#no but i think its good to talk about this stuff

[lymtw]

Sweetness

(Toji and His Shy Girl)

It's two in the morning when your eyes blink open from your very brief slumber. Your eyelids feel heavy as you hold them open, but it's nothing compared to the grip your strong craving for something sweet has on you. Toji's soft snores fill your ears, along with the rustling of the blanket as you flip over onto your other side to face him. You move slowly, careful not to make any disruptive movements.

Your vision is limited in the darkness of Toji's room, but the few minutes that you've been awake now has allowed your eyes to somewhat adjust. You can see how handsome he is, even while he sleeps. His lips form an involuntary pout, his dark eyelashes rest against the bags under his eyes. You don't feel as nervous to proceed with your plan of getting your early morning craving handled.

'He's not awake, he's not looking at you...' you think to yourself as you lean forward to press a light kiss on his cheek. Your heart stutters as you lean back to see if that did anything.

Nothing.

So, you go again, with less caution this time because he's in a deep sleep. You leave a few more kisses on his cheek, a couple on his chin, and then, one on the tip of his nose, before leaning back to see your progress. His quiet snoring has subsided, leaving only soft breaths to escape his nose.

You continue on with the soft butterfly kisses on his face. Your lips brush the point of his nose once more, and then you leave the ghost of a peck on his lips, before going to his cheek, again.

This time he hums, right before pulling you in and holding you like a bear protecting its cub.

"Toji," you whisper, tilting your head to try and look at him.

"Mm," he simply grunts, not opening his eyes.

"Can we go to the store?"

He sighs through his nose, a sound riddled with the sleep that held him just a couple minutes ago. "You sleep talking, baby?"

The thought makes a faint smile appear on his lips. You? Dreaming about going to the store with him? It's adorable.

"No, something sweet sounds really good right now. Like some fruit or... I don't know."

A soft hum is his initial response, before the fogginess of his sleep ridden brain clears a little more. "You can't wait a few more hours, doll? It's pretty early and you won't go back to sleep if we get you something sweet," he tries to reason.

He's right. The fact that you woke him up for this makes you feel a little guilty. "Oh... yeah. That's fine. I can wait," you mumble, ready to curl up and try to sleep off your want for something to snack on.

Now he feels guilty. You hardly ask him for anything, and though he feels strongly about you getting a consistent amount of sleep, he knows that it wouldn't kill him to let you have this.

A few seconds go by and you've settled in his arms, again. "Hey, baby," he calls, dragging his fingertips over your lower back. "Gimme a kiss." It's not a test or a way to persuade him. The delicacy of your sweet kisses is not to be taken for granted, but maybe it made him feel worse when you slowly scooted forward and met him halfway for a little peck. You didn't even hesitate to fulfill his request.

"Another one," he murmurs, allowing himself to be selfish with this seemingly endless fountain of your affection. Normally, you're hesitant or nervous, but with you being half asleep, you must not really be thinking about it. "One more," he hums, awaiting the feeling of your lips pressed on his, again. "Mm... that's good stuff, pretty baby. Always the sweetest thing for me, so I think..." he murmurs, his voice audible only between you and him, "...we should go get you something sweet, hm?"

"Are you sure? I really don't mind-"

He cuts you off with another chaste kiss. "I'm sure. You should wake me up like that all the time."

You laugh. "But I don't usually wake you up."

"Well, I like the way you did it just now. All kinds of soft. You wake me up like that and we can do whatever you want whenever you want."

"Okay, then," you agree.

"Put on the dress and we'll head out," he says, referring to his hoodie that you spent most of the night in before you climbed into bed with him. It looked like you were drowning in fabric and Toji was loving every minute of the view. The sleeves hid your hands, effortlessly, and the hem reached your thighs. It fit like a short dress on you.

Toji watches you after putting his shirt on, as you lift the almost heavy material over your head and pull it down, your arms not filling the sleeves once again and your shorts getting lost underneath the fabric. You pull the hood down and it sticks out behind you on its own.

"What?" You ask, in response to the smirk curled on his lips.

"You're not real," he says, stepping towards you. "You just get devoured by my hoodie." He tugs at the front a couple times, observing your face as it slowly deflates and presses against you again. "That's fucking precious."

You're speechless. Your cheeks feel like they've been scorched. You can still vividly feel the way he pulled on the front of the hoodie, gently grazing your stomach.

"I won't forget my sweater next time," you say, deflecting his affectionate words.

He sighs, heavy, pretending to be conflicted. "It'd be a shame if it just... I don't know, got lost when you thought you left it on my couch. Don't you think that would be so unfortunate, doll?"

You hum affirmatively, unable to suppress your grin at his mischievous plan.

"So, I think it's safer to leave your pretty sweaters at home and i'll keep you warm here. I'm doing a pretty good job so far, huh?" He says, letting his eyes roam over you from head to toe.

"Okay, fine," you agree, leaving the room with Toji to retrieve your shoes.

"Fine?" Toji says, entertained as he watches you float along in his enormous hoodie, towards the mat where your shoes and his shoes are. A low, amused chuckle leaves him as he slides into his slippers right beside you. "Sassy baby."

"What? I'm not sassy," you defend.

Toji loves how you look in this moment. Your tired eyes, the smallest, practically nonexistent tinge of hurt in your expression, like you can't stand the idea of being anything other than sweet to him. It's like he bopped you on the nose with a rolled up newspaper and called you a bad girl.

"Not often, but i've witnessed you in sassy mode a few times. You mimic people under your breath when they're being annoying, make a little face and everything."

You thought you were being sly, turned away from him each time you did it, too, but clearly you've underestimated how much of his attention goes to you.

"Oh," you utter, mildly embarrassed.

"It's funny," he says, reaching behind you to grab his keys from the hook they hang on. "You're still my sweet girl... even when you wake me up for snack runs." He mutters the last part, and grins when your expression goes guilty.

"We don't have to," you say, again, smiling softly to show that you really would be okay with him changing his mind and crawling back into bed.

"I'm just messing with you," he says, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "It's gonna cost you a kiss to get that door open, though."

You're tentative about the price. It's a trap. You know it, he knows it, even the walls know it.

"One kiss?" You ask, even when you see the deceit in his eyes and his sly smirk.

He nods. "Just one."

"Okay," you agree, voluntarily walking into that trap you had acknowledged.

The second you feel his arms around your waist, you know you were right. It starts out as promised, a single quick peck, but it quickly turns just as you thought it would. It's as if that single kiss activated his addiction, because one kiss turned to two, then three, until the fourth when you couldn't hold back your giddy giggles. You lean back, never really leaving the cage that is Toji, because he just leans forward and chases after more of your sweet kisses until you can't reciprocate them anymore, completely overtaken by his affectionate attack.

With a final elongated kiss, planted smack on your lips, he lets up and allows you to recompose yourself. It's one of his favorite things to do for a reason—you glow like the sun right in front of him, your unabashed laughter is fueled by something so pure and genuine. You know he's greedy with your affection, and yet you still take that chance every time he says "one kiss."

"W-Was that enough?" You tease, struggling to hold back your laugh.

"To open the door? Yeah. For me? Mm..." He smirks. "Not even close, doll."

So you do him one better, and stand on your tippy toes, a signal Toji picks up and acts on. He leans down again, doesn't cage you in this time, and waits. You close the distance between your lips and his, once more, holding it for a few seconds to ensure that your affection is properly sealed and felt by him. When those few seconds are up and your feet are flat on the ground again, you smile through the nerves. Your cheeks grow warmer as you wait for Toji to unfreeze and say something—anything.

"We're leaving, but when we come back, I want at least twenty more of those. Got it?" He says so seriously that anybody else would think he was scolding you for what you did.

"Got it," you respond, lips twitching amusedly.

"Alright, let's go," he says, nodding towards the door, feeling more motivated to get you that sweetness you craved than before.

[nekonaps0]

Hiii, first time requesting smth from you but i LOVE your work! Its just so easy to read, its descriptive but not too wordy, which is a pet peeve of mine for fan fics lol.

Anyway, could you write a reader/idia of an unlikely pairing? Like the reader is almost a polar opposite of idia but they somehow manage to get together?

Thank you so much! And again, keep up the good work <3

Out of my league

✦fem!reader

✦characters: Idia

✦Social anxiety (Idia), fluff overdose, Idia overthinking literally everything

The first time Idia Shroud noticed you, it was because you were loud.

Not in the annoying way. Not in the “make him mute the game” way. Just…so present.

You moved through Night Raven like you belonged in the center of every scene: laughing in the dining hall, calling out to people in the hallway, showing up to class with glitter on your face and a joke in your mouth. You wore the loudest colors. You clapped when you laughed.

You were, in every possible way, a walking migraine to his quiet existence.

So why, in the name of all things, did his stomach do a weird little flutter every time you passed by?

It started with an accident. You had wandered into the Ignihyde dorm looking for Ortho who adored you, naturally and you got lost.

