#these being implied to be the ones he found interesting hehe

[noamuth]

Haleth had long grown bored of the adults' conversation, and entertained herself by exploring their little part of the grotto, finding little 'gifts' of stones and leaves for their guest, bringing each and setting it before Dalamus as if it were a fine offering.

Leaves are: Grape vine, oak, and ash. Stones are: Gneiss, two red agates, and quartz.

[always-just-red]

I loved the Drunked Call with Sylus scenario you made! I like the way you write it and I see you accepting request hehe. Can I request about... Sylus, Zayne and Caleb reaction meeting fem!reader, dates or accidentally met (you name it) and they noticed her long hair has been attached with chewed bubblegum? some kid pulled a prank on her before and she didn't even aware of it

Aw thank you so much!! 💕 I did different pranks for each of the boys just to keep things interesting- I hope you don't mind! They're all equally silly haha, and I had SO much fun writing them. Added Xavier and Raf for good measure, too!

It's Just Not Your Day...

L&DS Boys (& Caleb!) x Reader

Summary: It's you against the kids of Linkon City, and guess what? The kids are winning.

Genre: Humour + fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, established relationship, swearing, canon pet names, reader gets a little stressed (and with some of these boys you can understand why 🙃)

| Word count: 4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Xavier ⭐

One of the perks of being a Deepspace Hunter is the way people look at you. You��re used to respect: appreciative nods and gestures, wide-eyed admiration. You’re out in Linkon almost every day, putting your life on the line for everyone in the city. You’re a hero, right?

So why is everyone looking at you so… funny?

“Xavier,” you speak in a hushed whisper, tugging at the sleeve of your partner’s uniform. “I don’t like this. Something weird is going on.”

He yawns. “What do you mean?”

Can he really not see it? Sure enough, a businessman strolls past you, his eyes locked on you as he frowns, mid-telephone call. You think he even stumbles on his words. “Just look around,” you whisper again. Someone is watching you from across the street, their head cocked.   

Xavier is already looking around. You’re on patrol; that’s sort of the point. But he trusts you, so he follows your instruction: casting his sky-blue eyes around a little more carefully. They narrow. “Sorry,” he says, because you’re usually on the same page, “what are you talking about exactly?”

You fold your arms impatiently. “People are looking at us, Xavier.”

“Oh, I…” he seems to hesitate, “I think they’re just looking at you.”

The words could be romantic, but you don’t get the impression they’re intended to be. He’s implying something. He’s uncertain. “What makes you say that?” you ask, hands moving to your hips.

He shifts awkwardly on his feet. “I think it’s your, you know—” his finger waggles in front of his mouth.

You don’t know. “My what?”

“Your moustache.”

“What?”

Your hand shoots to your upper lip, but you don’t feel anything out of the ordinary. Xavier is staring, though, so you reach for your phone and turn the camera on yourself.

A black, cartoon-villain moustache has been sketched onto your face.

You gape at your reflection. “H— how…?” you stutter, tracing your new feature. Then a memory of this morning flashes through your mind: how you’d fallen asleep on the train to work. How there were those two schoolkids, sniggering, when you’d woken up just in time for your stop. Ugh. Really?

Wait— this morning?!

“Xavier!” you exclaim, turning to him like you’d just found his sword in your back. “Why didn’t you say something?”

It’s just gone three in the afternoon, and he’s been with you for hours. “I thought you knew,” he mumbles, rubbing his neck gingerly.

“You thought I…” You’re too bewildered, too betrayed to repeat it fully. Worst of all you feel guilty; how the hell can he look so freaking innocent? You turn back to your phone, desperately trying to rub the ink from your skin. It doesn’t budge. It doesn’t fade.

“Are you ok?” Xavier asks.

Of course you’re not ok, you feel like an idiot. Your cheeks are hot and the redness is spreading to the rest of your face as you fail to reclaim any of your dignity. “No,” you spit back, “honestly, Xavier, how could you just let me walk around like I’m some kind of—”

You glance up to discover he’s no longer listening. He’s not even here; he’s over there, talking to an old man who’s sat completing a sudoku. Great. Wonderful. Why not? At least one of you is making a good impression on the citizens of Linkon City.

With your eyes close to watering, you have one last, futile attempt at wiping the moustache from your upper lip. It’s not working. Gods, you’re gonna be stuck like this, aren’t you?

Someone taps you on the shoulder, and you look up to see Xavier, back at your side. He smiles reassuringly, sporting a drawn-on moustache of his own. The ends of it are curled even more theatrically than yours.

“Xavier…” you half-laugh in surprise, your eyes watering even more. “Why would you—? Now we both look stupid.”

“I look stupid,” he corrects, running a thumb over your wet cheek. “You look really pretty, moustache or not.”

Zayne ❄

“What… happened?”

You sit across from Zayne on a picturesque park bench, like something from a postcard: blue sky stretched above, wildflowers sprouting from the grass below. Birds are singing, butterflies are flittering about, and even the doctor looks perfect— unmarred by the first half of his work day, no matter how stressful it’s been.

It’s a fairy tale you covet: a little reunion with the man you love, on the odd occasion where your lunchbreaks match up and he isn’t drowning in paperwork. And it would be a fairy tale, if it wasn’t for you. You— your uniform soaked and your hair dripping wet. The wooden bench has gone damp beneath you; you’ve literally only just sat down.

“Gee, I don’t know, Zayne,” you hiss, face almost buried in your phone, “what do you think?”

Not too far away from you, some kids are locked in a water-gun battle, their shrieks of laughter loud and infuriating. Zayne glances between you and them, making his deductions. “Why—” he starts.

“Doesn’t matter,” you sniff, wiping your forehead with the back of your sleeve. “They messed with the wrong person, and we’re gonna make sure they know it.”

“We’re going to?”  

“Yeah. Me and you. That a problem?”

You shoot him a glare that sends a shiver down even his spine. “No,” he answers quickly— a survival instinct, uncharacteristically submissive— but his composure returns as you turn back to your phone. “Haven’t you got—”

Another dark look.

“Haven’t we got better things to do than start a war with some children in the park?”

“Not really. Justice is justice.” You shrug before pointing a finger at yourself. “Deepspace hunter.” Then at him. “Cardiac surgeon. Precision is kind of our thing, right? They really don’t stand a chance.” You’re laughing, now: “Gods, I almost feel sorry for them.”

Zayne has been watching your descent into madness with a calmness that does him credit. When he interrupts, it’s gentle. “I don’t think—”

Too gentle; you don’t hear him. “Pick your poison, Dr. Zayne!” Your phone is angled at him to reveal the all-too accessible armoury of an online store. “You’ve got your standard water pistols. Your water blasters.” You’re scrolling and indicating his choices as though you’re the salesman. “This one has two options, single shot or power shot, and— ooh! Look at this one! The AquaJet3000!”

With a soft laugh, Zayne pushes your phone out of his face. He would buy anything you’re selling, although— having seen the prices on your screen— he knows he’d be bankrupt within a week. “Linkon City is fortunate to have you defending it, and whilst I would be honoured, as always, to fight at your side, I was hoping we could… relax. You’re on a break, remember?”

You pout as he peels a wet strand of hair from your cheek. “Justice doesn’t take breaks.”

“Well, justice is going to have to on this occasion, because I said so.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he chuckles. “Besides, you shouldn’t fight fire with fire, or water with water. A lot of people look up to you, you know. Me included. So, set a better example. Save violence for the Wanderers.”  

It ought to be patronising: him, lecturing you on right and wrong when you’ve already added three types of water-gun to your virtual cart. He’s always so righteous. So collected. So moral. You want to be mad at him, but how can you be when he’s looking at you like that? Like he thinks the world of you, even when you’re plotting revenge against ten-year-olds.

You have a point to make, so you fold your arms and turn your back on him, even though he’s making your heart feel so frustratingly warm and fuzzy.

“I have something for you,” he says quietly.

To hell with the point. “What is it?” you ask, spinning eagerly around.

He smiles as he retrieves something he’d concealed behind him. It’s a small-ish box, pale pink, with patterns printed to emulate white lace. There’s a logo in the centre and you recognise it at once. “No way,” you enthuse, “that new bakery finally opened?”

You’ve both been waiting for months. “I couldn’t resist when I saw it,” he confirms, lifting the lid. Inside sit two unbelievably pretty cupcakes, buttercream icing spiralled high and adorned with sprinkles of gold leaf. Zayne plucks one from the box. “Perhaps—” he offers it to you— “perhaps this can make you feel better? Without us needing to, well… attack children.”

You giggle; it does sound pretty stupid when he puts it like that. “Thanks, Zayne,” you grin, reaching out for your reward. You’re glad one of you is vaguely sensible— those water-guns were expensive.

The cake is an inch from your fingers when a jet of water sends it flying from Zayne’s hand. It lands at your feet with an unceremonious splat, and from somewhere behind you, laughter roars.

The doctor blinks down at it in disbelief, his hand still hovering beside yours. He grieves for a long moment, then looks to you solemnly like you’re a colleague and he’s about to ask for a scalpel:

“The AquaJet3000,” he says.  

Rafayel 🎨

“Rafayel, call me stupid one more time, and I’ll—”

You’ll… you’ll… what? He’s looking back at you with wide eyes, his hands frozen when they had just a moment ago been drying the plate you’d handed him. He has some nerve, pretending he’s the victim when he’s spent the entire evening insulting you. This is supposed to be a wholesome moment of domesticity— doing the dishes together before he has to disappear to a late-night gala— so why is he ruining it? Ever since you got home, it’s been: so how was your day, stupid? Hey, stupid, want a hand washing up?

He said he was fine with you sitting out the gala tonight, but maybe he’s not.

“I’ll do this,” you finish, lifting a palmful of suds from the sink and raising them to your lips, ready to blow.

“Puh-lease, you bought me this suit. You really think I can’t tell when you’re bluff— hey, wait! Stop!”

You do blow the bubbles at him, and he recoils, holding the plate and dishcloth up to defend himself. He blocks some of them, but not all of them. “Honestly, Raf, if you’re not ok with me skipping out on tonight then you can just say so.”  

He puts the plate gently aside. “I mean, of course I’m sad you’re not coming,” he thinks aloud as he sets about sweeping bubbles from his suit, “but I’m ok with it, really. You’ve had, like, a crazy week at work. You deserve a quiet night in.”

Compassion? Really? After you just—? Ugh. “So why were you being so mean, then?” you sigh, taking the cloth from him and dabbing away the bubbles he’s missed.

“Mean?”

“You’ve called me ‘stupid’ like fifty times in the span of, what— three hours?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs innocently. “Because you told me to.”

Huh? You stop what you’re doing. “Since when did I—”

He reaches over your shoulder and you feel fingers on your back. “See?” he answers, bringing a piece of paper in front of you. It looks like it’s been torn hastily from a notebook, and it says, in bold, capital letters: ‘CALL ME STUPID!!’

You take the note from Rafayel sheepishly, your lips parted in surprise. How did it—? Wait. “Those kids!” you exclaim, thinking back on your walk home from work. “Oh I knew they were spouting bullshit when they said they saw a Wanderer!”

Your dish-washing companion doesn’t seem impressed by your lightbulb moment. He’s watching you, confusion etched across his face, but you can see right through it. “Rafayel!” you slap a soapy hand to his chest, “you had to call me stupid that many times before telling me?”

“I thought you wrote it. Pet names can be weird sometimes— I don’t know what you’re into.”

He’s still acting. Still lying. Fine, two can play at that game.  

You fall deathly silent, turning back to the sink to retrieve the bowl you’d dropped in there the last time he’d called you your new ‘pet name’. “I guess it suits me,” you mumble, half to yourself.

“What d’you mean, cutie?”

He can call you cutie as many times as he wants; you’re out for blood. You give the bowl another once-over with a sponge. “Some hunter I am. Can’t even tell when some kids are messing with me.”

Rafayel frowns. “Hey, it’s been a long week, yeah? You’re just tired.”

“Tired,” you echo, and you drop the bowl back into the water with a dramatic plop. “Tired? No. I’m exhausted. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I work, there’s always… something. To make me feel like an idiot. To make me feel… stupid.”

“Hey,” Rafayel tries again, and his voice is fraught with worry. “Don’t say stuff like that. You’re not stupid. I’m stupid. I’m supposed to make you feel better and instead I was just screwing around. I’m sorry, ok? Don’t be sad. Please?”

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, resting his chin on the top of your head. You don’t give in, not at first, but then you hug him back. “Thanks, Raf. I’m ok— really.” You hear his phone buzz from where he’s left it on the counter. “You should go. Thomas will kill you if you’re late.”

“Nah, he needs me,” the artist chuckles. “You get first dibs, though. You sure you don’t want me to stay?”

“Yeah,” you laugh quietly back; your heart not quite in it. “Quiet night in, remember? Go on. Go.”

He steps away from you, though not before planting a light kiss on your cheek. “I’ll make it up to you when I get home,” he says, collecting his phone and the rest of his things. He gives you another kiss when he’s done, dodging your efforts to shoo him away. “Miss you already, cutie.”

“Go!”

And he does as he’s told this time, no matter how listlessly. It’s sweet he wants to stay and make things better, but he already has— he just doesn’t know it yet. It wasn’t the hug. It wasn’t the apology. You lean back against the counter with a smirk, savouring the view as he leaves.

It might have something to do with the note you’ve stuck on his back.

…

Rafayel retrieves the note the moment he closes the door behind him, stuffing it smugly into his pocket. He’ll have a story ready for you, by the time he gets home, about just how much you humiliated him. About how he walked around for a good hour before Thomas spotted the note and gave him a lecture about his ‘image’.

He smiles to himself; he’s a really good boyfriend.

Sylus 🩸

“You should know better than to keep me waiting, sweetie.”

Oh, great. This is just what you need.

You peek over the saddle of your motorcycle from where you’re crouched behind it. “Hey, Sylus,” you greet. The man is watching you, his arms folded. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Sorry?” he repeats, an eyebrow raised sceptically. “What— no ‘patience is a virtue, Sylus,’ no ‘oh please, Sylus, we both know you’ve nothing better to do?’”

You had disappeared behind your bike again, but you steal another glance at him. “Wow,” you marvel, “is this what you did before we met? Have arguments with yourself?”

“More or less,” he smiles dryly, then shrugs: “I’m not bad, as far as sparring partners go. You of all people can vouch for that. Besides, what were my other options? Mephisto?” He laughs. “Luke and Kieran?” He laughs harder.

“I’d rate Mephisto above you,” you add distractedly, no longer looking at him.

“Is that right?” he purrs, and it’s very obvious he doesn’t believe you.

He sounds close— too close— so you stand, re-entering his eyeline so he doesn’t come closer. Gods, this is embarrassing. Those stupid kids; he’s gonna have a field day if he finds out. “Yeah.” You wipe your hands slowly with a cloth, disguising the fact that your mind is scrambling. “The things that bird comes up with, just… scathing, honestly. Emotionally devastating.”

“Oh really?” Sylus tuts. “That’s awful. I can’t imagine where he gets it from.”

You smile back at him, resting your hands on your hips. You do feel bad, actually; you’d completely forgotten you were supposed to meet him this morning for breakfast before work. He’d received no texts to cancel. No calls. How long was he waiting at that sweet little café you’d picked out?

Then again, this morning isn’t really going to your plan, either.

“Something wrong with your bike?” he asks, because he’s already figured out that much. “Besides the usual, I mean.”

Your smile drops. Your whole act drops. “It’s nothing, Sylus.”

