#calling each other “parenting partners”

[hanafubukki]

I just read your “riddle as a dad” trilogy and I was wondering if you could write for a reader that is still beefing with his mom,

like they try and be in the room/at home with their kid when his mom visits and they give her a fleeting glare whenever she says something snarky about their kid’s development and studies like, “You’re too lenient with that child..” and reader gives her the meanest side eye and looks her up and down

[Referring to these fics: 1, 2, and 3]

Hello Anonie 💞💚🌺

I feel when Riddle and his SO became serious, they would have several agreements between them.

Don’t fight in front of their child. (Riddle’s parents always did.)

Talk to each other about their child and what they think is best but also include their child wants and needs.

Riddle would handle his mother when she visited.

They would allow their child’s friends over. Their home would be open and not a prison.

Amongst other agreements.

I feel that when Mrs. Rosehearts visits, Riddle is usually there to handle her. He doesn’t want you to deal with her. He knows how his mother can be, but it’s not like you let Riddle handle her alone. You’re right there with him every step of the way.

You support him, as partners. You two show her what a married couple should act like.

But this is Mrs. Rosehearts we’re talking about, I wouldn’t put it past her to pop in randomly either. Though she seems the more…punctual type in my opinion and would send notices in advance.

So if Riddle is busy and can’t be home one day, I can see you and your child have to keep her company.

If Mrs. Rosehearts does manage to say scathing words in front of your child, I see her being interrupted by your sharpened tone.

Kneeling down in front of your precious one and kissing their cheek before telling them to go play in their room and you’ll call them later for dinner.

Before turning and letting your opinion be heard, making sure your voice doesn’t rise to a tone that your child could hear.

She might be Mrs. Rosehearts, Riddle’s mother, but you’re a Rosehearts now too and she has no say about your kid.

Later on, I can see Riddle comfort you after such a stressful day. Taking comfort in his warmth.

I also see both Riddle and you talking to your young one and settling any worries they might have and how much you two love them.

[bbrainr0t]

For when you flower V

Masterlist

Pairing: Emperor Caracalla x Greek!woman/reader x Emperor Geta

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, hints of PTSD/bad mental health, imbalance in the relationship (sexism, oppression, etc.), toxic, sexual/sensual content, mentions of violence, blood, death, and slavery

Tags: Enemies to lovers (?), slow burn (?), triangle drama/love (but no incest!!), unhealthy/toxic dynamics, slave x masters, no use of y/n, 1st person narrative

Summary: She awakes in the role of being Caracalla's pet, but what does this mean to be this pet and what is expected of her? There is so much to remember for this Hellen, but soon the feelings overwhelm and it seems that gratitude takes on a whole new meaning for her and maybe even for the emperors.

Word count: 3.7K

Dictionary for this chapter:

Hellas = the ancient greek name for ancient greece

I spent the whole evening thinking of Alexandra, watching Caracalla try to entertain himself. He was drunk on wine, so it was an easy job. I was still pained and somehow, he seemed to understand. He petted me lightly and had a separate room made for me, where I got to spend the night. Supervised, I laid afraid.

All night, I could hear moans.

Back in Hellas I never participated in rituals with ecstasy, because I was afraid of what I might do to me. All my life, I had gotten told how it ruined people’s moral compasses, and how they went wild. Men, women, boys, and girls. Some were even killed in the midst of the practice.

Once and only once I accidentally walked near a holy land, where a ritual was taking place. Their moans lured and so I looked. Never had I seen such a sight before. I was conflicted with feelings. There was blood mixed with wine, saliva with seed of life. They were hitting, slapping skin against skin, rolling across the grass like animals. A boy overpowered by men; a woman jumped. But they were enjoying it. I was aroused but filled with fright. I felt a need to join, but I never did. My mother told me to keep my distance.

The cult of Dionysus were people I never got to understand. Celibacy had taken a big part of my life as I was waiting for the hands of Apollo to feast upon me. No other man was allowed. I was kept behind walls like any other young girl of Hellas. The only boy, I had ever talked to, was my brother. He was younger than me, but his dreams were so much bigger than both me and him combined.

We were partners in crime as we would cause trouble around the house. We would misplace our mother’s clothes and pick the pretty flowers from our garden. Everything was right. Each night he would have me tuck him in and kiss him goodnight, just a peck on the cheek. I adored how he would look at me with such light in his eyes. He was the reason I believed the Gods were good - they had given me him.

One day he got the silly idea that he would be a soldier.

I never found out what happened to him, when he was at war, but something had truly changed him. There was no light left in his eyes.

At night when I was about to tuck him to sleep, he began speaking of horrors, but they were none of my understanding. He lost the ability to talk.

I found myself praying for his health every waking hour, but it never helped. Our parents started to blame me for the absence of his well-being. They started calling me names. They asked me questions like: what good am I, if not to help my brother? I was to be the oracle of Apollo after all.

The night before his death, I had tucked him in for the last time. I did not know at the time, but something tells me he did. He smiled at me for the first time in months. He spoke of my name. I was over-joyous.

When I finally fell asleep last night, I dreamt of him. He was smiling.

Then I was awoken by a servant who fed and dressed me like a child. It is as if they are accustomed to treat their masters in such manner. But I did not dare to tell her off as I was afraid of Geta hearing me speak.

It feels like his eyes never left my lips.

I am being summoned to a party – why? I do not know. The servant who told me seemed urgent and so I hurry, afraid that time might be fatal for the outcome of my punishment, if I were to be late. I don’t know what kind of punishment they give their pets, and as of yesterday I’ve decided to live till the day I’ve avenged by brother. I must flower. I must fulfill the prophecy.

Though I am also afraid of what I will meet. Who, I might meet. And what they will put me to - the moans of the night echoing my mind. I ache for peace at heart.

As we reach the doors that I can hear hold back a war of chatter, I get anxious once more. But still, I try to put it aside. All night up until my long-awaited slumber, I thought of all the outcomes. I have nothing to return to back in Hellas - I can only imagine how my home looks today. And so, if I must think of a future, it would be foolish of me to believe the thought, the lie that is “my family is waiting for me to return.” They are not. For that sole reason I must make my efforts last now; I must get close to the emperors so that I can strike them, where it hurts the most.

I could see the burdened’s eyes cry those sapphire tears, the sparrow fail to spread his wings. It hurt, but I am sure, I must succeed. I should not feel bad for them.

I calm myself as I embrace the change of atmosphere. The doors open and I am met with sunlight and song. Beautiful servants all around grabbing at men and women, seducing with their God-given charm. A table full of food and decorated with dead animals in all their lost pride. There’s a light breeze, pushing the delicious smell of wine to my nose. I must not. What is this longing for wine?

Remember my brother’s smile.

I continue to follow the servant as we make it through the crowd. Everybody is busy with each their form of lust, so we glide through smoothly, quickly, thankfully. There is so much life in here that I truly wish not to be a part of. So many deeds that I hope, I only will continue to hear the echoes of in the halls.

Suddenly the servant stops before a clothed table, pointing towards it.

She wants me to go under it.

