#cursed to put my hands on everything (memes);

[bloodsoakedurge]

How many people are simping for you?

Balasar, after searching our simp database, we found that you are a simp repellant... Sorry but please stay away from me... I want to keep any simp I can get... which is none btw

He says nothing for a moment as he processes the information he’s been given. In that moment, his expression drops to one of.. disappointment, sadness.

❝Good to know.. I guess. But surely this thing can’t be right…❞

[bloodsoakedurge-a]

How Many People are Simping Over You?

❝Is this... good? I assume it is...❞

[rcmclachlan]

"You've got to be joking." Buck reaches up and swats at the yellow clouding the periphery of his vision, which yields the very satisfying sound of metal jangling and the less awesome feeling of whacking the side of his pinky against something with a sharp edge. 

"I've never joked about anything in my life," Tommy lies, then lifts the measuring tape to Buck's cheek. 

Buck pushes the stupid thing away again and cups his hand over his cheek. "Now that's funny."

"Shouldn't be. I just said I don't joke. Evan, put your hand down, don't touch it." 

Making a face, Buck bats at the measuring tape again. 

Tommy makes a face right back. "Stop trying to spread the plague for a second and hold still. That's an order, Buckley."

"That's not what you said last night," Buck snarks, but he obediently tilts his head up and is only a little huffy about it. He also tucks his hands between his knees so he doesn't give into the temptation of smacking the thing away again, or reaching out to twist one of Tommy's nipples through his shirt for the simple thrill of being a brat.

"But it is what I said on Monday night," Tommy muses. His tongue peeks out at the corner of his mouth as he brings his other hand—gloved, the big baby���to gently steady the tape just under the boil on Buck's face. 

Even as pain briefly flares at the suggestion of something touching whatever has taken residence on his cheek, heat blooms in Buck's belly at the memory of Monday night. Monday night was good. Really good. He glances down at his hands, still safely held between his knees, and mourns for the hundredth time that the red lines from the ropes have completely faded. Next time, he'll make sure Tommy ties them tight enough to leave a mark that lasts. 

"So? Are you planning to hang a picture or something? Do we need to get a stud finder?"

"I have no problem finding studs on my own, thanks," Tommy says, then pokes Buck's forehead with a grin. "Look, there's one."

He's so charming. Buck wants to hate it so much, but all he can do is laugh and try to smack him again. Tommy retreats to a safe distance a foot away and his smug little smile gives way to concern. Buck already doesn't like what he's about to say. 

"That thing is almost three inches wide."

"W-Wait, seriously? That's like the size of a frickin' giant weta!" Buck reaches up to touch the thing on his cheek, which pulls painfully just from talking. 

"I'll make sure to use the arthropodic unit of measurement from now on." This time it's Tommy who smacks his wrist. "Evan, I'm serious, don't touch it. Actually, go wash your hands right now. I'm calling Eddie."

Buck drops his head to the back of the couch with a groan. "There's no reason to call Eddie! It's not a huge deal, okay? I was lightly cursed. Josh says I just need to take a bath in hyssop, vetiver, and wormwood." 

There's a metaphysical supply store near Sunset Boulevard that has everything he needs in stock. The employee who answered the phone was very helpful, and they made a good case for buying something called moldavite. 

The look Tommy levels at him is so incredulous that Buck kind of wants to take a picture of him and see if it'll go viral as the next big reaction meme. 

"Evan." Oooh, that's not one of the good 'Evan's. "No offense to Josh, but those are soup ingredients. I'm getting a second opinion. From a medical professional."

As if to punctuate that, Tommy shucks his gloves and pulls out his phone. Buck glowers at him and calls upon the days of Trojans' football plays past, because his coach always said his offensive tackle was a thing of beauty. There is no way Eddie can know that the little red dot from yesterday has ballooned into a monster, and he has no qualms about getting physical to stop that call from going through. 

But something must give him away—maybe the way he plants his feet on the floor, or how he braces his shoulders a little—because Tommy straightens up to his full height, points right at Buck's chest like he's about to cast his own curse, and intones, "Don't make me call Hen."

Buck collapses back against the couch like he's been shot. "You wouldn't dare!"

"I'll even make sure Howie's on the call. Do not test me."

"See if I ever suck your dick again," Buck mutters, even though saying it just feels like he's punishing himself, because his skill level has finally risen to meet his love for giving head. He's reached his final form of a human Dyson. It's moments like this that he wants to kick his own ass for not realizing he was bisexual sooner. He could've been sucking cock for years. Thankfully Tommy's dick is so big that choking on it feels like Buck's making up for all that lost time.

He tries to get a good sneer going but all it does is pull painfully at his cheek. He sucks air through clenched teeth. 

Bringing the phone to his ear, Tommy gives the sage nod of someone who just had their point proven and gestures at Buck's face. "There isn't a lot I wouldn't do for that mouth, but right now? That's not the threat you think it is."

This is so unfair.

"Hey, Eddie, you busy?" Tommy glances at Buck and his mouth twists into a sympathetic smile, even as he clutches his phone a little tighter. "I need your expertise. Well, Evan does."

"Evan does not!" Buck shouts.

Tommy rolls his eyes and turns his back, curling around the phone like he's about to start sharing state secrets. "Did you get a good look at his face when you were on shift yesterday?"

As a matter of fact, Eddie had gotten a look at it and declared it nothing more than a blind pimple, maybe an ingrown hair. And sure, it had been roughly the size of a pin head at the time, but it's honestly not that bad. 

"Uh, you could say that." Tommy pauses for a moment, listening to whatever Eddie's saying, and then spares Buck a glance over his shoulder. "I'm not sure 'infected' does it justice. It looks like it's seconds away from gaining sentience."

Buck grabs the throw pillow he's been sitting on and chucks it at him. 

"I appreciate it, man. See you soon." Tommy clicks his phone off and pockets it, turning around with a big, fake-ass smile. He's still stupidly hot. Buck throws another pillow at him on principle, which Tommy easily dodges. "He's on his way. He's even picking up lunch."

With a grumble, Buck throws himself sideways onto the couch and curls into the back of it. 

"You're pouting."

"You can't even see that," Buck pouts. "This is stupid. All I need is, like, a warm compress and Josh's curse-breaking bath bomb. And moldavite, I guess?"

Tommy heaves a sigh, and Buck tugs his hood until it covers his burning face, mortified. He knows he's being stupid about this, and if this were anyone else he'd have knocked them out and tossed them through the doors of First Presbyterian without a second thought, but this is different. And he hates that he's dragged Tommy into this and completely ruined all the plans they had for their shared 48 off, which was a scheduling gift from the gods and was going to involve so much sex and short rib. 

"Evan."

"Don't," Buck snaps, even though his name sounded gentle and sincere coming from Tommy's mouth. "I made this bed, right? I deserve to lay in it."

"Evan, you did nothing wrong."

When Tommy says it, he can almost believe it, but at the end of the day, Buck was the one who disturbed the spirit of poor Derek Bradley, age 57, murder victim from 1982 by opening his coffin and displaying him for three hundred kids to gawk at. To add insult to injury, Derek wasn't even the main attraction; Buck stuck him in the back with the paper mache spiders he got last minute at Party City. It's only right that Buck suffer for the indignity of being deemed a second rate decoration. Boils and pestilence seem fair in the grand scheme of things.

"I mean, I personally wouldn't have gotten Halloween decor off Facebook Marketplace," Tommy teases, then his voice sobers into bare earnestness, "but that doesn't mean you deserve boils and pestilence. It was just a freak thing. One that a medical professional can definitely handle."

Something gently begins stroking Buck's arm, making long, sweet sweeps, and all the muscles bunched in his back begin relaxing one by one until he's sinking into the cushions. Even when Buck's a general plague area, Tommy still can't stop himself from reaching out to touch. 

Warm with something it's way too soon to put a name to, Buck smiles and rolls over. And freezes. And looks down at the box of Kleenex in Tommy's hand, which he'd clearly been using to stroke Buck with. 

Whatever Tommy sees on Buck's face makes him crack a sheepish grin. "Hey, just because you don't deserve boils and pestilence doesn't mean you don't, you know, still have them."

Buck stares at him for a long, long time, and then finally says, "Kiss me."

"No."

"Kiss me, Thomas." Buck sits up, pushes himself to his feet, and then moans hauntingly, "Kiss meeee."

Snickering, eyes wide, Tommy shakes his head and takes a step back. "Ain't no way, Buckley. I'm ready to start calling that thing Marla."

It's got to be some movie reference, but Buck ignores it and shuffles around the coffee table, arms out the way in front of him like he's in Scooby Doo, groaning so loud it might actually wake the dead. "Kiiiiiissssss meeeeee."

Tommy's almost not quick enough to dodge him, mostly because he's laughing too hard, but he manages to vault over the chair behind him and make a break for the kitchen.

The ensuing chase only ends because Eddie eventually shows up, arms full of takeout from Fat Sal's Deli, and shouts over their cackling, "Oh fuck no, I did not sit through traffic on Highland Ave so I could be part of whatever this is! Get your asses down here or I'm leaving both of you to die!"

[amurotoorudesu]

just a sagau genshin abt the newest banner (geo & hydro dragon my love) (the creator is self insert) LOTS OF OOC

a/n : written in rush cuz i randomly think abt this after knewing next phase banner and i hope i got both of them, i was gonna added about how i forgot ayato & childe exist when i planning on which dps from each vision should i pull, but they make no sense so i didnt include it.

"I didnt mean to look down on your choice, Your Grace. But, didnt your cousin says itll be better just to pull me...?"

You look at Zhongli with the most unserious, more like silly face, thinking about hes actually jealous of your choice on pulling for Neuvillette.

While it's true you need his shield and he would be the first Geo 5 star you have, but who wouldnt want a hydro dragon pure water tester PLUS a water machine gun to pew pew those enemies!

And more better? You have an unbuild Furina too!