“You’ve already stood me up this morning, sweetie. Are you really going to lie to me, too?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. Fine. “Some kids graffitied it, ok?”

“This piece of junk? Really?” He toes the front wheel of it, then catches onto the withering look you’re sending him. “Oh no,” he tries again, with absolutely no enthusiasm, “what a dreadful crime against such an advanced, state-of-the-art vehicle.”

Prick. You keep the label behind tight lips as he wanders around the motorcycle to join you, assessing the damage. You’re stood by a bucket of water and the litany of rags you’ve used to try to scrub it clean— each one a testament to your failure. The sight alone makes you want to burst into tears. The skin of your hands is pink. Raw.

You feel cheated; you wish you were at that café right now.

Sylus taps a finger against his cheek, eyes narrowed pensively. They’re spoiled for choice of what to look at: misspelt obscenities, a generous number of crude symbols. All in permanent marker, naturally. “An improvement, wouldn’t you say?”

“I wouldn’t say. No.”

“Art is subjective.”

“Yeah? So is your face.” Not your best effort. Sylus glances up at you, amused. “Shut up,” you dismiss proactively. “Besides, this is my work vehicle. I can’t ride around Linkon on this. It would be—”

“Too staggering a blow to your professional reputation,” he finishes like he’s bored.

“This isn’t funny, Sylus.”

He points at a particularly chaotic drawing of a penis. “It is.”

You smack his hand away. “It’s not.” Your voice wobbles, ever so slightly betraying you. This is serious; you could get in trouble. You stare down at the graffiti, despair setting in.

Keys dangle in front of your eyes. “Here. Borrow my bike.”

“You’re joking, right?” You swat at them. “You really think that’s gonna help? Me— rolling up to work on a bike that costs twice my annual salary?”

“Twice? That’s cute, kitten.”

You glare at him, any guilt you felt about standing him up long gone. “Can you just stop? Being you? For like, two seconds? Please? This is the last thing I need today, Sylus. I’m gonna be late. I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of everyone. And worst of all? I was actually looking forward to seeing you this morning. Before all of this—” you gesture dejectedly at your bike— “all of this shit happened.”

Sylus is looking back at you, his arms crossed again. He does nothing for a few, slow seconds, and it’s just long enough to make you feel like you’re overreacting. Then he leans over, running a hand across your bike, and you watch as the graffiti flakes and lifts, turning to ash under the influence of his Evol.

He brushes his hands together when he’s done, straightening with a hmph and a self-satisfied smirk. Content (more than content— thoroughly impressed with himself) he turns back to you. Your bottom lip has dropped in surprise and he chuckles, reaching a finger to lift your chin. “You can thank me later, sweetie, and I intend to spend the entire day thinking about how you might. Don’t disappoint me, hmm?”  

You’re still silent, and it takes him a moment to realise you’re bristling with something other than awe and adoration. He frowns. “Sweetie?”

The second ‘sweetie’ breaks you, and not in the way he wants. You slap his chest, hard; he doesn���t really feel it.

“Sylus! You could have done that the whole time?!”

Caleb 🍎

“Sit still, dear.”

Sit still? How are you supposed to sit still when you’re brimming with rage? Every inch of your body is tense, waiting, yearning for you to spring into action. It wants you to retaliate. It wants revenge.

“I can’t, Grandma,” you whine, crossing your arms as if to hold yourself back. You’re still fidgeting on the chair as she navigates your hair with her scissors. “This sucks. Everything sucks. The only thing that could make this worse is if—”

You hear the front door swing open, then closed. Why couldn’t you keep your mouth shut?

Sure enough, Caleb strolls into the kitchen mere moments later. “What’s happenin’ here?” he asks, dropping a bag of groceries onto the countertop.

“Nothing,” you mumble. “Grandma’s giving me a haircut, that’s all.”

“Ok. So what’s actually happening here?” he tries again. He’s known you forever, after all; he can tell when you’re lying.

You swing a foot out at his shin as he tries to step closer. Nuh-uh. No investigating. No sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. “Nothing,” you hiss again. “Gods, Caleb. What’s your problem?”

“You’re my problem, pipsqueak.” He uses his foot to push yours away. “At least Gran’s on my side—” his amethyst eyes seek her— “can you tell me what’s going on? Please? Pretty please?”

A hand breaks their eye contact. “You don’t have to answer that, Grandma.” You glare Caleb down. “The DAA has no authority here.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

Grandma sighs; she’s had far too many years of this. “You know Mr and Mrs. Lee’s children? Down the road? Well, they—”

“Grandma!” You round on her. How long did she last— all of three seconds? You bitterly regard Caleb, your voice dark with resentment: “They put gum in my hair, ok?”

“Really?”

“Yeah." He wanted the truth, didn’t he? “They lured me in with some nonsense about a Wanderer. I didn’t realise until, well, until…” You wave at your hair. “Too late.”

He considers the story, then shrugs. It’s clearly not as thrilling as he was anticipating, because he disappears from the kitchen, leaving you and Grandma in peace once more. The silence is as uncomfortable as it is sudden. You’d expected laughter— a lot of laughter. Teasing. Maybe even a shot at how gullible you are.

You release an uneasy breath, resting your head back on the chair.

“Sit still,” Grandma repeats, nudging you, prompting you to sit up straight. “I’ve almost got it. Just one more… here!” There’s a decisive snip.

“Thanks, Grandma.” You slump again, staring up at the ceiling.

You’re not sure what you’re waiting for. Maybe for the blush of your cheeks to cool, or for a Wanderer to spring out of the floor, killing you, so you can be dead and not so embarrassed. You hear heavy footsteps— Caleb returning— and you really wish the Wanderer would hurry up.

“Caleb…” Grandma’s tone is wary. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”  

You readjust your head so you can look at him. He’s clutching what must be a dozen rolls of toilet paper; they’re piled up to just below his chin, almost spilling out over his arms. “How about it, pipsqueak?” he asks as he struggles to balance them. “A little team-up between the DAA and The Association— wanna do your part in reclaiming your neighbourhood?”

Now that’s more like it. “Fuck yes! Sorry, Grandma.”

You’re really as bad as each-other. She tuts reproachfully as you leap out of your chair, and she's disappointed, but not surprised.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── WILLOW TREE

Synopsis: Years after you leave Japan, Rin Itoshi finally wins the World Cup. As he promised he would, he comes to find you afterwards. (part one here!)

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Rin x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4.1k

Content Warnings: rin is lowkey nice and therefore ooc because he’s implied to have matured (considering he’s like in his twenties atp), one reference to another fic of mine, almost as cheesy as part one, reader and her bff have to interact w a misogynist, nagi and barou mentions because they are my goats

A/N: @why2277 requested a part two for cherry tree so yk i had to deliver!! hehe this isn’t super romantic or anything because it’s rin and he’s allergic to emotions lowkey but i hope it’s fun anyways 🥹

Additional: check my pinned post to make sure i have requests open; after reading the rules, please feel free to make your own!

From the window of the apartment you were renting for your final year of university, you could see a weeping willow tree. It was lovely and old, its leaves swaying in the slightest wind, and in the sunlight, it was too benevolent to be anything but ethereal. During the warmer months, you used to spread out a blanket in the grass beneath its shade and work on your homework, but now that there was a chill creeping into the air, you could only gaze longingly at it whenever you passed and imagine what it would be like in spring, when the temperature outside was once again tolerable.

Sometimes, on particularly stormy nights, the shapes of the leaves would coalesce into something resembling a man or monster. In those times, you would wish there was a room you could run to, albeit not out of any fear — you weren’t as easy to frighten as you had once been. It was nostalgia, horrible and sickening, which made your stomach turn and your heart palpitate, longing for a particular bed, a familiar embrace, though both were on the other side of the world and had been far out of your reach for years upon years now.

“Jeez,” your best friend said as the two of you elbowed your way into getting seats at the bar. Her university’s break had started earlier than yours, so instead of going directly to your hometown, she had come to visit you first, and of course in celebration of your reunion, you both had decided to visit the most popular bar in the area. “What’s going on? Hey, dude, what’s everyone watching?”

The man she was talking about spun around in surprise, his eyes enormous at her question, like he found it impossible that she was asking such a thing. She scowled at him, waiting for him to answer; when he realized she was being serious, he scoffed.

“It’s the World Cup final,” he said, before adding, under his breath, “Fucking girls.”

“The World Cup?” you said, your interest piqued despite his less than savory addition. “Who’s playing?”

Your best friend gave you a surprised look. “Since when have you cared about soccer?”

The man gave you a measured look, his face still pinched with distaste, and then he shrugged. “Japan and Germany. Craziest shit I’ve seen in a while. Never thought the Japanese team would get so far, but they’re goddamn monsters. Germany’s in the lead for the moment, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Japan turns it around and makes a comeback victory.“

“I see,” you said, craning your neck so you could see the small TV in the corner. Your best friend nudged you in the side, and when you glanced at her out of the corner of your eye, her brow was furrowed in confusion.

“What’s the big deal?” she said. “I didn’t realize you were into sports.”

“I’m not,” you said. “I was just reminded of something when he mentioned the World Cup, that’s all.”

You wondered if he was playing, and if so, whether he, too, remembered that half-awake promise he had made you. You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. If you were any smarter, any less stubborn, you would’ve forgotten as well.

“Holy fucking shit!” the man shouted as the screen flashed in celebration of a goal.

“What?” your best friend said, enthralled, though her expression soured every time she glanced at the rude man, who the two of you were sadly dependent on for explanations.

“That was such a clean shot,” he said, eyes sparkling. “Rin Itoshi…he’s an amazing player. True, sometimes people forget that, because half of his teammates are the biggest peacocks known to mankind and hog all of the attention with their showboating, but I’d take him over Seishiro Nagi or Shoei Barou any day. Maybe he doesn’t have that flair or power, but he’s technically perfect, and that’s something none of the others can claim — not even that genius playmaker, Isagi!”

You didn’t know enough about soccer or the Japanese team to have an opinion on the rest of his claims, but you did know about Rin Itoshi, so you smiled softly and nodded. “Yeah, Rin’s pretty cool.”

Your best friend, who had finally caught up to what you were talking about, snickered. “That’s not what you used to say. I recall you hating him quite a bit.”

The man fully spun around in his barstool, glaring at you with his arms folded over his chest, his left hand gripping a beer. “On what grounds could one possibly hate Rin Itoshi? Name any player, and I’ll explain why he’s clear of them. Seriously, aren’t females supposed to like Rin? For his looks and all?”

You and your best friend exchanged glances before slowly inching away. There was no point in entertaining the man further; he was just inclined to see the worst in you two no matter what, and you would probably be better off trying to find another bar or just heading to your house for the night.

“Ah, I don’t really know any other players,” you admitted, grabbing your purse and slinging it on your shoulder. “I just happened to live with the Itoshis for a while during my first year of college.”

“What?” the man shrieked, though thankfully the music and chattering was so loud that only a couple of heads turned. “You lived in a house with Rin Itoshi?”

“Uh…” you trailed off, looking around and spotting the door at the same time as your best friend. Without even a signal, both of you took off for the exit at once, leaving the now-sputtering man behind and not slowing down until you were well down the street.

“I hate guys like that,” your best friend gasped out, leaning against the wall of a bagel shop, which was closed due to the late hour. “What a jerk.”

“Honestly,” you agreed. “At least he was kind of helpful, even if he did repeatedly insult our gender and treat us like children.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Rin Itoshi, huh? That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. Feeling nostalgic?”

“A bit,” you said. “I told you he had a crush on me, didn’t I? Or at least, I think he did. I’m not sure if he realized it himself.”

“Yup, I remember. It explained a lot more of his actions than it really should’ve,” she said. 

“Well, the truth is that the night I asked him about his feelings, he told me he didn’t have a crush on me or anything, but that after he retired from soccer for good, things might be different,” you said. This was something you hadn’t told anyone, not even her. For some reason, there had been a seriousness to the way he spoke, and at the time it had felt like a betrayal to share it with another person. Then, when you had moved back home at the end of the semester and the two of you had stopped speaking entirely, it had faded from the forefront of your mind, locked away alongside the rest of your memories from those strange few months.

“No way,” she said with a chuckle. “Did he think you’d wait for that long? Soccer players don’t retire until they’re in their thirties, right? That’s a long time to expect someone to keep you in their mind.”

“I told him as much, but as you know, I was apparently a huge distraction to his soccer career, so he couldn’t have me ruining that or whatever. Anyways, uh, he promised that once he won the World Cup, he’d come and find me,” you said. “So. I was just reminiscing a bit over that, I guess.”

“Do you think he will?” she said. You shook your head. 

“Of course not,” you said. “He’s famous now. I mean, random men in bars praise him, so he must be a celebrity, right? There’s a lot of girls he could have, and anyways, I myself wouldn’t have even thought of it if that guy hadn’t brought him and the World Cup up. Why would it be any different for Rin?”

“That’s fair,” your best friend said. “Fame changes people.”

“Right,” you said. “It’s just a cool story that I can tell at parties now. Like, did you know that famous footballer Rin Itoshi once told me I was the most annoying person he had ever met? I bet it’ll be a real winner.”

“Fascinating tale,” she said. 

“Thanks,” you said. “Like I said, it’ll be popular with the crowds for sure. Ah, provided that they believe me, of course.”

“That’s true,” she said, snorting in amusement. “It does kinda sound like you’re making it up. You were too busy arguing with him constantly, too, so you never even took any photos with him.”

“I know,” you said. “Oh, well. They can believe me or not. It did happen, so who cares what anyone else thinks?”

“Very mature,” your best friend said with a nod. “Moving on, what should we do next? That bar’s kinda out of the question.”

“Technically, I do still have class tomorrow,” you reminded her. “So maybe sleeping is a good idea?”

“Ugh, I forgot about that,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Sorry. Yeah, let’s get back. We can do more stuff once we’re home and off for the week.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said. “It looks like it’s going to rain soon, anyways, so that’s probably for the best.”

You were right — almost as soon as you entered your apartment, the earlier breezes turned to gales, and one of those storms which was not quite wintry but gray and gloomy regardless churned into existence. You and your best friend were quick to get ready, both surprisingly exhausted, and then she made herself comfortable on your couch while you settled in your bed, pulling the blankets up over your shoulders and staring out of your window, watching the bare branches of the willow thrash about desperately, like they were searching for something that they could never have.

The break was short but relaxing, and before you knew it, you were back at your apartment in school, although you didn’t have your best friend’s company this time. You settled back into your typical routine, and within a few days, your life was once again mundane and usual. Any thoughts of the past or of excitement vanished in the haze of working and studying, and indeed it sometimes felt like you were more of a zombie trudging through life until the winter next became alive instead of dull.

Two weeks after you returned to university, you were walking home in the evening after a study group meeting in the library, humming to yourself and texting one of your friends about a homework assignment, when you became acutely aware of footsteps mirroring your own. You tested it out, first slowing and then speeding up your pace, but no matter what you did, they matched you so eerily that you became genuinely worried.

Swallowing, you sped up again, hoping you could, in some way, outrun this pursuer which you had picked up. When the pat-pat of sneakers on concrete behind you sped up as well, you gasped and then broke into a run. This wasn’t just the beginning of every horror movie but also of many true-crime documentaries. A girl. A dark evening. A mysterious stalker. Were you going to be murdered or something?

“You’re painfully slow,” your would-be assailant said, keeping up with your full sprint and not even sounding winded. “Anyways, why are we running? Did you take up jogging once you left Japan or something?”