At first, I am confused, but as I look down at the table, I see a foot slightly poking out. Cautiously, I bend down to slowly remove the cloth to which the foot disappears, scared. I pull my hand back, maybe equally as scared. I take one deep breath as I make my way beneath the table, once again unsure about what, I am about to meet. My heart racing with the beat of the crowd. The temperature rising just well enough, so I feel a small sweat break. I am shaking. But to my surprising, there is an unexpected calm which settles in my heart as I see Caracalla the burdened dressed in his own erratic attire. Messy hair, sleepy eyes, and shaking hands, he is holding around legs, hugging his knees. There are no tears in his eyes, only a biting fear, ill-suited for the occasion.

I had hoped that it was him.

He stares at me, processing, I think, and I just sit and look at him. I must not talk. Caracalla doesn’t move a single bit, but it looks as if his breath slows down. He is regulating himself, and I do the same. His eyes softening by the second as he slowly crawls over to me. “What happened, meus flos?” He looks so concerned. I almost can’t hear him over the crowd.

“…?” I must not talk, so I merely look at him, feeling my eyes lightly flutter. Does he see something I don’t? There was a switch.

He reaches out a hand to go to my throat, and instinctively I flinch, aching my entire being. I hit my head into the table leg behind me. Almost embarrassed, I try to cover it up with a weary smile, but that does not seem to fool him. Another panic grows, confused and fused together with curiosity. I suddenly feel like the one who’s out of her mind, like we’ve switched roles. His eyebrows furrow lightly. “Let me see. Come here.” His voice so soft, astray.

I was wrong, this is not Caracalla the burdened nor the erratic – this is a whole new side to him. What is he doing here? How has he deprived me of all my sense and taken it for himself? A prey and a predator with soft paws and no claws.

Caracalla’s hand reaches my throat and trails a pain all around. His fingers so kind. I look at him and see only worry. The fear is gone as if it never existed. The noise miles away, him so close in body, in mind. I try to pick the pieces together for the puzzle that is him, but I can’t. The same I do for me, but I cannot.

“Who did this to you?” He meets my eyes.

Eyes on my lips. A hand on my throat. The images of yesterday flashing, overruling my reality. Geta’s arm holding me up as if I am nothing, a strength unfit for his figure. An act so fit for his position, but not towards me – a mere nothing compared to him. Hatred, a pure desire in the eyes of a madman. The fire within. He burns.

Caracalla plays along and holds his hand there like Geta - but it’s not the same.

It’s like he dances with the flame, so it tires out. Caracalla knows and so he acknowledges. He might not know the whole truth, but he dares to see the pain which has been inflicted on me. His touch almost healing.

God, I long to be drunk on something.

I feel myself on the verge of eruption. I dare think, I want to tell him, in hopes he will help. Foolish. Remember my brother’s eyes.

“My emperoooor? Ceasar… Caracalla, where are youuu?”

And there I see the burdened return. He removes his hand quickly as he crawls back, further in, underneath the table. Seemingly, he doesn’t know where to put his hands. I yearn for them to be put back on my neck.

The cloth behind me moves as I feel a hand graze my shoulder. I yelp as it drags me out from underneath the cover with such brute force, throwing me up at my feet. Though the world slightly shaken, I am met by a man much taller than I with slobber hung from his lips, his eyes dark with lust, his breath drunk on desire. “You’re not him…”

I stare at him blankly, afraid to move. He seems thoroughly disappointed. At my ancle I feel Caracalla’s fingers nudge me, pulling me carefully to come down again as if he is warning me. The man lets his eyes wander all over me as he licks his lips.

Then I hear them again, see them in his eyes. The bodies from the cult all intertwining in a mess of ecstasy. It’s lust, a feeling so raw and vicious known for tearing even the best of man to his knees, to atoms. It’s a feeling that does not mirror in me yet something my curiosity won’t let me settle about. I feel repulsive and even more when admitting to myself that I am curious to hear this man’s thoughts - to figure out the mysteries of the Dionysus cult.

Caracalla nudges me once more, this time a bit more like a yank at my sandal.

“I haven’t seen you here before…” The man inspects my entire being inch by inch with a heavy gaze, seemingly finding an interest at my throat. I can only imagine what he must think. He talks some more from which I only understand a few of the words. “Let me see …, won’t you, …?” His hand reaches out for me to take while a grin spreads on his face, wine having colored his teeth red. It’s first now I notice the smell of opium that this man reeks of.

I blink. There is such a strong want inside my heart intertwining with my logical reasoning. For a moment I see him not as a man but as a ticket to the bottle, even if it just is a small drop. I long for the numbness. Have I lost my moral compass already?

“Quintus.” Another speaks.

Saved by chance, perhaps. I correct my back and look towards the voice.

“Emperor Geta!”

The sparrow wears new clothes but still the crown. “For how many times must I remind you not to attend these events?” Geta’s voice is stern.

“Well this servant-“

“Out.” He doesn’t let him finish. It’s not only a warning. Geta waves over some guards and they arrive swiftly.

They grab at Quintus and try to pull him away, but he gives them a fight. He dares to throw a punch, making one of the guards drop his helmet. A little victory, yet it is to no effort for his apparent escape, because four more guards gather up close. He fights until he is knocked out. A guard smashing his staff to his head, blood splattering from nose in front of and on Geta and I.

Solely, I stand shocked, perhaps even more scared. I seem to be watching it all happen before me, but I struggle to apprehend the reality. Dissociated. I feel as if I take blame of this man’s struggle. I blink again.

Geta stands unbothered, wiping the blood off as if it was dirt. However as soon as the man is out of the room, he switches just as Caracalla did just before. A puzzle piece unfit for the big picture of the emperors. “Where’s my brother?”

For a second I see myself reflect in his eyes. Reflect in him. Foolish. Perhaps I should ask, where is my brother, tyrant?

“Please.” It’s only a whisper.

The whole image I had put for Geta in shambles right in front me. I see how he wishes to have the courage to cover it by how it looks to pain him to say that word to me, to the woman he had threatened the night before. I see how the wine has settled between his lips and left its mark. Is this him without sense?

I point to the cloth, covering the table. I notice how Caracalla’s hand still lingers at my feet, his rings cold on my skin. I don’t want them to move away, but I see Geta and the ticket to the senselessness. Geta, the worried.

I might not understand him, but I think I understand this worry.

My brother dead in the sea. My own voice repeating in my head, praying: Hades, please lead him safely into death and let his soul perish but beautifully, carefully into your hands. The cold coin in his mouth, tugged under his tongue.

His gorgeous, gorgeous smile.

Geta pulls his brother out from underneath the table, both looking disarranged, but it’s not long before the sparrow puffs his feathers, his responsible-brother gown. They talk briefly, quietly, so that the crowd steal their words and throws them around. The only words I hear is Geta, speaking to me in my tongue: “Take him to his chamber.”

“Why are you speaking that language, brother? You know, I don’t understand.” Caracalla marks.

“Do not worry.”

I nod at Geta. Maybe out of fright or perhaps of a mutual understanding. The man who had me at the brink of death just yesterday now barely feels like a memory, more of a nightmare. A distorted depiction of the reality before me. I must not forget how he pained me. But… oh, how I understand. I am split in two.