He panicked when you suddenly knocked on his door and you just stand in his doorstep with a big smile. Not because he didn’t want you there. But because his room was a disaster of cables, figurines, wall-to-wall monitors, and one very red, very reclusive housewarden in pajama pants…

You looked around with stars in your eyes and said

“Holy crap, your room looks like the inside of an anime opening! This is SO COOL.”

Idia glitched.

Like, emotionally glitched.

No one ever said his world was cool. He spent years trying to keep it separate from everyone else’s.

You plopped down on his beanbag chair like you belonged there and pointed at one of his favorite rare figurines.

“Is that the limited edition figurine from that new anime? One of my friend has one. He says it’s cursed.”

He choked on his own spit.

You grinned. “So… are you cursed too?”

He didn’t know what to do with that.

•

You didn’t stop visiting.

At first, Idia assumed you were just being nice, or maybe doing some weird social experiment to see if he’d explode.

But you kept showing up. Kept dragging him into sunlight… metaphorically, thank the gods… and demanding his opinion on things.

“Would you still like me if I was a worm?”


“Which anime would we be the power couple in?”


“Should I dye my hair blue to match yours, or would that be cringe?”

He answered in stammers and soft muttering, while his hair burned pink like he was about to self-combust.

You made it worse by leaning in every time.

Like he was worth listening to.

The thing about you was: you never asked him to change.

You didn’t force him to go to parties. You didn’t drag him into crowds. You just… showed up. With snacks. With stories. With shiny trinkets and strange animal facts and the warmest presence he’d ever known.

And somehow, despite all odds, Idia started opening the door before you knocked.

One day, he asked.

“Why do you… like hanging out with someone like me?”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You’re, like, sunshine and shouting. And I’m… basement gloom and digital ghosts.”

You tilted your head, lips twitching. “And yet, here you are, warming up to me like a lizard in a heat lamp.”

He short-circuited.

But you weren’t done.

“You don’t get it, do you? You’re easy to be around. You don’t fake things. You care about stuff…like, deeply. And when you talk about the things you love? You glow, Idia. You’re brilliant.”

He stared. Speechless.

And then you kissed his cheek. Casual. Soft. Like it wasn’t the biggest moment of his life.

“Also,” you added, winking, “you’re cuter than you think.”

Idia was red for six hours straight.

•

It took time…weeks…months, loaded silences and soft heartbeats, but eventually…

You were curled beside him on the bed, watching a boss fight. You shouted excitedly when he landed a crit. He blushed. You cheered. He muttered something about how his “damage stat increased just because you were watching.”

And then, quietly, tentatively, he took your hand.

“I don’t… I mean, I didn’t think… someone like you could like someone like me.”

You turned and kissed the top of his head.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Shroud. We’re a legendary drop—rare, chaotic, and somehow exactly what we needed.

..............................................................................................................................

Hiiii~ I hope you like it ✨

[mindless-existence1]

Kpop Demon Hunters

Humanized!Saja Boys x Reader Headcannons

Summery: Fluff and Smut headcannons about the Saja Boys as boyfriends (separate)

Authors note: I FINISHED WRITING THIS AND THEN IT DELETED AND I HAD TO REWRITE THE WHOLE THING anyway requests open

This includes Jinu, Baby, and Abby pt2 will have Mystery and Romance

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

Jinu Fluff

Hes the most used to being a human but that doesnt mean hes any good at the whole dating thing.

When you first start dating any of his "smoothness" goes straight of the window and he becomes very nervous around you

Eventually though he becomes more relaxed and really shows his true self.

I think his love langue is a mix of gift giving and physical touch

Hes the type of guy to see something that reminds him of you and he gets it

Doesn't let you pay for anything cuz hes there for you

And being an idol is a stressing thing so especially after a big preformance all he needs is to cuddle

His favorite thing is cuddled up under a huge blanket after practice and just getting to have a break with you

Jinu smut

Definitely a switch in my mind he has that dominant vibe but there are times he wants to be taken care of

After really good performances hes dominant, hes on an adrenaline rush and feels on top of the world

I see him as a soft dom because hes worried hes going to hurt you in some way

But if he gets really mad or upset he just needs a good fuck and he just lets himself go

His aftercare is immaculate tho dont get me wrong he cleans you, gets your anything you want/need, a hot bath, etc

The opposite though is when hes upset and wants to get taken care of.

Other times is when hes tired from a preformance or practice.

Kinks he has:

Over stimulation: This shows up in when hes taking care of you and tries to get as many orgasms out of you as he can

Dirty talk: When hes worked up he cant stop talking, he'll whisper in your ear when hes pounding into you

Praise: whether hes top or bottom he'll praise you but also likes getting praised when hes a bottom it makes him come so fast.

Baby Fluff

Very straight forward with how hes feeling I dont see him as the innocent "baby" figure he shows

Despite the fact we know "all demons do is feel" his feelings for you are...different. Demons arent really used to romantic attraction.

So even though hes confident doesn't mean he knows what hes doing. After the first few dates he starts to figure things out.

Its a lot of trial and error but one you get into the groove of things its great.

His love langue is quality time, since he is busy a lot whenever he gets to actually hang out with you its his favorite thing

Definitely a pda enjoyer, hes likes showing you off hes a prideful man and hes proud of his partner

One thing he really enjoys being in a relationship is the comfort that comes from it.

At the beginning he wasnt sure what he was feeling but he now enjoys the warm fuzzy feeling he gets when he sees you

Baby smut

A dom. Thats the truth of it.

Like i said hes not innocent and to be honest I can see him as the freakiest of the group.

At the very least hes a power bottom, there are times he is too tired to do all the work and controls from the bottom.

But whenever you want to take charge he lets you just so he can tease and give condescending praise/degradation

"Aw my poor baby, are you all tired? Already we just started. Do i have to do everything around he? Just be the good slut I know you are and let me fuck you yeah?"

His aftercare is amazing he'll code switch entierly and become his most affectionate after sex

Kinks of his:

Bdsm, hes the freakiest and is into a lot of stuff that falls under this category, hes up for almost anything and gets off to you letting him do all that stuff he wants

Dirty talk, hes a rapper very good with his words and it comes out here, like i said before he is into degradation and a mix of praise but hes very talkative

Public sex, not directly in the public eye but he gets off to being risky and doing it in places theres at least a small chance someone finds you

Abby Fluff

Hes like a really big himbo teddy bear. Unde the beefy abs hes just a baby.

Like Baby and the other guys (except Jinu) hes not used to romantic attraction at all so hes very attentive in learning how to be a good boyfriend

Very protective as well hes the type of guy to always have a hand on your waist or holding yours when walking or in a crowded space

Likes to show off his strength and just kinda in general so sometimes he'll just pick you up or will do something for you randomly to show off

Love langue is physical touchs in words of affirmation. Hes a big dude so a lot more to cuddle and he just likes the closeness of it.

He always has a hand on your in some way whether that be your thigh, waist, back, hand, anything he just likes being close and that touch is nice.

Words of affirmation is more receiving then giving he really likes hearing that hes doing something right as a boyfriend and you love him

Abby Smut

A service top. He lives to serve and in bed he'll do anything you ask anything you want he'll do.

One of the easiest to get to bottom, hes there to please and rarely indulges in himself so bottoming doesnt change much for him.

I feel hed be a bit worried to hurt you because hes beefy and he was a demon so that keeps him from being rough as well.

When he gets overwhelmed by emotion (anger or sadness or happiness or whatever) he will get a bit more rough but its followed by the best praise

One of the best at aftercare, he'll do everything you ask whether its rubbing your sore legs or getting you snacks

Kinks he has:

Mirror sex, not a kink persay but he really likes doing it where he can see everything thats happening not just his pov

Different places, likes having sex in different places either around his room or "house" (its more of a penthouse i perfume but whateves) not in public like Baby but he likes knowing your his everywhere

Mutual masturbation, he likes seeing you masturbate. Not only does it turn him on but he also gets to see what you like and talk you through it

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

Pt2 with Romance and Mystery is coming comment if you want to be tagged in it!

[sillygoose067]

hii there! not sure if you’re accepting requests at the moment but if you are could you write something with lewis and this viral tiktok trend of the current boyfriend? i’ve read your couch cuddles fic and it was so perfect and i think you could write something really cute with this idea 🥰

Hello lovely reader, thanks for this request! My requests are definitely open and I'm accepting, but I'm a little slow with responses, sorry 😓

I'm really glad you liked Couch Cuddles and saw some potential in my writing for this particular request. I hope it met your standards!

———————————————————————————-

Mangoes and Mistakes

Lewis Pullman x Reader

You’re sitting on the couch, your legs crossed, hoodie sleeves pulled halfway over your hands, and Lewis tucked beside you — hoodie on, socks mismatched, lazily curled up with a book and a bowl of sliced mango on his lap.

Your phone’s already recording. Propped up against a candle and a crumpled tissue, just for this little lip balm review.

