If their niceness to you is conditional on you fitting to the box they created for you, that’s not nice, that’s manipulation, and it’s exactly the root of my ever-frothing disdain for popularity. It’s always some element about popular people that people latch on to, and they can fit the box that people give them, or they can reject it and find themselves wallowing amongst us outcasts. Don’t do that to yourself, Danny. Don’t live in their chains.” Sam tilted her head to Danny. “You spend all day trapping ghosts into tight little boxes and you can’t even recognize when it’s happening to you. I think you’d be better at spotting this.”

“It’s a cylinder, really. The thermos. It’s a cylinder. And don’t say ‘box’ so much. You might summon company.”

“You just said ‘box’ though.”

“I did say ‘box’.”

“Box.”

“Box.”

Sam laughed, noise trailing light on her lips. “…Feeling any better?”

“A little, I think… I still… I still think I... it's not as easy to just say 'I don't care if I disappoint them.' It's still scary. I don’t want to end up proving them right that they were right to hate me all along.”

“Are the opinions of Dash Baxter really the ones to be holding on a pedestal? Is his opinion of you really more important than what you think of yourself? You’ve been through this with the A-listers already. Don’t torture yourself again just because the door is wide open. I promise you Danny, it won’t make you happy.”

“So I should just do whatever makes me happy?”

“Every time.” Sam nodded.

"Even if I'm a total disappointing loser?"

"All the better."

"Even if I blow any chance I have with Paulina out the window?"

“Wouldn't have it any other way. Got any idea what you intend to say to her when she finds you?”

Danny paused. He pushed himself standing. “Maybe I could talk her ear off about NASA until she gets bored of me?”

“Excellent. Can I join? I have a lot to say about SpaceX and private capital encroaching on space exploration.”

“Does that apply to me? I’ve been to space. Am I private capital?”

“You’re not private capital.”

“Then what am I?”

“Annoying.” Sam locked arms with Danny, and dragged him along forward, her combat boots clunking against the rooftop. “And my friend. Come on. I’ll brief you on everything wrong with privately-owned space exploration while we’re rappelling down the side of the building with my sick and cool as hell grappling hook.”

“I can fly.”

“And I have a sick grappling hook. What’s your point.”

“It’s probably called a ‘Fenton Hook.’”

“Is that a Phantom Phact?”

Danny shook his head, and a smile pulled on his lips. “Nah. I think it’s a Fenton Fact.”

[daydreams-magic01]

You murdered my sister

(Nick Goode x wife!reader)

(Not my gifs, credit goes to the creators)

Main Masterlist

Requested by:  rosemarielancaster1369

Fandom: Fear Street

Year: 1994

Request: ‘Hi ! Sorry if I’m not doing this right, I’m still trying to figure out how to use tumblr. I was wondering if I could request a “fear street” x reader (the third movie) I was thinking Nick Goode (sheriff Nick) and the reader (she/her pronouns preferably) are married and Deena, Josh and ziggy tell her about the “Goode’s” being evil and all and just her reaction to that maybe also her helping set up the trap for Nick at the mall, sorry if that’s confusing or too long, if it is, I totally get it. Thank you for your time !

Ps. I love your writing, I think it’s amazing !’

Thank you so much! I love this idea! I made her Ziggy’s sister for drama. Is that okay?

Thank you so much! And it is not too long, it is wonderful!

Warnings: Language, mentions of death, mentions of family member death and children loosing their father, and sister loosing sister. Mentions of murder and betrayal.

Also, I don’t know how to feel about this, haha...

Words: 1.4K

Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction, the scenarios, the reader, and the dialogue are all mine. There is also some dialogue from the movies, as part of this one shot is set in a scene from the film, I do not take credit for that dialogue.

This should only be found on my blog.

Author is always me on this blog: @daydreams-magic01​ .

A/N: Please do not copy or plagiarise this, or put it in your own book, etc. It should only be found here. Also, please mention if I should make a taglist and if you wanted to be added.

Thank you.

:)

"How dare you. Goodbye." (Y/n) slams the phone back on the receiver, flashing it the bird.

A bunch of teenagers decided to pull a prank, and at first, they had her; they rang up, saying that those two junkies were not the killers, and she believed them, offering to help and get her husband until they told her 'who' it was.

Her husband, Nick Goode, aka 'Sheriff Goode,' is most definitely not a killer.

(Y/n) freezes for a second, facing the open kitchen doorway, and thinks. At the -

No way.

Scoffing, she shakes her head and picks up her coffee mug, heading into the living room. These are her few minutes of rest, having just gotten the children to bed and very tired herself. She usually waits up for her husband, but he told her to head to bed as he will be out late.

However, hopefully, this coffee will keep her up for a couple more hours.

Maybe -

Nah.

She sighs and grabs the remote, the news channel instantly lighting up - there is her husband. She smiles at his face, feeling his gaze and love for her through the screen, almost as if he is looking right at her.

Her smile falls at the reminder of the atrocities that have occurred this night, reminding her of the camp. Her sister died that night.

She still finds herself in disbelief over the fact that Tommy would kill his girlfriend and all those children.

(Y/n) looks over to the picture of her and her friends on the wall. It was taken the morning of the Camp Nightwing massacre. They are all smiling; they were so happy.

Back then, Nick seemed to have had a crush on Ziggy; thankfully, he didn't, as it would be weird being married to him then, seeing as she is her sister.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

"(Y/n)." 

Her eyes shoot open, and she jumps, rolling off the sofa and onto the white rug. "Ziggy?"

There, above her, is her smiling sister, who she hasn't seen in years. Ziggy has never bothered to come and meet her nieces and nephews. 

"Get out."

Her smile falls as (Y/n) pushes herself up, lowering her voice to a whisper, "how did you get in here?"

"Why are you whispering?" Ziggy practically shouts, making her wince. Before she can speak, her sister takes in the room, her smile falling as she sees all the family pictures, "you married Nick?"

"He married me," she doesn't know what exactly she is saying, but all those insecurities from when she was a teenager are coming back and her embarrassment and shame.

She frowns and sighs, "I'm not surprised; I am the one who cut him out after all."

(Y/n) pulls a face, throwing her hands up in the air, "he chose me, Ziggy. Please get over it."

Her sister rolls her eyes, crossing her arms, "and you should have said no." There's a pause as (Y/n) glares at her sister, holding back profanities. 

Grabbing the remote, she switches off the television, turning to resume her glares at her sister. "Well, I said yes, and look what it got me, beautiful children and a happy marriage." Her sister's face falls, "so please, lower your voice."

"Listen, (Y/n), I didn't believe it at first either, but you should have said no."

"She's right," a male's voice states from the corridor, making her jump again. She goes to speak, but before she can, the out-of-breath boy does, "my sister wasn't lying on the phone. Your husband is evil."

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sarah Fier is not the witch."

(Y/n) is sat on the sofa, Deena, Josh, and Ziggy standing in front of her in the form of a semi-circle, coffee table pushed back. The children are at their Nanny's, Ziggy having ordered her to call her to take them away for the night.

"But the rhyme -" 

Deena shakes her head and takes a seat beside her, "the rhyme is a lie." She looks between her sister and the other two, she goes to speak again, but she is cut off, "made by Solomon Goode." She places her hands on top of (Y/n's) and laughs, "an agreement with the devil passed down generation to generation."

(Y/n) shakes her head.

Then she remembers.

"He arrived so quickly to kill the - Ryan Torres." Josh nods, placing his hand in his pockets, and he rolls back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Sunnyville has no crime; I always thought it was the witch- but why?"

"He wants Sunnyville to have no crime, accidents, or anything," (Y/n) nods, "so he kills Shadysiders." 

She stops nodding and stands, shaking her head as she smooths down the ends of her button-up, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. 

"He sacrifices them," (Y/n) turns around to face the now standing Deena, "but Cindy."

"Collateral damage."

(Y/n) clenches her fists, her gaze hardening at her coffee cup as she shakes her head. "But I am a Shadysider... my children..."

Deena frowns, "I'm sorry, but it is the truth."

"Tell me everything."

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) watches the trees whiz past them, and then the signs; as they near the mall. 

It all makes sense but is it true?

For years she and Nick have been together, happy, married, and had children. Now, she understands she was his second choice. Now, she understands that he killed her sister. Now, she understands he is a risk to her babies.

Fuck him.

She should be ashamed of what she is about to do, this plan.

Murder her husband.

She is sad, but she is not ashamed.

Sheriff Good her ass. 

How can she love a monster?

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're a monster."

Nick's eyes pull away from Ziggy as his wife stands out from behind the tree. His eyes widen, his jaw-dropping slightly. 

She smirks, stepping down to take her sister's place in front of him. The plan is in motion, going so well as he slowly falls further into their trap. Ziggy steps to the side, allowing her sister to take her place, right next to the rope. 

Her smirk slowly transforms into a smile as she watches him take her outfit in, one of his favorites, a flattering, red dress - in fact, he bought it for her as an anniversary gift.

"Honey?"

She shakes her head, her hand going to the rope, "it's (Y/n)," and she pulls it.

Ziggy grabs her hand and (Y/n) gives thanks to the heavens that this dress is flowy above her knees otherwise she would not be able to run. 

She can't help the heart-wrenching feeling she has as she hears her friends pull their ropes, releasing the monsters.

Then it happens.

Her husband wraps one arm around her neck, the other around her waist as he pulls her back. Ziggy gasps and runs forward, stopping once he raises his arm and points his gun at her. "DEENA! GET THEM AWAY FROM ME!" (Y/n) screams, continuing to thrash about as her eyes gloss over with tears. "IF I DIE, SHE DIES!" His arm darts between each of the serial killers as he ignores the fact that this is his wife.

"What happened to our vows, sweetie?" He whispers into her ear, making her gag. She begins to scream louder, making her throat burn slightly. "GO AWAY!" Her screams get louder and louder as she tries to step on his feet as hard as she can, but he does not flinch. "GET BACK!"

"You murdered my sister." She whispers, and for a second, his arm holding his gun wavers. "You'd probably kill our children too, just like the children you have today."

He inhale sharply, his arm around her neck tightening, "how dare you- I would never harm our own -"

His arm loosens, and she falls forward, her sister catching her, as Nick falls to the ground, Skullmask stabbing him in the back.

"Karma's a bitch Nicky!" (Y/n) shouts triumphantly as two begin to run, gripping each other's hand.

Then it happens again.

(Y/n) is grabbed.

"Your blood, it's on her!" Josh shouts as the crazy possessed body pulls her to him by her neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~Please do not copy ~~~~~~~~~~~~

[bumbleklee]

windblume confession(s)

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | pregnancy series

request: (@illusory-torrent) can i ask the meaning behind your url?? just curious. and could i also please request some kaeya and albedo getting competitive over the reader? reader can be gender neutral, i just wanna see my two best bois being competitive haha. thank you!

pairings: albedo x gn!reader, kaeya x gn!reader (love triangle)

warnings: none! (1.5k words)

a/n: soooo the meaning behind my url - it’s not that special lol. i wanted to make a genshin pun (klee = bee) and this is the first thing i came up with. also bea/bee, bumblebea/bumblebee, yktv

During the Windblume Festival, bouquets of flowers and letters were spilling off of your desk everyday. Despite knowing that most of the gifts came from anonymous senders, your heart still skipped a beat.

Part of you wondered if any of them were a prank. You didn’t see yourself as anything special, you weren’t as feminine and pretty as Barbara or muscular like Wagner, yet quite a few patrons found you good enough to pine over.

You skimmed through the gifts one day to see if you recognized any of the names. There was a letter from Bennett that was clearly addressed to Fischl so you tucked away the special note in a drawer with promises to deliver it later. You also found a letter from one of the Knight’s on your squad - but he was much younger than you and, frankly, the letter sounded like puppy love. Two contrasting bouquets of flowers sat side-by-side on the edge of your desk so you reached for them.

The first bouquet was about a dozen calla lilies tied together with a blue ribbon and the second was cecilia’s in a glass vase. The flowers piqued your interest, your mind already forming an idea about where they came from, and you read the attached cards.

“Meet me in the library,” You read aloud, your fingers tracing the edges of the cardstock. It wasn’t signed by anyone. The second one has a similar message, “Find me in the library.”

You wondered if the flowers were sent by the same person. But then why wouldn’t they state that? The questions made you wonder, again, if this was a trap. Could the flowers be from someone who wanted to mess with you? But despite your doubts, you grabbed your things and headed down the stairs to the library.

