#too bad they're so easily missed

[cheerfulmelancholies]

I only ever read The Great Gatsby from this list, but I never once got the message that "stalking was ok if you have money, or at all." I, too, distinctly recall thinking that being found dead if a pool was fitting for a rich buffoon who needed to get over himself and move on. Critical thinking, and all that.

[cradle-of-darkness]

COOKIES OF DARKNESS NATION WE ARE OFFICIALLY BACK 💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

(long rambling in tags if u care)

[infizero]

god. i miss loona so fucking bad.

[keeps-ache]

was up til 4 writing last night woohooooo :3

[werecreature-addicted]

Ok, imagine this, werewolf is in love with his neighbor, a human girl, everything would be fine if it weren't for the fact that the girl is a single mother of a little boy, and I'm not saying this because it's a bad thing for a woman to be a single mother, I'm saying this because of their neighbors, the other human neighbors have the mistaken idea that werewolves are cruel to other men's children, even propagating the absurd idea that werewolves kill the children of other males when they are interested in the mother. Of course our werewolf would never do that, werewolves would never harm a woman's offspring, so he has to be very careful and almost transparent to be able to woo the girl without her thinking that he is a danger to her or his little son

he meets your child first. he's just trying to carry in groceries, all of them in one trip of course, when he hears a small "can I help?" he looks down and sees a human pup with big wide eyes and a missing front tooth. He'd known that knew people had moved in next door a little while ago but he didn't know they came with a kid.

"Sure," he says and hands the kid one bag to carry as they trek up the driveway. it's a short walk and he can easily do it himself, but the werewolf thinks the boy is cute, so young yet already helpful and determined to prove his strength. what a good pack leader he would be one day. the kid drops the bag by his door and then runs back to his yard to play. The werewolf had never paid much attention to his next-door neighbors but he would start now.

He meets you a few days later and wow. he's never met a human so pretty. you seem nervous, a little frazzled from the recent move, but sweet. he tells you about your son helping him with the groceries and offers to help you any time you need anything, just looking for an excuse to see you again.

And you do need his help a lot around the house. it's hard trying to do everything yourself especially when you're raising a little boy. Luckily your neighbor is always there whether it's to replace some shingles on your roof or just play with your son for a little so you can get five minutes to yourself. you won't lie, you do pick specific favors to ask of him. sure you could do your own yard work, but there's just something so sexy about a sweaty hard-working werewolf.

He's so sweet he almost instantly becomes a part of your life. You can tell he's interested in you, you're not an idiot, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like him too. It's flattering to have someone clearly so into you even knowing you have a child.

You spend of late nights confiding in him and before you know it you start to think you're falling for him. then you happen to mention your blooming romance to one of your coworkers and they inform you, horrified, that if a werewolf is interested in a woman with a child they're known to kill the child so the mother can focus on raising the werewolf pups. The story chills you, you'd heard similar things about lions in the wild, and maybe it was true for all preditors.

you can't help but spiral a little bit, you've been leaving your baby alone with a hungry wolf. but... somehow you don't believe it. He had never shown himself to be violent or even anything but loving towards your son. and you knew he was closer to human than some wild animal. he wouldn't really do something like that, would he?

When you get home you're a little jumpy around your neighbor, which he notices. you don't let your son go over to his yard to play and you don't invite him over for dinner, which is odd, to say the least. but he doesn't push. You feel stupid, avoiding him like this, why should you be scared of someone who'd been nothing but kind?

you go out onto your porch that night and see him out looking up at the stars. when he hears you he waves you over.

"it's a pretty night," you comment sitting beside him, awkwardly.

"prettier with you here," he teases, you feel your face go hot and you have to look away, he laughs at your embarrassment. you're quiet for a long time before you finally bring up what was on your mind.

you don't come out and say "Hey are you going to murder my child to get closer to me?" but instead you ask him:

"you flirt with me a lot, but does it ever bother you that I have a child? does that make you hesitate to have a real relationship?" it's still blunt but it's not quite as accusatory.

"I've always wanted kids, I love your son, I'm not going to run because of it, I want you and you having a son doesn't change that," he assures you. A few months later you'll admit exactly what your coworker said, he was horrified you ever thought he'd be capable of hurting the boy he views as his son, and he tells you in no uncertain terms that he would die to protect the both of you. no harm is coming to either of you while he's here to protect his family.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Head in the Clouds IV

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your first few months in Barcelona

On the second to last match of the season at Chelsea, you get hurt.

