#little itty bitty teeny weeny

[deiscension]

﹄ ◇ ; @riwrite / left a prayer:

“ don't lie to me. ” / from hx!

       ⌜◈⌟    ▌ ──   "𝐈'𝐦 𝙣𝙤𝙩!" she cries, reflexively reaching for the end of his sleeve. As soon as her fingertips graze the gilded hem, she yanks her hand back as if she's touched open flame. Nothing in or of the Heavens should ever fall within her grasp again. Including her best friend.

     𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭, Shi Qingxuan insists, "I always meant it. You were-- you are my best friend." 

     𝐈𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐝. For him to not believe it, for there to be even the slightest chance he would doubt...

     𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐬. That would be a far kinder fate than for Ming Yi to choose now of all times to denounce their friendship.

     𝐀 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟.

     "𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. I'll understand." She winces as soon as the words tumble out. Hadn't he just told her not to lie? The least she can do is listen to him for once. Swallowing around her shame, she amends her statement with as much convinction as she can muster. "I'll try to understand." 

     𝐒𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬. To think of him, stoic and uncaring, responding to all questions regarding her whereabouts with his usual blase tone, "Who? She was never my friend." ... it hurts. It makes her want to tear her hair out, to scream herself raw, to break everything within reach, to wrap her own hands around her neck and squeeze until she's relieved of having to endure consciousness any longer. Agony ignites in her chest, the flames licking higher and higher until they nearly burst from her mouth in a plea for him to not forget her too quickly. 

     𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, and he's still standing right in front of her. What will become of her once he's nothing more than a memory of a life that should never have been hers?

     𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. Her first concern ought to be cooling her head and planning her next steps. Steps that will lead her further away from her brother's grasp. She must ignore how her heart trembles at the thought of willfully deepening the rift that has opened between them; otherwise she may go running to him rather than from him. Anywhere the gods could walk without need for disguise is anywhere she should avoid. Spending too much time in Yushi Country wouldn't be prudent. 

      𝐎𝐡, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞? When has she ever known anything at all? Silly, spoiled, self-absorbed. A blight upon innocent lives. A curse. She never saw beyond the charm and glamor of her life because she had so childishly refused to acknowledge the shadows she had been saved from might still exist. Someone as righteous and selfless as Ming Yi shouldn't force himself to remain at her side.

      "𝐖𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬. I wasn't lying about that either." Shi Qingxuan circles her thumb and index finger around her wrist, worrying skin rubbed raw by the ropes that had bound her to the Water Master's bed. "...I overheard what you said to His Highness. You're right; I'm friendly with everyone, but when hard times come, nobody can be bothered with me. Except for you. You've always taken such good care of me, haven't you? You know, when you came back for me, I thought I'd die of happiness. Ahaha, ah..." Nervous laughter deflates into a shaky exhale, leaving her lungs empty and burning. Deciding to act selfishly once more, she refuses to breathe in again right away. She needs a moment to exist before the caveat. Once it's passed, there's no going back.

      𝐃𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, she's struck with the overwhelming knowledge that the best thing she could do for either of them is drop dead. She does the next best thing instead.

     "𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰, you really shouldn't care. You should go back. You-- you--"

     𝐀 𝐬𝐨𝐛 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐭. Ashamed of her unending weakness, Shi Qingxuan buries her face behind both her hands. In the dark behind her eyelids, where she's not as much of a coward as she is when her eyes are open, she lays herself bare.

      𝙔𝙤𝙪. It's always you. Don't you understand that by now? Take my hand. You don't have to tell me it will be okay; you've never done me the disservice of sparing my feelings before, you don't need to start now. Ming-xiong, Ming-xiong, my Ming-xiong. I owe you more than I could ever repay, in this lifetime or the next. I'm sorry. This lowly one never knew her place. I'll find your temples and give earnest thanks. Use the merits to treat yourself to the meals I've promised you. That's the only time I'll ever intrude where I don't belong, I swear to you. So take my hand one more time. I want to remember how it feels in mine once we've parted ways. And you know how forgetful I am. Please, Ming Yi. Please. 

     𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭.

      𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. She needs him to know. Selfish as ever, fighting back tears yet again ( and oh, how tired she already is of her own useless tears ), she tries. She tries with everything she is: not much, yet audacious enough to look into the face of heaven and speak without inhibition. 

      "𝐈... 𝐈 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞. Ming-xiong, you're everything." And I deserve nothing. "I still can't believe nobody else sees that." She dares take a step forward. Dares reaching for him again, determined not to pull away this time--

      --𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝, announcing the arrival of another Heavenly Official. She backs away from the door, and consequently from Ming Yi. Her hand remains hovering between them, a hairsbreadth away from his collar, fingers trembling and half-curled like withering petals.

[emomullethaver]

got called 'mega twink' because i'm 4'11 and recovering from anorexia

[graysonsmullet]

dick: my itty bitty, teeny weeny tiny little baby brother

Jason: *is the size and shape of a brick shit house

[itstheghostofmypast]

Snookums

Idol Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: Pink really was his colour, and she was nothing more than his number-one supporter and number-one tormentor.

