#Paper x yin

[objectshowcommunityrarepairs]

INKBLOT !!

its paper x yinyang i love then so muchg

it can also be named yapper as a joke

this user ships...

INKBLOT!!

Users note: "i love then so muchg it can also be named yapper as a joke"

Ship submitted by: @random-artistic-idiot

[catboygraveunboxing]

im still obsessed with yinyang so heres another very long doodle dump. and expect another cuz of this god forsaken image limit

the yinyangs have breached the second dimension oh good god theyve become physical fuck what do i do

[rowscolumnstables]

Inanimate Insanity Ships I lowkey fuck with (+Disclaimers)

I drew this before the finale btw

[kisulandia]

silly shipping

only the Trophy x Box is explicitly romantic or even affectionate lol

[mong0]

Icicoc got to lazy to crop :/

--^ my oc gray!!

Alzo other pplz amazing drawings!!

This one right here is not mine it's @tophatwearingidiot epik w drawing :P snapshoted to early 😭🙏/ the yinyang from on of ther othrr snsp shotz to

[inanimateinsanitywiki]

a non-comprehensive list of my favorite brian koch cheese credit card answers

pickle wishes he never met taco

nickel needs balloon way more than he realizes

salt needs pepper way more than she realizes

if taco had the chance to do it all again differently, she would

fan's favorite game would be lego star wars

apple still has her pony from santa, which she named "dino brawler". this is presumably the toy she was holding in episode 16

knife tried harder to be good at video games than he lets on

suitcase is still a little annoyed with oj for eliminating her for no reason in episode 7

oj and bomb are on better terms now, but will never be best friends again

he sees soap and microphone having a more sibling-like relationship, since their voice actresses are sisters (judging by the 20+ private replies, someone had some opinions on this one)

mephone 3gs didn't know his crew very well. when he watched them die, he was surprised by how much he felt

pickle genuinely made taco laugh a few times during season one

evil paper liked playing checkers (this implies that this is a trait exclusive to him that paper himself does not share)

mephone x would probably use he/him pronouns, but cobs doesn't put that much thought or humanity into the mephones anymore

mephone4 wanted to impress cobs for a long time, but meeting 3gs recontextualized a lot of his negative feelings

if mephone4 wasn't hosting inanimate insanity, he would probably be a lost media archivist

taco doesn't have nearly enough hobbies. brian thinks that's part of the problem

nickel sees himself as more worthless than most would assume

mephone4 and oj's relationship is "honestly not great"

under the guise of "scheming", taco and mic would sometimes just hang out together when there wasn't anything game-related to do

trophy struggles to do push-ups

despite being an outdated medium, cobs still sends out discs with nothing but propaganda material on them

despite not sharing much screentime together, brian thinks knife and pickle are the best ii yaoi

yin-yang likes being in cars. yin will drive, and yang will pick the music

soap would play splatoon, since all of the messes are just virtual

mephone4 is iffy on physical contact due to his past experiences with cobs

salt genuinely thought her and oj were in a relationship

just like mephone4, mephone4s' favorite food is cookies

cobs doesn't see himself as evil, he's just giving the people what they want. "not what they think they want. what they ACTUALLY want."

if silver spoon and candle are occupying the same space, people will leave because they can't take seeing how silver acts when he's around her

for a long time, baseball was the only person nickel respected

if mephone5 could live an everyday life, he would be a public menace. (destroying property, going up the down escalator)

taco actually enjoys the taste of lemon

while characters like fan weren't originally written with the intent of being on the autism spectrum, he lines right up with it

on a scale of 1-10, the amount that mepad misses toilet is "off the charts"

toilet wanted to impress mephone4 like a son would want to impress a father. "the cycle repeats a bit."

lightbulb and paintbrush take turns feeding baxter, but paintbrush usually ends up doing it because lightbulb isn't particular enough about what she considers "food"

mepad's favorite colors are black and white. "very mesmerizing."

walkie talkie (and presumably other invitational characters) didn't attend the hotel oj party

knife doesn't need to work out. he's just naturally like that

when someone asked if fantube was canon, brian answered "what more do they have to do?!"

springy hasn't had their own cereal in a long time

microphone and taco have both never been closer to someone else than they were with each other

silver and candle are a bit more distant now, but they both agree it's for the best

when the eliminated contestants were still being kept in the hotel oj closet, mepad would "unfeelingly" deliver and check in on them at mephone's request

[miryum]

In the Dealings of Luck (Mattheo Riddle x Reader)

In which you and Mattheo are reading the same book in the library and start writing notes to each other. What happens when Mattheo realises the reader's identity?

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Reader is Hufflepuff and muggleborn and has a fear of ending up alone :)

September 22nd, 1997

Professor Snape had just assigned a project to all of his unfortunate sixth year students. Not even his precious Slytherins were exempt from this. Each student would pick a potion to research for a month. The students would randomly choose their potion from a small selection and as Snape warned, since he had two sixth year classes, another student would have the same potion. 

After having picked the famed Felix Felicis, you went to the library to find a book that referenced it. Luckily (which you found ironic), there was an entire book on the Liquid Luck. You practically skipped to Madam Pince’s desk, thinking the assignment would be a breeze. Everything came to a screeching halt when she informed you that you could not check out the book.

“What? Why?” you asked, staring at her and still holding the book close to you. 

“I’m afraid that since there are two students working on each potion, Professor Snape has asked that all books on the topic be kept in the library so each student has access to all resources.”

Unfortunately, her reasoning made sense, so you grumped back to a table. Cracking open the book and mentally subjecting yourself to evenings now spent in the library, you began to read.

September 26th, 1997

It seemed as if you and your co-reader to All Things Lucky: the Full Composition of Felix Felicis had come to a silent agreement. You would sit in the library on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and they would alternatively pour over the book on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and weekends. 

You had heard from some other friends that they had met up with the person in Snape’s other class that had the same potion as them. The pair would swap notes and run ideas past each other, but for some reason, you weren’t inclined to. With your luck, it would turn out to be a Slytherin. 

The Slytherins in your year were horrid. Years older and younger than you didn’t seem bad at all. In fact, your younger sister was best friends with a Slytherin. The house seemed to get an unwarranted bad reputation. It was just the Slytherins in your year that seemed the worst. Perhaps it was yin and yang. Because Harry Potter and the Golden Trio were in your year, the universe needed to even it out with a Malfoy, Zabini, Nott, Berkshire, and even a Riddle.

Mattheo Riddle had been an enigma to you. You were aware of his presence, as you were sure he was yours, but the both of you kept it at that. He was around. And that was that. Other than the smoking, swearing, and blatant show of girls that paraded by to get his attention, he didn’t seem like a Riddle. He didn’t seem like Voldemort’s son. He was just another Slytherin; nothing atrocious set him apart. 

It was getting late in the library, so with your last bit of time, you circled some key words in the book and shoved a discarded piece of paper into the page to act as a bookmark.

And you left it at that.

October 1st, 1997

You hadn’t managed to get to the library on Monday. Hagrid had just found a new branch of bowtruckles, and knowing your odd affiliation to the current bowtruckles, had asked you to help. It took until dusk to coax the bowtruckles down, even with the reassurance of the old bowtruckles. However, even with your newly acquired bowtruckle friends, that meant you hadn’t been able to do any studying. 

The book thunked down on the table and you flipped it open to the bookmarked page. Silently cursing Snape, you forced your attention onto the typed words, eyes already drooping. It wasn’t until halfway through your study session that you noticed the scribbles on the bookmark you were fiddling with. 

Don’t you think it’s unorthodox to write in a book?

It seemed as if your co-reader was finally reaching out. 

You couldn’t help the small smile that lifted your lips. Maybe this wouldn’t be a horrid project after all. 