“Okay,” you begin with a conspiratorial grin. “Mini review time. We’ve got the new Laneige Glowy Balm — Sweet Candy flavor.”

Lewis glances at you with a tiny amused noise, as if to say here we go again, but doesn’t look up from his book.

You lift the balm to the camera. “Smells like candy. Cute packaging. Pricey, because of course it is. My current boyfriend says I have five of these already, but he doesn’t understand skincare so we ignore him.”

You don’t even pause as you say it. You’re "too busy" evaluating texture and scent and whether the lighting’s good.

But Lewis does.

You don’t notice it right away, not until about ten seconds later — when your voice kind of echoes into a weird, uncomfortable quiet.

You glance sideways.

He hasn’t turned the page. His gaze is cast somewhere lower now, somewhere between the floor and the curve of his own wrist. The hand holding the mango bowl is suddenly still. The air feels like it’s holding its breath. One hand is clenched slightly around the edge. His jaw’s tight.

You pause your talking.

“…What?” you ask, still half-smiling.

He sets the book down.

Just gently closes it, like he suddenly doesn’t have the attention span to hold it open anymore. His body language has folded in on itself — book now shut, thumb pressed firm against its spine like he’s trying to steady something deeper than paper. His mouth is drawn, the muscle in his jaw shifting like he’s chewing on something he’s not ready to spit out.

He shifts the bowl of mango off his lap and leans forward slightly, elbows on his knees.

And he’s quiet.

“Lew?”

Still nothing.

You reach out and nudge his shoulder. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

He breathes in slowly and lets it out all in one go. “Nothing. I’m just…” He shrugs. “Tired, I guess.”

“Did you mean that?” he says quietly, and the softness in his voice is the kind that only comes with injury — not rage, not even anger. Just confusion and a little hurt. The kind of ache that sounds like someone trying to convince themselves they didn’t hear what they heard.

You blink. “Mean what?”

You study him. The way he won’t look at you. The little crease in his forehead. The tight set of his mouth. And suddenly your stomach drops.

He gestures vaguely, like it physically stings to repeat it. “The… ‘current boyfriend’ thing.”

You laugh. Light, automatic. “Oh my God, no, babe — it’s a TikTok trend. People do it as a joke. It’s not serious.”

He doesn’t answer.

You sit up straighter, your heart in your throat.

He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s fine. You were probably joking. Doesn’t matter.”

“No, hold on—” You stop recording. “Babe. Seriously. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just a trend. People say it to be sarcastic.”

“Yeah,” he says, voice quiet, almost flat. “I get it.”

You stare quietly at him for a second. “Then why do you look like you just got gut-punched?”

That’s when he finally turns to you — eyes rimmed slightly red, not teary, just… hurt.

“Because it’s you,” he says. “And when it’s you, I take stuff seriously. Even the jokes. Especially the ones I’m not expecting.”

The room is too quiet now. The balm feels heavy in your hand.

“I didn’t mean it,” you whisper.

“I know you didn’t. But hearing you say that — like I’m just temporary — it felt real. Just for a second. And I hated it.”

He leans back again, blinking hard like he’s trying to swallow it down, not make a big deal out of it — but it is a big deal. You can see it in the way he’s holding his shoulders, like he’s trying to take up less space.

You toss the lip balm onto the couch and climb into his lap, into the space that’s always been yours, and rest your forehead against his like you’re trying to will your sincerity into his bones.

He doesn’t resist. But his arms don’t come up right away either.

“No. No, I don’t. think you're temporary Lewis, I swear to God. That was just me being stupid. I didn’t think. I saw the trend, and I — look at me. Please,” you say softly.

He does. Barely.

“You are not my ‘current boyfriend.’ You are my person. You’re it. You’ve always been it. You’re my everything. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t even think — I was just trying to be funny. It wasn’t about us.”

He finally lets his arms wrap around you, slowly, like his body’s been waiting for permission.

“You promise?”

You cradle his face between your palms. “I promise.”

You feel his breath against your shoulder. “I just… I think I feel stuff too much when it’s you.”

“Good. I want you to feel it. I never want to hurt you with something that dumb again.”

His smile is small. Barely there. But it’s a start.

“Delete it?” he asks, voice muffled.

“Gone,” you say. “And next time I’ll call you what you really are.”

He raises a brow, still sad-eyed but curious. “Which is?”

You lean in. “Endgame.”

That gets the tiniest exhale of a laugh.

And then your lips are brushing, kissing — mouth to mouth, wordless, steady. It’s slower now, unhurried, as if the apology is still unfolding through the softness of your lips. He tastes faintly of mango, sweet and ripe from the bowl he’d abandoned earlier. And you, with your ridiculous Laneige balm — you taste like fruit and candy and something that should make no sense at all but somehow does, because it’s you.

He lingers in it. Kisses you like he’s trying to memorize the contrast, the saccharine sweet of mango against glaze, the warmth of your body against the ache he hadn’t even realized was still in his chest. One of his hands drifts to the side of your jaw, thumb brushing just under your cheekbone like he’s still grounding himself in your presence.

You sigh into his mouth, quiet and open, pressing yourself closer, and that’s when his grip shifts.

Without warning, his hands slide firmly to your hips and he rises in one fluid motion, lifting you effortlessly with him, arms strong and sure beneath your thighs as you instinctively hook your legs around him.

Your breath stutters. “Lew—”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just carries you down the hallway, eyes dark and steady, jaw tense — with something akin to possessed.

When he finally speaks, it’s low and certain, a murmur against your temple:

“I’ve got a lifetime’s worth of proof to leave on your skin. Don’t ever call me temporary again.”

You swallow, breath caught somewhere between your chest and your throat.

He kicks the bedroom door open gently with his foot, because this has all become muscle memory — you in his arms, lips kiss-drunk and trusting, his name echoing back against the soft hush of the walls.

By the time he lays you down, the hurt is long gone.

All that's left is him.

[willwasnotfound]

Other kind of demon

DAAAAAMN, I just invented this today and it's waaay crazy that it has so many likes :'v (at least for me) Thank you everyone for reading this, I promise I'll do my best to give you all whatever you want, again, sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language! Prologue, Chapter 2

The souls you left behind

Calling Y/N the new member of huntrix was both wrong and correct at the same time, she still sang by herself, but started to release a lot of songs with the girls, and that was enough for the fame of both to increase.

She not only was a great singer, she was great at composing and writing, she made up song for both, Huntrix and her, loving the recognition it got her.

Pop/Stars was just the begining, she wrote more and more, ironically, More was the next song she wrote, inviting a chinese singer that was also rising up on the industry, making it one of the biggest hit on the charts.

Tonight Huntix had an important show, it would be the last before taking an important break that they needed reaaally bad.

“Everyone look alive.” Bobby, the manager of the group, said to the concert staff backstage making sure everything is perfect for the performance of the group. 

“All right. Looking good over there. Okay. Ready? Ready. But where are the girls?” Bobby, double checked everything around the arena and looked on his phone to see any updates from the girls. 

“What? What? Where are they going?” Only to see on his phone that the plane of Huntrix was going out of track on its destination. "Y/N! Did the girls told you something??" Bobby kept freaking out, searching the mentioned girl.

"I think they just might have problems." Y/N called the girls, and they answered quickly.

"Hi Y/N!" The tree girls greeted her with a smile, then Bobby as he appeared on the screen too. "Hi Bobby!"

"Yeah, hi! Uhm, what are you doing?" Y/N passed her phone to Bobby, just leaving to backstage and prepare some stuff, she already knew what might happen. "We're about to eat our preshow ramyeon." Rumi turned the phone to show the food they had on their jet.

"Pre-show? What about the show-show?" Suddenly, the phone was stealed from him from some fans, and he foughted to have it back.

Then Y/N appeared again, helping Bobby to have the phone back and also talking with the girls. "Hey, need some help opening?" She quickly appeared on the screen, to which the girls nodded.

"Yeah, I think we've got a plague." Mira turned to face the flight attendants clearly annoyed.

"We owe you one!" Zoey smiled brightly to then end the call.

"So?" Bobby stood aside from her, trying to calm down, if Y/N was calm it was probably a good thing.

"I'm going to open the show, don't overthink, 'kay Bobby?" Y/N went straight to the stage. "Please, put on the track." She talked to a staff behind Bobby, he only nodded, and encouraged Y/N.

The fans were screaming in excitement, they had expected her to be there, yes, but not that soon, and as the final note rang out she signaled to the sky, noticing the figures of the main evente and calling for the public to also look at them.

"Look up at the sky, I present to you, Huntrix!" With that, a cloud of smoke raised in the area, from which a demon emerged falling between spectators, along with the girls on stage, interpreting "How it's done." Zoey quickly killed the demon, making it go 'puff' and explode into confetti, pleasing the fans.

As Rumi reached the highest note, they could see golden in the Honmoon, smiling excited as their goal seemed so close. The rest of the concert went normally, the first songs were the ones that shared with Y/N, after that, she leaved the stage to take a break.