"But my cousin also says he would comeback to genshin to pull for Nupi!"

If Zhongli able to curse, he will.

when will you also gave him a cute, silly lil nickname to him too?

"But like, Your Grace—"

"Shhsshhh"

You quickly shut him, putting your own finger on his lips, making a small blush creep onto the Geo Archon.

Zhongli can feel the side eye Neuvillette gave him as the Hydro dragon sips on his pure water.

"But, Your—"

Seriously, you never saw this version of him thats cant control his own usual calm demeanor, but the version you see is the impatient and insists that his opinion is the best.

Not like he's wrong though.

You put your own finger on you lips now and did a mewing pose, kinda making those two old dragon sigh.

whats wrong with this generation...

"Zhongli, hear me out. Nupi is a nuke, or else should i say Nukelet? Thats suit you isnt it?"

Neuvillette sighed again, but he didnt hide his chuckle about his Creator giving him more silly nickname.

"Pardon me, Your Grace. While it doesn't matter to me that you call me that, but I'm a dragon, not a nuke. I dont boom myself"

"But youre a boomer."

"Was that supposed to be a joke?"

"No."

Back to Zhongli. Hes still thinking countless reason about why you should pull for him.

I mean, his material is easier to get (even if youre the Creator and couldve just easily get everything you want), his talent is useful (SHIELD??? BIG PILLARS???? THROWING BIG ROCKS TO THE ENEMIES?????), he got many fans (BUT ITLL BE USELESS IF HIS CREATOR DIDNT WANT TO PULL HIM), he got many fanfics (HE KNEW YOU LIKE TO READ THEM AND HE WILL HACK THE TUMBLR TO SHOWS UP MANY FANFICS ABOUT HIM ON YOUR DASHBOARD BUT EXCLUDING THE HURT/NO COMFORT BCS HE KNEW YOU DESPISE THEM)

But then he come to a conclusion, as he clapped his hand.

"Your Grace, if Sir Neuvillette have Furina on your team, what about Xiao?"

Fuck he was right. WHAT ABOUT YOUR XIAO????? HE NEED HIS FATHER FIGURE!!!!

"Youve got a point..." you pose like the trade offer meme.

"So, who should i choose now? is it you, Sir Zhongli, or is it you, Monsieur Neuvillette?"

"Uhm, pardon me but, why dont you just get us?" ask Neuvillette, putting his cup on the table.

"Dont you think itll be better, Your Grace? You get two dragons and you also have their companions on your team."

"Monsieur, i dont have that kind of money. Im still in high school, heck, a boarding school! Even if i have guaranteed now, i dont think i can."

"But our banner started on your holidays..."

"Ok now you got another point"

"So, what you gonna do?"

"I'll take two dragon, please"

Perhaps Zhongli should thank Neuvillette for his suggestion.

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

another a/n : i post this cuz im at my home, suffering from another sudden sickness (i keep getting nauseous and vomiting plus a bad fever & headache but idk what causes them can anyone tell me 😭) also i have a tooth extraction scheduled on Monday so yeah... wished my future self a good luck

[wolfjackle-creates]

broski I beg of u to tell me about your Danny is Clark’s nephew wip im so intrigued

@hailsatanacab also asked about this one! I shared two snippets for them so check out Part 1 and Part 2. (about 900 words total between the two asks.)

This was inspired by the discussion on a prompt you made ages ago, actually! Here's the post. The main prompt isn't the inspiration, however. It was the comment about Danny joining the JL and [insert spiderman meme here].

Let's see if I have anything I can add. (I changed things enough when posting the first bits that everything else I have doesn't fit anymore.)

Eh, fine. Just went through and wrote another 600 words.

-----

Danny winced. “Yes, Uncle Cl— Kal. Uncle Kal.” Danny glanced next to him and realized Constantine had moved several feet away and was deliberately trying to not attract attention. He bit back a smile and pulled on the Prince Phantom persona Queen Dora had forced him to learn. “Thank you for your assistance, Laughing Magician. I now declare our deal complete and will make no further claims on you.” He waved his hand producing a piece of parchment which he handed over. “As promised, your payment.”

Constantine grabbed the paper and backed away quickly. “Great. Glad to do business with you, your highness. Hope your family reunion goes well. I’ll just—” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, then changed something and disappeared through a portal even as several of the League members present tried to yell at him to stop.

Danny rolled his eyes as he fell back into his more relaxed demeanor. “Oh, please. What more did you want from him? I’ll talk to Uncle Kal and he can decide what is important to pass on. Magician Constantine already told you most of what he knows.”

“Just… come on, Danny,” said Uncle Clark. “We need to talk.”

---

Finding a place to talk to Danny wasn’t the problem, Clark quickly realized. Shaking off his coworkers, however… Bruce in particular did not want to be left out. And Wally was too curious to be put off.

“Danny?” called Clark when he realized the kid wasn’t with him.

“By the viewing window,” said Bruce. “He seems to enjoy the view.”

“Right. Should’ve guessed.” Clark cursed himself silently for forgetting how much the kid loved space. “Batman, please. I know you like to know everything. But can I just talk to my nephew alone? I’ll explain everything I can after, but I need to know how this situation could’ve happened in my own family without my knowledge first without you being there inserting Opinions.”

“Very well. I’ll collect Flash and we’ll leave the two of you alone. But I expect a full report after.”

“I’ll make a peach cobbler, Ma’s recipe, and head to the Manor tomorrow to tell you everything.”

“I’ll let Nightwing know.”

Clark sighed. “I’ll make two cobblers.”

Bruce’s lips twitched upward, but he turned without saying anything more. “Flash! Since this matter is going to be delayed, I believe you still have to file your report on the incident last week.”

Clark chuckled as Flash protested. But he didn’t listen to their discussion, instead joining Danny by the viewing window. He settled an arm around his nephew’s shoulders. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“I can’t believe you get to come up here and look out at the stars any time you want.”

“I don’t get up here as much as I’d like, I’m afraid. And when I am up here, it’s because something somewhere is going wrong so I don’t get to appreciate it as much as I’d like to.”

“So, if you’re an alien, does that mean Dad’s an alien, too? Is that why he is the way he is? Am I part alien?”

Clark laughed and ruffled Danny’s hair. Like this, it felt almost insubstantial, like passing his hand through mist. “Fraid not, kid. No one knows why your dad is the way he is. I can’t remember how often he was tested for the meta gene.”

“Once a year every year from the time he was six until he was twenty-two and graduated undergrad and started living on his own. Then he stopped for a few years. Until he started dating Mom. He accidentally broke her apartment door once and she insisted he get tested again.”

Clark wanted to laugh, but all he could remember was Danny’s earlier statement. “Danny… Are you…safe with your parents?”

-----

Again, anyone is free to continue this! If anyone wants, I can combine everything into one post to make it easier to do so.

[aakeysmash]

Roommate or boss?

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Previous part: part 4.

Next part: part 6.

A/N: High School Musical references (watch the movies!!!). I recommend you to read part 1 again, because a lot of references I made here are also said in the first chapter. This could look like a filler chapter, but it’s really important for future developments!

Word count: 2.2k.

You’re relaxing on your bed on a deserved day off, brand new AC on and a cold glass of orange juice in your hand. You’re scrolling on your phone, chuckling at various memes and sending most of them to Ochaco, who will probably complain about finding 62 videos from you and having to react to each one. You’re planning on doing absolutely nothing today, just munching on snacks and sleeping. Maybe you’re going to put on that show you’ve been wanting to see. This is the life, you think.

“FUCK THIS SHIT!”

You’re startled out of your mind, again. Katsuki has been screaming at the top of his lungs since this morning, but you don’t even know the reason why. You hear his stream of curses from the wall between your rooms.

You’re very annoyed: he’s ruining your perfect day off. How dare he. You throw punches on the wall for the upteenth time, hoping he will stop or go outside to do whatever is bugging him.

“Stop fucking doing that!” He screams back at you, and you get even angrier. You decide you had enough, so you get up from your bed and march towards his room. You throw his door open without caring about his privacy.

He snaps his head towards you, scowling worser than usual.

“D’you ever heard about fucking knocking?” He barks at you. He looks disheveled: his usually spiky hair is a mess, and you assume he keeps on yanking it; you can feel his eye bags, and he probably didn’t have a good night of sleep in two weeks.

“Damn, you look bad” you mumble looking at him from head to toe. You lose a bit of your anger and almost feel bad. Almost.

“Well, I don’t care, you’re ruining my perfect day, so if you need to scream go out” you say glaring at him.

“This is my fucking house too” he snarls. “If I want to scream because I don’t want to do this shit, then I’m gonna do it. You’re free to leave and never return” he responds looking you up and down. He’s got a point.

You scoff. Sometimes he really has the audacity to speak when he shouldn’t be speaking. “What are you even doing? What’s this big thing that’s bothering you so much?”.

He grits his teeth and stays silent. The way he doesn’t want you to know the reason why he’s so angry just makes you become more curious. Oh, I’m about to get so annoying when I find out. Just so you wait, Katsuki.

“Come on, don’t be a kid. Let’s make a deal: I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate if you tell me” you try to bribe him. In one of his nicest moments, he complimented the way you know how to “make it just right”, just to take it back immediately after noticing those words left his mouth. Also, your roommate likes to eat and drink hot things even if it’s summer. He’s a weirdo.

He looks conflicted. He really wants a sweet treat, and he knows that he’s not capable of doing it the way you do (he already tried and failed). He blames it on the fact you keep on saying that you add a secret ingredient that he doesn’t know, because there’s just no way he’s not good at doing everything he puts his mind into. He ponders about it for what feels like 3 minutes, where you both stay completely silent.

“I’ll even add whipping cream.”

You try suppressing your grin: he’s sold, you see it in the way he grits his teeth even harder. “I’m revising my thesis’ grammar.”