September 30th, 1997

Mattheo had thought himself very unlucky when he got the elusive potion of Felix Felicis. He had put off doing any work on the project until the last day of September when Blaise finally began nagging him. The Slytherin was planning to just take the book to his dorm and use a Self-Writing Quill to paraphrase the entire essay until Madam Pince informed him, quite rudely, that the book was not to be taken out of the library. Apparently, there was another unlucky soul who had the same potion as him. 

Almost immediately, he noticed the small piece of paper used as a haphazard bookmark. He flipped to the page to see some sentences underlined. Flipping back a couple pages, he found some notes scribbled in the margins as well. 

Maybe he could use the same passages his co-reader was using. It would save him a lot of time searching for quotes to use. He quickly wrote down the page numbers where the scribbles were.

Mattheo knew the smart thing to do would be to leave the underlined words alone so he could continue copying off of his unfortunate co-reader. But something in him, just before he closed the book, having decided that he had done enough work today, made him flick his pen over the impromptu bookmark.

Don’t you think it’s unorthodox to write in a book?

October 2nd, 1997

Blaise was surprisingly pleased when Mattheo announced he was going to the library for some studying on Felix Felicis. He was relieved he didn’t need to berate the son of the Dark Lord anymore, but when Blasie’s eyes met Enzo’s, they both knew something else was at play. When was the last time Mattheo went to the library on his own free will? 

But Mattheo missed their exchanged glance, already out the door. Even if he was a Riddle, he was still a teenager, and the prospect of exchanging secretive notes with a stranger intrigued him. 

His co-reader had left him a reply on the bookmark, which said, They’re important. And I plan on erasing them once the project is done.

A bookworm, Mattheo realised. And a smartass. Who did he know in his year that was a bookworm? Of course, he could rule out anyone in his potions class, so that left the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Ravenclaw’s were notoriously smart-alecks and readers, but they also didn’t start their projects right away. They were procrastinators, wanting to study their own niche interests before their school work. However, that was a gross overgeneralization, so maybe his co-reader was a Ravenclaw. 

Mattheo went to grab a pack of cigarettes, for those always helped him think, but then he saw Madame Pince’s watchful eye. Obviously, the librarian didn’t trust him. He didn’t blame her, but just once he wished someone would wait to judge him until they knew him better. With a scoff, he abandoned his search for cigarettes and instead tore off a bit of parchment. Instead of writing any of his essay, however, he ran through the mental list of the other sixth years and wrote down those who were in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff.

Padma Patil, Anthony Goldstein, Amanda Goldstein, Leanne Walters, Emily Xiao, Larry O’Donnel, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias Smith, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Y/n L/n…

Padma Patil, Susan Bones, and Leanne Walters all hated him, mostly because he had either slept with them or one of their friends and then didn’t pursue them any further. Anthony Goldstein and Justin Finch-Fletchley were just downright afraid of him, as was Ernie Macmillan, though the kid at least had some spine to pretend to have some bite, when in reality, he was all bark. Amanda Goldstein had a fat crush on him ever since third year, but she really was unappealing in his eyes. Much too meek and weak-willed, though probably someone his father would like. Zacharias Smith was an alright bloke. Hannah Abbott was quiet and the only reason Mattheo knew of her was because she had been his herbology partner once. He thought her much too naive and gullible, but a nice girl nonetheless. 

Was it wrong that he wished his penpal to be you? He was sure his co-reader didn’t know who he was, so it could be any one of the Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws. But god, how he wanted it to be you. You were the first name that popped into his mind, but he had waited to write it down until the end; he wanted to be the only one to see it. 

The son of the Dark Lord had first met you during the sorting ceremony of Year One. You had found Hagrid immediately once exiting the train and clung to his coat. Mattheo immediately clocked you as a muggleborn. His father would not be pleased with the way his eyes scanned over your features. When you got sorted into Hufflepuff, and he Slytherin, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment, but no surprise. You didn’t seem like a Slytherin. 

So, do you have any notes for this assignment I can use? he wrote on a new sheet of parchment and stuck it in the book. Mattheo decided that was enough studying and left.

October 3rd, 1997

I don’t make it a habit of giving out my hard-earned notes when I don’t know if the other person has done any work or not. 

It seemed as if anonymity was making you more bold.

October 4th, 1997

Oh, you’re fun. Mattheo grinned as he wrote back. Anyway I could change your mind? Or do you make it a habit of being a smartass? What house are you in?

October 6th, 1997

I just don’t see why you’re asking for my notes. We’re reading from the same book. You should be getting the same information I am. Have you not started writing your essay yet? And I’m not being a smartass. I’m just being smart. You paused, quill poised over the parchment. After a moment, you slowly lowered it to the paper and wrote, Hufflepuff. 

For some reason, revealing that piece of information seemed earth-shaking. You quickly packed up and left after that.

October 7th, 1997

Mattheo thought about trying to catch his penpal in the act, but where would the fun be in that? His lips parted in that coy little smirk of his when he read that they were from Hufflepuff. That narrowed down his list perfectly. 

Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias Smith, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and Y/n L/n.

He had his suspicions, of course, but that might’ve also been his delusion and hopes of grandeur. He had learned early on to not get his hopes up about anything – not birthdays, test scores, or love. And especially not about trying to break out of the iron-cast mold of being the Slytherin heir.

Contrary to what you may have thought, ever since that first day of First Year, Mattheo had kept you in his peripheral. You were like a song stuck in his head that wouldn’t go away. And the music just kept getting louder and louder. In Second Year, he had noticed all the muggleborns and even half-bloods avoiding him after the first bloody message on the walls. At just twelve, it had cemented what he had known his entire life: he was to be feared. 

But then you had given him the smallest wave in the hallway and the new music had made his heart flutter. He still remembered the relief he felt whenever you weren’t the muggleborn to be petrified. 

The music had gotten louder in Third Year when the Defense Against the Dark Arts class had worked with Professor Lupin (of whom Mattheo had totally known to be a werewolf) on Boggarts. Professor Lupin was wise and didn’t ask Mattheo to stand in front of the cabinet, for they both knew Voldemort wouldn’t be a pleasant sight to see for the other students

Then you stepped up. The Boggart emerged and Mattheo immediately saw the resemblance. The Boggart was an older you, perhaps mid-fifties. The Boggart, poised as you, looked around and, in drab clothing, then shook its head. Mattheo’s eyes flickered down to its hand. No ring lay on its finger. Human you stood, silent, for a while, a crease between your brows. And you muttered the spell and stepped back.

Oh, how Mattheo had wanted to tell you that as long as he lived, he would do everything in his power to ensure that future didn’t become a reality.

In Fourth Year, the music grew into a crescendo. He didn’t have the guts to ask you to the Yule Ball. You were the lovely little Hufflepuff and he had a reputation to uphold. But you were radiant. You hadn’t meant to wear a gown that was green; it was a coincidence. You were wearing the colours of the snake and Mattheo’s little fourteen year old heart was beating hard enough to cause a stroke. He should’ve taken Astoria Greengrass to the dance – that would’ve been the thing his father would’ve wanted – but he couldn’t. Not when you danced so freely and laughed so lovely. Perhaps though, instead of watching hypnotic you, he should have focused on forcing the blood back up to his brain.

The music practically made it hard to hear in Fifth Year. When everyone else was torn between believing Dumbledore and fearing Mattheo’s father or believing their government, you still gave him a little nod in the hallways.

In Sixth Year, the music was all he could hear. Even though he arrived at Hogwarts with a brand-new Dark Mark burned into his forearm, your smile at the opening feast made it all seem worth it.

Hufflepuff, huh? So, are you, like, loyal and kind and stuff? Do you like badgers? Maybe I should call you a little badger.

October 8th, 1997

Your penpal was a part of your life now. It was an expectation that they would have a note ready for you whenever you went into the library. You were sure this essay about Felix Felicis was going to be the best damn paper you’d ever written with how much time you had been spending in the library. Honestly, you should thank your penpal because they gave you incentive to study.

You sound like a Slytherin, you wrote back. And I don’t know. Hufflepuffs are all different, you know? I don’t want it to sound like I’m bragging if I say “I’m kind and amazing and patient.” But don’t call me a little badger.