I want to hate them so bad. I do; I must do. The Gods knows I must.

Caracalla looks at me with eyes so trusting. A fragile and troubled soul trapped behind a fancy façade. A will so unwilling. He holds my hand and walks off, dragging me along. Geta gaze follows yet he is frozen in place. A parade of pride waiting for him to perform before the party, I am sure. Intoxicated, incompetent of his role, I am sure.

But he stays, loyal to his duty, and here I hold Caracalla, incapable of the duty.

The Gods must know this empathy is only human. My brother must. Alexandra must.

What would they have done? I do not know. I am only human after all. Please, Apollo, bear over with my own fragile soul.

We make our way to Caracalla’s chambers. His eyes daring only to remove themselves from me to look ahead, to find his way. I try to take mental notes where and when to turn. He seems curious of my thoughts, but I know to not tell. I only wonder how it might shamble him to hear them, the truth of how I wish to be gone, and how I wish not to forget. Too much is already disappearing from my head.

My brother’s smile.

“Do you like wine?”

I look at him. I think I must not, I mustn’t. It will do no good for my mind, for my conscious. My guard will be gone; who knows what might happen?

The Gods know that I want to do well, when I nod.

I’ve had enough of these thoughts.

Caracalla calls over servants, handing me a glass as we enter through the ports of his chambers. The red poured almost to the top; they’ve been accustomed to do such. The drink of the Gods, I think, it must be good for something. Is it not?

I take a sip. Two. I can’t get enough of the taste that touches my tongue, the way it tingles as it goes down my throat. I feel it warm almost instantly, much more than the sun preying from outside. I feel Caracalla watching intensely as I do. His eyes on my lips. He takes a sip or two as well. He watches my lips just as his brother did - with such pleasure.

I calm my nerves with another sip or two, and it seems to spark a laugh for Caracalla.

“Careful now, meus flos! So eager…” He giggles and shakes his head. It’s like his earrings play a sweet symphony, glowing in the light of day. Playfully, they call to me. Caracalla says my name as he walks towards his bed, patting on the silk for me to sit.

My heart is beating so fast, yet my head is not flooded with thoughts. The sweet, sweet symphony flowing in my blood. I sit. “Good girl.” He praises me as his pet, flashing his golden tooth.

Those words do something to me. My cheeks heat. He chuckles and takes another sip. I watch how his finger holds the glass so delicately yet so possessively. How they grasp the neck softly, not letting go.

I go to take another sip, but before the sweet liquid reaches my mouth, he snatches it from me. I yelp, trying to get it back, making him hastily remove his hand from out of my reach. He laughs and drinks the rest. “You have to make yourself deserving of this drink, meus flos.”

He’s messing with my insides.

“Lay down.”

And I do so, my head on the pillow.

Caracalla puts down the glasses and crawls over to me, lowering himself to lay his head on my stomach. A feeling so odd crawling beneath my skin. Usually, my nerves would be alarmed, infected with filth, but I cannot deny this feeling that his touch feels good.

His hands crawling on the side of my legs, caressing and feeling on top of the fabric. The warmth of his touch and the wine keeping me from hesitating, from being frozen. Curiously, I let my fingers linger in his hair, watching as his entire body tenses but then relaxes. God, his hair is so soft beneath my touch. I take a joy in petting his hair, twirling it in between my fingers and pinching the ends. Sensation after sensation as his own hands wander from my hips to my waist, feeling the curves almost a bit too carefully, inspecting my body.

I notice a pit in my stomach that I never knew I had.

It’s like he inhales me as he breathes at a pace I haven’t seen before. It’s heavy as if he barely carries the heavy weight of it, so slow as if he is afraid of seeing the end of the next minute to come. I copy this manner and feel how our bodies flow into one, feel how his hair entwines and melts. I melt beneath his weight.

He starts banging his fingers to my side as if they were drums, tickling me to the point where I jolt - I feel a giggle escape my lips.

“no-“ A word escapes as well. I stop completely. Fright replacing every nice thought fluttering in the depths of my stomach.

But Caracalla looks up at me with such delight. Light shining from his eyes, endearing to look at. His smile is so wide, so bright, and pretty. It looks so pure. “I knew you could talk.” His voice like grains of sand falling through a strainer. Raw but so delicate. “I’ve thought of your voice from that night, every night.”

I blush. He chuckles once more.

“Keep it safe for me. I want it to be mine to hear. And mine alone.” The words are so sour but coated so sweet. There are sparkles all over the sea within the blue orbs. The alcohol starting to numb even further.

“Now. Hold me as I sleep.” He nods. “Will you do that for me, meus flos?”

I nod.

“Will you?”

“Yes.” I answer, quietly.

He smiles satisfied and lays his head back down, humming a joyous melody. My hands getting lost within his goldish locks.

A part of me feels as if I should be alarmed, warned even, remembering the harsh touch, the peeking which the sparrow threatened me with, but I do not. And I know, I shouldn’t take pleasure in this moment, but the Gods know. They know how a human must have its flaws. It’s how they intended it to be. Is it not?

I fear this new feeling in my stomach is far from done.

A/N: Okay... it's getting there guys... the tension. I am a bit nervous about this chapter, so I hope it's for your liking :,) Please do give me feedback as it helps me and motivates me! Any like, comment or question will do - it is all very welcome!! And I quite enjoy answering them/hearing your thoughts!!

Next chapter: 23rd of February (?)

Taglist: @syraxnyra, @omg-hellgirl, @t6gse370, @duckyhowls, @littlemissholy, @naysha140, @lover-rep-fanfic

[midnightshindig]

The rex meeting parents thing was absolutely adorable🙏 bouncing off of it could we get something similar but with meeting your younger sibling(s)? And just generally how he is with kids💕💕

Rex x Reader: meeting the siblings

my qualifications: I have a sister in middle school and a six year old brother, they've both met my partners multiple times over the course of the last five years. And they're snotty little menaces (/pos)

hcs under the cut!

After meeting your parents, Rex is cocky

He's terrible with parents but that went great, he's going to be amazing with your siblings

"Thank you for coming with me to babysit, sorry about our date..."

"No no, it's okay! I bet they're gonna love me, I'm great with kids."

and, much to your chagrin, he's right

The minute they set eyes on him, your ten year old sister and six year old brother are allllll over him

"I like your hair! Why is it like a girls? Do you wear jewelry? Do you want to see my tiara collection? Can I braid your hair? Does it hurt to be pulled up like that? Can you do my hair like that?" your sister, spouting off a million questions a minute

In comparison, your brother is quiet, staring at him in awe

Rex FEEDS off of this attention, opting to pick up your brother with his permission, tossing him in the air effortlessly

What's even the point of being a superhero if you can't throw a six year old every now and again?

You stand off by the doorway, eventually migrating to sit on your sisters bed, watching them play

He takes to children like fire

your sister is teaching him how to have a tea party, and your brother is tangling his hands in Rex's now-down hair.

He'll regret that later when trying to brush it

But for now they're having a grand time

"Would you like more sugar, Sir Rexinold?"

