#though that one was probably more for the fact that it makes it really obvious that falin really does look just like laios asfhjk

[cookiecakecookie-cake]

Hmmm.... How about a HOLLYBERRY Cookie x reader dating Headcanon ???

I love her so much

SO. FUCKING. TRUE ANON. hollyberry is so. mwah. i love her. i love big women. i cannot wait for her beast yeast chapter. i hope devsis puts her through the horrors. -cookie cake

♡-Hollyberry Cookie x Reader Headcanons-♡

(tw: brief mention of skipping sleep/meals)

You are going to be picked up and carried all the time by this woman. This is a good thing, because she is very good at holding you.

OF COURSE her favorite way to hold you is bridal style. she wants to be able to see your adorable face whenever! (Does not matter if you are the manifestation of fear incarnate. You will always be her adorable little meow meow.)

There are times where she will hold you in other ways, though. For example, if you are being really stubborn about doing something that is definitely not good for you, like skipping sleep or meals for work, she will pick you up like a sack of potatoes and throw you over her shoulder.

She will then force you to take care of yourself because she looooves you and refuses to let you be stupid about your own health.

She will typically let you down when asked, but this is one of the few times where she will not heed your requests. You are going to love yourself, dammit!

She's very physically affectionate with you. She'll kiss you on the cheek whenever she thinks, "My partner is so cute right now!" which is most of the time.

She loves you and she isn't afraid to show it off. In fact, she relishes in being able to flaunt off her cute lil' lover! (Again, does not matter if you are bigger than her, somehow. You will be "lil" to her.)

She will tone it down if asked, but she'll still do things like hold your hand and link her arms with yours. She just likes being close with you.

There's a special kind of security she gets when being able to hold you close, even if it's in such a small way as holding your hand. Being able to feel you, hold you, makes her love for you feel even more real to her.

She has you right next to her, she doesn't have to worry about anything happening to you when you're right in her arms and safe behind her shield.

When she comes home after a late-night Berry Juice binge, she may get a bit too happy upon seeing you. You very quickly become this image:

She laughs about it the next morning, but you know this won't be the last time this happens. It probably wasn't even the first, either.

Oh, have I mentioned how she kisses? It's pretty obvious, but, her kisses are VERY passionate. I mean, it's literally in her soul jam.

Every time she presses her lips against your skin, her kisses are filled to the brim with absolute love for you. She leaves you breathless and flushed for a hot minute. She loves to just stare at you while your brain is trying to compute.

Everything you do to her is just... amazing to her. Not even the most romantic of kisses can truly convey how much she loves you.

She's a lot like a bonfire. She's extremely powerful, capable of a lot of things, but she'd never use her strength to hurt you. Instead, she shields you from cold with her heat and fights away the dark with her light.

She wants nothing more than to just stay with you, loving you, for as long as she can, together.

[hopecorps]

"as much as everyone seems to want me to be hopelessly pining for my straight best friend, it just isn't like that"

the dialogue this season and honestly just this episode has been so. purposeful and specific. and also crazy. and this line sort of went over my head when i watched at first because i was so genuinely thrown off by the fact that this was a real conversation we were having in the first place

my initial reaction was twofold: 1. who is Everyone, buck? what are you talking about? no one has actually accused you of this. You're the only person who's used any of these words. and 2. you're really leaning on straight here. is it just that he's straight? what if he wasn't?

but. beyond all of that. i basically woke up in a cold sweat and i'm probably in the early stages of cornplating but. buck. what do you mean by hopelessly pining?

who said it's hopeless? do YOU think it's hopeless? buck do you think the only outcome -- IF -- you were in love with eddie (which you're NOT) is that it would be hopeless pining? is it because he's straight? is it because he's your best friend? is it because he's left you?

is it because you understand that tommy would be threatened by what you and eddie have (which is what, exactly?) because it's that special? that big and important? so important that you can't look at it directly?

because tommy said essentially two sentences in that conversation: 1. the competition is gone and 2. you're living in his house. he said nothing about being in love with eddie, he didn't even do very much to imply that BUCK was the one he was worried about. if anything, it feels like tommy was saying like: i feel in competition with eddie. that competition could have been coming from eddie OR from buck. and considering eddie has physically left and buck is so hung up on him that he's living in his fucking house, but he STILL felt that the competition is gone?? i think he was more threatened by eddie than by buck. tommy thinks he has a chance with buck because eddie isn't in the picture, even though they're fucking standing in eddie's goddamn kitchen. so like i am personally saying that tommy is ignoring the very obvious eddie shaped hole in buck's heart, but then buck is defensive in the other direction. he overcorrects and makes obvious his feelings that tommy was purposefully ignoring

buck SWERVES by saying "i'm not in love with eddie. and even if i was, which i'm not, it wouldn't be requited anyway. i would be hopelessly pining after him. good thing i'm not. good thing i don't have feelings for eddie, but even if i did, it's not like i sleep with everyone i have feelings for."

it's all very. out there. they're doubling down on this thing that we've all known for ages but some people are just starting to see: buck has put thought into this. not a lot of thought. i don't know if i would say he's realized his feelings. but i think he's had the thought: "eddie? no, he's straight. that's a relief because everything would change and he's not even here and it could be bad. i won't put myself through that" and never analyzed it further. to me he has the defensiveness of a man who has locked something away

even in his imaginary scenario where buck is in love with eddie like "everybody" seems to want him to be. eddie doesn't love him back. he has shut out the idea so completely that he's not even saying. people want us to be together. people think we're so close that we could be dating. he's saying: there is no universe where eddie loves me back. if i WERE in love with him (which im NOT) i would be Helplessly Pining after him. forever.

so maybe i'm wrong. and he does know. i don't sleep with everyone i have feelings for. i don't sleep with everyone i have feelings for.

[daincrediblegg]

I need all the lore about Lamb and Standish too. When did they become so dependent on each other? Did they ever get drunk together back in the day? Did they ever sleep together? We know he cares about her a lot and feels guilty AND protective over her since Partner, but does he actually love her and is he in denial about this? I have so many questions

OK OK OK SO. I just finished the first book (woohoo) and. I am honestly so thrilled to say that what little lore we got from the first book at least aligned a lot with some of the stuff that I had come to my own conclusions about from having watched the show... way too many times now. And I have to say- real credit to Saskia and Gary and Will Smith for putting it together in the show the way they did because man. I feel like they give us so many subtextual clues and they really capitalize on each and every one of them that it makes doing my job as a film scholar just super fun.

Anways- on the Standish and Lamb situation? I have lots of thoughts. Most of which I wrote down last night in a complete stupor because this is what keeps me up at night thinking about this character dynamic. So buckle up. We're gonna ramble our way through my own thoughts and ideas about all this.

Like to start, to me it seems that they really never had much contact at all back in the day, and that makes sense: considering Jackson's mostly in Berlin playing Moscow rules in the field while Standish is at home holding the fort for Charles, there's not a lot of overlap with each other physically but they did know each other as much as they needed to know at the time: Standish was Partner's drunk PA, and Lamb was the Joe of All Joes (can I make it any more obvious?). What little contact they may have ever had was certainly mostly through Charles, and the show gives us some insight to that giving us that little flashback that Catherine has where she seemingly meets Lamb for the first time after "Berlin's blown" (which could mean either the wall came down as Lamb says to Catherine in his half-confession, or that he's referring to the incident that he describes to Katinsky in season 2, and of these two options, my money is on the latter). That looks like a woman being very confused meeting someone she's never really seen before in her life to me (or perhaps has seen while drunk at one time, but doesn't much remember).

I mean most of the rest I feel like I can glean from the incidents themselves. Both of them getting relegated to Slough House after Charles' death seems natural- Catherine with her near miss of a treason charge and Lamb with the fact that he literally assassinated First Fucking Desk of MI5. And it's easy to see how the co-dependency came from there. Catherine as an alcoholic going through AA specifically, seems to revolve around structure to keep herself in check- the way she talks about Charles Partner in Season 2 helps with this. The fact that he payed for her treatment and in return- probably partially because of this need for structure- she latched onto her job as a way to compensate so that she doesn't end up in the same dark place again. So, then being Lamb's secretary, it's still the same kind of structure that she needs, even though this time it doesn't feel as rosy as it might have done with Partner.

- And this is a point that I think about a lot. She does view her whole relationship with Partner with rose colored glasses, even though if you listen to what she's actually saying in those flashbacks from season 1, she's done his laundry, is planning his outfits, put out his flowers- she was doing nothing more than some kind of glorified paid house wife kind of shit for him (and in FACT! I was fooled my first go around season 1 like I genuinely thought that she was deadass his WIFE or something. I think that misconception on my part says a LOT). And Lamb in parallel to that is a great come down from that mountaintop-that she sees herself and Partner as this idylic Q and Money Penny type of thing that she's romanticized in her head for the last 20 years- an illusion that Lamb on every level shatters and is - at least to his credit- honest about. As much as he inconveniences her and as much as he's his raw unfiltered self around her (which- he certainly is more of that around Standish than anyone else he knows. River gets a lot of brutal honesty from Jackson, but none to do with emotional sincerity- like the way Lamb tells Standish the half-truth of Partner's death, and why he *chose* slough house), as much as he's a bully he's still doesn't give her any illusion of what their relationship is or isn't, and no one would see that as a mark of respect on account of him being an "utter bastard", but is all of that really worse than Charles pretending to be her best friend and all the while planning to have her take the fall for him behind her back? (Personally? It's a different kind of bad but Charles is definitely the worst). And it's extra funny situationally because then all of the things she says about how Partner treated her is much more close to the mark to what Lamb did for her, and things that weren't superficial either. "I know that unlike you, he respected me" ("christ, Standish was right", always updates her on what he knows when appropriate and always has her sit in on debriefs when it's safe), "he showed me friendship"(he always pours out a drink for her that he ends up drinking himself, always when things are going to come down on her deals with it *himself* rather than relegate it to the fuck-ups, always has her up to date on things -unless it means blowing cover), "and he believed in me" (he gave HER the gun and let her delegate the hijacking of the MI5 car from Duffy and Webb, let HER do the cool agent stuff, also lets her do some of the investigative work- especially in season 2 when he doesn't interrupt her at ALL when she keeps up with the camera trail on- but also knows her limits, especially in the house of hell where he stuffs her in a closet knowing she can't be of more use because *he* knew he could kill Hobbs, but "now I won't shoot you dead, Mr. Webb,"), "and he kept me on, when anyone else would have thrown me to the wolves."(which is exactly what he did when Partner died, and all the information came out that Partner was going to peg it on her. It wouldn't surprise me if he took the hit for that too in some way. If him getting her treason charge dropped might also be part of why he ended up in Slough House - which if the op was sanctioned initially by David Cartwright might hold some weight. Maybe that was David cleaning up and covering arse like Taverner would do. Maybe Catherine *was* supposed to take the fall, but Jackson refused to let that happen? But that's just a theory. A Slough House Theory).

But the bigger question in this is of course: why? Why on god's green earth does Jackson Lamb give a shit, and why is he so dependent on Standish?