She was tired, she got rid of Gwi-Ma, yes, but somehow she kept hearing voices, not from her mind, it was like the demons that the Huntrix girls slained runed to her, to find another demon on the realm to rest.

Y/N was not a normal demon, that's for sure. She actually devoured souls, but probably not like Gwi-Ma did, or at least she wasn't really sure about that, perhaps he did hear the agony and enjoyed it.

So yeah, that's exactly what happened to Y/N, somehow she fed herself by demons, unlike whatever she thought and told the hunters- It was like they knew what she was, and didn't wanted to let her go, remembering all she was before even becoming a demon, she didn't want that, she tought she would forget, and yet, the more she leaved all behind, the more it seemed to chase her.

The concert finished, and she reunited with the girls after they left their staff behind.

"Hey Y/N!" Zoey went to hug her tightly, being followed by smiles of the other two.

"Thanks for saving our ass, the concert could go wrong without you." Mira patted his back. "No problem, I'm glad to help you." Y/N pulled apart from the hug, the girls started to walk away to the car that would leave them on their penthouse.

"Do you want to come over with us? We'll be having an important meeting with our couch." Zoey jumped happily next to the girls.

"I wouldn't like to bother you, thanks." Y/N brushed off and keep walking behind them. "Also, I have some stuff to do, I need to write some things and then just sleep."

"But I thought you didn't need to sleep?" Zoey tilted her head slightly, being followed by Mira.

"When I hadn't take a break for days I do need to rest." Y/N sighed and waved at them as she saw how they got into the car. "But have a nice rest on your couch." She chuckled.

"Okayy, be safe!!" Zoey said already on the car, after a bit losing track of their friend.

"I'm a demon, I think I can take care of myself." Y/N turned into a shadow, starting to roam through the city.

She did'nt lie to the girls, she was in fact tired, but everyday she did a patrol just to be sure that demons weren't around.

This world was now hers to protect, and it was just because she accepted to be with the hunters, if not, god knows what would have happened.

And suddenly, she felt a presence. No, not one, five. They were demons for sure, she could sense them, and even as a shadow, she knew they could see her too, they were just like her, humans with deals to seal.

"I know you're watching me." Y/N stopped and showed her human form, her eyes shined with that golden light as she searched for the ones behind that presence. "Show yourself." And as she barely turned around she found them, five male demons standing in there, their patterns shining just like their eyes, she was basically surounded, all because she let her guard down.

Shit.

Ngl, I improv half of this cuz I started to disociate through it, I'm so sorry if there are errors, I really tried my best to make it have sense :'v

Umm, I don't know, let me know if you liked it or not! I''l try to get my writting habilities better, I'm not perfect at english grammar T-T

Taglist: @just-set-things-on-fire, @gremlinartstudio, @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone, @katzline

[kokii-omii]

"Your Highness..."

(book 7 Lucien + diafam)

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

Diasomnia dorm - Lounge

Lucien: .......

Maddex: you keep staring at the door, in fact you've been staring at it for exactly twelve minutes!

Lucien: its just....

Lucien: Malleus and Silver aren't back yet... and its almost time...

Maddex: cheer up Lulu, they'll be back soon trust me, but for nowwww why don't you eat? maybe that'll help you relax

Lucien: i don't have time to relax, Maddex not when- ugh....

Maddex: look i get it, Lilia's leaving and you guys are great friends and you'll miss him, but its no use spending the rest of your time with him in a corner being sour about it

cuz you're gonna miss out on the things that matter

Lucien:.... maybe you're ri-dont you stuff your face while I'm talking! thats so RUDE!

Maddex: lifthen ah man isf humgrfy, and the foof ifs sho good

Lucien: you sicken me- im going to Lilia, HMPH!

Sebek: HMPH!

Ace: its no use.. he doesn't keep Lilia's words in his heart at all...

Lucien: its a little amusing seeing Sebek try and converse with his fellow freshman

Lilia: i was hoping that those kids his age would motivate him if he ever hits a slump

Lilia: eheh a little friendly rivalry never hurt

Lucien: well you're not wrong, Sebek can be a bit intense but i think these freshmen will be able to match his intensity

Lucien: especially the little one with the horns, i see him bickering with Sebek often

Peyn: for the last goddamn time i DO NOT CAREE

Sebek: YOU UTTER BUFFON, HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT-

Lucien: quite lively, those two hahaha

Lilia : indeed they are, haha!

Crowley: Vanrouge, sorry to interrupt, but your carriage has come to pick you up, its time to leave

Sebek & Lucien : !!!

Sebek: please wait Lilia-sama-

Lucien : Malleus and Silver have yet to return! you can't leave just yet!

Lilia: its fine you two, i cant keep the carriage waiting, its best that you send them my regards

Sebek & Lucien: but-

Lilia: its sad to leave but- Goodbye, everyone!-

*The doors open with a loud thud, and a harsh wind rushes in*

Malleus: Well well...What a glamorous party..

Malleus: students and the teachers... Everyone is here...fufufu!

*A big green flame and what appears from it is silver*

Silver: !? huh- t-this place....is.. Diasomnia..?

Lilia: Malleus! Silver! what happened? you're both covered in snow.. and silver your nose is all red....hm?......Did you cry?

Silver: No! .....this is just-

Malleus: Lilia, Thank you for the invitation today, i apologize for being late...I've been thinking about this. What should I give to you..... No, what should I give to you all?

Lucien: .....

Malleus: Please accept this....It's a gift from my heart.

Lilia: gift?... Malleus what are you talking about?...

Lucien: M-Malleus... if i may...

Lucien: its just a small observation of mine.. but uhm... pardon my boldness but...you're holding a little more blot than usual

Lucien: a-and it might be dangerous to bestow any gifts for tonight...

Malleus:...

Lucien: Or-or let me take care of the issue at hand! I'll- i can perhaps use my spell on you to lessen the amount of blot you're currently holding-

Lucien: ive done this many times for my brother before so you dont have to worr-

Malleus: Lucien...

Lucien: y-yes.. Malleus....?

Malleus: Be quiet. That's an order.

Lucien:

Lucien: i.....Yes of course.....

Lucien: your highness...

Malleus: Listen Carefully, Everyone! I shall bestow a wonderful gift upon you all...

[miedei]

am I still looking for it?

you've found yourself in a routine with spencer. you're not sure if its any good for you, but you want him anyway.

a/n: the bear s4 finale got me in such an angst mood sooooo here's my first full angst fic!! i don't know how good my angst skills are but i really wanted to get this idea out so i hope you like it! title is from howling by noah kahan :)

cw: post maeve!spencer x reader, angst, spencer is toxic as hell like he SUCKS, kind of fwb relationship, reader feels insecure a lot, fade to black smut but mdni anyway

wc: 2.1k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

It's not as if you ever intended to anticipate him. You shouldn't have, really, but he's intoxicating. To have someone like that, whose attention is always scattered like rays of sunlight all over the place, focusing just on you. It leaves you giddy, head spinning and legs a little shaky. You can't exactly put an end to that, can you?

After every case, the routine is clear. Drowsy-eyed, the team shuffles into the bullpen, each one of you slinking off to your desks. Silence ensues, interrupted by soft keyboard tapping, everyone trying to rush through their post-case paperwork.

Some of you are faster than others, but everyone seems to finish up at the same time. Right as JJ pushes back from her desk with a sigh, Penelope emerges from her lair, eyes drooping with sleepiness. You’re all ready to go home.

Shuffling past Morgan in the elevator, you stand towards the back, the metal bleeding frigidity into your clothing. You couldn't be further from Spencer, who's standing right at the doors. He doesn't turn, doesn't look at you. He continues his conversation with Emily, and you slump your shoulders just a little further.

The elevator ride is short, the air thick with exhaustion radiating off each of you. Once the doors open to the silent parking lot, half-hearted goodbyes are said before everyone splits off to their cars.

It's only when everyone's out of sight that you turn around – and just like you'd expected, Spencer's lingering at the door of his car. Meeting your eyes, he quirks up one end of his lips, nodding towards his car.

You don't know why you hesitate, but you do. A fleeting glance back at your own car causes him to pipe up.

“I'll bring you back for your car tomorrow morning.”

His voice is low, gravelly in the way it only gets when he's truly tired, both in mind and body. Your self control doesn't stand a chance against him.

Abandoning your car, you stuff your keys back in your pocket, crossing the asphalt to stand at his side. Wordlessly, he slides into the driver's seat, leaning over to push open the passenger door for you.

Sliding in, the familiar feeling of the leather seat against your legs grounds you. Your legs fit perfectly, the headrest at the perfect height for you. Yet another reminder that this isn't the first time. It should be the last.

The drive across the city leaves you in a bubble of tension. Spencer's quiet, too quiet. How do you get him to talk? 

