#let me know if you have any other questions!

[quarterlifekitty]

Promethean

fuckboy!Soap x Shy!Reader x Ghost (college!au) p.2 here’s part 1

Uhh warning soap isn’t in this chapter and reader isn’t acting very shy rn lol

Simon managed to drag you, shocked and still on shaky legs, into his surprisingly clean car and across town to a little cafe. The guy with eye bags behind the counter starts making his order as soon as he comes in the door— must be a regular.

At the counter he points to a couple of items in the display case, before prompting you— you stutter out your go-to, and Simon whips out a beat-up debit card before you can think to pull out your wallet.

The largest size of earl grey almost looks normal in his large hand, a plate of pastries in his other mitt. You grab your own drink and follow where he tilts his head in gesture.

When you sit, he pushes the plate towards you. Like he’s dropping a fresh kill at your doorstep—a courting gift. Eat. Be provided for, sensitive doe. You pick up a danish, if only to ease the clench of his fist on the table. He pulls the black surgical mask down to sip his tea in a way that’s almost hilariously delicate given his permanent scowl.

You couldn’t have sat in silence for more than 10 minutes. But it feels like a lot longer.

“Simon. What are we doing here?” You probe quietly. Saying his name when you’ve never actually been introduced to each other feels wrong. Like you’ve stolen a piece of him that he hasn’t given freely.

“He never takes you out,” he grunts. As if that explains anything.

“It’s not… what we have isn’t like that.”

——

Simon chews on your overly diplomatic response for a minute. That’s what it must be, chewing— why else would he grind his teeth together when his tongue is still wet with his favorite soothing beverage?

You’re kind. Kinder than the mutt deserves.

“But you want it to be.” He says it with an almost biblical level of finality. Your pastry making the plate clink against the table as you drop it back down.

“What would you know about what I want?”

“You’re an easy read. S’how y’got yourself in this situation. Soap’s not exactly a rocket scientist when it comes to chattin’ up birds, you’re jus’ an open book.”

Simon shamelessly stares at your lips as they quirk in anger— so unused to vitriol. It’s gorgeous.

“So he’s using me. I know. Is that what this was about? Taking me on a pity date to let me down gently? Or did you just wanna see if you could have a go as well?”

Seeing you like this. It’s something else. He’s seen you mope around so many times, silently begging for crumbs that will never be tossed your way. It’s even harder to pull his gaze from you, now that you’re hissing. He wants to dig his teeth into your heart shoulder and rip out the bruise Johnny left you with.

Soap is his best friend.

“He’s a dickhead. You don’t need him. You’ll find something better.”

Simon has never been what he would call “something better”. Not in any sense. But this might be the first time he’s wanted to be.

“I won’t,” you say with the lower half of your face hidden by the sipping of your drink. As if it’s quenched your fire, and all that leaves you is vapor. “I’m not… the type.”

He gets it. Really, he does. He’s not the type either— or so he’s thought. You’re making him wonder if he’s imagined that about himself— the same way you’ve clearly imagined it about yourself.

“What’s the rest of your day look like?”

“…Nothing set in stone.” The not that it’s any of your fucking business goes unspoken, but is plain to see in the air between you.

“Lemme take you around. On a date. Be mine for today. If y’hate it, I’ll drop you back at yours and the next time you come round, I’ll mind my business and keep the door closed.” Well, that’s the most you’ve ever heard him say in one go. And it begs a question.

“What happens if I like it? You’ll fuck me in a different room of the same frat house?” Your unimpressed look makes him feel ravenous. She-wolf is threatening to turn her eyes from the display. Rejection. Not an option. “Or maybe you’ll ask me to go steady,” you huff under your breath like it’s a bad joke.

“If y’like it, then you’ll stay mine, and y’won’t fuckin’ want for anything. You’re supposed to be worshipped, not begging for scraps at a mutt’s door.”

He really didn’t mean to say it like that. He meant to bite his tongue. He’s trying not to think of how hot it would be if his intensity scared you into pissing yourself. He’s trying not to let himself show through the lines. It’s not working. Any of it.

The venomous bile that spills from behind his teeth reminds him that his eloquence is just one of many reasons why he’s single. Why he should be muzzled instead of kept. He doesn’t know why he’s taking it upon himself to do this. Selfishness, maybe. There’s plenty of better men he could’ve put up to the task, easy. The man who wants to feel blood on the back of his throat makes a terrible savior.

He feels like he can see your pupils dilate. You pick up your danish again and take a bite. You hold it out for him to try. It’s a test. You don’t think someone with eyes like his can handle doing cutesy, saccharine things. Like what couples do. That must be it.

He tries not to think of his teeth going past the flakey flesh of the pastry and sinking into your fingers. When his tongue meets the butter between the layers, he tries not to think of the salt sweet flavor of your sweat and tears. A seed from the blackberry jam gets thoughtlessly crushed between his molars— he hopes the bitterness will suddenly wake him up and he won’t be a beast crying for love at the heart of the world anymore.

It doesn’t.

[scartale-an-undertale-au]

So... I see this a decade after i decided to simply... Stop instigating conversations because i felt like im simply burdening others with my presence and that they actually felt annoyed having to hear from me and wished i wouldnt send messages.

The thing is that none of them ever approached me afterwards. When we saw each other after a while we would be ecstatic but there was a wall between us already and i dont know if its simply life going on and us being very different than back then, or that they truly didnt see me the same as i saw them (as my besties).

One time i met one of them (this one specifically was my best friend from first grade until twelve basically) on the street and i see that she's married and walking with her husband. Turns out the wedding was that sunday and i wasnt even notified of it happening or of the engagement. I wasnt mad about not being invited, but i was hurt for not even being notified! She then turned to her husband and said that im a friend of her from high school.

Its been a decade from high school so i can see why she said that, but that hurt me so badly that the moment i waved them goodbye and they disappeared around a corner, i collapsed and just sobbed. I was so heartbroken. It seemed that i was the only one who still thought of her as my old school's bestie or had thought of including her in any future milestones simply because she was so important to me.

So i dont know how i feel about this post. I understand where you guys are coming from and its in good intentions, but the main issue is that many kids who become the sole instigators were never shown that they can be vulnerable in front of their friends about this matter. It felt like its your duty and how you contribute to the group. And when it became harder and harder, the friends never questioned why you pulled away or asked for your wellbeing. It turned into a situation when you feel more like a nuisance than a leader.

Fortunately, i have now friends who instigate so much more than me and i keep telling them how i appreciate it and apologise for how terrible i am at texting back and that its never because i dont want them to text me. Its simply because texting or answering messages had become so hard for me and so mentally taxing i sometimes shut down when i see messages i need to reply to.

So rambling aside, as much as i appreciate your sentiment, i think a different approach would be helpful.

My approach (which is not better or worse, just a different approach) is to get comfortable with a 'friends for one day' reality. I go so many times to so many places and meet so many amazing people, we always say we'll contact one another and keep in touch and then never contact one another again, and that's alright.

You have to be comfortable with being friends without focusing on the 'keeping the friendship going' let people come and go. Those who truly want to stick around will stick around, and they usually have a much deeper connection with you that isnt dependant on who instigates the conversations.

My friends are those that mostly text in memes and reels since we dont see each other often. And i do the same in return. Its easier and relays so much more. We have proper conversations here and there, but our actual interactions happen physically. And they instigate meetups much more than i do and i always make sure that they know that i appreciate it. One of my friends and i also have some differences in opinions, so we have some long discussions.

I also have a friend who i dont text to at all but invites me to shabbat meals once in a while and i come over and its like no time had passed. I invite her back for bbq or shabbat as well, but thats also once in a blue moon.

Another friend is across the ocean so its mostly photos and small comments and talks about our lives and since the war began, she keeps checking if im alive and well.

Another friend is also across the ocean and we mostly speak about our realities of being jews or squeal over her precious daughter or make plans for when she finally comes to Israel.

So my friends arent part of one group but many branches of different aspects of my life. I would say i have around seven/eight of them that arent my current co workers (work friendship is also temporary and i accept that fully and enjoy our time together) and im truly blessed because i had let go of the desperate need to keep my friends together.

So please dont call us a bitch for not willing to talk about it. And we're certainly not mini community leaders, we're just people who are friends with those that never cared about reaching out first or affirming our friendship in any kind of way. Its not fair to put the expectations of reaching out onto the one who constantly did that. Friends who truly want to keep up a friendship will attempt to do so when they see that the other side isnt as present as previously.

Sorry im all over the place, im on my phone and its harder to articulate on it

every now and then the internet decides it should revamp the ole “stop texting first and see how many friends you lose” when in reality you could literally just communicate that u feel bad that ur the only one texting first

[misseverandever]

I CAN READ THIS, AND I WILL! LET’S GOOOOOOO!

omg was not on my 2024 bingo that I’m actually gonna read Melinda’s set for Anya

FRIST CARD: FOUR OF CUPS (the past)

that’s symbolizes Anya past implicating on her present, the cart indicates a need to experiences something new that brings joy and fills this empty space, something we see in our little girl eyes and i’m happy to see she’s doing good cuz in the past she certainly was a person that spends their days with their head down.

SECOND CARD: DEATH (the present)

The upright Death tarot card symbolizes transformation and the beginning of something new. It represents closing a chapter, leaving past experiences behind, we can think about Anya maturing and liberating from the trauma! Well in relationship (anya question) suggests the relationship may be stuck in a stagnant or unproductive dynamic, what we definitely can see, she tell his mother that he bullies her

THIRD CARD: THREE OF SWORDS (hidden influences)

The unseen problem huh? There’s a lot of them, well Donovan, Twilight, Operation Stixs… etc etc….

Whenever this card appears in a reading, it indicates conflict, disappointment, and misunderstanding (Well that’s definitely is the case), maybe Damian is definitely gonna be sad about why her approach to him, we know this is real cuz Damian already say before about people approaching him just because he is a Desmond and we know Anya have the same goal, but no worries is gonna be difficult but it can be resolved (they need to talk about this) !!!!

FORTH CARD: THE STAR (ANYA)

The Star in the upright position symbolizes hope, inspiration, and peace for the future. BUT is in the reversed position, so Anya reflects the feelings of hopelessness, confusion, and doubt as her navigate life's challenges and question circumstances. We see Melinda like that, and surprisingly Anya feel empty for her!

(So cute Anya being the star)

FIFTY CARD: TEN OF PENTACLES (the influence of others)

What kinds of external influences are dominating the situation? Well all of them! This card is important because it influences how others close to the Querent feel about the situation. AND GUESS ITS ALL RIGHT! This is a very positive card, and its positivity indicates that the path of challenges and difficulties has already been traveled, and now is the time to reap what is deserved. INNN THE RELATION WAAAAY (remember Anyas question not just because you know… i’m a shipper) is gonna be an harmony between them, whit a lot of happiness, cuties!

SIXTH CARD: ACE OF CUPS (what Anya have to do)

We see he is receiving, It’s often represents sadness, loss, and frustration, signaling difficulty in connecting. We know Damian is a difficult person, Anya have to deal with his feelings, is an important thing to do cuz if she don’t, they will not be together.

SEVENTH CARD: THREE OF WANDS (final results)

This last card is important because it takes into account all the six previous cards in its response. Here, we have an indicator of what the final resolution to the problem will be.

In this spread, the energy here is one of movement, so Anya cannot (and will not) stay still and she cannot try to handle everything alone.

The card indicates complicity, true love, and a strong connection. Sooo don't worry, as the frendship is real, and they will overcome it together.

SHE KNOWS!

SORRY MY ENGLISH IS KINDA BAD SO CAN YOU GUYS PLEASE FORGIVE ANY ERRORS IN THE TEXT? I was so exited to reed this, if you need tarot read dm me 🫶

[rambling-at-midnight]

When the Truth Comes Out

Request: Reader asks, "So, when are you going to ask me to marry you?" I hope I did your prompt justice!

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: It’s been three and a half years since Jason asked you out, and he knows you’re the one. He knows every part of you, the good and bad, and loves it all. The problem is that you don’t know everything about him… and his secrets may ruin everything.

Word count: 3.5k

Jason’s never been one to window shop, but lately he’s been noticing the glint of jewelry.

You give him a weird look when he stumbles in the middle of the department store. It’s because a ring display caught him off guard like a punch to the gut, but he can’t explain that, so Jason waves off your concerned questioning.

You give him a weird look before turning back to the toy aisle. The two of you spent the morning bickering over what present to give Damian for Christmasukkah. You want to give him a keyboard to learn piano, but Jason’s sure that Damian would be happier receiving an art kit. He knows violin, which is a strings instrument, not whatever the piano is. Besides, the kid’s a brat. He’d want a full-size grand piano that originally belonged to Mozart or some shit and costs a hundred thousand dollars, which isn’t exactly pocket cash for the two of you.

And, sure, Jason’s got one of Bruce’s credit cards in his wallet—Bruce offered to give him one in Jason’s name, but it was the principle of using the stolen card, so Jason turned him down—but he’d be damned before he spoiled the kid any more than he already is.