The solution to this feels multi-pronged. First: I think that he has a bit of a chip on his shoulder about innocent people getting caught in the cross-fire of the things that MI-5 get up to, and Catherine fits that bill better than anybody he knows. In season 2 when he talks about the women agents whose deaths he was directly responsible for, he describes it as something he "wishes [he] could unsee"- which for Lamb is saying a lot, considering that to most things (heads on tables, faces blown off with shotguns) he doesn't bat an eye, and even says he's seen worse. What happened to those women and the fact that what he said made that happen I think affected him more deeply than he lets on in that scene, because even though Charles Partner didn't know who they were at all outside of a codename, Jackson did, and probably knew them very well. And Charles as their shadowy overlord who was just moving them like pieces on a chessboard never had to pay the emotional price for that, nor did David Cartwright. But Lamb did. Because as much as he denies it to keep people looking the other way, Lamb does have a heart, and it's hard to earn but it's not impossible.

And he always does take the emotional fall for things! He says in season 4 that he "had a heart until he worked for [David Cartwright]" whom he also said "gave [him] a job once". The way those lines conflict in tone but also reveal a lot about how he views his own fall from grace says so much. David Cartwright got him into this business, but under his direction he hardened for it (something that I think connects him to River more than that boy will ever understand. Also is what makes Lamb a better mentor than Peepaw Cartwright, but that's another story) not to mention that for all intents and purposes, Lamb and Partner were actually good friends, and that this betrayal and the fact that he had to do it himself (even though maybe his feelings were mixed on the matter- that maybe he even loved Partner too in a similar way that Standish did at one point in time, but the lives lost from his betrayal weighed on Lamb more- and as we all know, from Catherine's own mouth, he'll do anything to get even for his Joes).

Which brings me to my second point: Jackson Lamb wants to be the hero just as much as his protege River Cartwright does, but the reality of their whole line of work is that there are very few instances in which anyone gets to be, but Catherine is one of the rare exceptions where he did, and all told, it doesn't feel good. Because there's a couple things at play here right? On the one hand yeah- he did save her from being thrown to the wolves after Partner died and framed her for his crimes! Yes he kept her from facing a treason charge, yes he covers her arse time and time again. But she still is the person who had to find the body. And as we know with Lamb, he knows how bad it is to have found the body better than anyone (I mean- I point to how he reacts to Min's death, and then to Bad Sam's in season 4- so enraged he storms out but also so depressed he steals his last bottle of booze). He didn't get to spare her from that, but he is trying to spare her from the rest of it too(an impulse he couldn't help but let go in the last episode of season 3- while still not incriminating himself, mind you), and that's hard! Because he's not supposed to have a heart ("What goodness? What heart?", "Oh have a heart, Jackson!") but he DOES! And he's taken it upon himself to break it time and time again just so he can keep himself at the top of his game- even though, and here's the secret: it's his heart that makes him the best at what he does! Because he does get involved! "I think your attention has been split between finding [Hassan Ahmed] and burning me!"- he does on some level actually give a shit about lives lost! Something Lady Di and Tearney and Duffy and even Cartwright Sr. don't consider when THEY play the game. And he cares about the kind of people that have everything to lose from the actions of the people at the top! And he'll martyr himself about it over and over again because he's got the skill better than anyone to do it and he knows it! And to make sure Standish stays right where she is- out of harms way- he'll fucking go to the ends of... idk England. Probably. To make sure she stays out of harms way where she belongs. And as a thread running co-current to that: I think he understands how much having found Partner's body haunts her every waking moment more than she knows- from his own experience, though he's definitely got a higher body count. They all weigh on him just the same ("By the time I was your age, I'd lost a baker's dozen. It was bad enough when the wall was up, but once they reduced it to bricks and rubble, everything went to shit. Whole networks of Joes, rounded up, blown. I haven't forgotten any of them. And I won't forget Sid.")

And then, on the other side of the dice, I think there's also a bit of a self-torture mixed with sadism that's a part of why he keeps her around too. I mean in a lot of ways it seems that it is absolute torture to him to keep Catherine around, considering she's always harping on about cHaRlEs PaRtNeR (who as we have established- it grates on Jackson that in Catherine's mind Partner is a knight in shining armor when really *he* did all of that way more than Partner ever did for her- though I don't even think Lamb would give himself the credit for that he can't stand that she sees him that way when he was disenchanted and knew all these horrible truths about what he did to his own people for money), and part of that co-dependency is (and I hate to say it) is that he needs to torture SOMEONE other than himself externally for his own friendship with Partner and literally Catherine is the only person with a shred of shared history that he can really do that to. And at the same time, she gets to do it to him. He gets to let her torture him also just a little bit ("What did your last servant die of?" "What did your last boss die of?"). He thrives off of that push and pull of torturing others while actually torturing himself. It's his own fucked up emotional bdsm basically.

Now of course to the biggest question of all: Is it love? Who's to say? Can Lamb ever cut the bullshit and admit to himself that his feelings about the whole Partner situation haunt him like his own shadow? Forever attached to his being? Can Standish ever see beyond her rose-colored glasses about Partner and give Jackson some forgiveness before he farts himself into an early grave for it? I don't know but they're on the fucking clock and I tend to swing back and forth like a pendulum on the notion (like I wouldn't say I ship them, but I wouldn't say that I don't either. Secret third thing: they're just really narratively fucking interesting and that gets me off just as well as anything else so? Yeah I guess).

[specterthief]

ah dungeon meshi

[psqqa]

i loooooooooooove listening to madonna's 'frozen' and thinking about jiang cheng, because first it's like "you waste your time with hate and regret you're broken when your heart's not open" and "love is a bird she needs to fly let all the hurt inside of you die" and oh yeah, that's that Good Jiang Cheng Shit, but then the song's "you" is complemented by an "i" and now suddenly this narrative is interpersonal and the mind turns to the logistics of it all. how would this situation arise? who would even be saying this to jiang cheng? what on earth could possibly have happened that jiang cheng finds himself being told by someone that "if i could melt your heart we'd never be apart"? and all of the options are so so so so good:

first up, the obvious: demon-siren-ghost lady. i'm not up on my chinese mythology enough to know what the appropriate option would be, but there definitely is one. cultures love coming up with evil monster women who lure innocent, horny men to their untimely demise. and jiang cheng's one of the guys in this world who deals with that kind of shit. and now he's done fucked up and gotten himself ensnared or whatever. perhaps he needs to be rescued. perhaps he just rolls his eyes and goes "yeah tell me something i don't know" and zidians his way out of it no sweat. like i said, the obvious option. but still. You Love To Ponder It.

second option, and perhaps the most in keeping with the tone of the song: some poor, unfortunate woman who's been sent by some guy somewhere to Seduce sandu shengshou for nefarious political purposes of some kind. she's being paid a lot of money. she's very good at this. she's.........pretty desperate at this point. like, seducing jiang wanyin, the proud, fearsome, ambitious, and super repressed head of the yunmeng jiang feels like it should be totally doable if you come at it with the right mindset and tools, and she definitely has the right mindset and tools, but here she is, in jiang cheng's bedroom, throwing everything she's got at this guy and he's giving her nothing. it is deeply painful for everyone involved and i am having a great time.

and then there's my favourite option: jiang cheng's recurring psychosexual nightmare. every night jiang cheng lies down, closes his eyes, and, baby, it is all happening here. we've got wen qing and jiang yanli. we've got wei wuxian and his mom. we've got every auntie and matchmaker who's ever sniffed contemptuously at him and declared him unmarriable. we've got qin su. we've got jin zixuan. hell, we've got jin guangyao, lan xichen, and nie mingjue along for the ride as well, i mean, who hasn't felt some kind of way about those three, amirite? like the gang is all here (jiang fengmian excepted, of course), all rolled into a dazzlingly horrible chimera flashing from facet to facet to facet pleading with him to bend even as it tells him he's broken. and then every day he wakes up, drenched in sweat, and has to get up and receive fantasy ancient china emails. truly the kind of soul-crushingly horrendous but delicious bullshit that makes jiang cheng one of the all-time blorbo greats.

what a song. what a guy. yeah i'll put that baby on repeat for hours and rotate between these three scenarios in hideous glee. god i love being alive.

[girlyhornywriter]

Enabled

Your girlfriend had never exactly been "skinny". She wasn't fat by any means (not when you two got together at least), but there was always a certain roundness to her that caught your eye from the beginning. It was just enough to make it clear that she wasn't someone who put in any time at the gym. She didn't have those firm edges and defined angles that muscle would have given her figure... She was too lazy to strive for that. She just wasn't all that motivated by food, so she never ate enough for her weight to really change.

That was before she moved in with you, though.

It wasn't intentional at first. She spent a lot of time at home, since she only worked part-time, and you had always kept your fridge and pantry stocked with a bunch your favourite snacks... which also turned out to be some of her favourite snacks. When she lived alone, she was too disorganised to keep her pantry properly stocked, so snacks were a luxury that diminished fast at her old place. Living with you meant they were always getting refreshed as soon as they started to run out, so she didn't have that natural limitation.

And it started to show.

It was slow enough that it took you both by surprise, but she was getting bigger. Every morning, you noticed how much longer it took her to get ready, even as she remained oblivious to how her routine was adapting. She fought to put on her panties every morning, stretching them to their limit as they were pulled over her rounder ass; she needed to suck in her belly as far as she could just to get her jeans to button up, and the strain they were under was she let her gut spill back out was clear even from where you would watch her; she would need to try on two or three tops before she found one that didn't leave the underside of her belly exposed. She blamed it on the fact you were making sure she drank more water now.

And you... agreed with her.

You knew that wasn't the truth. You always took out the garbage, and always saw the empty bags of chips and chocolate bar wrappers that you definitely knew hadn't been put there by you, but even though the fact she was plumping up from all that eating was obvious to you... You didn't want to reveal that to her.

Because then she'd probably stop eating so much. And then you wouldn't get to see her grow bigger.

You had never had a particularly strong preference about your girlfriend's size. Slim, thick, you loved her no matter what she weighed. But this was more than that. The way she was so oblivious to the way her body was changing, the way her clothes were straining to keep up, the fact that the snacks in your pantry were definitely disappearing faster than they had been when she first moved in... It was pushing all the right buttons for you. Sex had never been better, and she still hadn't noticed that you hands seemed to be spending a lot more time than usual groping her softer ass cheeks or squeezing the fat roll that was forming around her midsection.

So you kept your observations to yourself, and made sure to double your snack purchases to make sure she never ran out of them while she was watching TV or gaming at home while you were out at work. You even started leaving some in the living room sometimes, so that she could indulge her appetite without even needing to think about it. You'd get home in the evening to find her lying on the couch, finishing off her sixth bag of chips, her jeans unbuttoned to make room for the extra belly she was sporting... And then she'd ask what you wanted to do for dinner.

But you weren't fattening her up. You were just making it easier for her to do that to herself. It was all her decision, after all. As far as anyone could prove, you just hadn't noticed that you were buying boatloads of your girlfriend's favourite snacks and leaving them all around the house for her to mindlessly graze on all day long. Her eating habits just totally slipped by you...