When you pushed open the door to the library, you realized you had no idea who or what you were looking for. The library was decorated beautifully, ribbon and flowers displayed on tables or breaks between the bookcases. The room itself smelled fresh, too, unlike its usual dusty aroma. While you glanced around the library, you saw Lisa sitting behind her desk and went to see if she knew what was going on.

“Happy Windblume Festival,” You smiled warmly at your coworker, “You’re not going to believe what I received.”

Lisa stopped reading her book to look up at you, the ghost of a smirk on her lips, “Hello, there. So many love-birds flew into your office this morning, I can only imagine what they brought you.”

You rolled your eyes, “Too many unrequited confessions.” She laughed softly at your joke, “Besides that, I received two bouquets of flowers that both told me to meet them here. Isn’t that strange?”

Lisa covered her mouth with a gloved hand and giggled again, “I think there’s something downstairs who would love to see you.”

You raised an eyebrow at Lisa but thanked her and took off down the stairs, careful not to slip on the wooden steps. As soon as your foot touched the floor, your sight met two men who had stopped bickering less than a moment ago. Kaeya and Albedo stood in front of a table, trying to put themselves back together in your presence.

“What’s going on?” You asked, realizing they were probably waiting for you. “Were the flowers from both of you?”

Kaeya and Albedo looked between each other, seemingly glaring dangers at each other. “I don’t know why he’s here,” Kaeya sneered, motioning to Albedo.

“Well, I don’t know why you’re here,” Albedo parroted, crossing his arms. You had never heard either of the men sound as ticked off as they were now.

“You both told me to meet you in the library,” You explained, confused. “That wasn’t planned?”

“No!” They said in unison.

You rubbed your temples, knowing that this wasn’t going to end easily. “I’m sorry,” You mumbled, “But can someone explain what’s going on.”

“Mr. Alberich overheard me planning to surprise you during the Windblume Festival and decided to ruin my plans,” Albedo said. When he spoke Kaeya’s name, there was nothing but venom in his tone.

Kaeya shrugged sarcastically, “I had no prior knowledge.”

“You used Klee to eavesdrop.”

“Did I, now?”

Albedo ran a hand through his hair, aggravated and annoyed. He had never liked Kaeya and this only fueled that fire. Kaeya wasn’t fond of Albedo either. He thought he was overrated in Mondstadt and that his admirers could do better.

“I mean,” Kaeya continued, giving Albedo the side eye, “Was it supposed to be a secret? You were awfully careless with the news.”

“My deepest apologies, I wasn’t aware I needed to broadcast my confession to all of Mondstadt before telling Y/N.”

“Your confession?” You wondered, “So the flowers weren’t a joke?”

Albedo looked at you with curious, and confused, eyes. “A joke? Of course not,” He said. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks, something you had never seen before, and Albedo fiddled with his gloved fingers nervously.

“I wanted to do that first,” Kaeya interjected, frowning slightly.

Kaeya’s words caught you off guard as well. “You like me, too?” He nodded in response and the three of you stood still for a while. Your mind was racing and your heart was beating out of your chest. You couldn’t believe not one but two of your coworkers had a crush on you and were confessing to you. But then the nerve-wracking decision came crashing down on you.

You had to pick one of them, right? The whole point of confessions was to find a possible suitor and here you had two options in front of you. Of course, you could reject both of them and run away but was that how you truly felt?

Albedo was soft and genuine. He often painted portraits of you and took you up to Dragonspine so could have snowball fights with Klee. He paid for dinner for you and recommended new books for you to read during your days off. At that moment, they seemed like friendly gestures. But looking back, you realized they were probably acts to one up Kaeya.

Likewise, Kaeya had his own plans to win you over. He spent exciting nights with you at the tavern and never complained about taking you home when you drank too much. Instead of buying you food, Kaeya bought you gifts like jewelry or artifacts. He often accompanied you on commissions, too.

“I need time to think this over,” You finally said. “Please, just agree not to kill each other in the meantime.”

Kaeya grumbled something under his breath, “Fine.”

“Why do you like me?” You asked, looking at Kaeya. “If you’re going to confess, then confess fully.”

The taller man thought for a moment before sending you his classic, cheeky grin. “I like having a challenge and you, my dear, proved to be that challenge.”

“What?” You asked, slightly offended.

“You play hard to get,” Kaeya continued, using his hands to accentuate his words, “I spoiled you for months and you still acted like we were nothing more than friends. Do friends buy each other gold necklaces in hopes they’ll realize you’ve fallen for them? You even have the necklace on to this day.” Instinctively, your fingers coiled around the dainty necklace around your neck that Kaeya had gifted to you weeks ago. When he gave it to you, you recognized it was a peculiar gift but played it off as Kaeya being extravagant. He sharpened his eyes, “Need I mention you’re the most exquisite looking person in Teyvat?”

Your voice caught in your throat and your cheeks burned with the compliment. You nervously played with the hem of your shirt and looked at Albedo for his answer.

“I just think you’re different,” He said simply, “You’re easy to get along with and I enjoy spending time with you. I feel like we’re compatible puzzle pieces.”

If possible, you blushed harder. Both men were darling and you felt like the luckiest person alive by being adored by both of them. As you glanced between the men, your stomach did a backflip. They were both looking at you with such intent and charisma, as if trying to enchant you. The idea of being with either of them made you feel butterflies.

But they are so drastically different, which made the decision that much harder. If you choose Kaeya, your relationship would be fiery and brand new all the time. He was full of adventure and flirting, favoring nightlife and excitement. And with Albedo, it would be calm and joyous. Your days would be spent in flower fields and underneath trees. Both sounded like a dream to you.

“I don’t know who to pick,” You admitted, holding back a sigh of defeat. “I never thought multiple people would like me at once, let alone you two. I just need more time.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and walked back up the stairs. Your head felt light and your mind was clouded with a million different scenarios. You felt guilty for leaving the men alone but until you could come up with a definite answer, they could wait.

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 9 “Trapped In The Closet” [Episode List] Following the most blatant sit-com tropes you can think of, Dave decides to spy on his girlfriend, Dana, because he thinks she’s hiding something. Tim reluctantly decides to join his friend, but the two end up stuck in the girl’s closet, which will eventually turn into a gas chamber.

Trapped In The Closet

“Yeah Dana. Sure. No problem.”

Tim was working on some college tasks, but couldn’t help but to eavesdrop Dave’s conversation with his girlfriend, Dana, on the phone. He could only hear his friend’s replies, which being only the 50% of what they were talking about, it didn’t make a lot of sense. Not that he was interested: Dave was simply hanging out in his room because he had nothing better to do during that warm Summer evening, apparently, and so he simply showed up to Tim’s place with a couple of beers and a remarkable amount of procrastination powers.

Despite being relatively hot outside, Dave was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of long, grey levi jeans, kinda loose as usual. Something that Tim hated about his kink is how quickly he checked his friend’s outfit, something that he always did since Dave is now basically his “fart bud”, against all odds.

“Yeah… yeah… I love you. No… I love you more!”

Kinda funny how Dave, 24, would revert back to an awkward teenager at times whenever he and his girlfriend were on the phone. They probably even acted like that on purpose, because love is doing stupid things together after all.

“Tim. Car. Now!”

Dave hung up and turned weirdly serious, got up and walked downstairs, saying something about getting in the car.

“Wait, what?” Tim asked, questioning whether his friend was being serious or not, but he did follow him to wherever he was going.

“We don’t have much time, Tim. Dana will come back soon. She’s out with her own friends and we have… like… 15 minutes.”

The two walked outside and headed towards the girls’ house, actually only a few blocks away from Tim’s. Tim himself reluctantly followed his bro into this, knowing that, at best, it may turn into a funny mishap to tell to their other pals while being drunk and laugh about it.

“I’ll just pretend your words make any sense, like I usually do…” Tim chuckled, sarcastically, but still following his friend.

“I think she’s hiding something.” Dave explained, walking at a fast pace, Tim right behind him. “She’s been strangely elusive lately and I want to check her room for clues.”

Tim just chuckled in response. “Dave, you do realize that this is not a 90s sit-com, right? Her room? Really? What are you hoping to find out, exactly, anyway? That she’s having some kind of affair behind your back?” he asked, trying to reason with him.

“An affair? You think I’m that kind of guy?” Dave answered, looking surprisingly offended by Tim’s question.   “I just want to make sure she’s fine. She seemed worried about something and she’s like this organized haf-woman/half-machine hybrid who keeps sticky notes in her room to keep an eye on her busy life.”

“Oh…” Tim replied, rather sarcastically.   “Now that makes a lot of sense.”

“Leave your sassiness for later, dork. Can we take your car?” Dave asked.

“Why? We’re already right in front of her house…”

Dave realized that he was so worried that they did, in fact, walked for a couple of blocks and found themselves stepping in Dana’s backyard without even noticing. He just laughed a bit about it.

“Sorry. Love makes me blind.” he joked, knowing that it was a rather silly thing to say anyway.

“Not the words I would have used, but ok.” Tim answered.

“Come on, let’s get inside.” his bro said, with a smirk.  

“Alright… but please, let’s keep a low profile and no awkwa-”

But as they approached to the girl’s house, Dave awkwardly started muttering some kind of theme song that was oddly reminiscent of the Mission Impossibile’s most iconic soundtrack. This guy has a girlfriend, everyone.

“So much for keeping a low profile, Ethan Hunt…” Tim joked.

Dana’s room, following the usual   “average american house tropes” that the writer of this story grew up with in the 90s, was on the second floor. Luckily, the house was empty, so both Tim and Dave could easily climb it without fearing of someone noticing their totally legal actions.

“Look at Tim, such a rebel! Such a fast climber!” Dave whispered, noticing how good Tim was at climbing the girl’s house.

“Thanks. I learned it when I visited your mom.” he joked.

“I thought you’d prefer my dad, you know.” Dave played along, with a rather noticeable reference to Tim’s homosexuality.

“Just… just let’s get done with this.”  

After some awkward climbing, the two found themselves in front of a window leading to Dana’s room. The duo was sitting on a small portion of slanted roof, wondering how to get inside.

“Alright. I could just punch through the window and open it. But you know I don’t like violence against windows.” Dave said, somewhat joking, but really trying to come up with a way to get through this final obstacle.

“Never mind, it’s open.” Tim said, as his hand passed right through the window.   “Or, you know, I got ghost powers all of the sudden, but I doubt it.”

“You’re so funny I forgot to laugh.” Dave commented, as he got inside his girlfriend’s room, making sure no one was there, immediately followed by his sassy friend.

The room was fairly big and messy, books and magazines scattered all around the floor and the bed. Dana was a busy woman: she got a degree in economics but, given the tough times, she had troubles finding a decent job lately. Dave actually suspected that this was the reason she was being nervous about, well, everything, understandably.

“Why don’t you just ask her instead of acting like the perfect boyfriend material that you are?” Tim stated, in his usual snarky tone, noticing Dave basically rummaging through Dana’s more personal stuff.

“Just… let me do my thing ok?” he was serious again, trying to find something that could be clue, deep down knowing that all of that was quite non-sense and even ridiculous, but his stubbornness was showing.   “Wait…”

Something drew his attention. A red (therefore important, according to Dana’s code) sticky note on the nightstand. Something was written on it.

“Oh… I guess I was right…” Dave whispered, eyes glued on the note.

“Something about her job?”  

But Tim didn’t get an answer, as they heard someone coming from downstairs. They probably were so focused on their mission that didn’t even notice how someone got inside the house minutes after them. They went silent and tried to listen to the person’s footsteps.

“Yeah. I’ll keep you posted.”

They heard a muffled female voice getting closer, probably talking on her phone. A voice that was very familiar.

“Fuck! It’s Dana!” Dave whispered.

The two looked around, looking for a quick solution or a place to hide, blatantly ignoring the window they used to get inside in the first place.

“The closet!” Dave said.

Without even questioning whether this was a good idea or not, the duo sneaked inside Dana’s closet and closed themselves inside just as the girl came into her room, still talking on the phone about something.

Tim and Dave managed to mess things up however, as they ended up in a very small section of that apparently big, spacious closet, so they had to arrange themselves in a weird position. Dave was standing up, towering over Tim, who found himself sitting on the floor instead, right behind his friend… with his face perfectly aligned with his loose jeans butt. As his eyes got adjusted to the dark, Tim started to distinguish the seams and texture’s on Dave’s jeans ass, and the tiny red Levi tag on the right back pocket. He couldn’t help but take a look, which he felt really unnecessary, given the context.