He's been so incredibly silent for the past few months. It's understandable, obviously, but it's still unbearable to experience.

“That was a tough one, huh?”

The words are blurted out, and you have the sudden urge to clap your hands over your mouth. 

Spencer doesn't say a word.

“I mean, I'm usually alright with cases like this but something about talking to the mother of that victim was really difficult, don't you think so?”

Why can't you shut up? Spencer barely acknowledges your words, nodding softly when you look over at his profile.

Thankfully the sight of him dries up any words left on your tongue. From the side, the sharp angles of his brow and jaw are incredibly pronounced. His eyes are steely, trained on the road in front of him. 

Sometimes the sight of him fills you with joy and affection, all pinks and yellows seeping into your skin. 

But other times, he fills you with a sense of murky grey. It flows through you, melancholy burrowing deep into you until it fills your very bone marrow. 

The ghosts of smiles and sobs alike are etched into the lines around his mouth and eyes. You've witnessed both, and how could you ever separate yourself from him when you have?

You're rendered silent until he finally pulls into his street, parking by the curb before swiftly exiting the car. As you open your door and rise from your seat, he’s standing next to the door. 

If you were capable of deluding yourself further, you could tell yourself that this was like the end of a date. He drives you home from dinner, opens your door, helps you out of a car. 

But there was no dinner. He didn’t even touch your door. His hands are shoved in his pockets as if to ensure you won’t grab one.

Even so, you follow him. You walk into his dilapidated apartment building. You walk up the several flights of stairs. You watch him open the door, walk in behind him, and let him touch you.

His hands are searingly hot, one fisted in your hair and the other pressing firmly against your lower back. The kiss isn’t romantic. It’s hungry, bruising. His lips crush against yours as if he’s trying to consume you.

Your breath is pulled from your lungs, sucked into his mouth until you’re gasping for it, fingers digging into his shoulders. He must understand, parting from you briefly, although he takes advantage of that leverage to steer you backwards through his apartment. 

The reprieve allows you to glance around his living room quickly. Quick glances are the most you ever get to see of it, but you yearn for more. The worn leather couch looks comfortable, you’d like to sit on it. You’d like to be able to take the time to peruse the stacks of books on the floor. You want to inspect the pictures on his wall, ask him probing questions about each one. 

But he’s fast, and you have to settle for the glimpse you’re offered. The only notable thing you can register is a book on his coffee table, a distinct red and white cover catching your eye, but you can’t even read the title before you’ve been whisked into his bedroom. 

Spencer’s in a rush, lithe fingers gripping the hem of your shirt and yanking it up off you. Fumbling with the button on your trousers, he reattaches his mouth to yours, ragged breaths falling against your lips. 

It’s like he’s drawing you into his orbit, you’re powerless against the beguiling feeling of his hands on you, whenever you manage to experience it. 

You go willingly, fall back on his sheets and lift your hips when he drags your trousers down you legs. You sigh as he climbs in between your legs, his breath hot against your thighs. 

Looking down, you see him staring transfixed at the sight of your core on display for him. Rough hands grip your inner thighs, pushing them wider as he swallows thickly.

“Fucking wet, aren’t you?”

He’s never cruder than when he’s between your legs, his voice rumbling with exhaustion and lust. His eyes never falter, trained right on that throbbing spot between your thighs as if he’s not even speaking to you. He’s speaking to your cunt.

You barely get the time to dwell on that, because he’s diving in immediately, licking a stripe up your dripping folds with a groan that sends shivers down your spine. 

Everything seems to fall away, your anxieties and nerves melting into goo as he suctions his lips around your clit. 

For just over an hour, you let yourself dive into everything Spencer gives you – everything you told yourself you wouldn’t be indulging in again.

It’s past 03:00 when you finally get the feeling back in your legs. The ache doesn’t go away, but you finally get the sense that you can walk around without stumbling. 

The room is dark, Spencer’s blackout curtains working overtime to block out the streetlights that you know lie beyond them. Spencer himself is fast asleep, on the other side of the bed. After cleaning you up and making sure you peed, he pulled on pyjama pants (he didn’t take his shirt off, again) and fell into the deepest sleep you ever see him in. 

He’s rolled away, as if he’s being pulled to the other side of the room. All you can see is the plane of his back, plaid shirt loose and tight in different places. Normally you’d be asleep right next to him, curled towards him but somehow always waking up on opposite sides of the bed, but tonight you aren’t.

You’re thirsty. You’ll let him sleep. 

Standing from his bed, you pad into the living room. It feels a bit like a violation of privacy, seeing his space without any rush. However, you can’t refuse your greedy eyes, and you can’t help but let them rove over every item with insatiable interest.

Photos of his mother, of a younger version of him standing with professors. One of the BAU, a shaky one in which you can see yourself in the corner, leaning over Penelope’s lap to get into frame. It sends another queer, tingly feeling down your back, but you can’t exactly say what it is. 

Pacing through the room to get to his kitchen, a distinctive red catches your eye. The book you noticed earlier, laid out on the coffee table in a position of honour. 

Something about it draws you in, and you walk over to it, lifting the book with a soft grip. The Narrative of John Smith. The red door on the cover frames the words, and a thrill runs through you. 

This is something of Spencer’s. He holds it dear. It must be beautiful.

You can’t stop yourself from flipping the hardcover lid open. The creamy white pages are thick, clearly expensive. The first page is empty, the author and publishing information all on the next pages. But you don’t turn the page yet.

Instead, your eyes dart immediately down the page to the handwritten inscription. The script is neat, letters etched with clear care.

Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another. - Thomas Merton

You can’t do this. You don’t even know who Thomas Merton is. But you do know who wrote this. You know why Spencer has the book laid out in a position of honour.

You have to leave. 

Any thoughts of water, or even staying the night flee your mind. You have to get out. 

You shove the book haphazardly back on the coffee table. Hurrying back to Spencer’s room, you scoop up your abandoned work clothes. A final glance towards Spencer, and he looks perfectly comfortable, hugging a pillow to his chest as his shoulders rise and fall with each breath.

Muttering a curse under your breath, you walk into the hallway, choosing to get clothed there, rather than in that room with him. 

You must look haggard, wrinkled blouse and trousers on as you walk towards his front door. Your shoes are scattered around the living room, forcing you to root around for them for a moment. 

After sitting on the couch to pull them on (it is comfortable, damn it), you rise, snatching up your workbag from the floor before turning to the door. You’re ready to go, but a niggling thought in the back of your mind stops you from storming out. 

Cursing yourself, you have to turn around, walking back to that godforsaken coffee table.

The book is crooked, left open at the inscription. 

You don’t want to, but you reach out, keeping your touch soft as you close it, straightening it so it sits right in the centre of the table. You’re pathetic.

Finally, a heaving sigh leaves your lungs as you grip the doorknob, turning it to walk into the cold hallway.

You’ll have to call a cab to get back to Quantico and pick up your own car.

[savanir]

Ghost Writer planned on just leaving that brat Phantom and his two living friends to muck about in that other universe for a short thirty years or so. Twenty if he was feeling generous.

But things get rapidly more complicated when after a week he has time to reorganise the comic section and sees that the comic pile the brats left has multiplied.

Upon closer inspection he sees several new solo runs he didn't know about, a few team ups. A brand new justice league dark series called Spectral Designs.

He picks the last one up and flips through it. He quickly realises that the series is trying to explain the sudden appearance of Phantom and his friends.

He mutters under his breath, "- as seen in Tech Pharaoh, Kobra attacks nr.4... see Poison Ivy special, the Rot returns... Greta meets Phantom for the first time when she was on Apokolips? Since when!?"

He zips over to the cabinets and goes through the series still stored there.

"Wh- they're changing the past!"

The entrance doors of his library slam open and Skulker stalks in with Ember happily trotting besides him. She's probably here to check out any new music records. But this does give Ghost Writer the opportunity to vent so he floats over to do so, complaining on and on about that brat Phantom to Skulker, if someone understands its him.

Only, he looks incredibly confused.

"Who're you talking about... Phantom?"

Ember looks up from her own stuff, "isn't he like a comic book character?"

Skulker shrugs, "I don't read comics"

"You don't read period, did the writers do something stupid in his story or something book nerd?"

Ghost Writer flounders, "are you two trying to prank me? Phantom, Danny Phantom, the halfa, brat menace, the one you want to skin."

Both of them look at him like he's finally lost it. Or well, lost it more than before that is.

For a hot minute he thinks about checking with Walker. If anyone knows about Phantom and won't try to prank him about it it's him. But then he remembers that Walker hates his guts since the Christmas thing.

"Screw this! Out of my library, I have something important to do!"

His haunt pushes the two now unwanted guests out and Ghost Writer rushes off in a direction no sane ghost would head into under any other circumstances.

Unless they were Phantom...

Gah! Why does it always become a gigantic mess when that brat is involved!

The clock tower looms dark and ominously over him.

The entire place fills him with dread. The ticking and clicking of the clocks and their gears seem threatening somehow.