That excuse didn't hold up so well when you started bleaching the tags on her clothes so that she wouldn't notice you replacing them with the next size up any time she started struggling to pick out an outfit that she could still fit her fat gut into. But still weren't technically forcing her to eat so much and never exercise any of those calories off. You were just... making sure her clothes stayed comfortable! And that she didn't get self-conscious about rapidly approaching the plus-sized range of clothes! Yeah, you were totally just being a good boyfriend.

You were always on her side when she would complain that your favourite restaurants were sneakily reducing their serving sizes. Of course that's what they're doing, babe! Why else would you still be hungry after your usual order? We'll get you a second dessert though, it's okay...

And you always reassured when she would ask you if you thought she looked a little different lately. You look as beautiful as you always have, babe. I'm sure your face just looks a little rounder because of the way you've been styling your hair lately. Don't be silly babe, you don't have a double-chin, it's just the lighting. Your thigh gap is still there sweetheart, don't worry, your belly just blocks your view of it.

You did so much to keep her spirits up when she got laid off from work, too! Bringing home take-out for her to cheer her up when you'd come home from work, telling her she could spend as long as she needed cooped up in the house, encouraging her interest in taking up baking to fill in her now-abundant free time...

You were just being a good boyfriend. It's not you fault she got so fat...

As you get back from work with the three twelve-inch pizzas she asked you to pick up on the way home though, and watch her struggle to rock herself onto her feet from her position seated on the couch, you do feel a tiny bit responsible for what she has become.

Maybe you did enable her NEET tendencies, just a bit. But she has such a big smile on her face as she waddles towards you in the doorway, licking her lips, so she can't be that bothered by the fact that she hasn't really left the house in the past month...

And maybe she wouldn't be so obese if you didn't make her heavy-cream milkshakes whenever she mentioned being in the mood for something sweet. But could the dozens of pounds of flab and blubber jiggling and bouncing on her frame with every step she took towards you definitely be blamed on those thousands of empty calories?

An argument could be made that telling her that she didn't have to keep wearing clothes around the house if she didn't want to didn't really help her waistline... But you stopped being able to find clothes in her size eventually, and she was going to notice her outfits tearing sooner or later if you didn't do something. You think her new au natural suits her really well, though! You love the fact that you don't have to wait until you get her into the bedroom to see the thick rolls of chub adorning her once-flat tummy, or the thick layers of cellulite coating her ass and thighs, or her pendulous tits that bounce against each other with every step she takes. It's not like she seems to mind the fact that it's so much easier for you to grope every fleshy inch of her, either.

As she reaches you and opens up the first pizza box, she stops for a second, her hand already halfway towards her first delicious slice. She looks at you, and when she catches her breath, she speaks:

"Babe... Do you think I'm getting fat?"

[izadi234]

Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English.

Yan! Batfamily x Gn! Reader

Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 (You're here)

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 5

"Hey Dick" Bruce called to his oldest son when he saw him in the kitchen while he was preparing a bowl of cereal

"Yeah Bruce?" Dick answered but his attention was still on his cereal

"Have you heard from (Name)?" the eldest asked

"Uh..." he kept thinking, remembering who you were until something finally clicked in his mind "Oh yeah! No, I haven't heard from them, maybe in their room?" he suggested, not giving it any importance

"Yeah, that would be the most logical answer if they hadn't moved" Bruce sighed

"What?" for the first time Dick turned to look at him surprised

"Yeah... They've been gone for a while now" Bruce explained

"But why?" Dick asked

"Well... I have to admit that I haven't been the best father to them..." he said a little embarrassed

"Oh Bruce..." Dick was about to start scolding him

"I really don't need you to scold me right now" Bruce growled

"Fine..." Dick sighed and stood up "And why are you looking for them?"

"I need to talk to them about everything" he explained "And... and apologize to them for all these years"

Dick didn't like to see any of his family sad or stressed like Bruce.

And yet he never noticed you

So he put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed him a little to try and comfort him.

"I'll help you look for them. Have you checked their room yet?"

"Yeah I already checked it and there's nothing, literally speaking" Bruce sighed

"Well maybe you missed something. You're not the only one in the family who's a detective" he smiled and the older man smiled back

"Thanks, chum" he patted him on the back affectionately

"You're welcome, old man" Then both men separated to look for the missing family member

Dick pulled out his phone and sent a message to the chat group he had with his brothers.

In which you were not included of course

Asking for a quick little meeting, that way, if everyone helped look for you all this would end quickly and they could make it up to you. Even though Dick didn't say it, knowing that you had left and hadn't told anyone and adding the fact that he now felt guilty because he paid you a lot (nothing) of attention.

"Let me understand Dickhead so..." Jason spoke "You called us, saying that this was urgent just to tell us to help you and Bruce look for (Name)?"

To tell the truth, everyone thought it was silly that Dick called them, you were a teenager, most likely you were doing something outside the mansion, you would return home soon.

"I'm sorry to tell you this Dick but, I think you're exaggerating" said Tim

"For the first time I can agree with Drake" said Damian "I have more important things to do than looking for them"

"I know, I know, but this is urgent not only for Bruce but for me too" said Dick "And why are you looking for them?" asked Stephanie

"Look..." Dick sighed "They... they... they left the mansion and Bruce Is nervous"

"They left? Why?" asked Tim

"Did you call them?" asked Cassandra

"Bruce tried but it seems they changed their number" Dick sighed

"You didn't answer Tim's question" said Jason "Why did they leave?"

"Perhaps because they never felt part of this family, Master Jason" said a voice behind them, it was Alfred who had been listening to the little meeting

"Huh? Why do you say that Pennyworth?" asked Damian

"Oh it is probably because you just decided to ignore them since they came to the mansion" said Alfred as if it was obvious

"Hey! That's not true, I used to spend time with them" Jason defended himself

"And then what happened, Master Jason?" asked Alfred and looked at him a little irritated

"Uhh... I died and then came back from the dead...?" laughed Jason nervously

"Nonsense" said Alfred and then left Jason sighed and stood up.

"How do we help, Dick?"

Jason felt like a complete jerk. How could he have pushed you aside? You were still a child for God's sake! And yet he didn't care and pushed you aside when he came back from the dead, being more focused on his revenge against Bruce and Tim. He also felt a little proud, proud that he was always the closest to you, even if it has been a while SInce then. He remembers how you looked at him in admiration in his days as Robin, how your eyes lit up when he did a stunt and how you followed him around the mansion like you were a duckling. Alfred had even taken a picture of you following him around. The simple memory made him smile. He should ask Alfred if he still has the photo. He was in your room, inspecting it like it was a crime scene but he had to admit, you were Bruce's child. This room was completely clean and it looked like no one had lived in it for years if it weren't for the fact that the walls were painted (f/c). It was like If you didn't want to be found. That made Jason let out a small chuckle, you would have been a great vigilante, if only they had given you the chance. He shook his head, trying to get those negative thoughts out of his mind and focus on his search instead. He checked every corner of your room and nothing. It seemed like you just vanished.

"Shit!" He slammed his fist on the floor as he crouched down, checking under your bed. "Where the fuck are you?”

"Keep checking their room, Master Jason?" said a voice behind him, it was Alfred who was looking at him with the same neutral face.

"Yeah," Jason sighed and stood up.

After a few seconds of silence, Jason turned to look at Alfred and asked:

"Alfred... Do you happen to have the photo you took of (Name) and me when we were kids? The one where they followed me like a duckling?”

"Yes, I have the photo, Master Jason, but I can show you more. Please follow me," said the butler as he turned around and left the room.

Jason looked at him in surprise, but without saying anything he followed him. They reached the attic of the great mansion. There were millions of boxes in that place in which they had different things that belonged to the inhabitants of Wayne Manor. Alfred began to move some boxes until he took out a specific one that had your name on it.

"What is this?" Jason asked.

"This is a box, Master Jason" Alfred said as he handed him the box.

"And it contains some things that used to belong to (Name)”

Jason looked at the box in amazement, it didn't weigh much but it didn't weigh little either but it seemed well preserved despite the time.

"Thank you Alfred" he said and then came down from the attic with the box in his arms.

Jason walked into the living room so he could see the contents of the box without any problem. He didn't know where to start but decided to grab a long but thin book. When he saw the cover his eyes widened in surprise, because that book was a photo album.

On the first pages of the album there were ultrasound images that started from the third month. There was even a 3D ultrasound in which you could see the baby's face. Jason smiled at the image and ran his fingers over the photo. He remembered your smile, it was tender and warm and always relaxed him after a hard mission or a fight with Bruce.

On the next page there was information about your birth, your weight and height and other information. There was also a compartment in which there was a small sock that would only fit a newborn baby. The young man smiled more when he saw that small garment that used to be yours, he put it back in the small compartment of the book and continued exploring. From that page, there were photos, the first ones were of your mother and another man, your mother was sitting on the hospital bed with the man next to her while he held you. Both adults looked completely happy while you slept. In another picture you were in the arms of your mother who looked tired but no less happy, the background of the picture seemed to be a baby's room. And in a third one you were in the arms of that man again, he was lifting you up in the air while you laughed, the man laughing in the same way. Jason could imagine the sound of your laughter at that age and it just made his heart beat a little faster.

He kept looking at more pictures of you, your first steps, playing with some pet you had back then, eating (although it was actually a mess but he found it cute) and then there was the picture of your first birthday, you were still so small, but you could see the excitement on your face when you saw the candle on your birthday cake, next to you your mother and that man again. He should have Tim investigate who that man was.

Jason kept looking at pictures of your first years of life, your first Christmas, your first Halloween, your first day at daycare, your first friends. Throughout the album you could see how you were growing up full of happiness, well that was until you got to the photo of your fourth birthday. From that photo on, your mother and that man didn't appear anymore, but instead there were photos of your arrival at Wayne Manor.

At first there were only photos of the great mansion and its hallways, the beautiful handwriting that was written in the previous titles was replaced by that of a small child. Throughout the following pages there were only photos of the property and the animals and there was only one photo where you appeared but now with Alfred, both smiling. You got to the photo of your fifth birthday, thinking that it was Bruce or Dick in that photo but it seems that wasn't the case. You were five, six, seven, eight years old and in your birthday photos there were only you and Alfred, that didn't seem to change despite time. On the next page, Jason was surprised to find pictures of him and you, it was when he had just become Robin and spent a lot of time with you, from photos where Jason was training, cooking with Alfred, reading, and even him teaching you how to fight. Even though those photos were extremely beautiful in his eyes, his favorite had to be the photo in which he appeared with Alfred and (Name) at his 9th birthday party. He smiled at the photograph and took it in his hands, being honest, he didn't remember that until he saw the photo again and your smile made Jason's heart flutter again. With more energy he began to look at the album and each time he appeared less in the photos until he reached your 10th birthday, but he was no longer there, again it was just Alfred and you.

"What...? No no no no no..." Jason muttered agitatedly as he looked through the album

He wasn't in any pictures anymore, nor was his family, it was just you and Alfred again and on more occasions it seemed like more people he didn't know, probably your friends.

"Fuck!" he yelled in frustration and put his face in his hands

Did he really just push you aside so foolishly? No... He had to fix it.

After all HE was your favorite brother

And HE was going to make it up to you

He was going to make it up to you for all those years he left you alone

And he was going to find you, after all, he was trained by the world's greatest detective.