“So… this is where you lived for most of your life…” Dave joked, looking around, as if the closet was some kind of fancy mansion.

“Haha! Another gay joke! Great timing, Dave!” Tim muttered instead. The last thing they had to do was talk.

The two waited for a couple of minutes, hoping that Dana would just leave again or even just go downstairs, so they’d have enough time to get out of there in the hopes that Dave didn’t leave any clue of his presence.

“As long a we remain silent…” Tim whispered.   “We have nothing to worry about.”

Only moments after saying that, he felt a very familiar sound greeting his face. It was a long, rumbling sound coming from Dave’s denim ass. It was one of his usual, well-known loud farts, a fart that he was desperately trying to keep as silent as possible. Luckily, Dana was too busy with her phone to even notice the weird noise coming from inside of her closet.

“Dave! What the fuck?!” Tim hissed.

The gassy friend tried not to laugh, realizing how idiotic the whole situation was.   “I’m sorry dude.” he murmured.   “You know what happens when I’m nervous!”  

The smell was unbearable already. Being in a such small space didn’t certainly help. Those were probably some of the smelliest farts Dave ever managed to rip in Tim’s face, although this time was, against all odds, more like an accident.

“Tim…” Dave whispered, carefully placing his butt closer to his friend’s face.

Another fart erupted, sounding dangerously louder than the previous one. The rough surface of Dave’s denim gently caressed Tim’s nose. The blast of gas then turned into something much more subtle, but still otherwise bubbly. Tim felt his nose burn, as really he had no choice but to breath all of that in.

“Dave I swear. If you don’t stop, Dana’s gonna–”

But another   “slow-paced” rumbly fart cut him off. Dave was seriously trying to contain his well-known farting abilities. Tim, instead, was trying to remain calm, feeling like the Universe was somehow messing with him. That was an insane situation: he certainly wasn’t new to Dave’s farts, but in that context, it felt almost like one of his weird dreams about his fart fetish.

“Tim I’m sorry, at least I know you don’t mind… I hope”

Funnily enough, despite the slightly amused tone in his whispering voice, Dave sounded genuinely sorry. Yet he was right: Tim was insanely enjoying it, but knowing that Dana was out there made the whole thing almost surreal. And, once again, as much as Dave always proved so chill about this stuff, he couldn’t help but feel somehow awkward about having his friend face-farting him so non-chalantly.

And yet another   “ninja” fart was ripped all over his face.   Being nervous really turned Dave’s stomach into a messy cloud of gas, and Tim’s nose was there to vacuum it all up, completely defenseless, standing before the sheer power of the gassy friend’s powerful denim-covered anus.

Even though the situation was absurd, Dave couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. After all, the smell hit him too, and it was getting insane even for the farter himself, whose gas just didn’t stop building up.

“Sorry bro… I have to do this.” he whispered.

Tim felt Dave’s hands gently grabbing the back of his head, holding it still, as he pulled him in the clutches of his denim butt. The warm fabric of the jeans was soaking in that unbearable smell. The sniffer then felt the weight of his gassy friend almost crushing his skull. Despite being dark, Tim realized that Dave was basically sitting on him, using his head as some kind of human stool.

The fart was directly ripped in Tim’s mouth at that point, that rumbly sound once again renewing the already destructive stench. It was supposed to be loud, so loud, that Dave had to basically use his friend’s face to deadpan its impressive thunderous noise. The gassy bro was trying to rip it in the form of a long series, hoping that Dana would fail to hear (or even recognize) his well-known gross, but rather impressive talent.

Tim heard his friend’s sighs of relief after each, rumbling fart, but Dave was also trying not to burst into a laughter that could blow their cover. Fart fetish or not, he couldn’t help but to find it more hilarious than gross.

As much as the lack of space in that closet wouldn’t really allow it, Dave even lifted his right leg a bit, while still   “sitting” on his stool-friend, as a way to facilitate the impressive amount of gas gushing out from his anus. It’s not like he had to worry about Tim passing out or finding it too gross, anyway.

That fart itself was lasting longer than both of them anticipated. They lost count of how much time passed, probably a full minute. Tim’s face was warm and sweaty now, still trapped in the clutches of his gassy bro’s denim butt, directly living in person that thin line between Fart Heaven and Fart Hell.

A final sigh of relief, followed by a louder toot and a chuckle.   “Sorry, bud.” Dave muttered, hoping that his plan worked.

Indeed, Dana didn’t hear a thing. She hung up and left the room, her footsteps slowly turning into a far, muffled sound, until silence announced that the duo was now free to get the heck out of there, especially considering how they were almost both choking on farts.

Tim forgot what fresh, non-fart air felt like in his nostrils and so took a deep, refreshing breath the moment he stepped out of that gas closet. Ironically, Dave did the same, maybe even wondering how would Tim even endure something as overwhelming as his farts, but he didn’t really mind anyway. Despite everything, that was oddly hilarious, as the two stared at each other and then bursted into a laughter.

“Now let’s get out of here…” the farter suggested.

But before the two could even walk towards the window, Dana showed up again in her own room. She didn’t even startle.

“What are you two doing here?” she asked, sounding more like an inquisitive mom than an angry girlfriend. She was fairly mature, after all. “I don’t know what you Dumb and Dumber are up to, but I swear if you–”

“I heard the news, Dana. We were just outside your window…” Dave explained, slightly tweaking the truth. “We wanted to play a stupid scary prank but then I heard it, while you were on the phone you know…”

Dana shook her head and laughed a bit. She hugged her boyfriend and kissed him.

“Yes! I got the job!” she giggled. “Sorry I’ve been so cold lately. The job interview made me so nervous…”

“It’s fine, Dana. You’ve always been stone-cold anyway!” Dave joked, earning a playful slap on his chest by his girlfriend.

“Yes, that’s a very import–wait what’s that smell?” the girl asked, sniffling loudly the air around him.

Tim’s heart almost stopped while Dave did his best to not just laugh like an immature prankster. His hair, clothes, skin, were completely “soaked” in his gassy bro’s gas, so naturally he’d himself smell like flatulence.

“Never mind. It must be you, Dave. He farts like crazy when he’s nervous, Tim, I swear.” she said, disgusted but slightly amused as well.

“Ow… it’s part of my charm, babe.” Dave replied, using what he would have considered an irresistible flirty tone of voice, which was super awkward instead.

“And yeah. Tim’s very aware of my skills, right?” he joked, winking at him, like the big teasing bastard he’s always been since he found out about his fart kink.

Tim just shrugged, faking a disgusted look, his heart racing fast, knowing that all he had to do after that was take the biggest shower in the hope that such unbearable stench didn’t fuse with the atoms in his body.

“Well, it’s gonna be a wild ride!” Dana exulted, happy about her new job offer.

“How about a round of beers to celebrate?” Tim suggested. “It’s on me, no worries.”

“Great idea, but I’m paying. I got the job, you dumb-dumbs get to drink!” Dana replied. She was in a very good mood.

“It’s fine, Dana! It’s the least we can do after-“ but Dave interrupted him.

“Come on Tim, stop living in outdated gender roles and let the pretty girl buy you a drink.” he said, faking a serious tone.

The girlfriend simply rolled her eyes and left the room “Just… meet me downstairs when you’re done saving the world, ok?”

As Dana was nowhere in sight, Dave simply turned to Tim and let another huge, long one rip.

“Shhh. Just tying up some loose ends here.” he said, shushing the gay friend, blasting what was left of his gas out.

“Are you finish-“ “Not yet” he simply said, as if he was making sure no particle of gas was left behind.

With one high pitched final note that was met with some immature laughter, Dave sighed in relief.

“With that said” he chuckled “You might want to take a shower.”

Tim simply nodded with an unamused expression.

“Oh, and you might want to leave the other closet you’ve been hiding.”

That was out of nowhere.

“No pressure bro, just know that we’re all always more than happy to have a beer with you.”

“Thanks Da-“

“Despite your bigoted views on gender roles of course.”

“I’m going to punch you now.”

The duo then headed downstairs and no one got punched luckily.

Tim thought about his friend’s words and how it was probably time to leave that metaphorical stuffy closet soon or later, not that he felt forced or anything.

Dana’s closet, however, that’s probably the only one he enjoyed being trapped into…

End of Episode 9

[yyosemite]

''Not Everything Happen As Planned'' Part 4 - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Part 3

Summary: Reader's thoughts about the encounter, more problems start to appear, and Thomas being an asshole.

Author's Note: English isn't my first language, this chapter took longer than planned (as well as the title of the fanfic haha), but I was very busy these days with the school, but here we are. And Rest In Peace, Helen McCrory.

Warning: Mention about abortion.

Word Count: 1252

It is crazy how we can reason only after all the adrenaline is exhausted in our body, and that is how you found yourself now, extremely discredited of your choice, after your conversation with Thomas.

You couldn't believe that you agreed to go out with him, you knew that many things could go wrong on that date, and your head was filled with different thoughts, both positive and negative.

Even after finding out who he really was, you couldn't deny the attraction you felt for him. You knew and saw how people react when he is mentioned, but you were not able to have those feelings for him, no matter how correct it was to do it.

He was the father of your child, and even more, he seemed to be genuinely interested in you, and when you're messed up with hormones because of a pregnancy everything seems a little more complicated to resolve.

You wanted to believe that things would work out, but then you remember that you are going with him to a date, to the pub, being pregnant. You couldn't drink the alcoholic beverages he was likely to offer you, and it would all be a little suspicious.

This situation was much more than chaotic, he would suspect, and you were distressed by the thought of telling him, because the rumors about him weren’t good, and you were already in a lot of trouble to get entangled in some more, what if he didn't want the child? Would he make you have an abortion?

But you also felt even worse with the idea of not telling, because he was going to be a father, you didn't know if he had that dream, and with the possibility that you could take that away from him, affronted you.

You always liked to plan your things without interference, that was the reason you came to Birmingham, the fight with your parents over who would have control over your life, and now you are pregnant and in the dilemma whether or not to tell Thomas.

What the fuck, (Y/N)? Did you really have to have sex with a gangster in the back room of a pub in a city you had just moved in with?

Now you were in front of the mirror finishing your beautiful red lipstick and in your splendid black silk dress, one that you received as a gift from your father on one of his trips to France. You were not someone very vain, especially since you were always forced to follow the standards of beauty set by your mother, so you always rebelled against what she wanted. But that doesn't mean you don't like to feel beautiful.

You turned to Nat and said:

"Am I pretty?"

"You look wonderful!" She said "Have you decided if you are going to tell him or not?" She asked, curious to know your decision.

“I haven't decided yet, Nat. I think this is something I'm going to know at the moment. I don't want to blow my mind about it, it's not good for the baby, I just hope everything will be okay. ” You said sincerely.

“Everything will be fine, you can be sure. With or without his help. ” Said Natasha as she kissed your cheek and left the room.

You were about to leave when the phone rang.

"Hello, who am I talking to?"

"Daughter?" That was the worst time your mom could call you.

"Hi Mom, is everything okay?" Said you, wanting to shorten this conversation as much as possible.

"Oh yes, I'm fine and so is your dad, but you, how are you?" She asked.

"I'm great mom" You knew that everything was not 100 percent okay, but your mom didn't need to know that.

"Very good to hear that, dear," You knew she was lying, after all she didn't even want you here in Birmingham. "I'm thinking of spending a few days with you, you wouldn't mind, huh?" Now she took you by surprise.

"Do you want to spend a few days here?" You repeated it to yourself more than to her.

"Yes, any problem?" Yes, mother, all the problems in the fucking world, but you couldn't say that.

And again you found yourself trapped on an unwanted occasion, thinking quickly of the logic that you could not refuse your mother, because that would give her more reason to believe that something was wrong, and it would only be a few days, right? What could go wrong.

"No mom, no problem, now I'm a little busy, would you mind calling me tomorrow, so we can talk about your coming?"

"Great, my dear, we'll talk tomorrow" She said goodbye.

"Bye mom, we talk to each other!".

You let out a sigh that you didn't even know you were holding, but your mother is a problem for later, now you need to go to your date, where you were late.

You arrived at Garrison and there was no one inside, which was very unusual since at this time it would be full of men already drunk and maybe even fighting.

"I thought you would like it if it was empty here" said a voice that you knew very well.

"Hi Thomas".

"Hi, (Y/N)" He said back.

