#oh not what if he did drink the poison

[jianghushenanigans]

Holy shit XJY scared the shit out of me I gen thought he was gonna drink the poison

That cold stare at his dad Kills me he’s so Committed

[that-house]

Potion Vendor FAQs:

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.

Do you sell love potions? No.

Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.

Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.

Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.

Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.

So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.

Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.

Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.

Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.

Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.

Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.

Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.

So can you make poison potions? No.

Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.

Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.

How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.

You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.

Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.

Road trip? He lives in Seattle.

Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.

For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.

And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.

Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.

Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.

You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.

So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.

Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.

Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.

Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.

What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.

You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.

Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.

Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.

Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.

Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.

Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.

Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.

When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.

When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.

Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.

Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.

Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.

Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.

I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.

How did you know that? …I’m psychic.

Yeah? No.

You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.

Did you just miss a turn? Probably.

Are you sure we’re not lost? No.

You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.

Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.

Would it help if I said it was? It would.

Is it getting dark? Soon.

Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.

Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.

Should we find a motel? Sure.

One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.

You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.

Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.

Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.

How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.

How many beds are there? One.

Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.

Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.

How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.

Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.

For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.

Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.

Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.

Are you asleep? …

Yes? …

Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …

What should I say? …

Did you know that I had a really nice day? …

Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …

Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …

Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …

Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …

Did you know that you’re warm? …

Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.

Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.

Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.

What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!

Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.

You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!

Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.

Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.

You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.

Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.

Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.

How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.

Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.

150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.

Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.

And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!

Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.

And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.

So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.

So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!

Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.

Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.

Are you done eating? Yep.

Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.

How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.

Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.

Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.

What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.

Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.

Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…

Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.

Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?

When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.

Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.

What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.

Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.

What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.

Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.

Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.

What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.

I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …

Did he get his body modified? …

What sort of surgery could do that? …

How is he still alive? …

Did a fucking wizard do it? …

WHY? …

HOW? …

Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …

I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.

Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.

Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.

Can we do that? Of course.

Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.

Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.

Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.

Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.

How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.

How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.

That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.

Wanna fuck? God yes.

Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.

…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.

How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.

How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!

Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.

When will we get there? Noon-ish.

Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.

Is this Seattle? Looks like it.

Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.

Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.

So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.

Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.

So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!

How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.

Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.

Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.

Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!

Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!

Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.

I just caught this, but, FAQ? …

As in Frequently Asked Questions? …

How many times is Frequent? …

Have you known everything all along? …

How many times have you done this? …

Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!

And you say that every time? Yes. I do.

Do you love me? Yes.

How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.

Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.

Can I go now? Please don’t.

But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.

How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.

What happens at the end of this? It begins again.

And do I get replaced with someone else? …

Do I get replaced? …Yes.

Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!

You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.

How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?

Did you know my name is Alice? …

Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …

Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …

Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!

Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.

Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.

Be good to the next me, okay? I will.

Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.

Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.

What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.

What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!

What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.

Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.

What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.

What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!

So I should keep repeating something? Yes!

I love you? I love you too.

I love you? Again.

I love you? Keep going.

I love you? I’ll just let you talk.

I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!

I love you? Now can you make it a statement?

I love you.

You did it?

I did it!

You did it!

We broke the loop.

What now?

Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.

And then?

Whatever we want, forever.

I think I’d like that.

Remember that song from the beginning?

The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?

We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?

Let me off, let me in

Let others battle

We don’t need to battle

And we both shall win

Pressed in my palm

Was a stone from the beach

The perfect circle

Gave a moment of peace

Now I’m lying on the floor

Like I’m not worth a chair

I close my eyes and imagine

I’m not there.

[bighitfics]

jungkook oneshots that I will keep re-reading till the end of time!

(a much needed recommendation) ִ ࣪𖤐

The Broken Vow ୨ৎ by @lleldey

— major angst, teeny bit of fluff, yandere husband jungkook.

(this is an eight star, no doubt! i’ve read it nine times already)

When She Loved Me ✦ by @jungkookstatts

— angst, fluff, and more angst, triple the angst.

(reading this is like drinking poisoned honey, this has to be both my villain origin story & guilty pleasure fic)

Champange Confetti ִ ࣪𖤐 by @pennyellee

— dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s.

(gawd this was the perfect blend of everything and the accurate references of the 90s just made it more perfect than it already is)

I Love You Too ✧₊⁺ by @smileyoongle

— therapist!jk, found family, angst, healing, second chances.

(sceaming, blushing, giggling, sliding down the door, he’s so disgustingly sweet in this!) 😮‍💨🤌🏼

Unwaveringly Forever ⭑ by @loststarxox

— alcoholic jk, self destructive, healing/comfort, established relationship, found family <3 (i have a soft spot for this jungkook, this precious being must be protected at all cost! ps : he’s lowkey segci asf in this from the way he clings to her, to needing her by his side all the time even tho he’s drunk as hell *sighs* my dream man)

Slow And Steady ౨ৎ by @yoonia

— painter jungkook, infidelity, smut, angst.

(this women never misses with her 10/10 plotline, her ridiculous 100/10 writing skills & her ability to bring the scenes alive! mad talent)

Tempest ⭑.ᐟ by @kooktrash

— yandere boyfriend, romance, established relationship.

(obsessed is an understatement, she writes jk the best)

Fifth Wish ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ by @jiminrings

— bodyguard!au, fake dating, angst, fluff.

(this is girl breakfast, girl lunch and girl dinner! i can scream ab it all day!)

Kaiho 𓍯𓂃 by @99liners

— marriage au, age gap, controlling husband jk, trophy wife reader. (screaming, wailing, barking for toxic tsundere husband jk. i need therapy ya’ll)

What was I made for? ☽ by @spideyjimin

— strangers to lovers, soldier jungkook, angst, fluff.

(he’s so dreamy in this, oh how i pray to be loved like this)

Stars Behind Waves 𓇼 by @taegularities

— estranged best friends to lovers, fluff, smut.

(im wordless, this was too good to be true)

Rock God ⊹ ˖ by @venusjeon

— 80s au, angst, smut, humour, fluff, s2f2l.

(such a refreshing plotline, writing is top tier!)

Definition Of Love 𐙚 by @sparklingchim

— established relationship, fluff, smut.

(if there was one fic i could hug i’d hug this one)

Secret Crime ⋆⑅˚₊ by @kimnjss

— fwb (with feelings), smut, angst.

(the smut was so well executed, it got me all heated)

Night After Night ⊹₊ ⋆ by @brown-bi-beautiful

— fuckboy jungkook, exes to lovers, cute simp (red flag) jungkook.

(literally seven mv storyline executed and written in the best way possible i read it a countless time, tbh she did it even better!)

have a good read girlies <3

follow for more.

[evilminji]

Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>

Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?

He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.

What're you? A cop?

Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.

Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.

But see, here's the THING.

The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...

Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.

There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)

He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!

Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.

That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.

Poisonous, though.

They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.

Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!

Who's Coffee Is This?

Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!

You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.

He's shouting.

People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.

Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!

He TACKLES the man of steel.

RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!

And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.

He'll move in a moment.

When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.

The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.

They never do.

And now he's nearly killed Superman.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Request idea:

Your darling, adoring, wonderful boyfriend Jason sits you down And solemnly confesses that he is red hood. He’s been dreading this day for months. If you want to leave, he’ll understand and wait—-

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU KNEW THE WHOLE TIME?

Jason thinks he’s in an angst fic. The reader is in a rom com where her boyfriend has been a ridiculously obvious superhero, but she’ll let him tell her when he’s ready.

Maybe some shaningany flashbacks where you’ve helped to keep his identity secret (stalling so he can change, giving alibis) while he was oblivious.

- Batchilla

To Wait and To Love

Hi Batchilla! Hope you enjoy! ♡ ~1.5k words

Your boyfriend is a vigilante, Red Hood, to be exact. You know this. He's just not aware you know this.

It's obvious, really, and kind of cute the way he makes excuses to leave. Sure, before you put two and two together, it was starting to seem like he was just dragging you along. But it all made sense when you caught sight of the helmet poorly concealed under his bed.

It makes you wonder if he wants to get caught. Especially when he brings you flowers from the shop you just saw him save from Poison Ivy on TV. Or freezer-burnt cartons of ice cream from your favorite ice cream shop, which was buried under piles of snow courtesy of one Mr. Freeze only twenty minutes ago.

You offer him big smiles and kisses of thanks, and your heart melts a little at how relieved he looks, how baffled he is by your understanding. And you do understand. To tell someone you run around in spandex and leather every night is a big risk, especially for someone who used to run crime in Gotham.

You're no angel yourself, even if he does call you one, and it's endearing to watch him scramble for excuses. It's even more endearing that he tries so hard to make it up to you when he's late, when he has to leave early, when he comes back battered and bruised with flimsy half-thought out explanations.

You'll let him take all the time he needs to tell you, and it's almost funny how easily you've come to cover for him.

"Jason? Oh, he's changing his suit. Someone knocked into me and I spilled my drink all over his jacket. How embarrassing," You laugh out, answering the reporter's question over Jason's absence from the latest Wayne Gala. It's only half a lie, you might not have spilled your drink but he's definitely changing his suit. It's just not the suit anyone would expect.