Genre: Fluff (its just a lot of floof)

Word Count: 1.1K

Est. Read Time: 5 min

Warnings: None

Rating: PG-13

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: Well, back to revising for the last exam (i swear I'm at my limit)

"What did you just call me?" he paused mid-game, "No- not you- guys wait up, gimme a second, I have to deal with this." with that he muted himself, before turning to what he had to 'deal with', and what he had to deal with was laying on her side, curled up, facing the wall, her phone in hand as she mindlessly scrolled down, one reel after another, after she had mumbled the most grotesque thing known to man, oh so casually, leaving him in utter shock.

"Hello- I'm talking to you," he called out, reaching for the rolled-up sock on the floor, waiting for her response, once he got none, he decided to throw it at her, snorting when it landed right between her face and her phone. Now, all he had to do was wait for her to realise-

"EW! WHAT THE HELL!" her screech caused him to smirk, especially when she sat up to face him, tossing the sock back at him which he dodged with ease, before hopping off his chair and onto the bed, which led her to whine and try to escape, only to have him grab her by the waist and pull her onto his lap, her back pressed flushed against his chest as he placed his chin on her shoulder.

"Now, what did you call me?"

"Nothing~" with a whine she tried to pull away, only for him to pull her closer, squeezing her until she was wheezing out a laugh. His lips brushed against her pulse, trailing up to her jaw until he asked again, "What did you call me?"

"Nothing!" she laughed, trying to wiggle out of his grip, which was pointless, man all that protein was really doing it's stuff huh? Thankfully, she was a smart girl, which meant she could find her way out. Reaching for the pillow beside them, her fingers gripped the edge of the cotton as she hummed, "I called you...." she began, grip tightening on the pillow, "My itty-bitty, itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, hunky-spunky, floofy, cutie-patootie, SNOOKUMS!"

WHACK

As soon as the pillow squared in on his face his grip loosened on her, she made a run for it, leaving the pillow, tumbling out of his lap as she crawled to the other side of the bed, trying to make her escape, only to feel the beast grip her by the ankle, a shriek breaking past her lips as she looked back to meet the glare of a man ready to fight- "Sannie~I'm just a gir-umf"

"No, you're a menacing, little minx!" he huffed, making sure to not put all of his body weight on her, just enough to pin her down under him, smirking when he noticed her gripping onto the edge of the bed, "Did you call me that because I wanted to play a round first?" he asked, only to receive a muffled, "I can't breathe you, big baby."

Rolling off her he sighed, chuckling when she followed, only to slap her hand on his tummy, causing him to wince, whining as he rubbed the spot, face turned to her, while hers was turned to him, both on their backs, laying on the bed, staring at each other.

"What?" she snapped, though her hand was now laced with his, earning a look from her lover causing her to scoff, "It's a cute nickname." Moving closer to him, she pressed onto his side, turning onto hers, so she could hook her leg with his, an arm wrapped around his torso (nah, she tried to, so she was just gripping onto his sweatshirt), chin on his shoulder, so close that their tip of her nose bumped against his, her breath fanning across his face, tickling his skin, "I just think my Sannie-wannie, is an itty-bitty, itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, hunky-spunky, floofy, cutie-patootie-"

"Snookums...I know...and as much as I love you- what the f*ck is up with that, that's not a name, it's a whole family tree," he mumbled, tilting his head so his forehead bumped against hers, the thump, causing her to wince, pouting in return.

"I saw your pictures from your Vogue photoshoot in pink~ It suits you," she giggled, her face flushing at the way he raised a brow at her, his signature cocky smirk gracing his lips, causing her to bury her face in his shoulder, "But then I saw your pictures in a tiara~ my boyfriend is such a babygirl~"

"I am not a- the vogue one- I- stop~" he whined, turning on his side to hug her, pulling her closer as he rested his chin on top of her head, squeezing her every time he heard her giggle, "Stop that~ I'm big and strong." His whining only led her to cackle, pulling back a bit as she looked up at him, smiling at the way he had been glaring down at her, visibly irritated by her annoying antics, though she also noted the pink dusted across his cheeks, and how his ears were a cute hue of red- that's what he gets for playing stupid games instead of paying attention to her.

"You just did this so I'd pay attention to you huh?"

"Is it a crime to ask my boyfriend for love~"

"No, no it is not-"

The door slammed open causing her to yelp, and press herself against him, burying her face in his neck, as he tilted his head upwards to look at- oh shit.

Yunho standing there in all his glory, seething, no, fuming, marching to pounce on the fool who left him hanging mid-game, but his steps faltered when he saw another figure next to the idiot, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he ran a hand over his face.

"Next time, just don't play if you have someone over." He mumbled, frowning at him, only to give her a smile when his eyes met hers, earning a sweet, "Hi Yuyu."