You skidded to a stop, turning to see a familiar figure a few steps behind you. When he noticed you had stopped, he did as well, and though he tried to fight it, a tiny smile threatened to bloom on his face when he noticed your awed expression.

He was wearing a pair of loose joggers and an oversized sweatshirt, which wasn’t his typical sense of style but suited him, as everything did; additionally, despite the late hour, there was a pair of sunglasses pushed up into his hair, which shone in the light of the street lamp you both stood under. His hands were shoved in his pockets, though he raised his right to wave at you shyly, the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks pink — whether from the biting cold or something else, you could not tell.

“Rin?” you said. He nodded. “Rin, what are you—?”

You broke off in disbelief, unable to even move. In your wildest dreams, when you pictured reuniting with him, you had imagined something more romantic. Perhaps one of you would pick the other up from the airport, and you’d dash towards him and leap into his arms and he’d spin you about and — well, now that you thought about it more, that was a little unrealistic. Rin had never been that kind of person. The distance between you two had made your heart grow fonder, and time had formed a rosy film over your memories, but Rin as you had truly known him had always been standoffish and awkward.

“We won the World Cup,” he said. “No. I won it.”

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, I — I saw you score.”

His stare was arresting, his eyes the same brilliant shade as a writhing sea, framed by dark lashes which fluttered as nervously as a wasp’s wings. For a second, you thought he must be waiting for you to say something else, but you dismissed the thought in turn. What else would you even say?

After a second, he exhaled, his breath forming crystals in the air. “Yeah. Well, uh, I’m sure you’ve forgotten by now, but I told you, didn’t I? That once I won the World Cup, I’d find you?”

“I didn’t forget,” you said, swallowing. “I thought you might’ve, though.”

“I wouldn’t,” he said. “I’m mad at you, so of course I needed to see you again.”

“Mad at me?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “I was so sure it would be better once you left, but it got worse. I thought of you even more. It was awful.”

“Didn’t seem to impact your soccer career any,” you pointed out.

“Maybe it did. Maybe I’d be even better if it weren’t for you,” he said. You waited for him to laugh. He didn’t, but there was mirth shimmering in his irises, which was close enough, so you allowed yourself to shake your head in amusement.

“I guess we’ll never know,” you said.

“Guess not,” he said.

“How did you even do it?” you said. “Find me, I mean.”

“I knew which university you went to,” he said.

“That’s it?” you said. “It’s not like this is a small school.”

“Believe me, I know,” he said. “I’ve been here since last Thursday.”

“Seriously?” you said.

“Seriously,” he affirmed. “I’ve been spending every day on campus looking for you. It took me a while, but I didn’t want to give up until I saw you again.”

“You did all of that and nobody recognized you?” you said.

“One of my teammates hates the media so much that he’s perfected the art of disguising himself in public. I figured that if it works for him, despite him being built like a white-haired telephone pole, it would probably do fine for my purposes,” he said.

“I see,” you said. “I guess that’s what’s the deal with the clothes.”

“Exactly,” he said.

“Well,” you said. “I don’t…I mean, I don’t really know what to say. I never thought I’d actually see you again, so this is kind of a lot. I’m sorry.”

“Did you want to?” he said.

“Huh?” you said.

“Did you want to see me again?” he said, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Did you ever think about me?”

“Let’s walk back to my apartment,” you said instead of answering the question. “I want to show you something.”

“Okay,” he said, walking at your side obligingly, though he kept a careful distance between you both. You did not try to close it, not yet. It didn’t feel right.

“By the way, why did you follow me like a creep?” you said as you changed course towards your apartment complex. “You should’ve just said hi like a normal person instead of scaring me.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I just didn’t want to say anything.”

“Didn’t want to?” you said.

“Couldn’t,” he amended. “I didn’t realize how hard it would be until I saw you again. I had so many things I needed to tell you, and as soon as you were in front of me, I forgot them all.”

“That’s a shame,” you said. “If you remember any, let me know.”

He mulled this over for a moment before clearing his throat. “My brother’s getting married soon.”

“Really? How exciting,” you said. You had never met Sae Itoshi, so the news didn’t strike you one way or another, but you were just glad to hear Rin’s voice again, so you would’ve listened to him talking about anything and been happy about it.

“Yeah, it’s this girl he met while they were both on vacation by the beach in Spain,” he said. “She accidentally tackled him while trying to get her sandwich back from a seagull.”

“That’s a fun story,” you said. “Imagine your kids ask you how you met their mother and you get to tell them that.”

“There’s more to it, surprisingly,” he said. “But anyways, yeah, she’s nice. I don’t mind her that much.”

“Given that she’s going to be a part of your family, it’s good that you get along with her,” you said.

“Mhm,” he said. “Can you come?”

“To the wedding? Er, I don’t think I’m invited,” you said.

“I’m inviting you,” he said, his throat bobbing as he averted his gaze. “I want you to come. With me.”

“Oh,” you said. His eyes widened slightly.

“Am I — are you — um, Y/N. You don’t have a boyfriend or anything, right?” he said.

The two of you had reached the willow tree. You paused, gazing up at it. The branches no longer had their leaves, and it seemed more depressing and spindly instead of lush and inviting, as it did in the summer months. Rin stopped next to you, and you shifted so that there was only a hair’s breadth between your arm and his.

“When it rains really hard, this tree looks like a creature from one of those horror movies you used to watch,” you said. “It doesn’t scare me, not hardly, but I always wish I could run to you anyways. I guess there’s your answer. Every time there was a storm, I thought of you. Every time I saw this tree, I thought of you. Every time someone mentioned owls or soccer or scary films, I thought of you. So, yes. Sometimes, occasionally — or perhaps frequently, depending on how you see it — I did think of you. I did want to see you again.”

“What about the second question?” he said.

“A lot of people have tried,” you said. “Guys have asked me out. Friends have set me up and convinced me to go on blind dates. It never really works out, though. In the back of my mind, I’ve always been waiting for someone else. For a major jerk, in fact. The biggest jerk on the planet. Everyone probably thinks I’m crazy. It’s a ridiculous thing to say aloud, and even more ridiculous to actually do it, but here I am.”

“How long will you keep waiting for him?” he said.

“A while,” you said. “At least until I can meet someone as annoying as he is. I’ve been bored without him, and I don’t take well to boredom.”

Rin’s features were settled in a contemplative mask, his brows drawn together and his head tilted slightly. It was your chance to watch him; you had nothing more to say, so you opted for silence. Things like confessions and feelings weren’t really your style, nor were they his, but you hoped that he would understand what you had meant regardless. Just this once. Even if he never did again, this once, you wanted him to understand you.

“Thank you,” he said, and then: “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” you said.

“For making you wait. For letting you be bored,” he said. “Although it’s not my fault. I could’ve won the World Cup the year you left if it had happened then, and then we would’ve met again way sooner.”

“It’s okay. Listen, Rin, I want to — no, I have to ask you something,” you said, and then you took a deep breath to steady yourself. “Come summer, will I still be able to see you? Can I show you this tree once it has its leaves, or is this the last time?”

The last time. Was this reunion like a fleeting dream? Would it be better or worse when you were split apart from him anew? How much longer could you bear to keep waiting for him? You had no idea, but it seemed impossible, the thought of being apart from him once more.

“If you come home with me, you can always see me,” he said. “There’s another tree there. One that you’ll remember. Is that close enough?”

“What about my job and my life here?” you said, taken aback at the bold offer, which felt a little out of the blue, although maybe it shouldn’t have. “I’ll graduate this year, and then I’ll start working. How can I leave all of that behind?”

“You don’t have to leave it behind forever. Not if you don’t want to,” he said. “I’d never make you do that. But Sae’s — the wedding, it’s in the spring. The cherry tree will have flowers then. I can show it to you. You never saw it like that, I don’t think, but you’ll like it. I’m sure you will.”

A ghostly wind whistled through the willow tree’s branches, and the street lamp illuminating Rin’s face flickered. Part of you had never really believed you’d look upon that face again, no matter how much you had wanted to. His features were different from the last time you had seen him, a little sharper, more weathered, the once-permanent scowl replaced with a blank, neutral expression as he waited for you to respond, but it was still his face before you.

“It’ll be warm there, won’t it?” you said. “I’m always cold here.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’ll be warm. Are you cold right now?”

You nodded. He made to shrug off his sweatshirt, but you shook your head, catching his arm and then placing it around your shoulders. He cocked his head at you, and then, all at once, recognition flashed in his eyes. Wrapping the other arm around you of his own volition, he pulled you into his chest carefully, unsurely, his heart pounding — you knew because you could hear it, could feel it, the way it beat against his sternum like a battle-cry.

“I miss it,” you said. “I was only there for one semester, but I still miss it.”

It, or him? Maybe both. Definitely both.

“You don’t have to anymore,” he said. You wondered if he meant his home, which in a way was also your home, or if he was talking about himself. “It’s yours. It’ll always be yours. Our roles are reversed now, I guess.”

“Reversed?” you said. You must’ve sounded like an idiot or an echo, dumbly repeating everything he said without comprehension. 

“I’ll be the one waiting,” he said. “And if you want…you can come and find me. I won’t make it hard. I’ll be where I always have been.”

“Do you think you can wait as long as I did?” you said.

“If I have to,” he said. “Will you make me?”

“No,” you said. “No, I won’t. You only have to wait until the spring. Then I’ll be there, and I don’t think — to tell you the truth, I don’t think I’ll be able to leave once I am.”

“Is it wrong if I say good?” he said.

“Maybe,” you said. His body was likely akin to a furnace or something, you thought, for curiously, in his embrace, you no longer felt frigid, though it had only gotten cooler and cooler out. “But even if it is, I won’t be the one to judge you for it.”

“Good,” he muttered breathlessly. “Good.”

You smiled broadly this time, broadly and fully, though he couldn’t see you do it — or maybe it was because of that fact that you could beam like this, as brightly as if you had won the lottery. Then again, you supposed that to you if no one else, you had. After all, somehow, despite all odds, Rin had found you again, and this time, he wouldn’t leave. Never again would he leave, not entirely, and if he did ever go, it would only be to a place where he could wait for you longer.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, Rin. It’s good.”

[dotster001]

i was gonna make this a comment but smthn told me this was gonna be long.

SORRY FOR THE LONG-NESS OF THIS ASK

BUT DOT- THINK ABOUT YAN DILF JADE.

who knows if his ex wife was murdered or not, oh well! 🤭 best not to dwell on it because it makes the twins sad :(

see? (🧍🏻🧍🏻)

…anyways

but here me out (this is me going coco bananas. full on psycho mode) maybe the first time he saw you was at a RANDOM party that a friend of yours hosted.

blah blah mutual friend of a friend and that long friend family tree stuff

but maybe you slithered away to the dog, or were tasked with helping a baby (more like someone threw the baby at you in order to dance)

or you’re with the other room for the children that the party provides (this is like a really rich friend. like mega mansion. crazy rich asians kinda thing)

but ugh he’s there with his dreadful beautiful wife and his wonderful children. and his wife is already leaving to grab a drink and he thinks their children shouldn’t get a glimpse at whatever tom-foolery parties like these will lead to.

so in they go! (maybe this was years ago when they’re toddlers)

but then he sees you swarmed with babies. the nanny took a break and left you in charge and you’re fighting back babies with one of those roll-pop lawn mowers-

ARGHHH ONE JUST SPAT ON THE END OF YOUR RENTAL DRESS DAMNIT.

jade is utterly beside himself with laughter, amusement, and everything of the sorts and creates flirty small talk. and oh?? what's this? his wonderful bundles of joy seem to have found a liking to you? how precious (they’re clawing and climbing you like a jungle gym) jade takes a note of that!

they don't even like their mother that much , simply tolerating her. but jade can tell that his kids got good taste!

he lowkey interviews reader (without them know oops!!) and while yes, their beauty was what drove his interest, second being their personality (you have to be attracted to someone to give them a chance!)

and the twins were the cherry on top!

and conveniently you say where you work (rookie mistake) while he tells you he’s a humble business man… don’t ask what for tho cause that’s a super family secret 🤭

but he's planning and scheming and charming his way into your life and he’s in it for the long run because eels are patient. it just sucks that jade is even more patient, like a saint if you would

^^accurate depiction of saint jade

^^and this is jade when he gets questioned for his wife’s uh oh 🤷🏻🤷🏻

maybe she drank too much at a party and fell over the side.

maybe there was a targeted hit meant for jade but they got the wrong one.

maybe a classic batman scenario but jade survived and is throughly traumatized (same with his kids, i mean look at them!!🧍🏻🧍🏻 they’re so torn up that it just breaks his heart😿)

but he’s making chance encounters rather… commonly. (he had reader stalked for a good few years as he was planning everything. just to make sure he likes them& they keep it interesting.)

just... some thoughts about dilf jade leech and his hell spawns hehe (when the trio visited your work they managed to leave your section alone... so it looks like you were in the eye of the hurricane)

im gonna read your other stuff about dilf jade now because AHHHH

Angry at my boss, so I decided to see if there was anything in my inbox to cheer me up. Woo hoo!

In reference to this

Cw: light Yan!, implied stalking, Jade's a freak but if you don't already know that then you aren't paying attention

I can only imagine that, after the party, since you interacted with so many kids and parents that night, they all kind of blurred together. And it's not until, after he visits your place of work, and you chat over text for a while, and you have a real date, then invites you back home for an after date drink, do you start to remember. And that's only because the twins are scamps and stayed up past their bedtimes, and they are staring at you with eyes you remember.

Obviously, you are gonna chalk it up to a coincidence. "Oh my god! You know so-and-so, right? I think I met you at a party a few years ago!" He laughs, and plays along, oh my god,.yeah what a really good coincidence.

Meanwhile, the twins share a look, because Dad has talked about you every day since Mom died, so they know he's lying. Hell, when you aren't here, they already call you mama/papa. But, they are their father's kids, so they are never going to say anything.

One date turns to two turns to three, turns to a year of dating. It's time to meet the family. You know Jade has a twin, but they've taken different paths in life.

So when Dilf Floyd Trudges up the driveway with his six adopted kids, four of whom are sprinting around the house and lawn and destroying Jade's home, two of whom are under Floyd's arms like suitcases, you're in for a culture shock.

When you first meet him, he seems incredibly grumpy. He's got salt and pepper stubble, the baggiest outfit, though you get the feeling it's designer, no matter how slouchy it is, his hair is slicked back, making the grey streaks look neat against his otherwise messy look.

He tosses the kids and yells at them to go play with their cousins, then he rudely shoves past you. Jade stops him with a hand on his shoulder that appears gentle, but if you had felt the full force of it, you'd have landed on your ass. He hissed at Floyd, through a smile, to greet his new fiance. There's a tense moment where they stare at each other, then Floyd storms over to you, and presses a ticklish kiss to your cheek, before muttering, "Welcome to the family," then storming to his room and locking himself in for the night.

The next day it's like he's a different person. He makes breakfast for you and excitedly asks you about yourself, wanting to know everything about his future sibling. Eventually he pours you a glass of what you know is Jade's most expensive wine, which he has been saving for a special occasion, and you finally get the courage to ask about the night before, and he laughs and says he was tired from the trip. Wrangling six kids on an airplane is exhausting, you know?

You decide to ask him about little Jade, and Floyd's stories of childhood charm you so much that you don't notice Jade's brooding presence.

Not that Floyd minds. Yeah, he got off to a rough start with you, but he gets why Jade likes you. And Jade only has two parentless kids, he has six. So his kids need you more than Jade's do, right?