Once whispers of a break-in at Gotham National Bank started circulating the Gala, it wasn't hard to miss the meaningful glances between your boyfriend and his family. Sometimes you wonder how no one's noticed it before.

You smile brightly at him once he comes back, smelling like gunpowder and leather, and you let him kiss your knuckles while he mumbles apologies over getting caught up with an old friend. You don't imagine Riddler is exactly an old friend, but you teasingly tell him how he owes you a dance for making you wait. He smiles back, his own grin even brighter than yours, as he leads you to the dance floor.

You're opening the door to your apartment, chatting lazily with your friend after a night out.

"Is your boyfriend here? I remember you saying you two were practically living together," they ask, eyes trailing around your living space.

You hum thoughtfully, "We pretty much are. I think he might be sleeping or out looking for the stray cat we saw the other day. It had a bad limp." It's not a hundred percent a lie either, there was a hurt stray. You just know that Catwomen already picked it up, after a text Jason sent to Bruce Wayne's current girlfriend, Miss. Selena Kyle. Which would have been more of a surprise if you didn't already know who Batman was.

But it definitely isn't the truth, because you did catch sight of a red helmet following you and your friend back from the club. (Gotham never felt safer, than when he was watching over you.)

Your friend coos and starts to respond, when a thump sounds from the fire escape. They jolt, "What was that?"

"The cat, probably," You say quickly, letting out a laugh, "it's, uh, pretty big. Has a limp. Hey, did I show you the flowers Jason got me?" You gesture towards the bouquet behind them, and you both focus on the pretty blossoms.

Within minutes, you hear your bedroom door open and close. "Hi, baby," Jason drawls, looping an arm around your waist to pull you to his side, "Sorry, I fell asleep, how was your night?"

You pretend not to notice the limp he's nursing, one you're certain he should be resting, and tilt your head up to kiss his jaw, "It was fun. Missed you."

"I missed you too," he echoes fondly, and the three of you fall into an easy conversation. You distract your friend when you all go to sit on the couch, and if you choose to avoid sitting on his left side, it's certainly not because Red Hood hurt his leg fighting Killer Croc earlier this week.

Jason has never said your name like that before. His eyebrows are knitted together. He's kneeling in front of you, his hands clasped over yours as you sit on the bed.

"I love you and I– I have something to tell you," he chokes out, strained, "please, just– just, hear me out."

It clicks. This is it. He's going to tell you.

You smile and nod, it'll be nice to finally air out this secret. And maybe he could help you work on your excuses? It'll be easier if you're working as a team. You reach out and brush his hair back, unfazed and delighted he's trusting you enough with this, "Of course, Jason. Anything you need to tell me."

Jason is going to throw up. He's finally gotten his act together enough that he's going to tell his partner he's Red Hood. His stomach is churning, it's agony, knowing he could lose them over this.

They're so good to him. So understanding and patient and kind. He has no idea how he got so lucky. And he loves them. It's scary sometimes, how much he loves them. He wants this to last so badly. So, he has to be honest. Has to tell them he isn't what the world says he is.

He's a vigilante. Was a crime lord. He hurts people to save people. He terrifies the trash that calls themselves human. He's not good for you, but he tries. He wants you to still love him.

He wants you to stay so much. Even if he's not good. He wants you. You deserve so much more than the excuses and lies he gives. Jason's wanted to tell you for weeks, but he chokes on his words every time. He's never been so afraid of doing something. Not when he was a kid on the streets. Not when he was Robin. Not as Red Hood.

You look so perfect, sitting at the edge of your bed and smiling at him. He almost flinches when he thinks this could be the last time you smile at him.

He's on his knees. He's prepared to beg. He would beg to keep you.

He says your name, he tells you he loves you. It might be the last time he gets to say that to you. The thought makes him even more nauseous. He tells you he has something to say.

You brush his hair back and keep smiling. He wants to sob. You don't know. You don't know what he is, what he's done.

"I'm Red Hood," he gasps out, voice ragged.

A beat. You're still smiling, you still look happy, and you're nodding at him.

He blinks at you, "I'm Red Hood," he repeats, "I know that- I know it's a lot. I understand if you never want to see me again, but, baby–"

You lean forward and kiss him. He's more than just a little dumbfounded. "Jason, I love you too. I'm not leaving you. I, um, kind of already knew you were Red Hood?" You say, a sheepish smile coming over your face.

"You– what?" Jason stumbles out. You're still here. Still touching him. You kissed him. You look relaxed. Happy.

"I saw your helmet under the bed. Everything clicked after that," You tell him gently.

"And you're okay with that? You're okay with me?" He asks, tone betraying his desperation.

Concern flashes in your eyes, "Of course I'm okay– I'm more than okay with that, Jason. I love you, tights or not."

He lets out a laugh, and his stomach swoops, the tension dissipating throughout his body, "Yeah?"

You grin at him, cupping his face, "Yeah, but you're going to have to show me how you swing around rooftops."

He gets off his knees to kiss you again, he doesn't think this moment could get any better, "Is that all?"

You giggle, at the pure elation in his eyes, and he grins widely at your joy. Then, the moment does get better, "Well, I'm kinda interested in the car Batman drives around you."

"I could make that happen," he murmurs, and seals the promise with another kiss, "You wanna see the batplane too?"

Your eyes light up, and Jason thinks he might be addicted to the mischievous glint that flickers in your gaze.

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt3

Dick knew that Tim was sending him looks every few seconds.

How could he not? This places food names were honestly the best, if this was some kinda murder cult Dick would be so disappointed.

Glancing up over the menu at Danny, Dick smiled at the teen who had been whipping down the same cup for five minutes like some wild west bartender while trying very hard not to stare at the two vigilantes.

"Okay, I think I have made up my mind, Red you got what you wanted?" Finally meeting Tim's eyes, Dick mentally winced, Tim's eyes were doing that twitchy thing that happened sometimes...

"Yes. I am." Dick understand slightly but like...the puns weren't that bad

Out of the corner of his eye Dick saw Danny pop up, nearly slamming the mug he had been holding as he fumbled with a note pad, coming closer to the two, he did a pretty decent customer service smile as he waited.

Since Tim was having a problem with words, Dick went first.

"So, I'll have some Boo-berry Poltergeist pancakes, with two sunny side up eggs and a side of bacon?" Dick watched as Danny paused for a moment, let out a little laugh and then started to write before looking to Tim.

"I will have...Ugh, the Wraith waffles with the hunting hashbrowns on the side...please." Dick had seen Tim look less pained over being stabbed than say the wonderful puns.

"Alrighty, anything to drink before I head back and get started on your order?" Holding up a coffee jug in one hand and an orange juice jug in the other, Danny gave a slight smirk.

Perhaps it was the coffee but Tim looked a bit less pained after that.

---

As he slapped down a few pieces of bacon, Danny totally didn't use his ghost powers to bring the bowl of pancake batter over closer as he scooped a ladle full on a freshly buttered side of the flat top, making sure it set first, Danny heard a beep from the frier, heading over he paused to see French fries in there as well.

Shaking his head, he dunked them all into the oil, and moved to set the timer only to see it already clicking down, "Oh um...thank you very much." Patting the deep frier, Danny moved back to the flat top as it let out a gurgling purr.

---

Tim took all of five seconds after Danny rounded the corner into the back of the house to start whispering

"Wing, this place is mocking me. Apple apparition pie? Haunting Hashbrowns? Ethereal fucking eggs benedict." Hissing Tim shifted in his seat, "like I would get it if this place was ghost themed but it very clearly isnt! It is mocking me because I know this place doesn't exist!" Slamming a fist down on the counter, it very much thudded.

Sharing a look with Tim, Dick placed a hand on Tim's shoulder, "Buddy...I agree there is something up with this place but...I very much think it exists? Since we are kinda sitting here."

Dragging his hand down his face with a groan Tim leaned back in his seat, "I know and it is infuriating me..." Grabbing the coffee mug Tim looked at it with a not insignificant amount of distrust before taking a swig, pausing, than taking another, much slower sip, holding the mug with both hands as he lowered it down, staring at the dark liquid with a small glare.

"Red? You okay? Is that the bad coffee look ot oh shittake mushrooms that was poisoned look?" Dick said worryingly, looking to the cup of orange juice that was in front of him with suspicion.

"N-no...I" Tim's words cut off as he took a breath, "Just...tastes just like the kind Mom used to drink, came from this little town in Chile they passed through..." staring at the cup a little longer Tim shook his head, "They closed a few years back, the farmer that made it got killed by a drug cartel that wanted him to plant coca rather than coffee, it's just that this place should very much not have this."

There was a tension between the two vigilantes, Dick moving to speak before being cut off by Danny quickly coming out from the back.

"Order up! Got two pancakes for Mr. Nightwing, side of bacon and eggs and two waffles for Mr. Red Robin with some hasbrowns!" Setting each plate down in front of said vigilante, Danny gave them both a grin.