October 9th, 1997

Do I need to add ‘humble’ onto the Hufflepuff roster, little badger? And you’re spot on. I am of the great house of Slytherin and I am not ashamed to say it. Do you like Quidditch?

October 10th, 1997

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the question. If your penpal hadn’t admitted to being a Slytherin and if Oliver Wood hadn’t graduated a couple years before, you were certain it would be the old Gryffindor. 

I admit, I do like Quidditch. It was really fascinating to me when I first came into the wizarding world, as were most things. I like flying, but never tried out for the team. It was too much physical contact and I don’t want to fall off a broom from fifty feet up. But I still enjoy flying. By your question, I assume you play? And don’t call me little badger.

Maybe you liked communicating with this mystery person more than you let on.

October 11th, 1997

Mattheo was smiling at a piece of paper. He was grinning at a scrap of parchment. He was practically beaming just because his penpal was a muggleborn. And you were a muggleborn. You were one of two muggleborns left on his list: Justin Finch-Fletchley and you.

Mattheo was certain that Justin Finch-Fletchley would’ve stopped communicating with a penpal as soon as he learned they were a Slytherin. So it had to be you. You had to be his penpal.

For once in his life, Mattheo was getting his hopes up.

October 18th, 1997

Mattheo had been collecting a plethora of information on his pen pal – which he was certain was you. The problem was, the project was ending in two days and then where would he be? Without his little badger? Should he say something or let sleeping dogs lie?

With a good conscience, could he even bring you into his life? Who would want to be with the son of the Dark Lord? Certainly not you, who he had come to adore and pine after.

Sweet Salazar, what was he going to do?

October 20th, 1997

“Professor Snape?” You stood in front of his desk after the lesson, bag slung over your shoulder as you clutched the strap. “May I ask you a question?”

“What is it?” the professor drawled, looking over the papers he had received about the unique potions.

You shifted your weight from one foot to another. “Um, I was wondering who was the person in the other class that was studying Felix Felicis.”

Professor Snape’s eyes bored into yours. “Why do you wish to know?”

It took you a minute to reply. “We conversed a bit via notes and I think we would make good friends.”

If you hadn’t known Professor Snape for six years, you could have sworn there was some amusement in Snape’s stare. “Perhaps you should write one last letter to your unofficial partner. If they do not respond, Miss L/n, then I will be amenable to responding.”

With a cautious nod and frustration brewing in your chest at the ambiguous answer, you turned and left.

Your feet took you to the library, where the book on Felix Felicis was waiting for you on its shelf. When you pulled it out, it was like the book opened to the exact page where a new note sat. You flipped through the adjoining pages, a bit desperately, looking for the old messages you and your penpal had written. But the parchment wasn’t there.

Defeated, you took the newer note and unfolded it.

If you’re reading this, you’re realising that I took our correspondence, little badger. I apologise, for I’m sure you wanted it, but I couldn’t bear to part with it. Though perhaps we can reach an agreement. Meet me at the astronomy tower?

Was it a coincidence that you had gotten the Potion of Lucky for your project?

October 20th, 1997

Mattheo stood at the top of the astronomy tower, calves deliciously burning with the exhaustion of climbing all the way up there. It was a pleasurable pain, one that reminded him he was alive.

The cool bite of the wind did nothing against the Warming Charm he had cast, though he was sure that even if he hadn’t thought to perform the spell, the adrenaline in his veins would still keep his heart beating erratically. He stared out at the grounds of Hogwarts, mind silent.

Of course he heard the door creak open and your footsteps on the stone. Of course he could feel the silence between the both of you as you stared at the back of his head.

“Mattheo?” Your voice cut through the silence.

He turned around.

“Hey, little badger.”

[baelabong]

𝖯𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋

—————————————————————————

—————————————————————————

Pairing: g!p Karina x fem! Reader

Synopsis: Y/N, a skilled prosecutor, takes on a high-profile embezzlement case against Jeon Jungkook, while facing off against the formidable defense attorney Karina. As the courtroom battles intensify, so does the tension and jealousy between Y/N and Karina, blurring the lines between their professional and personal lives.

Warning: sex?!

—————————————————————————

The doors of your office open, a smiling Minjeong heading your way with a stack of papers in her hands.

“What’s up, gay-ass”, the woman in the suit chuckled

Rolling your eyes at your antics, you already knew what she was here for.

“Hand me the paper already,” you say with a playful tone

Placing the stack of papers on your desk, you eye the one on top taking it in your hands.

“Embezzlement?” You asked

“I know … but if you keep reading, you’ll see it involves Jeon Jungkook, that celebrity”

Nodding in acknowledgment she continues

“Getting accused of embezzling funds from charities he’s supported? Now that’s something”, Minjeong shakes her head

Being the most talented prosecutor alive, well Atleast that’s what you think, you nod.

“I’ll take it”

With a small smile Minjeong leaves you to it.

—-

Sat in your office, surrounded by stacks of files and evidence related to your latest high-profile case. The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow on the cluttered desk.

Glancing at the headline on your computer screen: "Jeon Jungkook Accused of Embezzlement from Charity" The article detailed the accusations against the internationally renowned celebrity, alleging that he had siphoned funds meant for a children's charity into his personal accounts.

The door to Y/N's office creaked open, and Minjeong her fellow co-worker stepped in.

"Hey, how's the case coming along?" she asked, dropping a coffee cup on your desk.

Sighing and rubbing your temples. "It's a mess. The media is all over it, and the evidence is all over the place.

Jungkook's fans are in an uproar, and the charity is desperate for justice."

Minjeong sat down across from Y/N, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"I heard Karina's defending him. That should make things interesting."

Y/N rolled her eyes, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Interesting is one way to put it. She's already been making her usual snide remarks during the preliminary hearings."

Minjeong leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Just remember, your wife will NOT be happy about this," she teased, winking.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah, well, she can deal with it. This is work."

—-

Over the next few days, Y/N delved deeper into the case. She combed through financial records, interviewed witnesses, and gathered evidence that pointed towards Jungkook's involvement in the embezzlement scheme.

Despite the mountain of work, she found herself looking forward to the verbal sparring matches with Karina during their encounters.

One evening, Y/N was going through a particularly dense stack of documents when her phone buzzed. It was a message from Karina: "Ready for another round tomorrow? Don't be late. ;)"

YIN chuckled, typing back a quick reply:

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Bring your A-game."

—-

Y/N stood in a quiet corner of the courthouse hallway, talking and laughing with her coworker, Mark. He was charming and funny, and y/n knew he had an interest in her. As Mark leaned in to make a joke, Y/N threw her head back, laughing freely.

Unbeknownst to her, Karina had just stepped into the hallway, catching sight of the interaction. Her eyes narrowed, and she paused, her expression a mix of irritation and something more difficult to read.

“What the fuck is she looking at?”Y/N thought, her laughter fading as she met Karina's gaze across the hallway. Karina's piercing stare sent a shiver down her spine, and she could feel the tension radiating from her.

Mark seemed oblivious to the sudden shift in atmosphere. "You should come out with us tonight, Y/N. It'll be fun," he said, his tone playful.

Y/N forced a smile, her mind still on Karina's reaction. "Maybe, we'll see."

Karina's eyes bore into Y/N's, and she could almost hear her thoughts. *Does she really think she can flirt with someone else right in front of me?* The thought was both thrilling and infuriating.

Y/N excused herself from Mark, walking briskly toward Karina. As she approached, she saw the flash of jealousy in Karina's eyes, and it made her heart race.

"What was that about?" Karina asked, her voice low and controlled, but Y/N could sense the underlying tension.

"Nothing important," Y/N replied nonchalantly, though her pulse quickened. "Just work stuff."

Karina's gaze flicked over to Mark and then back to Y/N. "It didn't look like just work stuff."