You liked that he reserved the pub just for you and him, after all if maybe you would reveal your pregnancy to him, it was better that there was no one around.

He directed his gaze to one of the tables, and you can quickly understand that he wanted you to be seated. There was already a bottle, in what appeared to be Whiskey.

You were already nervous about the date and now about your mother, but now your tension seemed to be tripled, how would you refuse to drink without looking suspicious?

"You look tense," he said.

“It's just your impression” You tried to give a little smile that showed confidence, but you don't think it should have worked out very well, you were emanating distrust.

"Do you want some?" He asked, taking the bottle.

"Sorry, I'm not in the mood to get drunk" He must have noticed your features, as he seemed to be analyzing your discomfort.

"Are you afraid of me, Ms. (Y/L/N?)" He said it very directly.

In fact, you weren't scared, you were nervous as hell, you were thinking so much, so many possibilities, that you were almost going crazy.

"No, I'm not afraid of you."

"And do you know who I am?" He said accusingly.

"I know, but why the question?"

"Who are you?" He seemed suspicious of you. You felt your hands sweat from the tension.

"I am no one, I mean, no one you need to worry about."

He seemed to study you with those blue eyes.

"So why don't you drink a little ..." You felt your patience wear out.

"Because I can't drink, damn it!!". You yelled.

He seemed intrigued by your nervousness, but you were not caring, your body was tingling, and you were only thinking about the baby.

“Do you have a phone here? Call a doctor, please. ” You said, and he didn't seem to understand so he remained seated.

"Damn, please, I need you to call a doctor, I need to see if everything is okay with the b..."

You barely finished speaking, when your vision started to darken, the only thing you remember is him hugging you from behind and holding your body so you don't fall off the chair, then everything went black, and all you thought about was your child.

[missgeniality]

“Kittens, They Love To Enslave Us”

prompt sent by @shadowsremedy​ : “ yoongi + sfw please haha + something cute!” - thank you so much for sending me a prompt gray!! i hope this does some justice! on a side note, i do feel terribly handicapped when things are fluffy and cute ;_;

find out how to send me prompts on the post here!

➺ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

➺ Genre: Fluff, Established Relationship!AU

➺ Rating: PG

➺ Word Count: 1.1k

➺ Warnings: None

“But he is looking at me.”

“Y/N, they’re all looking at you. People walking outside are staring at you. You’re like a wild Beyblade in a ring, spinning from one kitten to another. Just pick one.”

To a third person, Yoongi’s comment would sound like an annoyed grouse. His half-mumbled words, paired with the lazy cadence of his tone; it’s a reasonable assumption.

But you know better.

The way he is admiring you as you pout in confusion tells you most of it. There is a light mocking in his speech, a lilt of levity, something you are able to pick up on due to your years of togetherness. He’s not miffed; merely amused at your inability to choose from the deluge of furry babies lined in front of you. 

“I can’t just leave him,” you’re trying hard to push out the one wild voice in your head browbeating you to empty your savings to become the crazy cat collector of your street, “his eyes are - LOOK AT HIM - they’re calling me!”. The youngling in question, seated on a bright, puffy cushion tilts his head, in expected confusion, probably wondering why this eccentric specimen is almost on their knees, wailing in his direction. You groan out loud, sitting cross-legged on the floor, stuffing your face into your hands in the hopes of an answer in the lineament of your palms. 

The only sound populating the air around you is the mirthful snickers of the highly entertained boyfriend of yours. “You know, you don’t have to make a decision today.” 

You vehemently deny the option, your shaking head hurling your hair side to side, accentuating your opinion. “But you’re not free any other day!”. You and Yoongi had decided to adopt, so it is rightful of him to be present while making the decision. You didn’t want to have that privilege to yourself, although with the passage of time your wishy-washy nature feels like a handicap - all the more reason to want Yoongi there.

With your head still in the sanctuary of your palms, you reason out with yourself. You know you’re being dramatic - you’d like to think you’re reasonably self-aware. But it’s not the sole idea of getting a pet that’s causing you worry. 

This might be the first big step in your relationship with Yoongi, after moving in with him. And you don’t want anything to sabotage what you consider a smooth-sailing. Adding a variable to your equation might rock the ship you’ve steadied for all these years, the variable being a cup-size blob of hair with glimmering buttons for eyes. You’d like to think you and Yoongi have weathered quite a few vicissitudes, by placing your trusts in your partner’s hands. Getting a pet isn’t the end of the world, but the domino effect it could possibly have is affecting your decision-making skills. 

Your head hasn’t left the sanctuary of your palms when you feel Yoongi’s fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging them towards him to have you meet his eye. 

If there’s one thing about Yoongi, it’s that his eyes do a lot more talking than his lips. The gaze he’s giving is gushing with love, the soft apples of his cheeks plumped up into rosy globes as he simpers at you, just for being you. His eyes, brown and lax under the mellow late-afternoon rays flooding through the window, pacify you, quell the turmoil that runs in your brain, and offer the reassurance that you need. Under Yoongi’s loving gaze, you feel a metaphorical fuzzy blanket wrapped around, instantly putting you to comfort. 

You’re going to be all right. One cat can’t sabotage a relationship as durable as yours, and if it does, it wasn’t durable enough to begin with. 

From a corner, the agent walks in, papers for the adoption rustling in her hand. “Were you able to decide?” She’s startled by the position she finds you both in, you in an unflattering cross-legged pose, with Yoongi kneeled beside you. But as usual, Yoongi’s calm and tranquil demeanor sets her at ease. “I have the papers ready, so we can start whenever you want.”

“We’ll probably come back later.” Yoongi opines, understandably so, but you’ve made up your mind.

“Yoongi, no we ca-”

In a flash, a black ball of fur rolls in out of nowhere and lands on your lap, soft bean-paws pressing into the flesh of your thighs as it stomps around for the sweet spot. Turning to Yoongi, this young, fledgling kitty gives out, what is its own mind, probably the loudest, most intimidating roar in the world of felines. 

The soft, elongated meow that actually leaves the kitten traps your heart in its cage, and even catches Yoongi by surprise. A defensive stance, the little one throws its best threatening glare at him, in presumably an attempt to guard you. Yoongi clutches his heart at the dramatism, and the agent is chuckling in awe of the runt’s behavior.

“Minnie!”, she coos to the munchkin backing up on your thighs, “You can’t just climb people, you clingy baby.”. The addressed one haughtily side-eyes her, as if to say ‘watch me’, and settles into your lap comfortably, with no intention to move visible. 

“I’m so sorry. She’s usually not like this,” The agent moves to rid you of the furball, “usually it takes a lot to have her get along with people. She’s very feral, but,” pausing to look at the both of you, she chimes “she seems to like you two!”

“Well, she sure does like Y/N.” Yoongi extends his hand to cup the kitten’s face, whiskers tickling the side of his palm as he tries to get on her good side. A soft, low purr tells you all that his peace offering had been accepted. It makes Yoongi grin, his gummy smile brightening up the whole room better than any ray of sunshine. 

The agent, looking over the whole interaction, affectionately quips “Well, you may not be able to choose one, but she seems to has chosen you!” You’re still looking at him. In your core, you have decided to take her home. Yoongi, admiring the kitten’s sparkling blue eyes, raises his gaze to meet yours, and at that moment you know; she is the one.

Cruising through the paperwork, Minnie had decided to give Yoongi’s lap a try. Now, her head is resting on his acid-washed jeans, and if it were possible, you’d have hearts for eyes observing this scene. Your constant, Yoongi, the one always by your side, and your new source of joy, Minnie. Having them, you don’t need anything else. 

“Ah,” you sigh, as Yoongi finishes signing the last page of the document, “kittens, they just love to enslave you.” You can already envision the amassment of toys you’re gonna bring in for this one small being, just to keep her happy and fulfilled. 

“Hmmn, yeah.” Yoongi hums in reply, but something about the way he’s smiling at you tells you he’s not just referring to the floofball in his arms. 

[thewritewolf]

No, Really

Summary: Adrien can no longer deny it - he is in love with Marinette! The only problem is, she has made it absolutely clear that she is definitely not interested in him. But when he discovers that Marinette might be harboring feelings for Chat Noir, Adrien decides that there is only one way to get together with her: Reveal his identity.

Trouble is? She doesn't believe him.

Hello and welcome! This fic was written for the @totographszine, which was publish for free here. Go check it out, the wonderful @anna-scribbles even did some excellent art of this fic in there.

Read on Ao3

Without any further ado... Enjoy!

Adrien was in love with Marinette. There was no getting around that any more. But, unfortunately, it didn’t seem that she felt the same way.

Ever since he had come to terms with his feelings, he’d been trying to flirt with her. A few cheesy lines here. Some lingering touches and eye contact there. Compliments scattered throughout the day. Although, as he had realized now, it was harder to compliment her more than he already had been. How had it taken him so long to figure out his feelings?

The worst part of it was that she even flirted back! Which may sound great, but his experiences with Ladybug had taught him that flirting back could also mean friendly banter. It was a frustratingly similar experience, which he chose not to dwell on too hard.

And just like with Ladybug, he was at least appreciating the friendship that he could share with Marinette. Now that she had begun to open up to him, he was learning all sorts of things about her. Her favorite foods, what exactly tickled her most, her little mannerisms.

One day he learned the most important little fact about Marinette of them all.

“What is it with you and crushin’ on celebs, girl?”

Adrien recognized Alya’s voice at once and his eyes widened when he realized who she was likely talking to on the other side of the locker.

Sure enough, Marinette let out an irritated groan. There was a sound of a locker opening.

“What makes you think I have a crush on him? Just because I drew him in my notebook—”

“Oh sure, if you were just drawing him, that’d be one thing. But the hearts and kissy faces tell a whole different story.”

Adrien stood stock-still, listening as intently as he could. It felt as if his heart had

stopped beating. Had he failed to win the hearts of both his crushes? Would he ever get a lucky break just for once?

“They weren’t—that’s—no! Those were …” Marinette sputtered and eventually mumbled something that sounded a lot like “spades.”

“Spades.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, girl, if you want I could probably mention your name the next time I see him. Sure it’d be harder to pull off than with blondie, but I’m down.”

“Drop it, Alya,” Marinette said half-heartedly. The locker door was shut and they walked toward the entrance. For a moment, he was scared they would turn around and see him eavesdropping. “I’m sure Chat Noir doesn’t want to have my number pushed into his hand.”

Adrien’s eyes widened as he suddenly jolted to life. Chat Noir?

“Maybe. We’ll only find out if we give it a shot.” Their voices got more distant as they walked away. “At least we know you’ve got a type now.”

“Alya!”

In his heart of hearts, Adrien hoped that type included boys with green eyes and blond hair. Would it be too much to ask that she fall for him a second time? Not just as Chat Noir but as Adrien?

It was there, standing alone in the locker room, heart pounding in his throat and feeling light headed, that Adrien was suddenly struck by a plan. And while he was no Ladybug, he was pretty confident about this one.

After all, he didn’t need to make her fall for him twice. She just needed to find out who Chat Noir was.

--------------

His first opportunity took way too long to arrive. The need to confess his secret identity to her had been weighed against his duty not only to Paris but to Ladybug. He was as certain of Marinette’s trustworthiness as he could be, but he needed to be sure that she and only she heard him.

Besides, it made confessing his feelings a little easier too, which was honestly weighing just as heavily on his mind. Sure, safety of Paris and fighting Hawkmoth and all that, but there was also his poor battered heart to take into consideration. Ladybug had been gentle with her rejections, but they still stung as much as being tossed into a wall by a dozen akumas.

It took over a month for a golden opportunity. The four of them had been studying in Marinette’s room when Alya had left to go babysit her sisters, taking Nino along with her. Adrien watched them slowly pack up and amble over to the trap door, silently screaming every time they stopped for another little chat. But eventually, they did leave. Nino’s cap disappeared below the floor and the trapdoor shut behind them. It was late enough that Sabine and Tom had gone to bed already, but not so late that Adrien would have to leave yet, at least not for a couple hours.

Swallowing against the suddenly dryness in his throat, Adrien looked at Marinette. All thoughts of the physics homework in front of them banished the moment he saw her tongue poking out the side of her mouth, her brow furrowed in concentration.

How could one person be so cute?

Her bright blue eyes flickered up at him. “Something wrong, Adrien?”

There wasn’t going to be a better time. It was now or never.

“Marinette … I’m Chat Noir.”