He keeps his eyes firmly on you after that. It’s where they’re supposed to be, anyway.

You end up getting the keyboard after surreptitiously checking your bank account against your projected budget several times. It’s funny. After three years, you still think you can hide stuff like that from Jason. Probably because he pretends not to notice. He makes a mental note to stop by your landlord’s and see if the Red Hood can make any suggestions about lowering rent for your building.

As the two of you walk out of the store, a cold gust of wind tries to steal your breath away. You step closer to Jason, cold fingers twining with his, and he easily drapes an arm over your shoulders to keep you close. “Was that the last one?”

“I think so,” you reply, checking your list again. “The keyboard for Damian, massage gun for Dick, matching pajamas for Cass and Steph, Pokemon expansion pack for Duke, and the fuzzy socks for Tim.”

The socks are decorated with the words ‘I BREACHED CONTAINMENT’ in black stitching. Jason saw them in a tourist trap he saved from a D-list rogue and remembered how Tim looked like the bog monster after falling into the sewers the day before. They’ve been sitting in his closet since the end of August.

“I have too many siblings,” Jason sighs.

“Have you figured out what you’re giving Bruce?”

Jason bites his lip.

You say, “Ah. Well, you still have a couple days.”

Yeah. Jason has two. He’d been supposed to look out for anything to catch his eye in the store, but all he noticed was the stupid ring display.

He opens the car door for you, then shoves the keyboard in its box into the backseat and starts the engine. Jason drives home one-handed. The other holds yours loosely over the console. You’re checking your bank account again on your phone, frowning slightly, thumb brushing up and down Jason’s palm. He keeps an eye on you as he drives, playing idly by squeezing your fingers one by one until you have to try to hide a smile by looking out the window. 

He doesn’t let go of your third finger. Something nags at the back of his mind, like—

Jason realizes that he’s trying to find a ring, and his heart stops. The car jumps forward when he slams on the gas, and he drops your hand to put both of his on the wheel as he swerves around a minivan. You let out a startled yelp, hands flying out for something to grab onto. The stupid keyboard slides off the back seat and into the footwell.

Two cars lay on their horns when he nearly sideswipes them. Jason responds with an emphatic middle finger and cuts across three lanes to get away. The poor car doesn’t respond as well to his driving as his motorcycle does, and the engine whines as he leaves the other cars in the dust until he eases off.

As soon as the car reaches a relatively normal speed, you say, “Jay! What just happened?”

“Sorry,” is all he can say, keeping both arms stiff on the wheel. “Sorry, honey.”

“You okay?”

“‘M good. You good?”

“I’m okay, I was just…” You keep looking at him, and Jason’s skin prickles. Do you know? Can you tell?

Jason creaks like old wood, but he pulls back his right arm and puts his hand on the console, palm up. After a moment, you put your left overtop it. He can feel your pulse racing through the thin skin of your wrist.

He squeezes.

You squeeze back.

The day before Christmas, Jason still doesn’t know what to give Bruce. He’d hoped that baking would fix the block, but as he abuses the poor sopapilla dough, he’s no further to any answers.

You’re at the counter, offering moral support but not physical help. Jason’s a bit of a control freak in the kitchen when he’s anxious.

He’s not anxious. He’s not! It doesn’t matter if he gives Bruce something for Chrismukkah. Bruce doesn’t even celebrate Christmas. ‘Not trying to kill him’ is probably a good enough present.

Or the sopapillas. Sure, everyone’s bringing a dish, but no one said it couldn’t also be Jason’s present. But if he goes that route, then the pastries have to be perfect, and the last batch didn’t fluff up the way they did when Catherine made them.

“Jay,” you say after another five minutes of Jason punching dough that is already thoroughly kneaded.

“Yes, love?”

“I think the oil might be ready.”

Judging by the hiss and pops behind him, it is, and has been for several minutes.

Jason tries his best to follow his mother’s actions through his memory, but this batch doesn’t turn out right, either.

“Here,” he says wearily, placing the overflowing plate in front of you. “Let ‘em cool off.”

You wait as long as you can, fingers drumming on the counter as you watch tiny curls of steam drift up from the pile of pastries. Finally, you give in. “Oh my gosh,” you say around a mouthful that was a little too hot, judging by your wince. “Jay, these are amazing.”

“It’s not right, though,” he argues.

“Jay, I didn’t even think it was possible, but these are better than your last batch.”

He shakes his head stubbornly.

“Well, we’ll keep working on it,” you decide. “But really, if you bring these tomorrow, no one will complain. If they do…” You hold up a fist and shake it, mustering up (what you think is) a ferocious scowl.

Jason’s lips twitch. “What if Damian complains? Are you prepared to hit a child?”

“I can’t believe you would even ask me that,” you say. “I live in Gotham. I’ve been waiting for that moment my entire life.”

Despite himself, Jason laughs. He picks up one of the pastries from the dish and bites into it. They could have used more honey. Maybe that was the problem. But you’re right. These are good, and if they’re not, so what? It’s not like Bruce expects much from him anyway.

Jason’s chest squeezes.

Bruce should just be grateful that Jason is there at all.

Fuck.

It’s getting too hard to deny. Despite all his best efforts, Jason has to admit… maybe he does love his family.

It’s the first holiday season where he hasn’t been incandescent with rage toward one of them or another, and he’d underestimated just how nervous he would be. Despite everything that happened between them, he wants tomorrow to go well. The first night of Hanukkah is the same day as Christmas this year, which hasn’t happened for about twenty years. It’ll be Damian’s third Chrismukkah and the first where everyone is in attendance—Jason wasn’t on speaking terms with the family his first year, and Bruce was in the time stream and Tim was across the world last year.

“Hey, Jay.”

“Hmm.”

You swallow without making eye contact, and if he was paying even a little bit more attention, he would have known to prepare himself for what you said next.

“When are you gonna ask me to marry you?”

Jason is a selfish asshole. It’s a miracle that you haven’t figured that out yet after three years of dating him. He half-expects to come back to the apartment to find his stuff in bags. That’s the main reason he’s still out in the cold.

He’s in the middle of another drag when a teasing voice says from behind, “Ooh, must have been a rough day.”

Jason’s hand twitches for his gun, but he recognizes the voice. So he only rolls his eyes and says around the cigarette, “What do you want?”

“Your partner asked me to check up on you. Apparently you looked pretty freaked when you took off.”

Fuck. Jason groans. “How worried did they seem?”

“Ummm….”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, you kind of messed up.” Spoiler sits next to him, dangles her legs over the side of the roof, and lets them swing idly. “Or they messed up. I thought you quit smoking?”

He exhales a thick plume of smoke. “I did,” Jason says. Dying from smoke inhalation was bad once, but a habit is a habit.

“If it makes you feel any better, they seemed more concerned about you. Not, like, mad or anything.”

Well, that’s something.

“So what happened?”

Jason grunts. Maybe if he stares into the horizon long enough, Spoiler will give up. That was the technique Batman always used when Robin asked the tough questions like, ‘Why am I going home early so you can interrogate Catwoman on your own?’

It only worked sometimes.

Unfortunately, Spoiler seems immune.

Jason grunts and drops the butt of his cigarette. He itches for another, but you’ll already wrinkle up your nose at the smell of one. And, shit, what are you even going to think about him high-tailing it out after that question, leaving for hours, and coming back stinking of smoke?

“I’m a fucking idiot. And an asshole.”

Spoiler huffs. “Everyone already knows that, dumbass. They certainly do.”

“Thanks,” Jason says drily.

“Anytime!” she chirps.

Her heels beat against the side of the building.

She’s not leaving anytime soon, so Jason sighs and gives in. “They asked when I was planning on proposing.”

Spoiler gasps and jumps to her feet. “Oh my God!”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God!”

“Yep.”

“So you’re engaged?”

“What? No.”

“What?”

“They asked when I would propose. That wasn’t a proposal… I don’t think so. I mean, there wasn’t a ring,” Jason says helplessly.

Spoiler socks him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” Damn, but the girl can pack a punch. He rubs at the sore spot, scowling.

“You stupid idiot!”

“I know.”

“And you just ran away?”

Jason cringes and admits to his lap, “Yes.”

Spoiler hits him in the exact same spot on his shoulder.

“Goddamn it, stop that!”

“I’m going to kill you, Jason Peter Todd.”

“You could certainly try, Stephanie… Brown,” he shoots back.

“You don’t even know my middle name?”

“I don’t care about you.”

She lifts her fist again, but Jason twists out of the way before she can hit him a third time in the same shoulder. It’ll be bruised tomorrow.

“You don’t get it,” he says, balancing on the edge of the roof and feeling exceptionally unstable, even though he’s walked across ledges like this since he was twelve.

“What don’t I get? That you have an awesome partner waiting for you at home? One that wants to get married? One that—”

“One that has no idea who I am,” Jason hisses. He brandishes his helmet at the girl. “We’ve been together for three years. They have no idea that I’m the Red Hood. It made sense, at first; I can’t go around telling everyone I kiss what my identity is—”

“Right,” she scoffs sarcastically, “like you’re some kind of serial kisser, Todd. Half the city would know your identity if you did that.”

“Shut up,” Jason half-says, half-groans, and by some miracle, she does. “At first, obviously I couldn’t tell them. Then I wanted to keep waiting. I wanted to know that they were, you know, the one and everything.”

Spoiler fake-gags. Jason ignores her.

“And after that it was just too late. I waited too long. I can’t marry them unless they know about the mask, but who would agree to marry someone that’s been lying to them for three years? The entire time they’ve known me?”

“Huh,” says Spoiler.

‘Huh’ indeed.

“So I ran,” Jason says. “I don’t even know if I said anything. The next thing I knew, I was in the street with a pack of cigs and a lighter in my pocket. I came up here to smoke a couple before going back and ending things.”

“You—wait, ‘ending things?’” Spoiler’s head whips around, the white lenses of her domino widening. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t lie to them,” says Jason. “When I go back, I’ll tell them the truth. And they’ll break up with me for lying for years. I was just trying to put it off.”

The worst thing was, he wasn’t even trying to lie for most of it. You took his excuses easily, believed him about a boxing gym membership to explain away the bruises, and never uttered a complaint about the odd hours he worked. Every time he was late to a date or canceled, you understood. Every time he forgot something important, odds were that you’d forgotten, too, without him to remind you.

All things considered, Jason might have found the single least curious person in all of Gotham, if you hadn’t figured it out after three years. But he’d gotten so comfortable that he’d forgotten that it was a secret, really. It had all rushed back in when he heard your words like a smack to the face, and he’d panicked.

“You don’t know that,” Spoiler says softly.

“Could you forgive someone for something like this?”

She stays silent, and that’s answer enough.

Jason huffs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out the pack of cigarettes and lighter, and considers them. Then he sighs and drops both on the ground. “Might as well get this over with.”

The cold Gotham air whips away the reek of smoke by the time he’s back at your apartment. Jason looks at the door like a condemned man looks at the gallows. He could sneak in through the window like he usually does, but he selfishly wants you to open the door for him. Show that he’s welcome now, even though he won’t be for long.

Seconds drag on like torturous minutes until he hears the familiar click of the lock. The door inches open with a screech.

Jason’s mouth goes dry at the sight of your wide eyes. “Hey, darling.”

Wordlessly, you open the door further and step aside to let him in.

Funny how a place he’s practically lived in can feel so unfamiliar. Jason shifts between feet as you re-lock your door.

The moment you turn around, he blurts out, “I’m sorry.”

You say the same thing.

“What?” Jason asks.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you say.

“No, I was an ass,” he insists. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“I didn’t mean to push you. I just saw you looking at rings, and we’ve talked about it, but still, marriage is a big step, so I wanted to be prepared,” you ramble. “I mean, we said that we could get married, but we never discussed when, or when the proposal would be—”

“Honey!”

You fall silent.

“Just wait,” Jason begs. He can’t stand any more of your endless understanding. You’ve only ever understood him, no matter what, and he’s going to miss it so much. He’s going to miss you so much. “Wait one second.” He retreats to the bedroom and returns a moment later with something clutched behind his back. Your eyes dart to the awkward way he’s contorted his arm.

Your face goes blank when he pulls out the spare helmet he keeps below your bed. He’d only used a domino when out with Spoiler, but that wouldn’t do for the grand reveal.

“I’m the Red Hood,” he says in a rush, then braces for your judgment.

You don’t react except to say, “Jason.”

He doesn’t understand. You’re not scared of the killer in your apartment. You’re not furious at the man that’s lied to you for three years. Obviously you don’t understand what he’s saying. “Honey, I’m the Red Hood. The vigilante.”

“Jay—”

You’re still just standing with no reaction. Jason holds the mask up so you’re making eye contact with it.

You push it out of the way and cradle his face with both your hands. “Jason Peter Todd, look at me,” you command.

Jason holds your gaze. It’s the last time he’ll ever be so close to you, and he never wants to forget what your presence feels like.