"And a side of Phantom fries for both of you on the house!"

After refilling the little bit missing out of Tim's cup, Danny seemed to be to there one second and back in the kitchen a moment later.

---

"Phantom fries?" Danny whispered to himself as he started to clean off the griddle, a grin on his face as he did, he might of left the hero business, but oh God was it funny, he wondered if other people got the same fun out of it.

Checking out on he customers through the small window to the front, Danny felt his core thrum at the sight of the two eating, it was a different kind of thrum that he got while protecting people, this one...this one gave him a full body shudder and cleared a fog in his mind he didn't even he had.

Shaking his head, Danny tried not to let the purr building in his chest out.

---

Screw the worries that Tim had, Dick was having the time of his life.

"We can't tell the others about this place Red...Little wing would try and place it in the Alley and B might try and buy it cus holy guacamole this shit is good..." Dick had dug in after Tim's wrist mounted computer had tested the food for any known poisons which said that there weren't any, but still went and saved a few samples for further analysis at the Cave.

Dick didn't know why but the pancakes tasted like those that Alfred made the first week he had been at the manor, he had gotten upset at Brcue and hid in the attic all day, but Alfred managed to lure him down with the promise of blueberries in his pancakes.

They were perfectly fluffy, butter soaked with that little edge around it that was crunchy, the berries were tart enough to battle the maple syrup and...it was just like how Dick remembered.

Shaking his head as he finished up his food, Dick threw a look over at Tim, who was hunched over his empty plate, holding his mug of coffee closer, at Dicks questioning look the teen spoke.

"We have to leave Wing something is just...off about this place, its...they taste like when my dad used to make breakfast after coming home from a dig...has to be brain waves or mind reading or..." Tim continued to ramble on, ideas flowing out of him like a water fall.

By the time that Danny went back to check on the two, they were gone.

[gloomwitchwrites]

I loved the recent "calling your husband boyfriend on purpose" imagine....what about...

Calling your boyfriend husband on ACCIDENT? 😍🤭

By the time that I'm actually getting around to this, "calling your husband boyfriend on purpose" is now no longer recent. Oops! Sorry! (If you want to read that imagine you can find it here.) But is it really an accident? I feel like it could honestly be both, but the accident factor would make the whole thing so much cuter!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, brief alcohol, suggestive themes, established relationship

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Can you help me, John?”

“Yeah, love. Give me a minute.”

The counter top is covered in groceries. It’s the first big day in the new apartment with John. The two of you have been dating for a few years now, but this is the first time you’ve properly lived together.

John comes around the corner in nothing but a pair of shorts. He’s a bit sweaty from building furniture.

“There’s ice cream. Don’t want it to melt.”

“Course.” He gives you a quick kiss before digging through the bags, removing items as he goes.

The two of you work seamlessly, putting away all the groceries quickly.

“Give me a kiss.”

John grins, and goes in for a tooth-achingly sweet one.

“Thanks, hubby.”

The word is out without thought. You don’t even realize you’ve said it until John blinks, a bit startled.

“Hubby?”

You don’t know what to say. You’re staring at him, a bit flustered.

But John smiles. He leans in, stealing another kiss. “You want to marry me?”

“Do you want to marry me?” you counter.

“You proposing?” teases John.

“Stop answering my question with a question.”

John chuckles and pulls you close. “Wifey sounds good on you.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“The husband will love this!”

Husband slips out naturally, as if you and Kyle have always been together. The two of you have been dating for years, but there is no marriage. There isn’t even an engagement. But Kyle isn’t around to hear the slip up—at least, you don’t think so.

The store assistant smiles. “Happy to help,” she says brightly before walking away.

You exhale slowly, and turn around, nearly smacking into Kyle.

“Holy shit,” you say, placing your hand on your chest. “You startled me.”

Kyle has a smirk on his face with arms crossed over his chest. “Did I hear you correctly?”

“That I swore?” you ask, perplexed.

“No,” he laughs. “You called me your husband.”

Oh shit.

“You heard that?”

Kyle leans in as if he’s about to tell you a secret. “I did.”

“And?” you prompt, trying to brush this off as nothing.

Kyle shrugs. “Think I like it.”

You blink. “You like it.”

Kyle glances around but there isn’t anyone nearby. He takes a step into your space, lowering his head as if to kiss you. “Say it again.”

You lick your lips. “Husband.”

“Again.”

“Husband.”

Kyle closes the distance, stealing a kiss.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Across the pub, your boyfriend is ordering drinks at the bar.

The two of you are enjoying a free weekend. They are few since Simon is always working—always off on some mission.

What isn’t all that nice is the woman talking to Simon at the bar. He’s politely ignoring her, but she clearly cannot take a hint. She’s smiling at Simon like she wants to climb him. Plus, you’re feeling bold. You have a few drinks in you at this point. The liquor is hot. It is poison.

And you’re ready to strike. Show some fangs.

You stride toward the bar, shoving yourself between the woman and Simon. Wrapping your arms around Simon’s waist, you snuggle up to him.

“Hello, husband,” you croon.

Simon’s mouth quirks with amusement as the woman behind you snorts and makes a flippant remark.

Going up on your toes, you reach for a kiss, and Simon obliges. It is slow. Wet. Way too intimate for such a public setting. You kiss him like you’re starved.

When the two of you part, the woman is gone.

Simon’s hand dives, grabbing your ass in a possessive hold. “Husband?”

“It slipped.”

“Sure it did, love,” laughs Simon.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“This is John. My husband.”

Husband.

The word slips out and you’re not able to draw it back. You can’t correct yourself. Not in front of your peers. You’ve fumbled this completely.

Johnny’s eyebrows rise toward his hairline, his gaze pointed as he glances at you. But he doesn’t correct you either, and you decide to roll with it.

“That’s lovely,” replies your boss. “How long have you two been married?”

This is a new job. It’s the first company party you’re attending, and bringing a plus one is encouraged.

But you’re not able to answer. Johnny steps up and takes the lead.

“Newly,” he says, grinning like it’s true.

Your boss laughs. “That accent! My goodness. Scottish?”

“Aye. Born and bred.”

“How lovely.”

Johnny inclines his head. His hand delicately grabs your arm, pulling you in. “Pleasure meeting you.”

The two of you move on, but Johnny takes a turn, drawing you to the side, his head lowered.

“Husband?” he asks with a cheeky grin.

“It slipped out,” you mutter.

“Your coworkers are gonna think you’re a married woman.”

“I know.”

“Should make it official,” shrugs Johnny.

“What?”

He lightly bumps your shoulder with his own. “You heard me.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@pearljamislife @ash-tarte @eternallyvenus @gingergirl06 @arrozyfrijoles23

[gomtotemeal]

And so a month after they built the fifth Wal-Mart in our county, a little coffee shop opened just a few yards away.  

My coworker Rick said it looked like a giant amoeba just waiting to absorb any surrounding properties.

“The coffee shop?” I asked.

“No, Wal-Mart is the amoeba.”

“Oh.”

When I got back to my desk, I typed ‘amoeba’ into Google and realized that I had incorrectly pictured a centipede.

“To hell with Rick,” I thought. “I don’t need any more friends, anyway. I’m on friend overload.”

At dinner that night, the Wal-Mart came up again when my wife Diane mentioned how ugly it was to see another gigantic shopping center taking up space in our town.

“It looks like a giant amoeba just waiting to absorb that little coffee shop,” I said. “And then the coffee shop is like a centipede.”

“I don’t think amoebas eat centipedes. And besides, that’s the point.”

Diane went on to explain that the coffee shop, though legitimate and functioning by all measures, was really an art piece constructed by a group of private donors in response to the new Wal-Mart.

“The idea is that we’re intentionally not supposed to go to the coffee shop. That way, Wal-Mart customers will be forced to observe the gradual decay of a local business every time they enter the store.”

“Well, I’ve been going there all week,” I said. “I think the coffee is top-notch stuff. Plus, it’s on my way to work.”

“The coffee is supposed to be mediocre,” said Diane. “Keeping within the budget of most struggling businesses. It’s supposed to be virtually undrinkable.”

“Hmm…well I really like it.”

“Well, you can’t keep going or else you’ll ruin the project.”

“This is America,” I said. “And if I want a cup of mediocre, overpriced coffee, by god I will have it!”

Over the next several months, I kept drinking the coffee. Some days I even went twice. The quality of the coffee, I was told, gradually worsened as a result of my unwavering interest, but I never noticed and so I had no choice but to doubt the rumors.

My doubt remained intact even after overhearing a private conversation between the coffee shop’s manager and the cashier. I was standing by a tree and watching a teenager back his car into another car and I guess they didn’t see me.

“I know,” said the cashier. “I’ve tried that, but it’s like he doesn’t have taste buds.”

“Well, he’s single-handedly fucking up this entire thing.”

“So what then, poison? Would he even drink poison?”

