#perhaps the silliest ones yet

[andro-dino]

guess what I wrote

4.6k words about my ideas for the dragon clan and kurayami family at large wooo 🎉🎉

this includes both canon information, hcs, and expansion on Ryoma, Victoria, and Canela’s characters. i am very insane but feel free to check it out if it sounds interesting 🫶

[pomegranate-pen]

Daym sis !! It took you this long to finally do your reqs ? Better late than never ig, ok but fr tho I’m glad you’ve decided to do your reqs for lackadaisy. Cause I was starting to worry !! So I’m glad your ok <33

Anyways, may I req a Rocky Rickaby x rich (closer to a billionaire) Fem! or gn! reader headcannons? Who is kinda polar opposite to Rocky? They’re kind, social, friendly yet calm, reserved, secretive and kinda mysterious because of their status? And it’s not like they got this money from some distant cousin, they had to work hard.

I can also see them spoiling Rocky in little, subtle ways. Like when his violin is broken from his rumrunning, the reader gifts him with a new one, and despite having no note to specify who exactly gave it to him, he can probably guess who it is. Can this also be like a friends to lovers kind of thing? That’d be cool.

Btw u dont have to do this if u dont wanna, or u can do this later, No pressure ! Make sure to take care of yourself, take breaks and have a wonderful day !!!

Rocky Rickaby x rich!gn!Reader headcanons

A/n: what?? Pomegranate pen actually keeping her promise and releasing something at a weekend?? That's impossible!!! Nsjwjwjwjw anyway, hi dear anon!! Tysm for requesting, I will admit, this was very fun to write,especially since I really missed writing for lackadaisy these few days. Thanks for requesting!! I hope you enjoy this!!

-----

Maintaining a bountiful fortune costs your time, soul and trust and in the world where greed overtakes all morals people have, you always need to be careful on whom you let see your weakness, whom you let see your heart.

So safe to say, you weren’t so keen on trusting a place so deeply rumoured as the lackadaisy speakeasy, let alone become a sponsor of it.

Or at least, that was the case before you met the infamous bootlegger of the place, Rocky Rickaby when he suddenly crashed face first with your car in a farmer's field late in the night. You truly thought he was dead at that moment, you were certain you just accidentally killed someone late into the night because the exhaustion of your soul-consuming meetings finally caught up to you. but then as you got out of the car, as you tried to reevaluate the situation and tried to find any sort of farm or shelter that you could ask help from, a sudden groan of pain gets your attention. The grey cat looks at you with the wooziest eyes and the silliest of grins.

One of his hands shakily goes up to point at you. “…has the nightingale sent her prettiest angel to take me away?” His voice was anything but coherent. “…why I must be quite the lucky…poet..”

As relief washes over you to the fact that he’s breathing, at the very least, you notice a nasty wound opening up on his head, a bit of blood ready to gush out of it. then you notice the box of what seems to be bottles of moonshine that spilled with him as he was running away.

 Before you could think of anything else- you hear grunts, gunshots and yells from across the fields, and in that moment of flight or fight, you grab onto the concerningly lanky cat and drive away.

Through all your yells to yourself about literally taking an injured stranger into your car and running away, you also realized why you felt such an urge. Your brain has seemed to connect the dots.whoever this guy was, it was obvious his job was the unsavoury kind, a bootlegger. An occupation you remember having a long time ago, a job you remember being your worst. Perhaps,you’ve felt sympathy for the guy and decided to save him before things got deadly.

Nevertheless, with an abundance of self-deprecation and worry for what will be the outcome of your quick and on-pressure decision, you took him to your house.

Maids and servants alike gasped in horror when they saw their boss caryying a man who looks like he took a deep swim in the mud, blood trickling down his blue suit and staining your own clothing. You quickly ask for their aid and bring him to the fireplace, let the maids patch him up while you get a proper change of clothes and soothing tea as well.

 The servants urge you to go to bed, to be rest assured that when the mysterious lanky cat wakes up they’ll be there to explain everything to him. Yet, you could not let anyone face the burdens of your silly and perhaps bad decision (though some of your employees commented that you could be deemed heroic in a certain lens. “some might even say a tad romantic!” a certain person with a known interest for romance novels added. You dismissed it all.)

You decided to stay the night sitting by the arm-chair next to the couch he laid on, awaiting his clarity while taking a small nap yourself. With a grunt and roll of their eyes,some from amusement and others from worry, they brought a blanket and a pillow and left you be. Next to the lanky, drifted asleep and bad-shape cat that was covered in bandages.

You were expecting at least a decent night’s sleep, since there’d be no way he’d be able to wake up quickly after the day he’s been through.his body would definitely take its time in recovery. What you hadn’t expected, was hearing rustling and shifts in the night, ones you dismissed as servants just shifted around to finish up the last of their tasks, but then hearing creaks, stumbles and the sound of something clunking and shattering on the ground before finally, a creak of a window opening. That is when your eyes immediately opened, and you were met with the cat who was hit with your car tangled up in his own bandages trying to make an escape. You both froze for a moment. Him, being midway out with his escape, his hand still latched on the window, and you, still in your armchair with a frazzled expression.

 “uh…sorry about that….” His eyes trail to the ground.”statue?...” he gives a nervous grin while pointing at the shattered artifact.he then looks up and gives a nervous chuckle. “and the torn drapes.” He then looks around again and winces. “annnnd the shattered vase.”

 After that failed attempt to escape seemed futile, you brought him back in and briefly explained the situation. Rocky told you his side of the story- though, with a few skipped parts and avoiding to get into details about what specifically failed so spectacularly in his task to retrieve some booze.

You talk for a little while, giving some small brief summaries about who you are and what you do, and gleefully answering some silly questions Rocky had about your status. You found yourself enjoying your talk with Rocky, talking to someone who's so incredibly lively. You've been around soulless businessmen for so long that you almost forgot what it’s like to actually speak to a person, to forget about status and money, to not read between the lines of every sentence someone utters. You finally felt like yourself for a moment, like something about Rocky’s eccentricities and unhinged nature has rejuvenated your soul.

 Yet, as Rocky looks back at the clock, he quickly gets up to leave, needing to go back to his work before anyone assumes he’s dead. You tried to convince him to stay a while longer, to sleep for the night so he can heal up. yet he didn’t falter. He quickly put on his coat and hat, looking at you with a charming smile. He tilts his hat, giving a small bow before graciously saying goodbye.

What he hadn’t noticed, was that your eyes trailed his clothing for a moment and noticed something intriguing. Something that could hint at where he truly works at. A small pin, in the shape of a club.

  After that, a few weeks have passed by before you decide to finally visit. Your main reason was to just make sure he’s  okay and that his injury has finally healed up. yet a part of you knew that you were also deeply curious about him, and had felt the urge to know more about his life. Perhaps, he’ll rise the ranks like you did. Or maybe just like old co-workers of yours at the bootlegging game, he’ll get himself into deep trouble.

Nonetheless, you visited the Lackadaisy speakeasy. The place you heard a cacophony of rumours and chats about, yet never visited it yourself. The empty mine with dark lights engulfed in the room left a lot to be desired. something was missing, something crucial that was holding the whole place up together. The very few guests that were there however, were noneother than the wife of Atlas May and…

  “…Wick Sable?!”

Wick chokes on his drink, tail frizzing up in distress as his ears perk up and take a note of the familiarity of that voice. He coughs out the drink he was meaning to enjoy (even if it’s taste wasn’t really in the highest of tiers in terms of ‘enjoyable’), looking at you with a stressed smile. “ah…L/n..what an unexpected surprise.”

Depending on your relationship with Wick, this interaction could go in three ways. If you're good friends, he’d have to suffer a bit with both your teasing and Mitzi's about not telling you about his frequent trips here. If you're mere acquaintances, then though he’d have to suffer only  Mitzi's teasing about him being so secretive about his visits, he’d still be forced to explain his relationship with the place to you over a few drinks. If you’re known to be rivals or enemies, well, not only would he be utterly displeased by the idea of you finding his go-to bar, but what would irk him more would be how Mitzi will try to make you a regular patron around here. often shutting up any sort of jab or retort Wick has to your musings and letting you have control over the conversation.

 As you start getting accustomed to the ambiance of the mine and the piercing galre of the bartender, the man of the hour-well, your hour, at least, comes in. this time with his suit only a tiny bit ruined by dirt and tears, but still not as bad as his awful state when you first found him.

His eyes beam when he sees you, and he immediately starts flirting with lines of poetry and song while he shoves the cart of illicit beverages he found into a small orange cat;s hands and takes the abandoned violin that was on the bar counter to strum up a tune.

Everyone expected him to be flat out rejected, to be ignored and maybe even weird out the new patron. But low and behold, the new patron merely giggled and smiled, matching his playful energy and cheeky jokes.

Safe to say, everyone’s jaw was dropped, while Rocky himself was beaming with joy and pride.

After that, you’ve become a regular at the speakeasy.often visiting the place to mainly speak with Rocky and develop a nice friendship with him. 

Your conversations with him were always insightful, since he was the very clear opposite of you. While you were known in society for your calm demeanour in different matters (often preferring to panic in the inside rather than out.), Rocky was known to be loud and spontaneous. No one knew how on earth you two got along so well, but you somehow did. He was able to bring charm and joy to a conversation, something that you desperately missed from your old life. While you were able to become the reasonable one in the relationship, often convincing Rocky to avoid causing some disastrous chaos that would’ve left the speakeasy in shambles.

Rocky’s clumsiness and acts of chaos has left him with more injuries and broken things than he can count. It’s something that you took note of immediately, and whenever you’d see his clothes, your heart would often ache for him. But you knew Rocky. You knew he wouldn’t accept something you bought with your own money, that though he’d act grateful, he’d somehow make some gleeful excuse to try to avoid taking it. And so, you’ve decided with the help of a few delivery boys to send these gifts to him anonymously instead. 

Now, though in everyone else’s eyes, Rocky doesn’t look changed at all, the keen observer would notice his new and clean clothes, and his violin of fine-quality and craftsmanship.

You’d often rant about your job with Rocky. Especially when you had had enough drinks in your system to forget the poised and strong demeanour you must uphold. Ever since you reached the top of the board, you’ve become a fish out of water. You cannot relate nor have any sort of fun with the people you’re often forced to speak with. Especially since the people in question are known to be incredibly judgemental and gossip-obsessed.Rocky would always hear your whines and try to cheer you up with a song, or maybe a funny story he can tell about another dangerous and concerning adventure he had for the day. Since he noticed how you always smile when he rambles on and on, and though you often give him a concerned glance, you never stop listening to him with a smile.

Another way you try to help Rocky is by helping the speakeasy itself, since you know how much it means to him. You sponsor the place and try to help Mitzi when she’s in any sort of financial difficulty, and you try to strum up some business by making your clients and fellow businessmen have meetings in the speakeasy.

This has created a sort of conundrum for the guests you bring. Because unknown to their own knowledge, they're often the same people you rant about all the time to Rocky. And so, Rocky always has the urge to somehow scare and intimidate them with his insanity. He treats them just as he treats Wick, sometimes even worse. He jabs, he nudges and he pretty much freaks them out when you’re too distracted talking about the business at hand to even notice his actions. And the worst part is, whenever you do look up, Rocky immediately stops his actions and gives you a charmed smile and innocent wink. As if he’s been as innocent as an angel the entire time. 

After a while, it didn’t take long for your maids to realize that Rocky wasn’t just some simple friend to you, but in fact, someone you’re into. And they made this theory of theirs become known to you when they suddenly start asking for details about your day at the speakeasy, specifically your hangouts with Rocky. You try to deny it at first, but you couldn’t help but admit that something about Rocky was different from others. To you, your friendship with Rocky was an entirely new and incredible experience, an experience that you cherish deeply, and…you wouldn’t mind for it to become something more.

So,you start initiating the flirtations, ones that Rocky immediately answers back with equal amounts of enthusiasm. Slowly but surely, your hangouts have become dates, and your rants have become more personal.

soon enough, and in the other’s point of view, shockingly so, you two have become a couple. An incredibly cheesy one at that.