"Hey...sorry for barging in. Enjoy your evening." He concluded as he walked out the door, only to pause when she called him out again, having him turn in the doorway to face her as she sat up enthusiastically, " You wanna know what Sannie is?!"

Confused the taller male raised a brow, nodding in return, not noticing the way the other man had begun to panic, especially when she took a deep breath and began narrating, "Sannie is an itty-bitty, itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, hunky-spunky, floofy-"

Yunho only nodded, confused at first, but as soon as her words were cut off a Cheshire-like grin stretched across his face as he smiled at the panicking feline-looking man, nodding again as he slowly closed the door with a soft click. Clasping his hand on her mouth, he pulled her into his chest, facing Yunho with eyes filled with nervousness watching him leave, no, this was not going to end well for him, he was in love with the spawn of Satan.

"I love you Sannie~" she giggled against his palm, though all he could do was stare at her helplessly, so in love, yet in so much pain- oh that's what he gets for ignoring his little minx.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @spooo00oky @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp

[spinecouture]

i’m sorry but, who let him be so itty bitty teeny weeny little ????

[angel-fruitcake]

he's so little itty bitty here. he's like 2pound 6ounce wittle teeny weeny baby. soso sooo small and tiny. sweet lil bby angel boy

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

A test WIP because I need to practice drawing groups (also Cedar preview because I love her so much and I've had her in the works for so long)

Also wanted to try and lay out some height differences for future reference. Maddie is absolutely itty bitty. A teeny weeny little guy

[justanotherhamiltrash]

Hamilton: My itty bitty, teeny weeny tiny little baby brother

Lafayette: *is literally the size of a brick house*

[rottingraisins]

your itty bitty teeny weenie Kondraki looks so gay. little gay man. little homo.

thank youuu! i think it's worth noting that in the loose amalgam of canon dealing with his queerness hes always described as bisexual so I'd rather not have that overlooked, but I understand that's not what ur trying to do. he does have an incredibly gay aura I agree

here's a few more of his old man faces from the page I just finished since u buttered me up :] he's one of my absolute faves to draw I think he's so funny

[lonesomedotmp3]

oh I'm so short I'm so teeny tiny I'm just a little teeny itty bitty baby girl I am so small and petite I'm a bite sized polly pocket and my feet can't reach the floor when I sit down because I'm just a weeny itty beanie baby silly little short girl with teeny tiny little legs ENOUGH

[greentrickster]

Just found out that height in Sky is not, in fact, standardized*, but in fact random, which is part of why I keep running into all these players who are taller than me! I had wondered if you just start out shorter and get taller over time, but nope, it apparently starts random, and then you can change it with certain spells and that one mask later.

Naturally I must find out how I measure up, in a literal sense! To the measuring lamps in the Golden Wasteland! I've run into quite a few moths the same size as me, so I'm assuming I'm average height, which the internet says is a bit below the middle mark on the lamp-

...

Maybe I got the angle wrong, and I should put on the base hair shown in the pictures just to make sure and get the angle a little better, check to make sure I did everything right-

Ah, I was doing it wrong at the wrong lamp in the Wasteland, and am in fact Dead Average as opposed to Itty Bitty Teeny Weeny as seemed first indicated. Not a thing I would have been opposed to, but from how I've compared to other players in the game, it didn't feel likely. I guess those other players just used the spells I saw mentioned while researching how to do this in order to become Tol.

...

...my take-away from all this is that I'm going to put my hair back in pigtails, but keep my brown moth cape on for awhile. Because it's Still Cute, even if I have two pretty coloured capes now. Being a green moth and having green moth adventures is not, after all, about the colour of your cape, but the colour of your soul!

.

*Oops, I was wrong, it is, got informed in a reblog! Was still a fun exercise though!

[xhanisai]

just another jealous adrien drabble.

AO3

Pairing - Adrinette

Prompt - 'Green with envy'

Summary -

Adrien didn't know how to actually describe what he was feeling right now right this second but he was fully aware of the fact that he was more than very, very happy to kick Kim's ass all the way to New Zealand. No, actually, all the way to the moon.

Oh yes, definitely.

That little shit deserved one big fat kick up the arse right now.

After all, how dare Kim wrap those sweaty biceps of his around Marinette’s shoulders so snugly and look so damn happy in her arms as she carried him bridal style, ready to take him to the nurse's office after he twisted his ankle?

~(x)~

.

.

.