Ghost Writer carefully peeks into the inner sanctum area where one lone ever shifting Ghost floats.

"Uhm.."

"I know why you're here," his voice echoes through the room.

Ah, he's not happy...

"So it's not a prank?"

Side eye from the ancient of time? Ghost Writer shrinks a little. He's really not happy.

"As you have seen things are already shifting to accommodate what happened."

"So how do we-" cough, "- how do I fix this?"

Clockwork looms over Ghost Writer who shrinks even further, "all is as it should be, your punishment will be remembering and living with the regret."

Ghost Writer makes a meek little eep noise before fleeing and Clockwork floats back to one of his mirrors.

Danny is currently going through one hell of a space adventure on New Genesis with the new gods there after wrecking his way through Apokolips and fleeing the place.

On new Genesis Lightray and Orion are assigned to keep an eye on him and figure him out and while Danny and Lightray get along like a house on fire, Orion couldn't be more moody about the situation if he tried.

Clockwork sighs, things could be worse.

The DC universe has clearly taken a liking to Danny and his friends and is going out of its way to accommodate them.

Still... he's already gotten a visit from a sulky yeti and a furious amazonian. It's surprising that the observants haven't shown up to complain yet. Though, they might think this is a good development.

Either way, it's only a matter of time before someone else does something universe shifting, Daniel has that kind of effect on people after all.

DP x DC Prompt [31]

"That's it! I've had it with you lot!!" Ghost Writer screeches as he sees the mess Danny and his friends made of his library's comic section. Batman's detective series strewn about, action comics in every direction, secret six, suicide squad, doom patrol, the outsiders. Its like a DC-splosion.

"Whoa man, we'll put them back, no need to-"

"You pests need what's called in the comic world-"

And a massive ominous glowing N52 starts hovering above Ghost Writer "-a reboot!"

"No wait- stop!"

But the three of them get slammed with the letter and numbers the size of a truck before they can do anything else and they get tossed right in the middle of the latest DC universe ending crisis.

[richarddgraysonn]

Fic idea (that I am actively working):

Jason gets brought back to life by Talia when Damian is about to start his physical training for the League of Assassins (he has been mentally trained for years unknowingly). Jason begins training with him. They start to build a brotherly bond and Jason helps Damian realize that he grew up in a colt and his treatment wasn’t okay.

Ra’s disapproves of them being so close and they get punished frequently. Talia supports their relationship and makes it a habit of taking pictures of them together often on Polaroids. The three of them collect hundreds of Polaroids over the years they’re there. The POV in the past is Jason’s. It switched back and forth between the past and present, which is Damian’s POV.

In the present, Damian would often sneak out to meet Jason on rooftops to talk about random stuff and just see eachother. Barbara knows he’s sneaking out but thinks he’s meeting a secret lover and lets him continue to sneak out without telling the others. During the day the story will be about Damian adjusting to starting school with people and meeting Jon Kent and trying to fit in and get out of the cult mindset. Damian promises Jason to not tell the others about him but secrets cannot be kept for long so here’s how the reveal goes:

Bruce, trying to sound casual while they were eating dinner on a random Friday night: when were you going to tell us about your little relationship?

Damian: what relationship, father? Drake knows of everyone I associate myself with on the school grounds. We both can assure you I am not in a relationship.

Bruce: I’m not talking about a school relationship Damian, I’m talking about a certain relationship Robin seems to have.

Damian, knowing what he’s talking about but still trying to hope Bruce isn’t talking about Jason: is this about me threatening to stab Grayson on the last mission?

Bruce: no, this is about the Polaroid we found in Red Hood’s pocket after detaining him.

Damian: maybe he just likes pictures.

Dick: pictures of you? And my dead brother in League of Assassin’s gear?

Tim, oblivious to what was actually being discussed: you knew Jason?

Bruce, obviously upset but trying not to yell: everyone go to their rooms except Damian and Dick please.

Bruce after everyone leaves: how do you know Jason? And how do the both of you know Red Hood?

Damian, averting eye contact, which would’ve gotten his bed removed for a week in the League: Mother introduced us.

Dick: we kind of inferred that, what doesn’t make sense is that he’s dead, Damian.

Bruce: look, Damian, we’re not upset, it’s just that Red Hood is dangerous and we need to know why he had this picture. And how he had this picture.

Bruce shows Damian the Polaroid, Talia had taken it the night of Damian’s tenth birthday, marking two years of training for both Jason and Damian. They had both received their first uniforms. Talia had been so proud of them. The water was on Damian’s face again which was weird because it wasn’t hot in the dining room. Damian held the picture with care and didn’t give it back when Bruce held back out his hand. Bruce let him keep it.

Damian: it was my tenth birthday when the picture was taken. Mother took it.

Bruce, clearly getting more frustrated: Jason died well before you turned ten, how is that possible?

Damian, giving up on trying to keep it a secret, knowing he would fail anyway: I met Jason on my eighth birthday. Jason was eighteen. Or at least he would have been eighteen if he hadn’t died. There was this big pit of green water that Grandfather would often bathe in. Jason was covered in its water when I met him. I guess he was out in it and he was given a second chance on life. I am not entirely sure how it works. We have both been put in the water by my mother numerous times. She says it is good for us. Jason was like my brother in the League until we were able to escape last year. Jason still is like my brother.

Dick, he had the water on his face too, his voice was shaky, Ra’s would have removed his bed for a week: where is he now?

Bruce, after Damian didn’t respond: we just want what’s best for the both of you.

Damian, realizing they’re bound to find out sooner or later: Jason is Red Hood.

Then queue commotion, in this time Jason managed to escape and is back in his safe house. He left a message for Damian, in the language they had made up in their time in the League to communicate without the others knowing, with where he was headed. Damian eventually convinced Jason to talk to Dick again and eventually Bruce and the others. And yeah. I haven’t decided when I want to stop the fic yet but there might be some stuff with Red Hood working with the Batfam. The plan for the POV changes is going to be similar to how the CW Arrow show did it, where it’s not always related to what’s happening but it stays in chronological order and is a different plot and provides information to why things are the way they are in the present.

I haven’t posted anything yet but follow TiredAndBoredNerd on AO3 for when I do eventually post the first chapter! I’m hoping to by the end of this week :)

[emeraldgem10]

I am FINALLY DONE with this project!! Now I give you...

Souls Mixed!

When you're cornered with another, mix your strength with theirs and prepare!

AGAIN, I AM FINALLY DONE WITH THIS ANIMATION!! I think I started this in Mid-February of this year and now I am done!

Oh right I also gotta talk about the process of making this, so originally this was going to be a Mario Party DS inspired animation, Eternal Sugar originally had Pitaya Dragon cookie in her spot instead as well of instead of having another Antonblast reference (guess which boss of that game I was going to make reference to) it would be an homage to Mixels instead.

I'll first cover over the unused stuff.

these 2 are the animations that was planned for the MP DS victory screen where Y/N victory pose references Luigi's victory pose from Mario Party 8. However as stated before, this was before the direction of this animation change so in the end this was scrapped.

These 2 are unfinished and unused respectively as the 1st is used but since the explosion cloud covers the island before you can see anything on it I didn't bother polishing up this one. The other was almost final but since I couldn't find appropriate sfx of clouds it ended up unused.

So if you had been following me chances are, you may have seen this already, as this was made before Hollyberry's offical awakened form was revealed for obvious reason it was scrapped, however it was used as a base for the final Mixed Cookie design.

Now for some stuff that was used.

So these 2 were the only Hollyberry sprites complete enough to essentially count as sprites. Also she was one of the bigger hurdles because my god, there was a lot to mimic to get the body parts for movement and the biggest was Eternal Sugar cause I still was adapting to animation, so often I was drawing body parts when they weren't even going to be seen, which that was a time waster :P.

As I said before this was started back in like, Mid-February, when I posted about Sentinal!Y/N. These is the only new sprites I designed for Sentinal!Y/N for this animation funny enough.

This is literally the cutscene background when Hollyberry first arrive in the Garden of Delight but shes removed from it. I actually had to look at a different image of this statue for reference to fill in the part that Hollyberry was covering up, you could probably see the little imperfections if you look closely enough.

And THIS, is my version of a Cookie Run Cubit, I'll just call it a Mixie. If you are familar with Mixels, you already know with its source of inspiration. Its spinning animation was inspired by the series own mobile game "Calling All Mixels", precisely its loading animation that had a Cubit spinning in a simliar fashion!

Finally we have the Mixed Cookie design. Like Mixels, I tooks parts and physical traits of Y/N and Aegis and combined them! There probably was more I could have done, but I'm happy with this design.

Makes me ponder of what Mixes and Maxes we could find with these cookies...

ONCE MORE I AM FINALLY DONE! Don't expect me to get right back to making Y/N sprites yet, I have a lot to catch up with my mutuals on what happened since I was away...

But for now, have a good day and..