“Jay, I’ve known basically the whole time.”

What.

Jason blinks.

“What?”

“I already knew.”

“Honey, I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. I’m the—”

“Red Hood, yes, I know.” You muster up a tremulous smile. “And Bruce is Batman. Dick is Nightwing. Steph is Spoiler, Damian is Robin, Tim is—”

“Oh my God, you knew? How did you know?”

“Jason. My love. My darling. My honey bunchkin.” You give him a mildly scolding look. “I’m not an idiot.”

Jason’s ears heat. “And you’re not… mad?”

“That you’re the Red Hood?” You cock your head. “Of course not. I worry about you, of course. But you have to do it. I know that. Or am I mad that you tried to keep it a secret for three years?” You press your lips together to hide a growing smile. “No. I’m not mad about that either. You can’t exactly go around telling your secret identity to everyone you kiss. It’s just something I had to figure out on my own.”

“You knew,” Jason marvels. “You knew this whole time.”

“Most of the whole time,” you say. “But yes.”

“Oh my God.” Jason’s moving before he can stop himself, and he wraps you up in his arms and spins you around. “I thought you would hate me,” he confesses, still clutching you like his life depends on it. “When I finally told you.”

A soft hand runs through his hair. “Is that why you ran?” you ask softly.

“Yes. I’m so sorry, honey, I just—”

“I get it,” you interrupt.

“You were scared.”

A thought occurs to Jason with such clarity he nearly drops you. “Wait, so you were going to marry me even after you knew about the mask?”

“Of course,” you say. “I love you, Jay. Mask and all.”

“I don’t have a ring.”

“I don’t need one. Don’t you get it? I only need you.”

“I only need you, too.”

“Good.”

“Good,” Jason agrees, and he probably looks like a fool with his wide grin, but you can’t stop smiling either. He dips his head, and you rise up to press your lips to his, even though with both your grins you end up clicking teeth.

“Good,” you repeat.

“Good,” Jason says, just for good measure, and this time he makes sure the kiss is better. Lightning shoots up his spine and he pulls back to ask, “Wait, are we engaged now?”

“Um… yes?”

“That’s awesome.”

Your smile is so wide that your eyes nearly close. Jason’s pretty sure he looks the same as he sweeps you up and spins you around. You fit perfectly into his arms. He’s never going to let you go.

“My fianceé,” he says fondly. “I’m never going to get tired of saying that.”

“I’m marrying you,” you marvel, sweeping your thumb over his mouth. “I have the prettiest husband-to-be in the whole world.”

“I love you,” Jason confesses. “So much.”

“I love you, too.”

Seconds before your mouths meet for another kiss, Jason’s phone buzzes. On the off-chance it’s an important alert, he pulls it out, but it’s just Spoiler asking for an update.

Jason stows the device. “I have an idea.”

“Yeah?”

“I think I know how to make the sopapillas the right way.”

“Oh? And how’s that?”

It turns out that Jason’s right.

Making them with your help turns out to be what was missing the whole time.

DC Taglist

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts @cliosunshine @fictionalwhor3 @bellathecatastrophe @lonely-star2044 @flanhog

My inbox is open! Stop by to request something or just to say hi!

[chris-prank]

A desperate yandere in your area

Chapter 3 : A new pet

Sub pathetic yandere x GN reader

Previous chapter

(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)

CW: NSFW, praise kink, teasing, porn with plot, petplay, obsessive behaviour, yandere, mention of stalking, giving head/eating out, dom reader, receiving reader, bottoming reader and use of protection

(Even if the reader is bottoming at some point I made it vague enough so you can imagine which whole is being used.)

Word count: Over 3K

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

As stupid as it was, you didn’t call the police.

There you were, sitting in front of your phone, debating if you were making the right choice or not. You finally took it and called the coffee shop, cutely named “Brioche d'Or”. You jumped in your seat when a cheery voice answered.

“You have called Brioche d’Or! I’m Pierre, how can I help you today?”

“Can I speak to Jacce…please?”

“Yes absolutely, could I get your name?”

You told the employee your name and heard shuffling on the other end of the line, before you could faintly hear him say “You’re more popular than I thought!” You had to suppress a chuckle, because by that time, Jacce had taken the phone from Pierre. 

“H-hey, you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes, at what time could you come to my place today?”

Silence fell on the other line, except for his heavy breathing. Even if you weren’t in front of him, it's like you could feel the warmth of his breath through the handset.

“Is 3 pm alright?” his voice sounded choked, as if he had runned out of air. 

You hummed in response and swiftly told him goodbye, hanging up before he could answer. Your face was burning hot and your heart was hammering in your chest. You looked at the time. You had five hours until he arrived. 

***

The moment you heard knocking on the door you took a deep breath. The man standing at your doorstep was towering over you with the most nervous, but strangely excited, expression on his face. You didn't even give him the chance to open his mouth as you pulled him inside. When the front door was shut close, Jacce leaned in on you– expecting you to kiss him. You awkwardly turned your head to the side while pressing your hands on his chest to prevent him from getting closer. He tilted his head, confused, but you could see some arousal in them, surely due to your touch.

“Let's go to the living room.” You whispered, feeling like your lungs were crushed by the proximity. 

As you sat down on the couch, Jacce remained standing, giving you quick glances as if he was waiting for you to say something. 

“You can sit, you know.”

To your surprise, he sat on the ground instead of taking a place beside you or in any other chair available. You could feel your lower half warm up instantly at his actions. You scolded yourself mentally for being turned on by a simple action, but it didn’t prevent you from imagining the most blasphemous scenarios. You cough the thoughts away before opening your mouth again. 

“Ok so, I thought about you becoming my… you know…”

It was out of the question for you to say “pet” or “servant”, this whole situation was already lewd enough with him kneeled down before you. Luckily Jacce nodded without saying the quiet part out loud. 

“I guess it was pretty obvious since I invited you here… " You laughed awkwardly as you felt the heat rise up to your face. 

In the meanwhile, Jacce kept staring up at you with this submissive look, accentuated by his down turned eyes. He was really making it hard for you to think straight. It was almost like his body language was screaming at you to kiss him already. 

"Does that mean I can… live with you from now on?" He asked, tilting his head. 

You froze at the question. Even if this guy had clearly shown that he wished to be yours, you didn’t realize it meant living together as well. You blamed your touch depraved self for not thinking any of this through. 

"Oh em… I didn’t think about that part… Don’t you have an apartment or something?”

“I have a house actually, but it’s ok… I want to be with you.”

You look at him stunned, how could he talk about leaving his house behind like it was nothing!? Especially in this economy! Maybe he was hoping for you to move in with him one day, but you had other things to worry about for now. 

“I guess you could live here if you promise to do what I say."

Jacce nodded with clear eagerness, and you swore you saw his pupils dilate as he spoke again. “I p-promise! I’ll do anything just to stay by your side. " 

As threatening as that last part sounded, you felt honored that someone would go that far just for you. You also mentally winced, you had no time to unpack all the childhood trauma that could have led you to think this way. 

“So no more stalking if I tell you to?”

He seemed to ponder at first, but ultimately agreed, “I won’t need to anyway since I am yours now, but y-yay I’ll stop.” 

“And no more secretly touching yourself while watching me?”

He shook his head up and down quickly. You could feel the lust and impatience taking control of him the more time he was spending in your presence, his entire face getting flustered by the second. You wanted the same thing then him at that moment, but it was crucial to establish rules and you had one more in mind. 

"Before settling this, I need to make something very clear. I know you want to pleasure me and all, but I don’t want you to force yourself when you’re not in the mood. "

"But—"

"Ah ah. No but, If I’m not one hundred percent sure you want it to, we won’t do anything. No arguing with that. Say that you will always be honest."

Despite Jacce being visibly shocked, not understanding why you wouldn’t want to use him without his input, a part of him was touched. If that wasn't proof of your love for him, he didn’t know what else could prove it. 

“I will… always be honest about my mood…” He said slowly, almost like a child being forced to admit a fault they committed. 

“Good and now that’s cleared, do you want to continue where we left off last—.”

“YES!”

You were caught off guard by the sudden rise of his voice, but you were more surprised by his lack of action. You expected Jacce to jump on you like a dog in heat, but no, instead he was twitching his hips forward into the air with his tongue slightly sticking out. He had been a well behaved boy ever since he got here now that you think about it. He certainly deserved a treat. 

You started unzipping your pants as the kneeled man watched your every move, his body trembling in anticipation. You took your pants off, followed by your underwear, grinning at the little whimper he let out at the sight of your private parts. You tapped your thighs, and the man immediately crawled to settle between your legs, licking his lips. You couldn’t help but grin at the lewd display.

"Pleaseee can I lick?" He whined as his gaze was still fixated on your arousal. 

A soft yes escaped your mouth, as you prepared yourself mentally. He leaned forward and took your core into his mouth, slowly swirling his tongue around while his hands caressed your thighs.  

“Good boy.” You cooed. 

Jacce moaned and continued to move his head eagerly, covering every bit with saliva. He felt a wave of ecstasy wash over him as he tasted you on his tongue. His free hand reached down to pull his cock out of his pants, making it stand tall against his clothes stomach. The second he was done, Jacce’s hands went to cup your thighs again, gripping the soft flesh possessively. He was using his mouth like a pro, making you wonder if he had done this before or if he just… practiced with toys.

After a while of him servicing you like an obedient little puppy, you couldn’t hold back the burning desire residing in your guts anymore. 

It was too much. He was too much.

So you placed your hands behind his head, slowly taking a fist full of his hair. The soft gesture made Jacce moan between your legs, thinking you were petting him as a result of his devotion. If only he knew that it was hiding a less innocent intention. 

"Jacce I really need to… "

He seemed to finally understand what you were trying to do since his grip on you disappeared and he stopped moving his head. Jacce stared up at you through his eyelashes, waiting for you to sink into your desires. You leisurely started to move your hips so as not to startle him, but quickly picked up the pace. The man under you kept making loud sounds of pleasure despite your roughness. The vibration on your sensitive skin stimulated your arousal even more. Even with the tears forming in the corner of his eyes, Jacce’s cock couldn’t stop leaking. If his mouth wasn’t occupied right now, he would have gone on and on about how much he loved you. 

While lost in the overwhelming sensations, your mind was suddenly reminded to check on the guy choking under you. You swiftly looked down with your eyelids halfway closed. If anything, his rolled back eyes and the fact that he was still trying to touch you in other ways were good indicators that he was enjoying this as much as you were. In spite of his visible enthusiasm, you pulled away to let him breathe, which made him whine in disappointment. Now that his head was out of the way, you were also able to see his swollen dick pulsing like crazy, precum oozing out of it to complete the look. Knowing he could get this hard by simply servicing you was making him even more attractive. 

"Look at you… not touching yourself because I didn’t allow you too. " You answer between shortness of breath, “I think you deserve to… to feel good with me now.” 

***

You lowered yourself until the tip of his glans brushed against your hole. You wrapped your fingers at the base of his cock and patted it against your entrance. Jacce winced at the contact, or in better terms, the painful lack of it. 

“Please please please, let… let me be inside. Pleaseee.” He begged, trying his hardest to keep his hips down. 

“You need to be patient, Jacce.” You reminded him while ignoring his pleas. 

You weren’t much better to be honest. The thought of fucking him stupid clouded your mind since that time you gave him a hand job. Your self control was all for show since you didn’t want to look like a desperate pervert in front of him. That was his job. 

After some more teasing, you finally sunk down onto his dick, gritting your teeth as it stretched you out. The both of you let out moans at the pleasurable sensation. The feeling of his hard cock inside you was already overwhelming all your senses. 

“Does it Ngh– hurt? Do you w-want… to stop?”

Despite his worried tone, his facial expression and heavy breathing gave away how blissed out he was. He also kept making small whines ever since his cock was surrounded by your warmth, not to mention that his cock also pulsated non stop against your walls. 

“I’m ok. You're just… thick.” You answered vaguely, too embarrassed to admit how he was stuffing you up perfectly. 

Pride overtook him, knowing that his dick would definitely grace all of your sensitive spots. That’s what he was made for, to be used by you until he breaks and to be an obedient pet that feels fulfilled by making you happy. 

Only when you felt your insides adjusted to his shape did you raise your hips slowly, before dropping yourself with all your weight. You kept that pace, all the while admiring his face twist in pleasure. 

“I’m yours!" He cried out instinctively in a quivering voice, "a-all yours!"

To keep yourself bouncing rhythmically, one of your hands went to his shoulder. You cupped his face with the other, gently caressing his cheek to compensate how ruthless you were with his cock. Jacce looked at you through his messy hair and fuck he had the most dazed expression. He couldn’t help but whimper loudly and nuzzle his head into your touch. You expected him to say something again as he opened his mouth, but instead he started sucking on your thumb as he kept up your gaze.

“Such a good puppy for me.” You praised while bouncing faster. 