The sound of her pencil scratching along the paper stopped as she stared at her homework. There was a long moment of silence wherein Adrien silently panicked. After a few seconds that stretched into infinity, which Adrien spent praying that she would say something, anything, she finally spoke.

“Yeah, okay.”

She said it with a snort and a chuckle. It was like when he was experimenting with different jokes for her and he found one that didn’t quite land but didn’t completely fall flat.

She returned back to her homework, and the sound of the pencil resumed.

“Okay? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“Um … I suppose I can add a ‘haha’ in there too? If it makes you feel better?”

“You’re not supposed to laugh!”

“Then it’s not a very good joke.”

“It isn’t a joke,” Adrien said, crossing his arms haughtily. This was not going how he had planned in the slightest.

Marinette raised an eyebrow as she sat up. “There is no way you are Chat Noir.”

“Why not? I’m cool!”

“Exactly, and Chat Noir is a massive dweeb.”

Adrien gasped, scandalized. “Take that back!”

“I will not. Besides,” she continued, raising her hand, “there are plenty of things Chat Noir is that you aren’t and vice versa.” She raised a finger for each point. “Chat Noir is loud, outgoing, with a sharp tongue, and he’s a flirt to boot. Plus the whole massive dweeb thing.”

“And what about me?” Adrien pouted, almost dreading the answer. “Adrien Agreste me, I should say.”

“You’re quieter, to start with.” There was a faint blush on her cheeks. Maybe it was easier for her to describe someone who she thought wasn’t present. “You’re considerate and kind and a perfect gentleman.” She smirked and chuckled. “At least, you usually are.”

Adrien put his hands together and brought them next to his lips as he took a deep breath. He was suddenly reminded of all the times he’d made reservations or tried to set up an account on some website under his own name, only to have it deleted because it “couldn’t possibly be actually Adrien Agreste.” By this point in his initial planning stages of confessing to Marinette, they were already organizing their first date between passionate spells of making out, not trying to determine if he really was himself.

But Adrien was nothing if not adaptable.

With a wide, toothy grin worthy of his alter ego, he leaned forward, putting himself dangerously close to her face. The faint blush she’d been sporting flared to life and spread across her entire face. Her eyes went large as he purred out a reply.

“What an unfortunate alley cat I am, baring my soul to a beautiful princess and she doesn’t even believe me. Whatever shall I do?”

“W-wow, you’ve … you’ve really practiced this, h-haven’t you?” She put on a brave face and scooted backwards.

“You could say that. You could also say I’ve got a lot of experience with the whole Chat Noir flare.” The smile became more genuine as he added teasingly, “And it looks like you think Chat Noir might be more than just a massive dweeb, hmm?”

“Y-yeah?” She got back some of her composure—not much, but enough to start bantering back at him. “And what else is he then?”

“A cool cat, maybe,” he said, tossing his hair and running a hand through it. “Or, even better, a fine feline.” He grinned and finger gunned at her.

Marinette snorted. “You’ve definitely nailed down some of that Chat Noir full-of-yourself stuff. Congrats on getting your research done at least.”

“Not research. Just living the life, Pigtails.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Very creative nickname.” She smirked and crossed her arms. “Then again, it’s better than princess or my lady, so I’ll take it.”

“Hey now, Ladybug likes me calling her that, even if she tries to hide it.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Somehow I doubt that. But seriously, whose idea was this? It feels like Alya had a hand in this. I just know it.”

“Why would Alya get me to try to tell you I’m Chat Noir?”

“She never gives up on her ships is all.” Marinette’s eyes went wide and she threw her hands over her mouth. “Forget I said that!”

“But I—”

Her hands went straight for his mouth. “Forget!”

He held his hands up in surrender and she backed off.

“Come on, though. What’s so hard to believe about me being Chat Noir?”

“I just can’t see you and Chat Noir being the same person. You’re both so different!”

“Okay, first off—yeah, I can be quiet sometimes,” Adrien admitted. “But you’ve seen how I am with my friends, when I’m comfortable. I can be just as outgoing as I am in the mask!”

Marinette massaged her temples. “So what, you’re saying you have to be with close friends to be as confident as you are making terrible puns in front of all of Paris?”

“Well, the mask helps a little,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “After all, then I don’t have to think about how what I say will impact the company or get yelled at by my father. I get to just … be wild.” He gave her a timid smile. “I suppose sometimes I go a little overboard, huh?”

Her blush deepened. “Y-yeah. I guess you do sometimes.” She cleared her throat and schooled her expression back into a skeptical one. “Assuming you are Chat Noir, of course.”

“Of course.” Quietly, he added, “You know, Adrien me isn’t the only one who is ... kind. I’ve done it plenty of times in the mask.”

“I mean, yeah, you do the heroics and everything, but I was talking about something—”

“Gentler?” he said with his best Chat Noir grin, which made her eyes widen like saucers. His voice was still barely above a whisper. “Like when I comfort akuma victims or sponsor animal shelters?”

“I—yes, like that,” she admitted in the same soft tone. A little stronger, she poked his chest and gave a small smirk. “But don’t you think Ladybug will be mad that you revealed your identity? You promised not to do that, you know. Assuming you really are Chat Noir.”

“Maybe I should have asked her about it first,” he admitted, even as something tickled at the back of his mind. How did she know about the promises between them? “But I’m sure she’d understand if she knew. The value of love is something we both agree on.”

“I mean, I guess, but—wait, what?”

“And I suppose you’ve noticed how, no matter what side of the mask I’m on, I love to flirt with the person I love?” She gasped, but he just shook his head and laughed. “Finally get there? I mean, I’ve been flirting with you nonstop for like a month.” He smiled. “Maybe you and Ladybug should hang out. The everyday Ladybug and the real-life Ladybug. Both of you can be really dense when it … comes to … realizing … oh my god.”

Adrien saw the exact moment that she realized that he had figured her out. One moment she was watching him attentively. The next, her eyes had widened in panic, her pupils shrinking down to tiny pinpoints. He knew that if he did nothing, she’d start flailing her arms around and denying it.

The distance between them turned to nothing as he leapt toward her, laughing. She grumbled as he pulled her close, squeezing her tight against his chest, but she didn’t try to break free.

“Don’t be so proud of yourself. You only got lucky,” she said as she returned the hug.

“Luck or not, I finally found you … my lady.”

He looked down at her face at the same moment that she looked up into his. A moment laden with meaning passed between them before they both broke down laughing again. At long last, they had finally found each other.

[subwalls]

Tales from the SMP Presents: The Haunted Mansion

An ongoing exploration of how the Inbetween drives my Kingdom Hearts brain crazy with paranoia! Less of an analysis this time, because we got confirmation (VALIDATION!!), and more of speculation, but yeah!

First of all! I was right not to trust this fucker.

Just kidding, that’s not the first thing we’re gonna talk about here. First of all, a gentle recap!

As I’ve mentioned before, the Inbetween has some uncanny resemblance to the Kingdom Hearts world known as Castle Oblivion. Castle Oblivion is known for being the place where the main series protagonist lost all of his memories, and even had false memories implanted while he was getting deeper and deeper into it. 

You might be curious as to how the Kingdom Hearts protagonist escapes.

He doesn’t.

He needs outside help, and a lot of it, to get him out of that situation. Even then, it takes a whole year. He drove his own heart into the bottom of the abyss in his desperation to save someone he was tricked into thinking he knew, and he didn’t even regret it, because he was saving someone.

... A lot of people on Dream SMP have different ideas on what it means to save people.

Also, the castle also had a very plot-twisty secret where it used to be the lush and wonderful home of these three friends before they fell apart; one was lost to the Evil Dark Side™ (not real name), the other was trapped in the Realm of Darkness (real name), and the last one fell into a coma for TEN (10) YEARS and his body was left to be protected in the heart of the land, which was then locked and turned into Castle Oblivion.

So, pretty fucked up place! Not inherently evil, but the place of great misfortune and just... not very good for everyone there.

Let’s start at the beginning!

Welcome back indeed. Take notice of the wither rose in the pot, by the way, I’ll come back to this in a bit.

The first thing that stands out to me on this page is the smiley face, of course. It’s not the ever-iconic, ever-evil “:)”, but it’s similar enough that I think the callback is intentional. The smiley is c!Dream’s icon, of course, which... honestly makes me think that “:]” might be DreamXD, but that might be because I’m very very biased for the server god who simps for a dangerously apathetic cottagecore once-king.

Of course, it does also look kind of like Quackity’s face, and cc!Quackity has said something about big lore coming for him, but until further evidence is presented I’m disinclined to draw a connection there.

The Inbetween, as we’ve come to know the author of some of these books to be, being happy that Karl is continuing—it reminds me of the KH protagonist being told yes, good job, keep going, as he stumbles deeper and deeper into the castle that strips away memory after memory from his heart. Why does the Inbetween think that Karl’s time travel is important, his careful documentation of every story? Is it because the more he does it, the more he becomes attached? The more he becomes reliant on the Inbetween to feed the missing pieces of his memory?

Is it because the Inbetween, in parallel to c!Dream and c!Wilbur, prioritize the concept of story over the characters?

Things to think about. 🤔

Also kind of interesting that the Inbetween thinks Karl will eventually uncover “all [he] needs to”, which continues to make me think that the more c!Karl comes to the Inbetween the more he becomes... either dependent or over-trusting of it. Not sure. But weird things happen when it’s magic that tampers with memories, rather than trauma.

Basically, I’m getting “there is no war in Ba Sing Se” vibes.

The book continues to say that Karl probably has a lot of questions and that it would love to answer :] but never actually does. It’s trying to come off as helpful without actually being helpful. All it does is tempt him with the prospect of answers, and then draws him in deeper. “Continue onward, Karl.” But why?

Another wither rose pot.

Sidestepping the very innocuous, very surface-level information offered here (because that’s it, it’s nothing about the workings about the Inbetween, it’s just a little sweet carrot to distract with), I cannot even begin to convey the absolute terror that consumed me at the word “sleepy.”

I mentioned earlier that one of the original characters who lived in the land that would become Castle Oblivion went into a coma, right? But it’s more commonly referred to as sleeping. The game is even called “Birth by Sleep”, and there’s a whole thing about trying to get him to “wake up”. So the idea that time travel can take something out of the traveller that makes them tired, the idea that there is one specific room for sleeping quarters within the Inbetween, paired with that not-quite-right smiley face—I am traumatized, I tell you.

Yes it could be a “haha look what I did with the sentence, because day is a form of time and they time travel so long day is a funny term” kind of smiley, but. Kingdom Hearts has trained me to be suspicious of any talk of sleep.

There’s something just mildly unsettling about the way it continues, with the references to the “many Karls” and the “many many great stories” that sounds borderline condescending.

And now we get the, uh, “other” author. Notice how this one actually did not have a corresponding wither rose in a pot. I’m starting to think that the flower might actually be an indicator of the not-this-author-pictured-above, the probably-Inbetween-itself, so the fact that this book was found separately from a wither rose pot and it was tucked away under a tree... A tree, under which c!Karl will later find a bit of a refuge... yeah, different author. Or at least an author from a different time.

I’ll elaborate in a moment, but I do think that there’s three (3) mindsets/authors happening here: the sickly sweet Inbetween pretending to be good, the person trying to get c!Karl to distrust the Inbetween, and... someone who desperately wants c!Karl to stay in line.

This is the third... I don’t want to say author, because it too has the wither rose pot and is trying to keep c!Karl playing along with the Inbetween, but it’s much less coherent and much more desperate.

No “:]”, either.

Some possibilities I’m considering:

the Inbetween, but it’s like, a security subroutine or a glitch in the system,

the Inbetween, but it’s from a future wherein c!Karl has fucked it up to the point of desperation,

Karl / the other author, but it’s from a future, where trying to stray from the Inbetween resulted in something traumatic happening and they don’t want it to happen anymore.

Some fun possibilities to keep in mind. Anyway!

Ooh, the return of the wither rose pot.

For this part, the only thing I really have to say is that the repetition of the Inbetween trying to present itself as “a place to feel at ease” is... Well, as the lovely Fear has said in this post linked here, a place that tries and makes itself seem safe probably isn’t, because a genuinely safe place wouldn’t need to announce it all the time.

Very much sounding like a Ba Sing Se thing.

More importantly, the book actually says that it’s “wild” how the Inbetween is “so beautiful that even time travellers who go anywhere at anytime ever and they still choose here” with a good old “:]” tacked on at the end. That’s... that’s not just me thinking like that sounds kind of threatening, right? Like, time travellers can see anything anywhere, and they keep coming back to the Inbetween. Why?