 For a moment, everyone thought perhaps this was a sugar baby type of situation. That was until they all wondered what on earth could their lackluster bootlegger and not-half-bad violinist Rocky Rickaby offer in the sugar baby aspect of it all? they all came out with an utterly empty answer. However, though the relationship was far from such a thing, it doesn’t mean you don’t like showering Rocky with gifts all the time. Especially since you firmly believe he deserves at least some sort of nice luxury in his life. You’d often try to do the same old trick of anonymously gifting them, but he has caught you once in the act, and with a bountiful amount of kisses has convinced you to drop the whole act.

Rocky may at first be in somewhat of a denial for such attention. Though he will gawk, be giddy and awe-struck about the amount of gifts he is receiving, a part of him would also somehow feel guilty for it. like he doesn’t deserve such nice things in life. it’s a guilt that you quickly scold him for, and as punishment by even more gifts for him than before.

Though you are of high-status, both you and Rocky still prefer dates in the dark streets of Mississippi rather than any luxurious restaurant. You once tried to go to one  of course, but the night has ended with the kitchen going on fire and Rocky somehow freeing all the lobsters from their tanks. Nevertheless, it was still a great night, one where you couldn’t help but laugh in pure freedom because you felt all the societal pressure in your shoulders wash away. It didn't matter who the guests were in that restaurant, it was of no importance what they whispered about you or your partner whom you wouldn’t trade for the world. All that mattered was you and Rocky, dancing under the stars as rain started to pour.

Teasing Wick has become a mutual activity for you two. An activity Mitzi even joins in from time to time. Lord knows how many jabs Wick has to put up with whenever you both are at the speakeasy at the same time (which unfortunately for him, is quite the common occurrence.) it’s gotten to the point where whenever he sees you two together he gives out an exhausted sigh and asks Viktor to give him a stronger drink.

There are times where Rocky wonders if he’s worth it. times where the stink eyes and glances of high society get in his head a bit and he wonders if he’s truly worth all the reputational risk you’re putting yourself through. Those are the times where you must quickly go against such negative thoughts, to grab his hands and tell him firmly that he’s worth more than anything to you. though it never truly diminishes his insecurity in the matter, it does help lower it down.

You’re absolutely horrified and livid when you realize he’s living in his car. It’s something your heart breaks at and you quickly urge him to just come live with you instead. You have plenty of room to spare and would absolutely adore having him around. It’s an offer you wouldn’t let him say no to, no matter how hard he tried. You even offer to buy a house for him, if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of living with you. He quickly denies having such a thought, and in the end, he moves into your mansion.

Some maids are weirded out by him while others are a bit fearful. But they quickly learn to accommodate him, especially since he’s always bringing you into a better and happier mood. Hell, you even renovated one of the rooms to be his own workshop of sorts where he can write his poems. He never really uses it, preferring to work on his ideas with you beside him instead, but he does put some sizable amount of things in there. things he has definitely brought from his cluttered car.

Even though everyone had their fair share of surprised reactions when they finally found out you were dating, it was Aunt Nina who was the most shocked of all. she never believed Rocky could find a normal partner..let alone one that’s known for their wealth and successful businesses such as yourself. She even once wondered if Rocky has used some sort of devil witchcraft to steal your heart.

There are often times where both of you tend to falter, tend to become incredibly silent after a conversation that went wrong. You both have so many secrets you can’t share, so many thoughts and feelings that are hard to describe, let alone explain where they came from.Rocky admires you, he truly does. Because he knows you’ve worked hard for your status in the world, and that it’s normal for wealthy people to have secrets of their own. You are the same, you respect him, and know that his life wasn’t the most simple nor easiest. Yet both of you cannot help but sometimes get frustrated by the other for keeping important things a secret. You more than him, you will admit. You can’t help it. You don't want him to be in danger. But knowing how strange and unhinged his luck is, you’re certain he’s bound to get into deep trouble if he doesn’t find someone to help him. And that’s when you ask him, why can’t that someone be you? Why can’t he rely on you when he needs it? You’re not a simple person, you have more than enough resources and money to protect both you and him from any problems.

and that is when he asks why can’t you be more open to him,yet ask him for such an act? He knows very little about your family life, and there are times you skip a few stories and relationships you had with certain people you rant about. He has noticed, he just never spoke about it.and then, a chilling silence takes over the room. And you both need time to collect your thoughts before you talk.

In the end, you both reach out for each other at the same time and talk things out, and though you both know talking about each other’s past will take a lot of time and trust, you’re willing to wait for it, and will never forget that you’re by each other’s side for when you’re in need of help.

Though you both are an unexpected match for sure, that doesn’t falter the endless love and admiration you have for each other.

[simplyreveries]

may I request the octotrio buying nuis of each other and making them go on dates? :D

nuis of eachother; octatrio

azul ashengrotto

he is so confused when he sees you suddenly show him little tiny plushies that are the replicas of you two… this must be yet another strange land thing. he curiously takes one from your hands and seems so genuinely surprised. he then gives an amused smile and asks you what gave you the idea to get the two of you something like this? he gives you an inquisitive look “...angelfish, did you make these?” azul does think it is pretty cute.

when he's doing business and work at the mostro lounge and azul finds you putting yours and his nui’s together like they're out on a date at the mostro lounge. he’d look at them and shake his head with an entertained look as you exclaim " they're on a date!”. you pretty much deemed your plush his and his yours, he keeps it in his room sometimes and leaves it neatly on his bed.

though sometimes you intentionally leave the two of your little nui’s in his office somewhere together chilling on his desk or tucked on one of the couches… and he doesn't notice as he's trying to get some poor savanaclaw student to sign a contract with him and sees the student looking at him strangely and wonders why… aksjdhjd

jade leech

jade seems a little surprised at first then gives a low chuckle; he finds the little plushies interesting. he’ll pick them up and look at them himself and wonder how you managed to get your hands on something like these, did you perhaps make them? have them customed made? he seems to be pretty fascinated at the mini replicas.

he’ll have a hand on his chin as he looks curiously at the little set up you put the two of them in, he’ll have this grin on his face as you tell him they're recreating one of your own dates. he'll tease saying if he should make them miniature food to match as well.

he will keep the little nui version of yourself that you gave him, probably on his desk somewhere nicely. jade thinks it's quite cute and can't help but let out some airy laugh as he settles for the night and sees it there.

floyd leech

floyd immediately loves them… he is eager to snatch them from your hands when you show him them and shows a grin exclaiming, he loves the new “little shrimpy”. he's also the one to usually prop them together like they are on a date, he thinks it's the silliest thing. “heheh look, now it's just like the two of us~!”. he sometimes just picks them up and playfully smushes their faces together making stupid kissing sounds.

uses them like a child using toys, he'll randomly pick them up and tell you he's reenacting your first date and do some over the top performance for you, greatly exaggerating how it went. he also tries to mimic your voice a lot.

he also likes the to keep yours on his bed, he sleeps holding it sometimes. though, when he wakes up in the morning its usually fallen onto the floor because i just know he moves around a lot (he has stepped on it at least once). floyd also likes that you have his too on your bed ad well, he says his the plushie will look after you when you're sad without him...!

[lightlycareless]

because why not. I crave a highschool au with naoya. warnings: highschool au. suguru and satoru being annoying af.

Thinking about that one scene where Gojo and Geto are talking about the former’s phone wallpaper, how he just changed it to model Inoue Waka, and in the English dub, calls her hot.

Let’s say that for a moment you manage to overhear a similar conversation while in jujutsu high. The two of them essentially comparing wallpapers of the women they consider “hottest” and what not.

It causes you to grow both insecure, because yes, even when they were insufferable jerks, they weren’t lying when saying that the women they had on their phones are what many consider hot—words you wouldn’t usually describe yourself with, less believe anyone else thought of you.

And curious, because your seemingly one-sided crush on Naoya leads you to wonder if he has the same… habit of putting pictures of women he liked, or at least found attractive, on his home screen, and what it meant for your feelings if that were the case.

So, you take on the mission of getting a glance at Naoya’s phone, which surprisingly ended up being the hardest task you had yet to complete that semester—and all because he was super defensive of his items, especially his cellphone!

Even for the silliest, dumbest type of excuses, like “I need to make a call and I have no service, can I borrow your phone?” does not make him budge.  He just says no to whatever you come up with, and it makes your intrigue grow bigger and bigger the more he denies you!

What is he hiding? Contrary to Satoru and Suguru, is he ashamed of having pictures like that on his phone?

Or maybe…

Does he have those kinds of pictures instead??

Oh, this is even worse than you imagined! Because not only is Naoya wholeheartedly interested in other women, completely different from you—he’s also a big pervert!!

If so, how disappointing… but at the same time, you had no proof to call this as the truth so… you’d continue trying to figure out who he had on his home screen.

And then, the day you found out who held the special place of his phone’s wallpaper finally arrived.

It happened so uneventfully too, probably through the dumbest reasons yet, but you’re not to complain if it gave you the results you sought after.

The way you obtained a glimpse of Naoya’s wallpaper ultimately was because Gojo stole his phone just for that. Yeah. It was that easy. Perhaps you should’ve asked him for help from the very beginning, although the thought of telling him why you needed Naoya’s phone quickly reminded you that you had done right in avoiding him.

 “Changed your home screen again?” Geto asks, looking over to Gojo’s phone, who was quick to show off his screen with a cheeky grin, affirming his observation.

“Newest catalogue—hot, right?”

“If you say so” Naoya says under his breath, seemingly annoyed by their lack of taste or perhaps the crude topic when there were a thousand things more interesting that women (as if he hadn’t done that before).

He intended his comment to be kept solely to himself, but to the troublemakers Suguru and Satoru, this was anything but loud and clear.

“What, don’t think she’s up to your standards?” Satoru would instigate, making the young heir not precisely retract his words, but rather act like he was hearing things.

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, I heard what you say—think you’re above Inoue-chan?”

Naoya cringes at the familiarity in which Satoru refers to a model, of all people…

“I don’t even know her” Naoya rolls his eyes, feigning indifference and hoping to move past this conversation, but it’s well known that once Satoru sets his eyes on a victim, it’s very difficult, if not impossible, to escape his grasps. Naoya marked his fate the moment he joined their conversation.

“Ah, now that’s a lie if I ever heard one” Satoru counters. “So what, don’t have anyone on your phone? Too good for that, hm?”

“What does it matter to you?” he snaps, and this just seems to fuel Satoru even further.

“Then you leave me no choice.”

“What are you—”

With unmatched speed, as expected of the Gojo heir, Satoru grabs Naoya’s arms as his most trusted accomplice understands what’s expected of him and reaches for his pocket, taking out his cell phone.

The look in Naoya’s eyes is one you’d never forget, one that almost made you jump between the two and demand them to leave him alone—but your curiosity was getting the best of you, so you allowed them to continue with their brutish ways. Besides, you intended to console him after getting your answers, just as you always did whenever he felt down, so maybe it wasn’t that… bad…?

“Hey—HEY!” Naoya yelps, tugging and throwing against Satoru’s hold, exhorting his very best to get his phone back—but to no avail, for he could never, no matter the circumstance, beat the strongest sorcerers. That much he should know now. “Give it back!”

“Damn—what the hell do you have in that phone? Porn or something?” Satoru snickers at his reaction, looking back to Suguru. “Just open it already, I want to know who the talented Naoya has as wallpaper.”

You swallow as the anticipation slowly began to kill you.

The moment you were waiting for, the one that made you put in so much effort but always fell short no matter what you did, finally arrived.

It was only a question of lifting the screen and looking at it for your greatest desire (that week, at least) to be granted.

Having curiosity of his own, especially after Naoya’s defensive behavior, Geto hastily grasps the screen by the edges and begins to flip it open.

You swear Suguru was teasing you given the way he slowly opened the phone (he didn’t—you just felt it that way) making your heart jump to your throat, ears ringing while anxiously waiting for Naoya’s secret to finally unveil itself!

Only for your heart to sink down to your stomach when Suguru’s face twists into one of confusion, perhaps even… disgust?

You tried your hardest to not jump and ask what he saw, appear as if you weren’t closely listening to their conversation and give away your interest in Naoya, but his reaction and silence just made it impossible, and without much resistance, you quickly succumb to your curiosity.

“What is—” is all that you manage to muster before Satoru’s shriek quiets you immediately.

“Huh?!” Gojo exclaims “You have her?!”

Who is it?

Who does Naoya have on his phone screen??

Is it someone you know?? Does he like her? No—Does he like that?!?!

IS SHE NAKED as you initially thought??!?!