The mess under you moaned and gasped as new waves of pleasure hit his nervous system. The sound of your ass hitting the flesh of his thigh became louder from your swift movements, almost overshadowing the cute sounds Jacce couldn’t keep to himself. He had stopped sucking your finger, to your disappointment, but it looked like he was actually trying to say something now. You leaned closer, making sure to let your warm breath graze his skin. 

“Come on, I know you can use your words.”

The mess under you made multiple whines in response. You were so cruel to force him to speak like a proper human being when his brain was clearly far too gone to create any coherent sentences. You glanced down and saw how hard he was clenching his hands, both resting onto the soft material of the sofa. So you slowed down a bit, allowing him to speak his mind. Jacce swallowed the drool that had accumulated in his mouth, before answering as best as he could. 

“If you go Mngh— this fa-fast, I won’t… Ah ah… be able to keep it in like a good bo— Unff.” His breath had drastically quickened, confirming his complaints. 

“So sensitive.” You teased, while sneaking a hand under his shirt to go play with his nipples. 

“Aargh— mmff!” Jacce leaned up to trap you in a strong embrace, preventing you from stimulating him further, “w-would be too m-much.” He sobbed into the fabric of your clothes. 

Taking pity on him, and totally not turned on even more by his behavior, you wiggled your hand out of between your chests and cupped the back of his head. Jacce's body and grip eased up as the gentle tingle of your touch took its effects on him. 

“Thank’you…” He muttered in that whiny tone that made you go crazy. 

“Now, how about I let you choose the rhythm?” You grin mischievously, knowing the kind of reaction it would get out of him. Just as you expected, Jacce’s eyes opened wide and you could see a glint of excitement in them. 

“A-are you sure? I… I really can?” 

You hummed in response while guiding one of his hands to your waist. To feel his trembling touch against your exposed skin made your stomach twist in that familiar urge to turn him into a crying mess. But no. You wanted his first time with you to be more relaxed. The humiliation of making him cum prematurely would come later, if he’s on board with it, which you're pretty sure he would. 

Meanwhile, your puppy didn’t need more for his fingers to dig into your flesh and his hips to tentatively roll up to meet with your pelvis. Jacce’s eyes closed from the spark of pleasure, but only for him to force them open so he could admire your complexion. He had spent enough time imagining your face alone in his room, and now that he had the real deal in front of him he was going to enjoy every second of it. 

“Lov’you… M-mine…ngh—” He muttered in a whiny voice, only to repeat mine over and over again, louder each time. 

You couldn’t tell if it was a statement on his part or if he was looking for your approval. Either way you found the contrast between his possessive words and his pathetic attitude endearing. He could say that as much as he wanted, but you both knew that, at the end of the day, he was more yours than anything else. 

Jacce started grinding up on your ass desperately, as if you were a magnet he couldn’t pull away from. His brain couldn’t think of anything else than the ecstasy coursing through his body every time his shaft was engulfed inside you once more. For someone who wanted you to go slow in the fear of cumming prematurely, he was going strangely fast now. Both of your hands grasped at his shoulder as not to go flying off because of the unfaltering movements of his hips. It would undeniably leave marks, especially with how your fingernails were pressed into his skin, not that he minded. It would be concrete proof that he was yours and that this wasn’t just a hyper-realistic wet dream. 

Jacce’s body shuddered uncontrollably as he tried his best to not cum right then and there. He needed to be a good boy for you. Meaning he needed your permission to cum, especially since it would be his first time with you. But more importantly, he needed you to climax first. To think he didn’t get the chance to taste it on his tongue earlier made him pout for a second. He was more than grateful that you wanted him to feel good too, but still, your pleasure was his priority!

“I-I need ngff… your c-cum Ah ah— p-please cum with me!”

Lucky for him, you were also close to your breaking point, the feeling in your guts ready to explode into a million pieces. 

“Yes puppy, l-let’s cum together.” You whisper back with a breathless voice.

One of your hands left it’s post to touch yourself down there, as best as you could anyway considering the way you were bouncing up and down on his cock. Your insides instantly tightened around him as sensation, pulling new sounds out of him. It was just the right push to tension to finally let go. 

Your body froze, and you had him in a vice grip, his dick and his shoulder alike. With your head thrown back, a shrill moan escaped your lips. This was the only signal Jacce needed to finish as well, his hips snapping back in short but swift motions. He emptied every last drop of his cum inside the rubber condom. His last moan, if it could even be qualified as such, was mixed with the start of your name, but ended with a pathetic whine. 

As Jacce came back to his senses, he could feel an uncontrollable smile forming on his lips. It was the first time you came because of him and he was feeling euphoric. Now that he got a taste of being the source of your guttural desires, there was no way he would ever leave you. He could feel his heart beating drum in his ears as his infatuation for you grew exponentially. He placed lazy kisses on your collar, his way of hiding his manic grin, and mumbled words of love. 

The wet sensation on your skin grounded you back to reality as you leaned into him. Never in your life you thought you could have the opportunity to make a grown man submit to you like this and, despite the unorthodox circumstances that brought you together, you were truly satisfied. As the aftershock of tiredness hit you, Jacce nuzzled his head into your neck, like a dog wanting to be petted for doing a trick right. 

“I’m… really yours now?” He said in a hush tone. You had noticed that every time he was in a more submissive headspace, his voice would have a whiny quality to it. Not to the length of being annoying, but just enough to sound cuter than his usual raspy voice. 

You lifted your hand to rub his back in circles.

“Yes.” 

Jacce moaned happily in response, leaning his heavy self more onto you.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

So so sorry for the late update! I hope it was worth the long wait!

Link for the chapter on Ao3

Also no drawing for this chapter! 😔 Maybe I’ll post a drawing based on something that happen in this chapter later on

[grabowskibeepboop]

Okay, I tried reading though all of this, but it started turning into utter jibberish, now this might be because I'm tired, but I also think there are so many details in this that it's starzing to bore me, as well as words I don't know what they mean, but I do like the mentioning of leabians, so far it's only a mear mention tho

So I could not read though all this, but it did make me come up with my own idea for a show about the alliance of two different kingdoms, where the "normal" one, the one without magic, the sorta "good" one (there would be no good and bad, only weird culture and bad reputation on the magical side ig) is the one that's portrayed as strange, because they're always overly kind, naive and understanding, to the point where the folk from the other kingdom start questioning how they're even still alive, eventually making an inside joke about them being extremely lucky or smth

Now I do love a good straight but queer couple, but I also love a good fake dating/arranged marrige plot where the participants don't actually end up falling in love. Paired with me not being able to not make everything gay, I imagine the princess, who for the sake of difference is from the "good" kingdom, is more so the clear minded, cautious, rather pessimistoc than optimistic but still able to see things in a good light kind of person, the kind that would be from the "bad" kingdom, and allthough in her day and age it wouldn't be likely that she's able to put a lable on it, but she is aroace, and her closest allies, her platonic partners are all members of the royal staff (idk the medieval word for that). Now the prince of the "bad" kingdom on the other hand is more "lucky" than the "lucky people", he is sincere, kind, a great, cheerful and bright person. Multiple assasination attempts failed on him, eventually leading to the most tryhard assasin falling in love with him, allthough you would never catch him admit that. Who that assasin is, I haven't got the best idea yet, but he doesn't have either kingdom's wellness as his best interest, and it's because of him that the royal wedding always gets cancelled, not letting the soon to be queen to unite the two kingdoms, finally creating peace and making them greater than any other kingdom around. The show's finale is when this finally happens, and it's able to happen only after the prince is able to (wether knowingly or not, maybe we never actually get to find out of the assassin ever gets find out) convince the asassin to leave it be (him realizing his feelings amd that they have been the driving factor in all this, and that the marrige doesn't mean any more than an alliance to either parties)

Idk just brainstorming

As for the og post, I haven't even got to the fanart area it's so goshdarn long, it's frustrating because I want to read it all but it's also kind of boring (no offense), I can't seem to be able to gnaw through it

Daughter of fantasy villains decides to rebel against her parents by actually going through with her arranged marriage to a local golden retriever of a prince instead of running off with some local villain-to-be or conquering said golden retriever’s kingdom and ruling it solo like her parents expect her to. Plus, sue her, she’s into the clean-cut earnest look.

At the same time, local prince charming discovers that he’s actually very into the gothic fiance his parents have landed him with in order to try and establish peace with the local evil lair down the lane, he would never have guessed a spiderweb pattern could look so fetching on a ball gown…?

Meanwhile, two pairs of parents in a tizzy because they both expected their offspring to whole-heartedly reject this union and give them an excuse to conquer their goody-two-shoes/evil neighbours, they’re not supposed to actually like each other-!

[theemporium]

humbly requesting sirius and mistletoe (that he very obviously hung up himself) for the celly

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“On a scale from one to ten, how traditional do you think you are in muggle terms?” 

You blinked, staring at the boy with a confused expression. “What?” 

“It’s a simple question,” Sirius responded, leaning against the bookshelf you were currently scouring in the library, looking so at ease and relaxed. 

“Is this you trying to use me to help you with your Muggle Studies essay again?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “It was one time—”

“And I said I would help you if you just asked me normally,” you retorted.

“—and that is not what is happening now,” Sirius added. 

If it were anyone else, you would have believed that they were simply asking you a question. But this was Sirius Black who, for better or for worse, always had another plan up his sleeve. Most of the time, it was ‘for better’ reasons that you found yourself on the other end of one of those plans. 

But that still didn’t ease your nerves at the glint of mischievous shining in his eyes.

“So what is happening now?” You asked, the pile of books in your arms starting to get heavy but before you could even make a move towards the nearest table, Sirius was grabbing your arm and pulling you back to where he was standing. “Hey, what the fuck?” 

“Answer the question,” Sirius said, practically buzzing in his own skin. If you didn’t know any better, you would assume he was excited. But you did know him better. You could see the nerves hidden beneath the mischief and cunningness. 

“I don’t know, like, a six?” you sighed, letting out a small sound of relief when the boy took the books from your arms and placed them down on the floor beside you both. “Sirius—”

“So you know all about the muggle tradition that states you get twenty-seven years bad luck if you don’t kiss under the mistletoe,” Sirius grinned.

Your brows furrowed together. “That is not—” 

But you cut yourself off when you noticed the boy looking upwards. And when you tilted your head back, you found a sprig of mistletoe hanging above you two—or, more like it was floating as if someone had spelled it to hover above you both. 

And you couldn’t help but let out a huff of laughter.

“Tradition is tradition, love,” Sirius beamed, turning his head and patting his cheek. “Wouldn’t want all those years of bad luck.”

“You, Sirius Black, are utterly ridiculous,” you muttered before grabbing his face, turning him back towards you so you could press your lips against his.

“Merry Christmas to me,” Sirius muttered, muffling the giggle you let out with a deeper kiss.

.

[minniesmutt]

✧ ━━━ CHOKEHOLD ✧ ━━━ CW: CORSET, ORAL SEX (F.REC), FINGERING, DOM(?)!FELIX, UNPROTECTED SEX, SCRATCHING, G-SPOT STIMULATION, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, CREAM PIE, ✧ ━━━ WC: 1.8K

     There wasn’t always a war between the Solar and Lunar Kingdoms. Disagreements and minor issues here and there, yes. But only in the last few years did Y/n’s father— the king of the Lunar Kingdom—deem the Solar Kingdom their enemy. She remembered the night vividly.

     It was supposed to be a celebration in Spring court. One of two major territories that belonged to the Lunar Kingdom. It was the turn of the season. From winter to spring and all courts— Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn— were in attendance along with Solar and Lunar Kingdoms. 

     Everything seemed fine the entire night. Dinner, socializing, and even dancing was fine. Or maybe she should have paid more attention. She was busy. It wasn’t often she got to see the fae she was fated to. 

     Between her responsibilities as princess and Felix’s responsibilities as prince and next in line for Solar’s throne, they didn’t see much of each other except at formal events like this. 

     “You look gorgeous tonight,” Felix complimented as he danced with her. Having just switched partners from Jisung — the Duke of Autumn court— to Felix. 

     “Thank you,” Y/n smiled 

     “Any word from your father on Solar’s proposal?” Felix questioned

     “No. I know he and my brother were discussing it. Don’t know what the outcome was.”

     Both heirs weren’t blind to the fact their kingdoms weren’t entirely friends. Resources were always the main fight between them. Last time Felix had visited Y/n— well her kingdom — on official business, he had mentioned to her that he proposed to his and her father and advisors that if the two heirs were to marry then the fighting would stop. Their realm could have peace.

     “Hopefully it’s a good one,” Felix asked

     “I hope so too. I’m tired of only seeing each other at events.”

     “We should make the most of it then.”

     The two royals made their way out of the ballroom and walked down the halls of Spring Manor. Finding themselves out in the back garden, moonlight bathing them and blooming the spring flowers as the winter flowers fell from their stems.

     “Do you think we should have told our families about our fates?” Felix asked

     “No, you know how my father is when anyone brings up fate,” Y/n responded

     “Yeah. Even if I barely pay attention.”