See ya!!

[raqi-marr]

important disclaimer: this post is not intended as a criticism of HDG, it's purely just a thing i've been wondering about

so a lot of people refer to HDG as the BPD Favourite Personing Experience:tm: and i think this is largely accurate to most(? at least a lot of) HDG stories. what i mean by this is, in terms of at least screen time from the protags (e.g., stuff we see them doing as opposed to what they do outside of what the author writes about), the average HDG protagonist spends about 95% of their time with their affini post-domestication. and this is fairly heavily implied to be pretty much the norm for most affini and their florets

this is totally fine ofc, it fits with the whole "this setting is all about having The Ideal Completely Unrealistic Relationship" theme of HDG. but more and more lately I've been wondering about like, if one was to view a slightly more realistic take on HDG in which affini did other things than dote on their floret for 16 hours a day, what would that actually look like? irl pet owners don't usually spend more than a few hours a day actively interacting with their pets (if even that honestly); in HDG florets are closer to a mixture of romantic partner and pet so i'd still expect this to be like at least 8 hours a day for an affini, but i guess just like, it would be interesting to see affini Do Other Stuff

one of the central pillars of the compact is that it is so automated that affini can just fuck off and plant themselves in a forest for 500 years and nothing will stop working. this is integral to supporting the BPD Fantasy:tm: but it actually sort of bugs me from a worldbuilding perspective because A) there is no system even hypothetically possible that could be run with this little amount of involvement, B) most stories actually *don't* depict this like, at all. like i have never seen a story actually explain how the fuck it is that the compact just Keeps On Working in this near magical way, it's just mentioned as a handwave every time it comes up

i am of course well aware that, for all this is the autism setting, most people are still here for plommy romance rather than worldbuilding; i just happen to be here for worldbuilding first and plommy romance second so it sticks in my head a bit

probably gonna look into fleshing this out when It Takes Time gets to a part where raqi is actually in affini society. stories talk a lot about the compact's legion of 10 quadrillion clerks and all the bureaucracy, but what about the engineers? who actually makes (or grows) affini starships? truthfully what this setting needs is a story in which an atomic compiler breaks down and Daveina Handyvine, 75th Bloom who graduated from the Triangulum School of Galactic Phytoelectroengineering with an honors in quantum entanglement comes to repair it

the interlude in divaricated about "finally, no more fucking screws" was really good, but im pretty sure there has to be an affini industrial engineering corps somewhere; i don't think they can have fully automated starship production, there have to be plants out there handling some of the more specialist parts by hand

ultimately this entire post is just about how i have gotten to the point where hdg is more interesting to me as an actual setting than a smut writing space. its just such a fun and interesting universe to interact in and all the "haha plommy hot" stuff has taken second place for me behind questions of "ok but how would all of this actually work in real life though"

[moonfang256]

My thoughts about Deltarune, Chapters 3 & 4 (Part 11)

❤️ <( Once I finished illuminating the creature and the entire place, the battle was over and we were able to see its true form.

It looked like a chimera of combined objects, probably a disguise Asgore used to wear for some Halloween event…?

I mean, he has a body similar to Asgore's…

❤️ <( Anyway, it turned out this Darkner was very docile and didn't want anyone to see him, so he ran away and hit himself pretty hard with the chandelier.

❤️ <( Ralsei tried to heal him, but…

❤️ <( It seems he got confused and ended up healing the outside, not the inside, although he didn't realize it yet.

Susie wanted to help, but then she kind of backed out thinking that Ralsei is better than her in that matter and he could handle it.

❤️ <( Luckily, Grandpa came to help and Susie told him she wanted to give up of using healing magic for the reason I mentioned before, expressing that she wasn't cut out for it, but Grandpa and I were like:

"Nah"

❤️ <( No, seriously, what's wrong with not being good at it? If it's something you love and want to do, then do it and stop hecking comparing yourself with the rest. If you feel insecure, practice, and if you make mistakes, it's okay because you can learn from them to improve and make it better next time.

Believe me, if you persevere, you'll achieve something very good.

By the way, there are things Ralsei isn't good enough at, but you and Kris are, so honey, stop putting yourself down please.

❤️ <( See? Grandpa agrees with me.

There's nothing you should worry about, don't chicken now.

❤️ <( Come on, give Grandpa his medicine!

❤️ <( Hey look! You heal that big guy. Good job!

❤️ <( "insert wind sound"

Anyway, Grandpa left and we started talking to Jack.

❤️ <( I was bullied and rejected for not being or looking like other pretty girls. For being a weirdo, kind, quiet, obedient, solitary, and studious girl. For having different interests, like playing video games and watching cartoons and anime, instead of being a party girl.

Basically, a mix of Kris, Susie, and Noelle, I'm telling ya.

So, welcome to my freak club.

❤️ <( Sure, it shouldn't be that bad.

❤️ <( Oh, it's a small cute candle. It makes sense now.

❤️ <( Once we finished talking to this guy, he gave us some tools so we could climb the walls Zelda-style and we left the place.

❤️ <( A few stuff later, Grandpa invited us to have tea.

--------

More on this in the next post.

[octuscle]

Hey dude? I was wondering if you could help me out. I was talking to this guy I like online and I kinda lied to him about being a big bodybuilder. He wants to meet up but I don’t look like I told him. Is there a way to blow me up into a big roided man quick before I meet him? I really like the guy and wanna date him. Any help would be appreciated.

Yo bro! If you wanna roll with the big dogs, hit the gym, man. I ain't lifting for ya, but I got your back. You'll need all the hype you can get… Bro, your crush might as well be your kid! You're rocking a size 38, he's chilling in a size 32.

So, you're chillin' in the car for like thirty minutes. What’s the deal, bro? You got cash, a solid crew, so why’re you chasing some dream? You see those dudes heading to the gym. They're all young and jacked, man. You ditch the jacket to look a bit more laid back. You take a deep breath. The dude at the front desk is kinda cute, but he’s also a sweaty mess. Maybe it’s that artificial shirt of his. "Yo, I’m Kevin, what’s up?" You take another breath and say, "I'd like to sign up for training…"

Yo, next week’s rollin' in. You've hit the gym four times, bro. Your nerves are chillin'. You've even shot the breeze with some of the jacked dudes here. Kevin gives you a nod and says, “Mr. Clifton, you're killin' it, this training's totally workin'!” You flash a smile and toss ten bucks in the tip jar.

Yo, bro, you’ve been hitting the gym morning and night, right? Cardio to start, then pumpin' iron later. You’re feeling like a beast! Work’s kinda mid though… some dudes think you’re slacking. You’re already peeping job listings, huh? At least Kevin’s got your back. He’s like, "Last customer, Mr. C? Don’t go too hard! And what’s with the showers after every sesh? You’ll just sweat again!" You laugh and say clean vibes are just your thing. Kevin laughs, takes a whiff of his armpit, and goes, "Not for me, man!" then gives you a bro handshake to peace out.

Dude, it’s been like a month since you jumped into this gig. Feels like forever ago, right? Now you’re rockin' it as a sales dude at that supplement spot. Sure, the bucks could be tighter, but hey, discounts on all the goodies! Gotta hustle though, 'cause rent's still a thing. So now you’re also the janitor here at the gym. Makes sense, bro—you're here like 24/7. "Yo, Kev, all good?" "For sure, bro," Kevin shoots back. You tell him he can bounce for the day. Last dude’s already split. Time to hit the weights a bit more, then just mop up and straight up organize. Seven hours from now, it’s back to open the gym, man.

Yo, Big Bro, don't you wanna hit the shower before work? Kevin's such a softie. Your clients are jacked bodybuilders, not puny dudes like him. They dig that fresh sweat smell and love when your sweat-drenched tank slaps their chest during a chest bump. "That's my concern, bro! Need anything else? How about I grab some of that sick new stuff from Russia?" Kevin just laughs it off. He's got that natural bodybuilder vibe. Sure, you were too, but you don’t get those monster arms just from curls. "No worries, little bro! I’ll swing by at 8:00 p.m. to take over!"

Bro, you’re like a freakin' brick wall! A brick wall with that serious roid acne. You make everyone in this gym look like total noobs. Except that one dude. Man, he had a vibe. Did he get you to join? Can’t remember, but you feel like he’s the reason you’re here. You took over Kevin's shift, but of course, you rolled in late again. Leg day, ya know? Sometimes you lose track of the clock. No time for a shower or change, just hit the counter and get on the register. Then this massive dude strolls up. Damn, the ground shakes with his steps. You try to act chill, but your junk’s having its own crisis. Shouldn’t the roids make your manhood shrink? Not for you, thank goodness. That bulge in your shorts is definitely catching his eye. “Yo, bro, finally a dude at work who knows the gym grind!” he says. “And finally, someone I’m not embarrassed about smelling like a sweaty beast!” You lock eyes, throw a fist bump. You both check each other’s gains. “What’s on your agenda today, bro?” you ask. “Back and arms,” he replies. “Cardio in an hour?” “Thanks for the invite! Count me in!”