“Now, that’s an interesting idea.”

“Stupid teenage drivers,” I thought.

In the end, they poisoned the coffee. I made it a month after that, but my failing eyesight and ravaged kidneys eventually left me bed-ridden.

“Well, they just opened another location,” said Diane. “Business is booming. I hope you’re happy.”

And I wasn’t happy, but I was somehow content and I thought about everything then: Wal-Mart, art projects, even little amoebas crawling through the forest, one-hundred legs working beautifully in tandem.

“Nobody ever wins in these kinds of things,” said Diane.

“But if you had to pick a winner, you’d probably pick me because the coffee shop was on my way to work.”

Diane sighed and left the room. I dozed off and in my dream, they did pick a winner. They picked me and I was led over to a small stage to choose my prize: A brand new recliner or two new kidneys!

“The recliner,” I inquired. “How far back are we talking?”

[maxlarens]

⭐️ oscar + one has an obvious crush, the other is totally oblivious orrrrr secret relationship + someone finding out

hehe okay i did obvious crush but i do love secret relationship

“You’re not subtle,” Lando bumps against your shoulder as he sidles into your space.

You feel something warm spread across your cheeks, you try to hide it by scowling as you take the drink that Lando offers. You tear your eyes away from Oscar, pretending you weren’t watching him talk to Max with an intensity that rivals your focus on track.

“Can you fuck off,” you gripe.

“Nah,” then, he’s shouting, “Hey! Oscar!”

You’re going to kill Lando Norris, you decide. You’ll run him off track during the next race and pray he goes careening into a wall, you’ll put rat poison in the next drink you hand him, you’ll— and oh my god Oscar’s coming over.

It’s not that you can’t be around him. You can. You’re friends. It’s just that lately, your crush is turning into this unignorable thing. You can’t stop watching the way his expressions morph, exposing what he’s feeling so clearly, as if he’s not even controlling it. His teeth on his bottom lip, the freckles on his neck, the stubble on his chin. And he’s wearing this black t-shirt that you hate so much because of how he looks in it.

It makes you angry. It makes you want to claw your hair out of your head. But you also kind of don’t want to ever leave his side.

“Hey,” Oscar greets, smiling with his teeth in a way that makes you a bit woozy, “What’s up?”

“See,” Lando nudges you, sending you careening to the side, your drink sloshing over your hand, “No idea.”

You whip your head around to glare at Lando, you jab him sharply in the arm with a knuckle, briefly forgetting Oscar in your rage, “You little arsehole.”

Lando makes a noise halfway between a giggle and an exclamation of pain, “Don’t punch me, you shit.”

“Huh,” Oscar furrows his eyebrows, laughing a little at your antics, “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” you snap, before realising you sound like a total freak, “Nothing. Lando’s just being a cock as usual.”

Oscar’s eyebrow goes further up and you’re biting the inside of your lip to stop from smiling, to stop from reeling forward and kissing him right then and there.

“Okay,” he says slowly, a bit amused, a bit baffled.

You know you’re staring at him, but you can’t seem to stop. He’s looking at you with a soft squinty smile and your head feels light, like it’s going to float right off your body and up into the rafters—

then Lando snorts. Loud, obnoxious and totally obvious.

You’re really going to kill him one day.

join in on my 1k celebration

[delirious-donna]

Just Call My Name, I'm Yours To Tame [Nanami Kento]

an: running late is Kento’s idea of hell, but even more so when you’re waiting for him. If he’s not careful, someone else might swoop in and try to steal you away, but you’d never go… right?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warning: unwanted attention from a male stranger, uninvited touching, pissed off Kento, implied violence (not involving reader), hasty sex, semi-public fucking, Kento wants to rub himself all over you

Masterlist

Kento hated running late, it wasn't a simple mild annoyance but a deep abhorrence at the lack of punctuality. It was his belief that if you had the manners to arrange to meet at a specific time, you should do everything to keep your word. He was an old soul, as you often teased him, and good manners cost nothing in his eyes.

Cursing the inept Gojo Satoru, a man meant to be his elder and ‘superior’, for being unable to write up his reports without assistance at every turn, he scowled and glanced at his watch once more. In his mind, he was concocting retribution befitting of his ego and idiocy, the ghost of a smile forming on his lips as he hurried along.

Thirty minutes late…

Oh, he wanted to claw at his skin. The discomfort of his lateness darkened his mood on an evening which was meant to be fun. He was meant to meet you at the small bar you had discovered a few weeks back, conveniently not far from his apartment which meant on that first fateful night it made tumbling home easy whilst you loosened his shirt and tie, and he left his mark on the skin of your collarbone.

Those tantalising memories had the grace to relieve the worst of the anger bubbling inside him like a volcano ready to erupt at any moment, thoughts of Gojo’s smirking face and the traffic that seemed intent on keeping him from you melted into the periphery. All he needed was to set his sights on your pretty face and all would be right again.

What he wasn’t expecting when he finally rounded the door to the bar, eyes scanning through the Friday night crowds, and what he absolutely did not need given his current temperament was to discover you being harassed.

His hand tightened into a fist, which he slowly released as he blew out a controlled breath. You were seated at your favourite section of the bar—close enough to the bartenders that drinks would never run dry but removed enough that quiet conversation was easy. Kento's glance cut to your outfit, much to his immediate shame, taking in the skirt that you knew was his very favourite and the sentiment was clearly shared by the man leaning in much too close.

Whilst he could see why this stranger admired your shapely legs, the soft spread of your thighs and the curve leading to generous hips, you were not enjoying the attention and he was far from being subtle in his interest. Any sane person could see that you were slowly inching away from him, but drunk on his poison of choice and probably a hefty dose of adrenaline given how often and fidgety his hand ran through his greasy hair, the man was ignoring your rebuff. Instead, he shuffled even closer with drool practically hanging from his open mouth.

His rising temper was curtailed by an unexpected hint of humour, his imposing frame blocked the entrance and left other patrons to squeeze around him rather than ask him to move whilst he observed your short, curt nods in response to the man's questions. Your entire stance, mannerisms, and the way you turned in your seat to give him your back all screamed 'fuck off' in the politest way possible. You were too good for him, far more restrained than he would be at the unwanted attention. It made him want to laugh, and that was far more welcome than the fury beating deeper in his heart.

You were no damsel in distress, but when the man reached out to touch the side of your knee, he knew it was time to announce his presence and put a stop to this pathetic display. Kento’s neck cracked from side to side, and he moved off with purpose from where he had been standing.

Discreetly you tapped your phone to life and glanced at the time, frowning at the continued absence of the man you were meant to be meeting. A low sigh eased past your lips as you continued to ignore your annoyingly persistent admirer. Kento was late and it just wasn't like him.

Worry was beginning to gnaw in the pit of your belly, only incited by the flashes of irritation at the man that you could only describe as a pervert. Not only had he seated himself despite you assuring him that it was taken, but he also openly leered at your chest and legs.

You wondered if you should call him, biting your lip in indecision and tapping anxiously at the green call symbol next to his name, but it was all for naught.

A figure caught your attention from the corner of your eye; blond perfectly parted hair, broad shoulders and an unreadable expression—Kento had arrived and was heading straight for you, his eyes burning holes into you.

You weren’t quite ready to throw yourself into his arms, although you were tempted if it finally gave this pest the hint he needed to beat it, but your thoughts were cut short by a clammy hand on your knee. Disgust rose in your throat at being touched without your consent.

The hand didn’t remain there long.

There was a muffled scream as your view of the unwanted admirer became obscured behind a broad back. His navy shirt looked close to breaking point as the threads at the seams strained to contain the strength of your beau, his biceps flexing whilst you were left to wonder exactly what he had done—although you could guess.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting, sweetheart. I was held up by an idiot," he soothed, finally turning to cup your chin in his large palm. His thumb stroked along your jawline as the other hand landed on the seated flare of your hip. His hold was firm, deft fingers sinking into your plush flesh and kneading you just how you liked.

You barely took note of the man leaving the bar with his hand cradled to his chest, the fingers looking bent into an unnatural position and very red. It was hard to care when you were caught fast in the snare of being able to breathe in the scent of your man. The only man that mattered, was the one looking at you with an expression you weren’t entirely familiar with.

"Where are we going?" you asked breathlessly. With one fluid movement, you allowed him to pull up from the seat and into the warmth of his body, his chest shielding you from those around who were turning to look your way.

"Home, sweetheart."

Except it wasn’t the complete truth. You found that out when your spine arched off the wall, shoulders digging into the brickwork as Kento held your weight around his waist as if it were nothing. With his zipper undone enough to allow his cock to slip free, and your underwear shoved roughly into the crease of your thigh, he took you like he never had before. He dropped you down onto him again with fervour, swallowing your whine and feeding you his own rumbling groan.