Will the dad's eventually drag the kids into this fight? Absolutely. Those kids have Mafia parents, they have plenty of acting training. They will be pulling those heartstrings of yours 😊

[hana-no-seiiki]

WHY DON’T YOU GIVE ME A SMILE? (ACT 1)

YANDERE! BATFAM x JINX (ARCANE/LEAGUE)-ESQUE! READER

A lil’ platonic yanderes harley and joker in the mix too hehe

gender neutral reader.

cw/tw: mentally ill reader. reader has schizophrenia. reader has a massive fear of abandonment. harley and joker only feed to that. a r s o n among other crimes. gaslighting. manipulation. implied r*pe (by reader im so sorry you guys) reader is interested in all genders.

summary: meet jinx, gotham’s loudest, most explosive villain. no one knows who they really are, or if jinx is really even their name. but one thing’s for sure — they’ve got a lot of people chasing after them and their reasons aren’t so noble.

status: unedited

[ ACT TWO OUT NOW ]

Considering Jinx was inspired by Harley Quinn. You’re probably her protégé. Her darling little child with Joker.

YOUR ORIGINS:

She saw you in the aftermath of the explosion. Cold and alone. Fire roaring behind you despite the heavens pouring its heart out, as if it was desperately trying to wash your tears and pain away.

She saw your bruises and a girl a little older than you walk away.

Her heart ached for you. No child deserved to be put in that kind of position, so she stepped in and made herself known.

“ I . . . I only wanted to help . . . Don’t leave me . . . Don’t . . .

You muttered.

Joker, who came here to marvel at the chaos such an explosion would present smiles maniacally.

You. You were the one that did this.

This beautiful wreckage and an equally beautiful child.

You were practically begging to be moulded into a weapon.

You charged at them both as they got closer, and while Harley was ready to defend her man - even hurt you if she has to - they did not expect what came next.

You just, held unto Joker’s right leg.

“ She’s not my sister . . . No . . . if she was she wouldn’t leave me . . . “

You were far too emotional for his liking. But nonetheless. A boon can always be found in a curse. That is, your desire for revenge.

He takes one look at Harley before picking your small body into his arms.

“ Who cares about fools like them, little one? They don’t matter in the grand scheme of things.”

His smile never stopped widening, yet even as a kid you never saw it as creepy or unnerving. In fact, it only reminded you of the smiles you used to draw on your nail bombs.

“All we ever truly have is ourselves. “

“So, smile. Don’t let your tears bring you down.”

Moulding you into the perfect weapon was easy.

Having a psychiatrist as a partner did help a lot in your development.

All it took was a few reminders of that fateful day before you began obediently following their rules and instructions.

You were a genius and since Harley kept protesting against it. You weren’t baptized into a vat of acid like the couple was.

Now, Harley and Joker are the worst possible parents you can ask for. So unlike Arcane’s Jinx. You are way way more unhinged. Not to mention, horny and materialistic.

As you grew up, you began to take interest in intentionally hurting people just for the sake of it. Stealing things was just a normal Tuesday for you. Being successful in your endeavors for once, and having bigger stacks of cash felt exhilarating.

The women and men were amazing. Your pseudo parents being who they were, didn’t really care if you were a sexual deviant or a pervert. When your hormones started kicking in they let you do whatever you want. Even giving you some of the people he held hostage as a toy to play with. If you have the capability of getting someone pregnant/or getting pregnant yourself they wouldn’t really care about the baby but you knew them well enough to know they’d use the kid as a way to manipulate you so you were careful in that aspect anyhow.

Harley noticed that when laying with women you’d often call out your sister’s name or call them sis by itself.

Sick. Disgusting. Is what a normal mother would think after finding out such a fact.

But to her you were just growing up so quickly. She had convinced Joker to go ahead and kill your sibling a long time ago behind your back and was growing anxious with the thought of you hating her and ruining this happy family dynamic (she had in her head)!

So she starts bringing you to more heists in disguise. Always keeping a close eye on you so that if any of those stupid heroes and vigilantes get any close, and you too far. She’d know as soon as possible.

It’s safe to say you grew up pretty spoiled, but even then you were hungry for more.

You see, even if they (Harley and Joker) weren’t careful with their “parenting” approach. They were careful with keeping you hidden from the Dark Knight himself.

Not that they were scared you’d get hurt. They could always nurse you back up again. Harley actually enjoyed the times you’d gotten in the cross fire. More time to take care of you in her arms.

They were mostly scared of the Dark Knight stealing you. Afraid that he’ll take you away and turn you into a goody-two-shoes they wouldn’t recognize anymore.

So as much as you were more involved it still felt like they were babying you.

It was your situation with you family all over again

But this time, this time you’ll show them…

You weren’t weak. And it’ll do them good to remember that.

YOUR RIVALRIES:

You made your debut at around the time Tim was still Robin.

You were his very own Joker. A menace to deal with. A person that only cared for the thrill that came with hurting and killing masses.

You were terrible. Evil. A demon he had to exorcise from this world.

A demon he fell hopelessly in love with.

He didn’t know how his feelings came to be. It may have been the amount of stress and pressure he was facing coupled with having to deal with your ass every damn day whether directly or indirectly. But he found himself yearning to see you at times. Getting warm when he thought of you. He felt solace knowing that no matter how many times he’d attempt to tear you down completely, you’d still come back to face him once again.

He was so guilty of his feelings. How could he fall for someone as heinous as you? You were the worst of the worst. But somehow that made things so much more better.

You were a taboo. A vice he couldn’t have. The thought of entering such a forbidden relationship excited him just cause it was just that — forbidden , a temptation that should always stay like that.

He somehow manages to gain the self control to stay away from you for a while.

But then came Damian and he was set to replaced. Just like that.

“Wow there Timmy Boy. You look like shit.”

“J-Jinx?! Why are you here? How do you know my name?!” He asked as if he didn’t know every single detail about you himself.

“I have to know my little birdie well don’t I?”

“What kind of archnemesis would Jinx be to their little Robin if they didn’t do a lil’ research?” You spoke in a higher, cutesy voice as if you were your handgun that you’ve affectionally named Zapper.

“Right you are Zapper! I would be a terrible rival. That wouldn’t do for a hero as great as Timmy!”

He thought that all his work was all for naught. All the hours he spent trying to prove himself was gone so fast.

But you reminded him of his place in this world. Of his position as a hero. Your rival.

The warmth in your eyes when you looked at him sealed the deal. There was no coming from this. He was yours as you were his.

“Only I can hurt you like this, toots. Don’t forget that.”

Little did you know that Tim took those words to heart and never let anyone else hurt him (and stay alive).

“Big Bat can replace you but you’ll always be the Robin in my heart !” You winked at him, signaling with one of your manicured fingers for him to smile. Which ended up almost scratching your cheeks.

Tim was confused (incredibly flustered, not to mention har—), why were you so kind to him all of a sudden. He knew you were the playful type but you were usually ruthless when it came to battle. You weren’t one to play with food for too long. For you to excuse him, much less help him in such a state.

Who were you and what did you do to his Jinx?

“OW hEy! I swear if you put that there Pow-Pow— I’ll—“ Tim heard you screeching out of view.

Scratch his doubts. Yep, you were definitely still his Jinx.

The Dark Knight knew who you were from the beginning.

He had his suspicions even before you came into the scene. With your knack to tag everything with neon spray-paints.

At first he thought you were a simple thug that Joker and Harley picked up. But the way they were sheltering you made it seem otherwise.

The regret he felt knowing that you were basically a child in their filthy hands and was now far too gone to save was immense.

If only he knew. You wouldn’t be in this situation.

While he was “dead” he found himself looking into you more. About the death of your biological parents and the way your sister abandoned you to Harley and Joker.

He felt pity for your childhood and a sense of kinship. Sure the incident may have been your fault but you were a child. How could you have known your actions would have such terrifying consequences.

If only you knew him when you were younger.

If only.

He was sure you’d be one of the greatest vigilantes alive.

“I knew you were alive.”

You looked down at Batman, staring while both of you were being doused by the rain. Thunder accompanying the sound of conversation.

He takes a defensive stance.

“I’m not going to fight ya, that’s Joker’s thing. And I know he’ll grill my ass if I stole his archnemesis.”

“What a loser!”

“Hey! He took us in. We should be more grateful!”

Bruce looked at you as you talked with a new, rather large, shark shaped gun. He had memorized the names of all your “companions” by now and was oddly excited and slightly unnerved by the new one.

“So, why’d you leave? Was it . . . was it on purpose?”

“No.”

“Then come back.”

He almost dropped all his plans with the way you told him that.

“Tim needs you . . . and your other sons too or whatever.”

“Come with me.”

“You crazy, old bat? Why would I—“

“I know what it feels like to have no family. Harley doesn’t love you. Joker doesn’t love anyone.”

“Do you?”

“I do.”

“Well tough luck man. I don’t give a shit about love.”

You dropped down to his level. A thud resounds, loud enough to cut through the rainfall and thunder.

“Cause love never gave a shit about me.”

“We’ll have to refuse. Just get back to your sons, hero!”

“I’m sorry, perhaps I didn’t make it clear enough—

— I don’t think you have a choice in this matter, [Y/N].”

You like my writing? Follow my blog and maybe take a look at the fic linked below!

WHAT’S UP DANGER : Yandere Batfam x Miles Morales! Reader

[unrivalling]

Crowley's mask is a raven skull and I can't stop thinking about it

Okay, I know the “Crowley is Malleus’s father” theory is controversial and a lot of us are tired of hearing about it (and I don’t fully buy it myself).

But...there's one detail I can't stop thinking about. And it has to do with Crowley's mask not just being a corvid mask, but a corvid skull mask.

Hear me out.

Book 7 spoilers ahead.

Skull Wrapping

So...I love paleontology. No degree, just a fan. And one trend in paleoart that has fallen out of fashion and been criticized is something called “skull wrapping”, where recreations don’t take soft tissue into account.

Here's an example of modern animals drawn the way some paleoartists draw dinosaurs.

(Here's a reddit thread with people talking about it. Art by C.M. Koseman.)

All this to say, skull wrapping and the presence of soft tissue in art is something I'm always looking for.

Crowley's Mask

I didn't think much about it with Crowley's mask originally, because he WAS only character who wore a mask like this, but now we have something to compare it to.

There’s some kind of trend or historic in Briar Valley (possibly only among the military, since Maleanor is not masked) to wear animal masks representing their clans.

But when we saw the other Briar Valley masks, I found myself wondering why they look so different from Crowley's.

Then I realized it’s because the Briar Valley bird fae masks have implied soft tissue, but Crowley’s doesn’t.

In the above example, you can see it particularly around the nares, which are completely exposed, but also distinct soft tissue around the eyes and cheeks, whereas Crowley’s is completely exposed.

(Crow from Wikipedia and corvid skull from Wikipedia commons)

So, from this we can possibly infer that Crowley is from Briar Valley and is from a clan of bird fae (specifically crows or ravens, though to my knowledge the distinction does not exist in JPN and the word for both is karasu / カラス / 烏), but also there's a clear direct association with death.

Raverne

Now...the only other character we know that this may be true for is Revan/Raverne, Malleus’s father, who went missing on a diplomatic mission during the human incursion and is presumed dead.

I’m admittedly not a huge fan of “these characters have some superficial similarities and therefore must be related”. There is probably more than one bird fae in the world. But that Crowley is implied to be a bird fae and also "dead" (metaphorically or otherwise) is just really. interesting.

Theories

I don’t think he’s going to be Malleus’s father. Personally I’m betting on uncle, OR my personal fave theory that I've seen here on tumblr (can’t remember from who 🙏) is that Raverne is dead and Crowley is the phantom who possessed him during overblot, becoming a new being that is neither the phantom nor Raverne.

In Conclusion

Even if there is no Raverne connection, I do think it's cool that Dire Crowley is set apart from other fae* we've seen by being associated with death at the school where everyone arrives by stepping out of coffins for their symbolic rebirths RIP (*Disclaimer that hehe may not even be fae, but unless there's another fantasy species we haven't seen yet, I feel like this is a fair enough conclusion on its own.)

[fleetingcalypso]

I am very sorry to bother you, but a very sweet prompt fleeted into my mind as I prepared myself to come out to my parents, and I'd thought I'd share it in the sheer hope you'd read it, enjoy the thought and perhaps write something based on it, if you're comfortable.

Just imagine, you're very close to Sirius Black (you can choose to which degree, platonically, romantically, interested but not together yet, preferably the last because hehe). You've known for a while you were transgender (FtM) but never had the strength to come out, fearing rejection and alienation from the friend group. Just a sweet little comfort fic because I'm anxious as fuck.

≋ What you're doing is extremely brave, I'm so very proud of you. I wish you the best, friend. Know that whatever goes down, you'll never be judged or rejected here. I'll pray your coming out will be met with love and affection.

≋ Sirius Black x TransMasc!Reader ≋

≋ Word Count: 2285 words.

≋TW: Dysphoria, Misgendering (not done by Sirius)

Hogwarts seemed intimidating, more than anything. Eleven year old me, sitting in that train, chewing my nails and staring out at the moving scenery, had not the slightest idea that finding friends would be as easy as breathing. At least it is when four troublemakers decide to adopt you into their friend group, barely a week after classes started.

‘The marauders’ they’d call themselves, not so slowly becoming every professor’s nightmare.

They each had something that made them so intriguing. The four of them were attached at the hip, and with me being dragged into their pranks and escapades things only got more entertaining. Even as my house was far away from the castle we studied at, every day I got to spend with them made it feel like I was home, with their jokes and their being able to light up a dull moment with only a couple of words. James, Sirius, Remus and Peter welcomed me in, as one of them.

In the midst of my lowest moments I wondered, would they still accept me if I let my walls down? I sprinkled seeds of the truth here and there: I cut my hair short, I opted for pants instead of the usual skirt, I was at my happiest during winter - when finally I could show off the baggiest of sweaters to conceal the appendages on my chest. It’s not purely a physical discomfort, though. It’s in the little things, small seemingly meaningless moments that no one appears to notice but me. 

People perceive me differently based on how I move even the tiniest of muscles, it is painfully obvious. The boys have never done it, not once, they’ve always treated me as one of them. Never has one of them implied me being weaker, more delicate or called me ‘sweetheart’ in that obnoxious way lots of people do when they’re trying to put me back in my place.

 My head constantly feels underwater with the knowledge that if I were to sit wrong I’d be labeled as a girl, if I walk in a specific way it’ll put attention on my hips, even just standing, unmoving, gives me anxiety. The most insignificant of movements could shoot down the image of me that I want people to see whenever they lay eyes on me.

I feared the worst each time I let my mind tug me into a daydream. Deep down I knew, they’d never turn their back on a friend, but fear nipped at my heels every day. Not only was I hiding who I was from them, but I was lying to their faces about it as well. What hurt me the most, though, was not being able to admit my identity to Sirius.

Sirius Orion Black, he’s been the one that made sure I felt safe around him and the lads. More than once I caught myself being entranced by his words as he let the rest of us know what a nightmare his family life was. He was the total opposite of what his mother wanted him to be, yet that didn’t stop him from being his pure unfiltered self, if anything he enhanced each trait she found disgusting. Sirius wasn’t scared to be his true self, even if it meant going against his blood.

It sparked something in me. My heart has been his, for a long time now.