     “Because you distract easily.”

     “It’s easy to be distracted when you’re naked in my bed, princess.”

     “Then don’t ask me those questions, prince.”

     Felix smiled as he stood in front of her, stopping them from their walk and holding her hips, “Speaking of beds, is the Lunar princess staying in Spring Manor tonight?”

     “I am. I take it you are too?”

     “Indeed I am.”

     The two royals quickly made their way out of the garden, the south entrance of the manor closer and where her room was. The two quickly and quietly got to her room and locked the door. 

     Felix cupped her face in his hands and pressed his warm lips to hers. Y/n smiled against his lips as she held his waist, slowly walking back to the bed. The prince turned then and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her onto his lap.

     “Missed you,” Y/n whispered against his lips

     “Missed you too,” Felix mumbled, hands moving to undo the corset of her dress, slowly pulling the strings loose. 

     Y/n helped him pull her dress off before she stripped him of his suit. All materials of their formal wear falling to the floor or mattress behind them. Felix laid back with her on top before gently rolling her over, pinning her onto the mattress, and moving his lips down her neck and body

     “Lix,” Y/n whined

     “Been too long. Let me worship you for a while, princess.”

     Felix didn’t let her get another word, kissing further down her torso and pulling her legs over his shoulders. Pretty lips wrapping around her clit, gently sucking on the bud and flicking it with his tongue. Y/n moaned as he held her thighs tight. Not daring to move them from his shoulders. 

     “Lix,” Y/n moaned as her fingers tangled in his blond hair. The prince made a small noise below but didn’t let up, now on a mission.

     The prince took one hand off her thigh and slipped one finger into her. Y/n covered her mouth, hiding her moans from anybody who was maybe passing by. No one — except their advisors who handled their mail— knew the two royals were together. No one in Y/n’s family knew about her secret relationship with the prince of Solar. She just hoped her father would accept his marriage proposal and he could believe the relationship was his choosing. All she hoped was one day she’d wake up with Felix instead of cold beds after their rendezvous. 

     The princess bit her lips and tipped her head back as her walls clenched around his finger. Felix hummed to himself in contempt as he felt her squeeze his finger. Slipping another finger in her she begged for more which seemed to do the job. Walls pulsing around his fingers as he lapped at her clit. Groaning and holding her down with one hand as her hips rocked against his face. He held her and kept rubbing all the right spots before she came on his fingers. 

     Y/n arched her back against him as she rode out high before crashing against the mattress. Felix pulled away from her and cleaned off his fingers before hovering over her. Kissing her cheeks, “Feeling alright there princess?” he asked in his deep voice

     “Mhm,” Y/n nodded as a chill ran down her spine. There always was one when he spoke to her in his deepest voice

     “Does my needy princess need more or are you side for the night?” he asked her

     “More,” Y/n begged

     “You never need to beg. Just ask,” Felix reminded her as he sat back and wrapped her legs around his hips. Y/n looked down at the prince. Watching him push his blond hair out of his face and lined himself up at her entrance. Slowly pushing in and giving her as much time as she needed to get used to him again. 

     Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him back to her. “Missed you,” Y/n whispered as he slowly pulled back and pushed in

     “I missed you too.” Felix pressed his lips to hers again. His arms moved under her body and held her close to him. Hips moved skillfully, capturing her moans in his mouth as she captured his. 

     “Take me back with you this time, please.” Y/n begged

     “I wish I could darling.” Felix groaned, hips picking up pace slightly.

     Y/n moaned as his tip just grazed that perfect spot inside her. “There! Right there Lix.”

     Felix acknowledged her words and shifted his position just a little to push further in and hit that spot inside her where she begged to be hit. Pushing her legs up just a bit more as well. His hands slid under her thighs to do so. The princess gasped when the position hit right where she needed him. Her hands moved down his back before her nails were crawling back up. Eliciting a deep groan from him and cursing under his breath.

     Y/n smiled to herself at his reaction before the thought left her head and focused back on how the prince was making her feel. Pushing her further into pleasure before her whole body was consumed with it. 

     “Fuck,” Felix groaned as she clenched around him, riding out her second orgasm.

     He waited until he felt her unclench and sink into the mattress before he sat up a bit more and pushed her legs down just a bit more, thrusting into her as fast as he could. Her moans and whines helping him get off quicker. Pushing deep into her and letting his cum paint her walls. 

     He gave himself a few seconds before pulling her legs down to pulled out of her. Felix gave her a quick kiss on her lips before making his way to the ensuite bathroom she had and grabbed a cloth to clean her up and then discarded it in the bathroom before climbing into the bed with her. Pulling the covers over them. 

     “I want to wake up like this,” Y/n grumbled as she wrapped her arms around the prince’s waist 

     “So do I darling,” Felix sighed and kissed the top of her head.

     Both knew they couldn’t. Who knows what would happen if someone found them in their position. 

     So many days they wished and wrote how they wanted to wake up next to the other. No more sneaking around. Felix himself was trying to do everything in his power to make that dream a reality. At this point, he didn’t care if it hurt him or he lost sleep— which he most certainly had— over it. 

     He would give anything in the realm to have her by his side. Even giving up his throne. 

     Y/n had paid so much attention to her lover that she had completely dismissed her family. She never saw her father talking to Felix’s father. Nor the building temper he had before leaving the ballroom. Now back home she watched soldiers in the courtyard prepare for war. Her father and brother in front of them. 

     “You got a letter,” Seungmin, her personal advisor, alerted her.

     “From him?” Y/n asked, grabbing the folded paper from his hands. Seeing Felix’s signature stamp. 

     “Why would I hand it straight to you otherwise?”

     She quickly read through the letter. Solar was preparing for war too. He would be heading Solar’s front with his advisor — Chan. Worry quickly building in her gut. She had overheard her father and brother talking about the future king leading the front line and she knew just how Minho fought. She’d seen him practice and heard how the guards spoke about his skills. 

     Scared for her lovers like she started forming the later in her head as she quickly walked to her room, Stringing following not far behind. 

     “I should warn you it’s going to be hard to get the letter out. Your fathers talking about refusing any mail in or out of the kingdom. Only allowing messages from allies?” Seungmin warned her 

      As far as she knew, the costs were still up in area about the war, almost refusing to pick a side. But she has overheard her brother and Jisung of Autumn court discussing troops to send from autumn court to the kingdom.

     “Fuck,” She cursed under her breath

     “Language, princess,” Seungmin teased her

     “I am not in the mood for the reading right now, Kim Seungmin,” Y/n warned him

     “Apologies.”

     “Do whatever you can to get my letters to Felix, understood? I don’t care if you're going behind my father and brothers back.”

     “Understood.”

✧ ━━━━━━ M.LIST  ✧  NEXT

✧ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

✧ ━━━ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @staryflower @estella-novella @ninisoul-space @jeonginsleftcheek @kiralftv

@nimx9 @katsukis1wife @fackeraccount

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[ye4gerism]

This has been on my mind for a while and I’m kinda surprised no body really wrote about it but could you please do one were reader basically gets into curly’s ass about jimmy but it kinda leads into a lil heated argument you can chose if it ends on a good note also have a good morning, day or night 😊

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊, 𝐄𝐆𝐆𝐒, 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 - 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

author’s note sorry for the radio silence. i’ve been suffering from writer’s block. working retail during the holidays will do that to you. anyway, enjoy this ficlet.

You were starting to wake. Through your eyelids, you noticed how the room around you began to brighten up. You let out a groan and turn onto your side before proceeding to tap your hand on the side where Curly normally slept…and yet you felt nothing there. Your eyelids flick open in horror.

Curly's side of the bed was empty. You sit up, frantic. Where was he? You look at his dresser, then yours - no note. You scan the room and there isn't any sign that he's gone.

You scoot off the bed and go downstairs. As you descend, you can hear his voice. You follow it into the kitchen where you finally see him standing there, still in his boxers, one hand on his hip, and the other holding his phone against his ear. He looks frustrated, must be that pony job he always complains about.

Curly acknowledges you with a smile before focusing once again on his conversation. "No, that makes no sense! I already told you I was coming here!"

You walk up behind Curly and lean against his back. Your hands run up his torso, feeling up his pectorals and his abs.

“Alright, Jimmy,” he says.

Of course.

You pull away at the sound of that name. You didn't really like how Jimmy presented himself; there was a strange amount of jealousy from his end and he could just never be happy for others. There was already a mutual dislike for each other but your boyfriend, Curly being Curly, takes his job too seriously and lets it spill into his personal life. He thinks he can H.R. his way into making you and Jimmy friends or, at least, respect each other.

Curly hangs up and turns around to greet you. "Good morning, sweetheart." He lights up with these words, no sign of being bothered by his conversation. You decide not to say anything at first. If anything, you were a little annoyed - if he was going to wake up before you, you'd at least hope he'd go out on a run or maybe surprise you with a sweet treat or flowers. You open the fridge in search of something to eat. Milk, eggs, leftover pomegranate.

"Babe?" Curly's head pokes over the fridge. "I said good morning."

You decide to eat the pomegranate for breakfast. Wouldn't want it to go bad.

"I bet it is. How's your boyfriend?" you ask. Curly's face drops. You close the fridge and take a seat by the island counter.

"Hey, don't walk away from me. What's up with you?" he asks. You shoot him a look, then your eyes move to his phone. Curly eyes follow yours and it hits him once his eyes settle on his phone.

"Please don't start. Not this morning."

"Oh, so you're aware. Perfect!" You place your cut pomegranate back in the bowl. "My question is just why? Why do you give him so much...control?"

"Control? I am my own man, you know. Captain of my own ship." You must have hit a nerve because Curly normally doesn't get defensive like this. Using his title to make him seem better? Not a usual practice of his.

"You deliver shit! People at NASA get to brag about going to space to explore! You don't. So don't let your ego get in the way of me questioning your relationship with your idiot friend."

He was Persephone, Jimmy was Hades, and like Demeter, you only had Curly for the spring and summer.

You both stare intensely at each other for a moment and it was the 'let's just hop in the sheets and fuck it out' intensity. You both were genuinely pissed at each other. 

"I'm going to step out," Curly says breaking the silence. He starts to make his way up the stairs. "Yeah, avoid the question of Jimmy, like you always do!" you yell at him.

"Shut up!" He's halfway up the stairs. Your head cocks back. "Did you tell me to shut up?" He's never spoken to you like that - you're not even sure he's spoken to anyone like that.

Curly realizes what he's just said and is equally as shocked by his own mouth. He rushes down the stairs and reaches out to you. When he's close, you turn your body away. "Hey..." he pleads.

"Curly...please go. Go anywhere. I don't know. Go call Jimmy or something. Just get out of my sight." You push your bowl of fruit away from you. Still refusing to face him, you continue, "I will not allow you to talk to me like that. Especially, especially, if we're talking about Jimmy. You must be out of your fucking mind."

He lingers before finally giving in. "Ok...I'll step out for a bit." Curly hesitantly places a hand on your back. You don’t tell him off or recoil. “I’m sorry and…and I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

Of course, he wasn’t going to acknowledge the actual problem - Jimmy. So you choose to let it go because it’s all you can do. Curly gives you the day to yourself before coming home for dinner. A bouquet of your flowers and tons of kisses make up for the quarrel for now.

[kawoala]

DRIVEN BY ADRENALINE suna rintarou. chapter 001 ; only in the movies.

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 (1,221)

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 (runa is very talkative, very minimal profanity, first mention of street racing, shy! reader, karasuno! reader, runa dressing reader in … provocative clothing so they look like they fit in, anxious! reader, runa + suna are cousins again — who’s surprised?? [hint: no one !!], social anxiety)

“Hi, I’m Runa! It’s really nice to meet you. I thought you weren’t going to show up at first, but now you’re here! You seem like a nice girl so far— my last roommate was a total bitch. Sorry, I tend to talk a lot about myself. Where are you from?”

You blink at the brunette a couple times. You’ve barely even crossed the threshold of the dorm, and she’s already bombarded you with seemingly hundreds of questions. Your mind catches up with you and you shake your head to clear the fog away. “It’s nice to meet you, too,” you say quietly, giving her a shy smile. “Um, my name is Y/n and I’m from Miyagi Prefecture. What, uh, what about you?”

“No way!” She exclaims, eyes lighting up. “I’m from Miyagi Prefecture. What school did you go to? Shiratorizawa? That school is really good at sports. Or, Karasuno, maybe? They’re also pretty good. I went to Johzenji— they’re okay at sports, but I never really paid attention to anything but volleyball. I was the manager for the boys’ club.”

“Um, yeah, I went to Karasuno. I wasn’t interested in any sports though, my focus was more on the arts. Choir, photography— stuff like that.”

She nods and hums. “Totally understandable. I mean, who wants to sit in a crowded gym full of sweaty people?” She shudders in mock disgust and you snicker quietly. “I sure didn’t. That’s why I was down on the court making sure nobody died from dehydration or anything.”