Aside from the last question, it was safe to say that Naoya did like her, because it was none other than—

“Asuka, from Evangelion?” Suguru asks skeptically, looking back to Naoya, almost as if he didn’t believe his eyes.

“What, got a problem with that??” Naoya frowns, beyond irritated and embarrassed at this point. Satoru releases him.

“None—only that I didn’t think of you as an otaku!” Satoru snorted. “Who would’ve thought that the great heir of the Zen’in liked anime?! How embarrassing!”

“You’re not any better” Suguru murmurs.

“Give me that!” Naoya hisses, abruptly taking the phone out of Suguru’s hands—the latter giving up the item willingly. “And of course you’d laugh, your taste in everything is shit! You wouldn’t know what was good even if it hit you!”

“That’s not true” Satoru smirks “I like anime too—Digimon, you know?”

“Yeah, no one cares.” Naoya frowns, abruptly standing up from his desk and heading towards the exit, presumably to cool off, take out his frustrations in some way, or save himself from further humiliation.

And that was it—you managed to discover who he had on his phone.

As much as you felt bad that Naoya was essentially forced to disclose that fact, you were kind of elated that you got the answer you searched for, and subsequently, knew what it meant for your feelings towards him.

In other words, you had no… physical competition, per say. He could just like that character because she’s funny, cool, or something else, not because he had actual feelings for her!

You can’t help but smile at this thought, for it gave you the clearance you needed to keep harboring feelings for him—although… would he like you better if you knew who she was? Was she from his favorite anime? If so, you had lots of work to do.

For now, you can relax knowing he didn’t like someone from school. At least until he likes you back, of course.

Oh, but if you only knew that he didn’t have Asuka in the beginning.

No, he had someone else entirely, only changing his home screen once he caught up to your intentions, not wanting to show you either—glad he had done so right before Satoru and Suguru got the idea of joining your little crusade (A thing you’d had to clear up if ever given the chance to.)

Maybe you’ll figure out who it was in time. Maybe not. Only fate, and his efforts, can decide that.

But until then, he’ll keep the fact that he had you, as his wallpaper, a secret.

Naoya is a nerd. prove me wrong.

[liyawritesss]

ᖴᒪOᗯEᖇᔕ Iᑎ ᗷᒪOOᗰ - ᐯᗩᒪEᑎTIᑎEᔕ ᗪᖇᗩᗷᗷᒪEᔕ

Ｄａｙ ３ － Ｆｌｏｗｅｒｓ

－ Dandelions - 1610!Miles Morales - Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse

－ In which Miles makes a wish on a dandelion flower he finds peeking out from the schools garden.

－ Check out more prompts and other activities on the Flowers In Bloom Event Masterlist!

Miles remembers the white puffy flowers he’d often see peeking out from the sidewalks in his neighborhood. He remembers the silly myth his parents told him at that tender age, where mystic and wonder was still the core of his innocence. Blow onto a dandelion and make a wish, and it’ll come true so long as you have faith in it.

He’d made many dandelion wishes in his childhood, but this one had to have been the silliest amongst them. He didn’t know which was more embarrassing; the fact that he was making a wish on a dandelion that seemed to survive the winter cold and be the first sign of spring to grace Visions Academy, or the fact that what he had wished for was among the most childish of things he’d ever done.

Yet, here he was, bent down at the knees in front of the school garden, holding the intact dandelion in his hand, twisting it around and examining it, the imagery of his crush sneaking into his mind as he did so. 

It was childish, silly, downright embarrassing what he had wished for, and yet, he still did it. The evidence being the now empty dandelion head and the pieces of white wisp flowing into the cool spring breeze. Perhaps there was an inkling of childish hope in him that wondered if such a wish would come true - if his wish for his crush to notice him would actually come to fruition if he’d manifested the little bit of childhood magic he held onto for times like these, where hope was diminishing and he had no other avenues to turn to.

He didn’t believe it would work. He discarded the empty stem and made his way back to his dorm room afterwards, not thinking much of the subject. His evening was spent doing homework and arguing with Ganke on how to beat the Tetris level he was stuck on. Before the night was over, Miles had forgotten about the dandelion and the wish he made.

Then, the next day, as he was exiting his third period, he was reminded of it when he saw you approach him. It crept up on him like a spider on a wall, the realization coming after a conversation was sparked between the two of you.

“You’re Miles, right? From World History?” You said, and the boy has to remind himself what speaking is and how to do so, his voice coming out high-pitched from his anxiety.

“Y-yeah, yep! That’s me!”

“I knew you looked familiar!” You said with a smile, and Miles feels like he should be dreaming, but the weakness in his knees lets him know he is well awake and struggling against everything in the universe to not make a fool of himself. 

“I know you’re a super science wiz,” you begin, “I’m ashamed to say I’m not as good as most of the kids here are when it comes to STEM.” What? You have a flaw? Impossible, he thinks, as he watches you shift your weight, a hint of nervousness in your voice. “Maybe I can tutor you in history sometime, if you’re willing to give me some pointers for my science class?”

There is nothing in the world that would get Miles to trust his voice after such an encounter; so he nods with a confirming hum to your proposal, and that seems to satisfy you enough, as a triumphant smile graces your lips.

“Great!” You chime, “See you around, Miles!”

The second you turn your back to leave, Miles Morales becomes a puddle of overwhelming emotions, heart thumping like a hammer against a wall, his school uniform suddenly becoming too hot to bear. He just talked to his crush, and didn’t make a complete fool of himself. Maybe that wish was worth something after all.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[bunji-enthusiast]

ZARATRAS BF HEADCANONS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

OKAY HERES YOUR FOOD DAYUM /pos (apologies for the shortness, I didn't have a whole lot to go off of trying to understand his character)

He is highly work-oriented and takes on his duties as Holy Knight Grandmaster very seriously, however, Zaratras will always make the effort to ensure he spends his time with you as well. Sometimes it can be exhausting, but well worth it in the end. He cherishes you deeply, and he hopes you know that.

Eventually, he ends up introducing you to his son, Gilthunder. He was unsure if you two were going to get along well, but you took it in great stride and made sure that the pink-haired boy was comfortable with being around you. Gilthunder actually ended up speaking of you very highly when you weren't around, and admitted it only to Zaratras. He was happy to know his son had taken a liking to you, he wouldn't know what to do if you two had ended up disliking each other upon first meet.

Zaratras is a huge sucker for romantic moments, and tries to plan them accordingly as a way to surprise you. Perhaps even as way brighten up your day if you've had a bad one, he only means the good in his intentions.

He likes to take you out on dinner dates, perhaps even lunch dates. Zaratras likes to keep his ideas simple for things such as these, its simple yet an effective way to spend time together. He likes asking you how your day went, and even talks about his own day if prompted. You can see the way he looks at you, full of love and admiration.

This man was the softest and silliest idiot you've ever met, and yet somehow, he's charmed you - and you just couldn't stop yourself from falling in love with Zaratras. Grandmaster he may be, but he was also just so very himself aside from his title. The qualities you've come to learn and see in action, that were apart of him, were so very endearing to you.

He isn't necessarily a materialistic person, and more so shows a way of his affection differently in this matter. Zaratras will insist on buying you your favorite sweets or desserts, he may even try one himself if you seemed to like it so much. There are many ways he loves to spend time with you, but this certainly had to be one of his favorites. Even if he behaved any silly way on these outings, he did that to see you with that cute expression of laughter and the smile on your face.

Gilthunder actually ended up calling you mom/papa on accident before, which had shocked both you and Zaratras. But he was far too cute, and the shock subsided into laughter and smiles because of Gilthunder's accidental saying. The boy blushed and denied the absolute matter of the fact that he said it, trying to defute the fact he did.

[homestuckreplay]

Harlequin Anger vs Jester Ennui - Color as John Egbert’s Emotions

Week 2 Retrospective

John Egbert is the silliest little guy, but we’re starting to see hints of what he’s feeling beneath the surface. Looking at the themes of the comic so far, my current theory is that the colorful elements in the comic are the things that make John feel strong emotions - both good and bad - while the monochrome elements represent what makes John feel bored and frustrated.

Analysis below the cut - about 2,200 words.

‘A familiar note is produced. It's the one Desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune.’ (p.82)

Desolation has two, related meanings - one is loneliness, grief, and lack of companionship, while the other is ruin, emptiness and destruction. The first meaning is John’s current mental state, while the second is the suburb he lives in. The majority of what’s surrounding John is entirely monochrome, and so is John himself. We also learn from the narration on p.82 that ‘something feels missing from [John’s] life’ and that he has a sense ‘not of mirth, but of lack’. I think he spends a lot of time going through the motions - poking at things in his room without settling to anything, wandering up and down the stairs when his dad is occupied - but his life is the same day in and day out, and he struggles to inject any excitement into his life, or even any anger at the situation he’s trapped in. 

I think it’s extremely notable that almost everything relating to John’s family is monochrome. In addition to the house as a whole, the portraits of his dad and nanna are monochrome, as are the gifts and cakes from his dad, the car outside, and most importantly the piano. I don’t think John hates his father, but I think he struggles to connect with him or feel close to him. Ignoring page 72’s peanut ambiguity, the worst we hear about Dad is that he will ‘monopolize hours of [John’s] time’ (p.30) and ‘can be a real cornball’ (p.49), which is a big contrast to him calling Betty Crocker his ‘arch nemesis’ (p.48). 

Therefore, John’s dad is an inconvenience, not a threat. John might know intellectually that his dad loves him - ‘the old man really came through this time’ (p.19), as well as the kind fatherly notes left on John’s birthday presents (p.12, p.55) - but I think he can’t make the leap to actually caring about his dad in return or enjoying his company.

John is a gifted piano player, and gives us a ‘haunting piano refrain’ (p.77). Him being a musician ties back into the act title - ‘the note desolation plays’ uses the language of music, something so often filled with emotion, to describe a lack of it. Given that, of course the piano is monochrome. Perhaps John even sees the piano as the source of his problems, or at least representative of them. 

I noted at the time that it was strange John hadn’t listed piano among his interests when it’s clearly something he’s spent a lot of time on, and now I think it’s something that was taught to him as a kid by either his dad or nanna. He’s good at it, but he’s so disconnected from family life that it no longer brings him any joy, it’s just a hangover from his childhood. ‘Haunting’ makes me think it was his nanna who taught him - now every time John plays, he’s haunted by her memory (or even her literal ghost). Possibly her death is what made John disconnect from the hobby, especially with ‘desolation’ relating to grief.

On page 4, we get our first glimpse of the outside. The blue sky shot through with the brown tree is the largest splash of color in John’s room. The promise of the outside world is extremely colorful, and we know John wants to go there - the window reflected in John’s glasses on page 28 as he grins excitedly is a clear visual indication of that. Yet when we finally see it, the outside isn’t all color - the grass, sky, trees and flowers all are, but the man made aspects such as the driveway, tire swing, and other houses in the neighborhood are gray and dull.

Page 82 gives us the dramatic moment of John removing his clever disguise and gazing up at the sky. It’s the first time we see the sun and the uninterrupted expanse, and it’s framed like it’s significant for John, too. I don’t think it’s literally his first time stepping outside (you can’t tell me his dad didn’t push him on that tire swing as a kid) but I think it’s the moment he realizes that leaving his literal house doesn’t mean he’s not stuck - the neighborhood is just more of the same, and whatever restrictions John’s working within mean he can’t go any further than this. A front yard is legally part of a house, and the reality of the outside doesn’t excite him as much as the idea of it.

And then there’s the clowns. The one aspect of his dad that really gets John going; the harlequin portraits in the hallway and living room that Dad brought back from clown con are bright, obnoxious, and impossible to ignore. Interestingly, the ones in the study are black and white - perhaps John is okay with the clown pictures in the study, because that’s explicitly his dad’s space, but he doesn’t like the ones in the main area, because they make him feel like the house is fully his dad’s, not a shared space they could decorate together. 

This is pure speculation, but I don’t think John has ever moved house. I get the impression that he grew up in this house, which is his dad’s now and was perhaps originally his nanna’s, and has never known a world outside of this specific neighborhood. Because John’s been there since he was born, it’s never crossed his dad’s mind that John might want to, say, put his Little Monsters poster in the living room - hence why that gift was left in John’s bedroom, while the harlequin doll is allowed to be downstairs. 