[visd3stele]

theo learning to be pack through shared interests (older pack edition):

imagine theo reading 1984 for english class and completely turning himself off after that. he's non-verbal, unresponsive, so deep and lost in his thoughts the puppy pack are getting uncanny vally from him. that night, liam goes to his room and demands to know what's wrong. theo's starring at the ceilling. for a few minutes he says nothing and liam is ready to take his leave with a heavy sigh, but then he hears the tiniest breath. "2+2=5" theo whispers, barely audible and his heart – usually completely masked, for no one to read – beats in terror. he finished the book asigned to english class, the first of their group, beating even mason to it. but that meant the others had no idea what he was talking about. couldn't see the parallels between the torture winston went through and theo's own programming. how the doctors put ideas in his head that, eventually, he wanted to believe, despite how wrong they were. how he wanted to become whatever the dread doctors wanted, how he wanted to make them proud like a child their parents. how he loved them. and it took a high school book to make theo realize the complexity of his messed up mind. surprisingly, it was lydia that put an end to his suffering. "you escaped. winston never could, try as he might. it wasn't your fault, you were a child they propagandize. but you're putting in the work to change that. that's more than most people can say. you're doing good, theo."

then scott came back for summer break and the old pack followed. and theo was invited to a pack night, on the puppy pack insistance. they decided to try a marvel marathon and theo was quite curious how much he missed during his time with the doctors. he used to be a huge fan. all went good, he mostly snickered and whispered with mason, while corey and liam made fun of their nerdy boyfriends and alec blinked awake only to swear he wasn't falling alseep. and then, the winter soldier storyline happened. theo froze. disociated. he must have, otherwise he can't understand how he suffered through that whole trigger of a movie. by the end of it scott called for a break and asked theo to help him refill the snack trays. "you ok?" he asked and theo nodded, stunned, trying to even his breath and slow down the pace of his heart. but his chemosignals were all over the place and scott was quick to mention it. "it triggered you, right? like a ptsd response? the movie, i mean." theo didn't answer, but that was an answer on its own. "come on, i think the next movie'll make you feel better. bucky gets to adress his trauma and learn there are people who care for him and want him to get better." the way scott said it, so pointendly, made theo nod against his will. there was more to it than the alpha let on and somehow theo knew exactly what.

stiles surprised him. he offered to take him to the new star wars movie. well, not offer, exactly. but theo wanted to go, said he really liked the francise in his childhood, before the doctors, but mason was busy and neither liam, corey, or alec wanted to see a star wars movie. stiles, still on the summer break, over heard and, as he also wanted to go see the movie, pointed it out to theo they could go together. "anakin was way better of a villain." theo commented, after they left the movie theatre. "this kylo guy felt like a cheap knock-off." "whoa, whoa, whoa, dude. kylo ren is following in his grandpa footsteps, but, like, neither are really a villain, you know. anakin is as anti-hero as they come. the jedi tried to control him, hid stuff from him, no wonder he was manipulated. it's tragic. and kylo is a spoiled brat, sure, but he's also hurting... dude!" theo startled. it was just like stiles to stop in the middle of a sentence and change the subject, but it wasn't like stiles to hit him frantically over the arm. "this is just like you! oh my God!"

it was eerie, how similar they were. theo blamed it on the coyote side, but malia was quick to deny it. she didn't want that. didn't like it one bit. they both killed their sisters, they both lost their families, they both had the urge to act on instinct first and kill the danger before it kills them. they're both ruthless and they're both still learning to be part of society. one, as a former wild aninals alone in the forest, the other as a former child spy/murderer/science experiment. and they both could hold a grudge. but one day malia snorts despite herself at something theo says. and she realizes he smells like pack. she might not like it, but she can't unnotice how in sink they often are. and one day, she'll accept it. for now though, she can pretend not to notice, but she acts more civil around theo.

[transmutationisms]

hi caden! you and your mutuals have been so helpful to my understanding of the world :3 thank you. I’ve been stewing on a few ideas that feel connected but I’m struggling explain their connections in a way that isn’t just “this thing has similarity to the others.” I’m thinking about how discussions ‘fast’ fashion and sustainability in the garment/textile industries share similarities with ‘media literacy’ v literacy, and then also AI moral panic.

my first thought was that a lot of critiques around fashion are superficial, which I know you’ve talked about. even subcultures that claim to be radical in politic still fall victim to the belief that a person’s values can be determined by their clothing (and therefore also their body.) and I see this same rhetoric in discussions about sustainable v fast fashion, wherein people claim you can ‘read’ a garment to determine its means of production. but like even if a garment is well-produced with high quality fabrics, that tells us very little about the working conditions of the person who made it! And people seem very resistant to actually admitting that expensive garments are just as irresponsibly produced, because it’s the whole of the clothing industry as an international phenomenon that is predatory.

I have a gut feeling that this is similar to what’s happening with AI, where people think their judgments of something’s quality is tantamount to criticizing its production. It doesn’t really matter whether ai is producing slop or not, and if anything that conversation feels like a distraction from the practical reality of how it gets used. if it’s being used to train drone programs that determine if a civilian looks or moves like a ‘terrorist’ (like Lavender), then that system is bad because the human parameters are bad. But instead people want to bellyache about the moral superiority of ‘writing good’ AKA writing convincingly. And it just makes me sad when people’s solution to this artificial problem of AI slop is to say “hey everybody just needs to get really literate right now”, as if critically reading the commodity (whether an AI essay or a sweater) is going to actually do anything about what these tools are actually being used to do, which is entrap people in poor labor conditions, poverty, and kill them. and then somehow the result of this rhetoric about literacy is that sufficiently literate people only read or purchase good commodities?? When actual literacy is necessary to navigate these predatory systems and mitigate risk? Like I think media literacy is just the commodity fetishism replacement for literacy, and it misses out on why literacy is actually useful

anyway sorry for ranting, I’ve tried to explain this many times and I would really appreciate any critiques or clarification you can offer. thank you Caden!

yeah i mean ia the problem with ai is not really on the consumer end, it's a product like any other that can be useful or not in different contexts, the actual labour and production issues are the things people should be concerned about & that applies to literally any production under capitalism but is definitely rhetorically elided in specific ways wrt the tech industry right now. i'm really not the person to ask about ai or fashion in detail to be honest, they're not industries i understand in a lot of depth or frequently buy new stuff from lol but i do agree the way people talk about them is very detached from actual labour concerns and instead tends to just focus on moralising consumption to make the speaker feel better for being Smart etc

as far as commodity fetishism im not sure i directly see the connection to literacy? it's more to do with the way a commodity is 'read' under capitalism as an already existing object with an exchange value determined by the market & without any of its real history of being produced, transported, etc by human labour. i think you csn see the earlier version of this concept eg in how marx talks about estranged labour in the paris manuscripts, compared to the formulation of fetishism in eg kapital. but i also think the fetish concept is flawed & applied asymmetrically & relies on a notioj of 'fetishism' that is bound up in colonial anthropological ideas -- would always recommend j lorand matory's 'the fetish revisited' on this

[sixtysomethingtenyearold]

Introduction.

Greetings! Stanford Pines, here, and I seem to be in a.. situation. It is complicated.

My body has been reverted to exactly the way it was at the age of ten, and, well, to say the least I'm against it.

Questions and comments are welcome, as well as suggestions to remedy this. I am currently grounded from "lab time" and cannot research my own solution. I miss lab time.

(Please read the provided "O.O.C." message underneath the cut before interacting.)

okay ooc time. hello! my name is connor (@kittynugg) im the guy who runs this blog, created the au, writes the fic does all the art. yeah im pretty talented and amazing i think.

so let's get all the unfun stuff out of the way real quick-- shit i don't want mentioned on here.

-ships involving ford (ESPECIALLY billf*rd), ford here is aroace! fidd*uthor is iffy i think its a cute ship and im only really censoring that so this post doesn't come up in searches for it but keep in mind ford's orientation if you do want to mention it -the mpr*g ford poll. pregnancy is like really triggering to me just. just dont talk about it just the mention of it has ruined my entire day before -sexual/suggestive shit. must i reiterate that ford is aroace

don't make me have to add more shit to here okay? okay! now here are some things you CAN do

-talk about alcohol, drugs, yk fun stuff (not fun NOT FUN i just think its fun from an interest standpoint. my ford's been an alcoholic before and im genuinely not sure if that's canon) -bring in other aus! he's talked to two alternate fords so far and it's been very fun for me!! -tag him in tag games! he'll respond :]

here's the fic on ao3 and tumblr, and here's the TON of art i've made of minified!ford. you might get art too if you sent in an ask!!! maybe!! is that a good incentive please interact

oh btw!!! sorry the blog theme is shit its. very difficult. if anyone's good at coding and wants to help dm me !!

*if tags aren't capitalized properly, they're ooc!