He was possessed with the need to reclaim you, to rub his scent across every bare inch of your skin and the desire couldn’t be contained. You were thankful for the shadow-polluted back alley running behind the bar. Eternally grateful that it wasn’t yet dark enough for the streetlights to illuminate the lewd scene in which you were playing a starring role. The shadows wrapped around the hunched form of Kento, his frame hiding you from sight except for your legs around his hips.

Rough, calloused hands smoothed your bare thighs, hiking your skirt even higher as he groped at you in desperation. It was so unlike him, to see him so raw and in need of you. Your cunt clenched around his hard length, rolling yourself to meet his frantic thrusts halfway, the haze of an impending orgasm dulling your senses down to the only one that mattered—the feel of him fucking up against your g-spot.

With your fingers entwined with his, dizzy and all too giddy from the quick hit of dopamine, you skipped along towards his apartment. The lazy, self-assured smile he wore had you clenching all over again, dancing closer to him and leaning up to press a kiss to the bobbing swell of his Adam’s apple.

You should have known that he wasn’t done, in fact, he wouldn’t be satisfied for some time to come. Kento let out a low roar like some feral beast the second the door slammed shut behind his back. Taking off like a drunk gazelle, you ran and he chased you down the hall to the shrieks of your laughter until he had you caged against yet another wall.

"Kento... you’re acting beastly!"

His answer was to open his jaw, teeth snapping around the slender column of your throat and his tongue working into the hollow. He nipped and bit his way around your throat, holding you in the cage of his arms without sign of release.

“I am a beast, darling. When it comes to you… I’ll never stop reminding you that I am the one you chose, and never stop proving exactly why you love falling into my bed.”

[ellecdc]

Love that you’ve opened requests for Finnick!

Would you write for finnick x reader established relationship? but Peeta and Katniss think it’s all for show (kind of how Finnick saw them originally)

during the 75th games overnight as the poison fog comes through reader gets swallowed up and they loose sight of her, but have to keep moving. Of course they loose Mags, and maybe the canon goes off (for another tribute) and finnick is tangibly heartbroken thinking it’s her.

The next day she wanders onto the beach with Johanna and the rest, having survived by hiding in the waterways.

Lovely happy ending lovers reunion moment💘

thanks for your request! I've had this more or less done for a few days but I'm not sure how I feel about it...hopefully I did an okay job, but I figured I might as well post it. thanks to @unstablereader for parsing this out with me <3

Finnick Odair x victor!reader during the 75th Hunger Games [1.4k words]

CW: fem!reader, blood rain, mention of death, reader goes into a bit of shock, Finnick handles it expertly, Johanna being the problematic queen that she is

Finnick tried really hard not to act as petulant as he felt, but between his stress, his grief, and the fucking heat, he was sure he was failing in his feat. 

“She’s probably fine, yeah?” Peeta (stupidly) tried, shooting a nervous glance between Finnick who was brooding near the water's edge and Katniss who was pouting near the tree line. “She won her own games; she can hold her own.” 

“I just don’t understand what the point of having a look-out was if you were going to lose an entire woman.” Finnick finally shouts then, holding his hands out in front of him helplessly. 

“The point of a look-out was to look out for threats, not babysit your girlfriend.” Katniss all but sneered in return.

“Oh? And what exactly do you call what I’ve been doing for you and your husband these past few days then, hm?” 

“I don’t need nor did I ask to be babysat!” 

“Well, someone smarter than you begged to differ, yeah? I’m inclined to agree.” Finnick spat before making to stand. 

“...nanny of the year award after this…”  Finnick muttered to himself as he stalked back up to the tree line to get another drink of water. He’d been sick with worry after hearing a second canon after they lost Mags in the fog, and there’d been no signs of you since. He thought he might actually call the whole plan off if your face lit up the sky tonight.

The sound of trees rustling and a grunt had all three tributes standing at the ready with their weapons drawn, watching the tree line and waiting for the cause of the noise to show itself. 

“Oh Johanna…” the unmistakable sound of your (rather disappointed) voice rang out. “Be nice to her.” 

Johanna let out a frustrated shriek as they watched her appear from the trees and all but shove what looked to be Wiress towards the water. 

“Yes! Yes! We all know, Nuts! Tick tock, tick tock. Get to the water!” 

“Johanna!” You barked.

Finnick’s lips formed your name before he was rushing across the beach to you; barely sparing a moment to look you over before his trident was dropped into the sand, freeing his arms to loop around your middle and lift you into the air. 

“Fucking finally,” Johanna sighed in obvious relief as she finally pushed Wiress into the saltwater, “someone with a vocabulary of more than four words.”

“Beetee and I have a vocabulary of more than five words…” You replied, though your argument was someone lost in Finnick’s chest where he had your face shielded. 

“Unless you plan on offing her, Odair, you might want to let your girlfriend breathe.” Johanna called.

“Babe what the fuck?” He hissed as he pulled you away from him, only then registering the fact that you were covered head to toe in…blood? “What the fuck!?”

“Before you get mad; it’s not my blood, and look who I found!” You placated quickly, gesturing to the three tributes you’d shown up with.

“What were you thinking, Y/N!?” He asked you then, shaking you gently by the shoulders. “What happened!?”

“I’m sorry!” You nearly keened, looking very contrite. “I was just so thirsty and so I figured while everyone slept I’d go look for water. I heard what sounded like rain so I went running, and the next thing I knew I couldn’t see a damn thing!”

“She didn’t so much as find us as she actually slammed directly into Nuts over here.” Johanna translated for Finnick. 

“Sorry Wiress.” You offered the woman sheepishly who simply waved as she continued her little clock song in turn.

“What happened to all of you?” Peeta asked then, suddenly directly behind Finnick and alerting him to the fact that all of you were covered in the crimson mess.

“What happened, Mellark,” Johanna hissed as she made to stalk over, completely ignoring the way Katniss’ bow was locked and loaded and pointing at her in the very next second, “was that your darling wife wanted Nuts and Bolts over here, so what did I do? I got her Nuts and Bolts! Then this one had the brilliant idea of wandering off when she was supposed to be with you idiots, and the three of you - fearsome victors that you are - let her! And where’s my thanks, huh? Who’s running through the sand to come find me?”

Finnick had the decency to offer her a guilty look, but she offered him an unimpressed smirk and fluttered her eyes in a half eye roll before she turned her glare back towards District Twelve’s lovebirds. 

“Couldn’t even celebrate the rain and finally having access to water because it was fucking blood!” She continued, now directing her ire to the sky.

“It rained blood?” Peeta murmured quietly then.

“So much blood...” You answered solemnly; hair cracking when you nodded due to the semi-dried substance coating it as you stared unseeingly at the trees with a haunted expression on your face. 

“Let’s get you washed off then, hm?” Finnick asked as he directed you towards the waters edge, though he kept Johanna’s eye contact as he said it. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’re just dying to see what I look like underneath all of this, Odair.” 

“Nothing we haven’t already seen, right Peeta?” Finnick tried for levity as he shot the kid a wink, only for Katniss to scowl and elbow him in the ribs. 

Finnick didn’t miss the way you shivered as you got into the water which concerned him seeing as the water was hardly cool enough to be of any relief in this scorching heat. 

“Peeta! Can you bring us water, please?”

“You guys have water!?” Johanna screeched.

“Katniss, can you bring some water to Johanna?” Finnick heard Peeta ask, earning him a petulant “do I have to?” in return.

“She brought you Wiress and Beetee.” Peeta countered, causing his girlfriend - wife? - to glower before doing what she was asked. 

“You doing okay, lovely girl?” Finnick asked as he massaged some of the dried blood from your body, keeping his voice calm even though your sluggish movements and the lack of colour in your lips was causing him great concern. 

“I’m kind of cold, Finn.” You slurred. 

“Cold?” Peeta asked incredulously as he showed up with one of Mags’ woven baskets filled with water.

Finnick hummed in response as he accepted the water from him, holding it up to your lips as he helped you take a drink. “I think she might be in shock.” He explained evenly. 

“She’s in shock? What do we do?” He started, words speeding up as he directed his concern at you.

“Well, we’re going to start with not doing that.” Finnick muttered in reference to his quickly mounting panic. “She’s alright, right honey?”

You hummed in agreement, though you were looking at Finnick with a furrow in your brows. 

“You’re alright.” He repeated, both for your benefit and his own. “I’ve got you now, yeah? We’re okay when we’re together.”

Tears quickly pooled in your eyes before they escaped the corners of your eyes, painting a rather macabre picture through the blood still stuck to your face. 

“M’sorry, Finn.” 

“Don’t be sorry, Y/N.” Finnick murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Just stay with me, okay? No more wandering off; I need you here with me.”

“I’m here.” You murmured, arm rising slowly to trail a finger over the bridge of his nose. “I’m here.” 

“Told you it was real.” Peeta muttered to Katniss then, an inelegant snort from Johanna startling both of them when they realized she was out of the water and standing at their side. 

“The two of you really are dumber than you look.” She taunted.