"You know, I think I would!" He holds out his plastic teacup, your sister dropping in a fake sugar cube, and the two of them giggling over it

He fits in so well with them

The only problem is his.... Rex-isms

they don't turn off

"You are under arrest for being a bad guy!" Your sister yells, pointing a fake sherrifs gun at him

"You'll never catch me alive, kiss my ass!" Rex yells back, running through the halls with his hands fake-handcuffed behind his back, held together only by the imaginary bonds of play pretend.

"REX!" You call after them, poking your head out the bedroom door as the two of them race through the halls "No swearing!!!"

you're not certain, but you think you hear Rex hit something before calling back "Shit- Sorry!!!"

soon after your sister returns to the room, holding Rex's "handcuffs" and throwing him in "jail" (on the bed next to you)

You two chat while your siblings briefly entertain each other

"so, does this make you my prison husband or?"

Rex laughs, headbutting you playfully "No way, you're definitely under my protection."

"Says the guy who got arrested by a little girl."

"Hey man!!" He defends, raising his hands "She's vicious, I don't know how you're the superhero in the family, she's so badass all on her own."

"Psshhhtt-" you punch his shoulder, pushing him off the bed inadvertently

He would've caught himself, but, again, imaginary handcuffs.

Soon after dinner, you give Rex the task of putting the kids to bed

"They'll want you to read them a story, or a dozen, but feel free to limit them at three."

You walk in thirty minutes later to find Rex dramatically reenacting the kids' bedtime stories

Your sister is fast asleep, bored of childish tales

but your brother? he's enthralled.

"And then the dragon said 'but I'm just hungry!' and the knight said 'But you're eating the people!'-"

cough cough

Rex turned to look at you, a wide smile filling his face

"And here comes our princess- will you do the voice?"

and how can you not?

So three more storybooks later, and your brother is asleep too

The two of you retire to the couch, your head laid on his shoulder, hands pressed together

"What can I say? they love you." you relent, sighing

Rex wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer "I always wanted real siblings, like, ones that cared about me."

You lean into him "Well these ones love you."

that means so much more to him that you could possibly know.

BONUS:

"Rex- stop fidgeting!"

"But this sweater is so itchy-!" he whines, pulling at the collar

Your sister pulls him by the hand towards the spot where your father, mother, and younger brother are standing, "Rex, Y/n, come onnnn we're gonna miss it!"

You laugh, walking past the two of them and joining the rest of your family

"Cmon kiddo, between me and Y/n, in front" Rex corrals your sister into position

Your matching sweaters blend into a sea of red and silver as the cameraman steadies his focus

"Ready? Say Cheese on three-"

"One-"

Rex looks at the people around him briefly

"Two-"

You slip your hand into his

"Three-"

There isn't anywhere else he'd rather be

"CHEESE!!"

the flash goes off, and your family Christmas photo is taken

[natootaro]

I have headcanons for that au

Douma had some problems with law, but he didn't touch children

Akaza was SA'd (I'm very sorry that I'm doing this constantly, I just love to headcanon him as victim)

Guitarist x Drummer canon (it isn't unfortunately, but they have a relation of old married couple)

They all had sex with each other except Nakime with Akaza

Kokushibo is not as problematic as Douma or Nakime but he revealed the fact that he broke his gf's heart in most brutal way, earlier cheated on her with Nakime

Nakime supports Douma's actions

Douma has already ruined reputation and unfortunately he doesn't give a fuck

Akaza was 16 when he joined the band, Kokushibo was 22, Nakime was 20 and Douma was 18

Former member of the band was Muzan, he was a second vocalist and bassist, he left when he felt like this band won't be ever in prime

He had an affair with Kokushibo, but that's a rumor 🤫

He was low-key jealous when the band had their prime and they somehow found new bassist to the point he was talking shit about everyone except Kokushibo (I wonder why)

Akaza was found by Douma by Tinder, because when Douma's lonely ahh was looking for a partner, he read Akaza's bio and texted him if he want to join the band

Akaza at first was like "wtf" but eventually he agreed

Somehow everyone there are bisexual and the highest body count has Douma of course

If band wasn't problematic, Akaza would just stay

Muzan was just bassist in one album "Tighter" before he left

Akaza and Nakime are sometimes the second vocalists, for example, Nakime is heard mainly in "Get it up" and Akaza is heard in "Shut it up"

Kokushibo is the one that fans don't really know anything about him, he doesn't mind it tho

Nakime always have a little dance to preform when Douma sings "Ala mode" ("Coffee, candy pistachio nut [...]") and Akaza is the one who says "Ice cream will fix it"

Douma behaves like literal Jimmy

His vocal cords are capable of anything

"Witness", "Seven Minutes in Heaven" and "Mastermind" is sung by Akaza with a little help from Douma

Kokushibo's nickname is Kitty, Nakime's mother, Akaza's pinkie, later pinkie pie and Douma's horny drug addict

One time, in the middle of having concert and when Nakime was pregnant, her water broke unexpectedly and the event was stopped. The money was given back and Nakime gave birth to a baby girl, she later named her Mizuki

They stopped then giving any signs of live on media, blogs or anything and after 10 years they did the biggest come back with two new albums, first published was "Kokushibyō Means Black Death - Kokushibo!" (Which songs names are a slight hint what happened in Kokushibo's past, like some of them are named "Antidepressants" or "Abuse Me Harder!") and second, last - "MSI Besides" which ended with "Last Gay Song"

Akaza is the author of every album cover but he really hates drawing it

Kokushibo is gender apathetic

The "For The Love Of God" was based on Douma's experience with his parents forcing him to join into a cult when he was 15. He showed how strict they were and basically brainwashed, while he wasn't getting any of it and being a literal atheist but he still pretended. He is calling Satan, because he doesn't really see any other escape, but in reality, he escaped the cult as soon he turned 18. And when there's a sentence "Come here, I got something to tell ya, Jesus", instead of Jesus is name of the sect leader back then.

And the most stressful part of this story is that members of the cult wanted him to be the second priest and they're looking for him since the day he escaped, which is kinda freaking him out (let's say that he's afraid that they'll travel from Japan to America just to get him back)

Douma is hypersexual

KnY x MSI/band au

(second picture is my idea for album cover "Kokushibyō means black death" which is just for au)

Kokushibo - Drummer (Kitty)

Douma - Vocalist (Jimmy Urine)

Nakime - Guitarist (Steve, right?)

Akaza - Bass (Lyn-z) (let's say that Nakime is behaving more like Lyn-z and Akaza is more like Steve)

[freyadragonlord]

How do I explain how married Han Yoojin and Sung Hyunje are in the post-epilogue Side Stories without sounding like I am exaggerating or making things up...