You instantly become smug, all your anger forgotten. Bingo. “The big buff Bakugou Katsuki is mad about some grammar? Really? I thought you were stronger than that, pussy” you tease him with a smirk on your face.

He tries throwing you one of the books he keeps on his desk, but you dodge it. Then you lean on his door and cross your arms, while he goes on and screams “GET OUT! You’re bothering me even more”.

“Stop screaming, oh my god”, you whine. “What would it take for you to return being the quiet kid at the back of the class? You’re so annoying like this” you say exhausted. You get one day off in 3 weeks, there is no way he’s ruining it. You’re finding joy in annoying him, though, it’s so fun.

“I was never the quiet kid, I ain’t no loser like you. Get the fuck out of my room” he bites back. He doesn’t need to know it, but you were indeed the quiet kid.

“Well, guess I won’t help you then” you reply, shrugging. You didn’t even ask if he wanted your help, and you didn’t come in his room to help him, but now you’re just rubbing in his face that you can go and do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day, while he boils himself away in his despair.

You start closing his door, yawning and teasing him some more. “Continue screaming while I go and watch Love Island without you”. You have to turn around to hide your expression.

You hear him curse under his breath. “Fuck, wait, I really wanna see that”, he says, sounding desperate. “Aren’t you enrolled in literature or some shit?”.

You face him with the biggest devious smile you can muster. “Yeah, why?”

The vein on his forehead is about to pop. “How good are you at correcting grammar?”, he says.

You look like you won the lottery. “Ooooh you want my help? Do you want me to revise your little thesis for you? Little ol’ me? Weren’t you saying to get the fuck out?” You say walking towards his still sitting form. He’s super rigid, like asking you to help him is requiring him all the strength of the world and the planets and the solar system together. He closes his eyes and rubs his temples. He tries the breathing exercises they taught him in highschool to manage his fury, when he really started managing his anger issues. You’re getting on his last nerves, but revising all he wrote in months is also getting on his nerves.

“Can you at least pretend to not enjoy this as much as you currently are? You’re a devil” he spits out. Well, he could’ve said something meaner, so the breathing exercises must have worked a little.

“Mean. I guess you don’t want my help then”, you respond, feigning innocence.

“Let’s make one thing clear: I’m a boss at doing shit like this. I’m just tired of doing it, ‘cause I’ve been at it for a day straight. I’m good at everything, so you’ll probably find a comma that I forgot to type, not much more than that”, he adds, glaring up at you. You’re now standing next to him, but the fact he’s still sitting has you staring at him from above. This simple act is driving him insane: if he’s not in control he gets antsy, and you seem to know it, because you’re standing really proud.

You decide on dropping the facade a little, because you enjoy revising things. And he does look exhausted.

“Sure, send me the file and I’ll look into it” you say. Now you’re going outside of his room to make his chocolate, but he thinks you’re just running away.

“Wait. What do you want in return?” He says squinting at you. There’s no way she’s doing it because she’s nice, he thinks.

You look at him, dumbfounded. “Huh?”

“Don’t fucking “huh” me. What do you want? Why are you doing this?” He responds, serious.

You raise one eyebrow and stay silent for a bit, then you tell him “Because I’m nice? Have you ever heard about kindness? Not everything is a transaction, business man” then you close his door without waiting for an answer, leaving him confused and somewhat angry.

You start doing his hot chocolate while singing to yourself, when suddenly his door is thrown open and he exits it, staring at you.

“Tell me what you want” he says coming closer to you and crossing his arms. It sounds more like a statement than a question.

You look at him and respond “Tell me what you neeeed”, singing.

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“High School Musical? That one scene in the second film where they all sing in the kitchen? Really?” You ask, and he looks confused.

“I’ve never seen those films. They look pathetic.” He responds, rolling his eyes and looking at you putting whipping cream on his hot chocolate. You look shocked, and you hang your mouth open.

“You’ve never seen High School Musical?!” You almost scream.

He winces, rubs his ears and then proceeds to say “What’s so weird about it? It’s not like it’s a cult or something”.

“Yes! Yes it is! You know what? We’re going to watch it right now. And you can’t refuse, or I won’t revise your thesis” you tell him while poking him in the chest. Soft.

He kisses his teeth, huffs and goes to sit himself on the couch.

“I knew you weren’t doing it for free, manipulator” he glares at you.

You shrug, while putting his cup in front of him and bringing him some cookies. He mumbles a thanks, relaxing.

“I was going to help you regardless, but if I can make you suffer it’s funnier” you tell him, positioning yourself next to him and stealing one of the biscuits you brought for him.

“You’re such a bitch.”

“A bitch who’s going to do your work, so shut up and watch people fall in love in highschool” you bite back. You both roll your eyes.

Neither to say, he hates the movies with a passion. He thinks that high school is portrayed poorly, that Gabriella is the real villain, that they’re all pretentious bitches, that Troy should’ve went away because none of them were truly his friends since they weren’t supporting him.

You keep on huffing while he tells you all these “that”s.

“Katsuki, it’s not like it’s reality. It’s a musical. Just focus on the songs and the love, damn” you whine while throwing a punch at his bicep. He doesn’t budge and your hand hurts.

“That’s not my definition of love” he simply states.

“Yeah? And what’s your definition of love?” You ask him, curious.

He raises one of his eyebrows. “Why would I share something like that with you?”.

“Because I’m doing your work. And we’re friends. Sort of. And you like my chocolate” you respond, while blushing a little. You know you tend to be a little too curious and nosey, but it’s just because you pay a lot of attention to details. Details are everything to you. You’re quick to backtrack seeing his hostile behaviour towards this topic, and you start saying that it’s not a big deal and you should’ve minded your business, when he interrupts you.

“And what is your definition of love?”

He looks relaxed, like asking this isn’t that bothersome. Like he wants you to know you too. Like he cares, in some way.

“Love is a lot of things for me” you resort to say. Just how much can you be specific without scaring him away?

“Yeah, you’re waiting for me to talk about it first. I get it, dumbass. I’m not very good with words on this aspect though, so I’m sorry, but your curiosity won’t be quelled” he responds, rolling his eyes. From the start of this conversation he hasn’t stopped breathing normally, almost as if this is a regular conversation for him. He hasn’t stopped looking at you, too, but you’re trying to ignore that.

“Then let’s make a deal. Saturday we’re picking a thing that we think helps us explain what we think about love” you burst out. He’s about to protest, but you’re not finished.

“Love as in general love! Love can be outside of romantic relationships too, so let’s settle on love between friends! I’d never go out with you like that” you add. You jump out of the couch. You feel like you might catch on fire if you stay near him one more second. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you like you’re something he wants to dissect.

“Okay” he simply responds. You’re dumbfounded.

“Really? You’re okay with this? I thought you were going to say no” You say.

“Yeah, but let’s say that we can both decide on either going out or staying in. This is not a date, you said it yourself, so I don’t see a problem with it. It will just be like one of our movie nights, it’s not like we never spend time together, dumbass” he says, getting up and stretching his hand towards you.

“So? Are you in? Or are you scared of doing something much less meaningful than me?” He tells you, smirking.

You glare at him and compose yourself. Then, you stretch his hand.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

Taglist:

@perfectsukii @sleepykittycx @what-the-jams @bakunianadecorazon @vensunzy @eyesforbkg @bffrrufr @imas1mpp @cold-deep-water @peonies-and-teacakes @berryvioo

I couldn’t tag the ones in pink :(

[bbyquokka]

oh god

pairing: kim seungmin x gender-neutral reader

genre: fluff (if you squint a lil), smut – MDNI

synopsis: you're seungmin's first

warnings: smut, established relationship, virgin seungmin, oral (m rec), protected sex, pet names, some nipple play

words: 2.8k ~ (2,899)

♡ m.list — ♡ you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

he wants to wait, wait for the right person and for when the time is right. everyone around him, his friends, mutuals, acquaintances, everyone he knew was out doing it and to him, he didn't see the point.

the point being, why give away something that's precious to a complete stranger. someone you don't plan on having a future with. nowadays, sex is seen as a competition instead of something that's valuable. 

men cheer on their mates when they learn each others body counts, calling their dicks big and praising them whilst comparing and contrasting their past sexual partners, telling each other every explicate detail down to the T.

seungmin just isnt like that. the amount of times he has heard about another woman's breasts and nipples is beyond him. it puts him off sex even more.

he didn't really care about sex because he has seen and heard about it so many times that's he's become desensitized to it, but he is human after all. he has needs and sometimes, a lonely night with nothing but lube, his hand and a cheesy over the top porn video isn't cutting it for him any more.

then you came along. he didn't think it was possible to get an erection just from looking at someone but as soon as he saw your beauty, his cock twitched in an instant. 

it started of slow. seungmin wanted and needed that emotional connection with you first before going any further with you. you spoke on the regular, facetime, text messages, sending each other silly memes and videos, the usual's one would say.

it wasn't until seungmin caught himself blushing and giggling at a simple text of “hi! i miss you, min! hope you're ok. 🥺🖤” did he realise that maybe, he liked you a lot more than he thought.

his heart thumped against his chest every time you touched him or looked at him. your beautiful smile and sweet voice causing his mind to go all mushy. if that wasn't enough of a sigh that he was falling for you, he would go home and masturbate for hours on end with you on the mind, your voice ringing in his ears, your face popping up in his mind. body doing all sorts of positions and poses–its almost like you're there.

he'd curse himself for being a virgin. he wanted a bit more experience in that department. scared that you would judge him for being inexperienced, he kept it a secret even after you both got together. 

it didn't take long for you to notice that seungmin was hiding something from you. every time you tried to initiate something in the bedroom, he would make up an excuse, brush you off with a lie so you confronted him about it.

filled with so much guilt for making you doubt and question yourself as well as the relationship, did he blurt out:

“i'm a virgin!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“yn” seungmin stutters as you kiss his neck. “w-wait.”  you pull away from him, eyebrows furrowed together. 