How hard can It be finding you?

Hello! First of all... HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope you all have a wonderful 2025! And of course I wanted to thanks to all of those people that have supported this story even If it has been just a couple of months.

Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. Personally I think it was kinda short but to be honest I didn't had a bunch time to write but oh well.

If you have questions about the story, a comment (respectfully) or even ideas I would be more than happy to know or answer them in any case.

I send all of you a big hug!

-Izadi <3

TAG LIST

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[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: hybrid au, bullying, harassment

♡ GN reader

A sudden evolutionary change befalls the entire human race, turning everyone into hybrids…

And as your bully comes to terms with how much bulkier he's become, along with his new sharp teeth, stronger jaw, and round furry ears, as well as the little tassel he'd grown for a tail, he's also picturing you—his cute little classmate. 

At first, he caught himself thinking about what you'd look like if you were part bear like him, but then, when mulling over the fact that everyone had altered into some type of animal that seemed to complement characteristics they had already, he began wondering what animal characteristics best suited you, and what your bullyable body now looked like.

If he were to guess before seeing you, he'd think your meek nature must have gifted you with an animal equally as pathetic—like a little mouse.

But no, not exactly, though not far off either. 

There you are, in the classroom before anyone else, bright and early like always, as if you want him to catch you alone.

“Well, well, well… look what we have here,” he announces himself, placing one heavy foot before the other as he saunters over to your desk.

You jump up from your chair in a flurry, spooked by his voice. "Oh–hey," you greet, timidly like usual, maybe even more so, as you take in his new size, eyes widening as you do.

"Tch-" he scoffs, sharp eyes looking down at you, thinking you must have shrunk a whole head before remembering how his growth was probably half to blame. "Of course, the most useless person in the world turns into the most useless animal ever."

Your button nose wriggles, but you don’t dare negate his statement. "And you're a—" you start, but almost instantly regret it as obvious an observation as it is, "Bear."

He sneers, "Guess what they say about bunnies being dumb is true after all."

Your buck teeth peek forth as you bite into your lip, bowing your head. "Was there something you wanted?"

With his hands in his front pockets, he stands there for a moment—in silence that only seemed to increase in deadliness the longer it lasted, before stating his demand, "Show me your tail."

You look up at him at that. "W-why?"

He unpockets his paw and plants it on your desk, leaning in close. A grin spread on his lips—fangs and all. "'Cause I wanna see it. So turn around."

You shake your head pitifully. "N-no, that's embarrassing."

But he doesn’t care much about your refusal, only sighing heavily before grabbing your arm and pulling you forward until your chest met the solid surface of the desk, bent over it oh-so-prettily and ready for inspection.

"Come on, dont be difficult," he growls through a smirk, watching you wiggle a bit until settling down, all too quickly yielding under his mighty grip—a display that makes him lick his teeth before slolwy lifting your shirt, pulling it up your back, watching as the little tuft of fur waiting beneath it springs out of hiding for him to see.

He simpers at the sight, then eagerly goes to feel it. 

You whimper at his handling, but he ignores you. Feeling up the softness between his fingers. "Tch–so fluffy… no different from a stuffed animal."

His eyes pan to your face, looking at it cower, squished against the desk with knitted brows and eyes squeezed shut. You’re really just gonna lie there and let him do this, aren’t yah?

"Lop ears are a sign of domestication, y'know?" he says then, picking one of the floppy things up, giving it a rub that makes your whimpers turn into whines. 

"Yeah… if it wasn't clear enough before…” he chuckles. “You're as submissive as they come.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Kyotani, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Reo ♡ DS – Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[kalims]

⊹ giving them flowers

premise. no plot we are just giving them flowers cause guys deserve some too <3

content. fluff, mini scenarios, azul turns into a silly nerd (affectionate)

featuring. jamil, sebek, riddle, azul.

note. actually accidentally posted this yesterday and got a heart attack (also an actual consistent posting schedule...?)

jamil gives you a look.

he spares a long stare at the bouquet you clutch between your hands, wearing an awfully cheeky grin that's chipping off the scold in his throat. "how many times have I told you this?" he deadpans.

but from the obvious fact that you're holding it. it's not like jamil can do anything about it.

"you don't buy flowers for yourself," he says firmly. I'm supposed to be the one getting them for you. he would like to add.

"they're a waste of madol?" you tilt your head.

he answers immediately. "no, just—" jamil's eye twitches like he's trying his hardest to keep something. "don't,"

perhaps he's being a little too blunt but it makes him upset. is he really messing up in gift giving to the extent where you have to buy something for.. yourself? and jamil is pretty sure gifts are called as such for a reason.

and that they're from, or gifted to another person.

you chuckle in your fist, but he continues to ramble; "also it's hard to care for flowers when you don't know much, i don't want you to—"

"jamil hon, my baby, the apple of my eye, the love of my life, they're for you,"

you say simply, and watch in amusement when his moments stutter before they stop to a complete freeze.

a furious wave of heat crawls up on his back but he's praying frantically. now is not the time. he seethes.

... he just tripped over his words.

jamil reluctantly accepts the flowers after you've finished laughing your ass off, and the only thing in his mind is the love.

okay maybe he should pick up a book about caring for flowers. do they even survive in the harsh conditions of scarabia?

whatever he'll make it work.

you should've expected this.

despite your arm honestly starting to tremble under the stress of holding it out for about 2 minutes straight now, you still attempt a smile—although strained. wouldn't want sebek to find it an unfriendly gesture.

even though he probably already thinks that anyways.

you don't want to color sebek in a way that shows that his only personality is being suspicious to everyone, and of course. the dearest young master he adores. (seriously though it's a little concerning, and you're kinda jealous.)

sebek stares at the bouquet in your hand with scrutinizing eyes, as if to say non-verbally: 'what is this'.

you sigh when he just stares at it like it's a bomb. "it's flowers." you deadpan.

sebek pursues his lips, looks away before looking back. "I can see that!" he says like he wasn't wearing a face that made you think you had to explain. but he just crosses his arms and falls silent with a huff. "for the young master, yes?'

he pauses. "I can atleast acknowledge your gesture, human!"

was that supposed to be good? you weren't given the chance to explain because he continues again; "though I will have to make sure that these aren't anything the young master is allergic to." he nods to himself, as though proud for being so thoughtful.

your eye twitches. you're a little surprised that he didn't even imply that it could be possibly a bomb inside to try and assassinate them.. but you notice a slight tense-ness to his demeanor.

you know cause he's huffed about 5 times in the past 1 minute, he's looked away and he's very clearly sneaking peaks at your hand.

—then he huffs to himself! then it repeats.

"I will take them to the young master at once!" he announces with his loud volume, stepping forward to grab it from you but you ultimately beat him. you're just praying he doesn't find you 10x more suspicious the moment you had wrenched it back to yourself with surprising strength you didn't know you had.

even he looked surprised!

"no, sebek.." you heave. "they're not for malleus, they're for you."

he didn't have the heart to correct the way you addressed the young master before he dutifully exploded.

he's shaking away from you with a wobbling, agape mouth. he could only open and close them dumbly, not beir capable to let a word out.

you suppose he was too speechless because he didn't even say anything when you happily pushed the bouquet to his chest like nothing happened.

for someone who's most diligent in studying, you'd think riddle would be able to catch on easily on the gist of your actions.

but he just blinks when you hold out your hand. pretty gray eyes trained on the bouquet of red roses in your grasp, then onto your face with inquisitive question apparent with the raise of his brow.

"we have plenty of roses in our gardens." he says, as though like giving him... these is the most bizarre phenomenon in his life.

it seems like he feels the need to add. "we grow them."

you smile, the sweet thing awfully tight on your face. "they're for you," you explain. a little perturbed that you need to in the first place, but it's riddle so you sorta understand?

riddle squints. "why?"

you blank. "like... like a gift, for you? you know. cause I want to."

then as if the slowness of the processing going on in his brain gradually speeds up. it's obvious he's probably realized the implications of your little gift from the jolt, then widened eyes who stare in disbelief.

riddle gulps. "for, me?" he asks stupidly.

your raised brows say yes.

it's almost hilarious when he accepts them gratefully and stares at them like you just sprouted a literal white rose from the ground, wrapped it in some fancy plastic, and then handed it to him with a smile.

silence ensues again. riddle notices, screeches in his head to do something about it except he can't, cause his mind seems to be broken right now and he can't exert any words but a stammer.

and he'd really like to relearn how to speak because you're fidgeting on the spot, clearly nervous by his silence.

"sorry," you chuckle. "um.. it's just red roses, not white, or blue, or pink—"

"no!" he blurts out far too quickly. hands stretched out in the air a little as though reaching out to stop you but then stiffly staying by his side. riddle clears his throat. "I mean... this is... very important to me."

you look like you don't really believe him cause he was going off about roses in his dorm before.

he flushes, away from your gaze. "because its from you."

you can barely see azul.

or gauge out his reaction if it's supposed to be good or bad, because you can barely even see his eyes from all the sudden sheen of white over it. did all the smoke in the room just gravitate over his glasses conveniently or something?

you can spot the joints in his fingers twitching but oddly enough he remains stiff in front of you. uncharacteristically silent, which wouldn't really lead to good things.

"hello?" with your free hand, devoid of any flowers with the power of freezing a person. you wave it in front of his face which seems to have done a pretty good job with snapping him out of whatever trance he's in.

the glasses slip down the bridge of his nose but he fixes them at record speed. admittedly with clammy fingers.

azul coughs. "thank you very much." he clutches them tighter, pursuing his lips.

"I know octavinelle is not the best place for warmer places," he starts and a flash of confusion on your face is something he misses. "but I will manage it and find an accommodation for these, around 34 or 35 degrees."

your brows furrow. what.

"hmm yes... a nice vase, I'll use the most pure water there is." he rants. "then I'll fill it up with two thirds of its container and make sure it lives healthy."

that's... concerning.

"I'll have jade clean it regularly." he says and you're honestly more scared for the flowers. "I cannot trust floyd either so I'll trim it by two centimeters at the right angle occasionally when it dries."

he says all that, with a pink face.

you awkwardly stand there taking in azuls apparent plans on how to ensure the lifespan of your 'thoughtful' gift will be extended as far as he can help in to commerce your honor.

[sublimati0ns]

daily koss #29: if we only have one shot… better make it count, right?

Since I started on the 18th of February, today marks the one month anniversary of me drawing these wretched old men every day!!! I wanted to make something special for it, so I tried my hand at a comic (even though I am NOT good at comics—dear god, paneling is so unintuitive for me that I ended up wrangling this into a webtoon format just to avoid it).

Despite the increasing level of render and polish on my dailies over the past two weeks, this is the first time I’ve really, actually tried to flex my art muscles and apply my braincells to a piece 😂 Here’s to hoping my work paid off! I have now, officially, moved from low-effort shitposts to real-effort seriousposts 😔

(Also, if you’ve never read a webtoon before, hopefully the long-scroll format wasn’t too jarring! >_<)

A meta aspect I love about KOSS is that Transformers is a multi-timeline franchise: Knock Out and Starscream exist across multiple different continuities, sometimes alongside each other, sometimes not. But they only really ‘work’ in TFP, despite them both having other characters as constants (Breakdown, Megatron). If this were any other world, and they were any other versions of themselves, they might not even have been coworkers—just ships passing in the night.