Sirius, with his raven locks, smooth skin and ever present smirk on his face is the one and only subject of all my dreams. He constantly looks as though he knows everyone’s secrets. The thought makes my stomach twist. When I awake, with the moon still high up in the sky, I almost turn to the pillow beside me, to take a peek at him, they’re that realistic. 

At any rate, if there’s someone that I feel should be the one to know the true me, it is him. I contemplated asking all four of them to meet me, but I don’t think I could rip the bandaid that easily. I want to talk to the one who knows -somewhat- how it feels to have expectations placed on oneself, the one who knows that being someone you’re not is more painful than the Crucio curse itself. Of course our situations are oceans apart: he doesn’t deal with having the need to hide certain parts of my body, or with the numerous wailing moments caused by being born in the wrong body, but I think he'd be the first one to accept me.

I had a whole speech prepared, a letter pages and pages long that I was going to give him, so he could read it without my presence, but as I hear his footsteps approaching me, I can imagine him already. His wand resting behind his ear and tie loosened, hands comfortably and nonchalantly situated in the pockets of his jeans with his luscious hair possibly styled into a bun.

“You’ve been rather gloomy lately, mate.” His foot taps my leg, before he lowers himself to sit next to me. We’ve always enjoyed sitting in the astronomy tower together, in the short span of time between a prank or two. Here, we don’t have to worry about being something else, we’re just humans admiring the stars. In hindsight, I should have figured out he knew I’d be hiding out here, as for my ‘being gloomy’, well, I thought I’d done a good job pretending. Apparently not. It makes me wonder if he’s seen through all of my white lies.

“You know how it is, life is hard.” I turn to him, expecting a silly joke like ‘Life is hard, but I’m harder’, something stupid to cheer me up as he usually does, but said joke never makes it into reality. He’s not even smiling, his lip is caught between his teeth in a clearly troubled look, it doesn’t suit him. No trace of a bun holding his luscious hair in place, what a shame.

“Are you okay though?” He whispers, even if we are the only beating hearts in the room and the sincerity in his voice almost brings me to tears. “I mean it when I say you haven’t been yourself lately.” I haven’t fully been myself for ages, but he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. I’ve been everything but myself. Oh, how many times have I hoped I could just rip my chest apart and rid myself of this body that doesn’t belong to me, before emerging from the depth of it as the man I know I am.

My tongue is threatening me to run faster than my mind. ‘I’m a man’ I want to shout, ‘I have always been a man, from the moment I was born, and I hope you can accept me for what I am.’ It sounds so easy in my head, which is why I hate it more than anything when my throat dries up as soon as I part my lips. His gaze falls to them, but it comes back up to meet my eyes when only a sigh escapes from them.

In being faced with my hesitation he speaks again, a subtle comforting smile on his face, “Hey, I’m not holding you hostage. You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t feel like it.” His elbow meeting my side in a gentle shove sends my heart ablaze, it is just a simple touch, not even skin on skin, yet it makes my entire body warm up.

“If one day you woke up and saw that you were trapped in a cage, what would you do?” I tentatively ask, testing the waters of the ocean I know I am going to dive in today. My question causes a corner of his lips to tilt upwards, “I’d pick the lock,” He says, as if the solution would be that easy. I foolishly hope it was.

“What if there is no lock to pick? What if you could escape it, but you’d have to face one of the biggest fears in your life in order to do so?” 

His answer, before I can even finish the last syllable, “I’d do it. If it means freedom, I’d do anything. You know it.” His hand rests on my shoulder, I can feel his thumb pressing into my muscles, more than anything I want to hug him and confess my reality with my face hidden in his neck. But I don’t. I’m tired of hiding. My life has turned into a twisted version of hide and seek, where I’m both the seeker and the one hiding. I seek a day where I won’t have to hold back anymore, a day where I’ll be able to use a masculine pronoun without expecting weird looks towards me, yet I hide away in the darkness, afraid of the future, afraid of losing everything I’ve built so far. 

I’ve built mansions, cathedrals, palaces with precarious foundations and I think the time has come to fix that. 

“What’s with all the philosophical talk today? Cages and fears and whatnot. Is it a new idea for a prank? Because if it is you need to hear one James had just a while ago-”

“I’ve been lying to you, Sirius.” I confess with the taste of bile in the back of my throat. The letter I had prepared and read so many times I’d memorized it sits deep in the pockets of my pants, I’m running on no script and no idea of where this conversation will bring us. I have no patience to hear what he might say, so I don’t even stop to breathe before I speak again.

“I’ve been lying to all of you, even to myself at times. I want to preface this by saying that I understand if this is confusing to you, or if you don’t understand where this is coming from but I am not the girl you boys befriended all those years ago. I’ve never been a girl, not once, but this doesn’t mean I’ve been faking to be your friend. I’m still the friend that helped you get out of detention, I’m still the friend that sent professors down the wrong hallway when they would ask for you mid prank preparation, I’m still the friend that would do your essays for you in exchange for part of your food at lunch. I’m still your friend, just not the friend you thought you had.” The words flow out like a river overflowing, it is only as I say the last word that I notice the tears rolling down my cheeks, “I’m not a girl,” I say again, my voice cracking in a sob, “I’m a guy.” 

The grip he had on my shoulder tightens for a moment before he lets out the loudest sigh of relief I’ve ever heard, “By Merlin’s beard, you scared me half to death there.” His other hand rests on his chest, most likely trying to relax his beating heart that, if it’s pounding half the speed of mine, then it must be fighting tooth and nail to escape his ribcage. Something halfway through another sigh and a chuckle comes from him as his head shakes, “So, you’re a bloke, huh? Is that what you’re telling me?” 

I nod, swallowing the gulp stuck in my throat, I can’t force myself to make a sound. The arm wrapping itself around my shoulder and pulling me into Sirius takes me by surprise, “You were always one of the lads, mate.” He says, grinning ear to ear, “Thank you for telling me. I can’t imagine this was easy for you…” The weight on my back does not abandon me completely, it is only the tiniest amount lighter. The first step is taken, there is no going back, little by little he’ll be able to uncover all of me. One small step at a time. Now it is no time to let him know how the only things I smelled while brewing amortentia was his cologne, butterbeer and the occasional cigarette. 

I don’t know what else to say, it feels like I just lept from a flying broom awaiting contact with the ground, but the crash never comes, my bones never break and no absurd pain breaks through me. “Thank you for still being here.” I choke out. His thumb runs over the corners of my eyes, the silver rings on his fingers graze my hot skin, “Thank you for telling me.” He repeats, dragging my body closer to his in a warm hug, “I want you to know, telling the others, that’s your choice. I won’t say a word. There’s no rush. I’ll even hold your hand while you do it.”

I melt in his arms. His last remark, as teasing as it was, is enough to pull a smile out of me. “I’ll make sure to let you know whenever I’m ready so you can wash your hands first. Who knows what you’ve touched.”

“Wow, rude much.” Sirius holds me for what feels like a lifetime. They say Hogwarts is the safest place there is, but I think I’ve found a worthy adversary to that claim. We don’t say anything, I said my piece and he listened. That’s all that was important. One day I’m going to have to tell James, Remus and Peter as well, but that can wait for now. The worst is done. 

“Do you feel a little more free now?” He murmurs in my ear, “Has that cage began to feel like something you could escape from?”

“Yes.” And I mean it when I say it. The future looks brighter than it ever has.

[idyllic-affections]

platonic requests you say?! well,, how about xiao or scaramouche (or both hehe but just do whichever one you’re more inspired for!) with a child reader that’s kinda like a little sibling figure for them, who just follows them around aimlessly & doesn’t listen when they’re told to go away until Big Brother Figure has to accept that they just have this Stray Child attached to them now?! thank you if you decide to do this!! <3

what's with this sassy, lost child?

summary. scaramouche is not a good person.

trigger & content warnings. implied child abuse and canon-typical scara lore.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. found family, fluff, alight angst (?). scaramouche & child!reader. 0.5k words. they/them pronouns used for reader.

author's thoughts. the title is funny; the brainrot is... less funny.... anyways, anon i love this idea! i ended up only doing scara as i had a lot of trouble with getting ideas for xiao's part? its weird since i really like xiao but i had no inspiration for him. additionally, i only wrote about fatui!scara rather than wanderer!scara. if you ever want a wanderer!scara version of this, just shoot me another request and ill be happy to do it <3 this ended up being kind of similar to a character study, which i find super interesting actually. it wasn't meant to be like that but i think its kinda cool c:

scaramouche is not a good person.

he has no issue admitting to this—he is cruel, violent, and temperamental and has no qualms with resorting to methods equally so to get what he wants. despite this... he will not commit crimes against children. that is one thing il dottore, the man very much responsible for his present state of mind, does that he won't.

the balladeer will never be caught dead being the one to take away a child's innocence and hope.

a child's innocence is unlike that of any other. it is fragile and delicate and something to be protected rather than battered and bruised. he didn't get to bask in his own innocence for very long; his view of the world around him began to skew towards darkness the moment ei threw him out as if he was nothing more than a doll that lost its novelty. he knew all too well what it felt like to be thrown away.

maybe that's why he kept them around.

"what are you doing?" he demands, turning to the kid he begrudgingly settled on keeping around. it was mostly just to spite the ignorant fatui agent that had tried to assault them after finding them lost in a research camp. it... definitely had nothing to do with the fact that he saw himself in them, that he saw kunikuzushi staring back at him when he looked down at them. not at all. definitely not, because empathy was something the balladeer absolutely did not have the capacity for.

(deep down, he knows he's only lying to himself. number six was once so gentle and kind and curious. he wasn't always this way.

regardless of how he feels about it, kunikuzushi will always be a part of him.)

"it's raining," is all they say in reply, scooting closer to the harbinger. he shoves them away with gentleness unheard of from someone like him, and they whine, adding on, "it's not even warm rain. it's cold."

"freeze, then."

their lower lip juts out into an intentionally overdramatic pout at that. "big brother's so mean to me..."

he glares down at them.

he does not, however, offer any opposition other than a soft scoff when they scoot back under his hat.

scaramouche's sharp glare redirects to a fatuus that stared at them a little too long as he rests a hand on their head, calloused fingertips rubbing little circles into their damp scalp. they seem happy with the contact—happy enough not to notice the way their guardian's eyes narrow further at the foolish, unmoving agent. it's a warning, an unspoken threat, a promise of a fate worse than death if his underling does not back off. the fatui agent seems to understand well enough, scurrying to get back to work.

the balladeer's hands are drenched in an inconceivable amount of blood and tears that no amount of rain will wash away—some belonging to him, but the majority belonging to his victims. he fears that the crimson will spread onto them like some kind of disease, consuming whatever innocence they have that he's tried so hard to preserve. the worst part is that he knows his fear isn't irrational. even a worm will turn.

number six of the fatui harbingers does not remember what it means to be gentle, but for them...

he's willing to try.

he's desperate to try.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[danizbunbunz]

☆ HOPES CALAMITY ASKS (3/4)

- AU AND ART BY @danizmomota -

TW/CW: Blood, Lots of Gore, Kidnapping, Graphic Injuries, (in the form of writing and imagery) Basic Danganronpa stuff. ((CW AT THE END FOR SLIGHT HORROR IMAGERY!))

Hi! It's Dani again! Today I'll be responding to old Asks/Inbox messages I've received! (and never answered.. :')) All of these asks will be anonymous as most of these asks date back A YEAR AGO, so just in case, nobody will be mentioned for the sake of privacy. But with that out of the way, let's get into the yapping!!

(if you happen to see your ask, and would like your ask to be taken down from this post, feel free to DM me for removal!)

"Question about the R.O.D. AU, Do all the remnants have their own personalized monokuma?"

Yes! Every remnant are given Monokuma's based off themselves. Their Monokuma counterparts are made to assist the remnants in any situation, however they are mainly dependent on the specific remnants job.

"Curious to see what a typical interaction would be between K:M and K:O lmao"

Oh sweetie, K:M* and K:O* wouldn't last even a minute with each other. Their rivalry (if you can even call it that..) is so violent, there were times where Junko and M:T* had to go out of their way to split them up, and deal with the aftermath of their shenanigans.

(*K:M: Kaito_Momota, *K:O: Kokichi_Ouma, *M:T: Mikan_Tsumiki)

"Yeah, it's me again. I don’t remember whether I asked about this or not, but...I have two options for a question for ROD!Yasuhiro:

1) What kind of relationship did he have with the same ROD!Gundham?

2) How did he feel about FF!Gundham?

At least that’s how I see it in my universes:

1) The first are Lord Tanaka and assistant Hiro;

2) The second are Hagakure, the kidnapper and victim of Gundham."

Implied Gundham X Yasuhiro, Shippers! rise up! ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

1) Y:H* at first found G:T* very eccentric, and at the very least very loud and obnoxious. In fact he mainly disliked Gundham due to the fact that his animals were constantly running around and being disruptive. (Something Yasuhiro GREATLY dislikes.) However the more Yasuhiro teamed up with Gundham, he's actually quite reliable. Just, ignore his over the top personality and loud voice. Hell, he's actually not that bad of a fighting partner.

2) Yasuhiro found the Future Foundation very interesting. The fact that they're trying to save "Hope," yet with little to no people? Perhaps he'll consider them as worthy opponents. But Gundham specifically? He finds him quite interesting actually. They believe in similar things, and his hamsters *are* pretty cute..

3) If Junko made Gundham and Yasuhiro battle partners, it would take a while for Hiro to get used to Gundham's tactical plans, but Yasuhiro won't deny, his tactics of using animals as weapons are.. odd, yet intriguing.

4) Hypothetically, IF Gundham had kidnapped Yasuhiro, (Before Hiro was turned remnant) Gundham would most likely use his animals as torment Yasuhiro, and try to pry intel out of him. But if (somehow) Yasuhiro was able to resist Gundhams assault, perhaps he may consider him as an assistant, but any rebuttals would cost Hiro's life. (Then again he'd probably just turn him in to Junko anyway.)

(Y:H: Yasuhiro_Hagakure, G:T: Gundham Tanaka, FF: Future Foundation)

"Do you have a ROD design for everyone in class 78? If so, can we see them??"

Sadly I've only created two official designs for *Class 78, (Being Leon and Yasuhiro) HOWEVER I've had concepts for some more of the cast!

(*Class 78: Danganronpa, Trigger Happy Havoc (DV1))

"Why did Leon turn remnant?"

"I mean, why wouldn't he? I'm not gonna let the chance of one of Makoto's little "friends" to slip away... I mean, it wasn't MY fault that he fell down that pit and so HAPPENED to land into my trap! Hehe!~"

"can we see despair kokichi's face?"

Wellll here's the thing.. K:O's mask is physically ATTACHED to his face, It's main purpose is to cover up an accident that happened during the first few trials of giving Kokichi small bits of the Enhancement Drug... Long story short, he got into our dynamite supply..

Although, I don't think Kokichi's messed up face would be a nice image to see..

☆ Dani here again!! Thank you for waiting patienely, I've been procrastating A lot lately and school is tiring me out lol.. ૮(˶ㅠ︿ㅠ)ა SO I DEEPLY APOLOGIZE THAT THIS TOOK FOREVER!!! I'll be trying to work on more of my Danganronpa AU's, and hopefully I'll be adding some more of my artwork to these posts!

Thank you for reading ^_^ ☆

[bbymunsonx]

The Last Time (Ted's Version)

Chapter Four

chapter warnings: language, implied sexual content, sexual tension hehe

word count: 2.4k

After embarrassingly crying to Ted about my sex life, I quickly had to run back to my flat before I embarrassed myself even more. 