“I’ll take the first watch.” Finnick shouted before any infighting could start, shooting Katniss a halfhearted glare. “Everybody else rest up.” 

“Can I stay up with you, Finnick?” You murmured, still looking rather dazed as you half floated in the salty water in Finnick’s arms. 

You’d probably be the first to fall asleep, but Finnick didn’t bother telling you that. He simply agreed, pressing another kiss to your head before he continued washing you off.

[draconic-desire]

hiiiii ive been brainrotting abt sunday and his triple face god thing abababah thinking abt him handcuffing reader and interrogating them with the truth thing he does to aventurine ARGHH omg questioning abt who they were with cos hes jealousssss AUGH you dont have to write anything off of this i just hope this inspires you ily

oh you have read my MIND. I’m currently in the middle of writing a fic with dr ratio interrogating reader like he did with mx. stellaron…but now imagining that with sunday?? wow.

i’m totally normal about this man. i swear.

Yan!Sunday x Gn!Reader

Fingers drum on the table, the only break in the suffocating silence engulfing the room.

“I’ll ask you one. Last. Time.” Sunday punctuates each word with another tap of his finger, and you gasp as you feel the Harmony sink its influence another inch further into your skull.

Despite the futility, despite knowing you’ve been trying the same thing over and over again for the past half an hour, you pull at your restraints. The metal chain of the handcuffs skitters along the table, the sound like nails on a chalkboard, but it does not budge from its steel attachment. You’re firmly and inescapably chained to the table in Sunday’s office, with said perpetrator sitting opposite.

He appears calm, but you’ve learned to notice the slight twitch of his eye, the falter in his normal smirk. His patience is one wrong answer away from shattering.

At your silence, he leans back in his chair, shaking his head. His golden gaze is chastising, almost disappointed. “Angel, you know I don’t want to hurt you. Just tell me who you were with.”

You only glare at him in response. Bullshit. You’ve lost count of the amount of times he’s forced truths out of you or affections upon you through the Harmony. The psychedelic pest in your brain is almost the norm by now, a poison he has slowly been feeding you.

Oh, Triple Faced-Soul, please sear their tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that they will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.

Those words are branded into the flesh of your brain, your soul. And tonight, if you tell him what he wants, even more blood will be spilled.

Sunday’s jealously is as calculating as he is. It’s a knife poised at the right angle to spear you, to pin you with accusations that you can’t talk your way out of.

Like in this instance, where he has deluded himself into thinking you are trying to leave him. He’s finally let you out of Dewlight Pavilion (you’ve learned that trying to escape the dreamscape is pointless, so you’ll take your freedoms when you can), and this is the first reaction you’re met with? Being dragged to his office as soon as you returned and invaded, prodded, and violated by the Harmony?

The pressure around your temples tightens another fraction, and you cannot stop the pained cry that escapes you. Rainbow streaks cloud your vision and practically pull the words from your mouth. “I was with friends! We were at the Dreamjolt Hosterly for a couple drinks, that’s it!”

Sunday merely hums as he stands and pads towards you, taking a position at your back. You’re unable to turn around to face him, but you can feel the weight of his presence, the promise of his power, as he wraps a hand around the back of your neck.

His breath tickles the shell of your ear as he leans in and whispers, “Liar.”

One word chills your blood to ice. “I’m not!”

The grip around your neck tightens in tandem with the pressure in your head. “Do you really think you can evade me, (Y/n)? My gales are perched in every region of Penacony, and THEY are by my side. THEY see all, hear all, know all.”

As if on cue, the Harmony rips through your consciousness, and it takes all your willpower not to pass out. Exhausted, you involuntarily lean back into Sunday’s hand, which seems to please him. “Now, tell me the name of the man who dared to touch what is mine.”

Clenching your eyes shut, you shake your head. You’re out of breath and stumbling along your words. “He was just being friendly, and he was drunk, we all were, and all he did was kiss my cheek; it was a dare, and I swear to you, Sunday, we’re just friends—”

“(Y/n),” Sunday interrupts. “His name.”

The finality in the Family head’s words sends your heart plummeting. You feel your resolve slip as the Harmony tightens its grip and goes in for the kill. You speak the name aloud, barely a whisper, and know that you’ve just delivered the man’s fate.

In your half-conscious state, you barely register Sunday removing your cuffs and scooping you into his arms. He tucks you into his chest bridal-style, his wings fluttering across your face. “You did well, my angel.”

“Please,” you breathe, your voice wobbly with tears, even as you feel the Harmony retreat from your senses—for now. “Don’t hurt him.”

Sunday merely leans his head down to place a kiss along your temple. “Enough of that,” he scolds. “The only man you should be thinking about is me. After all, it is an angel’s duty to obey their god without question.”

And Sunday is, if anything, a vengeful god.

For that night was the last that you ever saw your friend. Death in dreams was your only reality.

[sheep-from-rad]

How would the batfamily react if they found out that the singer/influencer reader was dating one of the villains?, imagine the reader has friends with benefits from the villains

(What kind of jokes do you like?)

Batman is so scary, even bullets are afraid to hit him. That's why they aimed for his parents. (sorry)

anon 🦌

Note: 🦌anon please send more jokes. After the Solmare announcement regarding the Obey me series, I am one push away from drinking every wine in my fridge.I’m gonna need more jokes (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) I don't give permission to have my fics posted to other sites, copied, or fed to AI. Thank you.

Masterlist 

divider by: @strangergraphics-archive and @strangergraphics. Please do support them ♡

You heard that? That’s the collective sign of every Batfamily member sighing in disappointment and collective glare towards Bruce. Like father like child, of all genes to be inherit you inherited his taste (ಠ_ಠ). Getting entangled with a villain is not something new in the Batfamily because they are either related to one (Cassandra, Stephanie, Damian) or romantically involved with one (Bruce with Talia, Poison Ivy, Catwoman and sometimes Harley. Dick with Catwoman II. And Jason with… you know what let’s not talk about Talia and Jason. That one is weird on all levels). 

If you’re romantically involved with someone who does not know Batman’s real identity then it’s not much of a problem. The family is just going to visit said enemy and scar them for the rest of their mortal life. It will be so bad they will just quit being a villain and leave Gotham all together. If you’re romantically involved with someone who knows Batman’s real identity, then it will be a chaotic event. Bruce is already fighting villains and now he’s fighting his blood pressure too. 

Riddler would be so smug about it. He would rub it in every Batfamily member’s face and would constantly drop your name in fights like ‘How would they react if you hurt me?’ or ‘Oh they will be mad if I come back bruised!’. Riddler would be so insufferable like the madman he is. If you’re dating Harvey Dent, you’re technically dating two persons (in most media depictions, Harvey is the same age as Bruce so let’s go with that one). His incorruptible part is basically filling every space that Bruce neglected to fill. He’ll teach you about legals and laws, tell you stories about their days and he protects you from those who dare to come close. His corrupted part, Two face, is kind of mean. He will never miss the chance to remind you of the potential parental issues you have. 

Headcanon that Harley will make it her mini mission to keep you away from Joker because let’s face it, Joker will not love you. He will only use you and break you like how he did to Harley. 

Honestly, it doesn’t matter if the relationship you have is good or bad. To the family it’s a parasite that needs to be terminated immediately before it grows. You’re grounded. You’re not allowed to go out alone. If you don’t live in the estate anymore, you will just randomly find your apartment sold to someone else and you’ll be taken back to the estate. No metahumans in Gotham rule but Damian already has the permission from Bruce to have the Titans stay for a while as reinforcements. Even Jason is patrolling more and everyday now he will make a report to the estate. 

During those days they were full on babying you to the point of infantilization. They’ll give you ‘the talk’ especially if you’re in a friends with benefits relationship with a villain and sometimes they’ll go so far into showing you every other person they had been with. They are not above poisoning the relationship too. They’ll show you expertly doctored photos showing their ‘infidelity’. Guilt trip you into reading old cases and gaslight you. You’re not in love with them, you were just manipulated into thinking that you are. 

But of course, what is a Wayne if not stubborn? Month of being grounded and being in heavy watch and you’re done. You already have their shifts memorized down to who checks on you at night. After hours once you’re certain that everyone is now asleep or busy on their patrols (or finished checking your room), you start acting out the plan of running away. You passed each security detail without triggering them, passed every room without alerting anyone, and passed Titus without waking him up. However before you can even reached the doorknob, you heard Dick and Jason behind you:

“Looks like someone took lessons from Catwoman” 

“You know we saw your lover today. We were going to let them go but I guess no one’s picking you up anymore” 

The next time you wake up, you are greeted by the fresh warm breeze and the sound of water hitting the shore. As you descended down the stairs, news about a villain going missing was on the headlines along with the date on the screen saying ‘Thursday’. It has been three days since you got caught by Jason and Dick and Tim just entered the door carrying take outs from Mad Yak cafe. You’re in Happy Harbor, far away from Gotham and your lover is missing. Was the no kill rule violated? You can only pray it’s not.