 Adrien didn't know how to actually describe what he was feeling right now right this second but he was fully aware of the fact that he was more than very, very happy to kick Kim's ass all the way to New Zealand. No, actually, all the way to the moon. Oh yes, definitely. That little shit deserved one big fat kick up the arse right now. After all, how dare Kim wrap those sweaty biceps of his around Marinette’s shoulders so snugly and look so damn happy in her arms as she carried him bridal style, ready to take him to the nurse's office after he twisted his ankle? That’s right. Just an itty bitty twist. A teeny weeny sprain. And he had to be a dramatic little princess, claiming that he couldn’t walk when he could hobble just fine to the office with some support. Oh, that boy better take his stinking arms off her right now and stop wiggling his ass like that in her hold or else the cat within Adrien is going to take charge and FIGHT TO THE DEATH— "Mec...you're hopeless," A very amused Nino chuckled by his side, fully aware of what was going on through the seething blond's head, evident in the way his emerald greens pierced through their nervous-looking athletic friend in Marinette's arms. Kim was very much aware that Adrien wasn't very happy with the situation (hell, everyone in the world barring Marinette herself would be able to tell just by one glance at the feline in disguise and even shake their heads). However, since Kim was Kim, he decided to fan the fire within the bristling blond and cuddled up even more into their tiny friend's body in an exaggerated manner just to see his reaction.

.

The table that Adrien had his hands on now suddenly has claw marks embedded into the surface.

~(x)~

 “And what do you think you’re doing young man—” Monsieur. D'Argencourt immediately clacked his teeth shut when Adrien turned to face him with literal hellfire burning in his green, green eyes. Claw marks were visible on the wall that Adrien was pressed against, spying on a group of students a couple of feet ahead of them and for a second there, the fencing instructor could have sworn that his heart was paralysed in pure, unadulterated fear.

 “That girl has romantic intentions towards my Marinette, doesn’t she?” The boy spoke calmly, pointing at the upperclassman who was blushing and giggling at something the designer said. Though, Marinette herself seemed very much oblivious to her peer’s deeper feelings and continued to converse like normal with the other people in the crowd chiming in from time to time. 

 D’Argencourt silently gulped as he flickered his eyes towards the jolly students and then back to Adrien, meeting his stone, cold stare. 

 One wrong move, one wrong word and the man would probably get sliced to shreds by his pupil’s sabre.

 “I-I doubt M-Mademoiselle. Dupain-Cheng will be whisked away so easily if that’s what you’re worried about, boy.” Cold sweat was running down his face as Adrien continued to watch him with green flames. “Besides…erm…I-I assumed the two of you are an item. Considering how happy you both look when you’re with each other…right?”

 .

 “You really think she’s happy when she’s with me?” In a complete one-eighty, the murderous-looking boy was instantaneously replaced with a smitten kitten and he was all hearts and pink bubbles and glitter. D’Argencourt didn’t want to push his luck by questioning the extreme change in behaviour so all he did was nod, lips closed tight into an awkward thin line. “This is great! I’m going to go and say hello to her~”

 The teacher almost felt sorry for the upperclassman because when Adrien pounced Marinette in a surprise hug from behind and the latter turned into a giggling, blushing mess, the former looked like her entire world was shattered and heartbreak was as clear as day on her face. Well, as horrible as it sounds, it’s not like she had a chance anyway with how crazily obsessed the duo were with each other.

 He also refused to take any responsibility whatsoever for being partially the cause of the upperclassman’s akumatisation that took place fifteen minutes later after her heart was practically ripped to shreds (and especially because Adrien plastering a big fat kiss on Marinette’s cheek was NOT D’Argencourt’s fault— that was all the boy’s doing!)

 Teenagers!

~(x)~

 The word ‘bewilderment’ didn’t even scratch the surface of what Alya was feeling right now right this second and she desperately wished that she had a spray bottle of water in her hands because her silly little blond friend was being a complete fucking brat and he deserved to be treated like the bratty kitten he is.

 “I’m her BEST FRIEND.”

 “Well, I’m her BOYFRIEND.”

 “I don’t care. I nabbed the ‘cuddling next to her in bed during sleepover’ privileges LOOOOOONG ago.”

 “Too bad! Those privileges belong to me now!”

 “I will literally fight you to the death, Sunshine.”

 “Bring it on, Ladyblogger.”

 With a deep, exhausted sigh, Nino watched the two’s bickering evolve into semi-wrestling, their hands interlocked and trying to overpower the other with clenched teeth. It was like watching a cat and a fox engage in a stupid fight for something even more stupid and he was in no rush to break them apart. 

 He was laid on his stomach on the chaise in Marinette’s room whilst the girl herself was already in dreamland, her head using his back as a pillow and her body curled up into a little ball. Nino envied her.

 “OooOOh! Getting you two together was a mistake! Yield already you stubborn twink! You will never win against me!”

 “Hah!? What are you talking about? I managed to win Marinette’s heart with my hard work and wooing skills alone! And I’m not a twink; I have developing muscles!”

 “Throwing a tantrum and scaring away other people when they do as much as look at her is a strange way of wooing if you ask me! And what muscles? You’re a stick!”

 “Nuh-uh!”

 “Yuh-uh!”

 Without thinking twice, Nino got his phone out to record his beloved idiots on Snapchat so that he could show it to Marinette later and they could all have a laugh. The new ‘Miraculous’ filter switched on automatically and suddenly, a black mask along with kitten ears was on Adrien’s head on the screen. 

 Nino’s eyes bulged out of his sockets.