When I get back to my flat, I took out my laptop and started to Google all the players on the team. Jamie Tartt, Roy Kent, Sam Obisanya. I even decided to Google Ted, purely out of curiosity. I thought I'd get a bit more caught up before our first official day of work. 

Jamie's results were what I expected. I'm definitely gonna have to work on his branding, I thought to myself.

Roy's results were pretty clean. Most of the articles just talked about how he should start to think about retiring because of his age and his supposed knee problem. 

Sam's results were about how he came to England from Nigeria to play for AFC Richmond. In every interview he does, he mostly just talks about how much he misses home. 

Ted's results made my heart drop. There were some positive things about him, but most of the things that people were saying about him online were sickening. 

Ted Lasso: Richmond's New Hillbilly Coach. 

One of the links had a video of Ted with the Wichita State Football Team. It looked like the team was in the locker room after winning a game, where they were all dancing with Ted. The football players all honestly looked like they adored that man. One of the football players in question, Julian Silva, my lovely ex-boyfriend. 

After getting to know Ted better, seeing footage of him and Julian together is enough to make my stomach churn. They are complete polar opposites. Knowing Ted, he was probably way too kind to him. A lot kinder than he deserved. 

***

The next day was our first "official" day at AFC Richmond. Naturally, Ted welcomed me at my front door with a coffee in one hand and a box of fresh made biscuits in the other. 

"What's this?" I asked while taking the box. 

"Just a little something. You gotta let me know how they are before I give 'em to the boss. Just take a little nibble." Ted eagerly waited for me to take a bite. 

"Holy shit-" I said with a mouth full of biscuits, "This is delightful. How the hell do you know how  to make this shit?"

"Google... and baking shows, of course." Ted answered. 

"The Great British Bake Off baby," Coach Beard chipped in. 

"I'm telling you, you two become more and more interesting by the day." 

When we arrived at the stadium, we all went our separate ways. Ted went to find Rebecca to give her his homemade biscuits, Coach Beard went out on the pitch, and I found my way down to my office. 

Being logged onto Richmond's socials and keeping an eye on all the comments, especially the comments revolving around Ted, was quite exhausting already. People on the internet could be so cruel. After moderating their socials for a bit, I found a livestream from Richmond's official page that they were doing a press conference, right now.

Shit, Ted probably had no idea they were dong this, I thought to myself. After reading the comments, it seemed like probably one out of ten people had something nice to say. Then it went down to zero after Ted had accidentally spit on the entire audience of journalists. Today was going to be a long day. 

After closing my laptop for a quick breather, someone knocked on my door. "Anyone in here?"

"Yeah, come on in." I responded. In came a girl that I thought looked vaguely familiar. She looked around my age, maybe a little bit older than me. Where have I seen her before?

"Hello! I just wanted to come and meet you in person! I'm Keeley Jones!" She came running up to me and giving me a hug. 

"Hi! I'm Lacy." I hugged her back, why not?

"I know! God, you're fucking fit." She took a step back and really stared at me for a second. 

"I'm not really sure what that means, but thanks!" I awkwardly laughed. "So what do you do around here?"

"I'm kinda famous for being almost famous, if that makes sense. I was with Jamie Tartt for a little, but we actually broke up a few days ago. I do a lot of PR work for the team, too, yeah?"

"Oh shit," I exhaled. Now I know where I know her. She came up when I was looking up Jamie earlier. Thank God I'm not a homewrecker. 

"But I'm not taking your job or anything. You're actually way more qualified than me." Keeley laughed. "We'll be working together, if that's alright. I do more of the 'getting them sponsorships' and shit and you're more of their public image of the players and the overall club. I have a feeling we're gonna be great friends, Lace." Keeley smiled.

"Me too, Keeley." I smiled back. 

***

"Lacy, come in here a second, would ya?" Ted called from his desk to mine. I'd been splitting my time evenly between being on the pitch with the coaches and the players and being in my office. I wanted to make sure I knew what they were doing, but I also wanted to make sure I was doing my job and moderating their socials. 

"Yes, Coach?" I said with my voice slightly raised and my lashes fluttered, obviously being facetious. Why not have some fun and spice up the day?  I decided to get comfortable and sit atop of his desk. 

After clearing his throat, visibly affected by my comment, Ted managed to say, "I wanna throw a birthday party for Sam. He's just feeling a bit homesick at the moment and he needs to know that we're on his side. So are you free tonight?"

"What makes you think I'd literally be doing anything else?" I raised an eyebrow. 

"Well, I didn't know if you had plans with a certain Mr. Ja-," Ted laughed as I cut him off. 

"No, Ted. I will be there."

"Great, see you later," Ted got up and touched my arm before leaving the office, causing my heart to almost fall out of ass as I looked over at Coach Beard, who of course, had his head in a book and didn't witness any of what happened. Ted always touches people in their arms when he talks to them. That's just his thing. 

"Are you gonna go to the party tonight, Beardo?" I asked. 

"Beardo?" I finally got him to put the book down.

"Is that alright?" I questioned. Maybe Ted touching my arm is causing me to act all weird. 

Beard took a second to think before responding with, "I'll allow it." He then got up and left the office, leaving me just sitting there on Ted's desk, all alone.

***

 After going back to my flat and getting ready for the party, I settled on a little cocktail dress that Rebecca put in my closet. 

Ted Lasso: You ready, spaghetti?

Lacy Watson: As ready as I'm gonna be.

Coach Beard: Can I bring a girl I met today?

Lacy Watson: When did you meet a girl? You were at work all day?

Ted Lasso: We're just gonna keep tonight a work casual thing. If she's like any of your other gals, we don't wanna scare Sam. Maybe next time, Bud. 

Coach Beard disliked " We're just gonna keep tonight a work casual thing. If she's like any of your other gals, we don't wanna scare Sam. Maybe next time, Bud."

Rhythmic knocks rapped against my door. "Come in!" I yelled down. A few sets of footsteps came up my stairs when suddenly Ted and Coach Beard rounded the corner into my living room. A part of me panicked realizing this was their first time in my flat. 

"Look at you!" Ted called out to me, causing me to roll my eyes. 

"Let's just go." I groaned. 

I wore my sneakers during the walk so I wasn't suffering in my heals. When we arrived at the stadium, Ted had sent Coach Beard in while he helped me change into my heals that I brought in my bag. Ted, being the gentleman he is, knelt to the ground to help give me some balance. 

"Are you nervous about seeing Jamie? You didn't really see him today at training." Ted questioned, while letting me hold onto his shoulders while putting on my heals. 

"I'm not that bothered by it. Either way, tonight is all about making Sam feel at home. I have to put my stupid boy drama aside for the night."

"Panda?" Ted looked up at me. There was just something about this man knelt before me, looking up at me, that made my stomach do acrobatics. 

"I think we should choose a different word. There's just something about a grown man saying the word panda that's just a little funny," I joked to change the subject. 

"Whatever you want." Ted looked down and smirked. Just as he was about to say something else, Coach Beard came running outside, huffing all out of breath. 

"There you guys are! I thought you got lost!" He exclaimed. 

"You're such a smart-ass." I laughed. Ted got off his knees and escorted Coach Beard and I into the stadium. 

Football players were standing all throughout the locker room with drinks in their hand, deep in conversation. The locker room was filled with balloons, streamers, and miscellaneous birthday decorations. "Who did this?" I questioned. 

"Oh, that would be me." Nate came out of nowhere. 

 "You did an awesome job, Nate-dawg. It looks great." Ted slapped Nate on the back, to which he smiled. 

"Yeah, this looks awesome, Nate." I smiled at him. "If you'll excuse me, real quick. I'm gonna go find Sam."

After looking around the locker room, I found Sam deep in conversation with Colin Hughes. "Hi, Sam! Happy birthday!" I went to shake his hand since I didn't formally meet him yet. He pushed my hand away and gave me a hug. 

"Thank you, Ms. Watson! This is such an amazing surprise. It's been really hard being away from my family, so thank you for helping me feel less alone."

"Of course, Sam. And please, I'm only four years older than you. Please just call me Lacy."

"Yes, Lacy." Sam smiled back. 

"Enjoy the party." I gave Sam a side hug as he continued his conversation with Colin. As I went throughout the locker room, looking to see if Keeley had showed up, I saw the last person I wanted to see, Jamie Tartt. 

"Hi, Jamie." I decided to be civil, especially if I have to work with him. 

"Hiya, Lacy. Nice party." He took a sip of his drink, probably his second or third drink of the night. 

"Hm." I just nodded in response, not really knowing what to say. 

"Let's get you a drink." Jamie took my hand to get me a drink. I didn't really feel like a drink tonight, especially because I wanted to get some work done when I got back to my flat. 

"That's alright, Jamie. I don't really want to." I looked to my left and saw Ted staring daggers at Jamie. He was on the complete other side of the locker room, so he couldn't even possibly hear what we were saying. 

"Cmon, just one drink. For old times sake," Jamie winked at me. 

"How can that possibly be for old times sake, that was three days ago." Sometimes Jamie genuinely confused the fuck out of me. 

"Just have one drink with me and I'll leave ya alone, yeah? Let's just be civil." Jamie continued to persuade. 

As soon as I saw Ted start to walk over to us, I heard a deep voice come from behind me, "She's not having the fucking drink, so get the fuck out of here." Roy Kent. 

"No one's talking to you, Grandpa." Jamie looked behind me and stared down Roy. 

"Is there an issue going on here, fellas?" Ted finally made his way over, standing directly next to me. 

"No one's talking to you, wanker. I'm trying to give Lacy an opportunity with a real man, yeah?" Jamie laughed to himself. 

"I think you've had too much to drink tonight, Jamie. How about you just go home before we all do something we regret." Ted sternly said to him. If looks could kill, Jamie would be dead on the floor. 

"This party fucking blows anyway." Jamie threw his drink on the floor and walked out. Tears started to form in my eyes. I really wanted to be civil with Jamie, but he may be making that impossible. 

"Come here," Ted took my arm and I went with him but stopping him before we got too far. 

"Wait a second," I pulled away for a moment to turn around to Roy, "Thank you, Roy." I gave him a tiny hug, to which he grunted and walked away. I was gonna break through him. I could feel it. 

I ran back up to Ted as he was talking to Beard, "I'm just gonna take her home. You've got it from here?" 

Coach Beard nodded. 

***

It was a very silent walk back home with neither one of us knowing exactly what to say. 

Ted broke the silence first, "Do you want me to say something to him tomorrow?"

"No, Ted. It's alright. He was drunk. I don't think he's a bad guy, just stupid." I laughed a little, to which Ted nodded. 

"Alright, then. Just give me the word and he'll be off my team." Ted responded sternly. No hint of a joke behind his tone. I just nodded. 

When we made it back to the flats, Ted stopped at the foyer and as always, asked if I wanted to join him inside for a drink. 

"I think I'm gonna call it a night. I gotta catch up on all our socials and I don't even think I have the energy to do that." 

"Well, don't work too hard," Ted pointed a finger at me. 

"I make no promises. I gotta prove to the boss lady that I'm worth keeping around."

"Touche. Well, have a good night, Lacy Loo."

"Goodnight, Teddy."

He walked into his flat the same time I walked into mine. After the door shut, my back pressed against the door as I felt it difficult to catch my breath. All I could feel were the butterflies in my stomach, trying to pull me into his flat. Though it's only been three days, I had to stop lying to myself. I wasn't just being flirty for the hell of it. I didn't reject Jamie Tartt because he's not a good looking guy. 

No. I was falling for Ted Lasso. 

Fuck. 

authors note: these next few chapters are gonna get sooooo good I love writing jealous Ted and I wanna keep writing more of him hehe I cannot wait to write the gala ep I'll leave it up to your imagination for now. also!! lacy and roy's friendship is gonna be the end of me I swear <3 im gonna try to have a chapter out every other day :)

taglist: @nerdgirljen

[voidzphere]

Your headcanons post actually made me remember something about Ink's canon character hehe

Anyways, i think Ink being autistic-coded to be one of the most interesting character choices for him tbh, i really like how he clearly is supposed to be an 'au-guy' (he's an au fanboy lmao) rather than a 'people-guy' (a.k.a he's got at AU's but in not good at people). He doesn't get along with people very well (or at all) and i think that's interesting! I find him actually extremly similar to entrapta in a lot of ways.

as an autistic person ive alwayz found more of a bond and connection to the thingz i hyperfixate on and find interesting rather than actual people. incorporating this into ink is a good way of representing how autistic people may want to be more of a “people-person”, but alwayz end up running back to their interestz either way.

entrapta is also canonically implied to be autistic <3

[selene-and-the-cold]

😷🚗

hehe

A while ago, I reblogged this amazing prompt list and got this wonderful ask from you, dear anon.

😷 - “Sharing is not caring!”

🚗 - Road Trip

I'm sorry it took me ages to respond, but truth be told, I just could not decide what to do with this prompt combo. My first attempt at writing something was the most obvious one, having two SOs together in a car, one of them sharing their cold with the other.

However, then my brain decided that I had to come up with a different take on this, so I redesigned a second take, which I then binned for this last and third instalment.

What my brain came up with is this 3.8 k of roadtrip, where the burgeoning cold of one person is not the only thing that makes the trip uncomfortable.

Set in an AU where these two are actually colleagues, although their relationship status is canon in my OC-universe ^^

Hope you enjoy. And if you would have preferred that SOs sharing a cold thing, let me know ^^

Also: writing this after quite some time away from writing was so much fun. If anyone is interested in any further prompts, just send me an ask :)

CW for talk about ex relationships, implied contagion, slight mess, and mentions of sexy times, but nothing graphic

Male sneezes. M/M

--------

It was Tuesday. Usually, Nicholas was ok with Tuesdays. Monday was always awful. Who wanted to give up their cozy weekend in exchange for getting back to a stressful job?! Wednesday was either hopeful or terrible, depending on how the week had gone so far. Thursday was often dragging its heels or gone way to fast in the race up to the weekend, while Friday was technically weekend already, so Nicholas was cool with Fridays.

This particular Tuesday, though, was the horribly uncomfortable lovechild of a merciless Monday, an insurmountable Wednesday, and the longest Thursday ever known to mankind. At least that was how it felt.

Due to a chain of unlucky events, Nicholas found himself in a car together with his colleague Sebastian. He was a nice enough guy, the prototypical calm and tall Northern European type, blond, blue eyes. Actually quite hot. There was only one catch - Sebastian was his ex-boyfriend.

"So, how are things between you and Robert going?," Sebastian asked, in a friendly, non-chalant tone, but the question had Nicholas grab the steering wheel tighter.

"Good," he replied tight-lipped, eyes fixed firmly on the road. He did not want to have this conversation. Sebastian had no business asking questions about his new relationship.

"Only good?," Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “I was expecting a little more enthusiasm."

"Very good," Nicholas growled. "But that's nothing I want to discuss with you."

"Shame… seeing that you are practically glued to the guy whenever he's around. If you're set on not talking about him, you won't have much to talk about, at all, and it's going to be two looooong silent days worth of road trip."

"It's going to be two long, uncomfortable  days anyway, so we might as well get started with being uncomfortable now. And please stop calling this a “road trip”. This is work and we only had to take the car because you forgot to book our flights in time!"

Nicholas huffed, then did not say anything, jaw set as if he was mentally glueing it shut for the next 48 hours.

Said uncomfortable silence stretched between them, the only noise coming from the hum of the engine and the subdued  chatter on the radio.

They drove in silence for a good amount of time, both following their own trains of thought, and after a while, the long, wordless minutes kindly melted into hours.