[svtskneecaps]

see everyone worried and fretted and panicked and yet quesadilla island looked at pepito and went

[freebooter4ever]

I miss having roommates who were also friends ;_; im tired of coming home alone

[biillys]

yo merry christmas i'm thinking about christmas at the hargrove-mayfield's house throughout the years

wanna think about their first christmas together as a family, maybe before neil and susan even got married, or maybe just after. wanna think about what susan got billy for that first december 25th that they knew each other and what neil bought for max. did neil just pass that duty off to susan and stick his name on the from: section of the gift tag or did he put effort in and actually go to the shops and try and find something, specifically for his new step-daughter.

wanna think about the following few christmas' in california where billy never heard from his mom, never even got a fucking christmas card, but max heard from her dad; spending the time between christmas breakfast and christmas lunch on the phone, thanking him for the present he sent in the mail. wanna think about susan listening in, hearing her ex sounding distant and barely focused, agreeing with everything their daughter says, and biting her tongue; half relieved max hasn't picked up on the fact that sam's handwriting and her own is exactly the same, and half mad that sam's willing to take the credit without even blinking.

wanna think about their last christmas in california where they don't even realise it's their last one there; billy hitting his stride in being the worlds moodiest and most hard done by teenager, max following quick in his footsteps. wanna think about how all the gifts hand-picked by susan would be too lame and embarrassing to be thankful for, both kids screwing their nose up at most presents. maybe billy and max exchanging small gifts that christmas becos they haven't been at each others throats all year, only some, and susan thought it would be nice.

wanna think about their first christmas in hawkins, with things still so messy and uncomfortable and rough, but somehow settling into it like it's their new normal. wanna think about it being cold as fuck, none of them prepared for hawkins winters, and everyone walking on eggshells around each other and pretending it's fine. wanna think about max growing up and officially moving into her teenage years and billy counting down the days until he leaves them, adulthood so close yet still so fucking far. wanna think about them all sitting down for christmas dinner and billy barely being acknowledged, things still so tense even though it's been almost two months since everything went to shit, and max forcing out answers every time susan tries to keep the conversation flowing, her doing her best to carry the christmas spirit.

wanna think about a world where there's no living nightmares, no government conspiracies, and no death, but billy still spirals out of control anyway, feeling trapped and cornered in an unfamiliar town with unfamiliar people, his only solution to lash out and fight, anger and violence and distrust being all he knows. wanna think about max coming to the realisation that there's bigger monsters than her asshole step-brother, that maybe billy isn't the start of everyone's problems, just always somehow the end of them. want her to trace the line back to the source and realise neither of them ever stood a fucking chance.

wanna think about a christmas where billy's eighteen and max is fifteen, and they still live on cherry lane, and neil still fucking sucks, and susan still fucking tries, and everything's still awkward, the four of them never quite becoming the family unit their parents try to pretend them to be, but maybe billy and max get along these days, in a way they never could when they were younger, them going from being against each other to realising it's team up or be picked apart.

max gives him a present she saved up for for months, maybe as they're all going to bed, and billy raises an eyebrow at her before sighing and unwrapping it, still too fucking stubborn to be able to say thank you, but somehow brave enough to reach a hand into his room and grab out a present he got for her, and it's unwrapped cos he hasn't wrapped a present since his mom left, so max does her little sister duty and tells him she loves the wrapping and effort he put into it, before actually looking at what he got her, and he walks into his room and closes the door before she can even acknowledge it for the gift it is.

wanna think about billy eventually moving out, but not making it far; too fucking broke to live out his dreams of going home. wanna think about neil clapping him on the back on moving day and telling him he's done good, that this is what growing up is. graduating school, getting a job, moving out, providing for yourself. that's what makes a man. that it was rough there for a while, and he was worried, but he's glad to see his son's shaped up and straightened out finally, thanks to his solid parenting. wanna think about billy having no idea how to react, thinking that's the closest he'll ever get to his dad saying he's proud of him. wanna think about max helping him move and helping him chose a couch, claiming it has to be comfortable enough to sleep on when she crashes there on school breaks. want billy to tell her to get fucked, but buy the couch she picked out anyway.

wanna think about his first christmas out of home, and how how he probably feels indifferent about it at best, and pain about it at worst. christmas was never like the movies growing up, no matter how much susan tried, so it's not like being alone and having no decorations or presents is going to hurt, but he has enough memories of his mum, and a few moments over the years from when max and susan tried, and there's such a build up and fucking atmosphere about it all in hawkins that he can't escape it even if he tried, and he's starting to realise maybe he's really fucking lonely.

wanna think about neil calling him up and billy answering, cos now that they don't live in the same house and billy's finally taking responsibility for his own life, neil's like a whole new person. he wants to do father-son shit like talk about cars, offer advice about fixing the kitchen sink, tell him when to hire someone to fix something and when you should be able to fix something yourself, wants to watch sports games and crack open a beer on a saturday afternoon, and billy makes up reasons to say no most of the time, but sometimes he caves and says yes, cos there's a small part of him that's always wanted this. wanna think about neil calling and asking billy when he's coming over for christmas, saying that susan's cooking his favourite. wanna think about billy not even knowing what his favourite is, but saying he'll be at breakfast by 7:30am before he can stop himself.

wanna think about billy staying 'til afternoon and max raising an eyebrow at him, muttering don't you have a home to go to? while they clean up after lunch, but then neil offers him a beer, so he ignores her, and listens when his dad says he's welcome to stay for dinner, too. wanna think about billy and max smoking a joint out the back while their parents end the day with a christmas movie, and max turns to him and asks him what neil's deal is these days, and billy shrugs her off, too stubborn to look at it all too closely.

wanna think about billy pulling some money out of his wallet cos he has some now, and he didn't have time to get a present, too busy working overtime, but he has cash, so that'll do. wanna think about max handing him a new zippo, then somehow unearthing a whole-ass wrapped present, and when he opens it, it's a set of cheap fake glass cups, becos billy doesn't have any yet and every time she comes over she has to drink something either directly from the bottle in the fridge or remember her own drink bottle, and it's a housewarming gift, asshole, and this isn't my house, billy thinks, this isn't my fucking home, but it's also all he's got, so he finds a place for them in the cupboard above the sink, and max hunts them down the next time she's over first thing.

wanna think about christmas' in their future, when max moves out, when they're in their 20's and 30's, maybe billy keeps coming home, finding an uneasy peace with his dad reserved for special occasions only, the only few times of the year he's willing to lie to himself and pretend things were never as bad as his memories made them out to be, or maybe everything eventually crumbles, and billy finally gets to put some real distance between them, and finally then, he can breathe and stop pretending.

maybe max continues going, her seeing her mom try and so she puts in the effort to try as well, and maybe that works for a while, maybe even a lifetime, but maybe it doesn't, and by the time both her and billy are closer to 30 than 20, the only family they see on christmas is each other, and billy never wraps her presents, and max only gets him practical things, and they drink and bitch most of the time, but it's so much easier to exist in each others space when they don't have to act and pretend and play parts.

[philosophicallie]

my vitriolic hate for the parentals only grows btw. everything i overhear is in fact a big fat negative in our relationship

[nb-and-nd]

just gonna leave this here, this is a part of an addition I made to another post but I feel like it's relevant here too

I regret to inform you the middle class insecurity industry has now given us the concept of "microcheating", which is when your husband talks to people or has friends

[homunculus-argument]

Have you ever thought of something in your own worldbuilding that you didn't intentionally plan, but just connect the dots afterwards like "wait, that actually checks out"?