And yet, the perfect storm of random events led to them being in one thing together, with a compelling dynamic at that (even an entire episode that puts it on blast!!!). Sometimes I think about how, according to the TFP artbook, Knock Out was originally conceived as something of a counterpart to Bumblebee—another fast, pretty car, except a villain this time—but the writers ended up fleshing out his relationship with Starscream the most. I wonder what the thought process behind that was—did the devs find their dynamic fun to play with as well?—and whether the two would get more moments together if Prime wasn’t cancelled…

But I digress! The fact I discovered TFP in the first place is the cherry on top of the serendipity-cake; I never imagined I’d ever get into Transformers, but one impulsive ‘hey, what if we watched the new Transformers movie’ from Lacuna at 3AM in the dead of January changed the trajectory of my life.

I’ve always been really bad at committing to projects for over a month at a time—I often find myself burnt out and restless after only a few days, even. So to still have so much drive and inspiration to create fanworks—for KOSS, of course, but an assortment of other pairings and properties too—is such a novel and exciting experience. My tune may change at a moment’s notice (I can be very fickle), but for now I’m eager to keep scribbling on 🥰I already have something planned for the next week of Daily KOSS hehehe~

Anyway, things referenced in the comic!

G1 cartoon s01e13 “Fire in the Sky”

2019 IDW continuity Tread & Circuits issues 2, 3, and 4

Armada episode 48

TFA s02e03 “Mission Accomplished” and s03e13 “Endgame II”

2005 IDW continuity “Choose Me,” Spotlight: Megatron, and Annual 2017 “Chosen One”

And it’s probably obvious from the art, but I love the juxtaposition of Starscream being tortured by god in every other universe while Knock Out is either happily married or doesn’t exist.

[et6rnalsun]

YOU GON’ MAKE ME FALL IN LOVE FOR A WHILE (WOULD YOU FUCK ME?)

is your best friend really your best friend or is it just a way to cover the sexual tension that drowns out your lost common sense? good question.

95% of the time matt wanted to give in to that burning temptation, the other 5% he just did it carelessly.

that five percent had manifested itself on a saturday night filled with boredom and complete dullness, nothing interesting or stimulating enough to completely turn the day around — except for chris animatedly yapping about his umpteenth failed talking stage of the month downstairs. you were lying on matt’s bed while he absentmindedly fixed his hair in the mirror, getting ready to go out after hours of begging him to do so.

on one hand, he was also desperately trying not to look in your direction. christ, you should realize on your own that you were in a position far too provocative for any human with an ounce of hormones. you were lying on your stomach, shirt slightly hiked up to reveal your soft skin, back arched enough to highlight your curves that he drooled over daily. he had to get a grip.

“please, go and try not to wear emo clothes,” you subtly teased, your cheek snugly pressed against the palm of your hand as you turned your body more to watch him get ready. he just rolled his eyes at that, the sassiness of it enough to make you chuckle. “i’m not emo. black jus’ suits me” he turned to meet your gaze just as he was putting on his chain, his head bowed slightly. “plus i thought you liked it?”

you scoffed, but a smirk still tugged at the corners of your mouth. “i do” you shrugged, your eyes trailing down his frame and the way the chain dangled down his neck — making him shiver at the mere gesture. as you watched and talked to him, you noticed his obvious struggle in putting the thing on, probably not being able to latch it. so you stood up, adjusting your shirt that was out of place after laying down in that way, before approaching him.

“you could ask for help” you positioned yourself behind him, raising yourself slightly on tiptoe to latch the chain.

he chuckled lightly at the fact that you immediately sensed his need, and turned to look at you. he tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “alright, thanks,” he trailed, licking his lips. “you read my mind or somethin’?” you felt small under his gaze, and you crossed your arms instinctively, “it was simply a pitiful scene. anyone would’ve understood”

but his hands automatically rested on your arms seconds after your gesture, slowly unwrapping and bringing them up to move around his neck—his rings touching your skin made your stomach knot even tighter.

how the fuck were you supposed to react? you hugged each other often, yes, but this was too intimate to not miss a heartbeat or two. “are you tryin’ to suffocate yourself with my hands?” you tried to joke about it, easing the strange tension that was building between you.

matt was only fueling the tension, though. the fact that his hands had subsequently moved down your waist wasn’t helping; your bodies now close enough to touch, breaths mingling with each other. “you can try,” he replied, breathing a little too heavy as he took in your scent.

you rolled your eyes, trying not to meet his gaze. “looks like you want simple affection to me”

“maybe” but no, he didn’t. his touch felt too urgent to be something as simple as some friendly affection. you felt his hands squeezing your hips a little too tightly, fingertips digging into your skin little by little, desperate to feel you closer. and the heat of his body was strong enough to reveal his true state of mind. “it’s not weird for me to want it”

your arms wrapped around his neck more properly for a hug, letting your fingers sink lazily into his messy hair. “you’re right” you murmured lowly, letting him melt into you. you tried to ignore how his lips then trailed along your jaw to reach your neck, skin exposed by the position of your head, their softness sending little shivers down your spine. he had started leaving wet kisses, actions a little bolder after feeling how you tightened your grip on his locks, enough to make him let out a quiet hum against your throat. the sound made you head spin, your body responding to his touch before your mind could catch up.

"you feel so good," matt sighed, voice husky as his lips grazed your pulse. your own breathing was uneven now, your fingers threading through his hair as you let your head tilt further, offering him more—silent permission. his grip on your waist tightened slightly, and he let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin. “is this okay?"

“not really, no” your back was now leaning against the wall of his room, and you felt too much of a prisoner in those actions that seemed simply wrong for someone who had been your bestfriend for so long.

he raised an eyebrow, pulling away from your neck with a small and wet pop—the sound of his mouth letting go of the patch of skin he’d sucked and bit to leave a mark. “no?” he was skeptical, not believing your words. “bet you’re so wet as you say this”

you pressed your legs together. “i’m not gettin’ wet for this little” you challenged subtly, trying to keep your breathy tone hidden. you were pretty sure that your panties were now stained from the desire he had made you feel in just a few minutes, and you could clearly feel it dripping in a sinful, haunting way.

he placed a hand on your leg, slowly running his fingers up to where your shorts ended, moving closer to your inner thigh. “i think i should touch to see if you’re lyin’ or not”

you beat him into the game, placing your hand over the bulge of his pants, the corners of your lips turning up in a smirk as you slowly tightened your grip. “well, you’re so hard” you hummed, watching as his face changed with his lip bitten so hard by his teeth you were sure you’d see blood soon. “so you can’t really talk about me bein’ wet”

“no shit” he breathed out, placing a hand over yours to move it slightly, groaning softly at the sensation. you followed the way he guided your hand, squeezing it ever so slightly as it strained against the fabric of his jeans, begging to come out. he then rested his forehead against your shoulder, moaning against it, moving his hips to feel more.

“you’re not goin’ to cum on me, are you?” you teased.

matt rolled his eyes, both in pleasure and annoyance. “you think i’m that pathetic?”

before you could nod at his words and answer positively to the question, chris's shrill voice reached your ears from downstairs; “move your ass! i’m hungry and i’m not gon wait for you to finish fuckin’”

you pulled away with a giggle, taking advantage of his almost weak state to push him aside and free yourself from the wall he had created with his body that blocked your way. “you heard him” you shrugged as if you were innocent — as if you weren’t leaving him with a dripping boner, a white stain ruining the front of his pants. by the time he turned to react to everything that happened in a matter of seconds, you already disappeared down the stairs.

“fuckfuckfuck” he cursed under his breath, looking down at the mess you made. he was only going to die only after he made you pay for it, he was sure of it.

[sirxlla]

You're A Villains Daughter + Them Falling In Love With You (Batboys)

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Dick: Being a police officer he had seen you in and out of the police station. Your hair had been bleached so many times to the point it was falling out. Your father was amazing when he was taking his medication, but the second he forgot, he slipped back into that other persona, the Mad Hatter. He would go crazy and start claiming that you were Alice, and any bit of hair that you had grown out would be bleached, you'd have to dress a certain way to appease him and calm him down.

Oftentimes, you could usually get him back on his medication, but there were days that he would put you in the most dangerous predicaments. Either the cops would be called or Batman and Nightwing would show up.

"I know you love him, and I know you want to take care of him, but the best thing for him is for him to be put in an institution. I'd hate to see the day that we don't show up in time." Dick spoke honestly with a clear sign of worry in his voice. He shrugged off his coat and put it upon your shoulders.

"You're a pretty woman and I hate to see pretty women cry, much less hurt..." He had such a warm smile on his face; when most of the cops tried to comfort you, they tended to sound creepy even though they said similar things, but there was something in the tonality of his voice that sounded genuine and sweet. His thumb gently brushed tears off your cheeks.

You had finally listened to Dick about putting your father into an institution where they could take care of him and make sure he takes his medication. It was expensive, but it was nothing like Arkham.

Dick found out easily that you had been forced to move into a really shitty small apartment in a not-so-good part of Gotham; when he looked up your father on his work computer, he found that he'd been put in an extremely nice institution and realized that you were probably struggling with money.

He found their phone number and called the institution. Dick made sure that every month he would be the one to pay for your father's treatment and stay, the institution wouldn't tell you who had put forth the money, but after a while, you wore them down and soon as you figured out who it was, it brought tears to your eyes. This sweet cop, the one that had put his jacket around your shoulders.

You found your way to his work and quickly offered him dinner, it was 'the least you could do' you had said. Dinner was lovely and the both of you clicked the same way you did every other time you two had met up. He gave you that same safe feeling and those same butterflies when he's compliment you.

Obviously, one date led to another. He was more than happy to take care of you and to make sure that you never had to take care of your father alone again.

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Jason: Bruce had requested that Jason join him on a mission to Simon Stagg's labs. The both of them follow down such a long path of what looks like abandoned laboratories and vacant cells.

"Bruce, there's clearly nothing here we should just split." Jason wasn't entirely happy with the fact that he had to look for paperwork and investigate around the old and what seemed to be a barren laboratory; he'd rather be kicking ass.

"I mean it looks like the goddamn Back Rooms in here." Jason huffed with obvious irritation.

That feeling just about vanished as he made it down a corridor where he saw a glass room with a woman inside. Her skin was green, and she looked so similar to a villain he had seen before, one that tended to prefer eco-terrorism to the safety of human beings.

"Bruce! Bruce, there's a girl! We have to get her out of here." His voice started shaking, he was suddenly extremely worried about her...maybe it was how skinny and malnourished she looked? The hunger and thirst, he had seen that quite often before Bruce took him off the streets.

Jason pushed away the chairs that were sitting in front of the glass. He dreaded to think what they were used for, but he pushed the thoughts away. He gently tapped on the glass, hoping you would answer him. He could see the monitors attached to you and see that you were still alive, but every monitor seemed exceedingly slow.

"Sweetheart, I need you to look at me." He asked before your eyes fluttered open with confusion, it had seemed like months since you even spotted a single fly.