Y/N took a step closer, lowering her voice. "You're overreacting. Remember, we have to keep this professional."

You walk away from the taller girl, heels clacking as you entered the courtroom again.

The courts atmosphere was electric. The media presence was overwhelming, with cameras flashing and reporters jostling for the best spot.

Jungkook sat beside Karina, looking stoic and composed.

As you presented your case, you couldn't help but notice Karina's intense focus.

Every argument you made, Karina countered with equal force. Always butting in with your statements making your blood boil in anger.

“Your honour, my client did no such thing”, she kept pressing

After the cross examination, Karina asked for a recess, which the judge granted

Taking this opportunity, you cornered Karina in a quiet hallway.

"You know he's guilty, right?" You said, your voice low and challenging.

Karina smirked, stepping closer. "That's for the jury to decide, isn't it?" She paused, her eyes softening slightly.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

You grinned

Karina leaned in, her breath warm against your ear. "Careful, someone might think you're flirting."

Your heart skipped a beat, but thank the Lord’s you kept your composure

"And what if I am?"

Karina's eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Then you'd better be ready for the consequences."

“The fuck, sorry but I have a wife”

With a scoff, Karina walks away turning her back on Y/n.

——-

The courtroom buzzed with tension as the trial resumed after recess. You exchanged a brief, intense look with Karina before the judge called the court to order.

"Counselors, you may proceed." The judge started

Stepping forward, you address the jury with confidence.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the evidence presented today will unequivocally show that the defendant, Jeon Jungkook, knowingly participated in an elaborate embezzlement scheme..."

As you continued your opening statement, Karina watched with a keen eye, her mind already formulating her counterarguments. When it was her turn, she rose gracefully, her presence commanding attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen, what you will see today is not a case of embezzlement, but a misunderstanding and misrepresentation of facts. My client is innocent..."

The trial progressed, with both sides presenting evidence and questioning witnesses. The tension between you and Karina was palpable, each one determined to outmaneuver the other.

"Objection, Your Honor! The defense is leading the witness."

"Sustained. Ms. Karina, please refrain from leading the witness."

Karina nodded, adjusting her approach with a confident smirk. You felt a surge of satisfaction but knew the battle was far from over. When it was your turn to cross-examine a witness, Karina was quick to interrupt.

"Objection, Your Honor! Relevance?"

"The witness's testimony is directly related to the timeline of events, Your Honor."

"Overruled. Continue, Ms. Y/N."

The courtroom drama intensified with each objection and counter-objection. You felt the pressure mounting, but you thrived on it. Karina’s every move seemed calculated to throw you off balance, yet you countered with equal precision.

"Objection, Your Honor! The defense is badgering the witness."

"Sustained. Ms. Karina, please restrain your line of questioning."

Karina shot you a glare, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill at having won that round. But she quickly recovered, pressing on with her case.

"Your Honor, I move to dismiss the charges on the grounds of insufficient evidence."

You felt your heart sink. The judge considered the motion, the courtroom holding its collective breath.

"Motion denied. Proceed with closing arguments."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. This was it—the final showdown. You poured every ounce of passion and conviction into your closing argument, determined to make the jury see the truth.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the evidence is clear. The defendant is guilty of embezzlement. Justice must be served."

Karina followed, her voice steady and compelling.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the prosecution has not met the burden of proof. My client is innocent, and I urge you to deliver a verdict of not guilty."

The jury deliberated, and the tension was unbearable. When they returned, the foreperson stood.

"We find the defendant not guilty."

You felt a wave of defeat wash over you as Karina's team celebrated. The judge dismissed the court, and you gathered your things, your heart heavy with disappointment.

You stormed out of the courtroom, frustration and anger bubbling inside you. Karina caught up with you in the hallway, a smug smile on her face.

"Tough break, Y/N. Better luck next time."

You glared up at her before saying

“Get the fuck away from me Yoo” and with that, you stormed off back to the office.

——-

2:30 am

The clock read as you yawned. After the case ended earlier, you decided to do some extra work to occupy your mind.

Ding

Your phone vibrated as a text popped up.

R:

hey, why aren’t you back at the apartment yet

With a sigh, you closed your phone, packing up your stuff and locking up your office.

Pulling up to your penthouse, you received another text.

R:

Why aren’t you replying?

Deciding to ignore it again, you trudged to the door of your penthouse and entered, taking your time with removing your shoes and coat that kept you warm despite wearing a skirt and blouse.

You realized the lights in the living room were on. Hmm. Walking in, you were met with your wife giving you a stern look.

“Love, where have you been?” she inquired.

“That court case tired me out today,” you said, giving her a pout.

“Hm … is that so? So you weren’t with Mark just then, were you?”

“Give it up, Karina. I’m so sick of today’s bullshit,” you snapped. As if on cue, she stomped towards you, trapping you against the edge of the couch.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” she growled, grabbing your jaw and making you look at her.

You stayed quiet as she continued, “Do you know how hard it was to suppress myself from killing Mark myself for even asking you to go out?”

Your eyes darted away, unable to hold her piercing gaze.

Having enough, she pushed you down on the couch, flipping you over and yanking your panties and skirt off.

You looked behind you as she reached into her boxers to grab her hard-on, the tip red and angry, leaking with precum.

She was even bigger when hard, you thought, almost packing 7.5 inches.

Karina didn’t waste any time. She lined herself up and thrust into you with a single, powerful stroke, making you gasp as she filled you completely. The sensation of her stretching you out was intense, and you could feel your tummy bulging slightly from the sheer size of her.

“Look at you, taking all of me,” she hissed, gripping your hips tightly. “So fucking pathetic. You think you can just flirt with anyone and get away with it?”

You whimpered, her rough handling and harsh words sending shivers down your spine. Each thrust was deep and punishing, driving you further into the couch.

“Tell me, baby, who do you belong to?” she demanded, her voice low and dangerous.

“You,” you managed to gasp out, your body trembling under her relentless pace.

“That’s right,” she growled. “You’re mine. Only mine. And I’m going to make sure you remember that.”

Karina’s thrusts grew more forceful, her hips slamming into yours with a ferocity that left you breathless. You could feel every inch of her, the pressure building inside you as she took you harder and deeper.

“You’re going to take all of my cum,” she snarled, her grip on your hips tightening. “I’m going to breed you so you remember who you belong to.”

The dirty talk only heightened your arousal, the combination of pleasure and humiliation pushing you closer to the edge. Karina’s pace was relentless, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

“You like that, don’t you?” she taunted, her voice dripping with disdain. “You like being used like this, don’t you, slut?”

“Yes,” you cried out, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. “I love it.”

With a final, shuddering thrust, Karina buried herself deep inside you, her release hot and thick as she filled you completely. The sensation of her cum flooding you pushed you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you trembling.

Karina held you close, her breathing ragged as she whispered in your ear, “You’re mine. Always.”

[firelordsfirelady]

V. Ocean and Moon

Author: @firelordsfirelady

Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess? 

Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal

Word Count: 921

Destined to be Yin and Yang

I own no rights to any of the Avatar Last Air Bender characters. 

Author’s Notes

The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16 

Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.

See Y/N’s inspiration here. 

Destined to be Yin and Yang Soundtrack (YouTube)

For two days, I did not leave my room nor did I open my door to anyone. Several times someone knocked at the door to bring me food or ask if I needed anything, but I assured everyone that I needed nothing. By noon of the third day, I was starting to feel better, but I still did not want to deal with Zuko and his attitude. I was busy working on my third drawing since I had sequestered away to my room when three harsh knocks sounded on my door.

“Gentle now.” Iroh’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door that was followed by three softer knocks on my door.

“Unless you have jasmine tea, go away.” I smiled to myself as I continued my sketch, knowing damn good and well that Zuko did not have any jasmine tea with him.

“I told you this was pointless.” Zuko grumbled before I heard footsteps walk away from the door. A few minutes later, however, a set of gentle knocks sounded on my door.

