#might just be a second until my brain cooperates

[its-all-papaya]

oh no don't feel bad about not being able to update before spa!! writing should always be a way to let creativity flow, not make you cry! love your writing but don't let yourself be pressured by thinking you're disappointing someone. i'm looking forward to the sequel and tbh i'd rather read it knowing you're happy and satisfied with it, than unhappy, stressed and rushed. take all the time you need!! plus f1 summer break is coming, so whenever you're ready!! we'll be happy!! sending you a hug!! (if you want one) can i get one more snippet for the word game? maybe there's "think" in there? <3

"maybe there's 'think' in there" plz :,)

if there's one thing about anybody, nowhere lando, that boy is THINKIN. so far (~3.2k of stuff I don't despise) "think" is in there 29 times + six "thought"s just for fun. I picked my favorites for you <3

It’s bargaining when he speaks again. He thinks of grief and wants to laugh at the irony.

and

If he was a better man, his vision would blur with the intensity of the thought; he can think of Oscar now, or he can think of Oscar every time he looks at that P1 trophy for the rest of his life.

anyway ughhhh I've spent like 4-5 combined hours trying to decide what to do with the middle of this sequel and I think I'm just stressing myself out now and it's making me forget english. literally all of anybody, nowhere (minus the final part in lando's driver's room) and also the start of AN2 came so easily to me that idk really how to fix this bc I didn't have to fix anything until now. I think (me /handshake/ lando) that once I hit on a structure I like for it, I'll be back in the zone, but it's just taking a bit to get there.

I appreciate your words so much though, and this really does help ♥️ unfortunately the reason I like writing lando is because I am inside his head a bit... which is to say that there's a healthy amount of self-imposed pressure making this whole thing much worse rn. I'll get there with it, I think, but yeah. Perhaps after Spa.

thank you, hug accepted, you're so kind, i'll cry in a good way instead now abt this ask

[jesterthestar]

☆ | author's note : I KNOW THIS WAS WIRTTEN LIKE A MILLION TIMES , but in my opinion shinobu is the most interesting to look over and i think she has alot of options and opinions soo. Anw im getting bored of my current layout , so maybe remake to another character ?? The poll will be after the said hc's. I hope you enjoy this piece !! <33

. . warnings ★ : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT nsfw under the cut ; two versions : for male and female readers ; oral sex ( both reader and char receiving ) ; anal sex ; masturbation ; somnophilia ; drugging ; fingering ; not proofread.

𔓕   ..     ┊    Afab reader !

When with a female reader she is probably a switch with a lean towards a dom. Sometimes she wants to watch your frame shaking from the overstimulation shes given you and sometimes she wants to a strap deep inside of her pussy.

Shinobu has a fair share of knowledge on how to pleasure a body of a female first of all because of her medical expiriance and second of all actually trying masturbation on herself in many different ways.

Shower heads , pillow humping , edging and much more and she is going to use it on your mercilessly when you have sex.

But it will be pretty hard to get.

Shinobu sees sex as something to show emotions and love for their partner so doesn't do it from just lust , in fact it's hard to turn her on in ordinary life so you'll have to beg and basically degrade yourself in front of her , so she'll finally understand that you can't deal with the ache. Which leads up to one of her kinks !

She like watching you trying to even muster a word as you're on the floor by her while she's doing anything , legs spread , arms tied behind your back and you're on the verge of tears. You're absolutely exposed and shinobu is not willing to cooperate.

BEST SCENARIO OUT OF EVERYTHING SHE MIGHT DO TBH.

Something i think she'd practice is drugging , though only if you give her permission. She finds something attractive in you waking up because of the immense pleasure that she is serving you, watching your cunt spasm around her fingers while you're sleepish face frowns snd whines from her , slowly but surely waking up.

I feel like she isn't really into anal if her partner is a woman, she might do it if you insist or really want to try if you like it or not. To her it's unsafe and unlike males you have a hole made for it.

But if you do she is really gentle and careful.

As mentioned previously you two rarely have sex, but if you do , oh boy , you'll be fucked or fucking her hours on end.

She likes eating you out. Softly massaging your clit , her tongue gliding against your folds. She holds one of your hands to give you some sort of support.

Would do again. 10/10

𔓕   ..     ┊    Amab reader !

I feel like she'd be a power bottom or a dom.

Something about her being so small and yet making you wonce and tremble makes her even more turned on.

Doesn't like 69 , so ya'll give oral tp each other seperatly.

Shinobu doesn't suck you off much , because again she is small and has a gag reflex, so she likes giving you small kitten licks more than actually taking your whole dick into her mouth. Likes tasting the salty beads of precum on your cockhead.

Probably edges you before plopping herself onto your dick and fucking borh you and herself until her brain is numb and dead.

( im sorry i didn't have much ideas for this . )

@P1ERROST4R ON TUMBLR. Do not repost / translate / copy my work.

[flonbowe]

MAJOR BROTHERSHIP SPOILERS, ESPECIALLY RELATED TO ZOKKET!

You have been warned

So they’re like, a toxic relationship right?/hj

OK JOKING ASIDE These two are very interesting to me, and since we've known about Zokket longer, I'll be talking about him first in this thread of reblogs and posts

Zokket

So to get the elephant out of the room, I earnestly don’t believe he is just Cozette brainwashed

Like Aside from small details like the body shape being larger than she is, Zokket's voice sounding very much so different in not just the voice bleps, but in his actual grunts and noises (Especially so before his boss fight), there's things like Zokket's personality, behavior, hell he's even flat out referred to as a separate person a couple times.

Cozette after being freed only ever mentions being under Reclusa's control, and putting on a mask to become Zokket. A mask that breaks once Zokket is beaten.

The way Zokket is defeated, the way the Glohn energy flees off of Cozette's body, coupled with the fact it was specifically a mask Cozette said she donned to become Zokket, tells me outright that Zokket isn't exactly brainwashing, but instead a type of spirit or possession used to carry out Recluse's will. Now All this to say Zokket is his own person, and a very interesting person. Unlike most other Mario characters, he's a very flat character. Intentionally so don't get me wrong, that's the point. He's focused more on numbers than people. He doesn't "misremember" names, he actively doesn't care. His first proper scene is him misnaming the Extension Corps multiple times, with him getting more aggravated the more they try to correct him. He visits Shipshape a couple times through out the game, and most of those visits usually end with him mocking the idea of having connections and overall being very bitter. He's a cold cold man, and even during his boss fight he revels in making the bros hurt each other. There's also some interesting extra details via hidden logs from Cozette while being possessed, and Zokket writing his plans through her body. Quoting from those logs "The egg says its name is Reclusa. Yes, it told me its name, and that makes sense. The egg speaks directly to my brain. The egg has also shared this important truth. Loneliness is sublime . The egg only SEEMS not to move. But it definitely speaks in my brain. I now know my only calling: the resurrection of Reclusa. Loneliness is sublime . All connections will be severed. Reclusa will rule a new era of isolation. Once I have completed my task, I, too, will know the bliss of isolation. Loneliness is sublime . Approximately 284 hours, 56 minutes, and 29 seconds until the resurrection. "Beyond the Glohmatic Ray" "I have distilled the isolate energy from Spite Bulbs. That will be the source for Glohm. I can then focus and amplify it through the Great Lighthouses..." "The So-Called Extension Corps." " I met these buffoons on Slippenglide Island and employed them as generals over my army. They are intensely incompetent but loyal. Do they seek glory, or are simply afraid? They will be superfluous after the rebirth. I will need some means to dispose of them" "Building an Army" "My soldiers, my hands in the wide world, are simply junk repurposed and rebuilt. I gave them language so they might cooperate., but it is absurd to see these junk piles speak. I cannot imagine a place for them in the new world after he is reborn. They will suffer. They may rebel and become ungovernable. No matter--they are ephemeral things." after Recluse was revived, Zokket intended to torture the Zok Troops, his minions, of which HE created. Zokket doesn't just hate bonds, but seems to actively wants to break them. He strayed from his goal of reviving Reclusa by using some of the Glohm to make handheld rays to make people miserable and hate each other, instead of just using the Lighthouses for Reclusa. He threatens the Corps when the revival is almost complete, which would have come to fruition anyway had they succeeded. Zokket seems to fully understand bonds, and despises them. He's not apathetic, he's actively resentful... Except For Reclusa Excluding voice clips, the only time he laughs, is here.

His only use of positive language, and its when he's dying, where he should be at his lowest. Instead, he gets excited, happy, happy to see his Great Inspiration finally return to this world. For a man who hates bonds, he seems to have a great deal of care for his master. A master he was willing to die for, who he was destroyed for. Not even Connie, who he can't forget because of Cozette's lingering consciousness, all Zokket can muster for her is remembering her name, unlike Reclusa. So Who is Zokket? Zokket is a very cruel, bitter person. He's distant and calculating, planning and very exact, very precise ways to revive his master. But he's also sadistic, planning misery for anyone and everyone involved in his plans, for the goal of isolating the world for his master, Reclusa. a master, who he has a deep level of fondness for, the only person he actively shows happiness towards, a person who he spends his alone time with, his purpose, his great inspiration. That's Zokket (At least, my thoughts as to who Zokket is)

[astrophileous]

Derek getting jealous over Bug’s pregnancy pillow 🤭🤭🤭 he just doesn’t understand how it can be that much more comfortable than he would be. If Bug makes him snuggle with it post-pregnancy when she needs to sneak out from his arms during the night to check on the baby too? He wakes up like “????”