You go to ground instantly and clutch at your leg, shrieking and rolling around on the floor. Your girlfriend is at your side instantly, holding your hand and whispering in your ear.

You tear your hamstring on the second to last match.

Alexia, Marta and Patri watch the replay of it happening a week later after they're told that Barcelona are signing you.

"Is it going to be healed in time?" Patri asks," It looked bad."

"She didn't need surgery and the doctors have given her around ten weeks. She'll be ready in time for the first match of the season."

"She's kind of young," Marta voices her thoughts next.

"So are a lot of our players."

"But they're from La Masia. They've been playing our style of football since they were kids. How do you know she'll do well?"

"We know," The staff respond," She's a great player and Lyon wanted her too. Be happy we snapped her up first."

Alexia sighs. "And what about schoolwork? She's English, right? Is she sticking with an English school or one of ours?"

"Her dad's Spanish," The staff member says," She speaks Spanish too."

Alexia, Marta and Patri frown as Paños walks in nearly ten minutes late.

"What did I miss?"

You don't feature much in their minds until your arrival in Barcelona months later.

A lot of the team are still riding the high of being World Cup winners so you largely go unnoticed for the first few days.

Alexia watches you from a distance though.

The staff said your father was Spanish yet she doesn't recognise you in the slightest. Clearly, you haven't been called up for the Spain youth teams yet so maybe you aren't quite as talented as the club seems to think you are.

You're on the tail end of your rehab so you're not in full training yet and no one's quite seen your skills.

You're not the only new member of the team and with everyone else in training, you fade into the background a bit.

"She looks familiar," Irene notes one day as she watches you pass slowly with one of the trainers.

"Does she? I don't recognise her," Alexia replies.

"No. I'm sure that I know her from somewhere."

It's not until weeks later that Irene knows how she recognises you.

She knows your father is Spanish, most of the team know by now but, like everyone else, she'd assumed that he was Catalan.

So, when Aitana addresses you in Catalan one day and you don't respond, it piques interest.

"You don't speak Catalan?"

"Why would I speak Catalan?"

"Because of your dad?"

"Oh! Papa is Basque so we speak that!"

"L/n?" Irene repeats your last name and you turn to look at her. "Your father doesn't happen to be one of the L/n's from Legazpi?"

"He is! How did you know that?"

A little bubble of laughter escapes Irene. "They used to live next door to me when I was a kid."

"Wow! That's so cool!"

It's another week or so before you join everyone else in training and that's when you make your mark.

You're a natural on the ball, easily cutting through everyone to bury it in the net. You receive passes expertly, bringing the ball down and turning to shoot in the next moment.

Most of all, you look like you're having fun. You look like the kids on the schoolyard do. You look like Alexia felt the first time she watched the men play at Camp Nou with her father.

You have talent, that much is certain.

But talent in training is different to talent in a match.

Since the revelation that you're Basque like her, Irene sticks close to you.

You enjoy her company. With your grandparents across the country, it's nice to speak Basque with someone and Irene's wife and son are so nice and sweet and you find yourself over at her place all the time.

It's at the same time, that Lucy and Keira seem to remember that you're English. It's fun to speak to people in English that understand your slang and Lucy in particular seems to light up when you mention that you've played for the England youth team a few times.

With you fully healed from your injury and the first match of the season coming up, you find yourself subbed on at the same time as Alexia.

She doesn't have high hopes with this being the first match of the season and the team getting back into the rhythm but she can't help but watch as you receive the ball in the midfield.

She expects you to be shut down quickly and pass it off but you avoid everyone that tries to take you down, even neatly leaping over a slide tackle.

You go one on one with the goalkeeper before chipping it over.

Alexia has never quite seen something like that before, especially from one so young.

You get another goal a moment later, nutmegging the keeper on your way and then complete your hattrick with ease with a worldie from outside the box.

A game that would have ordinarily ended 2-1 to Barcelona ends 5-1 because of three perfect goals from you.

You're a talent, Alexia thinks as you rock happily back and forth on your feet as you wait for your Nana and Granddad to come down from the stands.

You're better than a talent and Alexia can see you easily skipping the rest of the youth teams to make it into the senior teams.

She can imagine how easy it would be to link up with you for Spain, delivering pass after pass so you can kick it in easily.

She makes eye contact with Lucy across the pitch and the smirk tells Alexia everything she needs to know.

Lucy wants you for England.