Speaking of John’s room, it’s definitely not an oasis of color within the house. In our first shot of the room, we see six splashes of color, including the outside and John’s shirt - comparable to the living room (six including John’s shirt and hat) and study (five including the outside and John’s hat). A full three of the colorful elements in John’s room are related to Sburb, which in both the visuals and text is the thing John’s by far the most excited about right now, but I’ll circle back around to this. 

John’s magic chest, magician’s hat, blood capsules, and copies of Colonel Sassacre’s and Wise Guy are all colorful too, but other prank elements - fake arms, beaglepuss, handcuffs, sword, smoke pellets) are all monochrome. This one’s tough, but my best guess is that John feels conflicted about his interest in pranks because it’s so similar to his dad’s interest, and perhaps even that the monochrome items are things John’s dad bought for him for past birthdays and holidays, while the colorful ones are things John got for himself. 

John’s shirt is also worth mentioning here. John’s ambivalence with the house extends to himself, and kids often don’t have a lot of control over their appearance. He probably doesn’t choose his own clothes or glasses or haircut, and he definitely can’t go out and get a tattoo of Slimer or anything like that, so it’s very telling that wearing a shirt with a favorite movie on it is the one way John can actually connect to himself. 

That said, all the movie posters in his room are monochrome, which I’ll again circle back to. One exception is the close up of the Problem Sleuth poster (p.11), which is mostly monochrome, but has four kernels of colorful candy corn. I love this detail so much. It’s a fun reference to Hussie’s previous work and suggests that the candy corn gags in Problem Sleuth are John’s favorite part, which feels right for him. I wonder if John will use candy corn for a prank at some point in reference to this game he likes. I also noticed that the menu bar at the top of the web page also contains four kernels of candy corn - is this just because Problem Sleuth is Hussie’s most notable work, or could it be a clue for Homestuck too?

The most colorful and complex elements of the comic so far are the screens. We see John’s computer, which as a physical object is monochrome but which lights up to a brightly colored world of chums, flashing programs, desktop icons and stunning feats of graphic design, including things John loves (Slimer) and things that make him boil with rage (coding). We also get to see a very green tinted TV commercial in the living room, and a full color clip of Con Air linked from page 20. 

All this makes me wonder if John’s list of interests is chronological. First on his list (p.4) is ‘really terrible movies’, and many of his favorite titles are from the 1980s and 90s, meaning he probably grew up with them. I think he still loves watching and discussing them, but - given that movies are a fairly passive medium - just the reminder of them on his wall isn’t enough to take him out of his own head anymore. He then got into programming, the paranormal, magic, and video games in sequence, meaning that the final two are his most active interests right now, and the ones to which the most time and color are devoted. In this way, the casual end to the list ‘You also like to play GAMES sometimes’ reads like intentionally downplaying something that’s actually really important, the sarcasm of ‘sometimes’ revealed later when we learn that John has ‘put countless manhours into this assortment of quality titles’ (p.31).

Unlike the movie posters, most of the games on John’s CD rack are in color, and unlike movies, games can offer an interactive, immersive experience. Games are enticing to John right now because they’re the best escape from a monotonous, suburban life that John has access to. He’s played his current collection time and time again (to the point that Bard Quest and Problem Sleuth have lost their color), and that’s why he’s so desperate for Sburb to arrive, and why the colorful reminders of Sburb are all over his room.

I think there’s a very real question of whether Sburb will live up to John’s expectations. At only one letter away from Suburb, it’s a clear reminder that video games don’t actually take John away from the life he’s stuck in, they’re a cosmetic alteration at best - and if the themes of the game are too close to John’s real life problems, he won’t find that escapism. So while I’d love to see a version of this comic where John finally starts playing Sburb and the whole screen immediately explodes into color, I’m not sure it’ll be that easy.

Finally, there’s the meta elements of the story. The captchalogue card overlay and strife specibus are pink and green respectively, and other elements that pop up (indication of whether or not we’ve got John’s name right, the cake turning blue when selected, the blinking green telling us we can put the poster on the wall, etc) are colorful too. The hammer that John allocates to his strife specibus is monochrome, however, which fits really well with John allocating it on TG’s instructions and not knowing that the allocation is permanent. If he’d known, he would have chosen something he felt more strongly about.

Interestingly, the narrative text is black. I still don’t think we’re directly getting John’s perspective, I think that’s been filtered through a specific narrator who has a voice very different to John’s (based on John’s Pesterchum messages), but I don’t think John has any awareness of this. In contrast, he’s all too aware of his captchalogue deck and the artificial, needlessly complex limitations it imposes, and he visually reacts to us getting his name right or wrong. 

If John were to somehow become aware of the narrative text, and have strong feelings about the way he’s being portrayed (or the fact that he’s being written about at all), perhaps it would change color? After all, when John talks to his friends, each of them has a defined color, perhaps relating to the different relationships he has with each friend, and different emotions arising from that. John doesn’t seem to always like his friends - he gets frustrated at the notifications, and spends his whole conversation with TT already trying to leave - but he still replies and actively engages with them, a massive contrast to how he is with his dad. 

‘His riddle is Absence itself.’ (p.82)

To conclude, I do find it interesting that the brightest colors in the comic are the things that are most natural (grass, flowers) and the things that are most artificial (screens, the abstract concept of the inventory) while everything in the middle is black and white. This fits with the idea of color being about both extremes at once, and the idea that John wants a chance to explore both the real and virtual worlds. 

The meta function of color is to make certain visual elements stand out to the audience and tell us they’re worth paying attention to. From a purely functional perspective, it makes sense that the things most important to John would also be highlighted to us. But given the theme of lack and emptiness, the absence of color is just as important. And as the comic is already playing so much with the meta, I think that’s the most helpful starting point for analysis. 

[jammerskrik]

honestly I’ll never have a job as funny and wild as old 1950s cumbies. I think that’s probably the top silliest stupid job I’ve ever had. I had a coworker named kilfeather who was a late thirties obese literal fedora’d neckbeard, who unfailingly made the various (East Asian) women of Boston uncomfortable by being on brand to the point of addressing them as ‘M’lady,’ and split his time between manga and atheist reddit boards and masturbation. He gave his entire savings to The Occupy Movement, then rebuilt it only to then give it all to Bernie Sanders… he was Irish white trash from one of the most depressed towns in western mass, his parents were farmer-descended biker gang ppl that he dropped out of nineth grade to caretake once the cigarette genocide got them. He used to give me impassioned speeches about how the most important issue of our time is centering black and brown voices, and then, without fail, partially magic and partially because our boss was a black lady from Cali that hated most other African Americans, something beautiful and so fucking ironic and hilarious would happen.

Best was when we had to run down inventory to shut the gas station down around January 2019, our boss interrupted one of Kilfeather’s woke speeches about worshipping ppl darker than him to tell him to go clean out the little cup shed with me and Rokon, a banglandeshi indo-muzzy immigrant who at the time didn’t speak any English yet. Rokon began tossing all the spare foam coffee cup rolls out of the shed to me so I could bag them up, as Kilfeather waddled up through snowfall that was beginning to accumulate to watch us and, perhaps if the opportunity presented itself, resume his anti-racist speech.

About a minute later, Rokon had run out of cups and was suddenly madly pulling up endless flattened layers of shipping cardboard that had formed the flooring beneath the cup rolls, and I mean like decades of layers of flattened cardboard, the station was original from 1951 and the bottom decade or two had become dust and dirt. I stopped helping at my disgust threshold and just stood beside kilfeather in the snow watching R manically pry out every layer and heave it into a comically large pile as if his life depended on it until he suddenly froze. He stood there for a few moments, turned and looked at me n kilfeather, then smiled wide, disappearing into the small old shed like laughing, but a strange rare laugh to hear from a man like that; he squealed with absolute delight then vanished. Kilfeather looked at me like, what? does this mean??

But I didn’t get to reply because Rokon had emerged from the shed holding some kind of giant frozen tangled black disk about a meter in diameter. Kilfeather and I were both immediately instinctually repulsed though neither of us could really process what the disk was in that moment, as Rokon stood there dusted in snow and beaming… but we realised right as he spun around like a discus thrower, launching a massive frozen-solid City of Boston Real Life Rat King into Kilfeather’s face and chest.

There were two black crackheads from Kentucky who would stand outside the gas station like Jay and Silent Bob -style and by this point they were watching in the background, as was our boss. The Crackheads began heckling/roasting the fuck out of Kilfeather and calling him a faggot, and he let out a whine to our boss lady, to see if she could please make the addicts of colour stop calling him the f-slur. she was super Christian and super racist and she gracefully walked to Kilfeather through the snow and was like ‘well baby, I am worried that you never stand up for yourself, if Rokon hadda thrown that at me I wouldda whooped his ass to Death on the spot!’

idk cumbies was super funny

[lonesome-witching]

Secret Admirer

This is a storyline I have explored before a while back but I was delighted to do it again and slightly different, so thank you for the prompt @ronance4life42. I hope you guys like this one. If you want a similar work you can check out Be My Valentine all the way back from June.

You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

Dear Nancy,

I’m not sure where to start. It appears I never know where to start, and especially not with you. It’s stupid really, how easily I care about your judgement. You see, I want you to like me, I really do. And well, I don’t think you do. It is not something I blame you for. I wouldn’t like me either. I don’t like me actually. But yet, I want you to like me.

I want you to like me because I like you. It is the most logical reason. And perhaps also the silliest. Because it seems impossible that you could ever like me. Or at least that you could ever like me in the way I like you.

Maybe that is the point of this silly letter. Maybe the point is that I like you too much. That I see you across the hallway and I’ll want to approach. That I hear your voice and can’t refrain myself from smiling.

It is not your beauty that enchants me, although it most definitely does, but it is your intellect, your passion, your drive. Perhaps it is everything about you, everything that makes you you.

It is silly, I suppose, that I’m willing to write poetry about a girl that doesn’t even like me. But Nancy, you are the type of girl that people write poetry about. It is while looking at you that I realize what overcomes the poets and artists in this world. Because suddenly I want to write, and I want to paint and draw and sculpt. I want to become a photographer and keep a portfolio of only you. And while others admire your beauty, I will think back to the person behind it.

Perhaps that would be enough. Although I doubt it. Because even more than that, I want you to like me. And that is even so much sillier.

Nancy turned the page in her hand. It had dropped out of her locker the second she had pulled it open. There was no name on the bottom of the page, not on the back either. No signature, no locker number, no indication of who it was from. Nothing. It just stopped at the end of that last sentence. Almost as if the writer had wanted to continue.

She sighed, folded the paper and placed it in one of textbooks. She hoped to forget it by the time first period started. She knew she wouldn’t. How could she forget such a letter? She needed to know who had written it.

Robin was already sitting in her usual seat when Nancy entered the classroom. Simply tapping her pencil on her desk and staring out the window. For a moment she did forget about the letter. It was the moment Robin looked up at her.

But the letter returned to her mind when she sat down next to her friend.

“Nancy, hi. Good morning!” Robin greeted, sitting up straighter.

“Good morning, Robin.” She was hesitating. Unsure of whether she should tell Robin about the letter. It felt nice that it was just for her. It felt nice to keep it a secret. “Robin?”

“Yeah?”

“I need your help with something. I got this letter and I need to know who it’s from.” Nancy carefully placed the letter on Robin’s desk. She wanted to pull it back, regretted handing it over already.

“Oh?” Robin slowly unfolded the letter.

“Can you help me?”

-

Dear Nancy,

Yesterday I sat in the school library and when I looked up from my copy of Dante’s Inferno, or well the school’s copy, you were there. You were sighing as you skimmed through books and I was reminded of wanting to paint you. Those are the moments I want to keep forever. The ones that aren’t mine and yet they are. Everyone could have watched you, but no one did. No one but me. It felt all too intimate, looking at you work.

I’m beginning to worry that I’ll come off as a creep. I promise I’m not a stalker. I just

You are just too extraordinary for me not to pay attention.

“I’m not sure who it could be, Nance. It’s certainly not Steve, that much is clear.” Robin took a bit out of her sandwich. Nancy noticed she did that sometimes. She’d start eating in the middle of a sentence to keep herself from saying to much. Nancy hated that she did that.

“I hadn’t expected it to be Steve.”

“I don’t think it’s Jonathan either.”

Nancy laughed at that. If Jonathan had felt that way about her, the way this secret admirer felt, he could have just said so. He had her in the palms of his hands, and he pushed her away. It wasn’t Jonathan.