“everything ok, minnie?” seungmin's chest rising up and down at an uneven pace. his penis already hard just from a few neck kisses and making out with one another. he's sensitive to everything. his skin burning from the areas you have kisses and sucked. every time you drag your fingertips down his skin, it leaves behind a trail of fire.

“y-yeah. it's just, i'm just–” seungmin stutters, cheeks as red as a rose. you smile warmly at him, cupping and stroking his cheeks gently.

“hey, are you nervous?” your voice is sweet and soft. seungmin swallows thickly, nodding slowly. he's so sick with nerves, his body shaking due to the scary amount of pleasure and emotions he is feeling.

you notice his shaky hands as he reaches up to place his hand on top of yours. you remove your hand, holding it instead and stroking the back with the pad of your thumb.

“it's ok to be nervous, minnie.”

“is it though?”

“absolutely! it's new and scary. you're most likely feeling very overwhelmed with pleasure, nerves and anxiety but we take it slow, m'kay? we go at your pace.”

“does it not bother you? that i'm inexperienced.” he mumbles. you let out a soft chuckle, kissing his cheek gently.

“no, it doesn't bother me in the slightest. something like this is precious, it's precious to you so i respect that.”

“but what if i do something you don't like or–or i say something or–” he rambles. you lean in and peck his lips gently to calm him down of his nervous ramblings.

“we communicate. we're a unit, you and i. communication is the most important thing in a relationship, regardless of what type it is.  if i do something to you or say something that makes you think, oh. i don't like this, it feels weird, then tell me.”

“but what if i hurt your feelings..” his voice is nothing but a whisper as he bites his bottom lip.

“my darling. you could never hurt my feelings. i won't know unless you tell me. i'd be more upset not knowing i was doing something to you that you disliked than you being straight and honest with me.”

“ok..” seungmin chews his lips nervously, his hands still trembling against your skin. 

“hey.” you softly say, leaning in so your lips brush against his softly. he whimpers, closing his eyes slowly. “you'll be ok, i promise you.”

you kiss him softly being slow at first. you allow seungmin to slowly melt into the kiss, his lips moulding with yours and finding that perfect tempo. wanting to take the initiative and feeling a little more confident, he gently bites your bottom lip as a silent request for permission to open; to which you oblige.

parting your lips slowly, seungmin slowly slides his tongue past your lips. he whimpers a little at the feel of your tongues meeting in the middle, colliding and tangling together. saliva and breathy pants mix together. 

with shaky hands, seungmin cautiously touches your exposed chest. he gingerly plays with your nipples, flicking and tugging on them gently before rolling them between his fingers. you let out a soft groan, pleasure tingling down to your fingertips and toes.

“fuck baby. keep doing that.” you whisper.

“you like that?”

“yes. it feels good.” you groan as you slide your hand down seungmin's exposed chest and torso to cup his erection through the material of his black boxer shorts. he involuntarily bucks his hips in your hand which causes him to flush pink.

you kiss his cheek, trailing your lips along his jawline to his ear. you lick and suck on his lobe as you palm his erection, rubbing and squeezing his length.

seungmin lets out shaky breathes, his body trembling as pleasure courses through his veins. he feels so good, he's on the verge of tears and all you're doing is palming him. he has yet to feel you. with every minute that passes by, his brain slowly turns to mush. sweat accumulates on his forehead and chest, his toes curling as his hands are now stationary against your chest.

“can i give you oral?” you ask, biting your lip gently. seungmin swallows, the question ringing in his ears and making him feel dizzy.

oh fuck. oh no. god oh god! can you? the person he loves, adores and cherishes the most. the person whom he finds so unbelievably attractive, give him oral?! 

he mind and body screaming at him. he wants to yell “fuck yeah!” at you but instead, he whimpers and gives a small and shy nod. 

you beam at him as you shuffle between his parted legs. he holds his breath as he watches you, watches his many fantasies and dreams come true right before his very eyes.

grabbing the waist band of his boxers shorts, you slowly pull them down his legs and discard them on the floor by the bed. a sudden wave of embarrassment and shyness washes over seungmin, shackling him to the mattress. 

he instinctively covers his private area with his hands, his cheeks and tips of his ears red. you place your hands on top of his gently, removing them slowly as you make eye contact with seungmin. nothing but fear clouds over his pupils as he chews his bottom lip raw. 

“hey, it's ok darling. it's just me.” your voice is so soft, so soothing to him that all the fear and nervousness washes away in an instant. he lets you remove his hands, showing you all he has to offer.

“that's my boy.” you coo as you kiss his hands. he lets them flop to the side as your eyes flicker down to his penis. 

what he lacks in girth, he makes up for in size. his tip red, veins protruding along the sides and traveling to his tip. pre-cum beading and coating his skin making it glisten in the dim light with the occasionally twitch. you also notice how neatly trimmed his pubic area is.

“you have such a pretty cock, min.” you coo, watching seungmin stutter and become flustered. he never thought of his cock (or any cock for that matter) being pretty, he just thought of it as average. but hearing those words come from your mouth makes him so dizzy with lust and heat.

your hand wraps around his base. seungmin watches you with beady eyes, his chest heaving up and down in time with his laboured breaths. he bundles up the sheets in the palm of his hands as he watches you slowly stroke him.

it's slow and languid, something that normally wouldn't get seungmin off. however, it's you. it's your hand around his cock. it's your face that's so dangerously close to it. he makes a mental note of how small you look around him, his brain malfunctioning and failing to do the basic human things.

“fuck..” he mumbles as you slowly pick up the speed. you rotate your wrists at the tip, using your thumb to slowly rub it and smear the pre-cum. seungmin clenches his jaw, his body tingling and vibrating from excitement and pleasure. 

and then it happens. your lips wrapping around his tip. the warmth from your mouth paired with the wetness makes seungmin lose the ability to speak. instead, he whimpers, reaching down and tangling his fingers in your hair as he watches his cock disappearing slowly in your mouth.

you hum around him, closing your eyes as you suck. you swirl your tongue around his tip, making sure your jaw is slack to get more of him. what you fail to reach, you compensate for by stroking him in time with your sucks.

“shit shit shit. fuck–ah!” seungmin pants, tugging and gripping your hair. his head falls to the side, his bangs falling over his half lidded eyes. sweat soaks his body as pleasure and lust swamp him. he wants to cum, he most definitely could cum at any minute but he doesn't want to.

he wants to hold because he wants so much more of you. he wants to feel you, hear you and taste you. he's hungry for you, despite the fact he didn't know it could be possible.

the more time he spends inside your mouth, the more he slowly loses it. his mind is nothing but mush. his body shaking due to the high level of lust and desire. he watches you suck his cock so perfectly. he wants to praise you, to tell you how good you're doing but he can't because if he dares opens his mouth once, he's scared of the sound that'll come out.

and then you swallow. a new, alien feeling shoots up his spine. the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. the tightness of your throat around his cock automatically causing him to let out a long and throaty groan. 

you pull away with a smirk, licking your lips as you look at your fucked out lover. 

“i see you found your voice.” you giggle. 

“good..” seungmin mumbles. you laugh softly, shifting and straddling his lap. he looks up at you through his half lidded eyes. you push back his bangs, watching them automatically part and show more of his sweat coated forehead. 

his pupils blown out with lust, beads of sweat rolling down his temples. his lips parted and dry. he's a beautiful sight to see, a sight you want to see over and over again.

“shall we?” you ask. seungmin nods his head fast, making himself dizzy. you smile warmly at him before grabbing a condom and rolling it on his length.

“are you sure?”

“yes”

“a hundred percent?”

“a million trillion percent. i want this, i'm ready.” you nod, giving the tip of his nose a gentle peck.

you hover over his cock, reaching behind and holding it at the base. seungmin holds your waist as he watches you lower yourself down on his condom clasped penis. 

you groan softly, head kicking back as you feel yourself stretching out. seungmin grips your hips tightly. he thought the warmth from your mouth was good but this warmth is a feeling he cannot describe. it's so alien yet so so good to him, for him. 

the warmth paired with the tightness is too much for his body to bare. he's melting into the mattress, his body uncomfortable hot and sweaty but comfortable high with lust, adrenaline and hormones.

“oh, god..” he says through gritted teeth as he watches you lower yourself down on him. you shakily pant, planting your hands firmly on his stomach to steady yourself.

“how do you feel?”

“strange. weird. but so fucking good. it's so amazing. i'm so.. it's so–” he digs his nails into your skin as you slowly bounce on him. 

“feels good.” you moan. seungmin can't speak, only nod his head as he leans in. he buries his face into the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around your back firmly as you bounce on him at a steady pace.

he doesn't know what to do nor does he know what he is doing. his body is on autopilot, doing what he thinks and feels is best. his teeth sinking into the skin of your neck, lips trailing to your shoulder blade where he bites. 

a string of moans and fucks leave his lips unwillingly. his voice increasing and decreasing. sometimes he is loud, moaning and groaning and not caring about the neighbours. other times, he is soft and whimpering, whispering your name over and over again.

he doesn't know what he is doing, that part is true. he doesn't recognise himself, the pleasure taking over his mind and body to the point where it feels like it isn't him anymore. 

“god yn. so good, you feel so good. oh fuck me, please.” he begs. you hold onto his shoulders to steady yourself as you use your thighs to bounce faster. you kick your head back to expose your neck as you moan his name, seungmin taking full advantage of your exposed neck to kiss, lick and suck the skin.

moans and groans combined into one. seungmin's body shaking as the pit of his stomach burns. it's tight, his balls hurt and his cock twitches inside you.

“yn–”

“m-mhm?” you look at him, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes glossy. he's close to tears as he whimpers.

“hurts. close. fuck.”

“it's–it's ok. listen to your body baby.” 

“what about you?”