 Then, for some reason (as if his body was on autopilot), he switched the camera so that the screen was on selfie mode and focused on Marinette’s snoozing face. A red and black polka-dotted mask immediately displayed itself on her.

 .

 “Nah. I’m just overthinking it. No way my best friends would be the Ladybug and Chat Noir, hahaha…” He snickered to himself and then continued to record Alya and Adrien with the filter off.

.

.

.

~(x)~

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

yall are gonna hate me in a few chapters

part twenty-four

❝ BREAKOUT ❞

SUNDAY — AUGUST 16 — 8:58PM

BY SUNDAY NIGHT, IT WAS SAFE TO SAY THAT BENTLEY WAS JUST A LITTLE, ITTY-BITTY, TEENY-WEENY BIT PISSED.

Five days. Five whole days and still, Tim, Damian, and Jason were nothing more than human-shaped lumps of misery in the cave. 

Dick, a conscious human-shaped lump of misery, was now probably the least Dick Grayson-ish Bentley had ever seen him. He seemed to float between the Manor and the cave on autopilot, his ocean blue eyes more of a murky, stagnant lake. Dick Grayson, the silence-filling extraordinaire, had been talking less and less until it tapered off to nothing. Bentley hadn’t heard him say a word since Friday morning in the cave. 

I hate this. I can't handle it anymore, Babybird.

Those were the last words Dick Grayson said before he fell into a state Steph softly described as nonverbal.

She said it was common, especially with Dick, to go silent when he was overwhelmed. It had happened  on several occasions before — occasions she seemed to be purposefully vague about. And now it was happening to him again. The very last glimmer of hope in the Manor died when Dick Grayson became nothing more than blank stares and sign language.

Jason, on Saturday morning, ramped his screaming and thrashing back up to a one hundred, and even busted one of the leather straps on his arms. He kept rotating through the same various shouts: I’ll kill you. Get away from me. B. Batman. Bruce. Dad. I don’t want to die. Repeat. 

Bentley had spent most of the time when Jason wasn’t screaming struggling through the pages of Pride and Prejudice, hoping that maybe some distant part of his mind could hear the familiar words. Bentley couldn’t imagine writhing under the weight of his own mind, being stuck in his head, unable to escape like a Robin in a cage. Like Jason was. 

Damian still hadn’t moved an inch, besides his hands that would twitch and curl every now and then. Given what little Bentley knew about his past (and the abundance of other things he could’ve been seeing), he assumed twitching was a pretty minimal response. Or maybe the only response Damian allowed himself to have.

Bentley hadn’t heard much about the League of Assassins, but Damian had mentioned before that failure brought punishment. And it hurt Bentley’s heart just a little to see that his endless training to have no reaction to physical or mental pain seemed to stem all the way into his unconsciousness.

On Saturday night, Bentley noticed the palm of Damian’s right hand bleeding from the force of his fingernails against his skin. His hands were moving in a familiar manner that Bentley only recognized then — that Damian was clutching onto a sword that didn’t exist. At that time, Bentley was the only one in the cave, and his first instinct to make Damian stop hurting himself was to put his own hand in the way.

Now, he had three Wonder Woman bandaids on the back of his hand where Damian’s nails had dug in.

Tim had become a level of bedridden Bentley didn’t even know existed — a type of bedridden where he became less Tim and more bed. He was only able to keep himself conscious for small spurts at a time, usually to take medicine or throw up or drink what little water Bruce could get into him. But, on the bright side, his fever had dropped to a hundred and two. Small mercies.

Bentley was at least glad he wasn’t being tormented by the Secret Keeper. But even then, he had only been working so hard because of the people she killed, which, in turn, made it all her fault, actually.

The Wayne family was in a state of disarray Bentley didn’t even know was possible. Patrol had been dropped in favor of caring for the ones in the medbay. School was nothing but a fleeting memory — it hadn’t been mentioned since Tuesday. Everyone was in the Manor but it felt like no one at all, like they were all trapped in some dark tunnel they would never see the end of. Like John Whittaker’s wish that the Wayne Dynasty would crumble was coming to fruition right before their eyes.

Who gave the Secret Keeper the right to do that to them? Who gave her the authority to destroy Bentley’s family from the inside out? And for what? For fun? Entertainment?

Bentley was pissed about it.

Wholeheartedly, entirely, absolutely pissed.

It was after dinner on Sunday night, and he was cooped up in the den with Dick, Duke, Steph, and Cass, watching some random Disney movie on a low volume. No one was really watching. Their eyes may have been on the screen, but he could practically see their minds wandering behind them. He didn’t blame them, his mind was wandering, too. Mostly concerning the fact that he felt like he wanted to, like, burn down a house or something.

Bentley had never been one for anger before. He was always too afraid of his father to be mad, too scared, too upset. He never had anything to fight for like he did now — like the Wayne’s. He never had anything to protect, nothing to be so utterly hell-bent on keeping in one piece. He’d been feeling it for a while, that little inkling that made him want to commit arson every time something happened to one of them. 