Is it because they forget the beauty of anything else? Is it because it’s not beauty, but rather attachment and emotion that keeps someone going back to a place? If someone forgets their loved ones and precious things, then why would they go anywhere but the place where they’ve put all their stories?

Why did KH’s protagonist keep going deeper into Castle Oblivion even though he knew that the castle was taking apart his memories? Because he had one thing left: the fake, implanted memory, which told him that in order to save someone, he needed to push on no matter the personal cost.

So the real question is: are the time travellers coming back to the Inbetween because they want to, or because they no longer have a choice?

It regards all the different Karls with such... distant affection, too. “How beautiful,” it calls them, for wandering the blank halls with blank stares and blank hearts, none of which react to each other. It says that they “choose” to walk the halls, uncover mysteries, and tell stories. But what was the other choice? Was it really a choice at all?

Hmm.

Karl goes on to explore, and finds another book that does not have a wither rose pot, which tells him he has to go Under The Tree.mp3 and informs him that he “can’t afford not to”. Cool. Not ominous at all.

He finds another, which says the same thing.

Definitely not ominous. /s

The phrasing here is interesting, because it’s also phrased like a threat. Usually, when someone tells you that you “can’t afford not to”, you’re either looking at a scam or at the business end of a weapon. But the empty pages tell you that the author is trying to keep it down low. That’s one of the ways Minecraft players have found to express tone in the very limited form of Minecraft books, and it works splendidly.

Not to push my DreamXD agenda, but like... the door was iron. Iron doors are a weakness for Dreams and dreamons and, mayhaps, Dream’s dreamon.

I know it’s probably just because the iron door keeps in line with the color palette of the build but let me dream, alright.

Anyway, book content! And an interesting point of order: there is a wither rose pot. I said earlier that it might be an indicator of the Inbetween as an author, but that doesn’t make much sense now, does it? This is meant to be a place hidden from the “it” that I assume to be either the Inbetween itself or the one/s controlling it.

So why the wither rose pot inconsistency?

Unless it doesn’t mean that. Unless it’s just a metaphor for, say, memories withering away or something. Or maybe it’s just a pretty plant, for funsies! Who knows. If I had to guess, I’d say that (after much reflection) it’s likely less a mark of author and more a theme of, mm, memory status. The withering away of memories. It fits in with the Inbetween, because that’s what might be responsible for it, but the author/s of the book aren’t immune, either. They get blinks of clarity, with the hidden, tucked-away tomes, but they might not be completely free.

The next book, however, again lacks the wither rose pot. It might not be a coincidence that the one without the potential mark of a withering memory is the one that actually divulges some more information.

This book goes into slightly more detail about the warning, though not about whatever actual threat it is that the castle (which... Castle Oblivion, you know) presents.

It says that 1) it’s not what it seems, 2) the "truth about the other forms of you”, 3) this place “is not okay”, and 4) get in that portal we saw that was blocked off before.

We know that the Inbetween isn’t what it seems, but the “truth” about the other forms... Hm. This is, in fact, another Kingdom Hearts Thing. There’s a running joke that everyone on the very large cast of characters in KH that in the end, every person is actually either secretly a version of the antagonist (through possession or body splitting or whatever), or a version of the protagonist (through similar concepts). Multiple bodies and other forms is definitely a Thing in KH, though it’s not as oh-god-not-again definitely-bad as the sleeping thing.

I think the other forms have either become reliant on the Inbetween or have forgotten everything but the Inbetween, or both. Maybe more of the prior, since the warning is against trusting the place.

And, uh, this? Fucking terrifying. I love it to pieces.

Every single one of these books has a wither rose pot, and this is kind of why I think that the Inbetween or its master/s is, in some way, possibly functioning via routines and like... an AI. Or a genius loci kind of thing.

But good news, there aren’t 13 books, there are 14! This is important for Kingdom Hearts reasons, because Kingdom Hearts has a big thing about the numbers 13 and 7 (13 is the number of pieces of darkness, and 7 is the number of pieces of light, and this is equal somehow, don’t question it).

Now, 14 is an important meme number in the MCYT fandom, of course, but I don’t think it has terribly too much to do with the lore beyond a fun easter egg.

The books themselves trying to tell c!Karl to, essentially, go with the flow and the path that the Inbetween has set up for him is... something. I like the idea that it’s some future version of something trying to stop something from happening, but we all know it’s probably not going to work. Fun times.

And finally, this.

The Inbetween is a bit of a narcissist, huh? It won’t shut up about how it’s so pretty and irresistible and the whole definition of, like, a honey trap. Oh my god it even describes it as ~mysterious~ as a good trait, that’s hilarious.

More pertinently, it also calls the Inbetween “a time traveller’s dream”.

A time traveller’s. Dream.

Again, not to push my DreamXD agenda, BUT—

But! Getting back on track, the book expresses its eagerness to see Karl again, says their relationship is gonna be great, reminds him that his stories are important, and then tells him that he needs the Inbetween/author just like the SMP needs him.

Uh. He’s going to need the Inbetween?

Hello?

Why? How? So far it’s presented itself as being pretty and perfect but it never said anything about necessity! What’s going on!

Very much reminded of how Castle Oblivion was presented as “you need to keep going in even though it takes your memories away because there’s someone you need to save [fake but you don’t know that because you don’t remember anything]”, and I am afright.

Talk about subtle strings being tugged at here. I’m really seeing the beginning seeds of a dependency thing being sown, and if it weren’t for the side books painting giant neon warning signs everywhere, I don’t know if it would’ve caught on. An artificially cultivated concept of how important and great the Inbetween is, and don’t you just want to take all those stories from that messy world elsewhere but come back here in the end to take a break and exist and explore and oh, isn’t the Inbetween great, isn’t it wonderful?

Man, c!Dream wishes he was this good at subtle manipulation.

tldr; there are multiple authors trying to tug c!Karl in different directions via those books. The Kingdom Hearts parallels predict that his memory will be at stake, and he might not be able to escape without help.

[unpeumacabre]

soaring dragon dancing phoenix - 龙飞凤舞: prologue

Yunmeng is no longer home for Wei Wuxian, for he is no longer welcome. And so when he visits he can always count on Jiang Cheng descending upon his head with the full strength of heaven's fury, to chase him out. But one day when he sneaks into Yunmeng again, days go by without Jiang Cheng making an appearance. Something has happened to Wei Wuxian's prickly shi-di, something that - once they reunite - they will find is far greater than they could ever have anticipated. Accompanied also by Wei Wuxian's dear friend (?) Lan Zhan and a Lan Xichen who has only just reluctantly left isolation, the four of them set out on a journey that will bring them across the greater part of China to the mystical Kunlun mountains of mythology - and more importantly, may bring them love, healing, and reconciliation.

If only Wei Wuxian could take his head out of his oblivious arse and start putting himself in other people's shoes for once...

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Wangxian, Xicheng, Wei Wuxian & Jiang Cheng

Read on AO3 (bc tumblr might mess up the formatting + more extensive author’s notes on the story)

Count: 1.5k

next ->

One year after the events of the Guanyin Temple, and the death of former Chief Cultivator Lianfang-zun.

Lan Zhan!

I agree with what you said about Sect Leader Yao, that old fart. He wouldn’t know a good idea if it bit him on the arse. If I were you I’d have snuck into his room at night and shaved off his eyebrows – but then again, you’re Chief Cultivator, and you have to follow boring things like rules and protocol. Don’t worry, the next time I’m in Pingyang I’ll … It’s a secret! Look forward to the next time you have a discussion conference with that pig-headed old fool.

I’ve finally reached Yunmeng. Little Apple took such a long time to get started from the inn in Jiangling. I think he had a crush on one of the serving girls, to be honest. Even apples didn’t work to drag him away from her. I had to conjure a mirage of her all the way from Jiangling to Yunmeng to get him going – can you imagine that? One of these days I’ll have to find a nice little female ass to keep his little Little Apple happy … Hahaha! I can practically see you rolling your eyes at me now, Lan Zhan. You still can’t take a dirty joke after all.

Anyway, I digress. It’s nice to be back in Yunmeng and be able to pick all the lotus pods I want and to flirt with all the pretty Yunmeng girls, although none of them are as pretty as you are, of course. You’d make a big stir if you came to Yunmeng – you should visit with me one of these days when you’re free! Although I know of course you have responsibilities as Chief Cultivator etc etc but I promise you it’ll be fun! One of these days I’ll come kidnap you. Then Lan Qiren, that old man, would really have an aneurysm, ha! I’d kidnap you just to see his reaction.

Don’t worry about me, I’m talking nonsense as usual. I wouldn’t really kidnap you, unless I was really bored. And Jiang Cheng would probably beat my ass for trying. Honestly, it surprises me that I haven’t had the honour of Jiang Cheng’s company yet. Somehow, he always knows the moment I step into Yunmeng – it’s like he has a spell set up to go off whenever I’m in the vicinity??? And he never fails to turns up for an hour or two just to shout at me, thrash Zidian around a bit and tell me to go back to Gusu. Then he storms off somewhere to drink tea or something. I swear he’s going to die of high blood pressure one of these days.

Well, I expect I’ll see him around. He’s bound to turn up sometime or other. Looking forward to your reply, and counting every one of your twenty words,

Wei Wuxian

***

Lan Zhan!

Thank you for expressing your concern for Little Apple’s wellbeing. He’s eating well (as usual) and living happily in the city stables where I left him. He has a new crush on the stable boy though, but I’m not worried about that – it seems like his affections are as transient as floating smoke and passing clouds. He seems to be like his former master in the sense of being indiscriminate with regards to his choice of partner, which makes me wonder why he’s taken such an intense aversion to me. I guess it’s just the same old story with me and animals all over again.

It’s my third day in Yunmeng, and still no sign of Jiang Cheng anywhere. Perhaps he’s simply busy with some night hunt or other and can’t be bothered to whip my ass into shape. I’ve been visiting his favourite haunts the past few days but no luck – it seems like he’s really busy this time. I’m starting to worry, and although I never thought I’d ever say this, I miss his grumpy ass. It’s been the longest I’ve gone without hearing him call me a fucking idiot, haha!

Anyway I have a funny story to tell! Yesterday I went to investigate rumours of walking corpses at the base of Yunmeng Mountain. Apparently some farmers came across them and ran away but one of them was caught and eaten.

But guess what, Lan Zhan? Actually, it was nothing more than a group of hermits who’d come down from Yunmeng Mountain five days ago after meditating in seclusion for three years, and they were doing their Bagua ritual circle walk around one of the dove trees at the base of the mountain. They hadn’t bathed once in those three years, and so when the farmers came upon them and saw them chanting and moaning and pacing around the tree they were mistaken for walking corpses! Hahahaha how ridiculous is that??? Anyway I cleared up the misunderstanding. The farmer who was apparently eaten fell down a cliff when he was trying to escape from the “corpses” and broke his leg, so the hermits rescued him and patched him up. He was perfectly fine. I talked to them and they seemed like a pretty normal bunch to me – they were quite a big group when they came down the mountain at first apparently but then most of them decided to go down south and back home instead of lingering in Yunmeng. That’s about all the excitement I’ve had so far, I think.

Well, anyway, thank you for the twenty-one words you used in your reply. You have gotten quite adept at teasing me, haven’t you? Looking forward to how else you may surprise me next,

Wei Wuxian

***

Lan Zhan,

No, I don’t think Jiang Cheng fell off a cliff too. As much as you might wish for it to happen, he’s still my brother an important sect leader, you know! Anyway I already checked all the cliffs around the mountain before I received your letter so it couldn’t possibly be so.

Besides, I went to Lotus Pier earlier today – just to check on how things are going, you know, in case they need my help or something, nothing to do with Jiang Cheng. I just stayed outside the gates because I thought Jiang Cheng would probably descend from the heavens on a cloud and break my legs the moment I stepped foot into Lotus Pier, but some of the disciples spotted me and asked me what I was doing there. They said there have been people disappearing just outside Yunmeng, to the southwest and twenty li outside the main city, and when some of the Yunmeng Jiang cultivators went to investigate a few days ago some of them disappeared. So Jiang Cheng decided to take a few more of the Yunmeng Jiang disciples and investigate himself.