Nooo but can you imagine how EXASPERATED he is when Bug pulls out the pillow again when she's pregnant with their daughter/Baby Bug???? 😭😭😭

Btw so sorry for the delay, I was stressing FOR DAYS bcs my brain refused to cooperate and write (I think it's back to normal now so YAY)

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Not this montrosity again."

Derek nearly whined at the sight of your pregnancy pillow; the one you had stored safely after the birth of your son, and the same one you had pulled out of its resting place now that you were in your second trimester with your daughter. It was a gift from a friend, and Derek was never a fan of it since the first time the pillow found its way into your shared bed.

"Don't say that." You put your palms on either side of the pillow, acting as if you were cupping its ears. "He might hear you."

"Great. So it's a he?!"

"Derek Morgan, you're not seriously jealous over a freaking pillow?"

"I have the right to be when you constantly choose to cuddle with it." You suppressed a giggle when you saw the daggers Derek was shooting its way. "I don't understand why you need the pillow when you have me."

"Because, as much as I love and adore your hard panes and muscles, I need something fluffy to get me sleeping comfortably through the night."

Derek scoffed loudly.

Who would've thought Derek would ever live to see the day he found himself mourning over the fact that he was fucking ripped?

Every night before the two of you went to bed, Derek never failed in throwing the dirtiest, nastiest look in the direction of said pregnancy pillow as if the inanimate object was singlehandedly responsible for ruining his entire life. Derek couldn't be more happy to get rid of it the moment you came home from the hospital with your daughter in your arms. Unfortunately, the man soon realized that getting rid of the offensive item might be a more challenging task than he had ever anticipated in the first place.

"Bug?" Derek mumbled blearily one night as he rose from the light sleep he had accidentally fallen under.

The last thing he remembered was lying in bed with you in his arms. Something about the lull of your voice and the familiar scent of your body wash had managed to make him drift into an unexpected slumber. Derek was putty whenever you were next to him, and he was perpetually alright with that knowledge if it meant he got to keep you constantly by his side.

The bedroom was enveloped in darkness as he stirred, squeezing your flesh wherever his arm could reach. But Derek realized a little too late in his half-awake state that the softness in his hand was, in fact, not you. And it took a few more seconds for him to turn on the bedside lamp to confirm that it wasn't you who was lying in his arms.

It was the fucking pillow.

Derek grabbed the object with utter disgust, stomping through the house until he found you in the nursery. You were sitting in the rocking chair, nursing your infant daughter in your arms, when you looked up at the sound of the door opening. Your head immediately threw back in laughter once you saw the look of contempt that Derek was aiming towards the pillow in his hand.

"What's wrong, Derek?"

"I woke up to this in my arms."

"Did you have a good sleep cuddling with the pillow?" You snickered, enjoying the way Derek's frown deepened with frustration. "I told you it's comfy."

Derek scowled at your cheeky wink, refusing to relent even if deep down he had also begrudgingly started to agree with that sentiment.

After that night, you never heard him threaten to throw out the pregnancy pillow, ever again.

[peppymintdreams]

Wool You Be Mine?

Mc turns into a sheep?!

It had started like any other day in the Devildom—mild chaos, brothers arguing over something trivial, and you caught in the middle of it all. Lucifer was lecturing Mammon about his latest scheme, Leviathan was engrossed in a new anime, and Asmodeus was asking you for fashion advice.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary... until it happened.

One moment, you were standing in the kitchen with Beelzebub, offering him a snack to hold him over until dinner. The next, a strange flash of magic erupted from nowhere, surrounding you in a cloud of glittering light.

When it cleared, something was… different.

"MC?" Beel’s deep voice rumbled with confusion. He looked down, his eyes widening.

You tried to respond, but instead of words, a soft baa escaped your lips.

"What the—?" Beel knelt down, blinking in disbelief. Where you once stood, a small, fluffy pink sheep now sat, looking up at him with wide, bewildered eyes.

"MC, is that… you?"

Baa.

"Guys!" Beel’s voice echoed through the house. "Something’s wrong with MC!"

Within moments, the entire House of Lamentation was in the kitchen.

"What did you do, Beel?!" Mammon demanded, pointing an accusatory finger.

"I didn’t do anything!" Beel protested. "They just… turned into a sheep!"

"A sheep?" Levi blinked, adjusting his glasses. "That’s… actually kind of cute."

Asmodeus crouched down, running a hand over your soft wool. "Oh my Devildom, they’re adorable! Look at this fluff! MC, you make such a stylish sheep!"

"Sheep or not, we need to fix this," Lucifer said, crossing his arms. "We don’t have time for random transformations."

"Wait." Satan’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. "This might be a curse or a prank spell. Did anyone come into contact with any cursed objects recently?"

You tried to think, but your sheep brain wasn’t exactly cooperating. Instead, you simply hopped in place, your fluffy tail wiggling.

"Aww, they’re hopping!" Asmo cooed, pulling out his phone to snap a picture.

"Focus!" Lucifer’s patience was wearing thin. "We need to figure this out before—"

A soft baa interrupted him, followed by the sensation of someone picking you up.

It was Belphegor. He cradled you in his arms like a pillow, eyes half-lidded with amusement. "I don’t see the problem. MC’s soft, quiet, and cuddly now. Let’s just keep them like this."

"No way!" Mammon protested. "I’m their first! If anyone’s gonna cuddle them, it’s me!"

Levi groaned. "Are we seriously fighting over Sheep MC now?"

Amidst the chaos, you struggled in Belphie’s arms, trying to regain some sense of control over the situation. But instead of asserting yourself, you… sneezed.

Tiny sparkles erupted around you, and suddenly, your fluffy form began to glow.

"Uh, guys?" Satan stepped back. "I think something’s happening."

In another burst of light, you felt your body shift and change. Your hooves disappeared, your wool vanished, and after a few seconds, you were back to your normal human self—albeit sitting awkwardly on the floor of the kitchen, blinking up at the demon brothers.

"MC!" Beel immediately offered you a hand, pulling you to your feet.

"That… was weird," you muttered, rubbing your head.

"Weird, but you were the cutest sheep I’ve ever seen," Asmo gushed, showing you the photo he took.

"You’re lucky we figured it out before it became permanent," Lucifer added with a sigh. "Next time, avoid mysterious magical objects."

"Or," Belphie suggested with a smirk, "just stay a sheep. You were a lot less trouble that way."

You gave him a playful glare, and he chuckled

[fanta2y]

Inherently Worthy Pt. One

WOOOO im excited yall, this will be my first multi-part fic!!

The parts themselves will range from 1k to probably 3k-ish words. Since i want to keep the story flowing, I have alot already prewritten for it so updates should be fairly regular.

cw: Sorcerer!Sukuna AU, blood and injury, kinda graphic and a bit descriptive.

part two

word count: 1.1k

Blood. 

It was everywhere. 

You felt it gushing out of the particularly bad wound you sported on your side, the growing agony making your brain fuzzy and your eyes blurry. You felt it slip past your fingertips as you tried to hold the wound close. 

You could hear it as you walked aimlessly, it stuck to your boots. The red color left a trail behind you as you hobbled away from the barely survived mission. The curse was exorcised and removed from the abandoned mall. 

Which left you to deliriously wander around, trying to rack your brain to remember how to get out of this mess. 

But the blood that left your body made you cold, and it made your mind drowsy. You felt like your head had been stuffed with cotton, your eyes could barely focus on what was infront of you and each step you took felt like you were getting heavier and heavier. 

Alarm bells were ringing in your mind, you knew that if you didn’t get help soon you were probably going to die. The thought didn’t scare you as much as you thought it should, which only caused the alarm bells to ring louder. 

You fished around in your pocket for your phone, praying to whoever might be listening that it wasn’t broken. 

You pulled it out of your back pocket, wiping the sticky substance off of the screen. Revealing only minimal damage, a long crack spidering along the edges. You turned it on and went to unlock it. 

You clicked on the first contact that came to mind, which probably wasn’t the greatest idea. 

However, that wasn’t realized until the gruff voice came through the speaker. The phone hadn’t even been able to complete its first ring. 

“Hello? Brat?” The low tone washed over your ears, and you suddenly felt the urge to cry. 

“Ryo…uh..” You willed the shakiness of your voice away in hopes of not worrying him, even though you knew that he should be worried, anyone should be worried about your current predicament. 

You heard rustling on the other end, almost as if he was moving around. 

“The curse has been exorcised.” You tried, hoping to ease some of the thoughts that you knew were probably running rampant through his mind. “Almost took me along with it though.” You finished, nearly mumbling. 

“Brat, I told you that someone should’ve came with you. But no, just had to be stubborn.” He grumbled, his words were harsh but you’ve known him long enough to know that he was just worried. 

He continued on and on, but at some point, you couldn’t focus enough to pay attention. His words buzzed through your ears, but your head was swimming and the black dots were engrossing your vision. They made it difficult to process his words

You must have said something because his voice got louder, but your brain still couldn’t piece together the syllables. It all just sounded like white noise, you didn’t want to worry him. Trying to will yourself to say something, anything, but your tongue was heavy and your body didn’t seem to want to cooperate with you. 

“s’rry” was the only thing you could force out before you swiftly lost consciousness, and the sound of your body hitting the floor echoed through the empty mall. 

– 

Sukuna wasn’t scared of many things, dare he say nothing at all. 

When your as powerful as he is, you don’t get ‘scared’. But the ice cold he feels coursing through his veins, how he’s sure his heart is somewhere floating around in his stomach acid. This is the closest he’s ever gotten to fear. 

It almost paralyzed him. Keyword, almost. 

The second he heard your wheezy apology, and the concerningly wet thumb of your body hitting the floor. He felt his senses go into overdrive. Busting out of his dorm room and practically sprinting to Gojo's office. 