Instead of burning down someone’s house, he wanted to end the Secret Keeper.

Which was exactly why, for the first time in five days, he texted Asten and Nico back.

The group-chat had basically imploded on itself in Bentley’s absence. He had well over two-hundred texts in that group alone, not counting the questioning from both Asten and Nico individually. Was he sick? Was he alive? Why weren’t Damian or Duke at school? Had he been murdered? Was he missing? Should they call the cops?

I’m ready to go to the cabin was the vague and pretty random text they got from Bentley at nine on Sunday night.

Asten was quick to reply: JESUS dude. I thought you were DEAD dead. 

OMG YOURE ALIVE!!!!! was the text he got from Nico.

Secret Keeper again, he sent. And then, in a separate message: I’m ready to destroy her now.

Hell yeah! Was Asten’s next text. I’m so down. Can you both get out of your houses tonight? Preferably without anyone noticing? And stay out of them for a few days?

Stay out of the house for a few days? He hadn’t really thought about that, though he guessed it made sense — a secret plan to take out a supervillain was likely to take a while. But the Wayne’s couldn’t have a clue what was going on; they’d end it. Coming and going from the Manor would be too risky. So… that meant Bentley would probably have to do what he’d failed so miserably at the first time.

Run away. Again.

Which he pretended he didn’t feel bad about. As soon as he was out of the Manor, he’d have to commit — no turning back, no running home until the Secret Keeper was down. It was the only way to do it without anyone finding out. 

But, if he went missing now… the Wayne’s would think the Secret Keeper got him, wouldn’t they?

Bentley glanced down at his legs. Dick’s head was laying there, and though his breathing was soft and his eyes were closed, Bentley knew he wasn’t asleep. The child had been playing with his hair for a while now — it seemed to be the only thing that could take the tension out of his older brother’s shoulders anymore.

Was destroying the Secret Keeper really worth the pain it might cause them? Thinking that she got him? That he might be dead? Was it worth the people that cared about him most thinking that he was killed?

What if he actually didn’t come home? 

He ended up having to shove that train of thought deep down into his Puppeteer door and locked it away. If he thought about it too much, he’d feel guilty, and wouldn’t be able to go on with the plan like he said he would.

I can make it happen, he sent to the group, careful to keep one hand on Dick’s head so he didn’t get suspicious.

My parents are going to die, Nico said.

Asten replied: We can’t bring our phones — they can be tracked. You’ll have to delete this text thread before you leave. Nico, bring your camera.

Oh, God. They were really doing this, weren’t they? Bentley glanced up at the other Wayne’s in the den, faces illuminated by the firelight, like they could read his mind. None of them seemed to be.

Every police officer in Gotham is going to look for us, my parents will make sure of that, Nico texted. Bentley cringed at the thought. At least most of his Vigilante family wouldn’t be patrolling, right?

Bentley typed a quick: You don’t have to come.

I'm coming, was Nico’s reply.

Asten finalized: We’ll meet at Nico’s house at midnight. No phones. Bring what you think you’ll need, I’ll handle the rest. Don’t say a word. Vamos matar essa vadia.

Bentley glanced around him, at Steph on his right and Dick on his lap, staring blankly at the television. This was going to be worth it. It had to.

“Dick?” He whispered, leaning forward the slightest bit, just far enough to catch the older boy’s eyes when they flicked open. He didn’t speak, but he lifted his hands subtly, moving them in carefully trained motions.

Yes?

Bentley breathed in and out. “I’m going to go back downstairs,” He whispered. “I just didn’t want to shove you around if you were sleeping.”

Dick replied with a nod, sitting up just far enough for Bentley to maneuver out from under him. The child shuffled off the couch and stood, glancing back at Dick Grayson’s ocean-but-more-like-a-lake blue eyes.

There was… there might’ve been… an actual chance he would never come home.

He moved forward, gently wrapping his arms around Dick’s neck. “I love you.”

Dick hugged him back tight, maybe not as enthusiastically as normal, but with just as much love.

Bentley had to keep himself moving, or he’d think about the possibility of death and psyche himself out. So he reluctantly peeled himself away from Dick and fought the urge to give everybody hugs. (He knew that would be too suspicious, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to.)

With a breath in, he left the den and floated down to the cave.

Bruce and Alfred were both down there. The latter was still working at the various testing machines, while the former was between Tim and Jason’s hospital beds, still looking torn about what spot in the room he took. There was an empty chair between Jason and Damian’s beds that Bentley had seen Bruce in not too long ago. Jason wasn’t screaming, but he was wiggling around quite a bit. The other two were still.

The Bat knew he was in the cave before Bentley even knew he knew. 

“Bentley,” Bruce greeted lowly, turning from the hospital beds toward the entrance of the cave, where the child was just standing. Nowadays, his gray eyes seemed to just get more dull. “Are you guys done watching movies?”

Bentley shrugged, padding into the medbay, fiddling with the band-aids on his hand from where Damian’s grip had made him bleed. Tim’s Wonder Woman pajamas had been replaced with some old sailboat ones of Jason’s. “Just coming to check on them.”