Like in the story of the Book I Am Not Working On, there's the fisher folk. They don't fish, actually, they live in diaspora and nobody really knows why they're called that, anymore. They're more known for their numerous, strict and often seemingly random and nonsensical ritual purity rules, and stereotypically having absurdly large numbers of children. The twist is, they don't actually have more children than any other peoples of the Empire, their purity rules just ensure that they maintain higher levels of physical hygiene in everything to do with childbirth and handling infants - and therefore have a lower infant mortality than other peoples.

The "why do these people have huge families" thing also had another side: Fetishisation. The fisher folk's purity rules also involve no sex outside of marriage, and there's a myth on top of the stereotype that the reason why they seem to have a massive amount of kids is because their husbands are so good in bed that their wives cannot turn them down even if they're 100% done having kids. And since fisher folk do not have sexual relations outside of marriage, no outsider has had enough fisher dick to verify this.

But while they are loyal to partners, they are also polygamous, both ways around. A perfectly normal fisher marriage arrangement may feature a man and his two wives, and his second wife's first husband. One household may cover seven married partners, and all their mutual children. It's considered taboo to pry into which kids are "really" whose, paternity is unknowable and unless you were close enough to the family to know which one of the wives gave birth, the biological mother is none of your business either. Every partner in the marriage is equally a parent to each child born within it.

And this is where my own "wait hold on" comes in. Besides the lower mortality, the illusion of fishers having insane amounts of kids may also partially come from the way their families are structured. If you've just met a group of five people you don't know anything about, and they all claim that they have nine children each, it wouldn't cross your mind that they might all be claiming the same nine children.

[yundeob]

A NIGHT IN HOLLYWOOD ☆ | ATEEZ SERIES

— featuring ot8!ateez in iconic HOLLYWOOD romance and rom-com movies

— TICKET BOOTH IS CLOSED! 🎟️ : the movies are about to start! all fics will have MATURE CONTENT! MDNI!

sit back, relax, grab your popcorn and tissues, and enjoy the silver screen . . .

THE PARENT TRAP ☆ | KHJ

TROPE: exes to lovers! divorced!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

AS DIVORCED PARENTS to two twin daughters, you and hongjoong have your fair share of work cut out. Driving to piano lessons, cheering at hockey games, drop offs at each other’s houses, it can all be a little much. But could a relaxing summer retreat as a whole family possibly rekindle past emotions you’ve swept under the rug? . . .

— IN THEATRES

DIRTY DANCING ☆ | PSH

TROPE: bad boy!seonghwa, enemies to lovers!au , 60s!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, angst, crack

THAT WAS THE SUMMER before JFK got shot, before the beatles came, and when you were working part time at your aunts summer resort. That was also the summer you met resident heart breaker and cocky entertainment crew member, Park Seonghwa. Remind yourself why you’re suddenly dance partners with him again? . . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

PRETTY WOMAN ☆ | JYH

TROPE: dilf!yunho x formerstripper!reader, strangers to lovers!au, contract lovers!au,

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

LIVING IN BEVERLY HILLS comes with its perks. But for two different people such as yourself and multimillionaire business tycoon, Jeong Yunho, both of you can’t seem to find what you’re looking for in the so called ‘Land of Dreams’. So the proposal is simple really… let him spoil you with money, jewelry and clothes while in return, you stay by his side. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

MR AND MRS KANG ☆ | KYS

TROPE: marriage!au, established relationship, spy!au, assasin!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST, crack

WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT picture perfect suburban neighbourhood couple, Mr. and Mrs. Kang would be at each others necks trying to kill each other first. You’ve both come this far in your marriage while hiding your secret identities, but it looks like only one person can remain standing. I guess you both did promise “in sickness and in health”. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMAN HOLIDAY ☆ | CS

TROPE: royalty!au, princess!reader x reporter!san, strangers to lovers!

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

AS CROWN PRINCESS, you’re on a tightly scheduled tour of European capital cities. But after an especially rough day in Rome, you sneak out of the embassy to explore the so called Eternal City, running into no other than celebrity news reporter, Choi San, looking out for his next big royal scandal. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU ☆ | SMG

TROPE: college!au, stoner!mingi, enemies to lovers!au, fakedating(?)au, y2k aesthetic

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

YOUR YOUNGER BROTHER Wooyoung is desperate in getting you, his older sister in college, to date so that he can finally date in highschool. The options for potential candidates are scarce, considering men flock away like birds the second you’re near. Good thing campus stoner and weirdo, Song Mingi is the same as well. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS ☆ | JWY

TROPE: fashioncolumnist!reader x advertiser!wooyoung, y2k aesthetic, fake dating(?)au, enemies to lovers!au, mutual pining

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

LISTEN, IF IT MEANS getting a promotion at your editorial company as a news journalist instead of pop culture and lifestyle columnist, you’d do anything. And that includes pretending to be the most annoying and clingiest girlfriend to some guy for 10 whole days. But just so you know, Wooyoung likes clingy. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMEO & JULIET ☆ | CJH

TROPE: unrequited love, star crossed lovers!au, mutual pining, secret romance (shakespeare be rolling in his grave rn)

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST

FOR CENTURIES, a plague of hatred and hostility has been present in the relations between the House of Choi and your own. You know you can’t be together, but yet why do you keep catching that dark haired boy staring at you so longingly? And why do you want him just as bad?. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

a/n: for updates, follow my blog! this will be a work-in-progress so I ask for your support:(🙏

taglist: @vent-stink @dazzlingstarrs @vcutparis @xpixie @potatos-on-clouds @showingmafandomlove @bibbleypoof @kpop-will-kill-me @avantalem @beabatiny @gabrielle-brugger @nsixns @amaranth1ne @stayminho @myblovedjyh @kkeshia @rebekah-reads @yoonbroom @4kwp @butterflydemons @iwaizumiismybae @soobinsputnik @stayatinykatsy @atitties @justconniez @kitten4sannie @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @cheolsthicthighs @morethingsfandom @geminiml95 @byuntrash101 @quailbagutte @syubseokie @newworldwritings @urmom26john @sleepy-kat-here @pearltinyy @hjshyhyssnmgwyjh @cursedeastern @starryunho @piratekingateez2001 @jiminbility @paumll @drinkingrumandcocacola @roomsofangel @channies-bbg-room @meanaonthemoon @teeztopia @pommelex @kiln9z @sanhwalvr @youresolivlie @edawg77 @a-0206 @summer-gyu @bvidzsoo @yoongzsmile28 @tournesol155

taglist became too long so find the second taglist here💀 no longer taking requests

11/1/25 update: i apologize for how slow this is taking😭 yes, i still am 100% fully committed to finishing this series! I ask for your patience and understanding🫶🏼

[plethorawrites]

I’m kinda curious as to how the batboys would react with a partner that randomly compliments them (like really sweet and sappy things too, “you’re so pretty, I love how smart your are, you’re perfect,” etc.) + refers to them as Boyfriend, no name, just Boyfriend

Like the reader would be all “hey! This is Boyfriend,” while holding onto him.

Ahhh, I love this concept!! (I only did part of it, but please let me know if you want the other part!)