As much as he may detest the man and all his theatrics, he’s the only one who could get him to you quick enough before something irreversible happens. 

Facing the door of his office, not even bothering to knock. Sukuna pushed open the door, Gojo didn’t startle as the door aggressively hits the wall. He lifts his head from the paperwork hes doing, an easy smile on his face. 

“What can I do for you my precio-” 

“She’s hurt.” He cuts him off, not having time for his dramatics. The room went silent, the air thick with a tension.

Without a word, Gojo stands. The smile now nowhere to be seen, he turns to Sukuna. 

“Where?” The word serious, any trace of playfulness leaving his tone. The energy shifting around them into something cold and serious. 

“Some abandon mall, I’ve got her location.” He mumbles, fishing for the phone in his pocket. He showed it to him, the little dot blinking showing the mall where you stayed. Gojo nodded his head, committing the address to memory. 

“Hold on.” Was all the warning Sukuna got before they are warped to the mall, somewhere inside of it. The mall reeks of mildew and rotting wood. Sukuna can hear the wetness dripping from somewhere in the ceiling. 

The only reassuring aspect is the distinct lack of cursed spirit energy, its almost equally concerning as he can barely feel yours. Its just a small hum, tingling up the back of his spine. Nothing like it normally is and it only serves to make the panic bubbling under his skin begin boiling. 

But Gojo had a much more refined sense of cursed energy, and had already pinpointed your location within the labyrinth esque layout. 

With Gojo leading the way, they find you rather quickly. Sitting in a concerningly large pile of your own blood. Sukuna was at your side in a second, quickly feeling your neck and wrists for a pulse. Any sign that you were alive, that this wasn’t all the time you two would get together. 

Thankfully under his shaky fingers, he felt the soft bump of your heart as it struggled to pump the remaining blood throughout your body. He felt Gojo’s hand on his shoulder, his thumb gently digging into the flesh there. 

“Can you pick her up?” Gojo asked, albeit already knowing the answer. Sukuna gently situated your body for him to pick you up bridal style. The ragdoll of your limbs and head made him feel a sickness churning in his stomach. He noticed the long gash on your side, assuming that was where most of the blood was coming from. 

Without another word, you three are warped back to Jujustu High. 

authors note: a wee bit of a cliffhanger hehehe i hope you guys enjoyyy, im excited about writing this and i hope it turns out the way i want !! thank you guys for all the love for my writing, it really means the world to me!! thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed <33 take care of yourselves, much love !!

[neon-kazoo]

A Misunderstanding

[Context: A vigilante and a villain have an arranged, cooperative deal between them. That is, until something goes wrong, much to the vigilante’s confusion. This story takes place from the POV of the vigilante, beginning in the middle of an unrelated mission/project that the villain is unaffiliated with.]

(Warnings: threats, kidnapping, gun mention, knife violence, blood, fairly descriptive cut/stab wounds, interrogation/torture, helplessness, self-harm kinda, more language than usual, sexual harassment mentioned with implied past experiences)

Note: Technically these are ocs of mine, so if you catch any unexplained details that’s where they’re from. This whole snippet was intended to develop their dynamic, but at this point it’s really just whump lol. I just realized I had over 4000 words written that would otherwise never see the light of day so I made some tweaks to post it. If I missed any name replacements you saw nothing; there was a lot of words ok?

This is extremely long and heavier than most of my snippets, so be careful!

———

“Vigilante, grab some tubes from that room down the hall. I think it’s the third door on the right.”

I left the room to grab the materials for the project. Walking down the hall I lazily counted: one…two..

I reached the third room, and I could see the PVC from the doorway. Eyes locked on the stack at the back of the room, trying to figure out how I was going to carry so many large pieces, I missed the uninvited guest lurking beside the open door, allowing him an opportunity to catch me off guard and shove me into a wall. I opened my mouth to yell for the team but my eyes processed faster than my mouth and stopped me in my tracks.

What was Villain doing here?

I must’ve looked shocked- because I was. A personal appearance from this man could mean nothing good.

I racked my brain for any reason he might have to come find me. I came up empty. I certainly didn’t remember doing anything to him worth wall-slamming me over.

The slight ease I had at identifying the familiar face disappeared when I looked closer at his expression. There was a subtle anger painted on his usually-carefully-blank features.

“I’d suggest coming quietly,” he stated in his signature effortlessly-menacing tone. He spoke easily, like he executed an impromptu abduction every Tuesday morning.

“Come where?” I questioned, immediately suspicious. What was this?

“Somewhere to answer some questions,” he replied. His words were vague. Empty. His tone suggested I wasn’t going to get anything more out of him, but I felt the urge to press.

(Why not here, why now, what was so important?)

I knew better than to argue, but I hadn’t quite grasped the gravity of my situation yet. I shifted, ready to plead that I was in the middle of something rather important, when a knife appeared at my throat, pulling me right back down to Earth.

“Or we can skip the questions.”

Questions it was.

I walked obediently when prompted and he held solidly to my arm. We exited the building via fire escape (how did he know I was here?) We reached the doors of a black SUV parked conveniently in an alley a block over from my operation. As slowly as I could manage, I worked my fingers up into my sleeve. PSAs about the odds of surviving being taken to a second location flashed in my head but were interrupted by the introduction of a gun at my side.

“Press it, and you’re dead.”

Well, fuck.

On second thought, I actually adored second locations. I dutifully climbed into the back and used my remaining energy trying to stay calm as my hands were secured to the seat and a bag placed over my head. My bracelet was, of course, removed.

I love car rides. I tried to imagine this was just another trip, it was just….dark out. At 9 in the morning. Yeah, and I had no idea where we were going. I would be trying to think of how I was gonna play this—whatever this was—but I genuinely didn’t think I had ever risked pissing Villain off. As a result, I was painfully unprepared for whatever was about to happen. I wanted to say how unnecessary this all was, that I would come willingly if asked, but something stopped me.

Fear. Something was wrong.

It was probably just a misunderstanding.

Probably.

I lost track of time and turns, instead just counting my breaths. In for four, hold for four, out for four, repeat. I successfully held my panic at bay and was able to stand on my own two feet when I was finally pulled out of the car and led to who-knows-where. I blindly shuffled all the way through somewhere to a chair in front of a table to which my ankles were secured. My hands were left free and the blinding sack was removed.

The ceiling was covered in fluorescent lights that my eyes struggled to adjust to. I dropped my gaze to the floor, which was clean white tile with a silver disk in the center. Villain stood by the door, and apparently the ride had given him enough time to re-craft his careful features back into a perfectly smooth slate. The air in the room was uncomfortably cold, enough to raise goosebumps on my arms if it weren’t for my jacket.

A proper interrogation, but for what.

“Empty your pockets onto the table.”

He was all nonchalance now, and it was extremely off-putting. He studied me closely, and I barely refrained from squirming under his gaze. In the spirit of cooperation(survival), I obeyed the order, laying out a substantial array of multi tools, first aid, gadgets, and more onto the table top. When I finished, Villain strolled over to the table, studying the items before swiping them into a bag which he settled by the door. All but a switchblade, which he left sitting closest to his side, out of my reach.

He rounded the table to my seat, gesturing for me to slide off my jacket—which he threw by the door, much to my chagrin—and kneeling to pat the rest of me down. He found nothing.

He was silent as he returned to sit in the chair opposite me across the table.

Logic told me to copy his stare and his silence, but my anger and confusion made me reckless. The urge to speak overrode my rational mind.

“Dude, what the fuck.”

Hopefully, that statement would confirm my innocence, as it was definitely designed to do. I was not at all pissed about the deliberate jacket move, or being dragged out of an important mission against my will. Humanizing myself. That’s good, right?

“What? Are you surprised your actions have consequences? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” His voice dripped with condescension.

He placed his hand over the switchblade and I came to the sickening realization that there was a drain in the floor.

“I thought you were smarter than this, I really did.”

“What the fuck,” I repeated slowly, “are you talking about?”

He stood, and the knife was open. I ignored the blade and kept my eyes locked on his.

“I cannot defend myself if I don’t even know what you think I did.”

“You do not play dumb with me. I do not give second chances.” His voice entered a register that I had never had the misfortune of hearing before.

This was not the man I knew. This man was somehow more dangerous, and he wasn’t making sense. He wasn’t listening.

“I wonder if you keep your knives sharp,” he spoke aloud with mock curiosity, twisting and turning the tip of the blade against his fingertip. He advanced around the table and I could do nothing to stop him. This stubborn, arrogant man was about to hurt me over nothing.

I had my hands, but they could not reason with him. They could only hold tightly over his wrist as he held the knife close to my skin. Rapid acceptance flushed through my brain as reality finally registered like a heavy weight descending upon my shoulders.

If he could be stubborn, so could I.

“Fuck you, Villain.”

The tip of the blade pierced the skin of my arm and I held my mouth firmly taut. He was cutting right above where the foundation and concealer covered the tattoo on my upper arm. The leaking blood was going to ruin my careful color correcting.

Blessedly, he skipped over the rest of the upper arm and focused his efforts on my lower arm instead, which he now held in an iron grip. I hated the feeling of being grabbed but I wouldn’t show it. He did not need any more power over me.

“You’ll take a lot for that man,” he noted incorrectly as he traced down my skin with the metal.

I was at a loss.

“For who?” The pain made my words fierce. I was angry and there wasn’t anything I could do about it except let it leech into my mouth.

“I am not an idiot, [real name].” He leaned in, and fuck him.