Since I have some free time, I’ve decided to help them out. They’ve been gone for four days already – the beast must truly be a handful indeed. It might be fun to go and help, although I think Jiang Cheng might spontaneously explode when he sees my face. Well, maybe the explosion will end up killing the monster, who knows.

It’s quite odd, though; some of the disciples who escaped even said they saw the spectre of Jin Guangyao, that wily old fox, hanging around the cave where they were attacked. Although of course that is impossible, for he is probably still trapped in Nie Mingjue’s coffin, fighting a battle till the end of time. Well, I guess I’ll see for myself if what they saw was true or not.

I had not known that you were capable of silk embroidery. Your skill is indeed fine – as expected of the esteemed Second Master Lan! I shall treasure your gift until the end of time. The cherry blossoms flowered today, and they made me think of you. I wonder if you still remember visiting Tanzhou with me when we were looking for the remaining pieces of the Yin metal? Was it your first time attending such a festival? You looked so surprised by the petals raining down on you then! I miss those times. 

I will write to you again tomorrow when I have rescued Jiang Cheng from the human-eating monster. I will make sure to give you a good account of his face when he sees me there to interfere with his night hunt, ha!

***

Dear Lan Wangji Hanguang-jun Mr Chief Cultivator Sir,

I am writing this letter to you because I know you to be a good friend of Wei Wuxian. Just today, I visited Lotus Pier and found that my uncle has been missing for a week, and Wei Wuxian with him for two of those days. They have apparently gone in pursuit of a human-eating monster twenty li southwest of the main city limits of Yunmeng. It must have been a fierce creature indeed to have ensnared both my uncle and Wei Wuxian

Unfortunately, as I am currently extremely and regrettably tied up in Lanling Jin sect matters, this humble person would like to humbly request for your help in locating and possibly rescuing them. Thank you.

Best regards, yours sincerely and most humbly,

Sect Leader Jin Ling, Lanling Jin sect

[chibinekochan]

How to become a Demon Ruler 106

Part:   01 I 02  I 03  I 04 I 05

GN. Reader insert

taglist:  @ayesha95    ;  @nomnomcupcakesworld ;  @fex-phoenix   ; @depressed-bixch ;   @kitsune-oji

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I somehow wake up just before Barbartos knocks on my door.

  He is pleasantly surprised when I open the door. “Good morning, master. I hope you had a pleasant night.”

“I slept like a stone.” I'm already quite used to this place. It's surprising how naturally I seem to fit in here.

“I'm glad to see you so energetic.” Barbatos sounds relieved for some reason. 

"That will probably only last until our first lesson." I chuckle nervously. 

"I think you will enjoy today's lesson and first you should get ready." Barbatos reminds me that I'm still in my Pyjamas and I blush. 

"Oh yeah, right. Then excuse me. You can go ahead and wait in the breakfast room. If I'm not there in an hour you can start a search party." I make a silly joke but Barbatos doesn't look amused at all. 

"I'd rather not but I will follow your wishes." He looks slightly troubled. 

"I'm all grown up don't worry. I actually know some self-defense too." I make a silly self-defense-like pose. 

Barbatos shakes his head. "I'm glad to know that my master is a capable person but words like these trouble me greatly. Please promise me that you won't get into trouble." 

"I don't think you need to worry about that at all. I mean what kind of trouble could I even get into on the way to breakfast?" I shake my head and shrug. 

"You would be surprised." Barbatos knits his eyebrows. "Well, regardless I trust you, master."

  I can tell that he means 'you better not throw my trust away', it's hard to argue against him. 

"I promise that I will be good." I bow deeply to emphasize my point. 

Barbatos smiles, I'm not sure if he is relieved or just finds it funny. 

"Very well then. I will await your arrival with utmost patience." Barbatos decides to accept my words. 

"I will come soon." I nod and feel very motivated to not get into trouble.

  With that Barbatos leaves me to my own devices. 

The bathroom is once again fully prepared. I wonder if they might have some magical gremlins or something that does the work here. 

It's quite the mystery for sure.

  I take my shower and choose today's outfit. Since I don't know what will be thrown at me today. 

I have a much easier time today finding my way. It makes me feel pretty good.

  "Good morning Diavolo." I greet him with a proud smile. 

"I knew you could do it!" Diavolo is very pleased and Barbatos smiles as well. 

"You are faster here than I expected. I will give you an extra waffle for this." Barbatos starts to stack up waffles on my plate. 

My eyes turn into stars. 

"It was a great decision to have waffles today." Diavolo looks very happy by my reaction. 

Barbatos nods. 

"Actually I have been wondering why you don't eat with us?" I wonder if Barbatos even eats at all. 

"That would be inappropriate. I'm nothing but a simple servant." He is taken aback by my question. 

"You might be right but do you even eat? You've been with me for most of the day without a single break." I genuinely wonder when Barbatos does anything, since everytime everything is already prepared. 

"That is a very valid question." Diavolo sounds like he has never thought about it. 

"Don't concern yourself with me. I assure you that I do in fact eat and even take a break once a while." Barbatos doesn't seem to get the point of my question. 

"When was the last time you had a day off?" Now I'm even more curious. 

"Hmm about 40 years ago..." Barbatos takes a moment to remember it. 

I can't believe this. "What? 40 years? That's way too long. You really need a vacation." 

"I keep telling him to take a day off but he always refuses." Diavolo sighs. 

"I'm in no need of a vacation. I take great pleasure in my work and I'm sure the castle will be in ashes once I return." Barbatos is serious. 

"You are the kind of person who needs to be ordered to relax aren't you?" I sigh, it's impossible to imagine him casually. 

"I think you have the wrong picture of me. I can relax all on my own." Barbatos doesn't get it. 

"Maybe you need to show a more casual side of yourself." Diavolo chimes in from the side. 

"I will consider it." Barbatos doesn't sound serious. 

"Maybe we should order him to eat with us at least?" I look towards Diavolo. 

"Oh, what a splendid idea. I have not considered that." Diavolo is fully onboard. 

"Who will serve you while you eat then?" Barbatos frowns. 

"I think we can manage to stand up and get our food ourselves." It's a very easy task. 

"I don't doubt that but it would be inappropriate for me to let you get your own dishes." Barbatos’ frown grows only deeper.

"How about joining us for tea at least? We have done that before." Diavolo brings up a great compromise. 

"That would be acceptable." Much to my surprise, Barbatos agrees. 

"I wish I had time to bake something." I have not seen today's schedule yet but I fear it will be very loaded. 

"I'd love to try your baking one day." Diavolo smiles gently. 

"Once the party is over you will have more time and then you can bake as much as you want. We might have a lesson until the party. It might be a good learning experience." Barbatos ponders about this for a moment. 

"It would be a great experience. I mean surely my cute little sibling could teach you a human recipe?!" Diavolo looks at me. 

"Sure, I can teach you." I decide to play along. 

Barbatos’ eyes light up. "In that case, I will add a lesson to your training."

Who would have thought that this was so effective on Barbatos? Baffled, I look at Diavolo. He smirks at me. I give him a thankful smile. 

With that our breakfast ends.

  Somehow I look forward to whatever will be thrown at me. Even when I will probably regret thinking this. 

"Today's first lesson will be provided by me." Diavolo surprises me with this. 

"Really what will we do?" I'm pretty curious now. 

Diavolo seems to enjoy my excitement. "Haha, you will have to wait and see." He joyfully laughs. 

"Don't forget that you need to bring them to your office by 10 at the latest." Barbatos casually reminds Diavolo. 

This doesn't bother Diavolo a lot. "I know. After my lesson, we will have you learn about politics. Honestly, it's just about filling out papers." Diavolo sighs just a little bit. 

"It is very important work." Barbatos glares at Diavolo. 

"Anyway, let's not waste any time." Diavolo suddenly seems to be in a rush. I suspect it's to get away from Barbatos. 

"Okay, see you later Barbatos." I lightly bow to him.

  Diavolo waits for me at the entrance of the room. 

We walk for quite a while until Diavolo finally opens a big door.

The light blinds me for a moment. Much to my surprise, I see a vast garden. It's very well maintained.

  I'm very impressed. "This garden is very beautiful." I look at it in awe. 

"I'm glad you like it. I thought you would like to see something else after being stuck inside all day." Diavolo seems much more relaxed after hearing my excitement. 

"That is very thoughtful of you." It's very sweet of Diavolo. I spot many plants that I have never seen before. 

They all look very interesting. 

Diavolo watches over me with a big smile. "Watch out, some of these bites." 

"Really which of them?" I can't help but be curious. 

Diavolo chuckles and points to some ominous-looking plants. "These devil traps for example." 

I look at them from a safe distance. "I should note to keep away from them."

"This is actually today's lesson. Studying the plants of the devildom. I told Barbatos that this would be more effective than looking at pictures and we also agreed that you could use some fresh air. Being cooped in the castle isn't good." Diavolo is always so considerate of me. 

It's very sweet."I will definitely remember this plant." I have to agree. 

"There are some other nice plants here. Oh, the blood roses are my biggest pride. They are in bloom too. Let's go there next." Diavolo is especially excited about this. 

"That sounds great." I honestly wonder how amazing they are. Diavolo certainly sold them to me.

  On the way Diavolo points out other plants that I need to keep away from. He does a good job of making sure I remember their appearance. 

Soon I see the blood roses, they are similar to human roses but way bigger and with sharp thorns. They look beautiful and dangerous. 

Diavolo looks at them with such admiration that it makes me smile. 

I step a bit closer but somehow I stumble over something in the ground. I almost fall face-first into the flowers. That certainly would have ended very painfully for me. 

But miraculously I got caught by Diavolo.

Effortless he holds me up. He is so close right now that I feel his breath on my face. 

His eyes are very pretty from this close. He stares at me for a moment and then carefully places me on the ground. My heart is pounding, I wasn't ready for this at all.

  "Are you alright?" Diavolo is slightly flushed. 

"Y-yeah thank you for catching me." Slightly embarrassed I fix my outfit. 

"You need to be careful. I don't want you to get hurt." He sounds unusually soft.

Somehow it's very effective on me. "I will." 

"Maybe, I should carry you just to make sure…" Diavolo seriously ponders over this. 

"I don't think that is necessary. I will be careful." Somehow I imagine him throwing me over his shoulder to carry me. I can't risk it. 

Diavolo looks a bit sad. "Alright, maybe next time then." He had that sad puppy face again. 

"Maybe." It's so hard to be strict with him. I should take lessons for that from Barbatos.

  This thought causes me to smile.

"Hold my hand at least." Diavolo doesn't seem to be able to let this go. 

I guess I can do this much for him. "Alright." 

Diavolo is very happy about this. 

He holds his large hand out for me and I hold it with just enough strength to not let it go. He in turn holds mine firmly, but I assume that he holds his true strength back.

  Somehow it feels very nice.

[rose7420]

😃hey! Okay so after some brainstorming haha, I thought of this! :

What if a teen borrower loved to explore Loki’s room in the Avengers Tower? 😂 Like she would climb up on his desk and look at the books that he was reading, climb on his nightstand to look at and admire his horned helmet, etc..but she did all this while he was sleeping because she was way too scared to find out what he would do if he ever caught her. But this whole time, Loki had been pretending to be asleep while he secretly watched the small teen and thought it was adorable at how her face lit up. One day, he decided that he was going to meet her. Loki sneaks up behind her, and before the teen could react, there were two hands on either side of her that came together, cupping her in between both of them. She starts crying and is shaking really badly, so now Loki has to deal with the consequences of how much he terrified the tiny girl and has to figure out how to calm her down🥺

Here we go! 👍🏻Let’s get this fluff.

-Loki knew the tiny girl was currently exploring his belongings, she had been doing it for awhile now. The girl however, had no idea that Loki knew of her presence. He wanted to change that.

-He first saw the tiny girl a month ago. He had been laying down on his bed trying to go to sleep when he heard a tiny oomph.

-He created an illusion of himself asleep on the bed in the exact other was but his real self, who he had made invisible, stood up and went to the source of the sound.

-He found it on his desk, a tiny girl who didn’t even reach the height of his thumb was currently standing on one of his books.

-He had no clue how she had gotten up on top of it, the thing was over half her height! No matter, she walked across it curiously constantly throwing worried glances towards Loki’s sleeping form.

-Loki felt no urge to play a prank on this tiny mortal. She was so curious to learn and discover, and he found that fact enthralling.

-Loki watched from afar as she jumped off the book and made her way to his gold, horned helmet.