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Bruce: Would be very confused at first because he's always used to his partners introducing him as Bruce Wayne. And he always knew they did it so people realized their partner was dating a billionaire. He'd expect it from you, like with everyone, but then you simply introduced him as your boyfriend. Alright, that was strange. He assumed it was because it was just your coworkers he met and you didn't care much what they thought. Then it happened with your friends and your parents and each time you introduced him to someone, not as Bruce Wayne the billionaire, but simply your boyfriend, he felt his heart clench a little. His wealth or status hadn't won your heart, he had.

---

Dick: When you don't introduce him by his name the first time he meets your friends, he says nothing about it. He assumes it was a one off. But no. You kept calling him that, barely saying his name at all, if ever. It was always "Oh, my boyfriend likes that restaurant too!" And "Actually, my boyfriend has an early day tomorrow, we'll pass." He soon realized it was your own subtle jealousy showing. You called him your boyfriend every chance you got because you didn't want a single one of your friends looking at him for too long, let alone any strangers getting the idea they had a chance. He was a bit proud, honestly. He found it adorable how you'd drag his arm around his waist to emphasize your point.

---

Jason: He feared love more than anything. It terrified him to give his heart to someone when it felt so fragile he thought if it broke one more time he'd die for good. But then he gave it to you. He still felt hesitant and you knew that. Which is why you would call him your boyfriend every chance you got. You wanted him to know how much you liked people knowing who he was to you. He realized quickly that you did it for his benefit but couldn't bring himself to ask you to stop. He really liked having you say it and it made him a bit more confident in your love for him each time he realized you weren't ashamed of him.

---

Tim: You do it to tease him, but he never responded in the right way whenever you did. He'd lean in as well and start referring to you only as his girlfriend/boyfriend/partner just so it was fair. He rather enjoyed the way it sounded when you called him that. He still couldn't believe you'd actually put up with him, so hearing you state so proudly that he was your boyfriend made him elated. How would it not? He knew you meant it as a dramatic, over the top joke, but he loved hearing it anyway. So much so that you both eventually stopped with the theatrics and began using it sincerely.

---

(Aged up) Damian: He's a proud man, typically. With an ego far taller than him. You called him your boyfriend once before you started dating and he lost it, angry that you didn't give him the chance to ask you to be his girlfriend properly before you began using those labels. Then, you'd use it to annoy him at first. Never saying his name when you introduced him to your friends or family bugged him and you knew it, but you slowly came to enjoy it for reasons other than his frustration. He had to admit, he learned to like it after a while, too. You

[tomboy014]

But if Batman won't adopt Danny... who will?

Starfire, and she is all over her new little brother!

Shortly after establishing the Teen Titans, Robin (Dick) introduces “Phantom” to the group, because seriously, he’s not introducing him as “Danny.”  Kinda defeats the purpose of a secret identity when you use your name in your superhero moniker.  And shows Phantom his room.

Robin’s actual goal is to get Phantom to join the Titans, but even taking short cuts through the Ghost Zone, Jump City is still a good ways away from Amity Park, and he has parents, so… It’s still a nice gesture and all, and Phantom will come visit, but no.

Still, he’s never met other teens who are heroes in their own right like he is, so he’s excited to meet Robin’s new team.  The other Titans think it’s a little weird for this not-member to have his own room in the Tower, but the place is huge, and Robin trusts him, so it’s fine.  It’s a bit awkward at first as they’re all still getting used to each other, but Phantom quickly makes friends with all of them.

But it’s his friendship with Starfire that grows first and fastest.  As soon as he finds out she’s an alien from another planet, he latches on and must know everything.  Starfire more than welcomes the attention. While she knows the Titans care for her, they’re not always… receptive to the traditions and customs of her culture. Phantom, on the other hand, is enraptured as she tells him about her culture, her holidays, the planets she’s been to, everything.

So she asks if he’d be interested in learning Tamaranean? Yes! 100%! Absolutely! Phantom picks up the language quickly and returns the favor by helping Starfire with her English. While the ability to absorb language through lips is handy, it’s by no means perfect, and Phantom helps her with things like contractions, slang, idioms, etc.

It also helps that after a couple sparring sessions with each other, Phantom and Starfire realize just how durable their partner is.  For Starfire, the people and things on Earth can be so delicate. And for Phantom, if he doesn’t watch himself and hurts a human too badly, it’s just more justification to call him an “evil ghost” that should be ripped apart molecule by molecule. Both are thrilled to finally be able to fight all out again without worrying about the consequences if they lose. And Starfire also uses it to teach Phantom some Tamaranean martial arts for aerial combat so maybe he’ll stop crashing into so many walls.

But what really changes the relationship is the Body Swap incident (not to be confused with the Freaky Friday incident). Similar to what happened with the Puppet King in Switched, Phantom and Starfire switch bodies while fighting an enemy.  Unlike what happened in Switched, Phantom and Starfire and two teen powerhouses with green energy powers triggered by emotions. And the emotional triggers they use are in the same ballpark. Starfire’s “unbridled joy of flight” to fly is very similar to how Phantom revels in the pure freedom of flight he feels. Both get angry when they use blasts. It’s very much a “if you believe in it, you can do it” kind of power set. Starfire can’t really figure out Phantom’s more ghostly abilities like invisibility or intangibility, but they very quickly adapt to each other’s shared powers on the fly during battle.  But there’s one power Starfire wants to use against the hordes of minions that Phantom won’t share the trigger for: the Ghostly Wail.  He tries to tell her it’s not a good move, that it’ll use up too much power, it should only be used as a last resort, it’ll cause too much collateral damage, etc., but Starfire wants to know, and eventually he tells her.

“T-terror… and desperation.”

Starfire rushes to give Phantom the biggest hug ever because those are such horrible feelings, and she doesn’t want to imagine what conditions must have led to him developing such a power because no one should have to feel such feelings. He is right; and that is not a power she needs to use to win this battle.  The minions are defeated, the villain is forced into a temporary retreat, and the Teen Titans return to the Tower to regroup and plan.

However, Starfire doesn’t know how to power through and hold onto Phantom’s ghostly form, and as soon as the adrenaline from the fight wears off, rings of white light spread out of her middle, and Phantom turns back into Danny in the middle of the living room.

But more importantly, everyone needs to get out of the way RIGHT NOW because while Phantom can ignore his biological needs for days, Danny can’t, and Starfire has never had to pee this badly ever in her whole life and everyone needs to MOVE, PLEASE! as she rushes into the nearest bathroom.

Phantom/Danny is now panicking, because even as an alien, he’s pretty sure she’s bound to notice that some bits of male anatomy that should be there are… missing.  He’s begging her, through the door in Tamaranean, not to tell anyone about his secret.  He’s not ready to come out yet, and he’s honestly pretty scared he’s about to lose her friendship, too.  Starfire doesn’t really care. So long as you’re a strong warrior, Tamaraneans don’t care what’s going on in someone’s pants, and she’s just relieved she didn’t have to figure out different plumbing while in his body.  Starfire opens the door.  While she knows that the people of Earth are not always as understanding, Danny need not fear her.  She will not tell anyone he's trans until he is ready to tell them himself and supports him and goes in for a hug.