I seethed, “Apparently, you are, since you’re spending your time cutting up someone who doesn’t know shit about what you’re on about.”

The knife plunged deep into my forearm, and I gritted my teeth hard.

“Is he worth it?” Villain taunted.

“WHO?” I demanded, still trying to guess, to figure it out before I got diced like a vegetable but the pain made my brain foggy and I just couldn’t concentrate. The knife twisted slightly, and with it brought heat and a sickening pulling sensation.

This was not what I signed up for.

The blade came up to my face, mixing blood with sweat and the salt of involuntary tears as it slid across my cheekbone.

“To think, all this time, you were just [Politician]’s bitch,” he whispered.

Affronted was an understatement, but my offense was overridden by confusion.

“Who the fuck is-“ I stopped as the gears in my brain finally started to turn, greased by the crimson dripping across my skin.

“Are you talking about that asshole counselman?”

The gears were rusty but- what was his name? CM [Olitic]? [Politi]? [Politici- Politician]! CM [Politician]. The man I blackmailed into tipping me off about low-profile cases because he couldn’t keep his hands off interns? I was getting scored like sourdough dough with my own knife for HIM?!

Villain didn’t react, just continued to drag the knife down my neck and lined it up at my collarbones. He had to cut and pull my tank top down slightly for better access.

“You’re his spy. What have you told him?” He hummed, and I took a second to gather myself despite the biting pain.

“His WHAT. Where the fuck did you get that from because let me tell you I would not kill an ant for that man let alone spy for him-”

The knife slashed over my other collarbone, and I raged.

“ARE YOU INCAPABLE OF A CIVIL CONVERSATION? LISTEN, YOU ARE WRONG. Wrong. Use your fucking words.” I wanted to spell it out. One more cut and I would be sent over the edge. “You absolute. Mother. Fucker.”

“Just a loyal. Little. Dog.”

He punctuated his dig at my supposed obedience with a hand wrapped around my throat. Possessive.

Oh, so he was trying to make me angry. I really should have seen the angle earlier because damn him it was working.

I couldn’t keep giving him the satisfaction. I took one deep breath and then another, ignoring the sting it brought up across my chest, and the restriction around my neck.

“Ask me a question, and I’ll answer it.” I looked him dead in the eyes when I continued, “or kill me and go fuck yourself.”

“What is your deal with him?”

A silent sigh of relief. Finally, something productive.

“He tips me off for counsel cases,” I explained-rather graciously might I add, given the circumstances. “He didn’t ask me to do shit for him, nor would I. I am not his personal spy. I keep the association off his back, and that is it.”

I reserved a few more choice words about his questioning techniques and waited while he absorbed my response. I sounded far more civil than I felt.

“And why would he do that for you?”

I thanked every god I knew that he seemed to finally be playing ball. Words I could work with, knives I could not.

“Blackmail,” I answered simply.

“Explain.” He raised an eyebrow, and also my knife.

“The association opened a case on him for sexual harassment. I have evidence that would prove rather unsavory for him, I hold on to it in exchange for his information. Basically, he tells me shit and I don’t bury him.” I looked to Villain expectantly. I had nothing else to say on the matter.

He tilted his head. He wanted more, or worse, he knew I had more.

My lips stayed shut.

He had a dangerous glint in his eyes when he spoke, “You don’t withhold from me.”

“Since when. That was not part of our deal.” Anger, deeper and older, burned cold inside me.

“It is now.” It was not that simple.

“I gave you enough,” I told him. I intended my words to be final. He had no right to ask anything of me anymore.

“You don’t get to decide.” Like Hell I didn’t.

“It is none of your business,” I spit back.

“I’m making it my business.” He just kept going. What I wouldn’t give to wipe that self-assuredness right out of every cell in his body.

“Cut me again and I swear you’ll never hear another word out of my mouth,” I blustered. With every fresh drop of blood, he was taking a middle finger to our entire arrangement, everything I had built.

“I highly doubt that.” He flipped the knife around in his hands. He ran his eyes along each of my new, bloody, decorative lines. Fine, maybe I was all talk. But he definitely didn’t need to know that.

“Put the knife away.” I smiled sweetly, but I was getting angry again, and I was losing the will to stop it. My self control spilled out of me in the streams of crimson blood that ran down my face and chest and arms to where it would ultimately flush down the drain and leave me defenseless. Still, that was exactly what he wanted. I couldn’t let him win.

“Or are you too scared of an equal conversation?” I challenged. Two could play at the angering game.

Unfortunately for me, Villain was focused elsewhere and didn’t take the bait. He had found a thread and he intended to pull it.

“Tell me the proof.” Impressively, he just didn’t know when to stop.

“No.” Welcome, Villain, to the hill I was willing to die on. “You cut me up for being a spy, which I’m not. I didn’t break our deal, but you just did. I owe you nothing. I will give you nothing.”

I wanted to tell him that he would never see another cooperative action out of me for as long as I lived, that he should watch his back, that he should expect to see me again soon, but I still needed to live through this and threats were definitely not in my best interests. I wouldn’t betray myself like that.

My skin burned and my arm throbbed. My heart beat aggressively against my rib cage but my adrenaline was crashing. I hurt and I was tired and I just wanted this to be over.

All that trust, and all for nothing.

Villain did not get the hint that I was done. For real this time.

When he brought the knife back, I grabbed it. I pulled it towards me to catch him off guard, sinking it inches into the flesh of my hip before ripping it from his hand and flipping the blade back towards him. He must not have thought I would do it, because he stayed close enough for me to be able to sink the blade into his stomach before he wrestled my arms under control.

A second later, I couldn’t move and I knew it was over.

“I hope it fucking hurts,” I spit coldly, blinking away my burning tears.

A flash of something–maybe surprise?– passed briefly over his face. I hoped it was fear. I needed the win. Before this all got worse.

My wrists got strapped to the chair and Villain was out the door quickly, knife still sheathed in his abdomen. I rolled my head towards the ceiling, eyes unfocused and blinking out tears. I felt satisfaction, then something darker tried to push its way to the surface.

I paid it no mind, just breathed and let it pass. That wound would not be fatal.

Exhaustion soon sent me into a state that was a pitiful excuse for rest. My head rolled forward and the burning faded into the background. I floated for an indeterminate amount of time.

The door opened, closed. A prick. I didn’t care.

I dreamt in flashes of hands and grabbing and helplessness. Fingers, digging into my arm, pressure, where there shouldn’t be-

When I awoke, I was on a cot covered in a thin layer of sweat. I was confused by the freedom of movement and the light smell of laundry detergent. I must’ve slept like a rock, because my cuts were cleaned and my forearm bandaged. I was also bundled in my freshly-clean jacket.

What on Earth-

Was this a motel?

No sooner than thirty seconds after I sat up did the door open and none other than the devil himself appear.

“I figured we’d try again,” the ghost of a grimace passed over his face as his eyes landed on me. “…differently.”

I blinked.

Unconsciousness had returned a bit of my clarity, and if I looked closely, Villain appeared…sheepish. A slight hunch, face pained like he was trying hard not to avert his eyes. Was he…remorseful?

I almost laughed at the thought, but managed to maintain a plain face.

“Uh huh,” I sounded cautiously, shaking off the last of my sleep-induced disorientation. What exactly did that mean: differently?

I gathered something had changed, but I did not voice this, knowing the man in the doorway would never bother to explain himself to me.

Instead, I added humorously, “be a shame if I didn’t believe you.”

I rubbed my eyes and smiled ruefully and he actually looked away. Villain, the original Big Scary Man, was unable to make eye contact with me. Instead, he pointed out a bathroom and said he’d be back in five minutes. The win was too good to be true.

It wasn’t until I made to slide down my waistband that I remembered the self-inflicted wound on my hip. It had also been tended to, a medium size gauze pad taped over the opening.

Now that I was once again aware of its existence, I noticed certain movements did send a shooting pain along the skin and into the fat that had been cut. I wondered how I didn’t notice it earlier. I suspected I would find stitches if I removed the patch.

Carefully pulling the elastic back over the medical tape, I stood in front of the sink, cupping my hands under the faucet and drinking until it no longer burned to swallow. Water drenched the front of my tank, but I didn’t care.

I checked my bandages and studied the open cuts in the mirror. A few had the skin held together with butterfly closures, the rest slathered in Vaseline or Neosporin. I ran my fingers gingerly along the cut on my cheek and wondered if it would scar. Keeping still had worked in my favor though, it didn’t seem too deep.

My left arm took the brunt of the damage. The rose on my upper arm was uncovered and wiped clean, and I thanked several deities it was untouched. I opened and closed my fist to make sure the hole in my forearm didn’t take out anything too important. I was no doctor, but I determined it was probably fine. Villain knew what he was doing, after all.

I studied my reflection one last time, shrugging my jacket back over my arm carefully. I took in my face, discarding the uncertainty and anger and leaving my features assured and closed. The Villain special. I walked out the door.

Villain was waiting.

He didn’t touch me, instead we walked side by side back into the room I had woken up in, which now had an apple sitting on a table to the right when we walked in. Ignoring all of it, I went straight to sit on the bed. I didn’t know what to make of his complete 180, so I drew one knee up to my chest and waited. I let a little hope trickle into my thoughts.

Maybe it just took a good stabbing to force some common sense into Villain.

He paid my refusal to sit at the table no mind and just casually tossed the apple to me after taking his own seat. The hunger I felt must have been built over many, many hours because I did not hesitate to take a bite. And another. And another. The juice dripped down my chin and I didn’t bother to catch it.

Villain respectfully waited until my more ravenous bites had passed before he spoke.

“I propose a trade.”