“I have jasmine tea this time.” Zuko grumbled from the other side of the door.

“Tell her you have cookies too.” Iroh’s softer voice said, and Zuko sighed heavily. 

“And cookies.” He said. “I brought jasmine tea and cookies.” Sighing heavily, I set my pencil down and walked to the door.

“I hope the cookies and tea are better than you have been to me.” I said as I opened the door to find Zuko standing there with a tea tray and a small plate of cookies with Iroh standing off to the side behind him. “The tea certainly smells divine.” Stepping to the side, I motioned for Zuko to enter. Iroh gave Zuko a small push forward before he turned and walked away. “You can place the tray on the desk. I won’t ask you to do anything more than that.”

Moving to stand by the bed, I watched Zuko set the tray down before he paused at the sight of the paper laying on the desk. Curiosity was evident on his face as he gently picked up the drawing I was working on. I felt my face heat up as I watched the prince look over my art before I took a seat on my bed.

“Go ahead and say that it is so improper of a princess to have such a hobby.” A humorless chuckle left my lips as I played with a strand of hair.

“I wasn’t going to say such a thing.” Zuko said quietly, which caused me to look at him through my lashes. I had drawn two koi fish—one black and one white—to represent the moon and the ocean spirits, and Zuko was studying the picture with curiosity. “What is the story behind the drawing?”

“I’ll tell you on one condition.” Zuko looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “Make me a cup of that jasmine tea?” Zuko set the drawing on the table before he set to work pouring a cup of jasmine tea. I smiled at him as he handed me a warm cup of tea. “Thank you.” 

Inhaling the vapor from the tea, I sighed with contentment before I took a sip and let the warm liquid wash over my insides.

“The two koi represent the two most important spirits to the waterbenders—the moon spirit and the ocean spirit.” I motioned to the picture. “The black one with the white dot is the ocean because we believe the ocean gives us life. The white koi with the black dot represents the spirit of the moon, and our ancestors learned to waterbend by watching the moon’s pull on the ocean.” Zuko took a seat on the chair by the desk as I continued my story.

“The spirits come to our plane once a year to be mortals for a night. Though I have never seen them in person, I’ve had visions of these two koi fish since I was a young child.” I motioned to the picture. “I’m not sure what form the spirits take when they come to visit us, but I cannot help but think that koi fish is fitting for them.” Zuko looked at the picture for a moment before he shifted his gaze back to me. There was a slight upward curve to his lips as he looked at the picture again.

“You can have it.” I said as he looked at the picture, which made him turn to look at me. “You can have the picture. I’ve drawn them more times than I can count. Plus, I have other pictures to keep.” I smiled at the firebender. “If you don’t want it, that’s fine too. My feelings won’t be hurt if you don’t.” I shrugged before I sipped my tea. “Thank you for the tea and cookies. I appreciate it.”

Zuko slowly stood up and gave me a nod. He looked at the picture for another second before he stood up and delicately grabbed the art off of the desk.

“…Thank you for sharing your story…and for the art.” He awkwardly said before he bowed and turned to leave the room. He paused as he reached the threshold of the door. “I am sorry about what I said to you the other day.” With that, he left the room and closed the door behind him. 

I stared at the closed door Zuko left through, and my cheeks felt warm.

Perhaps there was still some kindness left in the Prince after all.

Tag List @chevysstuffs @puttyly @ginger24880 @night-fall-moon @junieshohoho @0kauy @coolgirl458 @hypnoticbeing @angelruinz

[misshoneyimhome]

Yin & Yan I Seth Jarvis 🖋️🌺

Requested: yes/no

Summary; for jarvy : he’s always cracking jokes and very unserious. but he gives me golden retriever energy. so maybe something with black cat gf + golden retriever bf.

Other notes; Well hello again my sweet Canes fan 🤍 I am back with another Jarvy fic, and though I wasn't entirely sure how I wanted this to play out, I hope I managed to catch your vibe anyway 😅 I must admit, the more I look at and listen to this guy, I'm growing a soft spot for him and emotionally getting swept off my feet 🥰

Tropes & Warnings; Seth Jarvis x reader; strangers to lovers; no warnings (except I mention they sleep together, but that's not really a surprise, is it 😂)

Word count; 2.6K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50, @findapenny, @justwanderingbutneverlost, @cixrosie

_

Seth Jarvis was always the life and soul of the party, sporting the brightest smile and the heartiest laugh.

His demeanour was infectious, capable of brightening even the dullest of rooms, and it came as no surprise that he was often likened to having "golden retriever energy." His enthusiasm was tangible, emitting a warmth and loyalty that drew people to him. Seth’s passion for life simply meant he was always eager for the next big adventure, as he had a remarkable talent for making everyone feel valued and acknowledged, his cheerful nature illuminating any space he entered.

In contrast, you were his complete opposite. Reserved, with a fondness for sarcasm and a preference for solitude, you were often dubbed the "black cat" of your social circle. While Seth thrived in social gatherings, you found solace in quiet moments—whether immersing yourself in the pages of a captivating novel or strolling through the city streets beneath the tranquil night sky. Your wit was sharp, your humour dry, and you proudly wore your introversion like a badge of honour.

Yet despite your differences, you and Seth had an undeniable chemistry. It seemed as if his brightness balanced out your darkness, creating a perfect harmony. And though no one would have guessed that you two were such a great match, it turned out that opposites do indeed attract. 

Meeting Seth had been as surprising for you as it was for him. And whenever people asked about how it all began, Seth could never contain his excitement when telling the story, his eyes lighting up as he relived that fateful moment.

---

"Oh, fuck me…" you muttered under your breath as you strolled along the pavement in the streets of Raleigh. Following a trip to the grocery store, the bottom of your paper bag had split, spilling your groceries – and naturally, the sight of broken eggs spreading across the pavement was the cherry on top of an already dismal day. “Just my luck…”

It had simply been one of those days. And weeks. Perhaps even the entire month.

Your flatmate had been an absolute nightmare lately, with her boyfriend practically living over almost every day. They stayed up all night, their noisy sex accompanied by the blare of the television, and on weekends, she'd invite more friends over, filling the flat with thumping music, dense smoke, and the chaos of impromptu parties. Sometimes, the parties didn’t even stop at weekends.

You were nearing your breaking point, but the issue was you had nowhere else to turn. Sure, you’d been on the hunt for another place to live, but nothing affordable had come up. There had been one or two options maybe, but living with a male flatmate who made it clear he'd only offer reasonable rent if you gave him "a little sugar" three times a week wasn’t exactly your idea of a good deal.

You tried to maintain a positive outlook, really, you did. Even though you knew optimism wasn’t exactly your default setting, it often felt like the universe was working against you. “It's all part of your journey for personal growth,” your mother always said. But honestly, you didn’t feel like you needed much more ‘growth’ at this point. You were pretty content with where you were in life. Almost, anyway.

All you wished for was a little positive energy from the universe. Just every now and then.

So, as you stooped to gather your belongings, reminding yourself to think more optimistically and hope for some good vibes, it inevitably began to rain heavily. Big, fat drops splashed all around you, drenching your clothes and turning the situation into a soggy mess. “Seriously? Well, fuck you too,” you muttered aloud, perhaps a bit louder than you intended, your frustration resonating in the now empty street.

“Whoa, easy there, I’m innocent, I swear,” a male voice suddenly came from behind you, chuckling as he approached.

“What?”

Turning your head slightly to see the approaching figure, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. A cheeky remark from a stranger was the last thing you needed right now. However, as the person drew nearer, he then knelt down next to you and reached out for some of your groceries.

“Need a hand?” he simply asked in a much calmer tone, looking at you with warm honey-brown eyes and a wide smile that seemed to break through the gloom.

You found yourself rather bewildered, to say the least. Here you were, kneeling on the pavement in the pouring rain, and this stranger came along offering to help with your groceries scattered on the ground, including the broken eggs. And you had to admit, he seemed a bit charming and quite good-looking.