Bruce’s eyes drifted back to the trio of beds, and he sighed softly. “No changes.”

Bentley glanced at each of them, then back at Bruce, who leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose. Body language that indicated stress, Bentley noted. 

He moved forward slowly, coming to a stop next to Bruce’s chair, glancing at Tim and Jason. “Are you okay?”

The question was aimed at Bruce, who glanced at Bentley at the same time he looked at him.

“Of course,” Was Bruce’s reply, and his hand drifted up, landing on Bentley’s back. 

Bentley shook his head. “You don’t have to be.”

If there was anything Bentley had learned since he moved in with the Wayne’s, it was that he didn’t need to keep everything to himself. That he could cry and stuff like his father never let him. So why, when it came back to the Wayne’s, did they seem to do exactly the opposite? Hold it in until they broke, like Tim, like Damian, like Dick?

Bruce graced him with a vague semblance of a smile that left as quickly as it came. “You’re one smart boy, you know that?”

Bentley said nothing. In all of his (limited) days, he had never ever been called smart. Stupid, dumb, worthless, and everything in between, but never smart.

“And I think…” Bruce’s eyes trailed over to Tim, Damian, and Jason. “That I might be cold.”

Bentley blinked, and then hauled himself into the man’s embrace without question.

Bruce’s arms closed around him, protecting him from probably anything in the entire world, and Bentley sighed lightly. “I think everyone’s kinda cold.”

“I think you’re right,” Bruce replied, glancing between his three unconscious sons.

The family was so cold they might just turn to ice if one more bad thing happened. Like Bentley seemingly going missing.

Was his escape plan really worth it?

—

When he woke up in Bruce’s arms, it was silent.

He didn’t remember falling asleep there, but it wasn’t a surprise, really. He had quite a bad habit of falling asleep when people held him.

Nothing was different from when he fell asleep — the trio was still unconscious, Alfred was still testing, and Bruce was still dull and cold. The only thing that looked the slightest bit different was the glow from the Batcomputer that hadn’t been on before. Barbara must’ve come to work on cases for a while, though she wasn’t there now.

“Hey, bud,” Bruce whispered, and Bentley felt his hand moving subtly on the back of his head. “You can sleep — I’ve got you.”

For a moment, Bentley almost just obeyed. It was tempting. But he knew that if he didn’t make himself get up and go, he wouldn’t, and he couldn’t leave Asten and Nico hanging.

So, instead, he fished his phone out of his pants pocket and checked the time. 11:14pm. Asten wanted them to meet at midnight.

Bentley rubbed his eyes and glanced up at Bruce, blinking a few times, then wiggling out of his arms. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go check on Dick.”

Bruce rubbed his back as he stood. “Okay. Text me if you decide not to come back down.”

Bentley’s words seemed to taste funny when he lied, and the sour on his tongue only got worse when Bruce replied with no suspicion. With trust — he believed him.

The child pushed himself across the Batcave, fighting away the questions of was it worth it the whole way. 

Well, until he stopped at the Batcomputer.

The screen was on with two pictures on it — pictures of metahuman villains from recent patrols. The Secret Keeper was one of them, staring into Bentley’s soul with her amber eyes and stitched grin. It simply said The Secret Keeper below her picture.

There was a picture of another girl with black hair and what looked to be purple eyes next to her. Beneath her photo it said The Void. Bentley remembered watching the patrol where they fought her a few weeks ago, before everything got really bad. She could make portals and send whatever she wanted wherever she wanted. (Then came the debacle of getting Duke home from Austrailia — Bentley would never forget that.)

He quietly wondered why they were both up on the screen. 

And then the screen went off.

Bentley whipped around, meeting the tired green eyes of Barbara rolling out from another room in the cave. “I think you’ve seen quite enough of her, squirt.”

He said nothing, but glanced back at the blank screen. “Sorry.”

Barbara rolled past him in her wheelchair. “No sweat.”

Bentley continued upstairs without another word, carrying himself, not to the den where he told Bruce he was going, but up to his room instead. Asten said for him to bring what he thought he’d need. What did he need for chasing down a supervillain?

Well, first things first — he needed to not be wearing pajamas. He closed and locked his door up tightly, changing into jeans, a hoodie, and a jacket. His phone said it was in the fifties outside, which definitely wouldn’t be super fun, but would probably be bearable.  

Asten’s rule was that he had to delete the text thread and leave his phone behind. So he did so, and left his phone on his bed, out in the open. 

He didn’t really need anything, did he? There wasn’t anything for him to bring — all he had were clothes and school supplies and toys. Maybe some of Batman’s gadgets would be useful, but stealing from the cave when he was trying to be incognito was a hard pass.

Really, all that was left would be to make it out of the Manor.

He couldn’t go out the window again. He’d have to make a new shoelace rope, and he had to make the Wayne’s think he was missing, not that he’d run away. So, there was only one obvious choice left. With everyone distracted and in varying states of consciousness, not being their typical superhero detective selves, Bentley would go out the front door.