"This is my granddad!" You tell Alexia, holding the hands of an older man with a receding hairline but a face marked with a life well lived and an older woman with a stern look and a walking stick," And my Nana!"

Your Nana says something but it's not the English that Alexia expects.

Her stomach sinks.

"Was that Swedish I heard?" Frido asks, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

"Yes!" You say, gesturing to your Nana," She's from Sweden! We speak it at home together."

A thoughtful look appears on Frido's face and Alexia's eyes narrow.

No.

This can't be happening.

The most promising youngster Alexia has seen in years, can't be eligible to play for three different countries.

It's just not possible yet it's the position Alexia finds herself in now.

It's hours later that Olga wakes up to the sound of drilling in the middle of the night. She's got an early morning train to Madrid for work and groans as she's woken up, dragging herself out of bed and wandering down to the basement where the sound is coming from.

Alexia looks manic and Olga's mouth hangs open.

A conspiracy theory style board is screwed into the wall with pieces of string connecting pictures to you in the very centre.

"Ale?" She asks, not willing to believe her eyes," What is this?"

"A family tree!" Alexia replies almost too happily to not be tinged with the edge of sleep deprivation.

"Okay. Why do you have it?"

"I told you about that kid, right? Y/n L/N? Well turns out if she doesn't want to play for Spain then she's got two more countries she can play for! I'm just checking that she's not eligible for anyone else!"

"Alexia...What the hell?! Go to bed!"

"In a minute," Alexia says dismissively," I'm just working out whether any of her parents were adopted or not."

[warmilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

Dc x Pjo

Part 5

________________________

Diana is seething, she's filled with rage, the lies Bruce fed her?

"I'm very worried for their wellbeing..."

"I miss them very much"

"they're so young, I don't want anything bad to happen to them"

Asshole.

She kicked the door of the justice hall down, startling the kids who had gone back on patrol from trying to find (Name)

"hey what gives?" Flash asks

Superman raised his eyebrow "you left so suddenly, mind telling us where you've been?"

She looks at batman's sidekicks and then at him, while staring him straight in the eyes "the kid is dead" she says

"what?"

A silence washing over the entire room

"the lady who attacked your house, that wasn't an ordinary lady, in the eyes of mortals she may look normal, but in the eyes of divine beings... It's a monster, that monster was an empousa, a poisonous fire breathing monster who feeds on the blood of mortals and divine beings alike" Diana thinks about how she'll explain everything to J'onn later, but figure that he's probably reading her mind right now

Her suspicions are confirmed as J'onn nods at her

"your kid, (Name), they're a demigod, because of that they're a target for monsters, they're gone, eaten, sorry Bruce"

Crap Diana thinks, was she too harsh? She was just too angry

Ignoring the fact Diana just announced Bruce slept with a god, Superman placed his hand on Batman's shoulder "My condolences Bruce"

Everyone was giving their apologies to the bats

She didn't look at the widened eyes of batman's sidekicks, she noticed but chose to ignore the sound of Dick collapsing into a chair, she heard didn't pay attention to the footsteps of Damian who had to run out of the room

Cass stiffened up, she trembled as if resembling a cracking statue, Steph wants to cry, but she knows very well that she doesn't deserve to cry over you, Barbara just- it's like she just stopped working

As much as she feels so cruel right now, she knew it was the only thing that will keep you hidden, if not, they'll keep trying to find you

Green arrow crossed his arms, but it was clear he was disturbed by the death of a 12 year old kid "Diana, please elaborate"

"Bruce here, had intercourse with a god, that led to (Name) being born, monsters attack demigods, people who are half god half human such as myself, without proper protection monsters kill demigods easily, and (Name) suffered that fate, monsters attack demigods while they're young and tasty and leave them alone as they grow older, they don't feed usually on humans, just animals and demigods"

It seemed like Batman or more appropriately for this situation Bruce wasn't even listening, his mind still stuck at the announcement of your death

"If it'd make you feel better, you can take a break for a while... I know what it's like to lose family, we all do, let yourself grieve Batman, you might be a hardcore vigilante but you're still a father" (to everyone but name) Barry suggests

Starfire has been trying to calm Dick down, his breathing has become irregular and unstable, switching between deep and short breaths

_________________________

Jon runs after Damian, it looked like any second, the unbeatable demon spawn fell to his knees

"Damian! Are you okay!?" Jon asks

"I-i thought it'd only last a few days... Maybe a week if they're incompetent, or maybe months if we're unlucky" Damian started to cough

He took off his robin mask and took a deep breath "Since there was no body, I was fine, I thought they're okay, maybe a few injuries here and there, but they're alive so it's fine, but- the reason there was no body... Was because she was eaten- by stupid, how'd -" Jon didn't know what to do, between the both of them, Damian was the composed one

Then two of his siblings came, Jason and Tim

"what the fuck? Demon spawn?" Jason was surprised, and immediately glared at Jon, accusingly looking at him for making his brother this way

Jon put his up defensively "I didn't do anything, promise, I'm trying to comfort him!"