I just about spit out my apple. Pushing past my knee-jerk response of dignifiedly telling him to “eat shit,” I studied the man to try and determine if he was being serious. His gaze was unwavering. He seemed to be waiting for me to respond, but I wasn’t exactly in a talking mood. I felt clearer but also…off.

“Information for information,” he continued.

Wow this was a really good apple. I turned it over and studied it in my hand. A gala, maybe?

He clarified, “I want your evidence on the counselman.”

Yeah, no shit. So he does know how to use his words after all.

My apple was reduced to just a core. I supposed I had to speak sometime, lest the knife make a reappearance.

“Do you slice, dice, and drug every person you want to make a deal with, or am I just special?” I cocked my head but cast my gaze past the table towards the door.

In my peripheral, I caught his face still impassive.

“I acted on bad intel.”

Villain? Explaining himself? And I thought anger-inducing Villain was scary. Remorseful Villain was straight up terrifying. I was probably reading too far into it, just telling myself what I needed to hear, but—if I squinted—I could imagine it was an apology.

But on further evaluation, I accepted that it was all an act. Every moment I’ve spent with him carefully crafted. This was just another angle.

But what could I do about it?

Knowing didn’t make it better. The cuts were real, my fear was real, my pain was real.

In the end, I still put myself into this world, and I wasn’t going to stop.

“And what do I get out of this?” I questioned. My life? To leave? Some negotiation that would be.

“What do you want?”

Putting the ball in my court is new. Concerning. Is this a trick? How badly does he want to bury this guy?

A terrible, horrible idea hit me. I wouldn’t. I shouldn’t.

I couldn’t resist.

“Apologize.”

I stood up, walking over to the table and taking a seat, looking him dead in the eyes, and waited.

It was his turn to blink.

For what I presumed to be the first time in his life, the man in front of me had been stunned to silence.

Because of me.

Joy flooded me with the thought.

“I-“ he coughed, and I smiled with a sweetness that would send anyone without a functioning pancreas scrambling for insulin.

“My apologies,” he started, and to his credit, it didn’t sound too forced.

“For?” I pushed, and the look in his eyes suggested I was seriously pushing my luck.

I didn’t care.

“For,” he forced out, “the ‘slicing’ and ‘dicing’. The drugging, I believe, was justified.”

“You stabbed me first,” I shrugged nonchalantly, adding, “You got a pen?”

He held my gaze for a moment, before slowly getting up to retrieve a branded notepad and pen from the nightstand across the room.

He slid them towards me, and I clicked open the pen with a motion that jolted my forearm. I hid my grimace and somehow refrained from dropping the writing utensil onto the carpeting. I wrote down the number with a degree of difficulty. I pushed it towards him, but kept my fingers on it for a second.

“Wait 24, then call it.”

I could tell he wanted to ask for more details, but he wisely considered this ordeal to be over and my civility worn out.

I walked right out the door, and he didn’t stop me.

I thought about trying to get word to the team, but decided against it. I wasn’t integral to the plan. They could go on without me, and most definitely had considering the importance of the mission and the estimated time I had been gone. If they even knew I had been taken—I seemed to remember the building we were using having cameras—the chances that they would interfere in my business were limited.

So I probably had about 12 hours, give or take. Long enough for a natural nap and a rushed processing session with fuzzy pajamas and ice cream. I would have also indulged in a nice warm bath, but unfortunately I was correct about the stitches, making the whole watery adventure ill-advised.

After I had totally-effectively self-cared the whole experience away, I went out on the town.

I was making a round up City avenue when I spotted a shadow trailing behind me.

Round two, baby. Let’s go.

I stopped, and the shadow closed in.

“What kind of game are you trying to pull?” The shadow confronted angrily.

“You didn’t call the number,” I stated plainly.

“I traced it. It comes back to one [full legal name]. Do you think this is funny? We had an arrangement.” I couldn’t say why, but his words just didn’t seem as scary.

“You’re one to talk about the sanctity of arrangements. We did have one. One that you spit on. Or have you already forgotten?” I could tell he wanted to advance on me, but he was hanging back. “Speaking of which, I don’t really know when to take these stitches out.”

“So you think you can just walk away from this?”

It didn’t seem like he really believed that. It didn’t really seem like he knew what to believe.

“‘I am not an idiot’, Villain.” I threw his words back at him. It was the least he deserved. “I don’t work with people who break my trust. I made an exception. Do I need to take it back?”

He’s smarter than this, isn’t he?

He took a single step forward.

“Wow, you are thick lately. I gave you exactly what you asked for but you just can’t open your eyes and see it.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” he held the scrap of paper up in a tight fist. “I asked for evidence, and if you’re not gonna give me what I clearly asked for-”

“Put your threats away and use your brain for once. Dust off the cobwebs and whatever the fuck has you so messed up and just think.”

I wasn’t angry, just exasperated. I knew my words were entering dangerous territory, but I felt they had to be said. This was not what I was used to dealing with. A brick wall would be more reasonable.

“If I was trying to trick you, I’d give you the number of the local pizza place. If you can’t get this I can’t help you.”

A pregnant pause.

“You,” he breathed.

Finally. A connect-the-dots champion.

“Me,” I confirmed.

“Witness?”

So close.

“Victim.”

I could almost hear the click. His whole demeanor shifted, his walls building back up, self-assuredness back in place.

“I see.”

He looked me up and down one more time with newly-appraising eyes before abruptly turning around and walking away. He melted back into the darkness, disappearing without so much as another word.

Asshole.

[juyomiao]

Only ONE - sung hanbin x gn!reader

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16 ☆ one punch man

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chapter warnings: yn punches someone 😁 , written part is shit omg , yeji is mean im sorry yeji fans im sorry midzys forgive me , one (1) xanax mention

written part under the cut (~ 836 words)

this is not your proudest moment. listening in on someone's conversation, really?

but the need to know what's going on is stronger than any morals you might have. especially when you don't trust anyone in the student council except yourself. and hanbin, but he isn't being exactly cooperative lately.

"beomgyu, you always knew i liked hanbin. why are you acting like this is surprising in any way?" you aren't exactly a genius at recognizing people by their voice, but you can clearly tell that's yeji.

"are you serious? of course i knew, but that doesn't make anything you did correct! you're trying to ruin someone else's life over your feelings, if it wasn't for yn-"

something is telling you to take out your phone and record this. if you're going to snoop in someone else's business, might as well get a confession from the actual culprit out of it.

"there you go, it's always about yn this, yn that… do any of you ever get tired? if they weren't part of the student council this wouldn't have happened in the first place! it's their fault!"

"it's no one's fault but yours, yeji."

there you have your proof, you mentally - although reluctantly - thank beomgyu.

"see? you're on their side too! you hate them just as much as i do, you should be thankful i'm doing all of this!"

yeji dislikes you. you let the information sink in for what feels like an eternity, of course you knew it was like that the moment you found out she was behind all this, but you assumed it was all over her stupid crush on hanbin. no, hwang yeji just admitted she dislikes you.

you were never exactly desperate to be anyone's friend, or to be liked by everyone you met, but both of those things were never hard for you. or at least, you thought so until today.

your brain tunes out the rest of the conversation, as you silently stand right by the door, your phone still recording 

"y/n?" a voice snaps you out of your thoughts, you blink quickly a couple of times, meeting woobin's eyes. "are you okay?" you nod with a small smile "yeah, i just…"

you hear faint murmuring coming from the room, the silence enough for you to pick up a small 'they're here?' that clearly belongs to yeji.

you sigh, finally stopping the recording on your phone and hiding it deep into your backpack before something happens to it. you might be a bit paranoid, but with what yeji has been able to pull so far you wouldn't be surprised if she went that far to destroy the major evidence in your hands.

"yn!" and with that, she's back to the normal yeji you know, your friend. "hi yeji," you can't lie for shit, and everyone there can clearly tell something is up, not only between you two, but overall. beomgyu is on the verge of speaking and probably spill every single thing he found out about yeji, but you keep talking before he can "I wanted to talk to you, but you left my texts on read. is everything okay?" if she wants to act fake, you can too.

"oh about that…. i'm sorry, i had some issues with my phone and couldn't answer your texts," somehow, that small lie sets you off "you have issues overall."

"what?" you can see beomgyu trying to hold back his laughter, turning around to face the wall with a hand over his mouth. "you heard me. you have a ton of issues, because whatever stupid crush you have on hanbin, or your hatred for me, or anything else, shouldn't push you to do everything you did."

"i don't know what you're talking about, yn,"

"yes you do. want me to get the chats? or maybe i should get them from your phone," yeji rolls her eyes. it's only for a split second, but you can tell the more you corner her the more her mask slips off, and the truth will inevitably be uncovered.

the following minutes are a blur to you. yeji keeps making excuses, saying your accusations are baseless, until something tips her off. you don't know what it is, she probably doesn't know either, but she admits to everything.

she admits to stealing the money, framing hanbin, being behind the anonymous number, spreading the word of hanbin stealing through the whole school.

"he was the one who offered to help me cover it up! he felt bad i had to resort to stealing, so he said he'd take the blame if anyone found out!"

"and you took advantage of this and made sure everyone found out," you point out.

she keeps making excuses, saying anyone would've done the same in her situation - failing to realize not anyone has the morals of a rock - how you 'shouldn't act like you're so much better than her, you've probably done worse' . you don't know what took over you, but that's your last straw and, before you can think it through, you punch her.