“Could it be Tommy Hagan?” Robin asked seriously, before bursting into bright laughter. Nancy joined her. The idea of Tommy Hagan writing anything, especially something like this, was preposterous.

“Are you not taking this serious, Robin?” Nancy asked, still laughing. There was a warm feeling blooming in her chest. It only ever seemed to be there when she was around Robin.

“I’m just considering all the options.”

“Of course.” Nancy looked at the table, Robin’s gaze too bright to take in for too long. It was like staring at the sun.

“Talking about options, what if it’s Keith? He’d pay off someone to drop it in your locker.”

“Robin, stop!” Nancy laughed. She didn’t want Robin to stop. She never wanted Robin to stop doing anything.

-

Dear secret admirer,

It seems to me it is a bit unfair that you are allowed to know my name while I have no idea who you are. I will admit that since I have received your first letter, I have been searching for you. But it would be so much easier if you simply told me your name. Perhaps then I can stare at you the say you stare at me. Maybe then I’ll feel like picking up a pencil or a camera.

It is unfair that you refuse me the opportunity to do so. And yet, I look forward to receiving your letters. Somehow, they make me feel seen, make me feel known and appreciated. Maybe I’m the one being silly now, but I feel like I know you too. I know you without knowing you. It feels weird. You make me feel. That is just it. You, anonymous letter writer, you make me feel. I’m forever grateful for that.

Nancy

Robin’s hands were shaking. How could they not? How could they ever stop? The letter had been hidden in the school’s copy of Dante’s Inferno. Robin should have suspected it. She gave Nancy one detail and the girl jumped on it.

She had to write back. She had to write something back. But her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. And she wasn’t sure what she could possibly write.

-

Dear Nancy,

You are right. It is completely unfair. But I can’t tell you who I am. If you want to know why, I’m afraid it’s an awfully simple answer. I am a coward.

What would you do if you knew my name? I could see it go badly. I do see it go badly, every night when I lay myself down to sleep. People often talk about dreaming about their true love. But when I dream of you it is never pleasant. I don’t like dreaming of you, Nancy. I prefer to watch you while I’m awake. It is only then I can imagine something good. Not that I know for sure what it is that I’m imagining. Maybe I don’t imagine at all. Maybe I just watch.

I’m sorry if this is a disappointment. But maybe not every question needs an answer. Maybe not every mystery needs to be solved. Maybe I can continue to hide in the shadows just this once.

Because I can’t see this ending well for me. And perhaps I should have never written you any letters in the first place. I’m not even sure why I did. I shouldn’t have done it.

“Typical me. I get something good and I need to scare it away.” Nancy fell down in front of Robin, throwing the latest letter on the table.

“Oh, what happened?”

“I wrote back and now they are saying it was a mistake.”

“Have you figured out who it might be? Because I was thinking—"

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Nancy sighed. Maybe it really didn’t matter anymore. She looked at Robin’s fingers gripping the piece of paper.

“Okay,” Robin replied.

“Robin? Can I come over tonight?” Nancy slightly leaned forward.

-

“So, what are we doing tonight?” Robin fell on her bed. She looked much more at ease in her own room than she ever did in Nancy’s.

“Anything. I just wanted to be away from home for a bit. It gets too loud.”

Robin laughed. “It’s not like I can offer peace and quiet. I can never shut up.”

“I don’t want you to.” Nancy sat down on the bed, next to Robin.

“Be careful, Nance, you might start making me blush.”

“I’d love to see it.”

Robin turned away, fully turning into her pillow. Nancy wanted to grab her shoulders and pull her back. She didn’t need a secret admirer when she had Robin. Robin who gave up her free time to research anything and everything whenever Nancy asked. Robin who joined her to the library even when she had already finished her work. Robin who talked too much, Robin who listened.

Robin who was turning back toward her with a smile and a soft blush on her cheeks. Nancy leaned down, closer. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she knew she had to do it. Her lips brushed against Robin’s. Softly. Gently. She pressed slightly harder, truly kissing Robin for the first time. Robin’s body froze under Nancy.

“I’m sorry,” Nancy said when she pulled away.

“No, it’s okay. You’re good. I don’t mind. I liked it. I just— I have to— I’m gonna go to the bathroom for a second. I’ll be right back.” Robin jumped up, running out of the room as soon as possible and nearly tripping over her own feet multiple times.

Nancy groaned. She kept screwing things up. She turned her head toward the nightstand. A piece of paper lay there, lined and filled with words. She wasn’t going to look. Robin was entitled to her privacy. But Nancy saw her own name and she couldn’t resist.

Dear Nancy,

I know I have said that your beauty is not what drew me in, that it is your intellect and your curiosity, but that wasn’t entirely the truth. God, you’re so beautiful, Nancy. So incredibly beautiful. I want to

That’s all it said, stopping in the middle of the sentence. Nancy reread the paragraph. A second time and a third.

“I— I can explain,” Robin said, her voice disturbing Nancy from the many thoughts floating in her head.

“You wrote the letters. Of course, it was you.” She smiled as she closed the distance between them. This time when she kissed Robin, Robin kissed back. This time everything fell into place. Nancy slid her hands into Robin’s hair, holding her close. She never wanted to part from Robin again.

[illfoandillfie]

Blurb Advent 2023: Day 24

This idea came to me after seeing about a hundred reels on insta about guys in grey sweatpants lmao, so i wrote it.

Warnings: minimal editing ofc, making out, mostly pretty cute but quite a lot of dick talk

Ben had stuck the heating on but it was still getting warmed up, a slight chill through the house. The two of you were rugged up on the couch with some mulled wine Ben had decided to make, a gingerbread scented candle burning in the kitchen making the whole place smell festive, and a Christmas variety show playing in the background. The tree was lit up, perhaps unnecessarily considering it wasn’t yet night but the sky outside was grey, threatening to snow. Almost a cliched holiday scene. There was a pile of presents underneath, opne you’d have to load into the car in the morning since they were mostly for parents and siblings, uncles and aunts. Tomorrow would be chaotic since you were intending to visit both his and your families – lunch with one dinner with another – but that wasn’t new. Since your very first holiday with Ben, Christmas had been like that. It only took a couple of years for the two of you to declare Christmas Eve your day. Just the two of you, getting into the holiday spirit and probably making out a little.  

Tradition dictated that you each got to open one present on Christmas Eve. Usually, the silliest thing you’d got each other. You’d save the bigger, more impressive stuff for opening with everyone else, but there was always something smaller, something goofier that you could exchange the day before. Ben sorted through the pile under the tree until he pulled out a smallish square box, wrapped up in paper with candy canes printed on it.   “Merry Christmas Eve, babe,” he said softly, handing it to you with a small kiss.   You tore into it excitedly, revealing the box which claimed to contain a galaxy projector, “Oh my god Ben! This is so cool!”  He gave you a pleased little grin, “I thought you’d like it.”  You fussed about getting it out of the box and plugging it in as Ben set to opening the package you’d given him.   “Oh score, babe! I needed new trackies” Ben said, holding up the grey sweatpants you’d bought him.  You giggled, “no problem honey.”  “Am I old? I just got ridiculously excited about what I definitely would have considered a boring present as a kid. Does that make me old?”  “Aww honey, no. They’re very hip and cool. All the hot young things are buying them for their guys. The internet tells me so.”  “What are you on about?”  “You haven’t seen those insta reels? The memes about how hot guys in grey trackies are?”  “Ummm no. Oh god maybe I really am old.”  You snorted, “If you put them on I can explain what the memes are. But no undies okay?”  “And that will make me young? Sounds crazy but okay, they look really fucking comfy.” 

In the time it took for Ben to go and change you managed to get the galaxy projector working. It wasn’t quite as good as the box implied but it was cute and you liked how it looked.  “Woah, hey, that’s pretty cool.” Ben said, stairing up at the stars on the ceiling, “I thought it was gonna be a bit shitter to be honest.”  You were placing the projector on the coffee table, laughing, but as you turned you nearly choked. The memes had been right, it was hot. You could see practically everything.   Ben was oblivious to your staring, “Babe you did so well, these are so comfy I love them.” He did a bit of a turn in them, letting you see his ass for a moment before the outline of his cock was back in front of your eyes.   “Honey why don’t you come sit,” you patted the couch beside you.  Ben seemed a little surprised but he obliged.  “In fact, why don’t you put your feet up,” you scooted off the couch so Ben had space to stretch out.  “Uhhh, yeah alright. Don’t you want to sit too though?”  “Oh I will,” you let Ben get settled before pouncing, straddling him and leaning in to kiss him.  Ben hummed into the kiss, his arms automatically wrapping around you and pulling you close.   “Not sure what that was about,” he said softly when you finally broke apart, “but I’m not complaining. Just tell me what I did to get you so horny, so I can do it again.”  “Did you not look at yourself in a mirror when you changed into these pants?”  “No,”  “So you didn’t realise how visible your dick is?”  “Is it?”  You laughed, “This isn’t helping make you seem less old. That’s what the memes are about and I can tell you they’re spot on. I’ve been staring at your cock since you changed.”  “Oh, wel-”  “Shh, don’t say anything else, it’ll only distract from making out.”  Ben groaned as you rocked forward, his cock pressed against your cunt, “Yeah okay, good plan. 

[mayuichi]

𓆩♡𓆪 “Feeling lonely ? Let me keep you company... Or perhaps you're bored of my hyperactivity...„ ♢ ੭

✧ 『 Masterlist 』 ✧

ALSO CHECK ⤷ /ᐠ - ˕ •マ ⳊTo know more about me! 【 ღ Main Page -`♡´- 】 ⤷ /ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ To request! ✧ 『 Rules and Requesting 』 ✧

══˖⁺.══╡Genshin Impact╞══.⁺˖══

୧ ITTO ꣹

“i found saberlight...„ “Happy birthday!„ (special gift - won't suit everybody)

୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ KAZUHA KAEDEHARA ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ♡.°₊ˎˊ˗

“Darling, I'm home.„

𓆩⚝𓆪 SCARAMOUCHE ʚїɞ WANDERER ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“You want to spend our money on... that?„

☘︎ TIGHNARI ✿

“That... is the silliest thing I have ever heard of you.„ “So... You like my scolding?„

𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ DEHYA ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

“Come on, I'm sure that day isn't lost yet!„

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ FURINA ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

She wants to trust you. Give her reasons trust you. Give her reasons be happy.

𓃠 WRIOTHESLEY ☾

“My joy... My joy is when I'm next to them.„

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 COLUMBINA 🂱 DAMSELETTE 🕊

“... I couldn't let you be sad, could I ?„

⃝𖤐 ARLECCHINO 𐙚 THE KNAVE ༊·˚

“Oh, you're still here ?„

‧˚₊⋅ ୨ MORIARTY THE PATRIOT ୧ ⋅₊˚‧

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. WILLIAM JAMES MORIARTY ✧˖*°࿐

“Rest assured, it is not mine.„

*ੈ✩‧₊˚｡ ू ₒ ु ˚MULTIPLE CHARACTERS˚ ◌༘♡⋆｡˚ ꕥ༊*·˚

[A smart reader, you say?] [William James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes.]

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ HONKAI STAR RAIL ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

❀ JING YUAN ੭

“It can wait. For now, I just want to be with you only.„

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ BUNGO STRAY DOGS ˚｡⋆ ೀ ༘˚

☆ NIKOLAI GOGOL ⟢

“If I die in the process, will you join me?„

✵ SAIGIKU JOUNO ⊹

“... I didn't meant what I said.„

・┆✦ ʚ ♡ PERSONA 5 ♡ ɞ ✦ ┆・

⌕ Nothing here yet... Come check back in a few days!〣

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚ DIABOLIK LOVERS ɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა KOU MUKAMI ˖࿐

“I convinced Ruki and Yuma, just for you!„

˃̵ᴗ˂̵ AZUSA MUKAMI ✸

“You should... wear one with me...„

༘⋆♡MAGIC KYUN!RENAISSANCE⊹。°˖➴

ೀㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ♡ oop... nothing is here! come back next time! ♡₊˚ ・₊ ♪ ✧

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ OMORI ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

꣼ MARI ᨐᵉᵒʷ

“Pfiew. If Hero would've caught us, he would've scold us.„

˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ ✧ DANGANRONPA V3 ✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

𓍯 Still nothing... Come back later! ะ

⋆˙⟡♡ ASSASSINATION CLASSROOM ♡⟡⋆˙

��� seems empty... sorry! maybe another time? ೃ࿔

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ RAINWORLD ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ it was supposed to be only a joke but that game is a hyperfixation and its killing me so perhaps.. they'll be something there one day? ₊˚⊹≽^•⩊•^≼₊˚⊹

. • °⛓✧༺ MULTIFANDOM ༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚⛓

[How your partner reacts when you're on your periods.] - Include: Heizou, Lyney, Wriothesley, Alhaitham, Veritas Ratio, Kafka, Tetcho Suehiro, Jouno Saigiku, William James Moriarty. [Spending your birthday with them.] - Include: Alhaitham, Wriothesley, Heizou, Aventurine, Veritas Ratio, Akechi Goro, William James Moriarty, Fred Porlock.