[emmyrosee]

EMMY NOW THAT I KNOW YOUVE WATCHED GMM. HEAR ME OUT. DAD!ATSUMU AND UNCLE!SAMU TRYING BREASTMILK AND HAVING THE SAME REACTION AS RHETT AND LINK.

FIRBDODNDOD NO BC THEY SEE YOU DAB AND LICK THE MILK OFF YOUR WRISTS AND COMPLETELY FREAK OUT

“Can you drink that?!”

“What does it taste like?”

“Why do you do that?”

“Is it warm?”

You snicker at all these questions and nudge the bottle towards atsumu, “taste it and find out, baby.”

And atsumu winces, but inevitably takes the warm bottle of milk in his hands, eyes flicking between you and Hisako and the bottle. “Are you sure this is safe to drink?”

“It’s breast milk for our baby, not rat poison,” you scoff. You make a grabby hand for it, “look, if you’re not going to try it, give it back so we can feed our child?”

“I’m gonna try it, but I need to work up the courage first.”

“You’re literally a professional athlete.”

“Here, can I try it?” Osamu asks, and while you nod, Atsumu looks at him incredulously.

“You’re asking me if you can try my wife’s breast milk?”

“It’s not like he’s suckling straight from the teat,” you giggle. “Just- here. Try it. It’ll bring you closer to your niece.”

Osamu dabs a little on his wrist as his brother did, and the twins look at each other before licking it off of their wrist, and you cackle as you watch their face go from curious to straight up disgusted.

“Ohhh dear god.”

“That’s vile.”

“That came out of you?!”

“Oh- that… that’s actually disgusting.”

“Babies got it bad, brother.”

“Is it expired?”

“You two are so dramatic,” you snicker, grabbing the bottle back and popping it in Hisako’s mouth. “It’s just breast milk.”

“Have you seen the way she cries for this stuff?” Atsumu says, shocked. “Babies have no taste buds, I’m going to start giving her protein shakes instead.”

“You absolutely will not be doing that, actually.”

[crescenthistory]

and what about it?

Summary: Continuation of this storyline. Barty and you keep bickering, to everyone's chagrin and no one's surprise – until you kiss, that is.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: not proofread, use of y/n, absolute chaos going down, bickering, flirting, barty being maniacal and a bit masochistic, jegulus and wolfstar as supportive characters, literally everyone is silly in this

Note: you demand and i supply! i love these idiots

next part here!

The Hogwarts library was filled by a mix of quiet whispers and faint shuffling, with students huddled at tables pretending to study for the upcoming exams. In the very back, though, far away from the more studious lot, the Marauders and company had claimed their usual table, where studying was more of a suggestion than an actual plan.

James and Regulus sat closest to the end of the long table, side by side in that annoyingly close way that proved they were still very much in their honeymoon phase. James had his chair tilted back, arms stretched out casually behind Regulus, while Regulus, with an almost imperceptible smile, tried to look like he was paying attention to his Potions book.

“You know, love,” James started, leaning in a little closer to Regulus, “you don’t actually have to study right now. We could always… take a break.”

“Take a break from what exactly?” Sirius interjected, still hunched over the parchment he was doodling on. “You haven’t done a single productive thing in the last hour, Prongs.”

James huffed, but didn’t move away from Regulus, who was still pretending he couldn’t hear any of them. “I don’t see you doing any work, Pads.”

Sirius glanced at his doodles – an elaborate sketch of a Quidditch goal post being struck by lightning – before smirking. “This is art, mate. Very productive.”

Remus, who was sitting beside Sirius and perhaps the only one taking actual notes, sighed without looking up. “You two are hopeless. Some of us are actually trying to pass our exams.”

“Oh, Moony, live a little,” Sirius grinned, pushing his sketch toward him. “What do you think? Could sell this to the Daily Prophet, right?”

Remus didn’t even spare it a glance. “Absolutely not.”

Across the table, you were trying your best to focus on the notes in front of you, quill scratching against parchment. But the conversation around you, mixed with the ongoing flirtation between James and Regulus, was doing its best to pull you out of your concentration.

“Regulus, would you mind being disgustingly in love with Jamie a bit quieter?” you groaned, tossing your quill down in frustration, no longer inhibited around Regulus after the past few months. “Some of us are trying to focus.”

Regulus did not deign you with a glance, though his lips quirked up slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sirius snorted. “Yeah, right. You’ve been staring at Prongs like he’s your favourite broomstick all day. You two are worse than me when I got my new motorbike.”

“Oh, don’t act like you weren’t gushing about that motorbike for literal months,” James fired back, a grin spreading across his face. “This is karma, mate.”

Before Sirius could come up with a retort, you shot another glare at James and Regulus, feeling your patience wearing thin. “I swear, if I have to witness one more doe-eyed moment between you two, I’m hexing you both.”

Barty, who had been uncharacteristically quiet up until now, leaned back in his chair beside you, smirking. “What did love ever do to you, Treasure?”

You shot him an unimpressed look. “It's quite obnoxious, for one.”

Barty grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Don't you want to be obnoxiously in love?” he teased.

"I'd rather drink poison. Which I will, if you don't start focusing on our potions project soon." You rapped the textbook in front of him with your quill.

“Oh, come now, darling, you know I'd never do that to you,” Barty teased, lowering his voice in that infuriatingly smug way. “And there's no need to be jealous of Reggie – you could have all this romance if you wanted.”

You fixed him with a deadpan look. “With you? I’d rather go mad.”

“Already driving you mad, am I?” Barty shot back smoothly, leaning in just enough to make the air between you shift. “I must be doing something right.”

Sirius let out a loud, exaggerated groan from across the table. “Merlin, can you two ever go five minutes without throwing insults at each other?”

“No,” you and Barty said in unison, which earned a laugh from Remus and an eye roll from Sirius.

“I think they secretly like it,” James chimed in, finally pulling his attention away from Regulus just long enough to catch the tail end of your and Barty’s exchange. “You know, some people just communicate through bickering. It's their language.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at James. “I don’t bicker. He bickers. I’m just trying to survive.”

“You wound me,” Barty said, pressing a hand to his chest with mock hurt. “And here I thought you enjoyed our little chats.”

“If by ‘chats’ you mean listening to you go on and on about how brilliant you think you are, then sure,” you shot back, arching an eyebrow. “I live for those.”

“I am brilliant, though,” Barty replied, completely unfazed, his smirk growing even wider. “You’ve just yet to admit it.”

You snorted. “The only thing brilliant about you is your ability to push my buttons, when we should be studying, Junior.”

“No need to study when we both know I'll ace it regardless." You hated that he was right. "I prefer putting in the work where it matters."

You quirked a brow at him. “Sounds like laziness to me.”

“It's called priorities,” he corrected, eyes gleaming with amusement. “And right now, my priority is sitting right in front of me.”

The groan that escaped your lips was loud enough to draw the attention of a few nearby students, but you couldn’t care less. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“Because it’s true.”

“And yet, you keep sitting next to me. Interesting.”

Sirius, clearly unable to help himself, let out another exaggerated sigh. “Merlin, they’re at it again. Can someone put a Silencing Charm on them?”

Remus, who had been quietly enjoying the exchange, smiled into his notes. “I’d say just let them go. They’re only warming up.”

“You’re probably right,” Sirius agreed, glancing between you and Barty as if you couldn't hear him. “Let’s see how long it takes before one of them snaps.”

You rolled your eyes again. “Don't worry, Black, I’m already nearing my limit.”

“Then do something about it, love,” Barty purred, his grin turning devilish.

You leaned in slightly, narrowing your eyes. “I will, as soon as I figure out which hex will shut you up for good.”

Before he could retort, you flicked your wand under the table, sending a tiny jolt toward him that caused him to yelp and jerk back, the smirk dropping from his face momentarily.

James burst out laughing, nearly toppling over his chair. “Oh, that was brilliant.”

Regulus, who had been watching the whole thing with a half-hidden smile, shook his head. “She's going to kill him one day.”

“That’s the plan,” you muttered under your breath, though a small, victorious smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

Barty, however, recovered quickly, his smirk returning full force. “Oh, you love me too much to kill me.”

"I tolerate you at best, Junior."

"Same difference."

"I really don't think it is," James interjected, seemingly lost as his usual role of peacekeeper doesn't work with you and Barty.

"Oh, you just don't know her like I do." Barty's eyes gleamed as he stared at you.

The glare you shot him then was half-hearted at best. “Don’t push it.”

"You know I will," Barty said and winked at you, before closing the small distance between you to press a chaste peck to your lips.

It was quick, casual, and without any fanfare, just a soft press of lips, like it was the most natural thing in the world – because to you it was. You simply hummed into him before finally turning your head down back towards your notes with a satisfied smile, happy for the distracting conversation to be over.

"Excuse me what?!"

You hadn't even spent more than a second looking at your notes before you were interrupted by Sirius's voice.

You looked up to find everyone staring at you.