“Um,” you murmured softly, not quite sure what to say. “Um… I’m alright, but thanks.” You attempted to offer him a faint smile, though you felt it was futile.

And you were correct. The stranger simply stayed put, picking up the packets of Mentos and the lemons you had bought, as he once again flashed you a smile, seemingly unfazed by the rain. “Well, you do seem like someone who could use a hand,” he chuckled lightly. 

Damn, this guy was something else, you thought. Completely catching you off guard, he just started gathering your scattered items into his arms, still wearing that gentle grin.

You didn’t know what to say. On one hand, you wanted to be left alone, feeling embarrassed enough by the universe. On the other hand, it was rather nice to have someone lending you a hand. And you had just asked the universe for some positive energy, even a bit of luck to come your way, so maybe this was it. You might as well give it a try, you figured. It couldn’t get any worse. Right?

“Well, thank you,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem at all,” he merely replied, his tone genuine. “I’m Seth, by the way. But most folks just call me Jarvy.”

There was a brief moment where you and Seth remained crouched, exchanging looks. You truly felt thankful for his assistance, and as you retrieved the items from your shopping bag, Seth reached into his pocket and pulled out a fabric tote for you to use.

It felt almost like a scene from a romantic comedy. Two strangers meeting when one of the main characters is in a shitty situation and the other comes to their rescue. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more cinematic, the rain stopped.

“I’m Y/n.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/n,” Seth chuckled, holding your groceries close.

You couldn’t help but smile, thanking him once more for his help. There was something about his charming grin, the way his eyes sparkled despite the dark, grey clouds, and how happiness seemed to emanate from him like a shining aura. Seth was truly special, and perhaps he was the stroke of luck the universe had sent your way.

Well, at least until you both stood up and your jeans tore at the inner seam.

“Fucking hell!” you exclaimed, letting out a deep sigh.

Once again, Seth couldn’t help but chuckle. “Looks like you’re really having a day, huh?” He gazed at you with his warm brown eyes. “How about I buy you to a cup of coffee?”

Once more, you were taken aback. This guy didn’t even know you, yet here you were, still drenched, now with torn jeans, and he was just smiling and offering to buy you coffee? Who was this guy? Was it some sort of prank?

But no, it wasn’t. Despite your initial suspicions, Seth turned out to be nothing but a friendly guy who simply wanted to help out someone in need. He also happened to be a professional ice hockey player, playing for the Carolina Hurricanes, although he hailed from Winnipeg. All this you learned over your cups of coffee and even more so when he offered you a lift home.

Naturally, you had hesitated, unsure whether to trust a stranger on the street. However, for once in your life, you decided to push aside the anxious thoughts in the back of your mind and listen to your intuition, which urged you to trust the universe. And as you strolled with him to the nearest coffee spot, discreetly concealing your torn jeans, you felt nothing but grateful that you had done so.

_

Seth Jarvis simply turned out to be the best relationship you'd ever had. Even your mother took a liking to him – and if there was anyone more of a pessimist than you, it was her. And of course, Seth simply chuckled when he’d first met her, joking that now he knew where you inherited your lack of cheerful spirit from. Yet, he never made any negative remarks about it or you.

In fact, he found it intriguing and just smiled at the fact that you were more cautious and concerned about life than he was. You were a planner, always wanting to anticipate the unexpected and be prepared, whereas he was more spontaneous, going with the flow and keeping a cheerful outlook. And as it turned out, you complemented each other perfectly.

Whenever his energy soared a bit too high and led him off track, you were there to keep him grounded and calm. And when your negative thoughts and energy veered into a darker mood, dragging you into an emotional spiral, his positivity and optimistic mindset lifted you right back up.

But of course, no relationship was ever perfect. This truth became especially evident during your first hockey season with Seth while you were dating, spending most nights either at the PNC Arena or in front of the telly cheering him on. While you loved Seth and cherished your time together, the emotional rollercoaster of wins and losses took its toll on your budding relationship.

However, it was also during those low moments for Seth that you found yourself stepping up as the steady rock he needed, cheering him on and reassuring him that things would improve next time. To your own great surprise, you often found yourself embodying the positive spirit, a role you hadn't expected to play. And you couldn’t help but appreciate the positive energy Seth brought out in you, realising how much you were growing together.

Moreover, being with Seth provided a much-needed escape from your dreadful roommate. Though moving in with Seth may have seemed a bit spontaneous to some – classic Seth style – it certainly made your life a lot easier not having to deal with her. Finally, you could just focus on yourself, your work, and now your boyfriend, Seth Jarvis.

And having you around also had a positive impact on Seth. It grounded him and perhaps even added a touch of maturity, naturally noticed by his teammates. Though Seth never lost his playful demeanour, his teammates definitely observed how he became more composed and grounded in your presence. And they never missed the chance to tease him about it.

“Off home to the little missus, are we?” Jesperi would playfully tease.

“Yeah, making sure wifey’s got dinner on the table!” Necas would chime in.

Seth would just laugh it off, but there was a noticeable warmth in his eyes whenever they mentioned you, and he would often reply with a cheeky grin, “You’re just jealous you don’t have someone waiting for you at home with a warm dinner and a smile.”

Living together also brought moments of growth and adjustment. You learned to embrace Seth’s spontaneous nature, finding joy in unexpected adventures and impromptu plans. Meanwhile, Seth grew to appreciate the stability you brought into his life, enjoying the calm and predictability of the routines you established together.

“Ah, I’m sure Seth’s the one making dinner to spoil his favourite girl,” Teuvo teased, winking at you as you then entered the locker room after the game to greet your boyfriend.

“Sure, as if Seth could even locate the kitchen,” you fired back, walking over to him and planting a kiss on his cheek, eliciting laughter from the lads.

“Hey, I can cook!” Seth protested, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Just because I burn toast doesn’t mean I’m hopeless.”

“Oh of course, dear,” you teased back, patting his chest. “Let’s just stick to ordering takeout.”

Despite the playful banter, it was evident to everyone that you and Seth shared something special. His teammates admired the balance you brought to his life, even if they wouldn't admit it outright. And for you, seeing Seth’s bright smile after a long day, hearing his infectious laughter, and feeling his arms around you made every tough moment worth it.

You simply got each other. You never worried that your sharp energy might drive him away. And every day, he reminded you, in his own way, that no matter what, you were keeping him steady.

One night, after a particularly tough game, when Seth came home, flopped down on the sofa, and let out a dramatic sigh. “I need a pick-me-up,” he said, giving you those pleading puppy-dog eyes.

“Want me to sing you a lullaby?” you teased, taking a seat beside him.

“How about a massage?” he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.

“How about you help me with the dishes first?” you countered, nudging him playfully.

“Alright, alright. Slave driver,” he groaned, but he got up and followed you to the kitchen, a smile playing at his lips.

It was one of those nights when his career weighed heavily on him, which also meant it weighed heavily on you. Each time you felt his cheerfulness slowly wane, overshadowed by the darkness of a loss. And it would have been easy to let your own emotions sink with his, to let it all spiral down. But you didn’t; you couldn’t allow yourself to do that. All you wanted was for Seth to be happy, to be his cheerful self.

So, as the two of you shared giggles and inside jokes, moving around the kitchen as you finished up, Seth’s mood quickly returned to its usual buoyant self. His smile widened and his chuckles deepened as always.

“You know I love you, right?” he grinned as he held you close, leaning against the kitchen counter with you in his arms, your hands finding their way to his neck.

“I know – just as you know I love you,” you smiled back at him.

“And if I ever turn into a whiny little puppy again…”

“…I know you’re back to your usual self,” you flashed him a wink before pressing your lips against his.

It was a tender moment yet filled with chuckles and laughter, as always. Something only Seth could bring into your life. And as his hands then found their way to your buttocks, giving them a playful squeeze before lifting you up in his arms, you knew everything was going to be okay.