After a while, Sebastian breathed in as if he was about to say something. Instead, his head bobbed forward. "Heh'UttSccHhIu!"

"Bless," Nicholas mumbled, out of politeness rather than true concern.

"Sorry… snfffl"

Another long stretch of silence, followed by a sharp, breathy inhale.

"HEHhhh'USSSHhiuh!"

Nicholas eyed Sebastian from the side. A cloud of misty spray danced around his blonde head. In the sunlight, it looked like specks of gold.

"Bless you again."

"Snnnrfff Thag you…" Sebastian sniffled harshly, then dragged the sleeve of his shirt under his nose.

"You getting sick?"

"What? NO! Of course ndot! snnnrrff"

Nicholas didn't believe him. Sebastian had sounded so fucking insincere that one could hear the lie and denial a mile off. Which was unusual. Nicholas knew Sebastian to be an excellent liar.

"Alright then." Nicholas grumbled, decidedly not taking the bait designed to lure him into prying further into that cold denial business. Sebastian crossed his arms in front of his chest as if he was angry that Nicholas had passed up his bait.

A few more minutes passed, then Nicholas could see how Sebastian's head reared back, exposing his long, pale neck. Nicholas suddenly remembered the little sighs of pleasure Sebastian had made when he had kissed it during sex.

"Hehh'ISSSsHHU!! Hueehhh… H'ESSSHH!!"

Two forceful sneezes, both uncovered, filling the car with specks of gold.

"Ugh… 'scuse mbe!"

Sebastian gave a pathetic sniffle, then rubbed his nose with his knuckles. Nicholas had a hard time focusing on the road. Fuck Sebastian and fuck his sneezes.

His annoyingly sexy sneezes.

"Would be nice if you'd cover that. Sounds like you're catching something nasty and I don't want to get whatever you caught." Nicholas said gruffly.

"Sharing is caring, isn't that how the saying goes? And I still care a great deal about you," Sebastian replied, a sly grin spreading on his face. It made him look so impeccably sexy. He had always been good at pulling of the cheeky, youthful look. Clean, straight, intelligent, and with a boyish charm that effortlessly clad him in an air of innocence. Except he wasn't.

Sebastian was a wolf in sheeps clothing and Nicholas had to keep that in mind. Actually, he had to keep a number of things in mind. All the stuff they'd need for the conference they were headed to. His boyfriend Robert, who had not called or texted after their argument three days ago, and who had ignored all of Nicholas' calls and texts. They hadn't even said goodbye or seen each other before Sebastian and Nicholas had had to set off for their work road trip, and it stung like hell, right there in the pit of his stomach.

"Well, I for one do not care, Sebastian, and you shouldn't either. And I particularly don't care for your germs all over the car."

"Hmm…" Sebastian hummed, contemplating this statement. "That's odd, because I distinctly remember times when you cared a great deal about it when I sneezed~"

Nicholas blushed fiercely, right to the tips of his ears. Shards of memories exploded in front of his inner eye unbidden. Sebastian lying on their bed, wearing nothing but his cherry-red cold-ridden nose. Their bodies intertwined in frenzied passion. Sebastian's features convulsing as he sneezed and came all at once. The warm weight of Sebastian's body against his, as Nicholas had held him tight, while Sebastian had quivered with sneeze after helpless sneeze…

Shaking his head slightly, Nicholas cleared his throat. His lips were parched, and he licked them, realizing that he had held his breath for some time.

"You remember, my heart… my Nico… don't you?," Sebastian insisted. "Our long nights and lazy days of passion. Especially those we spent after you told me all about your secret little kink…"

His voice trailed off, its absence conjuring up images of their shared past. Sebastian had often called him Nico in the intimate moments when they were sprawled out in bed after making love, their bodies a tangled mess, heavy with the contented weight of satisfaction. But Nicholas did not want to remember. He wanted to forget.

"Don't call me that! I'm neither "your heart", nor "your Nico". We're not together anymore!" Nicholas snapped.

"I am a- hhHAAhh!!.. Aaahhh!… snnfff… aware."

Sebastian hitched theatrically, then gave his nose a self-indulgent rub, massaging it until a small squelching sound was heard. Congestion building and shifting. It was almost as if Sebastian teased him on purpose, playing up his symptoms.

Nicholas shifted in his seat. His body - the fucking traitor!- started to react to the ongoing shameless display of Sebastian's sneezes, no matter how much Nicholas tried to fight it. Apparently, it remembered more than Nicholas would have liked.

He tried to push the physical reaction down into submission by reciting poetry in his head, while the changing scenery of countryside and villages flickered past outside. He had gone through quite a bit of Robert Frost, when another poem popped up in his mind:

"What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my head till morning; but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh Upon the glass and listen for reply…"

Just as Nicholas' thoughts caught on these last two lines, a thunderous sneeze sounded from the passenger seat, the ghost of his own past uncomfortably close.

"Ugh… Ndico, mby heart, could we please stop and take a break?"

Sebastian moaned his voice heavy with his cold. It sounded like his throat was badly swollen and someone had his sinuses filled with sticky syrup.

"Umm… sure. It's quite late anyway…" Nicholas replied, letting Sebastian's use of his term of endearment slip. Truth be told, he was too tired to argue anymore.

Since it was already late and Nicholas was tired as a rock, while Sebastian was not feeling up to driving with the burgeoning cold he had not yet admitted having, they decided to crash at a motel for the night earlier than planned, but both were in dire need of some rest.

Nicholas asked for two rooms, but like in some kind of cheap rom-com, there was only one bedroom with a double bed left due to an event taking place in the city.

"Fine, we'll take it," Nicholas growled, even though sharing a room with his ex was the last thing he wanted. He grabbed the keys and set off to find their room, Sebastian hot on his heels.

“Mhm, sharing a roob agaid after all this timbe~" Sebastian suggestively wiggled his eyebrows, but his seductive tone lost its allure due to the thick congestion in his voice.

"Needs must, but don't think I'm gonna share a bed with you! I'll take the couch.."

--------

The two of them walked down a set of boring beige-walled hallways, feet floating on a thick, dark-blue carpet that reminded Nicholas of a cruise ship. Not that he had ever been on a cruise, but this was the idea of a cruise ship the media had shaped in his brain.

Sebastian had gotten awfully quiet and shivered a bit as he stood next to Nicholas, waiting for him to let them into their room, then sneezed violently as soon as the lights in the room came on, taking possession of the place by unleashing his army of germs into the space.

"Bless you," Nicholas offered, meanwhile on autopilot. God, he was tired all of a sudden. All he wanted was to crawl into bed and rest. Well, scratch that. Crawl onto the couch and rest. He was just about to get a pillow from the bed to his makeshift resting place, when he realised that there was no couch. There wasn't even a fucking armchair. Only a rickety looking chair and desk combo, which looked like someone had made them out of cardboard, ready to fold in on themselves as soon as someone just breathed too forcefully next to them. That wasn't good…

Sebastian must have connected all the dots about a fraction later, because Nicholas suddenly heard him chirp: "Looks like it's going to be a shared bed after all~"

"Oh, shut up!"

"Alright, alright! Ndo ndeed to be-… hiihhh…. snnfff  grumpy. Hiihh?! Hiihh'yISSSHHU!!"

Sebastian burst forth with a spraying sneeze, a tiny rope of mess shooting from his left nostril.

"Oh… 'scuse mbe!" Sebastian sheepishly looked at Nicholas, flashing him an embarrassed smile. "Would you be a dear and hand mbe a tdissue?"

Nicholas gulped. This whole set up painfully reminded him of some of the early days after Sebastian and him had newly gotten together at university. An unplanned sleepover at his dorm room when Sebastian had been coming down with a nasty cold. His body pressed against Sebastian's feverish frame, as they had both squeezed into his tiny single dorm bed, Sebastian curled up against his chest, snuffling  sneezing, and coughing all night, while half of Nicholas' body had hung out of the tiny bed frame because he'd wanted Sebastian to be comfortable and the bed just was not big enough for two people to rest comfortably all night.

"Ndico?"

Sebastian's voice suddenly jerked him back to reality. Damn, why did all of these unbidden images keep swimming to the surface?

"Hmm?"

"Tdissues? I really ndeed theb…"

"Oh! Right. Sorry."

Nicholas hurried to fetch the box of tissues and handed one white square directly to Sebastian, who immediately pressed it to his streaming nose and gave a hearty blow.

"Thank you."

Nicholas just bobbed his head in silent acknowledgement. Suddenly  the room felt stifling and way too small. He wanted out. He wanted to get away from Sebastian. He wanted Robert.

"I'll go for a short a walk. You get comfortable, ok?"

"But…"

"No buts. Please, Sebastian. I just.. need some time alone. It's been a long day."

With that, Nicholas took the key and went outside. It was quite cold, so sleeping in the car was not an option. He wished he had brought a thicker jacket, but it was at Robert's place and he had not dared going there after their fight.

Nicholas kicked a stone with his foot. Why had they even started to argue anyway? Oh… right. It was because of this stupid trip. A few months ago, Sebastian had started working at Nicholas' work place. Fortunately they were not direct colleagues, but their departments worked together on some projects  so there was overlap.

This road trip was such an overlap. Both him and Sebastian had been chosen by their respective departments to represent them at an important conference. Leading up to that, Nicholas and Sebastian had to prepare a presentation. Robert had not been amused.

Especially because Nicholas and Sebastian had to spend a considerable amount of time together preparing said presentation and Sebastian – ever the flirt – had not bothered to hold back, even – and especially! - when Robert was present. Sebastian wanted him back and had even told him so on numerous occasions. Sadly, he had not taken no as an answer.

Nicholas sighed and stopped himself re-enacting the argument he had had with Robert in his head. He had done so at least a dozen times, but since Robert refused to get in touch with him, it was difficult to apologise and address certain things.

After he had been wandering around aimlessly for some time, and after he had tried calling Robert twice more without getting any reaction, the chill fall air had wormed its way through his thin jacket into his bones, and Nicholas decided to go back to their room. Perhaps he could make the old chair and desk combo work after all.

---------

As Nicholas returned to their room, Sebastian was already changed and in bed, tissue box clutched to his chest, bright-red nose streaming, and rolled into a tight ball against some invisible cold draft only he could feel.

Nicholas made quick work of changing into his pyjamas - in the bathroom, as if the man in the other room had not seen him naked more times than Nicholas cared to think of. But it felt odd to just undress in front of him. The ease and trust this entailed had been left behind in another life. Furthermore, even the thought of undressing in front of Sebastian felt like cheating on Robert.

Therefore, Nicholas got himself ready for bed in the tiny motel bathroom, then arranged the desk and chair so that he could sit in the chair and put his feet up on the desk, thus creating a wildly uncomfortable half sitting half lying down position for himself between these two pieces of furniture. It looked like a decidedly uncomfortable, Frankensteinian version of a hammock.

Sebastian watched, but did not say anything until Nicholas came to the bed, grabbing a pillow and a blanket.

“Whadt… *sniff* whadt are you doing?” Sebastian asked, clearly bewildered that instead of climbing into bed next to him, Nicholas had tucked the pillow under his arm and was tugging at the second blanket to take it with him.

“Getting ready for bed.”

Nicholas shot the rickety desk and chair combo a meaningful look, pointing at it with his chin.

“Oh, dod't be ridiculou-… Huhhh?… Huh'USSHHzzuh! God, sorry… *sniff* ridiculous. You cad't sleep od that thing!”

“I can't sleep in here, either and frankly, the floor does not look very appealing…”

Nicholas had wrestled the blanket into submission and was standing at his makeshift bed, arranging the pillow.

“But Ndico…”

“No more “but”s, Sebastian. Pleeeaase? I'm tired and I just want to go to bed…. and so should you, by the way. You look awful!”

“Thank you, I've mbissed your combpliments, mby heart.” Another sneeze wrecked his body. Sebastian tried to catch it in the flimsy tissue he was holding, but Nicholas could see specks of spray dancing in the dim light of the reading lamp on the night stand.

“'scuse mbe. What I was triyng to say was: I just dod't get why you're so stubborn?”

“Stubborn? Me?! ” Nicholas was more than just a little annoyed at this point. The long drive, his argument with his boyfriend and Sebastian's constant nagging finally getting the better of him.

“That's rich coming from a man who has no concept of the word “no”. I'm sick and tired of your constant double innuendo, flirty eyes, eyebrow-wiggles and all of that crap, barging in on my job and my new relationship. You are the last person on this planet I want to share a room with. Yet, here I am, sharing a room with you because work is important to me. If I did not have to be here for the job, you better believe I'd be ANYWHERE but in a room with you!”

At that, Nicholas plopped down into the chair, put his legs up on the desk and pulled the blanket over himself, demonstratively closing his eyes. He had nothing more to say. Fortunately, there was a light-switch nearby, which he kicked with his foot, plunging them into darkness, hoping to cut off any possible attempts of his room-mate to continue this farce of a conversation.

Sebastian had gotten the point, though and did not try to force the conversation on Nicholas anymore. Both men were lying awake in the darkness for the next one and a half hours, listening to each other's breathing. A neon side from outside shone dirty orange light through the cracks of the curtains. From time to time, a car sped by on the nearby road. And Sebastian could not find rest. He tossed and turned on the bed, sheets rustling like the ruffled feathers of an angry flock of birds. From time to time, a heavy, congested sneeze cut through the silence, and from the sound of it, Sebastian must have gone through at least half the tissue box already.

Nicholas could tell that Sebastian tried his best to keep the noise down to a minimum – sneezes muffled into tissues or pillows, suppressed coughs that were only made worse as the sick man tried to fight them back down his throat. In short: Sebastian sounded miserable. And Nicholas was uncomfortable as hell. The chair was somehow both rickety enough to keep him worrying about it breaking under him, and hard enough to make him feel like he was sitting on a riverbank littered with the sharpest stones known to mankind.

“Ndico?”

Sebastian's voice drifted over. A weak, shivery thing, heavy with congestion.

“Hmm?”

“I'b sorry,” said the small voice, sniffling pitifully.

“What for?”

Nicholas was confused. It was fucking late o'clock at night and he had no idea what the hell Sebastian was talking about.

“For getti'g sick and for getti'g you sick as well with all mby sndeezing. And… well… you kndow… Everything.”

Nicholas sat up a little straighter in his chair. This was not about the trip. This was about them. About the lies. The cheating. That other guy.

“Everything? You mean…”

“Yes.”

Nicholas felt his heart pump in his veins. “Even for…?”

“Especially that.” Sebastian had cut him off before he could say the words out loud, but the calm, decisive way he responded left no doubt that Sebastian knew what he had meant to say.

“Hmm…,” Nicholas hummed, his brain searching the darkness for words that might fit, but they were running through his minds like sand.

“And for Robert too,” Sebastian continued, then sneezed twice more. They sounded heavier, like the congestion had settled not only in his nose, but in his chest, too. “I kndow I've beed putting pressure od your relationship with him, and I'b sorry. He seebs like a good guy. That's why I hate id that he's with you ndow.”

Nicholas just stared ahead at a speck of orange light filtering in. There were goosebumps on his skin, and he swallowed hard. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? What the hell was he supposed to do with all of these sudden confessions?

“I erm… Thanks, I guess. For telling me.”

“You're welcobe. That was long overdue..” Another long silence. Another hefty sneeze. Then: “Hey, why dod't you cobe and lie down here id bed with mbe? It mbust be hella uncobfortable od that chair.”