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ Thank you for your time once again. I hope you had fun with me. Come back whenever you want, alright sweetie? ･: * .ೃ࿔ ⋆

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuichi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.

[come-down-that-tree]

Prologue Previous

/!\ violence warning! I'm not kidding there, it is unfair, it is one-sided, no big graphics or gore but still, violence.

Come Down That Tree! (An aftermare story)

Chapter 21:ومرة أخرى يتم دفعك على الأرض..

Nightmare dashed down the hill, trying his best to not trip in his haste (task that was certainly not aided by the fact he lost that shoe).

And that must be the silliest, clumsiest, stupidest little mistake he ever made.

How did he even manage that?

A laugh that sounded slightly too high and strained bubbled out of him as he ran (and stumbled) eyes strained on the ground, searching.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

The guardian almost ran straight into the first house’s wall, not noticing he had reached the settlement already. 

He zoomed through the streets, hopping over empty crates abandoned after the market ended. The place was almost quiet, most of the people already back home, eating and preparing for the falling night. The orange rays danced on the stone paths, breached by his moving silhouette.

No boot yet.

Nightmare slowed down once the place came to view and stopped to watch the fountain’s water for a moment. 

The light hitting the water made it shine and the droplets displayed tiny rainbows, barely noticeable to distracted eyes. And while the show was lovely and he couldn’t help but be tempted to take a break and sit there…, he still needed to complete his current shameful quest.

Would Geno enjoy the sight?

Putting the thought away, Nightmare continued his search, this time at a less hurried pace.

Walking with only one shoe was a bit strange. His right foot’s bones clinked on the stone while the sole of his leftover shoe made a thump noise.

Click-thump-click-thump.

Orange rays were starting to thin out and shadows grew everywhere, a faraway child’s laugh resonated one last time but the silence truly seized the place.

People had the habit of retreating early on market day, putting on bigger dinners than usual with earthy food and in the company of neighbors and friends. The only one out at this hour on such days were originals, lonely souls and lost drunks. Some wandered until the morning, barely acknowledging the rare passerby, melted into their own worlds.

Nightmare reached the stand where he bought the ring, while it had been cleared of all items, the table still stood there, looking out of place. And right next to it, a very familiar shoe with a paper half-buried in.

The paper was unfolded by curious fingers, his eyelights swinging left to right, reading the words etched on it:

“You forgot something, smitten bozo.”

Uh. Smitten… Bozo…? Was it him that paper referred to? Why would someone call him smitten? Wasn’t that reserved to describe doofus in love or something?

A little voice, very annoying, whispered he very much knew what that paper was referring to but he shut it down.

It was NOT like that, thank you very much.

Audibly grumbling and feeling the air warming up a few degrees, Nightmare put his boot back where it belonged (on his foot) and prepared to walk the way home.

Perhaps if he hurried enough, he would still be able to see some of the sunset over the hill.

That plan was thwarted down rather quickly when while trudging along the main street something made pain explode behind his head and his world dipped into shadows.

There was a fourth kind of person that could be out at this hour on such a day… ill-intention bandits…

Nightmare vaguely remembered his body being dragged on the ground for a while, pebbles scraping his bones and getting stuck between his joints, his mind swimming in and out.

Until cold water was dumped on his head and his focus came back with a startled cry.

The alley was so dark, the night having come at one point during the ordeal. The only source of light was dancing around the fingers of a thin, almost skeletal, hare monster. It was yet another purple hare and he was starting to wonder if that family had a special feud against him in particular. 

A group of five was cackling and pointing at him, still tucked against a wall, running his hand against the back of his head, feeling thin cracks under his phalanges. It hurted…

He sat there and took a moment to calm down, avoiding even glancing towards his current problem.

He was going to get beaten up, again.

“What were you doing in our town, demon?”

A woman, built like a mountain, spit at his feet.

Nightmare kept his eyes on the ground, trying to reign in the wetness starting to spread on his cheeks.

A hand harshly grabbed on his head and made him look up into big brown eyes he would have called beautiful if not for the blazing hate swimming inside.

“Where’s your manners, crybaby, don’t you know you should look when someone’s talking to you? I guess trees aren’t very good teachers, uh?”

A row of laughter erupted all around as he pushed down the indignation deep deep down. Do not show your weaknesses now.

The hand disappeared and he rubbed at his aching jaw.

Nightmare made the mistake of looking up and the pure well of fury and disgust in the group’s eyes told him something: it was going to end badly and, this time, those weren’t the usual little bullies looking for entertainment before leaving him ragged but alive, those were the eyes of killers…

Shaking, he watched the hare, which seemed to be the leader of the band, crouching in front of him, cocking their head and grinning with all their teeth.

“Tell me, your mad freak isn't here, is he? That guy did a number on both my cousins and I wasn’t looking forward to shaking hands!”

“He’s not a freak,” whispered Nightmare.

“Oh, look at who got a tongue, mind talking louder? My friend Barnie,” the hare pointed to an old man leaning on a wall, “he doesn’t hear quite well anymore you see?”

A boot found its way in his ribs not even a second later sending him splaying on the ground in a grunt.

“Didn’t you hear my man, speak.”

A panda monster he could only describe as average glared at him fiercely and he almost returned it before thinking about it again.

That rib was bruised at worst but it was still painful. Putting a hand against the ground, Nightmare pushed himself up and leaned against the well.

“I said, he’s not a freak.”

Silence. For a single precious instant. Before the panda frowned, the hare chuckled, the mountain guffawed and the old man rolled his eyes.

Only the last member of this joyful company kept their expression blank, a small person, maybe the youngest of the troup, covered in so many layers of clothes he couldn’t even guess what they were easily.

They tipped their head, eyes gleaming with a dangerous light and declared with a soft but deep voice:

“I hope you don’t mind if we don’t believe anything you could utter, prince of darkness.”

“Yeah, “guardian of negativity” or whatever, you’re just useless anyway.”

“We don’t need negativity.”

“Dream is far enough useful for two.”

Nightmare stopped following who was saying what, his alarm bells were all ringing high and lough and his knees felt so weak he had to focus all his will on them to not buckle under his own weight.

His own energy thrummed under his bones and scalding warmth traveled through his limbs.

“Hey, we could teach the incarnation of bad what’s a real nightmare? I bet we’ll be hailed heroes for that, not like ‘nybody would miss this thing.”

He was going to die. Just, die. In that alleyway, miserable and useless.

Arms reached for him, everywhere.

No escape roads.

He felt something wet and hot running along his hands and on instinct, the guardian slashed into the air. 

Startled cries of pain, a few arms backed away.

“WHAT ARE YOU ABOMINATION, A FUCKING SQUID? UGH IT BURNS”

To his immense surprise, it seemed that he did not imagine his boiling energy leaking out and that wide arm gesture had sprayed some on the others who did not enjoy the experience much. The purple magic was so concentrated it was almost black and he doubted it would be easy to remove that from clothes and fur…

His fusing thoughts were stopped by the mountain woman pinning him against the wall with all her weight and he squeezed his eyes shut at the sudden discharge of pain running through his whole rib cage.

“Hold him on the ground for me, Caramila.”

He didn’t have his word to say on the matter and soon his pinned-against-the-wall situation turned into a pinned-against-the-ground situation. Not much better.

He felt like he should be panicking right now. But his mind felt strangely calm and blank, his attackers movements seemed slow and far.

A boot hit the top of his humerus with the sickening crack.

Nightmare howled.

End of chapter 21... Go to chapter 22?

@dragon-tamer-1 @shinechermont

Geno!Sans belongs to @/loverofpiggies Nightmare, Dream and dreamtale belong to @/jokublog

[tcatzen]

I need to get this out before I lose the thought:

Imagine something stops Billy from offering to hook up with Karen that day day at the pool. Maybe it's Heather coming up to the pair and rudely pulling him away because maybe she doesn't like Karen personally. Maybe someone cannonballs into the water and Billy has to reprimand them. Maybe Billy is just tired of performing hetero and decides to nip Karen's fixation in the bud.

But because he doesn't drive out to meet Karen, he DOESN'T get possessed by the Mindflayer. Someone else does, maybe that same night, maybe a couple days later and someone else has been possessed, and it's not Heather either.

This changes the timelines a bit so perhaps Steve and Robin become friends a bit earlier and he finds out about Robin's sexuality earlier too. Or maybe Steve, Robin, Dustin and Erica make it out from the Russian underground and the whole group is trying to figure out how to destroy the Russian's weaponry. Joyce and Hopper haven't kidnapped Alexei and taken him to Murray yet, and the Mindflayer is just starting to build his army but his form isn't corporeal yet so they've got some time. Maybe they're unaware still that the Mindflayer is back because Will hasn't actually told them about the sensations he's been feeling. But they've got some time.

So picture Robin wanting to go to the community pool all summer because she has a huge crush on Heather, and maybe Vicki goes to the pool too with her boyfriend, and Robin is secretly a masochist who drools after two hot seemingly unavailable girls. And now that they're friends, Robin drags Steve to the pool every single time.

And maybe Billy is there often enough and Billy just can't help himself. He snarks (flirts) on Steve and Steve is just done. He had to deal with Billy in school, and now he has to deal with him at the pool? He doesn't want to keep going to the pool and even tells Robin that if she wants to swim that much, they can swim in the pool at his house, even though it freaks him out that Barb died there. And he points out that Robin doesn't even actually swim when she goes to the pool.

But maybe Robin secretly knows what Billy is doing is just mis-aligned flirting, and even though she's not sure if Steve would be receptive to it, she forces him to keep going. But she is validated more and more as Billy's flirting becomes more and more pointed and Steve becomes more and more flushed, and she's like, damn I was right!

Maybe Robin and Billy start to become friends because she recognizes what he's hiding and she makes pains to get past his aloof veneer. And maybe Billy lets her because he likes her sass and starts to realize that Robin has been staring at Heather every time she's on shift and he's starting to piece it together.

And maybe they secretly wingman/wingwoman each other. One time Robin pushes Billy into the pool right in front of Steve and instead of going crazy being angry Billy takes the opportunity to pull himself out of the pool all seductively, dripping wet, and he knows it's working because Steve's mouth is hanging open, his lips red and pretty, and Steve's only got eyes for him.

Maybe the next time he knows they're coming to the pool, Billy switches shifts (or guard chairs) with Heather and Robin has to go up to Heather and ask where Billy is and make small talk and she's red and embarrassed because she doesn't know what to say but Heather is easy to talk to and suddenly they find themselves just laughing over the silliest things. And Steve's sitting there like the proudest friend in the universe and maybe sharing looks later with Billy like they just know those two girls are finally on the same page.

But then the Mindflayer gets corporealized and Billy is somehow around to witness it, like maybe Neil was wondering where Max was again and told him to go get her OR ELSE, and Billy catches up to her just at the moment that El is being pulled by the monster with its tentacles and Billy's got a switchblade in his shoe and grabs that and he's helping Lucas hack the tentacle off. He's kinda freaking out, but neither Max nor Steve are, they're just rolling with the punches, so he tells them that he'll help them but they owe him the full story later.

And maybe Heather and Robin are on a date when the Mindflayer crashes into the mall tracking El and the party, and Robin is furiously trying to protect her girlfriend from this monster. And Heather's like, wtf?! But she tries to help Robin protect the kids.

And then it becomes Joyce, Hopper and Murray shutting down the gate and destroying the Russian weapons and everyone living happily ever after until the next monster (Neil).

Long story short, Billy and Heather live, get to hunt monsters, and find peace with their partners.

(Also Eddie's in the background somewhere. I don't think he'd show up at the pool, but I would love to see some sort of friendship between him and Billy lol)

I would have loved to have written this story as an actual fic but I am having a hard time getting myself to write right now, so here you go.