☆ note: this was wayyy too late im sorry pookies :( i hated the written part ,, well ! see u with a new chapter in ,, whenever i have wifi again idk

☆ SYNOPSIS: sung hanbin is everyone's dream guy: perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect personality, he has it all. he's even class AND student council president! everyone loves him, and you, as his vice-president, are no exception to that. having been in love with him since you were 12, you try to tone down your feelings "for the sake of professionalism" and claim it's simple admiration for someone who objectively has no flaws. but there is one small detail you missed, in all these years admiring him: he has an even bigger crush on you.

☆ TAGLIST: (italics = couldn't tag) @hananovi @soobeaniee @idkwatodoanymore @huipinkhair @homohoons @sunnyglower @lethalvenus @sunoksunny @tocupid @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @winteringdream @ikeryn @ilovechanhee @thesiriusmap @heelanat @baekstans @blaycke @vernonfernandez @8turning @yeolsbestie @asteroidchenle @hvnyujiq @hikyeom @r4innoms @enhypen-scholarship @sulkygyu @meowrinz @rikimylove @ridinhyuck @lumixen @neohyxn @ceanairy @beomibeom @cherriegyu @sunwcloud @k4hzuhas @annoyingbitch83 @stickersim @dreamyyn @anawesomeaquatic @softforjungwoo @utopiakys @247hrs @sunswoonie @minhui896 @chanhee-hee @nxurxn @peachysohn @kpoprhia @haesunflower

[the-kr8tor]

Oh the worms in my brain are acting up again and dancing around a disco ball help me.

Dancer Hobie! x Dancer Reader!

(a better version of the step up movies/joke but I do imagine this as being hip hop! But it could be anything you prefer honestly)

The both of you go to the same studio, and you would think that would mean cooperation yet you two are like cats and dogs. Fighting every single second and minute.

Competitions are never as fun as when you get to beat him at his own game, your routine is well executed with a new surprise move you had been practicing in secret. Stunning even Hobie for just a second as he tries to pretend that wasn't the prettiest thing you've done. Your energy can be spotted from across the room, and he's gawking at it. Observing every move, your form and body.

And then you get stuck together to represent your studio at a prestigious dance competition. The both of you are disgruntled by the amount of rules until you hear the theme and the blood leaves your face.

"Passion and Romance"

Hobie handles it better than you, stone faced as he leads you and stares at your movements with a small glare. Trying to convince himself this is all just for the competition. Not because you're pretty. Not because your eyes are as delicate and tender as flower petals. Not because he absolutely adores dancing with you and holding your waist, your hand....everything. He thinks he's going insane? He must be because why do you look at him like that when he tips you over in his arms. The both of you panting from the exertion and lengthy practice.

And why is he softening up, why does he rest his forehead against yours and close his eyes? This isn't part of the routine. Why is your heart out of place. You DON'T like him, you truly don't. You think you might just need a doctor to check on your heart and open it under the table so they can find out why there's only him in it.

And so it goes on. You dance, the routine gets better. Or worse actually. It's stiff, it doesn't look good. Instead of "Passion and Romance" it's screaming "Dangers and sworn enemies"

It's only when you see Hobie crying by himself in the storage room that you soften up completely, sitting down next to him and hugging him, trying to cool him down from his panic attack. You ask him out to dance if he wants to, to practice another time so he can get his feelings out. And with a small nod he follows you back with heavy footsteps, wiping away his tears with his sleeves, into the mirrored room.

At first it still feels stiff, it LOOKS stiff. But as it goes on you both follow the others steps, going at a softer pace. Both of you are more and more in sync with the theme and music that plays. And when he goes to tip you down he kisses you. You kiss him back like he's water and he kisses you like you're the sole human left in the universe.

-🪦 wow uh ok so basically I just like lost it and the voices won. Put me in the crazy room

"You think you might just need a doctor to check on your heart and open it under the table so they can find out why there's only him in it" POETRY

AHHHHH ENEMIES TO LOVERS BUT DANCE EDITION!!!

THE KISS!!!! 🥰😍😍😍🥴🥴🥴🥴

[mythicalmagical-monkeyman]

Can someone tell my brain to sleep? Please? Undercut like always obv

@fruity-legos

Summary:

Cooper’s touch starved … that’s it, that’s the post

Additional Tags:

Brain woke up and chose violence. I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping BECAUSE BRAIN WOKE ME UP, Anyways. Mateo forgets to be physically affectionate sometimes. Touch Starved Cooper. Ficlet. headcanons. Fluff and Hurt/Comfort. The besties just cuz. no beta we die like my brain

Mateo had to admit he sometimes forgot to be physically affectionate with people. He figured that it was partially tied to his general spaciness with how he could get so tied up with his comics and the stories in his head that typical, needed everyday things like eating or, yeah, showing physical affection went right out the window. Another part of his forgetfulness was probably because between Izzie and his dad they gave him more than enough physical affection to go around. 

So yeah, it slipped his mind sometimes and he occasionally had to remind himself to give affection yet he couldn’t help but feel confusion wash over him as he wrapped his arms around Cooper and felt the other teen tense under his touch. He wasn’t that bad at showing affection, was he? 

Mateo awkwardly pulled back and looked up at Cooper. He found the blond with his eyes shut tight and shrugging his shoulders up like he was bracing himself to be hit. 

“Are you ok?” Mateo asked carefully, tilting his head to the side. 

Cooper slowly opened his eyes and glanced around before his eyes landed on Mateo for moment. Just as quickly though Cooper’s gaze flicked away. 

“Yep, I’m doing great!” Cooper responded, while flexing his fingers on one hand and using his thumb to crack the fingers on the other. Mateo knew his friend well enough to note that that was one of his nervous stims, that along with singing. 

Mateo watched his friend crack his fingers for a moment more before, fixated on why Cooper was starting to act so shifty. He was avoiding something, something relating to their hug if Mateo had to guess. 

The small inkling of a theory started to pop up in Mateo’s head and deciding to test it he reached out a hand to grab Cooper’s wrist. 

There was a squeak but Cooper let his wrist be held, and then his hand as Mateo laced their fingers together. 

“Cooper,” Mateo started, locking eyes with the other, “when was the last time you were hugged?” 

Cooper instantly looked away and for a second Mateo felt himself wondering if he had crossed some sort of boundary. 

With a hum Cooper fiddled with their interlocked fingers, rubbing his thumb across Mateo’s kuckles and then muttered, “Uhhh, I think five days ago? It was when Albert used me as a meatshield to get out of hugging Izzie,”

Mateo choked in disbelief, “What?” 

Cooper shrugged, “Meh, it’s fine. I mean Logan used me as an armrest the other day, oh and Night Hunter body slammed me too.” 

Cooper did know that last one didn’t really count as physical affection right? 

Even disregarding that last part Mateo was still left baffled, how had it been five days since Cooper had last had a hug? Didn’t his family… oh. 

“Can I hug you?” Mateo wondered quietly. 

Cooper looked back, a pout on his face and a sadness in his eyes as if he might start to cry, “Please?” 

Mateo obliged, yanking Cooper into his grip and squeezing until the blond grunted, uncomfortable with the tightness. Mateo eased up his grip a little and nuzzled his face into Cooper’s chest as he wrapped his arms around Mateo in return. 

Eventually Cooper seemed to melt into the hug completely and Mateo found himself making a mental note to start to hug Cooper more. 

[nczaversnick]

Writerly Questionnaire

Thanks to @willtheweaver for the tag!

How long have you had you’re writing tumblr/writblr? A fast and loose estimate is fine!

I’ve been here only, like, two months I think? Which is kinda crazy honestly.

What led you to create it?

I find it’s so much easier to get excited about my writing when other people are excited too. Besides I’m the face of this operation for Project Gemini and after years of failure on Instagram I gave up for several years until my roommate pointed out that I might actually like being on tumblr and I figured it deserved a fair try.

What’s your favorite thing about the community?

I love how excited everyone is about everyone else’s projects. It kinda blows my mind

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

I will answer literally any question to the best of my ability.

Also, to those of you who are big fans of specific characters (I’m talking about you @honeybewrites and @the-letterbox-archives ), I fucking love that you have a favorite. Mine and Rachelle’s favorite is Adrian, her second favorite is Iris and my second favorite is the guards talking about chili cheese fries in the middle of the big climax of Book 1. They don’t have names but they’re in every draft

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

Nothing comes to mind

WIP

Which WIP are you noodling about lately?

Well, I’ve only got the one, Project Gemini. We’re working on detailing the outline to break down what happens in each chapter. But while that’s been happening, while I’m at work I’ve been pondering what Adrian would be like in the Arc of a Scythe universe

How long have you been working on them?

I had the initial idea roughly.. 15 years ago I think? The first draft was written 10 years ago. I’m currently on draft 5 or, really, draft 1 of version 3

Do you remember what inspired them/ what got you started?

When I was 8 years old a friend of mine on the playground offhandedly made a comment some kind of magical being that was half ice and half fire. And it just stuck.

When someone asks “what do you write about?” What do you say?

Queer people overthrowing the government what else would I write about?

What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)?

I think I was pretty clear the first time lol

Let’s rotate Blorbos

Name any character you’ve created, and I mean any:

Listen I’ve been writing for over a decade. There’s no way I’ll get everyone. So here’s several:

Caspian, Adrian, Aurelia, Iris, Mason, Quinn, Athena, Lucia, Resin, Filick, Nic, Weston, Atlas, Flynn, Jacob, Lily, Audrey, Micah, Ikaris, Faldris, Helvar, Mara, Flynn, Atlas’s, Dimitri, Cyrus, Jaron, Abraxis

Who’s the most unhinged:

Good lord who even knows?