Tim knelt down with Damian "what happened?"

"(Name) is dead"

And suddenly it feels like nothing matters anymore

____________________________

"okay! And this'll be your bed!" Selina ended the tour of the cabin

Selena Beauregard, Daughter of Aphrodite, she was your sister, Gosh you have a sister! And she was nice! She wasn't like Cass who for some reason, closed her eyes everytime you tried to communicate with her

Barbara pretended to be busy, too busy, what do you mean you have to work? Didn't your workplace get burned down by two-face two days ago?

Steph- at least she was honest, she straight up told you she' didn't want anything to do with you

A guy with blonde hair and blue eyes walked out of the bathroom, a nice change from the black and blue eyes you're used to

"hey! You're our new sister! The one who was flirting with that Hephaestus kid-"

"Aster! (Name) Told me they were just friends and if they were flirting what's wrong with that? Love is love" Selena came to your rescue

Aster tilted his head confused with the way you're shifting "what's wrong?" He asked

"aren't people in Greek mythology who are named after flowers turn into them?" You nervously fiddle with your fingers

With that some of your siblings who are in their respective spaces burst out laughing and Aster is hugging you laughing whilst explaining that in Greek mythology "the people came first, not the flower"

That seemed to calm you down a bit, then another girl, whose name is Drew spoke up "so (Name) who's your mortal parent?"

You freeze up at this question but the other kids seemed normal about it

"don't worry (Name) it's some game we play, cause mom's standards are high, we compare mortal parents" Another one one your brothers said, his name is Castillo, he had a faded hair color of blue to purple that reminded you of Ramona flowers

(this is actually canon in Pjo, lmao)

He continued "my father was a famous k-pop idol" he bragged

A little girl then shouted "My dad was a model for Designer clothing!"

Selena rolled her eyes "So whose your dad (Name)?"

You didn't want to answer that, but at the same time- this is the first sibling playing you've ever been in, you're included here!

"my dad is Bruce Wayne... You can look me up on Google- but he, he really wasn't the best- umm dad"

"THE BRUCE WAYNE?" Someone gasps

"i thought his name was Brucie?"

You hear in the background

"I didn't know he was an asshole" Aster muttered

"come on bro, the guy parties all day and he's with children, how could you ever think that guy's a good father?" Castillo shrugs his shoulders

"that's okay (Name), a lot of mom's lovers are vain, taking it too seriously in their heads that they slept with the goddess of beauty, that's why mom stopped revealing herself, there are rare moments, but they're rare" another sister of yours says

You honestly feel so at home here...

________________________

I'm now realizing that the "Neglected daughter" fandom is literally so small, I just saw like three of my readers in another fic I was reading XD

Let's support each other!!!! :3

Also the characters without description are canon characters, people who are actually in pjo

The one with descriptions are OC's!

So Drew and Selena are canon characters! :3

Callisto and Aster aren't

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

@wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @nathaly36 @delias-stuff @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7

[leahrintarou]

✩₊˚.⋆ DISTRACTIONS ! - dabi/toua todoroki / 10.03 / kinktober

CW: exhibitionism, teasing, dabi being stubborn, fingering, stimulation, "public" sex, shigaraki finding it entertaining, female anatomy, she/her used, petnames, they're trying to not get caught, modern au where the lov are roommates

Word Count: 1.8k

Author's Note: hey guys! welcome to the second kinktober post of october! i hope you enjoy reading. ily all sm. leave a like or reblog to show support!

dabi sat on the couch, completely absorbed in the movie playing on the screen. his eyes were glued to the action, barely blinking as the plot unfolded. y/n, however, wasn’t nearly as interested. she leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body against hers, her mind wandering as the minutes ticked by.

she glanced at dabi, his sharp features bathed in the soft light from the tv. he seemed so engrossed, almost oblivious to her presence, his hand resting lazily on her thigh. smiling to herself, she shifted closer, her lips brushing against his neck in a gentle, teasing kiss.

he hummed from her touch, still focused on the movie, but y/n wasn’t about to give up that easily. she kissed him again, a little slower this time, her breath warm against his skin. dabi’s jaw clenched slightly, but he kept his eyes forward. she smiled to herself knowing exactly what she was doing, and let her lips trail lower, nipping lightly at his collarbone.