“don't worry about me. it's all about you tonight baby.”

sinking his teeth into your shoulder blade, you give one finally bounce and seungmin is a sobbing, whimpering mess. he holds you close to his sweaty body, the heat from you both making you feel lightheaded. his muscles spasm as he empties into the condom, nothing but soft whispers of your name ringing over and over again in your ears.

once calm, you lift yourself up and off seungmin. he takes the condom off, tying it and discarding it in the trash before pinning you down on the mattress by surprise. your eyes widen before you swallow thickly. 

something about him has changed, like a switch has been flipped suddenly. his eyes hold nothing but pure hunger for you, his cock failed to calm down. his body is buzzing and mind mushy. he's not thinking straight anymore, his actions being driven by the pure hunger he is feeling.

“s-seungmin?” you stutter. he licks his lips as he grabs another condom, rolling it on his length before teasing your entrance with his tip by rubbing it. you whimper as you watch him.

“more. i need more of you.” you both groan in unison, your body arching up off the bed as he slowly pushes his length inside. he wastes no time in thrusting. his cock stroking and caressing your insides. you grip onto the sheets, watching seungmin lose control of himself. 

“sorry. i'm so sorry. i can't stop. so hungry. more, i need so much more. please yn, please give it to me.”

you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down to you. he pants heavily against your lips as you smirk and wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close.

“then don't stop. we have all night, so feel free to indulge.”

note: inspiration for this mess 😃 so uh, yeah. idk what else to say because my brain is mush rn. oh! i have also been working on a lil something so keep your eyes peeled for that! don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @septicrebel ; @bbujiikseu ; @cixrosie ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer

[pockwashereart]

Flaming Gavle Goat Ornament Tutorial

You Will Need:

Craft felt in light brown or 'straw' color of choice, red, yellow and orange

Red ribbon in 2 widths

Thread- I used red and yellow; brown, orange or white would give different effects

scissors

Needle for hand sewing

pins or quilter's clips

polyfill stuffing or fabric scraps

a poking implement

a lighter or Fray check glue

paper and pencil

patience / approx 2 hours to waste making a meme for the holidays

To start, I drew a rectangle approx 3.25 in wide by 4 in high and sketched out a geometric goat shape. You could go a bit larger, but if you go much smaller it will be difficult to stuff. Remember that the sewing and stuffing will eat up some of your edges.

Cut out your goat template and trace it on your light brown felt. I used chalk, marker may work depending on how neatly you cut.

(I'll add a nice vectored template to this tutorial later, but I'll have to fight with the scanner first. )

Cut 2 of your goat. It doesn't matter if they're not exactly the same, as you can fudge the edges a little when you sew. If your felt has a front and back you can tell apart, you'll need to pick a "right" side of the fabric and mirror one of the goat base pieces.

I cut my ribbon decorations in advance, wrapping it around the stacked bases to check the length - remember you'll be stuffing this later so you may need to add a tiny bit more to accomodate.

Out of the wider ribbon, you'll need one for each leg, one for the tummy and one for the bridle. The thin ribbon will be to hang the ornament with and to wrap the horns- I did not pre-measure the horn wrapping because I wasn't sure how long it would need to be. Finish the cut edges of the ribbon as you like- I used a lighter to heat seal them but fray check or white glue will work. Glue will be more difficult to sew through.

Start sewing the goat bases together. I used red thread and a basic whip stitch, but you could get a couple different effects by using white or brown thread, or by sewing a blanket stitch.

Here's where I made life difficult for myself- stop when you get to the legs and wrap the ribbon in place, tucking the ends in between the layers. This secures them and hides the edges but is fiddly to pin and sew. You can also wait until you have sewn most of the way around and tack or glue the ribbons on top if you're less fussy about the ends showing.

Continue sewing around the legs and body, catching the ribbons in your stitches and repeating for the bridle ribbon. Stop at the base of the horns so you have room to stuff.

I'm working with modern plastic materials, so sadly (or not) this goat isn't terribly flammable, just meltable. If you want to be eco friendly you can stuff him with scrap fabrics. I'm using polyfill.

Use a chopstick, paintbrush handle or empty mechanical pencil to poke your stuffing into place. Smaller lumps of fluff are better and more maneuverable.

For firmer limbs stuff chopped up bits of your felt into the legs and head and follow it up with the polyfill.

My original plan for the removable flame was to do clever things with magnets, so if you want to give that a try this would be the point to toss one in before you close up the body. I was on a roll and didn't remember until I was working on the horns. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Remember you still need to put the tummy ribbon on and curse your clumsy giant fingers!! Getting everything situated and laying nicely may take a couple attempts. Once you've stabbed yourself with the pins a couple times, sew up the inner curve from the base of the horns on the neck to where the horns meet up again on the butt.

Be careful of where your thread tail goes and the direction of your stitches, it's easy to accidentally loop around the whole body or catch the horns.

There should still be a bitty opening at the base of the horns and at the butt (giggle here), if you flattened your stuffing during the last step and need to poke a teensy bit more in.

Tie your length of hanging ribbon into a loop and set aside.

This is another step where my need to hide the edges made life stupid and fiddly. Tuck the edge of a length of the thin ribbon between the layers on the bottom of the horns and wrap it around, and tack in place with a couple stitches. Loop it a couple of times until you get to the point you want to hang the ornament: I chose dead center, you may want him at a jaunty angle.

Fiddle with bendy felt, slippery ribbon and pins until your hanging ribbon's knot is sandwiched between the 2 layers of the horns and continue wrapping with the loose long piece, securing with pins or clips as needed and hopefully not making a big tangled mess of ribbon.

When you get to the end wrap it around a couple times and cut off any extra length, seal your ribbon and pin or clip into place.

Sew along remaining curves of the horn, making sure not to yank the hanging ribbon out of place and to catch the wrapping ribbon as you go. Accept there's no good way to tuck in this !$@!%%^$ slippery 1/8th BS ribbon and tack the butt end down with a few extra stitches.

Alternately, tack the hanging ribbon in place between the layers, sew the edges and then wrap and secure the horn ribbon with stitches or glue at either end. You could also skip sewing the edges of the horns together before wrapping them, but it will be more sturdy and secure with them sewn.

The fun part! fold some paper in half and draw your flames on the fold. Mine were a little over 2 in tall, and they should be a little smaller than the back of your goat at the base in order to fit in place. Cut out your fire and use it as a template for your felt.

The base layer will need to be on cut on the fold but the rest can be separate. Use as many or as few layers and colors as you like, it doesn't have to match exactly on both sides. You'll be folding this up so that you have 2 decorative sides facing out and a plain inside, so you'll be making two mirrored flames while it's still flat: one pointing up and one pointing down. Sew or glue the layers together.

I used a hidden stitch about a third of the way up from the bottom on the inside of the flame to pinch the sides together and pull it up into a V shape. This can be tucked up into the gap between the body and the horns and will hold itself in place pretty well if you have thick felt.

For more security/ shaping you could sew a loop of craft wire or an opened paperclip to the back side of the flame, or as previously mentioned do clever things with magnets.

Hang him on the tree with or without flames and enjoy!

Options for enjoying your handcrafted goat:

Pin the Flame on the Goat: Hide goat ornament on tree and give your participant (s) the flame (s), first to put them together wins.

Art Imitates Goat: Keep the flames to the side until/ if the real goat burns, and then apply to ornament. Celebrate with hot cocoa or warm winter drink of choice.

Voodoo Goat: Real Gavlebocken hasn't burned yet? Summon the flames by setting your ornament on felt fire! Celebrate with hot cocoa or warm winter drink of choice.

[zairene]

misc. katsuki bakugou boyfriend headcanons <3

warnings: none but fluff + probably light cursing in dialogue bc bakugou has the mouth of a sailor !

author’s note: i kinda wanna write for katsuki more … maybe. + plus i don’t think the last one is exactly a boyfriend headcanon it’s more of a characteristic headcanon but it mentions you so !

absolutely hates PDA (aka public display of affection.) it would probably take a million dollars to convince him to maybe hold your hand in public. it’s not like he’s embarrassed of you or doesn’t like showing you off. actually, it’s the complete opposite. however, the first time he did you could not even explain the absolute ridicule he got from kaminari, kirishima, and sero. they weren’t teasing him in necessarily a bad way, but just know that they have memes and pictures about “lover boy bakugou” in their camera roll waiting to be sent to the class group chat whenever he decides to act out with them. probably why he holds his tongue more around them now.

he cooks to calm his nerves. whenever he’s in a salty mode and doesn’t wanna use his words to handle it, that’s his solution other than probably going to the gym or training. and if he decides to have a tiktok, his for you page is probably full of cooking recipe videos just so he can learn new things to cook for you. and honestly, he’s good at it! whenever you try it, you’ll see a slight smirk on his face when you tell him you like it. “katsuki, oh my gosh—this is super good!” “hah, damn right it is.” (don’t mind the cockiness, it’s who he is. that’s his way of saying thank you.)

now bakugou may be great at a lot of things, whether it be academically or physically. but he is not a social person. now he’s polite to an extent, and polite for bakugou is limited curse words (or none, depending on the age of the person) and a lack of words in his speech. you could be one of the most extroverted people in the world and always drag him to parties or outings, and you’re always having to force him to talk to people because he CANNOT just sit in the corner and sulk the entire time. plus, he tolerates and loves you so he’ll do it just for you to be happy.

bakugou’s daily routine is awfully simple. wake up at 6:00 AM on the dot, cook and eat some breakfast, go to school (when it’s that time of the year) work out / spar with his friends, spend time with you, and sleep. he does nothing else. it’s like autopilot, everything falls in line every day until some type of event ruins it and it puts him completely off every time. it sort of aggravates him, especially when he has to do it and has no choice. bakugou likes his daily routine a certain way and despises it when it changes. every single time he has something to do, it either takes time off of his sleep or time to spend with you (and he likes doing both so it irks him every single time.)