The love you made that night was smooth and intimate. The sensation of Seth’s body against yours, your skin tingling with heat, covered in sweat as he moved inside you, sent your mind spinning, endorphins flooding your system with a high only he could induce.

Your lives were entwined in a way that felt natural and right, as if you were always meant to find each other. The challenges you faced only strengthened your bond, proving that sometimes, the universe really does know what it’s doing. With Seth by your side, the ups and downs of life felt a little more manageable and a lot more joyful.

[giovannisimp]

Over the next couple of weeks, we’ll be drawing a bunch of BFDI/II ships!

Day 1: Angel Cheesy x Demon Trophy

Day 2: Animal FanTube

Day 3: Side by Side Trophver

Day 4: Read Threat Gattwo

Day 5: Surprise Kiss Suitloon

Day 6: Chibi Payjay

Day 7: Cat Eared MePhone x Dog Eared Poppy

Day 8: TissYinYang Kabedon

Day 9: Clothes Swap Nickloon (BFDI)

Day 10: Magnet Silvercandle

Day 11: Box and Suitcase share a drink

Day 12: Soft Paper x Soft Yin and Edgy Yang

Day 13: Pony Fantube

Day 14: Hurt MePad x Comforting Taco

Day 15: Mermaid Poppy x Human MePhone4

Day 16: Apple carries Bow bridal style

Day 17: Pocket Sized Lightbulb x Normal Paintbrush

Day 18: Taco and Suitcase share a scarf

Day 19: Scene Bow x Emo Microphone

Day 20: Soap and Microphone with child

-Poppy

[kisulandia]

get ready for a silly ship

they QPPs

[ask-campkids-ii]

Welcome To The Meeple Insanity Camp!

Welp… the kids have been begging me to make an account for like 3 hours now so might as well ig :/ -Mephone4

For a small introduction, The Meeple Insanity Camp —or MIcamp for short (it’s pronounced like me-camp)— is an overnight camp for kids grades 3-8 to learn different skills to help them in the wilderness, learn about tech, and socialize and have fun with their peers. Not everyone came though :( -Mepad