“It is,” Nicholas agreed with a small chuckle. Then the rustling of a blanket was heard before the mattress dipped down next to Sebastian under Nicholas' weight.

“Oh god, this is so much better,” he groaned, sounding like he had just experienced the best climax of his life.

“You kndow that I'b good in bed…,” Sebastian chuckled, but it transitioned into a coughing fit. “cough Sorry.”

“'tis fine,” Nicholas said, his voice suddenly drowsy as his lack of sleep caught up with him and his body could not resist the siren song of the soft mattress any longer. Still, there was one more question he had to ask: “Seb, why did you tell me all of that now?”

Sebastian pondered this question, then propped himself up on his elbow and turned, facing Nicholas.

“Because sharing is caring, and it was time that I shared mby thoughts with you. Ndot just mby germs.”

Nicholas smiled faintly. Oh there sure as hell was no escaping this cold. But perhaps this road trip had been worth it after all. Perhaps it had been good that this particular ghost of his past had come to haunt him right now. Perhaps Robert would be less cross with him if he returned a sniffling, sneezing mess from this trip.

“Thank you. Now try to get some sleep.”

“HEHhhh'USSSHhiuh!!! TtZZSHHU!!”

“Goodnight…”

[mxltifxnd0m]

hehehe HI BABY <33 how are you wifey <33 i'm here to send stuff in for your milestone event!! congrats once again!! <33

i'm interested in 🗡️: thy enemy hehehe ; i'd love to get it with supernatural! my random facts are that my fav season is fall, my signature look is also a big brown jacket hehehe, i'm 100% moon coded, i'm learning some witchcraft, i'm very artsy (visual arts + dance), i'm super silly goofy and optimistic lol, andddd i love learning languages! hope those facts work LOL i wasn't sure what to say heh

and also! 🎥: interviews! i'd really like to ask who your favorite percy jackson characters are??? are there any characters or ships that you don't like? we should just talk more abt pjo together in general hehe <33

-mari @prentissluvr

OMG HIII LOVER MARI @prentissluvr !! <33 im doing well thank you for asking and i hope you're doing great as well!! also another huge thank you bc i wouldn't haven't gotten to this milestone with your post about wet hair sam!! (then it devolved into me writing a scenario about it and now we are where we are rn ;P)

okay okay time to get to the events you requested!! (they're going to go under the cut bc i fear it might be a long one LOL)

🗡️: thy enemy event! [also implied that you're a hunter]

⟡ lover: sam winchester

where do i start? sam would one, love love love your personality! your optimism, free spirited, and silly personality is what drew him to you in the first place. it was like a breath of fresh air after stewing in dean's pessimism and the dread that hung over the two of them while hunting/ being hunters for so long. he admires the fact that you love to learn new languages and even would try to learn the one you're currently learning atm. this totally didn't happened but before the two of you started to date and found out that you loved to pick up new languages, sam tried learning one of the languages you already knew to try and impress/surprise you with. the fact that you can dance and draw makes sam fall for you even more, loving the fact that you have such a creative spirit and it shows in the doodles you give him as you absentmindedly draw on napkins from a dinner or even have the opportunities to draw on his hand or arm. it also shows with how graceful and agile you are as you hunt.

sam would be so intrigued that you're picking up witchcraft! though he would be hesitant at first but eventually open up to the fact that you are. he would listen intently to your ramblings about what you had learned as you researched about the craft. sam would smile at your fascination with the moon and how much you love fall, being to see your face brighten when you see the leaves change and seeing you bundled up in your favorite brown jacket (that looks eerily similar to one in his closet) as you guys walk together hand in hand down the bustling streets of whatever town you guys are staying in for the time being.

⟡ best friend: jo harvelle

jo would adore your silly and goofy nature! at first she'd thought that your attitude didn't match hunters at all but as you rolled through the roadhouse every so often, she found it refreshing. it was better than the gruff and brash personalities that floated in and out of the bar that she was used to and found that when you come in, a smile stretched on her face as you greeted her eagerly. from then the two of you attached to one another like glue. she can always tell when you’re at the roadhouse because of the brown jacket you always wear when your favorite season rolls around. jo loves when you get slightly tipsy enough to where you start to dance with her in the empty bar after closing to the old jukebox in the corner or when you accidentally slip into one of the languages you’re learning or fluent in. the two of you as best friends would probs make the world collapse if you spent everyday together.

⟡ (fre)nemy: dean winchester

okay i don't think you'd have any enemies in spn, but you and dean would def have a frenemy/bickering relationship with one another. at first, dean would find your optimism a little grating and just confusing because why would someone so optimistic be a hunter? he likes to pretend he's a serious hunter but we all know deep down he is a silly goofy guy and seeing that reflected in your personality makes him envious that he doesn't express it is often as he wants to. so in turn he either shuns you or makes some off-handed remarks about it. but in turn you would dish it right back at him, throwing him off but then you guys would devolve into a little bickering battle, only ending when sam has to interject like a referee and almost separate you guys (sam sends you guys to opposite sides of the motel to cool down). but after a bad hunt, you sit with dean in silence and things shifted between of you. the bickering wasn't out of malice but dean has to keep up appearances and can't show that he tolerates you (even though by the time the bickering is over, there's a small smile on his face). he'll never admit this out loud but he finds it cool that you know a lot of languages and that you are creative spirit (you gave him sketch of the impala and he still has it to this day even though he said he was going to throw it out).

⟡⟡⟡

🎥: interviews!

⟡ i'd really like to ask who your favorite percy jackson characters are???

OMGG i have too many, i love all of them so much!! but if i had to choose like top five it would be: percy, annabeth, leo, frank, and reyna!

⟡ are there any characters or ships that you don't like?

oof ermm that is a tough question mari 😭😭. but for one FUCK OCTAVIAN im glad that little rat bastard died in blood of olympus LMAO (octavian got what he deserved) but other than him i don't really hate any characters in the pjo universe, but i mean i could also say the godly parents bc that's a given. but sally jackson is our queen! 🙌

when it comes to ships, most of them i like but there is one where it doesn't make sense in my mind lol which is leo and calypso? its not that i don't think leo could bag calypso, he literally did lol, but like we've seen leo's perspective in the books and mans would not benefit from a relationship. another than that i like any of the other ships that are canon or fanon. i'm not a huge shipper myself but i obvs love percabeth, solangelo, frazel, and jason x brick LOL.

UGH THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS IN MARI!! I HAD SO MUCH FUN DOING THIS <33

[anonymous-eggy]

i had been talking to a friend and we had an idea that had been stuck with me for a while😃

um. vampire au👀 mc can also be a vamp but VAMPIRE AU…Nicky with sharp teeth..hehe… and red glowing eyes…

apparently i lied when i said i wasnt very interested in Nicky anymore. i think its just seasonal. warm weather brings back the need to think ab him. time to go through my dusty old inbox and spout gibberish at the ghosts.

jealous of anon for having a friend to talk ab Nicky with fr. if only fictif didnt suck and get abandoned, I'd force my friends to play it.

AS HOT AS VAMPIRE NICKY WOULD BE...I HAVE TO TALK AB VAMP MC

poor Nicky trying to hide the fact that he, a catholic (or so he swears, despite not acting very catholic) sicilian mob boss, is in love with a chaotic arsonist (possibly queer as hell) vampire mc is so so funny.

Like. suddenly he's also completely nocturnal bc he wants to spend time around his love and Chris is like "dude you never wanna do meetings during the day anymore, why do i have to go to all your daytime meetings" and Nicky has to try to pass off an excuse.

----

Chris: whatcha got there?

Nicky, holding a parasol over his vampire lover while holding their drink: alcohol :D

----

also... him allowing mc to bite his neck and then practically begging for it next time you need blood bc surprise this 6 foot somethin' mafia boss found out he gets a lil hot, bothered, and submissive when you bite him and drink his blood. straddle his lap while doin it to feel the effects what who said that. anyway. uh. 👀

the absolute confusion this man would feel in terms of whats possible and his faith. can someone be catholic and horny for a vampire lover? surely he can bc he also finds it hot how "wrong" it is despite how good it feels. but yeah tbh he wouldnt think too much bc he canonically doesn't think too hard ab love he just goes with what he feels and doesnt question much further than that.

(side tangent: i adore him so much for being one of the only love interests I've ever seen that canonically uses no labels for his sexuality. no label representation. i adore that he doesnt wanna be put in a box. and its not just because he lives in the 1920s and doesnt have the word for his sexuality, he just truly doesnt vibe with labelling his sexuality. good for him. if you didnt know this, surprise! thats a fun fact from this dumbass who knows practically everything about his character bc i cant be chill about anything and must know everything)

anyway for example with my self insert(ish) mc: trans gay little vampire man who turns into a sgrunkly little bat and hangs from his chandelier in protest that Nicky had to go to a daytime meeting for once? Nicky comes out of the kitchen with a lil platter of fruits to lure him down for a cuddle by the fire place while sweetly apologizing bc god forbid he do his job and not suffer the wrath of a little clingy dustball squeaking at him.

OR NICKY TUCKING LITTLE BAT MC IN HIS COAT DURING THE DAY WHILE HE DOES HIS ROUNDS CHECKING ON HIS BUSINESSES?! he just reaches into his coat every now and then to give his love a little scritch on the head 😭 and everyone around him gets nervous that he's hiding something super valuable or dangerous that he doesnt wanna lose (which is true, but not in the way they think)

see also: Nicky getting into some trouble during the night and being all chill ab it and saying to the guys "oh im not the one you gotta be afraid of" and the guys laughing until guard dog Mc appears, absolutely pissed, hungry, and ready to hunt their fill for the night.

and mc just randomly one day being like "you realize im a good 200 years older than you, right." after Nicky says something that implies Mc is younger and Nicky immediately lights up and just begins asking baseball history questions, not even phased by Mc saying that. which is much to Mc's dread.

my brain worms have recently been obsessed with the concept of a mob boss falling in love with a vampire anyway, so this is prime thinks for me.

i shall continue rotating this in my mind.

[clamsjams]

If you’re chill with people in your ask box sharing theories /if not you can ignore this ^^/. My personal theory about Maximus is that he’s not secretly working for the federation or anything, the federation just needed him to either 1: cause unrest and distrust among the order group since he was one of the forming members of it 2: they needed to test a small experiment with him, 3 he could’ve also became a sleeper agent but I doubt it.

I don’t think the code attacks people who are with the federation, I think it attacks people because the federation needs them for something or to take them in private, making the code seem worse and more threatening to the residents just helps the cause since it takes the heat off the federation a little bit.

dude i’m chill with people in my ask box just to say hi or something pls pls pls talk to me i am normal i swear i am not foaming at the mouth i can talk to ppl

anyways yeah i absolutely agree with ur first thing, bc of how trumps death affected max and the way he’s been so so focused on finding answers, founding the ordo theoritas, and basically constantly trying to figure out the federation, there’s basically no way he would ever be a part of the federation willingly imo. unlike fit, who seemed to stay more neutral, which makes sense if he was planning on being a traitor for a different organization, and he had to have been planning that for a while, if not since the start, which makes his neutrality seem like a planned move.

however, max is extremely paranoid and gets tunnel vision when it comes to the federation, which makes it extremely easy to manipulate him if u know what ur doing. and look, i hate to have to take the ass camera seriously, especially bc the ass camera thing was like improv that they came up with on the spot, so if you’ll excuse me for being meta for a sec, there’s no way the people who put together the story could’ve planned for that or factored it into the lore. BUT hehe butt implanting some kind of monitoring device into someone does seem like a classic federation move, even though i think it’s main goal was to gather info, and the sowing of dissent was kind of a secondary bonus

and as for the code thing, that’s def an interesting point. i like the idea that the code is a red herring, something planted by the federation to serve its goals. and i think that would be interesting if the codes real goal is to give the players an enemy to unite against, to make them feel like theyre doing something and to take the heat off of the federation for a sec. bc most players seem to agree that between the feds and the code, the feds are the lower priority threat, the lesser of two evils. bc the feds don’t resort to violence as much as the code, and their agents can be reasoned with, in a way, even tho that reasoning and logic seems pretty warped to anyone with a functioning understanding of how emotions work. the code, on the other hand, just shows up, attacks, and leaves, there’s no way to talk to them or try to negotiate, bc you’ll just get killed if you try. so yeah def a possibility

but that’s the thing about the codes. when u theorize u go off of the info that u can gain from the source material, things that are explicitly stated, things that are implied, and things that u can extrapolate based on the data u have and logical thinking. the problem with codes is that they’ve given me basically nothing to work with. all i know is that they attack without mercy, they have some form of admin powers, allowing them to fly and summon mobs, they target the eggs for some reason, and the federation won’t admit they exist. that’s basically it. which means that all of my thoughts on them is just baseless speculation. when i theorize about them, it’s mostly just me speculating on a direction i think the code storyline could possibly go in and how it might affect the storyline, but i have nothing to back that up.

anyways that was basically a long winded way to say, i don’t fuckin know what’s going on with the codes at all but it’s a fun thing to think about and i think ur idea is def plausible and would have interesting implications

[asherlockstudy]

Did you see in todays gmm around 15:45, Link says something about how kiwis and figs don't cohabitate and Rhett goes "its a sin if they do" and just stares at him all sad and MY HEART BROKE

Yep. He definitely meant that this way. He didn't look very sad to me but certainly wry and sour. Also figs are a euphemism for gay people, especially in the Mediterranean, and perhaps they know this because Link had this faint smile when he said "I have figs in my garden".

Since we're at it, wanna mention two other moments I found interesting in today's GMM+More?

a) Rhett absolutely did NOT like the crew cheering Link joke. One might say he got jealous because in the end he was saying "why do I never get any of this when I win" but this was a gaslighting joke because obviously Rhett must know why he doesn't get any of this when he wins. When David Hill only cheered Link, he was fine, but when two other crew members came on, interrupting Link from his thought process during the game, Rhett got angry.

Rhett thought the funniness at this point was surpassed by the backhandedness at Link's expense and he did not like that at all. In fact, Link also did not like this addition and apparently Rhett was able to predict how Link would feel. Look how they communicate their mutual distaste .

Sorry for the bad quality, it's a long gif. Rhett watches Link's reaction nervously, Link doesn't want to insult the crew members but he absolutely dislikes this. Unsure what to do and when he looks at Rhett, Rhett gestures "I also hate this but perhaps you should go with it now", Link half-heartedly complies and turns his irritation into a "where is David Hill" joke.

Once Link makes the decision to be a good sport, Rhett follows and similarly channels his anger into a "wow why not to me too" joke.

I love how much Rhett empathised with Link here. Rhett remained in a sullen mood the whole episode and honestly I don't think him losing was the main reason.

b) In GMMore we had a rare moment of Link being a little affected by a woman hehe He was teasing Justine with the good ol' parking lot pickle and when Stevie interrupted to warn her to not fall for Link's tricks, Justine decided to play along with Link "It's my boss! What is it, sir?"

Guuuuurl, all the right words, dang!

"No, don't do that" and the Link!nape touch, you know what that means!

WATCHING YOUR EVERY SUSPICIOUS MOVE

Rhett kept third-wheeling so hard in this GMMore and he was visibly both sullen and amused by his third-wheelingness.

Also salty!Rhett struck slightly earlier when he said the parking lot pickle has become so routine you forget about it, which probably didn't register with Link, because if it did, he would have poured all the pickle juice on top of him, at least mentally. It reminds me of that comment Rhett had done "We are the two most vanilla men in the world" lol and which he had implied again in multiple situations XD