🏷️ TAGLIST :: @jackibrown @romiantic @planetlunaa @mypimpademia @megurulvr @dreampurpledreams @jogeto @laylasbunbunny @jamies-cumslut @edgyficuselastica @goldenglow149 @fiannee @blackweebtrash @thecoloredpages @cosmiles @stqrriichiigo

TAGLIST FORM

[severelystrangewriter]

Text Messages (Flufftober 2023 Day 9)

Pairing: kenma kozume x female reader

WC: 909

Warnings: a little cursing

Summary: a wrong number situation leads you to become friends with kenma

Note: i literally had NO clue what to do for this one, but i think i'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late at night and Kenma was in the middle of a somewhat boring video game when his phone dinged, alerting him of a message. He paused to check, figuring it was Kuroo, but furrowed his brows at the unknown number. He read the message curiously and there was a picture attached.

Unknown: I completed the cosplay! How do I look? :)

Kenma blinked in surprise at the picture you sent. You looked good, really good. You were dressed in a sailor moon cosplay. Your makeup was perfect and your outfit looked like it was taken straight from the anime.

There was only one teensy problem.

He had no clue who the hell you were.

Kenma: the cosplay looks great, but um… do i know u?

Unknown: It’s (Y/n)? Who is this?

Kenma: my name is kenma 

He sent a selfie as proof. 

(Y/n): …

(Y/n): Well that’s embarrassing. I guess I put in the wrong number

Kenma: sorry

He expected the conversation to be over with. But you surprised him when you sent another message.

(Y/n): Weird question, wanna still chat? I’m bored >~<

He blinked twice, then hummed in thought before typing out his reply.

Kenma: i don’t see why not

Over time, texting you became a daily occurrence. You both talked about anything and everything- your lives, your dreams, games, all of it. You sent each other memes and pictures of cats and he found himself looking forward to your messages.

He found out you were a second-year like him, and you went to Karasuno. In fact, you were involved as a manager of the boys’ volleyball team. He told you he was a setter for Nekoma and you thought that was pretty cool, even joking that maybe one day your teams will play against each other.

“Hey, can I borrow your phone? Mine’s dead,” Kuroo said one day before practice.

“Yeah sure,” Kenma handed over his phone and continued playing his nintendo.

Kuroo thanked him and it fell silent as he sent the text to his mom telling him to use Kenma’s phone to get ahold of him. As he waited for a response, Kenma’s phone dinged and a notification popped up that caused Kuroo to furrow his brows.

“Who’s (Y/n)?”

Kenma nearly dropped his nintendo upon hearing your name. With eyes wide, he reached over to snatch the phone back, but Kuroo was too quick and moved away from his friend. He hadn’t told Kuroo about you for the very specific reason of not wanting to be teased.

“Hey she’s pretty cute,” He commented, clicking the picture you sent.

“Give that back!” Kenma shouted.

Not expecting such a visceral reaction out of his friend, Kuroo connected the dots rather quickly, “Oh my god, do you have a secret girlfriend?”

This caught the rest of the team’s attention rather quickly. And they watched as Kenma struggled with Kuroo over the cell. Kenma’s face grew hot at the accusation.

“N-no! It’s not like that!” He vehemently denied.

“Why are you getting so defensive then?” Kuroo asked with a teasing smirk, “You like her~!”

“I never thought I’d see the day when Kenma Kozume has a crush!” Yaku called out.

“Shut up!” Kenma hissed, finally succeeding in taking the phone back.

His cheeks continued to burn when he saw the picture: it was just you showing off your makeup but you looked so cute as always that it made his heart skip a beat.

“Woah dude, your girlfriend’s hot,” Yamamoto commented, looking over his short friend’s shoulder.

“It’s not like that!” Kenma repeated, clutching the phone to his chest to hide it.

“You mean she’s single?” Yamamoto asked with a hopeful tone.

Kenma glared at his teammate, who shrunk away from the harsh look.

“Nevermind.”