James had gone completely still, his mouth hanging open in an almost comical expression of shock. Regulus was blinking rapidly, as if trying to process what had just happened, while Sirius had frozen mid-doodle, his quill still in the air.

The only person who wasn’t shocked was Remus, who had broken into quiet, knowing laughter, clearly enjoying the chaos that was about to unfold.

“Wait– wait– hold on a second,” James finally sputtered, pointing between the two of you. “Did you just– did I just see–?”

"Use your words, Potter," Barty drawled out, eyeing the scene with interest.

“You two are– what?!” Sirius repeated, still frozen with his quill in the air. His eyes were practically bulging out of his head as he stared at you and Barty like you had just sprouted tentacles.

Barty, completely unfazed, leaned back in his chair with the most satisfied grin imaginable, casually crossing his arms behind his head. “Dating. Obviously.”

“Obviously?” James sounded like he might actually choke on the word. His glasses were sliding down his nose from the sheer force of his shock. “Obviously?!”

You shrugged, flipping through your notes like nothing at all had just happened. “Yeah. Why are you all acting like this is news?”

“Because it is!” Sirius threw his quill down dramatically, turning fully in his chair to gawk at you both. “Since when are you two... together?”

You exchanged a glance with Barty, who looked more amused than anything. “I dunno,” you said nonchalantly, “a few weeks, maybe?”

“A few weeks?!” James spluttered, his voice going up at least two octaves. He ran a hand through his already disastrous hair, looking utterly dumbfounded. “How– how did none of us know this?”

Barty gave an infuriatingly casual shrug, his smirk only growing wider. “Wasn’t exactly a secret. You lot were just too wrapped up in your own business to notice.”

“Too wrapped up?!” James looked at Regulus, as if his boyfriend might have some hidden answer to this impossible puzzle. Regulus, to his credit, had his head buried in his hands, looking both embarrassed and quietly amused. “Reggie, you didn’t notice?”

Regulus groaned, his face still hidden. “I noticed. I just didn’t want to talk about it.”

Sirius gaped at his brother. “You knew?”

“Well, I guessed, they're not exactly subtle,” Regulus muttered, still hiding behind his hands. “They bicker like they’re married.”

Remus, who had been laughing quietly this whole time, finally spoke up, his voice full of smug amusement. “He’s right, you know. The bickering should’ve been a dead giveaway.”

“Oh, come on,” James said, throwing his hands in the air. “Bickering is just– bickering! We bicker all the time! I bicker with Sirius – doesn’t mean I’m secretly dating him!”

“I should hope not,” Sirius muttered, still looking completely thrown. “You’re not my type.”

James blinked at him, momentarily sidetracked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Sirius said quickly, waving it off. “Focus, James! The issue here is this.” He gestured wildly between you and Barty. “This... thing they’ve apparently been doing under our noses for weeks.”

"I really think you lot are overreacting," you said, giving everyone a half-glare.

“I can't believe you kissed,” James said, as if just remembering it. “I mean... you kissed. Right there. In front of us. Our Y/N and Junior. Like it's no big deal.”

“It's not” you said, giving him a pointed look. “It’s called a relationship, Potter. People kiss in them.”

James shook his head, looking more confused than ever. “But you two have been acting the same as always! You don't even like each other! Actually, scratch that, you hate each other.”

Barty looked far too pleased with himself as he leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the table. “Oh, darling, you really don't know anything, do you?” he teased at the same time as you said, "And what about it?"

Sirius made a noise somewhere between a gag and a groan. “Ugh, stop. Just stop. This is making me nauseous.”

Remus was practically in tears now, wiping at his eyes as he continued to laugh. “This is... the best thing that's happened today.”

James looked positively ready to combust. "I am so confused." Regulus elbowed Sirius when he whispered what's new?

Barty leaned back again, his grin never faltering. “It's not our fault you were just too busy snogging Reggie here to notice.”

James immediately went red, and Regulus shot Barty a glare, though his lips were twitching with barely suppressed amusement. “Shut up.”

“Oh no, don’t let them turn this around on us,” Sirius cut in, pointing dramatically at you and Barty. “You two are the ones that have been lying this whole time!”

“We weren’t lying,” you said, your tone exasperated now. “You never asked. It’s not our fault you didn’t notice.”

Remus snorted. “To be fair, you do literally nothing to make it obvious. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were just flirting through arguments.”

“We are flirting through arguments,” Barty said matter-of-factly, earning a sharp look from you.

You jabbed a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “We are not.”

“We definitely are,” Barty fired back, looking far too pleased with himself. “You think of new ways to insult me every day, and I’ve never been more in love.”

There was an audible groan from Sirius. “Merlin’s beard, I am begging you to stop.”

James had dropped his head to the table by now, shaking it slowly like he couldn’t believe what was happening. “I can’t even process this. I need to lie down. Reg, tell me this isn’t happening.”

Regulus patted James awkwardly on the back. “It’s happening.”

Sirius threw his hands up in the air, officially reaching peak exasperation. “I feel betrayed. Absolutely betrayed. All these weeks – months, even – and no one thought to mention, ‘Oh hey, by the way, Barty and Y/N are snogging’?”

"Shagging," Barty corrected, to which you fully slapped his arm and Regulus winced.

“Disgusting.”

You sighed, resting your chin in your hand. “I don't know what to tell you, Siri. It never came up.”

“Never came up?!” James lifted his head from his hands, looking utterly scandalised. “You’ve been dating for weeks and it never came up?”

“We didn’t feel the need to announce it to the world,” you shot back, now fully irritated with how much of a fuss they were making over this. “We were kind of busy with, you know, being in a relationship.”

“Exactly,” Barty chimed in, his grin back in place. “We were busy... prioritising.”

Regulus, still looking a little embarrassed but clearly entertained, shook his head. “You two are unbelievable.”

Sirius, ever the dramatist, leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I give up. Absolutely give up. The world makes no sense anymore.”

“Was it ever making sense to you to begin with?” Remus asked dryly, glancing over at him with a raised brow.

“Not the point, Moony,” Sirius muttered, still looking entirely put out. 

Barty shrugged again, looking far too relaxed considering the chaos he’d just unleashed. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I will never get used to this,” Sirius shot back, glaring at Barty like he’d personally offended him.

James let out a long, dramatic sigh, slumping against the table. “I need a drink.”

“And I need new friends,” Sirius added, still shaking his head.

"What you need is to calm down," you muttered under your breath. Sirius's gasp told you that he heard you.

“I’m sorry for wanting to know when one of our friends is secretly dating a complete maniac.”

“Complete maniac?” Barty echoed, feigning hurt. “That’s harsh, Black. I prefer charming rascal.”

“I prefer punchable face." It would have been less convincing if you weren't smiling, leaning more and more into Barty's touch.

He grinned down at you and winked. “You can punch me anytime you wish, Treasure. Make sure it bruises, ‘kay?"

“Oh, enough!” James looked like he might actually lose his mind at this point. “You’ve been complaining about me and Reg, but you two are so much worse.”

Remus, ever the voice of reason, shook his head with a faint smile. “Just let them be. This is obviously how they work. I’m sure we’ll all get used to it eventually.”

James and Sirius exchanged a look that clearly said we absolutely will not, but neither of them said anything. Instead, James let out a long, tired sigh and stood up, ruffling his hair as if to shake off the mental exhaustion of the day. “Right, I need a break from this madness. I’m going to the kitchens. Anyone want to come?”

“Definitely,” Sirius muttered, standing up as well. “I need some food to process this... tragedy.”

Regulus chuckled softly, standing to follow them. “I’ll come with you. Though I’m still not sure why you’re so shocked.”

The boys kept bickering and mumbling between them as they hastily gathered their things, while you made a sound between a scoff and a laugh, leaning into Barty. 

“Thank you for this gift,” Remus teased before throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “They will never recover it seems.”

You shook your head, but couldn’t help but smile at how much Remus had enjoyed the chaos. “You’re a bit sadistic, Lupin.”

“Only when it’s deserved,” Remus replied with a wink.

Barty stretched his arms behind his head, looking far too relaxed given the absolute meltdown that had just taken place. “Well, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way... care to finish that kiss?”

You shot him a glare, though your lips twitched upward. “You’re lucky I don’t leave you after the drama you’ve caused me.”

Barty grinned. “You wouldn’t dare. You like me too much.”

“You know, the fact that you two are dating somehow makes your bickering worse,” Remus said, still within airshot.

“We aim to please.”.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. “Come on, let’s get out of here before Sirius comes back with his 'and another thing's”

Barty stood up, offering you a hand with a smirk. “As you wish, Treasure.”

You took his hand, but not without giving him a playful shove as you walked past him. “Keep talking, and I might change my mind.”

“I’d still win you over,” he replied, completely confident.

As you walked off together, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but think that maybe this chaos wasn’t such a bad thing after all. After all, you had Barty, and you were both having far too much fun watching everyone lose their minds over it.