You laugh, but don’t say anything more. Her face lights up once more, like she’s just realized something, and she claps her hands together. “Oh my god! I didn’t even let you in the dorm yet. Please, come in, set your stuff down.” She steps out of the way and extends her arm, giggling.

You walk past her, glancing around the room. It’s not huge, by any means, but it’s still pretty nice. There’s two beds, two desks, and a loveseat in the corner that was probably a pain to get in the dorm.

You set your things down on your bare bed— your bag, a succulent plant your mother gave you right before you left, and a takeout bag that only has fries left in it. You were planning on giving them to Runa as a housewarming gift, but they’re probably cold now, so you decide not you.

“Okay, so,” Runa starts, making you turn to look at her. “A couple things to know; I talk a lot, which you probably already picked up on.” She laughs. It’s a nice sound. “I’ll keep my side of the room clean if you do. You seem like a clean person, though, so I doubt that will be a problem. I won’t bring anybody in here without talking to you first and I hope you’ll do the same.” She pauses and purses her lips as if in thought. “I think that’s it. If you have any, like, rules or anything let me know!”

You nod slowly, taking in her words. “Sounds great,” you say, smiling. “I don’t really know anyone here yet, so you don’t have to worry about me bringing people here. And I am a pretty clean person, so that’s not a problem either. Um, I probably won’t talk too much until I get to know you better.” You swallow. “Sorry if that’s mean.”

“No, no. I totally get that. I used to be that way, too, but then I was like, ’I don't really care anymore,’ so.” She shrugs. She opens her mouth to say something, but is cut off by a knock at the door. Both of your heads turn just as a piece of what looks like paper slips under the door.

You glance at each other, sharing a confused look, but then she walks over and picks it up. You watch her eyes go from narrowed, to familiarity. “Um, what is it?” You ask.

She flips it over to see if there’s anything on the back, then looks up at you and hesitates. “Uh.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and holds it out to you. “It’s an invitation to a race tonight.”

“A race?” You repeat in a mumble, eyes scanning over the words quickly. ‘T-20. be there at 10 or don’t come at all pussies.’ Your eyes widen a bit and you have to read it again to make sure you’re not hallucinating.

“A street race,” she explains. “They’re, um, like, super rare to get an invitation to. My cousin is racing tonight, so that’s probably why I got one.” You look up to see her brows furrowed. She clocks your gaze and smiles politely. “Do you wanna go with me? It’s not very fun being the only girl there who’s not interested in going home with one of the racers.”

A street race? Like, a real life street race? Those are real? You thought they only existed in movies. Aren’t they illegal?

Hundreds of thoughts flood through your brain and you can feel the palms of your hands start to sweat. You swallow hard. “A street race.” A statement, not a question. “Aren’t those, um…”

“Illegal?” She laughs, but nods. “That’s why they’re invitation-only. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I understand. They’re not everyone's thing.”

You chew on your bottom lip, eyes falling back to the piece of paper in your hands. You applied to this college purely because you heard Tokyo was not boring. What kind of college girl would you be if you declined this invitation. With a deep breath, you nod. “No, I’ll go. Ten o’clock.” You glance at the clock. “Four hours to find an outfit that will make it look like I belong at an illegal street race. No problem.”

She laughs again, smiling so wide her eyes crinkle. “You’re funny, Y/n,” she says. “I think we’re going to be good friends.”

You smile back at her and, once again, she claps her hands together. “I’ll help you find an outfit, don’t worry.” She walks to her closet, then looks back at you. “How comfortable are you with fishnets?”

“Um.”

The two of you leave the dorms at approximately 9:30, riding in Runa’s shitty Toyota Corolla. You have to suppress a laugh when you see it because when she had told you her cousin was racing tonight, you’d expected her to have a nice car like you assume her cousin does.

You were horribly wrong.

When you pull up to the underpass, it’s packed. Actually, maybe packed is an understatement because there are probably over 500 hundred people present. Almost instantly, you start to sweat. Even in the short-shorts and deliberately ripped up t-shirt that Runa dressed you in. Saying you’re out of your element is also probably an understatement.

You step out of the car and a mixture of gasoline and exhaust fumes hits your nose. You try your best not to scrunch your face up, but it happens anyway.

“You get used to the smell!” Runa shouts over the loud music and constant revving of engines. Somewhere to the left of you, someone screams at the top of their lungs. You glance at Runa and she snickers, walking closer to you. “And the noise.”

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@sahrii , @cherrysurf , @heartmaddie , @jpegarchives , @massacremars

@vertejay , @tiramizuloz , @gumims , @mybelovedvi , @chaotic-neutral-ig

@usbrous , @iheartamora , @iluv-ace , @xavlyzn , @velvetreds

[certifiedsexed]

Could you give me any insight on the safety of these feminine hygiene wipes I bought? I’m not sure how to tell if they’re going to give me a yeast infection or something lol

(Note: I cannot see these well enough to describe them for others, sorry about that.)

Now, admittedly, I can't see these super well and I'm not an expert on the subject but I do have some thoughts.

The first red flag here is perfume. Perfume is almost always a genital irritant. (Which may be why it's listed as fragrance instead. Not sure.)

Also, lavender oil usually contains alcohol, which is also a genital irritant. (Both can cause vaginal dryness and mess with your pH, which can cause...you guessed it, yeast infections.)

Some of the other ingredients aren't always irritants but are definitely possible irritants and can cause yeast infections. (Propylene Glycol, Glycerin, etc)

Those were my first thoughts! But then I noticed the "Since 1920s" text and got a really bad feeling. The 1920s and a company propping themselves up for their "feminine hygiene products"? Not a good combination.

So, I looked up Modess. Turns out they're a proud offshoot of Johnson and Johnson and are partially still affiliated with them. Talk about flags redder than the communist flag, wow.

Johnson and Johnson is particularly infamous for their lack of testing and ignoring when their products were literally killing people and that's not even getting into the racism and misogyny. [Seriously. It's horrific.]

Now, beyond that, I looked at the Modess website. They sell loads of "feminine hygiene products", designed to eliminate odor with many questionable ingredients.

With that in mind and the fact that people who use things labeled as "feminine hygiene products" have been shown to have higher rates of all types of infections and even cancer, I wouldn't trust this shit any further than I could walk [which isn't far!]

I could absolutely be wrong but these genuinely seem sketchy as fuck and some of these ingredients definitely seem like a cocktail designed to give people, especially those with sensitive pHs, at least a yeast infection.

Sorry it took awhile to respond and sorry if I rambled a lot but I hope this helps! Let me know if you have any other questions. <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Exchange

Warnings: allusions to parental abuse, non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: Your father surprises you for Christmas.

Character: Cole Turner

Day Twenty-Three of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - let me dust the snow off your coat/hat/shoulder 

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“What the fuck are you doin’?” Your father’s snarl sends the turkey slipping back into the sink. You spin to face him, holding up your cold hands. 

“Daddy, just doin’ up the turkey,” you blink. “It’s thawed now--” 

“I don’t care about the fuckin’ turkey,” he retorts. “Should be gettin’ yourself ready.” 

You frown and look down at yourself. You wear one of his old shirts, the Ford tee with the hole near the hem and a loose cardigan Shelby from down the way gave you, over loose sweats that were once also his. Nothing you have it really your own, it’s only his scraps, what he doesn’t need anymore. 

“Ready for what?” 

“You questioning me, girl?” He growls. 

You gulp and shake your head. You lower your hand, keeping them away from your clothes as you’re all too aware of the raw poultry all over them. You stare at him. 

“Yes, sir, I'll get ready,” you step forward hesitantly, uncertain as you watch him.  

He huffs through his nose and curls his lip, “presents on your bed. Figure it out.” 

You nod as you come close to him, wary of a lunge as you thank him under your breath. He only shoulders past you and goes to the counter. You’re confused.

Your father doesn’t get you gifts. He doesn’t get anyone gifts. You spent weeks thrifting what you could to give to your aunt and uncles when they got here, altering it all to make it presentable, but he only ever reads his sci-fi books and makes demands. 

You go to the bathroom to wash your hands. You look at yourself in the mirror. Anxiety tenses in your cheeks. Every day roils with the same uneasiness. Every day for more than two decades. You should want to get away but complacence is easier. He hates you but for whatever reason he won’t let you go. 

You go to your room. There’s a bag on your bed. You don’t know why you expected something wrapped or a bow. Still, your surprised by the contents of the paper bag. 

A pink dress with long bloused sleeves and a short skirt. You lift it out and stare in disbelief. You lay it on the bed and take out the shoes with it; little white booties with fur. At the bottom, there’s a box with shiny colours streaked across it; makeup? 

Your father’s footsteps have you facing the door and he appears in his stained flannel, slurping his instant coffee. “Well?” 

“Thank you, daddy, it’s really nice--” 

“Get a move on,” he snaps his fingers at you. 

“Oh, uh, yes, sir,” you shrink down and turn to gather up the things. 

“Make sure you wash all of ya,” he sneers. “You smell like a dead bird.” 

You swallow down your embarrassment. It feels like a trick. Why would he get you such nice things but still be so mean? Where did he get the money? His Christmas bonus always goes to whatever car he’s clanking around on in the garage. 

You go to your dresser and fish out a bra and some clean underwear. Everything you have are handmedown. They are all forgotten, like you. It feels so strange to have anything brand new. 

You take it all to the bathroom and start the shower. You stick to the golden rule; no more than three minutes to get washed up. Don’t waste the damn water, your father’s voice haunts you. 

You dry off and dress. The dress is nice but a bit snug. It’s too short, isn’t it? You tug at it until you can breathe. 

You once more face your reflection. You are lost. You do your best to tame your hair then put on the dollar store cream.  

You open the box of cosmetics. You read each label and search for any instructions. There’s nothing.  

You uncap the liner and examine the tip. You pull your eyelid taut and meticulous draw a thin line over the edge. You let it go. It looks okay. Not tacky or anything. You do the other and do your best to even them out. 

Next the mascara. You fear scraping your eyes but coat your lashes without incident. It looks better now. You blink as you take in the effect. The blush... you’re not very sure. You blend a bit into your cheeks but don’t think it makes much difference. 

Finally, you gloss your lips with the stick of pink. You like the colour but the sheen feels unnatural and sticky. Your father clears his throat as he prowls outside. You sniff and pack everything up. That’s as good as it gets. 

You step out as he grumbles in the kitchen door frame. You glance over and he huffs. “Put the damn shoes on. Whatcha draggin’ your ass for?” 

You flit back to your room and grab the boots. You think of grabbing socks or something but you don’t have anything to go with the dress. Your legs will just be cold. 

You come back out on the heels, wobbling slightly. Your father storms at you from the front door, moving quicker than you’ve seen. He shoves your coat at you. You pout as you try to unravel his intent. 

“Daddy?” 

“Go wait outside. He'll be here soon, won’t he?” 

“He? Daddy?” 

“You’re so fucking mouthy, go.” 

He jams his thumb at the door and you flinch. You take the coat and pull it on. It doesn’t go with the dress or boots. What’s going on? 

“Are you coming?” 

“Fuck off,” he pushes you toward the door and you stumble into it. 

You put your chin down as you plant your feet and pull away from the door. You put the coat on before you untwist the lock. You are lost. 

He slams the door behind you before you can shut it yourself. You shiver as you step onto the porch and search the wintery country fields. There isn’t much snow, enough to dust the ground, but the air is crisp. Your legs are scalded by the early freeze. 

You stare off in the distance. Your heart pumps faster as a thought startles you. Did your daddy just kick you out? Why? On Christmas? 

You see the square headlights first. The pale blue truck winds down the hidden dirt road and steers towards the old homestead. You squeeze yourself as another chill sweeps over you as you watch the approach. Hooked to the back of the truck is a long trailer, the contents covered. 

You recognise the silver trim of the truck. You squint at Cole through the windshield as he pulls up, the exhaust clouding the frigid air. The door shrieks as he pushes it open and you chatter as you bring your hands to your raw cheeks. 

“Hey, you look frozen,” he says. “Merry Christmas.” 

“M-merry Christmas, sir,” you call back. You still don’t understand. 

“I’ll just unhook the load for your dad, then we can head out,” he grins as he keeps his hand on his open truck door. “Got the heat going, you wanna get in before you freeze your knees off?” 

You wince and turn to peek at the windows. Huh? You shrug and come down the steps. You’re so cold, you don’t care. You just want to stop shivering. 

Cole closes the driver’s door and leads you around to the passenger’s side. He pauses to dust snow off your shoulder as flakes swirl down lazily. His touch somehow makes you colder. He opens it and holds out his gloved hand to help you up. He’s always polite but you don’t see him very much. Your daddy did a few repairs on his truck and he would help with the garden in the summer. You were always inside, locked up. 

You let go of him, your hand thrumming from his warmth. He gently shuts the door and continues towards the rear. The truck jostles as he unhooks the trailer. You peek in the mirror and see the thick ends of the wooden planks poking out from under the tarp. It’s a lot of wood. Expensive, probably. 