Just then, Coach Nekomata was calling for their attention, telling them that the practice was starting.

~~~

(Y/n): ARE YOU GONNA BE AT THE CAMP

Kenma: why are you yelling

(Y/n): BECAUSE I’M EXCTIED

(Y/n): *ECXITED

Kenma: you still spelled it wrong

(Y/n): FUCK

You sent several crying emojis and he smiled at your overdramatic response.

Kenma: to answer your previous question, yeah i’ll be there :)

Kenma: we’re on our way now

(Y/n): YAY

Kenma chuckled and continued to text you.

“Let me guess, your precious (Y/n)?” Kuroo’s teasing voice brought Kenma out of his thoughts as he was nudged lightly by his friend.

Kenma rolled his eyes, but he nodded anyway, “Uh-huh.”

“So when are we going to get to meet her?” Kuroo questioned.

“She’s going to be at the practice game,” Kenma explained quietly, “She’s one of their managers.”

“Really?” Kuroo’s eyes lit up, “You must be excited then.”

Kenma bit his lip and looked out the window to avoid his friend’s gaze. He had to admit that he was pretty excited, but he was also getting nervous. It would be the first time he would be seeing you in person, and the thought was nerve-wracking. Would you guys click like you do through a screen? What would happen if you didn’t? Would you stop talking to him?

Kuroo picked up on Kenma’s growing stress.

“Relax, it’ll be fun,” He ruffled Kenma’s hair affectionately, ultimately putting a stop to all the worrying thoughts.

“Yeah,” Kenma agreed in that soft tone of his.

He continued to gaze out the window, wondering about you. And he wondered if you were thinking about him too.

[bloodsoakedurge]

respond to the following prompts out of character, then tag others you'd like to get to know a little bit better.

roleplayer name: Zombie

roleplayer pronouns: he/him

muse name: Balasar

preferred communication: Discord but I'm also fine with Tumblr IMs. Which reminds me I need to get my Discord to some of you eventually.

experience: 10 years. I actually started in roleplay message-board-esque groups on ROBLOX that were specifically for the Warriors series by Erin Hunter.

preferred roleplay type: I prefer multi-paragraph for roleplay. I can do shorter threads as well, but these don't normally happen too often unless it's crack on the dash or something.

pet peeves & deal breakers: Realistically, I'd say a lot of my pet peeves can also count as deal breakers, but my biggest one is drama and bringing it into the rpc unnecessarily. I am also not ok with people being disrespectful towards others on the platform because I know a lot of hate can be thrown around that way. One more general one for me is that I'm not the biggest fan of "chain mail" that can be sent in the rpc. I've made my stance on this in the past but I always feel like that sort of thing could separate people in the rpc and make people feel they aren't "worthy" of receiving anything while a lot of their other mutuals do. Basically, the tldr: It makes others feel bad, it can lead to people thinking they aren't "good enough" in the rpc as a whole, and I think it's incredibly stupid.

plot or memes: I enjoy doing both. I am all over the place in terms of getting stuff out, but I am always happy to answer memes or plot with others if you want to do something with more detail!

best time to write: Usually when I'm done with classes for the day and in the evenings or afternoons. This can depend on the day because I do DnD with friends on Wednesdays and Thursdays, but I am also in the middle of writing my thesis for my master's degree, so I am incredibly busy in general at the moment. Although, I do take some time to relax and write here to hang out with all of you.

are you like your muse?: Realistically, I do not think I am too much like Balasar. The biggest difference is I am not a bl;ood-thirsty killer who happened to be born out of Bhaal, but I also don't think I am nearly as keen on violence as Balasar may be sometimes. With that said, I do think he inherited my soft heart and my caring nature for friends and family because I play into that side of him quite a bit as y'all may have seen. I like to think that is one of the things that connects us because he is incredibly caring once you get past the surface. Generally, though, there isn't really too many things that are similar between us besides the entire soft-heart thing.

tagged by: I stole it from @relentlessgrief like the cool guy I am :) tagging: STEAL IT, I DARE YOU

[bloodsoakedurge-a]

This should be fairly straightforward for a lot of you. I will likely try to make this nicer later though-

[andiftheycare]

AU where Suguru’s an overworked salaryman and Satoru keeps stealing his umbrellas as a bad attempt at flirting.

Or the you swan he frog meme but make it a fic

☂️ Part one here, and also on twt

☂️ Part two point one below (because it’s now too long and I haven’t even covered everything I wanted to cover in part two)

Highly unedited as I’m writing this as I go and using no braincells.

Tags to be aware of: AU, squint and it’s a reincarnation au (more on this in part 2.2 and 3)

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

Over the weekend, Mimiko picks up a talisman at the local temple to protect Geto from evil.

Nanako laughs at her. She’s been in a perpetual state of amusement since Suguru briefly mentioned the thief to them, “Isn’t this too much?”

“Well, we don’t know what Geto’s dealing with,” she’s just partially offended.

“It isn’t a ghost, sis.”

“You don’t know that.”

Their quarrelling is soothing and familiar, and Suguru huffs while he ties the omamori to the umbrella, which now sports a blessing and a curse sitting next to each other.

He wonders if one will override the other. A cursed object protects the same way as a talisman, after all — its energy is just stems from a different source.

At least that’s what his grandma used to say. Mimiko beams at him when she notices the new decoration embellishing Geto's umbrella, and Nanako comes back to put a star sticker next to the printed curse “Just to make it more obvious.”

On Monday, it’s raining and raining, and Suguru finds that his new umbrella is indeed an old one. Or rather, he notices it because he has no memory of walking home under it the previous week.

It just bends on one side, so his left shoulder’s uncovered, but that’s fine, really. Hopefully it’ll make it less appealing to whoever can’t be bothered to leave him alone.

“Whoa,”

Turning isn’t the best idea he’s ever had. In a scale from one to dropping out of high school — which he almost did when he was eighteen and had a peculiar, stubborn way to see his future — he’d put this executive decision just below almost not getting a degree.

Piercing blue eyes find him instinctively and immediately. “I don’t want to turn into a frog.”

“Then leave my umbrella alone.”

A client enters the konbini. Gojo and Geto briefly acknowledge them — there’s music, there’s someone clearning their throat and there’s two set of eyes moving to see this guy trying to reach the rack.

Neither of them moves.

“You could’ve, I don’t know, picked something more terrifying.”

“Because you think being turned into a frog isn’t?”

“I don’t know,” Gojo latches his hands behind his head, “There are worst faiths.”

There were. Suguru once possessed a wicked fantasy for horrible scenarios. Now his brain just produces white noises. “Like what, spending your life simmering in regrets?”

“Yikes, that’s just being a loser.”

There’s another hesitant “Sorry, I need to—" that goes to the wind and birds and gods listening to men, but not to those two.

“Then you don’t need to be cursed, do you?”

“What do you mean?” He says, slowly, but Satoru knows exactly what he means, because he winces, and his stand wavers. “You don’t know me.”

True. He doesn’t.

However.

There’s familiarity in their bickering, a warmth in Suguru’s tongue when he speaks back to him, declining his language into its informal structures rather that the safe politeness that should shield them from getting close too quickly. “You sound lame.”

Gojo Satoru is six feet tall and he pouts. What the fuck.

“I could sound lamer.”

Suguru blinks. Okay, maybe Gojo's right, maybe his instincts are all pointing in the wrong direction here. He doesn’t know him. “That wasn’t a challenge.”

“See? That’s the problem there. You don’t know I like to win.”

The konbini’s client signs and leaves the umbrella on a corner, next to the coffee machine. As an extra in those people’s life, he understands his role and he’s there, after all, just to buy dinner.

“But why would you want to—“ Suguru cuts off. “No, actually, I don’t want to know.”

The other grins widely, “For instance, I could say,” he looks around, then dips his head closer to Suguru “Take me to dinner. That's a great way to get to know me better.”

Before Suguru could even process that, Satoru takes a step back, beaming as if nothing in the world matters to him but the sound of his own voice. “See? That’s already lamer.”

“Please don’t ever ask me out again,” Suguru begrudgingly takes his umbrella, which wasn’t stolen so maybe the amulet is working.

Of course, that’s wishful thinking.

The day after, the umbrella is gone and the omamori’s left lying on the ground like a sad autumn leaf. Suguru picks it up with care, huffing, putting it in his jacket’s inside pocket so for it not to get wet in his walk back to the office.

During the night, when all the buildings surrounding him are pitch black, and his screen’s light scorches his eyes, Suguru briefly thinks about ordering online a small umbrella to keep in his drawers.

Sipping on coffee, he ponders about it, and then the thought is gone as the numbers in his spreadsheet finally makes sense.

“Christ, why are you here?”

At that point, there’s little that fazes him. Gojo leans on the ice-cream fridge wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night. His suit — black, corporate abiding — is utterly wrinkled, and the man looks, for once, tired.

“I could ask you the same question.”

The other raises his shoulder. “I’m having dinner.”

“It’s past one in the morning.”

“Eh,” Gojo inspects the selection of ice creams in silence, and Geto doesn’t know what to do with this man’s silence.

Granted, they met twice, so he shouldn’t be bothered by it; shouldn’t be reading the lines of his face as if they share enough of a past for Suguru to pretend he can interpret Gojo’s spirits.

Weirdly, his stomach churns. It must be because he had barely eaten dinner too.

“You’re not having ice cream. It’s not a meal.”

“I am,” Gojo replies, unbothered.

“But why?”

At that, white hairs pops up and black lenses are directed in his direction.

“Won’t you feel like crap tomorrow? And you’d be hungry in what, twenty minutes?”

“I’ll just have another one.”

Suguru inhales. Why does he care, anyway?

“You should go home,” Gojo offers instead, fingers reaching to open the fridge. They’re long, Suguru thinks distractedly.

“You know there aren’t any trains.” Suguru says, “Besides, at this point it wouldn’t make sense. The journey’s too long.”

“So what, you’re sleeping in the office?”

A question he doesn’t want to answer. “By the looks of it, you are, too.”

“I live close by.” he doesn’t deny it, thought, which is telling. “You can crash at my place if you want.”

“I’m not—-"

Fetching for a triple chocolate diabetic threat, Gojo adds quickly “I’ll be out all night anyway so I’m not fishing for a hook up.”

A part of Suguru deflates, a bitter taste similiar to disappointment weighting his tongue.

If Geto cared about things being proper, he would’ve declined Gojo’s offer. But Geto adopted two children when he was in high school and moved all of them to a shitty flat in Tokyo as soon as he cashed his first pay check, so proper often doesn’t agree with him.

Also, he’d rather not sleep in a karaoke room that night. Or in the office.

“Yeah,” Suguru steps closer to him, closes the fridge. “I presume you’d like me to buy you dinner first, for that.”

There are few blinks, and a car crash happening slowly in Gojo’s features. He thinks that’s lamer than anything the man could’ve said or done. But he doesn’t want Gojo to know he’s somehow winning at his own self-inflicted competition, so he walks towards the drinks aisle “I’ll buy you a beer as a thank you.”

“I don’t drink!” Gojo sputtered “Give me your Line contact instead.”

“I’d rather not sleep at your place then.”

“I’ll delete it if you ask me to.” He’s eager, this man. He could and should look pathetic, truly, with those ridiculous square glasses and his all-over-the-place suit, but he isn’t. Which makes Suguru go oh, maybe he looks like this when he’s begging.

“And you could need stuff at my place. Towels and all of that.” He does a weird hand gesture that makes Suguru wonder if Gojo knows what you need to spend a night in an apartment that's not yours.

“All of that?”

“Buy yourself a toothbrush while you’re here.” Satoru continues, “but yeah, what if you need a special conditioner for your hair?”

“You use conditioner?”

Gojo scoffs, “You don’t?”

Instinctively, Suguru’s hand flies to his bun. “Should I?"

“Unfair.” Gojo hisses, completely hollowing his cheeks as he sucks on chocolate like he’s trying to hoover the dessert with his mouth.

Shades slide on his nose at the sound of Suguru’s laugh.

☂️☂️☂️☂️

A brief walk of fifteen minutes it’s all it takes to move form the jungle of office skyscrapers to one of high end flats.

Figures, the man’s dirty rich. Geto double checks the address when he arrives at the building with the floating pool.

There’s a flash of Gojo’s cocksure grin in his head. Yes. This adds up.

So Geto goes through the motions of getting in the elevator and finding Gojo’s flat, an open loft with high windows and immaculate forniture. Little attention goes to inspecting his surroundings as Geto hunts for a bed.

Code’s 241218. You’ll find fresh clothes in my wardrobe and you can use all products in the bathroom. There’s one in my room and a bigger one in the corridor. Any issues give me a call.

The space’s so neatly organised, however, that Gojo’s instructions end up being clear as a bell. He changes clothes and brush his teeth and he’s dramatically asleep few minutes afterwards.

☂️☂️☂️☂️

He sleeps until the morning and misses his first alarm, the one he set to catch the first train back home, grab a fresh suit and wish Nanako and Mimiko a good day.

Fuck.

It takes him a few seconds to match the white ceiling in front of him with his surroundings, Gojo’s voice a lingering memory in his head.

A warm blanket of sunlight bathes his body and, at seven in the morning, for the first time since Suguru has started working, the pleasure of a rush free morning sinks into his bones, and cracks something in his chest.

If Gojo was there, he’d kiss him.

He isn’t, so that’s fine.

Can I borrow one of your suits?

Suguru texts Gojo as he turns on the rice cooker, a techy model with a vast selection of settings that looks almost unused.

Suit yourself

You’re not as funny as you think you are

You’re wrong. I think you giggles and blushes reading my texts

I don’t giggle

Yet

While the rice cooker steams in a corner, Suguru inspects the content of the fridge and finds some eggs, a package of puddings and a sad looking carrot. That’ll have to do. Mirin, soy sauce and dashi powder are easy to find, and he can indulge in cutting the carrot to mix it with the eggs.

He cares little about being in someone’s else home. Maybe it’s because that flat is a liminal space resembling a showroom, rather than a real house. Suguru doesn’t investigate his surroundings — he values privacy — but he’s cognisant of how him cooking in Gojo’s kitchen blurs the lines of their acquaintanceship.

The eggs sizzles on a pan, and the door of the flat opens with a clicking sound.

“And who are you?”

Geto turns to the voice. There’s a boy standing there with a plastic bags in his hands and an annoyed, stony face. He doesn’t look a bit like Gojo, if only for being in his early twenties.

“I’m…”

The boy takes a picture of him, and quickly types on his phone with one thumb.

Suguru blinks. “What are you doing?”

“Google-lensing you.” The boy looks up, skeptical. Eyes are down to the screen again. A text pops up in Suguru’s phone.

Megumi doesn’t bite.

Bur looks like he could. Megumi scowls. “Why were you involved in an arson case?”

Suguru smiles politely, summoning some of his charms. “Would you like some breakfast?”

[slashthrashandcrash]

These are all my baby legion ideas. Enjoy!

- Baby!Frank clinging to Danny's leg to stop him from going to trial

-Baby!Frank realising Danny is in a trial and raising absolute he'll. Danny gets back and it's basically the guy returning with pizza to everything going wrong meme

-Danny refusing to pick up a baby legion member, and they just grab one of the ribbons and climb him

-Child Legion. Like 8/9 years old. Same lack of filter/ restraint just slightly stronger and smarter

-Huntress cuddling baby Susie and Julie. I just think that would be adorable.

-Amanda and baby legion, we haven't seen any of that

-Baby blighted legion

-Survivors first reaction to a trial with baby Legion. Just like 'I haven't seen the killer yet' then a toddler runs out a bush and stabs them in the knee

-How to baby Legion actually annoy the other killers. Are they stealing things? Climbing them? (As someone with very tall relatives and lots of cousins, small children do see tall people and think 'I'm gonna climb that) Do they just not leave them alone?

ADORABLE! PRECIOUS! I WILL MOST CERTAINLY USE THESE FOR DRAWING IDEAS IN THE FUTURE!

The trials are the only time Danny gets some peace and quiet away from these brats, he's shaking Frank off and booking it through the fog

That is also the immediate aftermath when Danny returns from the aforementioned trial. Usually Frank is pretty good if he's distracted with someone else but the fact that he knows Danny isn't around is what makes him upset (attachment/abandonment issues)

What are dads if not jungle gyms? He's standing - kid on his leg. He's walking - kid holding his hand. He's sitting - kid in his lap. He's laying down - smothered in kids on top of him.

Fucking RIP to killers and survivors and even the Entity who would have to put up with child!Legion bc they are the absolute worse hellions. Joey and Susie are okay if they don't have the other two's bad influence but as a group it's awful. People literally pick Freddy over them.

Danny will happily offer her the boys too if she wants. Free of charge. Please. Take them--

Amanda is the aunt that doesn't give a fuck but is still surprisingly good with kids, mainly bc she keeps them busy with non-lethal thingamajigs she makes (also helps that the reverse beartrap is too small for baby heads bc Julie has tried to wear it before)

Absolutely cursed. Added to my WIP list.

Survivors are very confused, then greatly amused, then on the ground clutching their freshly stabbed thigh. They might even think they have the upper hand for a second until Ghostface appears behind them and tells them to put his fucking kids down if they like their organs as they're currently arranged.

All depends on the killer for what the kiddos want and how much they can get away with it before they're actually in danger. Some are more bully-able than others, some will actually try to turn the toddlers into a meat paste against the wall. Mainly they just like messing around with their personal things to play with.

[avalon-of-babylon]

Batman: The Capped Crusader literally introduced my 4 favorite batkids in the same episode and made them all literally adoptable.

Realistically, I know in the next season, Bruce isn't gonna pop down to the orphanage and grab himself a Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Carrie Kelley AND Stephanie Brown (just two of them at the same time would fucking kill him) but also now I want a batman to have to contend with his 4 most feral children. And they are the most feral of them all.

Also before I begin can I just say I fucking love Jason and Carrie being the sameish age. For years, I have been convinced that if Carrie was in a mainstream universe, she should be Jason's age and that the two of them would be so close they'd basically be twins and this right here is so close it almost feels like vindication.

Now for why these 4 are the most feral batkids and why Bruce having to put up will all of them as Robin at the same time would fucking kill the man.

Richard "Dick" Grayson:

The man may be a genuine himbo but he is also the son of circus performers, so for as much light as there is in his soul there is also a gay wolf telling him to do backflips when he's bored, make puns at every opportunity, touch everything and generally be the most adorable menace you've ever met. Also, Discowing definitely counts as feral behavior.

Jason Peter Todd:

In this universe, Jason was probably put into the system after his stepmom ODed so chances are this isn't a steal-the-wheels-off-the-batmobile kinda Jason but could definitely still be a sneaks-out-of-the-house-to-hang-out-with-Catwoman-and-co or is babysat by prostitutes kind of Jason. (I know for a fact that last one literally happened at least once) Even if you take out the violence and crime, you can not convince me that this Jason is not the kind of kid who wouldn't constantly be getting into trouble because he's always trying to prove himself and eventually have a tragic dead at the hands of the Joker that when he's brought back leaves him jaded, angry and the beautiful problem child we all know and thirst after. Also, he's the only member of the family Alfred allows into the kitchen, so jot that down while you're at it.

Carrie Kelley:

My girl was created by the living curse that is Frank Miller that alone makes her feral. But if you don't know my girl Carrie in the Millerverse got saved from a mugger by batman and imitately decided "fuck pants and my drug addict hippie parents it's time to fight crime in green booty short with a fucking slingshot", was almost imitately begrudgingly taken in by batman, probably dropped out of school, fought a Joker who had suicide bomber child-sized android baby dolls and helped lead a literal underground war on crime with a pseudo-cult of batman themed vigilantes called the Sons of Batman formed by former gang members who became obsessed with the guy after he beat up their former leader a no-neck nipple studded punk humanculous who looks even worse than I'm describing. Every iteration of Carrie Kelley is forged from the mold of a girl who almost reached Logan living with wolves levels of feral behavior, she is insane and I love her.

Stephanie Brown:

Her father is literally bargain bin Riddler because he lost his job as a game show host and she got fucking refrigeratored by Black Mask only 2 months into being robin, she deserves to be a little feral. Every iteration of Steph is one with a right to live life to the fullest weither that means giving Bruce shit over his terrible parenting, memeing on c-list villians like kiteman or just hanging around being a menace this girl is feral. Good for her, good for her.

In summary, Batman: The Caped Crusader should end with Bruce's kids literally killing him off with stress, lmao. Also, the setting is perfect for making Dick Discowing, so DC take notes.

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

tumblr.com/emdeerm insert-that-spiderman-meme

based on this prompt and the amazing fanfic "Wait I'm a Cartoon Over Here?!"

Ahem Damian flopped onto his bed, exhausted after having had to clean the bat litter once more, as per Alfred's instruction. However, that exhaustion was punctuated by an underlying satisfaction. Despite everything, he and Richard had succeeded. They made contact with Team Phantom (part of him felt dizzy and giddy at the notion, but he'd impale anyone who'd suggest it) and managed to keep Father and the others from combusting at the notion of their existence. Phantom had sworn up and down to never expose their identities, knowing just how important they are. ("You were my hero since I was 7, I'd rather eat Dash's underwear again than betray your trust!") If only he knew...

Speaking of whom, Damian clamped his hands of his ears as the girlish squealing in this room entered a fever pitch. He was starting to regret allowing Kent to enter the Manor while team Phantom were visiting.

"DANNY DANNY DANNY DANNY DANNY I'M SUCH A HUGE FAN OF YOU CAN YOU PLEASE SIGN THIS AND THIS AND THIS AND-" Damian could've sworn that's the spiel Jonathan had opened with about twenty minutes ago. Fenton, for his part, was doing his best to withstand the onslaught of super-powered pre-teen fandom.

He'd never be caught dead doing something so... debased. So petty and pointless as to gawk at a fictional character. He, the blood son of the Bat and his future successor.

"Come on Damian, aren't you excited too?" His heart rate spiked. Blast. How quickly could he break into Father's kryptonite vault...

"You sure you wanna mess him with right now? He really looks like he could kill you, and I read the issue where he tried to murder Tim."

Damian prickled, even felt a hint of shame knowing that Fenton knew just as much about him as he did, how shameful. No not shameful at all, why would he care about someone who probably wasn't even real. Damian moved to sit up and shot Jonathan the deadliest glare he could muster, an expression copy-pasted right off his Father's Batglare.

Jonathan, for his part, cowered behind Fenton. "You'd do well to keep remain silent, Kent, before I remind you that your life is as fragile as a dying rat." He all but spat out. However, instead of cowering further, Jonathan's lips curled into a devious expression.

Fenton's head bounced between the two. "Maybe this personal arc hasn't been published yet..." He muttered.

"Hey Danny..." Jonathan began, hesitantly. This could not be happening. Damian grabbed the nearest katana and lunged. However, his efforts were made fruitless as he passed through the duo like they weren't there. Dammit! "I know this is kind of embarassing, but we put in a lot of work and you're like my number two inspiration after my dad and we don't know how long you'll be here so., but you gotta keep this a total secret, like a total secret, you can't tell anyone."

Jonathan reached into his backpack. Damian swung his sword again. Anything, anything to prevent the inevitable. If this were allowed to happen, his life would be forfeit. Curse his hero this hero for being so overpowered. Where was the lipstick laser when you needed it? Or the fenton thermos? or the anti-creep stick, or anything?!

However, just as Jonathan was about to retrieve the forbidden contraband, a fist flew out and blew him away. "Woah what is this?" Exclaimed one Danielle Phantom. It was at that moment that Damian knew, there was nothing more that could be done.