"That's it. Good girl, that's all I need from you I just need you to stay awake. We're going to get you out of here, I promise." Jason looks through the folder that sat within the container on the wall; he's desperate to figure out a way to get you out of there. He finds out who your mother is, Poison Ivy... the rest of the things he finds are vile and disgusting, but he pushes past it trying to find a way to get you out of there.

Jason then handed the file to Bruce and punched the combination into the keypad on the wall before rushing into the room that contained you.

"Jason! No, she could be dangerous!"

"Look at her, Bruce, she's too exhausted to be even remotely dangerous. She's been left alone here for lord knows how long." Jason disregards any part of him that tells him not to pick you up. He scoops are up and gently guides you out of the hell hole she was residing in.

"It's all right now, Babygirl, I got you. Jason speaks almost as if in quiet whispers; Bruce had never seen him be so soft and gentle to a stranger unless it was a little kid or something.

Jason took on every single duty of taking care of you. He would help nurse you back to health, and he would change your saline drip as often as it needed to be. His eyes lit up the first time he got you outside and your skin started turning even more green as if thriving in even the most minuscule amount of sunlight. He was there for you in every sort of moment of need you had. You're beautiful, gentle and kind, and he be damned if he ever let anything happen to you. In his mind suffered more than enough.

He is extremely attentive to you and anytime you notice a shiver he would cover you with a blanket or his jacket. The second he heard your stomach growl or even the slightest indication that you were thirsty, he handled it immediately.

Dick wanted to introduce you to everyone and Jason made sure that you understood that you didn't have to if you didn't want to. They invited you to watch a movie, but considering how exhausted you were, you ended up falling asleep on Jason's chest, his fingers brushing through your hair like it was natural for him. Not a single person in that room couldn't see the fact that he was falling so deeply in love with you.

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Bruce: Bruce was running a few samples, he heard of what Scarecrow had done. Crane had been slipping a new version of fear toxin into several other drugs around Gotham.

Normally, he would go to Mr Freeze, but because his wife just recently got unfrozen and they were putting her through bouts of therapy for her case of Huntington's disease, he didn't want to bother him.

Victor had recommended a young doctor from Gotham General, Y/N Strange. The daughter of Hugo Strange, but from what he could tell, you didn't have much to do with your father anymore.

Bruce sent the samples over before he showed up several hours later. You had never seen Batman in person so it was a bit startling to see such a tall man clad in black, his blue eyes peaking out from under that black mask.

"Ah, Hello...Um, Mr. Batman." It was obvious you were nervous, and in a way, he thought it was really cute but he ignored tge feeling for now.

"Did you receive my package?" His voice deep and menacing.

"Oh, of course, I received everything. If I'm honest I never expected to receive a package from Batman but anyways..." In a way you were trying not to fangirl. 'Batman needs my help? Oh wow!' But you tried to pull it together.

"Yes, of course, Mr Batman, I cross-referenced the drugs that you sent me via the test tubes, and I...um, it would appear to be a Ecstasy, Heroin, and Weed... of course, they've been modified, so there's a component in here that looks to be Datura. Datura plants contain tropane alkaloids such as scopolamine, hyoscyamine, and atropine, which has led to their use in some cultures as a poison and as a hallucinogen for centuries. It would seem, from as far as I can tell, that this is what is also contained in these drugs. The hallucinations can be just downright terrifying."

He tries to look as if he understands but some of these words he's just not picking up on. Maybe it's because he's tired or maybe it's just that he doesn't understand or it could possibly be by the fact that he is distracted by how cute you look in that white lab coat but he's not going to let that show.

Even after Mr. Freeze is back in working order, has got a job at a very similar lab and has started to redeem himself for his past issues, Bruce still goes back to you for information everytime.

You find yourself in the elevator going from one level to another, and who pops in but Bruce Wayne? There wasn't a single person in Gotham who didn't know who Bruce Wayne was. In a bit of shock, you dropped all your papers all over the ground.

"Oh my god, Mr. Bruce. I am so sorry." You said as you kneeled down to pick up all of your papers. He joined you on his knees, helping you with all of the papers, his hand brushed against yours.

It was nice to be able to touch your skin and not have the barrier of a glove between the two of you, he thought.

"I- um, I usually don't ask out strangers, but if you would like to... I- I believe there's a connection between us." Bruce said as he gave you his card as he got out of the elevator, he knew what the connection was obviously, but you were none the wiser.

'Did that just happen? Did Bruce Wayne just ask me out? Oh my God. Oh my God!"

You didn't question it when you found your phone number. You had thought, 'Of course, he's got connections. He's Bruce Wayne.'

The date was lovely, and he found himself extremely entranced by the way that you talked about the things that you were passionate about, even if he didn't understand what you were saying. He also found it extremely adorable the way that you seemed to be so nervous around him but relaxed as the night went on. It didn't matter that you were Hugo Strange's daughter; you were adorable and he found himself completely enchanted by you.

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Tim: He had been hacked, which was really odd considering the fact that he had top-of-the-line security equipment on his computer, and not even he could hack it. The second that it happened, he knew he needed to figure out who did this, not only out of admiration but because someone with this skill could be a danger to Gotham or anyone they pleased really.

He found a really old way to track an IP address that most people didn't even use anymore so most hackers didn't protect themselves against it and you weren't an exception to that rule. He found your name and information, Y/N Nygma. The Riddler's Daughter?

It took a lot of time and doing, but he got the both of you sending messages back and forth, leaving little bread crumbs for each other to find like a little game, it was fun. He could sense you didn't have a desire to harm anyone so he talked to Bruce and offered you an opportunity to get away from your father and his dirty deeds.

You loved your father and of course you didn't want to have to leave him but recently he's been acting psychotic, controlling and dangerous so you lept at the opportunity.

"You must be DxrthSkywxlker." You said as the man approched.

"Only if you are ButtSniffler2000." He said jokingly, his voice was just as you imagined it, smooth and playful.

"Oh, my god. No, but I guess I got the right guy." You laughed, that was something that drew you to him was the fact that he made you laugh so easily with such the dumbest things.

"Yeah, That's me. Honest to God, I didnt expect you to be a girl." He was swooning as soon as he saw you in the dim lighting, your humor and now this? He was done for.

"You're gorgeous." He had meant to say in his brain and not out loud but as soon as he saw the blush on your cheeks he"d realized he didnt say it in his subconcious.

"Thank you." You said as you hid your smile behind your hands.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to say that out loud." His cheeks were turning pink as well.

"It's okay, I believe that if you have a compliment to say someone, most of the time you should. It's just a good way to put goodness into the world especially in such a shitty city." The second those words came out of your mouth he knew he was done for, Tim's such a positive and optimistic person. Having someone else say something so similar to his outlook on life just makes him even more in love with you.

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Damian: Of course, it made sense after he pieced it all together the way that you were so skilled with a blade and the way you weren't scared of him when you first met him.

He wasn't mad, Damian just wished you'd've told him. He laid everything out there on the floor for you, him being in the League, his mother, him being Robin, his dad being Batman but you couldnt tell him this? It stung, it felt like you didn't trust him.

"You're Deathstroke's daughter?" He asked randomly while the two of you were eating dinner. It was out of the blue, he didnt want to give you a chance to lie to him or prepare to answer.

"Yeah...I- I am but I haven't talked to him in years." You wanted nothing more than to put your father in the past and act like he doesn't exist especially after what he did to your mother. Damian instantly saw the pain in your eyes as he pieced it all together.

"Was he... did he...that was him?" He knew the story of your mother and how she had passed away but you never had mentioned who did it. You looked down, not really wanting to find his beautiful green eyes. You knew the second that you peered into them you'd be a sobbing wet mess.

Understanding immediately falls across Damian's face. Unfortunately for him he understood that you may be your father's daughter but that doesn't mean you are your father.

When he initially did his search on the computer Damian was very judgemental but he realized he was being hypocritical because if everyone just saw him as his mother's son then he would be doomed.

"I get it, nothing makes you want to crawl out of your skin more than remembering that you share blood with someone so horrible. It's like that with me and my mother. She's done awful things and she wishes I would forget all of them but we can't forget such cruelty." He speaks from the heart because he knows exactly how you feel. His hand reaches across the table and he grabs yours in his.

"He did it cause he hsd another family and he didnt want my mom interfering. I found her after school one day."

The pain and cruelty of your parents was just another way the both of you bonded. Damian loves training with you it's one of his favorite things to do because most people can't keep up.

"Just admit it you've been defeated." You smiled as you sat on top of him having tripped him and then quickly pinned him onto the mat.

"Alright, Alright. I've been defeated." Damian smiled a mischievous smile before he quickly flipped you both over and pinned you down.

"Just admit it, you've been defeated." He mocked you with a shit eating grin before leaning down to kiss you, pushing his body between you thighs. He kissed your neck, his words causing you to giggle.

-> Masterlist <-

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

BLOCK ME OUT

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: haunted by her ex’s cruel words, y/n wishes she could block herself out. but rafe sees her differently—like she hung the stars in the sky.

based on this ask !! thank you for this anon, apologies that it’s taken so long, but i hope it’s what you asked for and you enjoy it :) <3

(check out my other rafe cameron & drew starkey works here !!)

WARNINGS: appearance insecurities, angsty with a soft ending, soft!rafe, rafe thinking violent thoughts (nothing unusual😝), past emotionally/verbally abusive relationship (reader’s ex), crying, cursing, allusions to sex. (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 2k

THIRD PERSON +

Y/N stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, eyes tracing the features she had long since memorised yet never quite accepted. The fluorescent light above cast harsh shadows, making every perceived flaw stand out even more—the uneven texture of her skin, the way her cheeks seemed too full in certain angles but too hollow in others, the faint blemishes she could never quite cover no matter how much makeup she wore. Her fingers ghosted over her jawline, then moved to her lips, hesitating as if debating whether they were too thin or too full.

She sighed, dropping her hand and looking away. It didn’t matter. It never did.

“Y/N?”

Rafe’s voice echoed from the hallway, warm and familiar. He must have noticed how long she had been in here. She took a breath and composed herself before stepping out, her lips pulling into a small, forced smile.

“Hey,” she said casually.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her with that soft yet unreadable expression he sometimes had when he thought she wasn’t looking. His blue eyes flickered over her face, taking in every detail as if memorising it. She knew he was about to say something—probably a compliment, because he always did. And just like always, she prepared to ignore it.

“You look beautiful,” Rafe murmured, almost absentmindedly, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

Y/N scoffed quietly, shaking her head as she crossed the room. “No, I don’t.”

Rafe frowned slightly, his brows drawing together in concern, but he didn’t argue. He never did. Instead, he just watched as she climbed into bed beside him, her body curling up instinctively, as if trying to take up less space. He noticed that too.

It had started small, the little deflections. The way she would dismiss any compliment he gave her with a wave of her hand or a disbelieving laugh. At first, he assumed she was just being humble, but the more time he spent with her, the more he realized it was something else.

Something deeper.

A wound that hadn’t healed.

Rafe didn’t push. He didn’t ask. But he noticed.

Like the way her smile always faltered for just a second when someone called her pretty, as if the word physically pained her. Or how she always changed the subject when he told her she was beautiful, shifting the conversation so quickly it was almost seamless. If he wasn’t paying such close attention, he might’ve missed it.