None of this makes sense. Cole comes up to the driver side and gets in with a ‘brrrr’. You blow into your hands and he reaches to turn the vent up even higher. He smiles at you as you avoid looking at him. 

“Ready?” He asks. 

You hunch down and rub your hands together, “for what?” 

He’s quiet. He peers through the windshield at the house then back at you. You shrink under his gaze. 

“Did your dad... what did he tell you?” 

You heart thumps. Will you get in trouble if you don’t go along with whatever this is? “He didn’t... he just told me to wait for you.” 

“Ah,” he reaches once more to wipe away melted snow from your sleeve. “Well, er...” He stiffens in his seat. “I thought he’d... say something.” 

You just nod. Whatever you say or do will get back to your daddy somehow. He’ll be mad if you ruin whatever this is. 

“It’s a lot of wood. Your dad says he’s going to add onto the garage,” Cole speaks as he shifts gears and steers away from the trailer, circling back towards his tire tracks. “Not many folks got that kind of money and I don’t really need anything done on the truck.” 

Your lashes flutter in furious thought. It feels like this should be obvious but your mind isn’t clicking. 

“Did I say you look really nice?” He clears his throat. “Cold, but nice. I shoulda bought some stockings too.” 

You look down at the rosy skirt and shake your head. A piece slips into place. Of course it wasn’t your daddy who bought it all. 

“Oh, you—thank you, Cole,” you squeak as you smooth the short hem. 

“Well, I figured you’d want to look pretty. I mean, you always do, but... it’s Christmas, right?” 

He sounds nervous, just as much as you. You wring your hands and look around the white landscape. Your stomach is a storm. 

“It was nice of you to bring daddy all that lumber, sir,” you say. 

“Please, call me Cole,” he insists. He’s quiet for a moment as he steers, then sucks his teeth. “Or you could call me something nicer. Like... honey?” 

“Honey?” You eke out. “Why-- uh... oh?” 

You furrow your nose and rub between your brows. That dark feeling crawls up from your stomach as the doubt in your head trickles down to meet it. It’s not making sense but... 

“You still look cold,” he reaches over to rest his hand on your knee, “you can get warm...” He tickles along your skirt then bends his arm up and stretches it out to grab your shoulder. “Come here.” 

You blanch but make yourself slide over. You tremble as you do. He curls his arm over your shoulders, his other hand on the bottom of the steering wheel. 

“See, isn’t this nice?” 

Your eyes prick as that rotting sensation in your chest overwhelms that voice in your head. You sniffle and touch your nose. You squirm as the cold seeps away to unbearable heat. Your denial melts under the flames of dread. 

“Sir-- Cole,” you twiddle your fingers. “Where are we going?” 

He chuckles and slows, turning to plant a kiss on your hair, “you’re going to come meet mom and dad. They are very excited to have you for Christmas.” He squeezes you even tighter, “not as excited as I am though.” 

Your chest hollows out as if you’ve been hit directly in the heart. You can’t breathe as it sets in. It’s absurd but there’s no other explanation. Did your daddy really trade you for a cartload of wood? 

Well, he always did love his cars more than you. You hope it’s a nice garage, that it’s worth it. Well, it would be worth more than his useless daughter. 

[blue-drink]

Baby in the Watchtower (He is Baby pt. 2)

“Marvel!” He turned around to see an exited Flash right in his face.

He stepped back a little, “Woah, what is it?” He asked.

“Bats gave us permission to hold a little party—,” he fake-coughed, “reunion, on the Watchtower, in 3 hours.” The speedster jumped while whispering, “We are planing to connect a Switch to the presentation screen.”

“Oh, well. Have fun.” He wasn’t really sure why he was telling him that, tho.

“Aren’t you coming?” Oh, that’s why.

The Captain wondered for a moment, but his thoughts were interrupted, “Sorry, Billy. But we already made plans, remember?” That’s true; even with the signed documents, they still had to ‘move some strings’ so he was officially adopted in Fawcett’s records and completely recognized as a child of Zeus on Olympus.

His smile faltered a little, he hoped Flash didn’t see it. “Ah, sorry. I have places to go, family matters, y’know?”

For a second Flash looked disappointed, before widening his eyes and asking “Wait, you have a family? Wait, wait, that came out wrong.”

He breathed for a second before trying again, “Well, everyone in the League thought you did not have a secret identity. Because you do not hide your face, and all.”

Solomon, secretly as much of a trickster as the rest, guided him on how to respond.

“Ah, well, you weren’t wrong.”

“Wait-what?”

“Technically it’s not official yet, that’s what I’ve to take care today; and I’ve only been with them for...” “A month,” Mercury whispered in his mind; it was a lie, but it was to throw them off track. “For a month.” He lied.

“How does that even happen???” The hero asked, confused.

“Supes is eavesdropping, answer truthfully to avoid suspicion.” Hercules informed.

“I... Didn’t have a family. I was living on the streets. I’m better now, tho!” He quickly reassured before anyone could start scolding him for keeping that to himself. “I’m fine. I’m going to fix some papers to be officially part of the family.”

“You were on the streets????? And you didn’t tell us???”

He did not know how to keep talking about this, so he let Atlas take control for a bit, “I did not know any better.” It wasn’t a lie, all his foster homes were worse. That would not be how they would be interpreting.

“I found a place, they even know I’m a hero!”

“That’s... So cool buddy.” The speedster said, trying to sound positive, but grimacing all the same. “I’m so happy for you.”

“It’s true, he is happy for you getting a family, but he is sad for you having to live in the streets in the past.” Solomon decoded for him.

“Thank you!” He exclaimed happily, with seemed to make the other more uncomfortable; but his patrons family told him not to mind him, that it was ok.

“Well, see you around!” He said, turning to the Zeta tubes.

“Bye bye.” Flash said, failing to meet his excitement.

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

“New Marvel lore just dropped!” The speedster exclaimed, running into the room.

“Dude, the party does not start in 2 hours— I mean, the reunion—”

“I know you wanted it to throw a game party,” Batman interrupted. “What were you saying about Captain Marvel?”

“Okay, okay,” Flash jumped into his seat, “so, you remember that bet about if he does or not have a S.I. (Secret Identity)?”

“You got an answer???” Green Lantern questioned.

“I think so? Now the question is if that bet counts until last month or currently.”

“Wha-” Aquaman asked, confused.

“I invited him to the party, and he kinda looked sad for a second, and then he told me he had ‘family matters’ to attend to.”

“So he does have a S.I.! How does he keep it shut?”

“He also, kinda, implied that that was new. He said that...” He paused. “It turns out he was homeless.”

“... What?” That came from Bats, surprisingly high-pitched as well.

“He was living in the streets until a month ago. He said that technically he wasn’t a part of the family officially yet, that he was going to fix that today.”

“Sometimes I forget heroism isn’t a paid job.” Wonder Woman said, “Oh, brother.”

“Is this information confirmed in any way?” Batman asked; if the facts could be a misunderstanding, he would need to know so before putting them in the Captain’s archive.

“I was eavesdropping,” Superman admitted, “his heart rate and breathing were steady, unlike when he does pranks. And he wouldn’t lie about something like this.”

Martian Manhunter raised his hand, “sometimes I received feeling of worry about food and warm places from him, even when avoiding looking into his mind, until recently. Not exactly one month, but that could be because he is used to worrying about it.”

“Now that I think about it, maybe that’s why he doesn’t wear a mask;” Arthur said. “He didn’t have anything nor anyone, so he didn’t worry about losing anything by having his identity revealed.”

“That doesn’t explain why he didn’t tell us.” GL counter-argumented.

“His villains know. In the recordings, they seem to reference a secret identity they know; and if they knew about him being homeless, it would explain them targeting almost empty buildings. That’s probably where he was staying.” Gotham’s knight answered, “And maybe it wasn’t about us finding out about someone, but us finding out about his situation.”

“He is the type to refuse help if he thinks it comes from pity.” Diana added.

“... What now?” The situation was too unexpected, and Flash needed some hint on how to proceed.

“Now, nothing changes. He hates pity; and if he needs help, his new family will provide it for him. Treat him the same you have always treated him.” Bats answered. “If anything, make sure not to say anything that may be hurtful towards his situation.”

************************************************************************

“Oops,” Marvel said. “Double oops,” Billy responded.

“It seems the spell from that user has interfered with the transformation.” Solomon explained through Marvel.

“Well, I can see that. What do we do now?”

“Wait a sec, I’m asking Hecate.” Mercury answered this time. “Okay, that spell is still in you— our? Marvel’s system; if we try to de-transform again it could fragment us further, which is no good, and we can’t re-integrate until it’s out.”

“How long?” “At least two days.”

“Wha— I have a JL meeting! Today!”

“I’m sure we can manage,” Achilles proclaimed confidently.

“Ah-ha, sure. Because any of you know how to act like Captain Marvel.” Billy said, sarcastically.

“I have an idea.” Zeus said.

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

“Hey, I kinda have a problem.” Receiving a text from Captain Marvel was not a common occurrence, so Batman was rightfully intrigued.

“Explain”

“I know I have to go to the meeting, I know it's important. But I kinda have to take care of one of my family members. He’s a kid and everyone is busy today, and he really loves superheroes, so if I could?”

“Doesn’t he have school?” The bat questioned. “He is homeschooled” The captain explained. “He is a really, really good kid, I promise”

He was going to regret it. “Very well, but he is your responsibility”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Batman, sir!”

He closed the chat, and opened another with Clark and Diana. “Captain Marvel will bring a child he is babysitting to the meeting, pass the word.”

Let’s hope this wouldn’t be a complete chaos.

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

“Captain Marvel, now arriving.” “Unknown, Captain Marvel’s guess, now arriving.” The Zeta tube prompted.

“Yo, Cap,” Barry appeared in front of them, “who’s the kid?”

The child imminently peaked up, “Oh, gods. Hello, Mr. Flash, sir.”

The speedster felt déjà vu. “Hello, little guy. What’s your name?”

The kid putted, “I’m Billy, and for your information I’m eleven and a half!”

He laughed, “not so big if you are still counting the half.”

“That half is 5% of my life, or 2 years of yours.” Billy said with an almost creepy smile.

He turned to the Captain, “dude, what’s wrong with your kid?”

Marvel just smiled, “Oh, come on. He’s just playing.”

“He called me an old man!”

“First, no he didn’t. That words haven’t left his mouth.”

“He implied it!”

“Second, you implied he was a baby.”

“What a menace.” The speedster gave up. “Anyway, let’s go.”

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

“Is everybody here now?” Superman asked, ignoring the exited squeaks from Billy.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m late.” Marvel answered.

The meeting started; a bit boring. Passing reports, making sure everything of the JL was in order.

An hour later; they were technically done, but could not leave until Bats gave them the thumps up.

“Hey, kid, look.” Hal said, making forms with his ring. Billy praised it like he hadn’t seen it a hundred times before.

“That is SO COOL, Mr. Green Lantern, sir!” He exclaimed.

Quickly, all the members noticed the resemblance between the Captain and Billy. Which, for them, was weird. He had only been part of the family for a few months, who could the kid act so much like him? Were all people in Fawcett like this?

That was assuming he wasn’t related to Captain Marvel; but, taking into account that he had managed to hide being homeless for a year, it was possible he was Marvel’s child.

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

He was searching information about the kid; of course he was, he is Batman.

William ‘Billy’ Joseph Batson, orphan at 5, disappeared from foster care at 8 and reappeared a few months ago. Was homeless, until a couple found and adopted him. ‘Jove Olympia’; he opened one of his archives, this one on Greek mythology, and ran a facial recognition program. 90% match between ‘Jove’ and one of Zeus’ statues.

The facts were clear. The Captain, C. C. Batson, pronounced dead, transformed into the god's avatar, found his son Billy running from CPS and ended up living in the streets with him to protect him.

December is specially harsh on the homeless; the Captain probably asked, begged, his patron to take his son to safety. And so he did.

[teddypines]

Tea Time

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

Summary: Family tea time, with chaos and fluff. The Wayne kids being themselves and weird. Fem!reader, around 6 years old.

Note: This took me a few writer blocks but it is done. I also wish you all very happy holidays and a good new years! Words: 1212 (not on purpose).

Art/picture is from Pinterest, is from the webtoon Wayne family adventures.

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

Y/N loved tea time, especially when Alfred made the tea for her and she got to dress up and gather all her plushies around her tiny table set for a tea party. But she loved it more when it was tea time with her family. When her brothers and sisters would dress up with her, it always took some convincing with Jason and Damian, and set round the living room with her. Even if Bruce had the time he would join and Alfred always played butler when that happens, Y/N didn’t quite understand that Alfred was the actual butler just yet.

Y/N wore her pink princess dress and a tiara as she set Fleep and Bee up on the couch. She made sure they were secure on the blanket before dashing off to the kitchen. Running past Tim and Cas, they both knew what time it was. So the two of them decided to gather the others so Y/N had more time preparing for tea and helping Alfred. 