Eh, it doesn’t matter! We’re gonna have plenty of fun without them! >:D -Mephone4s

~~~~~

Heya guys! I’m the creator of this au @answithvanzz! Here with more stuff about the blog and au

TW for:

swearing, character death (totally not spoilers), bug imagery, hallucinations (warnings will be added to every post that needs ‘em, these are not all of the warnings)

SUUUUPER short explanation:

My Campkids revolves around the s1-2 contestants as children in the summer between grades 3-8 to grades 4-9 going to summer camp, keep in mind that some of the kids will be ooc, I’m not the best at writing characters (plus they will be different in the au and are based around my hcs)

Where’s the s3 cast?

they do exist in the au, but none of the iii joiners attend MIcamp, and the ones that play a bigger role in the au are just staff

Ships?

prolly not with the kids, even if there were ships between the kids, it would only be between the middle schoolers (like maybe payjay, since they’re both 8th graders in the au)

however Lifering x Tk is canon in the au

Rules for asks:

Nothin’ much, just don’t be weird please ^^

also please don’t expect your questions to be answered immediately, I can only answer when I’m online, and can only make the little arts when I have my ipad

Up for asks: (it’s a long list)

Staff:

Mephone4

Mephone4s

Mepad

Tea Kettle

Lifering

Floory

Campers:

Apple (gr 4-5)

Balloon (gr 4-5)

Baseball (gr 5-6)

Knife (gr 6-7)

Lightbulb (gr 7-8)

Marshmallow (gr 4-5)

Nickel (gr 5-6)

Paintbrush (gr 8-9)

Cheesy (gr 5-6)

Cherries (gr 3-4)

Fan (gr 7-8)

Microphone (gr 6-7)

Soap (gr 5-6)

Suitcase (gr 4-5)

Test Tube (gr 8-9)

Tissues (gr 3-4)

Trophy (gr 6-7)

Yin-Yang (gr 3-4)

Bomb (gr 8-9)

OJ (gr 8-9)

Paper (gr 8-9)

Pepper (gr 7-8)

Pickle (gr 6-7)

Salt (gr 7-8)

Taco (gr 6-7)

[soleilceirinen]

When the darkness comes | Tommy Shelby x shadowhunter!Reader - Part 3

Summary: you are a shadowhunter investigating the sudden rise of yin fen in the Downworld, the trail leads you to Small Heath and a blue eyed gangster. A/N: English isn't my first language, sorry if there are mistakes! Warning: nothing. Part 2

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Following Thomas around wasn’t giving you any extra information, he seemed to be nothing more than a mundane man. Given that your encounter in the alley had been a bit awkward, to call it something, it was time to take action and step into his life. 

You got up and dressed nicely in your regular clothes, no shadowhunter gear this time. It was important to appear normal, you thought, as you grabbed your coat and stepped into the foggy street. 

The Shelby Company Limited building raised in front of you, the view wasn’t any special. You took the opportunity to straighten a lock of hair and make sure that your weapons were well hidden under your dress. With your best smile, you entered the building, heading to Thomas’s office. It wasn’t difficult to find, he was the owner after all. 

A dark haired woman who might be his secretary looked up at you as you stood in front of her desk. 

“I want to see Mr. Shelby,” you said, smiling politely. 

She looked you over from head to toe and rolled her eyes. It made you feel a bit insulted but you tried to ignore it. 

“Do you have an appointment?” she asked reluctantly, perhaps a bit annoyed, as if she already knew the answer. Or as if this weren’t the first time that an unknown woman came to see her boss unannounced. 

You ran a finger across the wooden surface of the desk. “No,” you admitted, looking down. "But I'm sure Mr. Shelby will make an exception for me.”

“Sorry but I can't let you see him without an appointment. Mr. Shelby is busy, he probably won't be back for several hours. I can see if he has any free appointments next week…”

“No, thank you”, you cut her mid sentence and turned around to leave. The skirt of your dress fluttered gracefully as you left under her narrow eyed stare. 

Of course it couldn’t be that easy. 

Once outside in the street, you looked for a quiet and hidden place. The first empty alley would work perfectly. You searched in your purse until you found your stele and rolled up the sleeve of your coat. After making sure that no one was watching, you drew a glamour on your forearm. The burning sensation was quite comforting.

Without hesitation, you resumed your way to the building with the difference that this time no one turned their heads to stare at you. 

You walked past the secretary's desk without her noticing your presence, as expected, and carefully turned the doorknob to Thomas's office. It was closed. With a sigh, you took out the stele again and drew a mark on the door surface. Immediately, the lock gave way under your hand. Carefully, you opened it enough to get in without drawing the secretary's attention. 

Then, you drew a mark on the door again, closing it, as if nothing had happened. 

The office was empty. 

You inspected every surface, the room was richly decorated. Since you had no idea of how long it would take Thomas to come, you took your time exploring every corner until you finally took a seat in the chair behind the dark wooden desk, placing your coat on the side. You took off your glamour and looked through the mess of papers scattered in front of you, business, business, nothing incriminatory. 

But it made you smile, the chaos on the desk reminded you of your own mess in your small apartment. At least you had something in common with that man. Given that you didn’t find anything interesting that could help to clarify any of your research, you leaned back, making yourself comfortable, prepared to wait. 

After a while, you heard the secretary's voice greeting Thomas, as well as his deeper voice. You bit your lip expectantly as he inserted the key into the lock and entered the office, without noticing your presence at first. You watched him hang his dark wool coat on the rack, completely unaware. 

“Good morning, Mr. Shelby,” you greeted cheerfully.

He jumped and turned to look at you with his blue eyes wide open. Within seconds, his gun was pointed at you. 

It made you frown.

"Really?" you complained, clicking your tongue. "Why do you have to point that thing at me every time we see each other? I already told you it's not polite, Mr. Shelby. I don't like it at all.” 

Thomas stared at you in disbelief. He lowered the gun and ran a hand over his face, looking exhausted. “What are you doing here?” he asked quietly.

You shrugged. “I just want to talk with you and make something clear.”

He stood by the bottles and poured himself a glass of what seemed to be whiskey. Slowly, you got up, making sure that he was watching every move of your body. In fact, his blue eyes wandered over your figure shamelessly. 

Thomas got closer to the desk, walking around it until he sat behind, feeling the warmth you had left on the chair. So you must be real after all, he thought, still watching you. 

On your behalf, you hadn’t moved. You sat on his desk crossing one leg over the other, letting the hem of your dress rise up a little more than what would be decorous for a lady. But you were no regular lady. 

You stretched your arm, showing him your dominant hand, more specifically, the back of it. Thomas grabbed it as if by instinct, it seemed that he was going to kiss it but he just held your hand in his, still frowning as he scrutinised your face. His hand was warm and wide, calloused too, and his grasp was firm. Almost as if he were trying to make sure that you were made out of flesh and bone, not some sort of illusion created by his mind. 

“I’d like to try something. What do you see, Mr. Shelby?” you asked, pointing to your hand with your eyes. He followed your gaze as he caressed your fingers absentmindedly. There was your first mark, as well as every other Shadowhunter’s first rune, like black ink in the shape of an eye. The Voyance rune. It helped seeing the Downworld. 

After a few seconds in silence, his eyes grew wider and he cleared his throat. “It’s the tattoo of an eye”, he muttered, stroking the black rune with his thumb. You stared at his face in order to find any sort of recognition but there was none. 

You caressed the pale skin of his wrist with your fingertips. “Don’t you know what it means?”

Thomas shook his head, not letting your hand go. Again, it was as if just by holding it in his bigger one, it could make him believe that you were real.  

“I don’t even know what all this means” he said, gesturing at you with his free hand. “Am I losing my mind?”

His words made you sigh sympathetically. “No, you’re not.” 

You leaned forward, stopping a few centimetres away from his face. Being so close, you could smell the whiskey he was drinking and the faint scent of cigarettes. His blue eyes fell on your lips for a second before jumping away. 

“Are you even real or just a demon on a mission to torture me?” he asked, barely audibly. You smiled and caressed his lips with yours before leaning back, resting a hand on the desk behind you.

“I’m no demon Mr. Shelby. Quite the opposite, the blood of the angel Raziel runs through my veins” you confessed. He seemed puzzled, like someone who is not understanding a single word. “A Nephilim, a demon hunter. And this is not a tattoo, it is a mark which helps me fight. Well, it’s more complex than that but for now I think that’s enough for you Mr. Shelby. I have more though” you said, pulling the hem of your dress up. 

You placed your stretched leg on his lap and immediately he traced the intricate shapes intertwined all over your skin, some were as black as the night, those were the most recent ones, while others were starting to fade away and some remained like old scars, almost invisible on your skin. 

As his hand wandered over your leg, he noticed the muscles under the fascinating shapes of the runes, the same way that he had noticed your scarred knuckles and your callous hands. Definitely, you were no ordinary person, at least not like anyone else he had met before.

His hand started moving up your thigh but you grabbed his wrist with a strength that surprised him, stopping him from reaching up any further. A couple of centimetres more and he’ll touch the dagger that you kept attached to your leg just in case. You didn’t want him finding it out and thinking that you were planning to kill him or something, which would probably lead to him pointing that stupid gun at your face once again. 

“So you are an angel then” he questioned, raising an eyebrow. He was now touching your calf, it felt good to have someone, even a stranger like him, touching you like that.  

You shook your head. “Not exactly, a Nephilim. That’s what I am” you repeated, tilting your head to the side. “What about you?”

Thomas gave you a questioning look and lit a cigarette. He smoked in silence and you observed him. He was something to see, this close. It made you feel something funny in your belly. Focus, you reminded yourself. A dear friend of yours, a warlock named Magnus Bane, had told you once that blue eyes and dark hair were the most perfect combination, or something like that. You couldn’t remember his exact words but right now, you couldn’t agree more. 

“What do you mean?” he finally said. 

“Are you a mundane? What can you tell me about your parents, Mr. Shelby? Did you meet them?” 

He let out a cloud of smoke and shrugged, looking down. “I met them, yeah. There’s nothing to tell, they’re dead.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that” you whispered softly. He nodded without looking at you and squeezed his eyes with his hand. 

“It’s alright,” he said. 

What he didn’t tell you was that his mother used to see things, and that she ended up drowning herself. Now he was seeing things too and the idea of losing his mind was frightening him. He needed to stay clear, for the family, for the business. He shook his head and sighed. 

The door opened abruptly, hitting the wall. All the sudden noise was accompanied by strong footsteps. 

“Tommy! We have a problem with the ships, we need you down there… Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were busy”

You recognised that voice. It was Thomas’s brother, Arthur. You turned your head to look at him over your shoulder while taking your leg out of Thomas's hands, pulling your dress down and pretending to be ashamed by the interruption. Arthur had a big smile on his face, he reminded you of a kid who knows that he shouldn’t be laughing but still finds the situation amusing. 

“I’m not busy, Arthur. Tell me, what is it?” Thomas changed his position in the chair, completely ignoring your presence. As if you weren’t there at all. As if he couldn’t feel the warmth irradiating from your body or smell your sweet scent.  

Arthur made a dismissive gesture with his hand, still smiling. “Don’t worry Tommy. We’ll take care of it later, it wasn’t that important.”

Thomas noticed Arthur’s eyes on you and frowned. You bit your lip, trying to hide your amusement.  

“Something else, Arthur?” 

He seemed to doubt. “Uh, no, I’ll let you two alone.” Arthur turned around and left the office, closing the door behind him. 

Slowly, Thomas turned to you. “Did he see you?”

You nodded patiently. He frowned even harder than before, grabbing his head with both hands. “I don’t understand it. How? I thought I was the only one, that they couldn’t see you.”

You placed a hand on his shoulder. The poor man was almost having a meltdown. “Because I am a Nephilim and I can use marks to make myself invisible. Regular mundanes can’t see me but some have the Sight, they can see the Downworld” you explained quietly, moving your hand up his neck. “I’m not wearing a glamour right now, that’s the name of the mark that makes us invisible, that’s why he saw me.”

He remained in silence, with his face buried in his hands. 

“You said that your aunt could see spirits,” you recalled and he nodded. “Do you know if she can see something else? Has she ever told you stories…?”

Thomas let out a bitter laugh. “Those are just superstitions, gypsy stories.”

You got up from the desk and grabbed your coat, taking a few steps away. “But Mr. Shelby… Don’t you know that all stories are true?”

He stared at you with a softer expression. “Tommy,” he said. It took you a second to realise that he was telling you his name. 

“Y/N,” you said, smiling widely. “I’ll see you around, Tommy.”

Turning around, you headed out of his office. When his secretary saw you she seemed taken aback, a puzzle expression replacing her previous annoyed one, clearly not understanding when or how you got into Thomas’s office.

“Have a nice day” you told her as you passed by her desk.

[inanimateinsanitywiki]

i loved episode 17 but im gonna be so honest, i'm kind of disappointed that they're probably never gonna discuss evil paper again. when brian teased it i thought, "oh, maybe they're gonna revisit him and flesh him out more so he's a better representation of did and explore how alters like him often form to protect the body in some way. maybe he'll come back and protect paper from mephone x somehow", kind of like how invitational took the time to explore yin-yang more and make them a more respectful portrayal of did systems. but nah, we just get a jab at how evil paper was "reductive" and nothing else. i know i shouldn't have gotten my hopes up and the crew probably think it's for the best that he stays gone (understandable), but man..... missed opportunity :^(

[water-lemon-alex]

BASED ON THIS CONCEPT POST!

*this is an AU where MePad lives. If not, replace him with MePhone4. He’s tied to a pink egg…

Bonus: What do you want to see your picked group do? Give a few headcanons?

Reblog for bigger sample size-!