But he was always paying attention.

Y/N knew she should appreciate Rafe’s compliments, knew that he wasn’t just saying them to be nice. But she couldn’t make herself believe them. Not after everything.

Not after him.

Her ex’s voice still lingered in the back of her mind like a ghost, whispering cruel words she could never quite erase.

“You really think you’re all that? God, Y/N, you’re so damn insecure it’s pathetic.”

“I don’t know why you even bother with makeup—it doesn’t help.”

“No one’s looking at you the way you think they are. You’re just… average.”

She had spent so much time believing those words, internalising them, letting them take root deep inside her until they became an unshakable truth. And now, even though he was gone, even though she had someone like Rafe in her life—someone who looked at her like she was the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen—she still couldn’t silence that voice.

Rafe had never once made her feel anything less than wanted. He never criticised, never made offhanded comments that chipped away at her self-worth. But that didn’t mean she knew how to accept kindness when it was given to her.

She felt his fingers brush lightly against her arm, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“You tired?” he asked, voice low and gentle.

She nodded, grateful for the easy out. “Yeah. Just a long day.”

Rafe didn’t question it. He just reached over and pulled the blanket up over her, as if shielding her from whatever weight she was carrying. And maybe in his own way, he was.

She turned onto her side, facing away from him, but she could still feel his gaze on her, feel the warmth of his presence beside her.

For a moment, she let herself pretend that it was enough.

—

The night had started out perfectly.

Dinner was casual, nothing extravagant—just the two of them at his place, sitting across from each other, laughing between bites of food. It had been easy. Light. Y/N had almost felt normal, like the weight of her insecurities wasn’t pressing so hard against her ribs.

Rafe had been extra touchy that evening—his fingers brushing hers when he handed her a glass of wine, his palm resting at the small of her back as they moved through the house. Small touches, each one sending a shiver down her spine.

And now, here they were.

Y/N lay beneath him, the world shrinking to just the two of them, just the warmth of his body and the way his lips moved against hers like he couldn’t get enough. His hands skimmed her sides, slow and teasing, as if memorising every inch of her.

The air in the room had thickened, charged with something electric.

She should’ve been lost in it.

But she wasn’t.

Because the moment his fingers hooked under the hem of her shirt, inching it up over her ribs, that voice came creeping back.

“You think he really wants to see you?”

“You think he won’t notice how bad you look from this angle?”

“God, Y/N, you’re so damn insecure, it’s pathetic.”

She tensed.

Rafe noticed immediately.

His lips paused against her neck, and she felt his breath, felt the slight hesitation in his movements. “You okay?” he murmured, voice laced with concern.

Y/N forced a nod, forcing herself to push through it. Don’t ruin this. Don’t overthink it. Just let him love you.

But then his hands moved again, slipping beneath the fabric, and panic surged through her like a tidal wave.

Suddenly, she wasn’t here anymore. She was back in that old apartment, standing under fluorescent lighting as her ex tilted his head and examined her with a critical gaze.

“Your stomach isn’t as flat as you think.”

“I mean, yeah, you look good from the right angle, but not always.”

“Don’t get mad. I’m just being honest.”

Her breath hitched. The room felt smaller. Her chest ached.

She didn’t even realise she was shaking until Rafe pulled back, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Y/N?” His voice was softer now, laced with something she couldn’t place. “Talk to me, baby.”

But she couldn’t.

Because she was already spiralling.

She shoved at his chest lightly, needing space, needing air. And Rafe—sweet, perceptive Rafe—moved immediately, sitting back on his heels, giving her exactly what she needed. But even with the distance, she couldn’t breathe right.

“I—I can’t do this,” she choked out, her throat tightening. “I just—I don’t—”

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision. She felt pathetic, completely unravelling in front of him over something so stupid.

But Rafe didn’t move, didn’t rush her. He just watched her, eyes scanning her face like he was trying to piece together what had broken.

She ran a shaky hand through her hair, her breaths coming faster. “I just—” Her voice cracked, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t feel good enough for you.”

The confession slipped out before she could stop it, and suddenly, the dam broke.

Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she covered her face with her hands, ashamed of how easily she was falling apart.

“Y/N…”

She felt the mattress dip as Rafe moved closer, but he didn’t touch her. He just waited.

Waited for her to speak.

Waited for her to let him in.

She sniffled, wiping at her tears, but more came. “I—I don’t get how you could look at me like you do,” she whispered. “I don’t get how you could actually—” She sucked in a shaky breath. “How you could actually want this.”

Rafe’s brows furrowed, confusion and pain flashing across his face. “What are you talking about?”

She let out a wet, bitter laugh. “I see myself, Rafe. I see what I look like from different angles. I know what people see.”

Rafe was shaking his head before she even finished speaking. “You don’t know what I see.”

She swallowed hard. “I just—” Her voice trembled. “I worry that… that you’re not actually attracted to me. That you just think you are.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy and thick.

And then, softly, carefully, Rafe asked, “Why do you think that?”

She exhaled shakily, dropping her gaze.

She didn’t want to tell him. She didn’t want to open that box. But he deserved to know.

“My ex,” she finally whispered. “He… he made sure I knew what was wrong with me. All the time.”

Rafe went rigid.

She saw it—the way his jaw clenched, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. He inhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to stay calm, but she could see the fire behind his eyes.

“Y/N,” he said, voice low and steady, like he was trying to keep himself from falling apart. “Tell me what he said to you.”

Her throat felt tight, but she forced the words out. “He told me I wasn’t as pretty as I thought. That my body wasn’t as nice as I thought. That I only looked good from certain angles.” Her voice cracked. “And I believed him.”

Rafe exhaled sharply, looking away, his hands gripping the sheets like he was barely holding himself together. She could see the anger simmering beneath his skin, the way he wanted to break something, to scream, to hurt the person who had done this to her.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he turned back to her, and when he spoke again, his voice was full of something even stronger than rage.

Love.

“Y/N,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “I need you to listen to me.”

She swallowed hard, nodding weakly.

He cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. And not just from certain angles. Always.”

She tried to look away, but he didn’t let her.

“You think I don’t notice the way you brush off my compliments? The way you never believe me when I tell you how fucking perfect you are?” His voice wavered slightly, but he kept going. “It kills me, Y/N. It kills me that someone made you feel like this. That someone convinced you that you weren’t enough.”

More tears welled in her eyes. “Rafe…”

“No.” His voice was raw now, his emotions spilling over. “You are everything to me. Everything. And I don’t just want you—I crave you. Every part of you. Every inch of you. I don’t care what angle, what lighting, what bullshit insecurity you think you have—I love all of it. Because it’s you.”

Her lip trembled. “But what if—”

“No what-ifs,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You are enough. You are more than enough.”

She broke.

Sobs wracked her body, and Rafe pulled her into his arms, holding her like he would never let go. He whispered into her hair, his voice soothing and warm, telling her over and over again how perfect she was, how much he loved her, how much she meant to him.

And for the first time in a long time, she wanted to believe him.

Because when Rafe Cameron looked at her, he didn’t see flaws. He didn’t see imperfections.

He saw the stars.

And maybe, just maybe, she could learn to see them too.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was such a cute and emotional one :’) i had this written up before i went away but finally got to editing it, just spending eh next couple days editing and posting the requests in my drafts !!

i hope this is what you asked for anon !! and as always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated :) don’t hesitate to request <3

[nakoyaps]

unattractive

kenma kozume x fem! reader

kenma definitely isn’t the type of guy to take you out to big restaurats for dates— not that you’re asking him to; if anything you’re both happier spending one on one time at home.

though, to the conventional people in relationships this is a total no-no.

“seriously, y/n? he’s like a millionaire and he can’t spare a few hundred to go out on a date every once and a while? talk about stingy..” your friend, aiya nagged.

she’s always been materialistic if you’re being honest, you don’t even know why you still keep up with her. three whole years of friendship and you swear all you remember is “oh my god, i heard he’s rich!” “ugh, i dumped him— can you believe that he’s only an office worker?”

money is important, yes. you definitely agree on that. but, no one’s worth is solely based on how much they make or how much they spend.

“can you not talk about kenma like that? he’s just not the type that likes to go out.. and to be honest, neither am i.” you murmur, avoiding eye contact with her.

aiya raises a brow, an idea entering her pea brained mind “you seriously think a man with that much money ‘doesn’t like to go out’?”

“he’s so obviously an introvert, aiya.”

“he’s probably just hiding you away from the public cause he’s embarrassed. no offense..” aiya spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, an mildly exceptionally sickening smirk on her pretty pink lips.

“embarrassed— of what?”

“isn’t it obvious?” she asked, motioning to your physique.

“what the fuck, aiya? that’s my boyfriend we’re talking about.” you started to get agitated, raising your voice.

“well geez, no need to get all mad..” she chuckles, “he just doesn’t look like the type to be loyal, that’s all. plus, he’d look better with someone that’s more.. good looking? i’m not calling you ugly or anything, just.. you’re unconventionally beautiful.”

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆

“fake ass bitch..” you grumble, slamming the door behind you as you flopped on your couch.

kenma appeared from around the corner, looking concerned. “you okay?”

his eyes softened seeing your sour expression, sitting down beside you.

“aiya keeps saying shit about you..”

“so what? people talk shit all the time.”

you roll your eyes, “she keeps saying you’re not good for me, you’d be better off with someone ‘conventionally attractive’ or whatever she’s talking about.”

“that’s not true” he strokes your hair.

“am i not good enough?”

“you are.”

you frown. this was a common reoccurrence and you know you’d get another scolding if you said what you were about to, but.. you only live once, right?

“why’d you choose me anyways? i’m sure lots of your gamer friends are pretty girls too..”

he raised a brow, shutting her eyes with his hands “if you can’t see how pretty you are, don’t even try looking at anything else.”

“i’m serious, kenma!”

“none of them are you. i didn’t just fall in love with your looks— sure they played a big part, but your personality really sealed the deal.”

“that’s what people say when they think their partner’s ugly.”

“you’re not gonna believe me anyways, so..” kenma chuckles, “but seriously, you’re gorgeous. you don’t have to listen to whatever she says just ‘cuz she’s your friend. plus, i keep telling you to stop hanging out with her anyways..”

“i don’t have any other friends—“

“yeah, well she’s a bad influence on you.”

you frowned, sitting upright. face to face with kenma, you felt butterflies in your stomach.

“i still feel like i’m crushing on you sometimes. like i forget that you’re my girlfriend just cause you’re so pretty.”

“fuck off, kenma..” a faint blush dusting your cheeks.

as your eyes met, you felt yourself reaching for his lips—

sorry if kenma felt ooc!! i was listening to music and i think it took control of my writing lol. the writing was all spontaneous cuz i suddenly felt like getting back into publishing fics :p

[chatsukimi]

ᴘᴀɪɴᴛ & ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ

featuring: needy!gojosatoru, childhoodfriend!gojosatoru. precious. fluff!, minute jealousy synopsis: you put makeup on your childhood best friend. you learn that he is more than you anticipated. masterlist

you think you know everything about gojo satoru. you'd seen him as a child, two years younger than you, get scolded by his parents for sending a senile sorcerer to hospital. you were there when he first activated limitless and pummelled you accidentally in the face.

safe to say, nothing surprises you anymore. not even when he teleports into your room on the night of your date without even a knock and grabs you by the shoulders to turn you and your chair around.