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

For Riddlers, He has a crush on a woman who works in SPA as massager and to spend time with her he just books a massage. And it's so good, he is super relaxed and is almost falling asleep.

"Magic Hands" Riddler Party x F!Reader

This sounds like pre-any kind of relationship so that's where I'm going with it. I don't like a lot of touching but if I'm in the right mood I love someone cracking my back like a glowstick.

TW: Suggestive

Gotham

Because of the Tism, he's very specific on how he likes to be touched. Rather touch-aversive as it were except for a select few people. That's why he thinks it would be okay if his crush touched him... Probably. The worst case scenario, he could always ask for the massage to stop. He's willing to risk it to spend more time with her. Given their respective... career choices, dalliances tend to be few and far between. Especially considering she seems to have no idea he's in love with her, from his perspective.

The truth is, she's very aware but also understandably nervous about him crushing given some of his past history. So when he shows up for a massage, her stomach drops a tad. Is this some way of getting fresh with her? No, he's not like that. It's... probably just being supportive of her business and being a nice friend :)

Hopefully. He seems shy when she tells him he has to take his clothes off and when she comes back in, he's positioned himself perfectly with the towel over his ass as he lays on his stomach. She takes off his glasses for him which is much more intimate than he would have expected. He actually flinches when she touches him at first and she's asking if he's okay. Yet the more she smooths her hands over his back, the more relaxed he seems to get. Slowly, slowly he melts further into the table.

His lanky arms and legs get the treatment with lotions and pressure points and he's in heaven. He doesn't quite fall asleep but he's almost there as she quietly informs him to take his time getting dressed. He's more determined than ever in his feelings for her while she's got a lot of thinking to do.

60s

This is one of his silliest plans yet. His sweet paramour, washing away the pains and aches of the patrons of Gotham. She doesn't quite think of him that way yet! Yet! Yet, Edward is so certain of his charms and intelligence winning over the pretty lady of his eyes. He's had flowers delivered, riddle-filled notes written and sent. But perhaps the real kicker will be her getting to know him a bit better!

What better way than having unrestricted access to her for a whole hour with no one else to bother them? In a perfectly professional way, of course. At least that's what he thinks until she tells him it's an all-nude massage. Just a towel lightly covering him. He gulps a little. Is he prepared for the woman of his dreams seeing him au naturel? He's doing his best to be covered and incredibly respectful in this state because he's not THAT much of a cad.

If she allows him, he's going to talk her ear off the entire time, sighing and praising her as she hits all those sweet spots in his muscles. Let him tell you all about HIM, dear! He's got a fine career as Riddler extraordinaire, yes sometimes he's in prison, but doesn't it excite you? Just a little? What about his clever wit? Why don't you tell him more about you, then?

At some point, he might trail off a little, getting sleepy but still murmuring and talking to her as if she can understand. Suddenly everything feels so nice and he's not even thinking about how he'll crush Batman, the boy blunder and prove himself which is a feat in and of itself.

By the end of it, she's actually gotten a nice picture of him outside the persona. Still obnoxious, but... Actually kind of a sweet man.

Capullo/Zero Year

God, he's so fucking smug about it. When she initially rejected his advances in a way that wasn't an explicit "no", he decided he just needed to leverage her attention a little bit! Pop up when she least expects it. A little seduction here and there- He'll win her over for sure.

He looks like the cat who got the cream when he shows up to his appointment, ready to undress down to his skivvies on a dime. Are you Hecate because he's heard you've got some magi- okay okay, he's getting on the table.

This is going to seriously backfire on him because he's so desperately touch-starved. Her hands on his skin, even through the towel is... intoxicating. He let's out this tiny little moan at one point and they both know he's fucked.

Oh the weight of the world that rests upon those shoulders! If only she knew! If only he could whisk her away to become his companion away from the ignorant, vapid world that doesn't appreciate her! He's almost purring and singing her praises as the appointment goes on. Getting a little drowsy...

She has to give him a light smack on his shoulder to let him know he can't just sleep here. His appointment is over, come on. The only bonus in his favor is that was a lot of power to have over a man like him. Definitely an intoxicating feeling.

"You... should definitely expect a large tip." He winks, "And a regular." The moment she teases him about being a little too into it, however, and he's flushed and trying to get out of there as soon as possible. Too vulnerable! Have to leave NOW!

BTAS

He spent years as a graphic/coding/physical designer for toys and games so you know his shoulders and lower back suck. He probably used to get massages every once in a while when he had a steady gig because it was a "normal" thing to do. Now he finds it almost frivolous... Until he finds out the object of his affections happens to do it. The thought crosses his mind multiple times that maybe he should- no. No, that would be disrespectful.

Echo and Query happen to see his dilemma... and help him out by just making the appointment for him. He can't cancel now! It'd be rude! She'll KNOW- He relents to go and is incredibly flustered for 90% of it. Trying to be cool about it. OH. He didn't realize this was your place. Or your name. Even after you told him.

He's thrilled when he's asked just to go down to his underwear. While he's not self-conscious about his body, the combination of intimacy and being completely naked might end up in a slip-up and if that happens he will die. She can't think of him as some juvenile who pops an erection at the drop of a hat- He's so focused in all of these thoughts that she has to tell him to relax or else the massage is going to do nothing for him.

That of course, makes him beet red in the face and he tries to quiet down his brain for a bit. The relief is instant. She's getting out knots that have been there for years and if she even slightly recommends any self-care packages, he's on it. Spa day this man up. He not only deserves it, but he's got no qualms about seeming not masculine for it.

When he leaves, him and his crush are practically kissing cheeks because the experience has been kind of a delight. If there was a competition for best Riddler to massage... it very well might be BTAS. Will get a manicure with you and also massage you back.

Telltale

At first it was a sort of recon. Testing the waters to see how she would respond to him showing up in her daily monotonous life. If there would be signs of someone else. Someone he actually had to worry about. It felt ridiculous, he thought, to have a crush like this and want to check on them. But if he's going to act on some schoolboy infatuation, he's going to be thorough.

She's... surprised, to say the least. He's not exactly a man that reads liking a lot of physical touch. Yet he's professional and cool about the undressing.

There are multiple times where his back and bones cracking almost echoes off the walls. Holy fuck has this man never heard of self-care? When she lightly jokes that he might need a chiropractor, he almost scowls. If he wanted anything other than her, he would have gotten it. The awkward silence that followed caused him to clear his throat.

She adds an extended hot stone massage free of charge because if anyone needs his muscles worked and relaxed, it's this fucking guy. At first he almost refused, not wanting her to fuss, but... Additional time with her and she seems to be concerned for his well-being. Perhaps this time it would be alright if she fussed. Just a little. To get their relationship on a good start.

Oh, he needed it. He feels like someone gave him a new body afterwards. Maybe there really is something to this. He'll... have to come again. Not for her, he tells her, he just doesn't trust anyone else.

Arkham

Since he can't exactly find a plethora of reasons for his crush to come to him... he decided on a whim to go to her. He actually showered and wore non-grease stained clothing, that should prove in itself how committed he is to this. He didn't want to risk being gross in her place of work, especially not with her touching him. Some scraps of consideration can go a long way.

The outright shock on her face is palpable. Not only is he here... but he wants her services? He smells nice? Is this a trick...? Some complex riddle that ends in her being horrifically mauled by a device of some sort? But no, he undresses and gets on the table and she can see him exposed. Well. Time to get to it.

The fucking knots in this man's back. Something about being hunched over a desk for hours to days at a time really does something to you. He does wonder briefly if some of his irritability can be directly related to chronic pain and not just because everyone else is an idiot. Something to think about as she works her skill over his skin.

Small groans occasionally escape his lips as she goes and she'll ask him if he's okay, if she's going too hard- He'll tell her to go harder. It's alright. It's... more than alright, actually. It's putting him to sleep. Yet her concern is more than just endearing. Even with the slight anxiety she might feel around him, knowing she cares is...

This was one of his best plans yet.

2022

This was a terrible idea. Oh no, this was a terrible, awful idea. He'd made the appointment after one of his runs as the Riddler. In his mask he felt confident and able to take on anything. Just make an online appointment at his crushes work. He can feel a sense of power in the dynamic and get to spend time with her. But as the appointment approaches...

He gets so nervous coming in, he knocks his body hard into the massage table and almost eats shit. Not to mention the horrible flustered stuttering when he was told he needed to get down to his underwear. and his glasses off!

For the first half of the appointment, he's terrified of getting a boner. Her hands are so warm and so soft and he's thinking about how nice they'd feel other places and- no! Focus... Focus... Oh this actually feels... kind of nice...

His anxiety plus generalized exhaustion from not sleeping wins out in the end. His crush might get a rather endearing moment when they hear his tiny little snore against the pillow. A little drool in the corner of his mouth. She has a chunk of time between appointments.

It won't hurt to let him sleep for ten minutes. Seems like he needs it, poor guy.

[sylvia-forest]

[CN] Shaw's 6th Anniversary event - Finale (Part 1)

⚡ Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an Event which hasn't been released in EN yet!⚡

[Day 5]

MC: Do you remember the event "To Myself 365 Days Later" that we participated in last year?

Shaw: I haven't forgotten. Judging by your excitement, did you receive the letter you wrote to yourself last year? MC: Exactly! Did you receive yours? Shaw: Let me check... Oh, indeed, I did. MC: Quickly, let me see what questions you asked last year. Shaw: Hold on, do you want to see mine? How about exchanging yours? MC: ...Alright, let's look at mine first and then yours!

Under the bright lights, Shaw's eyes sparkled with curiosity, as if waiting for my answer.

Looking at the familiar yet distant questions in the email, my heart was stirred.

The first question I asked myself was: Are you living happily? My answer was...

After answering, I looked at the unusually quiet Shaw.

MC: Why aren't you saying anything? Not even a sarcastic comment...?

Shaw: Because you look so serious, much more refreshing than when you're usually making a fuss. Shaw: I don't want to spoil the atmosphere. MC: After all, it's a ceremonial thing, of course, we should treat it well. MC: Now it's your turn.

Shaw smiled, slowly took out his phone.

He didn't rush to open the email; instead, his gaze fixed on me.

Shaw: It's up to you to look, but let's get one thing straight—I won't answer every question. MC: Are you afraid your questions are "difficult to answer"? Shaw: What are you thinking? How could I dig a pit for myself?

He stubbornly squinted his eyes, raised his hand, and opened the email.

—

Life is not like archaeology—no clear origins, no clear classifications. Many questions need to be answered by oneself. But I've always enjoyed taking on challenges.

So today, I wrote down these questions. As for how to comprehend them, it's up to you a year from now.

As for me, I like to add difficulty for my future self. Now, tell me, which moment of hers was the silliest this year?

Do you know how to skillfully handle her when she pretends to be angry?

When she buries herself in work and ignores you, how can you attract her attention reasonably?

You probably have the answers already, right?

—

A ripple of emotions surged within me, and I happily leaned in front of Shaw.

MC: Why are all your questions related to me? Shaw: What do you think? In that situation last year, I couldn't think of anything else.

I paused for a moment, realizing what he meant by "that situation," and then chuckled.

MC: Some people looked composed at the time, but unexpectedly, they had their own troubles~

[T/N]: By ‘that situation’ means, Shaw and MC were having a “cold war” last year, although Shaw looked calm and composed on the outside but inside he was wrecking his mind as how to end this "cold war"! You can read the event from here.

He slightly averted his gaze, speaking somewhat unnaturally.

Shaw: Anyway, those are all in the past. MC: True, let's focus on the present~ So, these questions related to me should be easy to answer, right?

Seeing that I set a trap, Shaw grinned and seemed ready to counterattack.

Shaw: Still not difficult? The first one is a tough one. Shaw: You've had too many silly moments; I can't rank them. MC: ...Then you can skip it! Answer the second one first! Shaw: No, I like taking on challenges. Shaw: The silliest moment... Should I say singing in the shower? Shaw: Or perhaps every time you work overtime with that "life has no meaning" look? Shaw: Let's use the process of elimination. First, list the rare moments when you're clever. Shaw: This way, what's left will be the silliest... MC: Shaw!

I raised my fist, but he grabbed it and then turned me around, holding me in his arms.

Shaw: I already answered the second question. Shaw: In terms of counterattacking, I've become more proficient.