It wasn’t the best for someone who was trying to sneak out undetected, but it would have to do. Alfred and Bruce were in the cave with Jason, Tim, and Damian, and the rest were in the den distracted by a movie. If he could be deathly quiet, he could do it.

So, with that settled, Bentley opened his bedroom door again. The hallway felt stuffier this time. Was risking his life worth it?

Breaking the Secret Keeper’s hold on his family? Stopping the downward spiral?

Yes. It was worth it.

That was the thought process that kept Bentley padding down the hall in his gross red tennis shoes from his father. He’d been sure to thoroughly hide his pajamas in hopes they would think he was really missing. He’d taken the most inconspicuous clothes from his wardrobe, in case they checked it for empty spaces. It ended up being an old black jacket of Dick’s and a blue hoodie that he was pretty sure had been Tim’s.

It was worth it for them.

He tip-toed down the staircase silently, skipping the creaky sixth and twelfth steps on purpose, before he came to rest on the floor of the entryway.

He could hear the movie playing in the den, but everything else was still. Silent.

Nico’s house was pretty much a straight shot from the Manor — they saw it every day on the way to and from school. If he went straight, he’d make it.

He inched himself toward the front door. The giant wooden mass was more than a little daunting right now, like it would break and tell everyone what he was planning.

It was worth it to save them.

His hand was suddenly on the lock, twisting it until it clicked.

He had to save his family.

He twisted the door handle until the cool August breeze flooded inside, chilling him to the bone.

Bentley closed the door, and he ran. Just like he did the first time. Through the courtyard, down the driveway, shoving himself through the bars of the main gate just like he did last year.

Bentley didn’t know it then, but the moment he stepped foot outside of Wayne Manor marked the beginning of what would become the most traumatic few days of his entire life.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

[kaygee-doodles]

This is probably the most odd question you’ve gotten, but I need to know. What do the you call this creature? The little black bug guys that curl into a ball when you poke them. Do they call them Roly Polies, pill bugs, isopods, or some other name for them? There is only one correct answer./j

When I find one in the wild: Roly Polies!

In my bioactive breeding box for them: Isopods!

In my snake enclosures: My hard workin' little dudes! Just a little guy! Itty-Bitty Teenie-Weenie Cutie-Patootie Poop-Eating Machinie

[kandlewick]

bites my hands bites my hands i cant keep myself from posting previews ok i cant i need the serotonin of posting something or ill die so heres a glimpse at my long cater fake dating fic where he uses you for clout OR DOES HE??????????? this dude is so emotionally constipated i am in love with him

"You haven't even told me what I'm agreeing to, Cater." You quickly avoided his eyes, mentally slapping yourself for the momentary weakness as your words made Cater freeze and advert his eyes as well, a small chuckle escaping him in a fit of nerves. He hid his mouth behind his phone but you could tell his lips were set in a nervous smile as he at least attempted to look embarrassed. You raised your eyebrow at him "What? Is it like, super embarrassing?"

Cater hummed, twirling a loose strand of hair between his forefinger, "I mean, I guess, yeah? It's nothing like, totes awful or anything but you're literally the only one I could ask to do this. Asking anyone else is a total no go and Cay-Cay needs the engagement. My numbers have been so awful lately and It's driving me absolutely cray-cray."

Cater looked almost cherubic with how he kept batting his eyelashes at you. It was extremely annoying how cute he looked when he was like this, like he knew he could get away with anything as long as he knew how to press the right buttons. With a heavy sigh, you slumped your shoulders and gestured for him to continue. He let out an excited whoop as he smiled, the diamond on his cheek crinkling with delight.

"Aaah~ My favorite freshie to the rescue! I owe you one~!!" Cater grinned, taking your willingness to hear him out as a sign of acceptance. He pulled you close by the shoulder and swiped at his phone with practiced precision, pulling up Magicam within seconds. You glanced up at him as his eyes seemed to gleam in excitement, his eagerness almost infectious, "So there's this fad going viral right now with this local cafe nearby that has a couples special! It's this super cute dessert that's all the rage on Magicam and I neeeed it!"

"Why can't you just get it yourself?" You ask, watching his phone screen as he continued to scroll down his feed. You noticed as well that nearly every other post was about that supposedly super cute couples only dessert and couples sharing it between quick kisses. It was almost voyeuristic with how many couples openly shared their PDA with strangers on the internet. Cater was quick to roll his eyes and tap the screen again with his finger.

"I told you, it's couples only! You have to prove you're a couple and act all lovey-dovey for them to even consider handing it over!" He pouted, "Look, you know that I can't stand sweet stuff so when we're there, I'll buy you however much you want in exchange. You can even eat the special dessert! All I want is one little photo and a small itty bitty teeny weeny lil smooch~"

[allieisacrybaby]

josh kiszka is just a teeny weeny itty bitty tiny little bitty sparkly man with an attitude