"oi, stop that."

you strangle him off you. he only grins.

"sure thing." he shrugs, before bending down to inspect you more closely. "what have you got on your face?"

you put the bottle of setting spray down. "makeup."

he ruffles his tousled white hair, windblown. "ah? makeup. are you meeting someone?" he grins halfheartedly, scanning your room for any changes since you last met.

"i am."

"it's about time. i've already dated loads of people," he boasts, his eyes lingering on the powder and blush on the table.

you roll your eyes. "of course you have." you lay on the finishing touches to your face. you notice him watching.

rule one about gojo satoru, when he stares, he's interested. as you grew older, it became harder under those pitch black shades of his to detect where he's staring, but when he really wants something, it's obvious.

you lift a brush. "you want me to do makeup on you?"

he shakes his head.

rule two about satoru gojo, he never says what he's thinking.

you stand up, gesturing at the bed. "sit down." without a word, the boy listens to your command, ready to try something new.

you can't say you're unhappy to try doing makeup on him. you had some spare time left and that beautiful canvas of a face is nothing but to die for. putting makeup on him would be fun.

"i'll have to take off your glasses. may i?"

he sniffs.

rule three about gojo, he pretends to hate it when people ask to take his glasses off, but he secretly likes it. you know. it makes him feel seen, more human.

"do it yourself."

you nod.

taking his sunglasses off, you revel in the familiar ocean which faces you.

another two facts about satoru is that he can't keep still and he can't stop yapping. shaking his leg in tandem with the news from his mouth, the movement makes you shoot him a frustrated glare, distracted.

half to shut him up, the other half to make him pay attention, you grip his jaw in place. your eyes lock. soon enough, he'll probably look away to inspect some other object of interest; he's known you for years, after all. nothing new.

as you work, you think to yourself.

gojo... he's really grown up, hasn't he? in careful brushstrokes, you drag the eyeliner gently to form a wing with the tip of the pen. your eyes narrowed in concentration, you haven't noticed the shallow breath which tumbles from his mouth.

"pretty."

you blink.

gojo satoru scoots closer to you, so that his gorgeous azure eyes are inches from yours. they are widened in awe.

in all these years, you can count on one hand the number of times this genius has focused on anything longer than five-ten seconds. sure, going to jujutsu high has stretched that time out slightly, but it's nothing compared to this.

you know what rule one says about his behaviour, but you couldn't believe it.

he reaches up to brush the hair from your face. unblinking, unwavering, as though memorising everything, the outline of your nose to the singular dashes which form an eyelash, he stares at you.

it is the first step from a boy to a man.

"you are... really, really, pretty."

"says you," you say, almost pushing his hands away.

he sinks his fingers against yours, clasping them in a bone-tight grip.

"you are," he asserts. "how come i've never noticed?" he mutters, furious.

um. you turn to look the other way. the heat of his stare is scalding. nevertheless, the strongest refuses to back down.

"i should've noticed, shouldn't i? and now you're all dressed up with your make-up to meet some other guy." he pouts.

truth be told, you are silenced. this is not the gojo you recognise. in a swift move, he carries you from the vanity to the bed. the display of strength startles you.

"don't go," he whines into your shoulder, shifting you with his strong arms to nuzzle himself into your chest. you did so often when you were younger but-

"stay." he pauses, letting each syllable cascade from his beautiful lips like a bell, ringing crystal clear. "stay with me."

stay with him.

you think you know everything about gojo satoru. you remember the way he begged for a break amidst his pre-adolescent training sessions. you remember the empty hallways of the gojo estate and his silent footsteps, how they left him behind to carry the world on his shoulders.

awaiting your answer, gojo feels his heart beating out of his chest. what if you leave? what if you choose your date over him? what if-

"why?"

he stares up at you again. truly shameless.

"because i want you to." he turns stern. "or else, i'll tell your friend that you didn't actually have work that day you decided to ditch her little meet-up and i'll-"

out of nowhere, a laugh breaks out of you. he frowns.

but then, you press a soft kiss on his cheek, another one on the slope of his nose, which -truth be told- didn't need the contour you'd gracefully put on it, and the strongest sorcerer in the world relaxes to your touch.

moments like these, satoru still manages to surprise you.

"i'll stay."

"promise?" he holds up a pinkie.

"come on, satoru, we're not children anymore."

his eyebrows scrunch together so you finally relent.

"ok."

you link your pinkie to his.

"promise."

getting comfortable, you shoot a text at your friend to move the date to another day.

"i knew you'd stay. you can't stand when i throw a tantrum," he suddenly begins to mumble against your skin. your eyes widen. "i know you... better than anyone..." his eyelids are dragging under the weight of sleepiness.

perhaps you didn't know everything about satoru after all.

gojo opens his eyes, seeing you fully. "i know you can't stand me being alone."

perhaps he knew more about you than you had thought possible.

on second thoughts, you grab your phone from your bedside table, typing up a message you send without a second thought.

sorry. something came up. i might not be able to meet with you next week either. thank you for your patience, but i think i've found someone who i want to stick by forever.

[lvvrmel]

CORRUPTION .ᐟ

DEAN WINCHESTER X ANGEL!READER

PAIRING: Human!Dean Winchester x Angel!Reader.

CONTENT WARNING: corruption, innocent!reader, slightly sleazy! dean, gn! reader, nsfw, smut, oral (dean receiving), mdni, 18+

SUMMARY: dean cant stop himself from corrupting your angel-like innocence.

>> word-count — 1.2k .ᐟ

.ᐟ not proofread .ᐟ

Dean had first met you through Castiel, both of you being angels who knew each other from Heaven. You had been tagging along with the Winchester brothers for an indefinite amount of time, occasionally dropping by to visit and help them out a bit.

Dean didn’t really care for you too much at first, although you eventually grew on him. Maybe a bit too much.

Your constant innocence and naivety was adorable in his eyes, and he couldn’t help but imagine what it’d be like to be the one to take that from you. Could you really blame him though? When you bat your eyelashes at him like that, what do you expect from him? He’s a simple guy, of course he’s gonna be attracted to a cute little thing like you.

Sam found Dean’s attraction to you fairly obvious; with his constant staring — not just your chest and backside but your wide eyes and glossy lips too, his never-ending flirting and teasing he continuously aimed towards you. Although, unlike Sam, you did not catch on to Dean’s relentless innuendos, no matter how often he said them and no matter how suggestive he made them. You were just too much of a pure and innocent angel.

Dean really looked forward to the times you’d randomly decide to drop by unannounced. But this time? When you’ve dropped by when he’s all alone? Dream come true for him. Getting you alone plays a huge part in his fantasies.

Dean and Sam had found a motel to stay at during a hunt, both of them in separate rooms that are just next door to each other, and Dean did not expect to get back from the bar and see you sat there on the centre of the bed. It was a nice surprise though.

He raises his eyebrows at the sight of you randomly visiting, shutting the door behind him while he keeps his gaze on you with that smug look on his face, running his hand through his hair as he makes his way over to you, speaking in his usual gruff tone. “Hiya, Sweetheart. What’re you doing here? Decided to drop by?”

Dean watches as you nod your head and smile slightly at him, sitting down on the edge of the bed with a small grunt. “Missed you, yknow, darlin’. Should come visit more. I’d love to see your pretty face more often.” He smirked, reaching over to gently pat your thigh with his hand.

Dean watches as you smile a little more at him, probably appreciating that he missed you and thinks your face is pretty, which only made him think of you as even more adorable. “You’re a cute thing, sweetheart, yknow that? Caught anyones eyes yet?” He sure hopes not. Dean wants to be the first one to touch you, take that innocence from you that he loves so much.

Contentment washes over him when he sees that shake of your head in response, the smirk on his lips widening slightly. “Oh yeah? No angels fallen in love with you? You ever been with a guy before?” Which you responded with another shake of your head and a small “No.” in that soft, sweet voice of yours.

“Never? Oh, darling, that’s adorable. Not even had a quick peck on the cheek?” Dean very clearly loved how innocent you are, how you’re too precious for your own good. Each visit you make to Earth, the more captivated he finds himself.

“Want me to show you what it’s like?” Dean leans forward slightly, the two of you now very close as he watches you consider his offer for a moment, grinning slightly more at your small nod, enjoying the fact your curious to what a kiss feels like.

Dean wasted no time when he saw you agree to his offer of showing you what it’s like to kiss someone, moving closer to you on the motel bed as his hand goes to rest against your cheek, gently pulling you towards him while he leans in, starting off with a chaste, innocent kiss against your lips before deepening the kiss more, his lips pressed against yours as his thumb gently rubs against your inner thigh.

He continues to kiss you as his tongue slips past your lips, reluctantly pulling away after a while once he decides he wants a little more than just making out.

“How was that, sweetheart? Y’wanna go even further than kissing?” He suggests in a low, gruff voice, moving a strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your hair as you hesitantly nod your head a bit after thinking about his suggestion.

With that, Dean gently guides you onto the floor, propped up on both of your knees as he sits on the edge of his bed, his hands hastily unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans, freeing his hard-on from his boxers.

Deans hand loosely pumps himself up and down a bit as a little precum leaks from his tip, eventually resting his hand on the back of your head and guiding you to his cock, quietly instructing you to open your mouth before placing his tip on your tongue, his hand on the back of your head slowly moving your head forward to help you take his whole length, those cute noises you make when his tip prods at the back of your throat sounding like music to his ears.

Your pretty lips wrapped around his cock makes his head roll back, groaning while directing your head back and forth, gradually getting quicker the more he gets closer to cumming.

Dean pants heavily as he slowly starts to thrust his hips, his cock going deeper into your throat at a faster pace than before, letting out a low grunt every now and then as he feels himself getting closer.

When he finally lowers his head to look at you, it does nothing but speed up the nearing climax. Your head relentlessly bobbing back and forth, your eyes ever so slightly tearing up at each inch you take down your throat, he can’t help but grind his hips even quicker at the arousing sight.

Dean can’t take anymore, the view he has of you throating his dick, the sounds you make each time it reaches the very back of your throat, and the way your mouth feels wrapped around his cock, all just becomes too much for him, cum eventually oozing out, landing on your tongue and some of your face from Dean pulling out, his hand pumping his dick a few times while cum continues to land on your lips and chin, watching your eyes close tightly in reaction to the sudden sticky nut that’s now all over your face.

Dean breathes heavily at the sensation of finishing, watching you try to spit his seed out, probably not liking it from how new it all is to you. He gently runs his fingers through your hair before reaching over to the nightstand beside the bed, taking a few tissues from the tissue box that was sitting there, using it to wipe away the cum that had planted on your face.

“God, you’re a natural, sweetheart…” Dean pants out after finishing with wiping the stickiness off your face, leaning down and leaving a soft kiss to your forehead. He was definitely going to be doing that with you again. It was just too good not to happen again. And hopefully he might be able to eventually go further than just a blowjob with you.