~~~~~

Danielle rifled through the pages of the comic book that Jon was about to pull out (which, btw, was amazing! Danny might be into Nightwing and Martian Manhunter, but she could not count the number of nights she'd dreamt of flying with the Super Sons. Basically she was never gonna wash that fist again anyway) and was shocked to find the contents. "Yo Danny, have you seen this??"

Her template/brother/cousin/dad (his status is in a weird gray area at the moment) leaned over, eyes widening too.

For within her hands was the latest issue of the celebrated fancomic, the Secret Adventures of Danny Phantom, which circulated around this universe's social media forums and the schoolyards of Metropolis and Gotham. Danielle flipped through pages upon pages of lovingly hand-drawn panels.

"I didn't know we were a comic, too! I've never looked that cool before." Danny said, nothing the cover art.

"I dont think this is official, i mean, whatever official canon means these days. Look, there's no logo from the channel our cartoon's on."

"I can't believe I have fans who know enough about me to make a fancomic." Danny groaned.

"Oh shut up, Danny. you don't see me getting any fanart." Dani teased, until she reached the beautiful two-page spread of her, Robin and Superboy swooping in to save Danny from the GiW. Special attention was placed by the artist on her hair, and the unnatural glow of her ghostly eyes. Overall it was a very flattering picture. the real Dani's jaw dropped.

Danny turned to the gaping Jon, and the limp Damian, both of whose faces were drained of colour, looking even more dead than himself on a cold day. Realisation dawned inside of him. "Wait, did you guys make this?"

His interoogation could not continue furhter before Dani squealed with excitement. She phased out of the bedroom door in an instant before anyone could react, yelling in excitement about this amazing fancomic that Damian and Jon had made, like it was fate... Her voice was followed by one Dick Grayon's comment on Damian's evolving artstyle, before more joined the chorus. As for Damian? He rolled for 60d6 psychic damage, took 300, and lost the wlil to live. Jon was not far behind.