Except you haven’t washed your hands; gross!  They both laugh it off, but when Starfire goes to wash her hands, the water freezes.  The cold energy in Danny’s core is building, and Starfire doesn’t know how to let it out.  They need to switch back to their own bodies soon, or Danny’s body, and Starfire, might not survive.  A little more training so Starfire can turn back into Phantom, and the Titans are ready for the final act, take down the final villain and Starfire and Phantom are back in their own bodies. 

But after that, Phantom is no longer Starfire’s friend.  Danny is her little brother, and she tells him her name is Koriand’r, or Kor’i for short.

<<Prev Next>>

[luv-lock]

⸻ ʀ ᴇ ᴅ ʜ ᴏ ᴏ ᴅ ⸻

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem Reader

Headcanon: How would he be when he's obsessed?

Note: English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

The first time Jason stepped into Wayne Manor, he looked more like a stray cat than a boy. When Bruce introduced him to you—you couldn’t help but notice the defiance in his eyes, like he expected you to reject him immediately. But instead of recoiling from his rough edges, you smiled and offered your hand. It was the first moment Jason felt truly seen.

Jason didn’t know what to do with kindness, especially not from someone who looked at him like he was worth something.

“You’re going to love it here,” you said warmly, still holding out your hand.

He didn’t take it, but he didn’t forget the gesture either. That moment rooted itself in him, and he clung to it in the months to come.

You were the first person to make him laugh in years. It started small—quiet chuckles he tried to hide—but eventually, you had him cackling so hard that tears streamed down his face.

You were unlike anyone Jason had ever met. While Bruce was the stern, brooding authority figure, you were warmth and understanding. You treated him like an equal, never pitying him for his past or scolding him for his sharp tongue. You’d sit with him during his training, patch him up after patrols, and listen to him vent about the unfairness of Gotham’s streets. Jason began to feel that you were the one good thing in his life—a tether to keep him grounded.

Even in those early days, Jason couldn’t help but feel a flicker of jealousy whenever you spent time with others. Whether it was Dick dropping by the Manor or Bruce pulling you away for a mission, Jason would watch, his jaw clenched and fists tight. You were his sanctuary, and the thought of sharing you with anyone else left a sour taste in his mouth.

Jason always found reasons to keep you close. He insisted on sparring with you during training, claiming no one else could push him like you did. He memorized the way you moved, the sound of your laughter when you managed to pin him, and the way your eyes narrowed in concentration. He lived for those moments.

Whenever you went on patrol, Jason was there, watching your back like a hawk. At first, you thought he was just being protective, but over time, his behavior grew more intense. If a thug so much as glanced at you the wrong way, Jason’s fists would leave them unrecognizable. “They deserved it,” he’d mutter, his knuckles dripping with blood, his gaze softening only when it landed on you.

Jason began planting seeds of doubt about everyone around you. He’d point out flaws in Dick’s plans, subtly criticize Bruce’s parenting, and even question Alfred’s judgment, all to make you feel like he was the only one you could truly rely on.

When Jason died, it shattered you. The boy who had been your closest friend, your partner in everything, was gone. Bruce tried to comfort you, but nothing could fill the void Jason left behind.

When Jason came back as the Red Hood, his first thought was of you.

You. The only light he’d ever known. The one thing that kept him tethered to humanity. And you hadn’t saved him.

His obsession became worse, this bitter, consuming need to make you pay for abandoning him—and to keep you. Jason spiraled, his love for you warping into something darker, something unrecognizable.

Jason stalks you now, though he doesn’t see it that way. He calls it watching over you. You’re his, and Gotham is dangerous, especially with the Bat family’s enemies constantly circling.

He knows everything: where you go, who you talk to, what makes you smile. The line between love and control blurs with each passing day.

Sometimes, he visits you in secret. You’ll come home to find your favorite meal waiting on the counter or a new book sitting on your bedside table. Other times, you’ll catch glimpses of him in the shadows—just a flicker of red and black before he’s gone.

And then there are the times he lets himself be seen. He’ll stand in the middle of your apartment, waiting for you to come home. His voice is low, almost dangerous, as he says, “You don’t lock your windows, princess. Someone could get hurt.”

You try to confront him, try to reason with him, but Jason isn’t the boy you knew. He’s sharper now, more unhinged.

“You think you can just forget me?” he growls, pinning you against the wall. “You think you can move on, live your life without me? That’s not how this works princess.”

Jason’s obsession manifests in unpredictable ways. One moment, he’s protective and tender, swearing to keep you safe at all costs. The next, he’s violent and possessive, tearing apart anyone who gets too close to you.

He’s killed for you, though he’d never admit it. That coworker who flirted with you too much? Dead in an alleyway. The stranger who catcalled you on the street? Beaten within an inch of their life.

“I’m doing this for you,” he says, his voice trembling with something raw and desperate. “You don’t have to worry about anyone hurting you. I’ll take care of it.”

You try to push him away, but it only makes him cling harder. Jason doesn’t see the line between love and obsession. To him, it’s all the same.

Jason’s ultimate goal is simple: to have you. To keep you with him, away from the dangers of Gotham—and away from anyone else.

“I’m not asking, princess,” he says one night, dragging you into his arms. “I’m taking you. No one else gets to have you. Not Bruce, not Dick, not anyone. You’re mine, and I’ll burn this city to the ground before I let you go.”

And maybe, deep down, a part of you doesn’t want him to. Because for all his madness, Jason is still Jason—the boy who made you laugh, who understood your pain, who loved you in a way no one else ever could.

But at what cost?

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

[creativepromptsforwriting]

One Night Stand Prompts

by creativepromptsforwriting | do not repost

Person A is not a kiss and tell kind of person, so their friends start to think that they have been alone for way too long now and set them up with Person B. What the friends don’t know is that they both already know each other – intimately.

It was supposed to be a one night stand. Then it became a second night. A third - and suddenly they realized that they had never left.

Person A normally does not go out to clubs. They normally don't accept drinks from strangers or dance with them. And they normally do not go home with them.

Remembering every last inch on Person B's body is not a weird thing, just because they only hooked up that one time. They had just been very thorough. And now the memories are haunting them. In the best way.

Person A's last one night stand ended with a misunderstanding and a lot of awkwardness. To cheer them up again, their friends set them up with a blind date. They meant well, it’s not their fault that it’s the person they had previously slept with.

Person A's friends are obsessed with setting them up with blind dates, and A knows they mean well, but they are just not interested in dating, so they just ask their last blind date and one night stand, Person B, to fake date them, so A's friends stop setting them up.

Can you still call it a one night stand if they actually already had one years ago?

Person A had never had a one night stand before, so they don't know what the correct etiquette is. They are currently bringing breakfast to Person B, who is still in bed, because that's the polite thing to do, right?

What is the worst thing that can happen when you have someone in your bed that you just had an amazing night with? Your parents deciding to pay you a visit, who are just so excited to meet your new partner.

Person A and Person B are in a committed relationship and very happy. So happy that they decide adding a third person for just one night won't change anything.

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