-Thing thing was enormous compared to her. It could of served as a house with room to spare. And just to think, he used it for his head.

-Curiosity shown bright in her eyes, he’d never seen such a wonder for such mundane things. She walked around the outside of the helmet and at one point tried to climb on top of it. Which was adorable to Loki.

-Then she walked inside the space the helmet created. After she had had her fill of new discoveries, he watched as she scaled down the leg of his desk and made her way towards a hole he had never seen before, and disappeared through it.

-That was about a month ago, and now Loki watched with just as much wonder at the tiny being as he had back then. But he was planning to do something a little differently.

-Loki creeped over to the book that the girl was standing on and placed his hands on either side of her.

-Y/n was so engrossed in the book she didn’t notice the giant pale hands around her until it was too late. Her world was reduced to the small space between his palms, darkness the only thing she could see.

-He was going to kill her. Smush her, trap her, eat her, anything he wanted to do and she was powerless to stop him. Her chest became very tight, tears welled up in her eyes and her vision went blurry.

- Y/n couldn’t breathe. Light came in her prison and she faintly registered the giant man’s face above her. If she had paid more attention she would’ve noticed that he held infatuation in those eyes, not violence or anger.

-Loki knew something was wrong when he opened his hands to reveal the small girl. She had collapsed on her knees and held her hand against her chest. He could hear tiny wheezing sounds coming from her lungs.

-His heart sunk with guilt from scaring such a small mortal.

-“Here we go little one, let’s put you down.” He did so and knelt to be at her eye level. From the sudden loss of contact of his hands her breathing regained normalcy.

-“You are in no danger her small one.” Y/n looked up surprised.

-“But I was standing on your book!” Y/n said.

-“There is nothing wrong with curiosity, in fact I’ll let you borrow that book when we are done here.”

-Y/n’s body sprung with excitement and she couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face.

-“What do you go by, little one?”

-“My name is Y/n, and yours?”

-“Please call me Loki. I see you have taken an interest in my helmet little y/n, why is that?”

-Y/n felt her cheeks redden. “It so shiny and big how could I not like it!?” She exaggerated with her arms.

-Loki laughed at her words.”It is only big to you small one, here why don’t you take one for yourself.” Loki had conjured a tiny, gold helmet the exact replica of his own, offered on the pad of a fingertip.

-Y/n couldn’t believe it! It was so shiny and her own to have! She stepped up to his offered fingertip and placed the helmet on her head.

-Loki smiled at the adorableness of this tiny mortal. He reached over for the book she had been standing on earlier and shrunk it down to a manageable size for her. He offered that to her too.

-She looked at the book that was now the proper size for her and took it. She was about to leave but then thought of something.

-“WE DIDN’T COME UP WITH A HANDSHAKE!” She exclaimed loudly.

-Loki was surprised of the sudden outburst but humored her when she help her raised fist to his finger. He very carefully tapped her tiny fist with the tip of his finger.

-“Alright we need to work on that handshake.” Y/n said eyeing him.

-But the next time Loki saw her, she was wearing that helmet like it was her own royal crown.

[m-y-fandoms]

Korekiyo Shinguuji x oblivious crush reader - short imagine

Request: could i request some headcanons or an imagine (whichever you prefer, i’m not picky lol) for Korekiyo with a crush on an incredibly oblivious female reader who never realizes he’s trying to flirt with her/trying to see if she likes him back? sorry if this is a weird request haha :,)

THIS ISN’T A WEIRD REQUEST, KIYO IS MY BABY DADDY. Also you requested female reader, but I wrote this with a female in mind and then realized I never used any feminine-assigned words or pronouns in here, so anyone can read this with themselves in mind! - Mod Kokichi

Warnings: PG-13 in terms of sexual/romantic scenarios and wording

     “So, in essence, that is why the Egyptians worshipped Hathor, in all her grace and beauty. Isn’t that fascinating, y/n?” Korekiyo mused, watching you carefully as you waltzed through the rows of scrolls and ancient texts in his research lab.

     “Yes, it’s a wonderful story! You really are lucky to have traveled to Eygpt! Heck, I’d never even left Japan until...well coming to wherever we are trapped now. Do you mind?” You pointed to a particularly intricate and elaborate book cover on a high up shelf.

     “Not at all, my dear. Feel free to take any materials from my lab that you wish, as long as you promise I can visit your lab freely as well?” You let the words ‘my dear’ ghost over your ears with little to no reaction. Normally, if such a handsome man had playfully rolled those words off of his tongue in your direction, your neck hairs would have stood on end like a startled cat, but with Korekiyo it was different. You did harbor some...feelings for him, but he called everyone dear, right? He was always spewing mature and polite crap like that.

     “Yeah, of course, though I don’t know why an anthropologist would ever waste his time in a plain old dance studio,” you chuckled, on your tip-toes struggling for the tome far above you. Korekiyo snuck up behind you, his chest warm against your back as he reached up and plucked the book down for you, placing it gently in your hands. You held the book to your own chest and turned to face him, finding yourself flush against the wooden bookshelf with the lanky anthropologist trapping you in place. “Thanks, Kiyo!” You felt blood rush to your cheeks as he tilted his head at you like a curious puppy hearing the word ‘treat!’ You tried to settle your stuttering heart. Surely he was just being nice, right?

     “Think nothing of it…” his hands came up slowly on either side of your head, caging you in between his slender arms. “You know, y/n, Hathor is known mainly for her impressive duality. She balances femininity and softness with strength and vengeance. She is a protector, but also is the harbinger of dance, joy, love...sexuality.” His voice deepened into a rasp that was like melted chocolate flowing freely over your ears. His proximity was beginning to make you dizzy. “You remind me of Hathor in many ways. I see the way you take care of your friends here, the way you defend people, but also the with which you dance: the water-like movements of your passion.”

     “...” you stood there, silent for a moment, and then another moment, and then another. He looked at your expectantly, his expression unreadable through his mask. “Well, thanks, Kiyo! I never thought you’d be into ballet! Though I guess dance is a part of culture as much as anything else!” You ducked under his arm with a chipper attitude, shuffling into the open space of his lab, and he sighed deeply, looking at the ground in self-pity. Were you really not interested in him? He couldn’t blame you. Many people saw him as a creep, a pariah. He was a teenager that wore a mask at all times for crying out loud. He endlessly spewed random facts and unsolicited folk tales. Of course people avoided him. But you...you visited him every day. Before his lab opened up, you met with him in the library and inquired about his day. You asked him to eat lunch with you, and walk you back to the dorms after dinner. You asked to hear his stories, and he found himself growing to like you more and more. He didn’t want to admit his feelings until he knew for sure that you felt the same, but it was looking like his old friend, rejection, might win the war once again.

     “Kiyo, this lab is simply amazing! You’re so lucky... you got the biggest one yet! My studio looks like a janitor’s closet compared to this!” You spun around on the new floor on his lab, taking in the sights, book in hand. You’d been here every day since it opened, but dedicated yourself to one section a day, having only reached this floor earlier that evening. You thought knowledge like this deserved time and respect. Korekiyo agreed of course.

     “Well when one’s area of study is the entire world, a proportionately large area is needed for said study,” he drawled, slinking along behind you as you sat in a chair on the main floor. He sat in the chair across from you in front of the wall of display cases holding ceremonial swords and masks as you fingered through the book in wonder.

     “Woah…” your eyes widened innocently.

     “Ahhh, the Kama Sutra? You’re holding one of the oldest copies known to man.” He leaned closer to you, splaying his fingers over the page you were on slowly and seductively. “I had no idea you were this kind of person, y/n…” there’s that confectionary tone again, sweet and dripping with carnal desire.

     “N-no of course not I just...what kind of person do you mean? I mean...I think the book is just interesting, the cover and the design on the spine drew me in and-“

     “We should never judge a book based on its cover, yes?” He let his honeyed-words sink in to your doe-like eyes, “I think human beings, much like this book, hide things within our pages not immediately evident on our covers.”

     “I agree…” his words flew right over your head. “Like you! I didn’t know you had an interest in ballet at all!” He was starting to get frustrated, but he exhaled deeply, his inner voice telling him to have patience.

     “Well, yes, I’ve seen many different forms of dance, and of course, ballet is delicate and breath-taking, but also very strenuous. Another thing we shouldn’t take at face value. I’ve seen the feet of many a poor dancer after a performance, and it really is a harsh contrast to the grace of the dance itself.”

     “Yes, yes! You get it!” He smiled at your child-like wonder, with you seeing only the crinkle of his eyes above the mask. “I know so many men who don’t even think dance of any kind can be a sport. I think many so-called atheletes would give up on day one of ballet lessons.” You chuckled, and he let himself be enveloped in your laughter. He was complete entranced in your aura.

     “So, you will allow me to view your ballet practice in private some time? I’ve seen you with your lab door open in passing, but I would be absolutely delighted if you’d honor me with a private session, so I could focus on you and only you.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his long raven hair falling around him like a bed canopy.

     “Oh, Kiyo…” you began, your own heart hurting at the words you were about the speak, but it was for the best. You didn’t want to waste his time, not in a place like this. “I know you’re interested in ballet, but after those first two trials and this whole not-knowing-when-we-are-gonna-die thing, I don’t think it would be a worthy use of your time to pull yourself away from all of this,” you gestured to the gigantic room around you, “in order to-”

     “Y/N-!” He spoke angrily and abruptly, startling you, before composing himself and beginning again, taking the book from your hand and instead intertwining his fingers in your own. “...I am not interested in ballet, so much as I am interested in you. Do you understand?” You felt your body tense up in complete shock. He wasn’t serious right…? He was teasing you, taking advantage of your naïveté and your obvious feelings for him. Maybe you weren’t hiding them as well as you’d thought.

     “Me…?” You looked at his wrapped hand in yours, the bandages scratchy texture pulling you back down to earth.

     “Yes, you.” He spoke bluntly, with nothing but compassion in his voice.

     “But you’re...you’re so…” he braced himself, waiting for the insults and degrading comments that always followed when he let his walls down around normal people.

     “...Odd? Long-winded? A freak of nature?” He sighed, pulling away.

     “Beautiful…” you could hardly hear your own words pouring from your mouth, the pounding of your heart beat too loud in your ears. You grabbed his hand, and in a moment of fragile silence, began to unwrap the linen that covered every inch of his fingers, then down to his palms and wrists. His hands, now revealed to you fully for the first time, were just as beautiful as his voice and cat-like golden eyes. They were pale, ghostly, ethereal. They looked like they could break at the slightest touch, but withstand any hard labor that was thrown at them at the same time. “Korekiyo, you spend so much time telling others that humanity is beautiful, that you haven’t taken the time to see it in yourself, have you? At least...not for a long while.”

     “Y/N, I-” you reached for the top of his mask with shaking fingers, and he jerked away roughly, terrified. When you reached out again, he didn’t move, steeling himself to be exposed to you. You deserved to see the truth. His eyelids fluttered closed, and his heart dropped into his stomach.

     Your fingertips lingered at the top of the mask before tugging it down gently. He kept his eyes shut tightly as you observed his full face.

     The tip of his nose, which you could tell from the nose bridge was thin, came to an adorable point above his lips. A delicate, milky white chin led up on either side to a sharp jawline, high cheekbones and a flawless complexion. That powdery complexion was met in stark contrast to the blood-red pigment of a matte lipstick staining his lips.

     “Y/N, I didn’t want you to see me...truly see me for the first time like thi-” you brought your lips closer to his until they were touching, and soon found yourself leaning into his chest, into his lap in his seated position in front of you. Your lips pressed into his, a bit more bold now, and your confidence spurred his own. You now straddled his hips, your legs on either side of his thighs, and he grabbed your hips, his hands shaking like a leaf in the wind. He pulled back, scanning your face for any regret, any shame or fear, and sensing none, crashed his lips onto yours again. He roughly sucked on your bottom lip, pulling a small moan from your mouth that excited him more than anything corporeal had in a long time. You never thought he’d be such a good kisser.

     “Korekiyo…” you pulled back again, giving you both some much-needed air. “I never thought that...someone like you would even glance my way. You’re so intelligent, so regal and elegant and different from the norm and…” your words trailed off, and his thumb reached up to your lips, roughly wiping away the red lipstick that clung onto your face as a reminder that he had been there.

     “Likewise, y/n,” he reclined back into the chair with you still on his lap, a little too cocky and cheeky for his own good, but to say the smirk on his messy red mouth wasn’t turning you on would be a lie.