Who comes most naturally to write:

Definitely Nic or Adrian, as they’re both the oldest

Do you ever cringe at them:

Sometimes, especially those early versions of Adrian

How much control do you feel you have over them? Aka do they ever “write themselves” or refuse to cooperate or do thing you don’t expect? To what degree? Are some less cooperative than others?

Oh I don’t have any. Rachelle doesn’t understand when I say things like “I won’t know the answer to that until the little Iris in my brain bother to tell me”

Some are more cooperative than others, I feel like Aurelia is always around sometimes. Mason is impossible. He’s uncooperative both in my head and in the story, which unfortunately is very on brand for him. But it also means I know basically nothing about him right now.

To get around this I tend to write snippets that sort of circle around the actual question I want answered until I manage to get it

Do you enjoy people asking about your characters? And do you have a preferred method of receiving said questions?

Do I enjoy what is probably my favorite kind of interaction of all time?

And no I don’t have a preference.

On Writblr Engagement

What makes you want to follow another writeblr account?

Good vibes. I usually check out anyone who follows me anyway

What makes you decide against following?

Besides the obvious answer of discrimination and bigotry, the answer is also vibes. If you fail the vibe check, I won’t follow.

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

Oh yeah all the time. I keep forgetting that some people are mutuals and some aren’t lol

Tagsss:

@honeybewrites @wyked-ao3 @kittrrrr @zackprincebooks @fractured-shield @theverumproject @the-letterbox-archives @the-golden-comet @poppycat-writes @davycoquette @moltenwrites @finickyfelix @kuebiko-writing @illarian-rambling @yourpenpaldee

[blenderfullasarcasm]

TimKon fanfic starter/prompt:

Kon woke up, immediately whacked his head on <i>something</i>- he wasn't at the farm, but it took him a few more seconds to remember where exactly he was.

Which was kind of excessive, because it really shouldn't have taken him three whole seconds to figure out he was in a cramped metal box, hands tied behind his back and a glowing green collar around his neck.

Was this what a concussion felt like?

Weird.

He was gonna have to be nicer about shooting down the questionable plans Tim came up with while concussed. Honestly, it was a miracle they were even a little bit coherent.

...What was he doing again?

Kon shifted slightly, and the ropes binding his hands behind his back dug into his wrists.

Oh, that's right. He was trying to escape --

...Wait, they'd actually used ropes? Like, actual ropes?

Kon was a little insulted. He didn't rate handcuffs or zip ties?

He might not have been able to use his superstrength, but he was still pretty strong compared to a baseline human. Ropes -- even ones with five braided strands -- couldn't hold him forever, especially now that he was awake and raring to escape.

...If only he could get his body to cooperate.

His brain felt sluggish and foggy, like it was slogging through a swamp. His limbs weren't responding right, his fingers clumsy and numb as he tried to finagle his way out of his bonds.

Precise movements weren't happening, so he had approximately a cupcake's chance in a communal kitchen of untying the knots.

Next option: brute force.

Yanking his wrists apart and straining the ropes until they broke worked way better than trying to make his fingers cooperate. It took more effort than he was expecting, though, and there was a sting in his biceps that meant he'd probably pulled a muscle, which was going to suck in the morning.

He also had rope burns, which was a new and exciting experience for him.

Some of the fog surrounding his brain started to fade as soon as the ropes snapped and dropped to the floor beneath him. He shook his hands out, aiming some jazz hands at exactly no one just for fun, and tried to figure out what do next.

The walls around him were made of metal and seem to be screwed together pretty tightly, as far as he could tell. He didn't have super strength - the Kryptonite in the collar around his neck was suppressing it - but he considered punching it anyway.

Luckily, someone started prying the box open before he had to resort to probably breaking his hand.

Light broke through the widening gap, blinding him for a split second as the lid opened. He squinted and tried to shield his eyes (looked like they'd taken his shades, ugh), and a shadowy figure kindly moved to block most of the light, a set of lock picks dangling from their fingers.

"Hey, SB," Tim said. "How's it going?"

Kon could have kissed him.

"Oh, y’know." He shrugged (faux) casually, folding his arms together so Tim wouldn't see the rope burns around his wrists. "Just waiting for my Prince Charming to show up. What took you so long?"

"Rounding up my knights and the white horse," Tim said dryly, giving him a Look that told Kon he hadn't hidden shit but that Tim wasn't going to comment on it right that second because there was something more important. "Hold still, I'm going to get that collar off you."

"What, you don't think I look good like this?" Kon tried to shoot him a winning smile, but it felt a little shaky around the edges.

Tim rolled his eyes behind his whiteout lenses -- Kon could sense it -- and set to work picking the collar's lock. "You always look good, Superboy."

Kon definitely did not blush. His cheeks heating up had to be an effect of the Kryptonite. Definitely.

"You'll look even better wrapped in a blanket on the couch," Tim muttered under his breath, then tsked in annoyance when something in the collar clicked. "Hold still."

Kon held still.

...Being wrapped in a blanket on the couch sounded pretty good right now, actually. He could probably even wheedle Tim into making him some of his famous hot cocoa.

Tim was careful only to touch the collar, not allowing his gloves to brush against Kon's skin, and Kon was (pathetically) grateful for it. His skin was starting to feel too tight, like he was about ready to burst out of it, and it itched like there were ants crawling all over him.

Something else clicked in the collar, except this time Tim made a little triumphant noise and yanked it apart with extreme prejudice. "Ha! Got it."

Suddenly, Kon felt like he could breathe easy again. He hadn't realized he'd been having trouble -- and he didn't really know why, because the collar hadn't been restrictive or anything and Kryptonite usually didn't affect him that way -- until Tim was tucking it away into a lead-lined bag he kept in his utility belt for this exact purpose.

Kon swallowed.

"Thanks for coming for me, Rob," he said quietly.

Tim smiled, small and private. "I'll always come for you, clone boy."

He got to his feet and pulled Kon up with him, and Kon barely had time to blink with surprise before Tim was dragging him towards a hole that had been blown in the wall. "Come on, we need to find the others before they destroy the entire building."

Send me an ask with the first sentence of a fanfic and I’ll write the next five.

[murkystarlight]

Screw it.

Dreamzzz season2 spoilers pt.1

(And my personal comments)

Alright. Starting from episode 1

I didn't realize that Cooper having a sudden interest in chips would be a hint to something later(it probably isn't but it seems like it to me). Cooper apperantly had a full list of things to fix and make... also the Night Bureau really can't do their job done properly can they. How does Cooper go to school? And study? And get good grades?? Also love how everyone names their cars

It was cool seeing Sneak working with them. And Nova, too bad they... uh- dissapear after like... episode 4? I think

Mateo trying to find a way to get z-blob back, and the Nightmare king... why is he such an icon all of a sudden?? Like-

Also, I like that how Mateo got the kid show treatment. Might as well sing 'we're all in this together'

And Dallas joining the knitting club!!

It was pretty nice. Just a simple small detail, but I like stuff like that so... Looks like he's not going to be bullying anyone now

It was very fun watching the crows(ravens? Don't remember) snatch their memories. When I saw what the memories that was stolen were about I started screaming like-

I actually think they all have a good reasoning. Logan always loved his music(would've been better if he forgot how to sing entirely) , Cooper... well he's the tech guy, and for Izzie, she was the who accepted the dream world the fastest. Who liked it the most in the first season right? There are more cool and amazing reasons than this but my stupid brain can't think of anything else right now

Episode 2

Apperantly there's a lava realm? Cool

Mr. Oz being angry, Logan being.. well, Logan. And Cooper is just adorable. He's having so much trouble. His purpose in life kinda snap

And when everyone else just jumps into the castle, Izzie takes her time to take the stairs

And Izzie having trouble with "dont open your mouth" she's so funnn

I had trouble understanding Astrid-

Royce guy has a weird whistle.

Cooper looks so happy until his mind went blank and his face is just- 'dude wait, what was I doing?' I thought he lost his tech skills?? Why did he become... dumber? It's cute though

"Sorry-" _ Izzie

Also, Logan said a lot of smart stuff in this episode. One of my favorites was

"If I forgot it, how would I know?"

Mr. Oz trying SO hard not to swear. I could see the struggle-

And the flash cards 😭 when did they get a rule book?!!(first ep)

Also, how many eggs do you think Cooper cracked. How does he not remember how to not but a bolt and screw together?? Just- stick it in! Learn to do it again? Poor thing

And the Night Hunter! +Susan and Snivel. They're a bunch of sillies

Cooper getting pressured by his family again- (is it just me or does he get his character development after like... two episodes and be the one stable guy holding the team together? He's useful. Like actually useful) Cooper's voice also wouldn't stop cracking

"Do you ever get sand in your eyes? Or your shorts?" (The Sandman had legs?? Yes, had. He... he gone now.)

Also kinda funny how all of Mateo's dreamcrafting gets blob-ified

"The one time! I actually want to hear your beats, and you forget?!"

Zoey! Why would you randomly jump into a cauldron!! (Also, the Night Hunters memory being Zoey- I already had a feel)

Mrs Castillo is the best

I'm also very curious of... what or who the Never Witch is??

There is a lot of pushing and shoving people. And it's only the second episode

Also-

"So you're not the tech genius you used to be. You still got- ....uh.... what other talents do you have?"

Oh godddd noooooooooooo he said it- Oh god........

"I'm gonna go drown my troubles in the candy realm" (kids. Too much sugar isn't good for you)

(He can't even figure out how to put his phone on silent anymore) he got an A+ in a science project, by cooking?? I thought it was a SCIENCE PROGECT??

Imagine a kid suddenly pulling out an apron and asking for a kitchen to work in. During a science project (he's a chef now), he also just... kept the flan? Thing, in his locker-.... is that... okay?