“Alfred, Alfred!” Y/N called out as she ran into the kitchen. Big smile on her face when she saw the butler already working on a big pot of tea and a smaller one with coffee, Alfred knew that not everyone in the family liked the taste of tea. Making sure that there would be enough for everyone’s taste. Y/N giggled and made her way to Alfred. “Can I help?" She asked as she held onto the man’s leg, giving the man big puppy eyes as she looked up. “Please!” Alfred could only laugh and nodded his head. “You know where the cake forks and plates are, right?” Y/N nodded her head to Alfred’s question. “Go get them and put them on one of the trays on the island counter.” 

Y/N let Alfred go and went to look for the cake plates and forks. The forks were easy to find since they were with the rest of the cutlery in the big drawer. She grabbed the forks and carried them to the kitchen island, struggling a bit when she climbed the stepping stool. “Alfred? Where are the plates?” She asked just to make sure she was going to look for them in the right place. “Lower left cabinet, Y/N/N.” Alfred answered while making the coffee, pouring hot water over a filter, yes Alfred still makes the coffee by hand. 

With the directions Alfred gave her, Y/N made her way to collect the cake plates. She walked a few times between the kitchen island and the cabinet where the plates were, making sure to not carry too many at the same time. Too scared to drop any of the plates she carried. After a little while Y/N had made sure that all the plates were safely on the tray next to the forks. Not one plate was dropped. This made Alfred really proud of her, making sure Y/N knew that. “You did a very good job, Y/N.” He praised, actually happy that one of Bruce’s children could be gentle with something as little as a few plates and forks. Remembering the times where the boys tried to help him, only to have a messy kitchen by the end of it.

The smile on Y/N’s face made Alfred’s heart melt a bit. “Wanna help me with decorating the cake?” He asked, Knowing the answer before he even asked the question. “Yes!!!” Y/N answered as she jumped up and down out of excitement. And so the two of them made sure the cake was taken out of the oven and was decorated for tea. 

<------------------------------------------------>

Y/N carried the small tray as Alfred carried the big tray with the cake out of the kitchen. Tim and Cas were already in the living room helping with setting up. Damian sat on the couch, mopping with a paper crown on his head. Of course he had to be grumpy about the whole situation. Dick on the other hand just walked over to Y/N to help her, only to be told off. “I can do this myself!” Y/N told Dick as she continued to take careful steps to the coffee table.

Cas laughed when Dick got denied by Y/N. “Aaaw, poor Dickie, even our little sister doesn’t need you anymore.” She teasted, watching as a pout formed on Dick’s face. He didn’t want to be unwanted, especially by his baby sister. Dick quickly focused on something else and started to help Alfred. Cas continued with decorating with Tim and Duke and Barbara got the place settings right.  

“Do I really have to be here right now?” Damian asked, only to get yes from everyone in the room. “Fine, but I'm not doing anything.”

“Like hell you are!” Steph hit Damian on the shoulder before punching him off the couch. “You better come and help me with getting dad from the cave.” She ordered. Taking Damian by the arm and taking him away to help with getting Bruce to join them.

<------------------------------------------>

When Bruce Was up from the batcave, Damian was finally being nice and everyone was settled around the coffee table all dressed up and ready for the party.

Y/N smiled and fixed Her crown. “Ehhem, I thank you awll for coming today. We are here to celebwe… celle…” Y/N stuttered a little around the word before Bruce helped her “Celebrate sweetie,” 

“celebrate the cake that Alfred made for tea time. It's a red velvet With white chocolate and lemon stuff and cream.” Y/N continued as Alfred Poured the tea into the cups. A smile on his face because of the praise Y/N gave his cake. Everyone else happily moved around the cups Alfred handed out. Adding Sugar and or milk where necessary.

“And daddy has The honor of cutting the cake!” Y/N finished before carefully handing over the cake knife to Bruce. Cake cutting was something special in the Wayne household. No one really knew how to do it properly except Alfred, but they didn't want the butler to do everything. So they did roulette or Bruce had to do it. Since Y/N didn’t want roulette or a fight, daddy had to do it.

The cake was cut and put onto plates. Alfred getting the first piece. It was his creation, his work and his love that went into it, so it was only fair.

Jason fixed The crown on his head and licked His lips, ready to devour the cake on his plate. Only he waited too long and Steph took a little bite from Jason's cake. Jason gasped in response. “You cake thief! And You even took the best bite! You bi…” 

“Jason!” Bruce warned his son before grabbing Steph's plate and switched it with Jason's. “You know we don't swear in this household. And you, Steph, we also don't steal from each other's plates.” 

“Sorry dad.” Steph answered as she looked down at her knees. “Sorry Jay.” Jason just nodded his head in acceptance and finally got to have a bite of the cake.

Y/N leaned against Dick and looked up at him. “What was Jay gonna say?” She asked, she was just a bit too curious sometimes. Luckily she hadn't found the bat cave just yet. Dick looked down at Y/N and sighed. “I'll tell you when you're older.”

[nneteyamss]

ROSES — 19. FAWK

(partly written)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊

y/n walked to the park, clutching her jacket closer to her body. the december air blew into her face making her cheeks red as she buried her face further into her scarf.

“why the fuck couldn’t i have picked somewhere warm… my ass should not be put in the cold at 8 o’clock at night.” y/n mumbled to herself, already regretting leaving her warm bed. from a distance she spotted intak seated on a bench, looking at his phone. he was bundled up in a big winter jacket and a scarf wrapped around his neck. yet he had hat, letting snow fall and stick to his black hair. intak suddenly looked up hearing y/n approach and stood to greet her.

“hey… thanks for meeting with me, sorry it’s cold.” guilt instantly ran through y/n’s body because he seemed nervous.

“sorry for making you wait, i don’t know why i picked outside..”

“no it’s okay, i just got here a couple minutes before you.”

y/n simply nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets. the silence was lasted as neither of the two said anything after that.

“uhm do you want to sit? i cleared the snow off the bench.” he gestures to the bench and she nods. they sit down and another awkward silence fills the air.

“so, what did you want to talk about?” y/n turns to him, breaking the silence.

“oh right! i wanted to apologize again about the other day. i shouldn’t have kissed you without asking or so suddenly like that.”

“i appreciate and accept your apology, but why were you there?”

“i don’t know how to explain this without sounding crazy but i knew jaehyun was going to be there, and i had a weird feeling he was going to try something. i came in disguise and i approached you because i saw him walking up to you” y/n started at him with a blank stare, processing what he just said.

“so you were stalking me?”

“well no… but yes? yes to an extent!” intak fumbled over his words, not expecting that question. he thought of it more as keeping an eye out on her for a space she knew the man she so says didn’t like was going to be in. now that she said it though, it kind of seemed like stalking. “sorry” he mumbled.

“your disguise was ass by the way, you should’ve asked shota for his fake mustache” she giggled looking ahead of her. the situation was getting too serious, and she felt the need to make it more lighthearted.

“no way… he said the SAME thing. how do YOU know about the fake stache?”

“i’m the one who bought it for him of course!”

“this is like a full circle moment, what the fuck.” the two laughed together at the moment. who would’ve ever thought that shota having a fake mustache would arise in this convo. however, the laughter eventually died down and intak turned serious. he turned to y/n and grabbed her hands, which were now out of her pockets.

“listen, i need to talk about the main reason i wanted to talk. please don’t say anything until i’m done.” he was dead serious, y/n nodded and pushed down any jokes she could’ve made in the moment. “we’ve been fake dating for a couple months now. we both know the original reason this started. but y/n… i really like spending time with you, like a lot. you’re funny, gorgeous, caring, and so much more. i didn’t plan it but i thought this was just gonna be some fun side quest activity. the more time i spent with you and got to actually know you and your personality, the more i started to actually like you. i tried to fight it off because i mean this relationship wasn’t real and i’m your brothers friend, but i can’t help it. i really… really want this to be real. we get along so well, and there’s a connection. what i really called you out here for was to ask this. i really really like you, could i have the honor of being your boyfriend?”

the long speech was followed by silence. one blink, two blinks, no words. embarrassment gnaws at intak who immediately started to regret asking out of fear of her not feeling the same. yet, he didn’t say anything and let her take her time.

“intak, i didn’t know you felt that way. i feel like this is very sudden though. i need to think about this before i answer, im so sorry” intak nodded and gave her hands a squeeze before letting go. “i’ll text you, i just need to think.” she said again before standing up.

“that’s okay” he gave her a small, yet warm smile. his cheeks were red and his hair was getting damp from the snow. y/n reached forward and pulled his jacket hat onto his head.

“you should get home before you get sick… it’s cold and you don’t have a hat.” the words left her mouth quietly, but intak still heard since the night was quiet was well.

“you should get back as well”

y/n nodded and put her hands back in her pockets, “i’ll see you.” she said and began making her exit of the park and going back home, leaving intak standing in the cold. by time she got in her car and started driving away, intak made his way to his car, waving as she backed out the parking spot.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊

previous — masterlist — next

taglist (closed): @cloudmrk @yyangj3lly @vehaez @mmjhh1998 @gomdoleemyson @alethea-moon @jkslvsnella @starfilledgaze @solvrse @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @nerdsungie @lovesuhng @tokitosun @dokgrayson @222brainrot @jakeshuneybby @antifrggile @cyjzzl @nctseventeensworld @bloomyroses @doughyk @lovefooi @chaerinmin @chenlesfavorite @urlocalbeaner5 @thegracerammy @lionzyon @fairyoflia @haefelt @sunflowerbebe07 @seventeeneration @apolloxxivmin @onlyhyunjin @pinklemonade34 @adorwooks @angelpiixie @jkxlvrr @hisrkive @sunghoonsgfreal @zzurao @mango-bear @bee-the-loser @callita @lttlekomori @neozon3nha @calssunflower @natokkiz @joonsprettygf

notes: lalala guess who finished finals, passed all their classes, and got back to work again this week (i need to make all the money i can over break for psyfe and 127 concerts) 🙂‍↕️

[partial-prints]

If you love vampires, listen up!

Do you enjoy vampires, 80’s music, a healthy dose of homoeroticism - all with a theatrical flair? Well look no further, for I submit to you Dance of the Vampires.

(More cool pictures at the very bottom)

What is it you may ask? It’s a musical about a vampire who seduces a girl and invites her to his midnight ball - an offer she simply cannot turn down. The whole thing sorta gives Phantom of the Opera vibes, but like, wayyy less creepy (despite it being a literal vampire). I will say now that yes, Tanz der Vampire (the original title of Dance of the Vampires), is in German, but there is a full recording with English subtitles on youtube, so please don’t let that prevent you from watching it. Now if you’re still reading, allow me to elaborate on the 80’s music and homoeroticism that I previously mentioned.

Let’s start with the tragic gay romance, because I’m sure that’s what you want to hear about first. While not a main part of the musical, the main vampire’s son falls in love with - gasp! - the vampire hunter’s apprentice. They dance together, and with stage magic involving a mesh screen and an actor on the other side dressed identically to the apprentice, it appears as though the vampire has no reflection in the “mirror”. Of course, the feeling is not mutual, as the apprentice is only at the castle to rescue the girl, who he is in love with.

Now, onto the 80’s music. Surely you’ve heard of the song Total Eclipse of the Heart, or the singer Meatloaf (even if it was just his role as Eddie in Rocky Horror Picture Show). Well, the man who wrote that song and a majority if not all of Meatloaf’s work, was Jim Steinman, who composed the musical. The soundtrack contains a decent amount of electric guitar, even a bit of synth at parts, and all around just sounds awesome. However, he only had about a month and a half to compose it all, so he reused some stuff he previously wrote, including a couple Meatloaf songs and Total Eclipse of the Heart, a song he originally wrote for a Nosferatu musical that ended up not getting produced. It was actually originally titled “Vampires in Love,” so what better song is there to fill the place of a big love duet between the girl and the Count?

Tanz der Vampire is my favorite musical ever. I’ve loved it ever since Count von Krolock appeared on the screen and first began to sing, and you may love it too. So I implore you. Please do yourself a favor and check it out. I’ll provide a link of a full recording with English subtitles here, but it should also be the first result on youtube when you search “tanz der vampire english subtitles.” (That production also has Drew Sarich as the Count, my personal favorite.) I should add though, do not watch the broadway production because it’s terrible.

If you’re still not sold, I’m not sure what else I could say to convince you, but hopefully you at least found this interesting and learned something new. If you want to know more about Tanz der Vampire or would like to hear about other musicals about vampires, please let me know and I can answer any questions. (If even one person watches it because of this I’ll consider this a success, and if you do watch it please let me know because it would really make my day.)

And now I’ll leave you with some pictures of Tanz der Vampire as a last resort to convince you how awesome it is and that you should watch it. (I also put in the alt text the song each picture is from for anyone interested)

*ooo the set design and costuming have hypnotized you… you want to watch it now… do it for the vampires…*