The breath tickling my neck made me laugh uncontrollably.

MC: Alright, alright, I won't argue with you! Answer the third one quickly!

Shaw: The third question is framed incorrectly.

I paused, turning to look at him.

Shaw: As long as it's something I want to do at the moment, I won't consider what's reasonable. Shaw: Whether it's kidnapping you or tempting you with something fun. Shaw: I won't let any opportunity slip by.

In the dim light, his confident expression gleamed. I chuckled and nestled into his embrace.

MC: But I won't cooperate with you every time.

Shaw: Doesn't matter. There's always a way to make you cooperate. Shaw: I'm always confident about that.

—

MC: Since it's a little flower hat you gave me, I've decided to let you help me put it on~ Shaw: ...Troublesome. MC: Hmph, then I'll put it on myself. ￣⁠ヘ⁠￣ Shaw: Did I say I wouldn't help? Shaw: There, it's on. (一_,一) You look even sillier now. Shaw: Indeed, this silly and cute style doesn't really suit you.

MC: Is that so? Then why does someone keep staring at me? MC: Could it be they find me cute but are too shy to say it out loud? Shaw: Tch, what's there to be shy about? MC: Oh? Is that so? My ears are perking up—Shaw! MC: (///¯皿¯) Why are you using the hat to press down my ears! MC: Shaw, aren't we supposed to be heading back? Where else are we going on the way? Shaw: You'll find out when you get there. Shaw: It's definitely beyond your expectations.

—

MC: Undersea tunnel...?! MC: Wait, isn't this supposed to be a detour on the way back? MC: How did we end up crossing several cities to get here? Shaw: It's a secret. Shaw: You'll find out when the time comes.

—

The moment I stepped into the passage, it was as if I had entered another world of wonder.

The arched passage, made of a giant transparent glass, extends forward under a "blue sky," and waves of fish swim by.

Curious, I look around, and Shaw raises his jaw at me.

Shaw: Just looking at it is boring. How about... we also swim under the sea? MC: You mean scuba diving! Shaw: Let's broaden our horizons a bit. Who said we can only scuba dive under the sea? Let's go for a mix-and-match style.

Shaw opened a hidden door behind him and took out two skate boards with a familiar pattern, making my eyes widen.

MC: Aren't these our backup boards? When did you put them in? Shaw: About a month or two ago. MC: ...?

Seeing my lack of reaction, Shaw puts his hand into his pocket.

Shaw: I overestimated you. I thought you'd figure out why I brought you here as soon as you arrived. Turns out you're not only dumb but also have a terrible memory.

MC: What do you mean?

Shaw: There was once an island lord who claimed he'd build the world's best undersea tunnel. But now it seems that guy was just all talk and no action.

This is a reference from the 'Four season event' (I didn't play this event so I don't know much about it (┬┬﹏┬┬)

MC: ......!

Memories of the summer island flood back, and I sweep my gaze around in disbelief, almost breaking into a high-pitched tone.

MC: No way? Shaw... you actually built an undersea tunnel for me?

Shaw: ......

He wordlessly flicks my forehead with his fingers.

Shaw: I'm not a God. Where would I build an undersea tunnel for you? MC: But you... Shaw: Thanks to Professor Shen being invited as a consultant for relics here, I took the opportunity to offer my help. Shaw: The condition was for him to clear this place for me for a day.

I pause, and emotions surge within me, mirroring the silent waves — I never expected that a casual remark would be remembered for so long.

MC: Even if you didn't build it, you still brought me here, so it's just as valuable in my heart. MC: But you're really good at keeping secrets. You hid it from me for a month or two, and only now...

I suddenly stop and realize the subtle aspect of this.

MC: Hold on, so you originally planned to bring me here? What about the RV trip...

Shaw: What's the big deal? This little accident won't affect my plans. Shaw: It's just making this day a bit more interesting before moving on. Nothing wrong with that.

Seeing him confidently raise his jaw, I teasingly blink my eyes.

MC: Really? It's not that smooth, after all. Your arrangement was unintentionally disrupted.

Shaw: If it's disrupted, it's disrupted. There are countless backup plans.

He takes a step forward, staring at me meaningfully.

Shaw: Hey, you said... no matter what choice I make, it can make this day interesting. I naturally can't be left out.

Those eyes, so close, glitter brightly, and my heart seems to miss a beat.

MC: It seems I did a good job setting an example~

He smiled, lightly kicked with the tip of his foot, and my skateboard was already in front of me.

Shaw: Alright, this is the only chance to skateboard in an unmanned underwater tunnel.

As he spoke, he stepped onto the skateboard, leaned forward, and drew a beautiful arc in the deep underwater world.

I also smiled and stepped onto the skateboard, catching up with him.

We freely roamed in the deserted underwater world, with strange and colorful shadows in the corner of our eyes.

Only the figure in my eyes was particularly clear.

His flamboyant clothing seemed to turn into a fish tail, leading me to swim against the world, galloping towards the distant and unreachable light.

I accelerated to keep pace with him, holding onto his hand.

MC: Shaw, today is the happiest day for me. Shaw: Don't speak too soon; the day is far from over.

After some play, Shaw took me to the end of the room.

A touch of anticipation welled up in my heart as I reached out and gently pushed open the door—

Under the azure light, this cozy glass room was covered with dream-like continuous warm light, like the only end in the deep sea.

Everything here was obviously carefully arranged. I couldn't help but imagine how the person in front of me, who was not good at such things, handled it. He must have been a bit impatient, criticizing his own choice of decorations while arranging them with an air of righteousness.

Maybe when someone passed by the door, he would immediately stop. His actions would freeze, putting his hands in his pockets, pretending nothing had happened.

These hurried yet chic figures vividly appeared in my mind, gradually merging with the person in front of me.

Thinking step by step, I walked to him, tiptoeing playfully.

MC: I didn't expect someone to have such a sense of ceremony. Setting up must not be easy, right?

Shaw: Don't underestimate me; as long as it's something I want to do, there's nothing I can't do. MC: Hmm, I certainly know that. It's just that your delicate side is not often seen.

I paused, teasingly took a step forward.

MC: It seems like I'm seeing different sides of Shaw more often now~

He bent down, a warm breath rushing towards my nose.

Shaw: Is that so? Are you sure you've seen everything clearly?

He was too close; when I instinctively tried to step back, he directly embraced my waist, blocking the "retreat."

The next moment, with a crisp snap of his fingers, a cluster of electric light burst at his fingertips, and the overhead lights instantly went out.

In the dim darkness, a nearly ethereal voice echoed in my ears.

Wooo—

Like a curtain, a shadow slowly closed from above, almost swallowing all the faint light in sight.

I stared blankly, a huge whale swimming past the skylight.

Its dorsal fin towered high, like a lonely island lost in the deep sea, wandering in the boundless ocean.

Such an unrealistic scene made me feel like I was in a woven dream.

MC: ...!

The next second, another burst of brilliant light and shadow suddenly bloomed on the wall, like fireworks filling the underwater world.

How could there be fireworks here?

I hurriedly turned around to the other floor-to-ceiling window, only to find that the incredibly dazzling "fireworks" were continuously blooming underwater.

It was not as grand and overwhelming as the previous two years. It didn't even have sound, but the brilliant colors stole all my attention.

I stared in amazement, still unable to react to how such fireworks could bloom underwater.

But for some reason, my smile became even brighter.

Shaw: Why are you smiling so foolishly?

I came to my senses, slowly blinked my eyes.

MC: I thought I had already guessed what "thing" you were hiding, but now it seems like I need to correct it. Shaw: Well, let me hear it.

My gaze swept around and finally settled back on him.

MC: At first, I thought the thing you were hiding was—"being carefree." MC: After all these days, although you rarely made plans and arrangements, every single thing took me by surprise. MC: I thought you would give me excitement, but you gave me a gentle rain in Watertown; MC: I thought you were going to take me on challenges and adventures, but you gave me the courage and determination I needed the most; MC: Even when I thought it was my turn to surprise you, you made me realize... MC: A surprise can also be created by two people at the same time.

Shaw listened quietly, with even the fireworks merging into his bright gaze.

MC: But until just now, until one unexpected moment after another, I realized... MC: The thing you hid might be simply "liking." MC: Everything happens only under the premise of liking. MC: Only then does it come in front of me.

I paused, gently hooking his finger.

MC: Shaw, am I right?

It seemed like my smile also caught his, a rare thread of joy pouring out from his eyes.

Shaw: Almost, but you didn't mention the most important part. MC: The most important? Shaw: Just like you said, this is only the "premise," and what comes after is the main topic.

In the dim light, the color hidden in his eyes became even brighter.

Shaw: What I truly hid is an "invitation." Shaw: I know very well what kind of person I am. Shaw: I never care about what is the best; I only like what interests me.

He paused, his gaze freely sketching on my face.

Shaw: So once I encounter it, I won't let go. Shaw: And I invite her to stay with me and keep it interesting all the way.

I smiled, holding his fingers a little tighter.

MC: It sounds like an invitation that cannot be refused, but...

I smiled, holding his fingers a little tighter.

MC: No matter where you go, I will be with you. MC: If you want to play in the mortal world, I'll "arm myself" and venture with you. MC: If you want rare tranquility, I'll hold your hand tightly and watch the sunrise and sunset together.

I took a deep breath and looked at him seriously.

MC: So, no matter what the future holds, I'm willing to burn my life and unleash it to the fullest with you.

He raised a carefree smile and gently pulled me closer to him.

Shaw: I remember your words. Shaw: What about my final touch?

I was taken aback.

MC: You've been secretly taking so many photos of me, and I didn't have time to prepare any finishing touch here.

Shaw: Well, in that case, I'll do it myself.

In the silent depths of the sea, a hot kiss gently pried open my lips.

Everything was so quiet, quiet enough that I could only hear the breath near my ears and the pounding of my excited heartbeat.

I slowly closed my eyes, falling into the endless sea with him.

Another year.

And there will be countless more.

—

🚐 Finale (Part 2)

[catluver3]

Wed. 9/4/2024

I wanted a placed to write down my thoughts.

I'm an overthinker, I think anyways. I'm always thinking about one thing or the other. It's frustrating most of the time if not, all the time! I really wish I could just shut off my brain and sleep life away. I think that would be way better and perhaps even fun, spending my days sleeping away and just dreaming about the silliest of things. 

But what's the next best thing? Writing down whatever pops into my mind. I want my thoughts to be heard if I'm being honest but I don't want people to know who's behind the screen. I want my thoughts to be something people can relate to, maybe not all of it but even if it's just part of one thing, that would bring me so much joy. It's like I actually have someone who sees me.

Yes, I have friends who support me and see me, are even brutally honest but not all my thoughts are kind, sweet, cute, happy. Some of my thoughts are stupid, dumb, simple, even dark as cringe as that sounds LOL! 

I want to start this off simple and say that I am aware I will be posting this on the internet, I know not everyone will be kind. I know not everyone will see the world the way I see it but I think it'll be fun to see others reactions. Maybe I'll be able to meet other's who share the same thought process as me. 

Today, I had to work. Well, I still have to work in the next three or so hours. It's a break I'm on but its a long one LOL! I woke up today with the excitement of doing my makeup, doing my hair and just doing the simple tasks I do everyday but it was hard to sleep last night. I kept thinking about how I could earn money. I mean, I'm not technically an adult yet? I don't feel like an adult at times, I feel like a kid most of the time. I cry out, lash out, sometimes I just want to tear my hair out of my head. I feel it on my head, I feel it on my shoulders despite it not reaching my shoulders. I'm weird, I know, I'm getting help for a lot of the things that I am suffering and I'm gratefully for that.

It was busy today at work, there was only one waiter and the manager had to help him out! Had me running around from the kitchen to the front! It was fun, did my exercise for today. Yesterday wasn't as busy if I'm honest... Most of the time it's not busy and I do feel sorry.. I mean, what more can I do when I have already recommended the idea of redoing the interior? New booths, new tables, new floor.. menus! I have so many ideas that could possibly bring in new customers! It's not easy to run a company or a restaurant or anything like that! So many new places open up yet so many close down... Scary! 

My thoughts will be all of the place, this is my first time writing them down either way. Not once have my thoughts been coherent. Not once have my thoughts taken into consideration my feelings. If they did, they would know I did not like them at all. 

That's all I want to write today but hopefully, I will have my thoughts gathered soon. :)