I mean... I did watch this science show on Netflix about these super smart girls and their names being mc². And one of them bakes. Using science. I mean... science works in everything... and I guess if the teachers said okay then its.. okay?

Sandman and Never Witch fighting, he will be remembered. It was pretty cool actually. I wonder if they have any history

Next part

Bonus(also the reason of why I said screw it)

[izar-tarazed]

👁‍🗨

send me 👁‍🗨 and I'll share something related to my translation work!

Proofreading a translation takes longer than you think. More specifically: It takes longer than I think. Every. Single. Time. Even when I think I’ve accounted for it and made sure I have enough time.

My process usually looks like this: first, translating the main portion of the text (which will leave me with a bunch of untranslated words and phrases in need of revision, things where I struggle so much with finding a good solution that I leave them for later); second, reviewing the draft and addressing the open questions (more often than not, I’ll come up with solutions for those tricky parts fairly quickly if I revisit them after letting them rest for a while)… and then, proofreading.

Proofreading is where I go through the entirety of the translation, checking the spelling and punctuation, combing out typos and completely wrong words I might have put in when in translation delirium (I randomly inserted Izar at some point in my last translation project and only noticed in the proofreading stage). But this is also where I look out for anything that sounds weird. Not necessarily wrong, just weird and clumsy; sentences that one would look at and go: ‟This feels translated.”

I’m religiously tracking my time when it comes to my work, so for the first phase, I know pretty well how much text I can (roughly) translate within a certain period of time. (This knowledge was such a lifesaver last year when I ended up cancelling a project early enough to not be a disaster for everybody involved because I knew, plain and simple, that I couldn’t do it in the time I had at my disposal.)

Allotting time for reviewing the draft is harder because it varies so much. Sometimes I just have a handful of untranslated words left in a chapter and breeze right through them; sometimes most of them will even be the same expression, so it’s simply a question of settling on a solution for that, and I’m done. And sometimes I’ll have a lot to review in one single chapter and if I’m unlucky, everything will be tricky and send me down rabbit holes of research for hours.

But regardless, proofreading is the most time-consuming. I have to go through the text—sentence by sentence. I can only speed this up so much or else I will miss things. If I come across something that sounds strange, it might take me a while until I can pinpoint why it sounds strange and how I would say it in a better way. (I might have to revisit the original text and re-translate the sentence from scratch, because what was past me thinking here?) And since the task requires focus, it’s also exhausting, so there is also a limit as to how much I can get done in one day before my brain outright refuses to cooperate.

(I really don’t recommend doing it for six hours straight, as I might or might not have done this Monday due to a partial deadline and thinking, ‟oh that’s just 230 pages, I can work through those quickly”. Please take note, future me: yes, you can, but you really, really don’t want to.)

[maleyanderecafe]

Hiiii, just wanted to ask do you have any recommendations similar to Tei from ‘Nameless’ or Segye From ‘You At First Sight’? I really like the ones that start off really sweet and harmless but slowly develop cracks in their façade overtime! I have trouble finding some like them, thanks for any recommendations! (Preferably nothing nsfw ahah 🙇‍♀️)

Oh man, those are always cool to find. I'll try my best to list some like that that are SFW (though I also do know some NSFW ones, but we'll save those for another day).

Koi to Shinzou - very good manipulative yandere. Admittedly he's a bit sus in the beginning but he does show his true colors later. Very good at seeming innocuous though.

Pulsato Cordis - he starts out pretty sweet and harmless but snaps during the date. Admittedly it's not a long long time before he shows his face, but it was enough for me to forget he was one for a second.

Concubine Walkthrough - if you were that one ask who sent me this, I swear I am almost done I have to get through the last couple of chapters. It's a very VERY good isekai story and the yandere starts out more sweet (or at least protective) before going full out.

Ripe When the Flowers Bloom - shonen Ai which is very sweet, but the yandere in question does slowly push his way into trying to get him to live forever, even against his will.

My Desire for You Just Begins - another Shonen Ai, which, at least in my opinion, does a really good job of manipulating his lover to get what he wants.

A Helpless Childhood Friend - it's not really long enough to show cracks in the facade since it's a one shot, but it does sort of exemplify the idea in a short time frame.

The Male Lead is a Murderer - sort of, I mean it's not like it's NOT obvious, but I think it's enough to at least trick the main character for a while that he's a kind person.

Arisa - sort of? I mean the yandere is kind of suspicious, but he does have that kind he won't do anything to harm you energy.

Uruwashiki Shuen - again, this one is a oneshot, but does seem pretty helpful with the other male lead until you figure out why he's trying so hard to keep him alive.

It's actually harder than I thought to think of recommendations that aren't r18 since so many more stories tend to have some level of smut in it. I'm sure there are other ones, but my brain isn't cooperating as well right now. I reblogged some other ones that might also fit the criteria, which hopefully it will.

[automatayaoi]

*throws a dozen dress up clowns at your head* Character design!!! murder puppet apologism!!! chemicals turning frogs gay!!! its kero kero time!!!! i dont know how to type up a real bio so im just throwing tidbits fullspeed at your window and also partially me spitballing speghetti against the wall

✨ their name is kero pierrot ofc, and they are a funny little frog clown married to arlequino hehe. keeping with the theme of commedia dell'arte their name is based off the character of the pierrot (and it's also a pun on keroppi since theyre my favorite sanrio character waha)

✨ the Pierrot was a tragic and lovesick figure, portrayed as naïve but endearing, often hiding their true feelings behind their jokes, and was a popular choice for romantic artists

✨ kero is a widdle bit fucked up in the brain zone but its FIIINE just slap a coat of face paint on there and ur good 8) Do not perceive the crushing mental illness behind the curtain

✨ grew up in america ofc, came to japan for reasons that turned out to be highly fallible (they maybe trust people a little too easily), refuses 2 talk abt this, they are however lacking in places to stay and money to spend so start of everything theyre Struggling A Little

✨ at this point they arent even kero really just Person...pathetic sopping wet frog you find under a rock. they had a special interest in clownery but always sort of put those kinds of thoughts to the side as more of a silly daydream than a goal they could achieve

✨ a clown without its nose have you ever seen anything so sad

✨ they first see masaru and the rest of the nakamichi circus when they saw them perform their street show (starting here), they just happened to be in the park at the time, and it's honestly the first time kero has felt happy since they Arrived in japan

✨ magic of the circus

✨ they spend the next few weeks going to the park and sorta following the nakamichi circus around to see more of their street shows, they don't really have much else to do anyway, they might as well spend some time having fun watching a circus act

✨ they attend so many that they actually start getting recognized by some of the circus members, especially masaru and shirogane since theyre very Perceptive. not a lot of details on those thoughts currently but masaru probably does his Main Protag/Therapist thing and gets to know kero

✨ BUT the way they actually join the nakamichi circus is during the performers meetup (starting here), kero goes to see their show again, but then things start Going Very Wrong and masaru's left by himself with no one to perform with. Little guy problems

✨ they've seen how much masaru and the others have been working and struggling in the past weeks, improving their street show, their cooperation with each other, and even if masaru hadn't talked to them they couldn't stand seeing something that made them so happy go down in flames like this

✨ SO! they hop in with vilma naota and mitsuushi to save the act! they don't have circus training like them so they can't do any fancy acts, but kero knows how to improv and roll with the punches, so they play off of the others as second zanni to liven up the show

✨ after that, i think they'd try to slip away quietly (kind of cant believe they did that) but masaru goes after them and asks them to join the circus!

✨ he knows that they wanted to be a clown, and even without formal training, he thinks having a western style clown will help the nakamichi circus stand out from the crowd! (also a call back to this moment in the manga when they went to see the straw circus)

✨ this is when they actually introduce themselves as Kero Pierrot to the others. there is no other name only Clown

✨ this has been a lot of masaru talk so far sorry he's my little buddy inflicted with main character disease. also i dont get a chance to meet my husband until like chapter 380 so i gotta be doin smth in the mean time

✨ from here on, kero sticks with the nakamichi circus as their new home :) they already knew a lot about clowning, but they really throw themselves into studying it as best they can (usually by spending hours at a library computer since most don't really have a textbook on clowns) and also training with the other members to sorta expand their repertoire. they get a lot better at the classic clown skills, your juggling, your balloon animals, what have you, BUT they also start to learn the cyr wheel!

✨ kero and masaru bond over doing circus training together. i give him a little noogie.

✨ they become pretty close with ryouko and lise too !! i jus love all my circus family i get them to play board games with me

✨ Peaceful Life (Until Its Not)

✨ this post as already gotten so long (and also i wanna reread some parts of the manga to refresh my mindself) so at some point i will expand on kero's feelings irt masaru running away and narumi joining nakamichi circus, but theres a couple other important points i want to make :V

✨ kero sorta takes a back seat with the rest of the nakamichi gang until they show up at kuroga village

✨ Specifically they join lise heima and ryouko in going to mont-saint-michel to follow masaru (they are NOT!!! letting these children go off on their own to fight!!!!)

💕 this is when they meet arlequino hehe 💕

✨ they stay by ryouko's side while they fucking Book It form the shirogane-o, and that's when they run into arle

💕 sorry ryouko but I'M the one who smiles at him 💕

✨ i should make a separate post of the manga panels i'm def in. and/or rewrite the scene as a fic which i might do at some point but just wait

💕 anyway this post is long enough so all you have to know is we get married and now hes my malewife Arlequino Pierrot 💕

💕 tagging my karakuri buddies @dissonantyote @lameassboyfriend (i hope dats oke)