"you’re gonna make me miss the best part," he muttered, voice low, though he didn’t sound too convincing.

y/n laughed softly. "like you care," she whispered, her hand sliding up his chest as she continued to kiss him. he finally turned his head toward her, eyes darkening as he shifted his focus from the screen to her. "you’re a distraction, you know that?" he said, though the small smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him.

"good," y/n replied, her lips brushing against his again, this time catching his mouth. dabi responded instantly, his hand tightening on her thigh as he kissed her back, any attention on the movie long forgotten.

before long, the movie was just background noise, and their kisses grew more intense. y/n climbed into his lap, the soft hum of the tv forgotten as they lost themselves in each other. dabi’s hands roamed up her sides, pulling her closer as they sank deeper into the couch. "the others will be back soon, you know?"

"mhm, but you started this so don't go rushing now." he muttered against her lips. just as y/n leaned in to kiss him again, they heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into the driveway.

y/n froze, her lips barely an inch from his, her breath caught in her throat. "they're back," she whispered, eyes wide.

dabi didn’t seem the least bit concerned. instead, he let out a low chuckle, his hands still firmly on her hips. "yeah, and? we still have a couple of minutes." his lips curled into that familiar, cocky smirk.

y/n tried to sit up, but dabi held her in place, refusing to let her go so easily. "touya—" she started, but he cut her off, raising an eyebrow.

"you really think i'm just gonna stop because of a car?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "let 'em walk in. maybe they'll get some pointers." he shrugged. y/n’s mouth dropped open, a mixture of disbelief and amusement crossing her face. "you’re impossible," she muttered, shaking her head as she tried to read whether or not he was being serious.

he shrugged, clearly unbothered. "what can i say? i’m a man of commitment. we finish what we start." he let himself crack a smile and y/n rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but feel a small thrill. "you’re going to get us caught."

"you say that like it’s a bad thing." his smirk only grew wider, his hand sliding up her back as if daring her to keep going. "besides, i doubt they’ll walk in right away. they're probably going to be busy unpacking their precious groceries in the kitchen first."

y/n glanced toward the kitchen that openly connected to the living room, nerves and excitement twisting in her stomach. it only heightened when he unpinned her bottoms. "touya. no." she said, holding his wrist to stop his movements. "yes. you have a problem to fix…that you also caused." he defended, slightly moving his hips and y/n felt the aftermath of their kiss growing between his legs. "later, touya. jokes aside this is actually crazy." she huffed.

he shrugged and gave her a smile. "okay." he said simply. that made y/n feel even worse. such a plain and simple answer with no reluctance at all. he spun her around on his lap, having her now sit between his slightly spread thighs and her back against his chest. the sound of distant footsteps could be heard, and y/n noticed when he reached for the nearby throw-blanket.

he covered both he and y/n's lower half before his hand rested beneath the waistband of her bottoms, completely still. y/n knew that lack of motion wouldn't last for long given his tone that held some malicious intent. "since you want to be distracting, i can do the same."

before y/n could speak, his hands trailed down inside of her bottoms. "we're back!" twice said, entering the livingroom with compress and shigaraki in tow. y/n gave them a nod of acknowledgement while dabi remained silent, eyes focused on the tv. they each took seats around the living room and y/n physically cringed when the unoccupied space beside she and dabi was taken by none other than shigaraki himself.

"what movie you guys watching?" shigaraki asked, pulling his phone out from his pocket. clearly he wasn't interested in it since he shifted his gaze to the brightened screen of the device.

"s-some horror film that just came out a f-few days ago." she managed to say. dabi was trailing his fingers up and down her clothed sex and the sensation was so unbearable. the fact that the other three of their friends were in the room, just a few feet, even inches away form them made her hyper-aware of everything that made contact with her. his fingers trailing her sex, his hardened length pressed against her lower back, the way his lips were just a few centimeters from the shell of her ear.

shigaraki hummed at that and silence fell over them. twice was quietly conversing with compress, the sound of the movie slightly overshadowing the details of it. under the blanket, dabi’s fingers gave up on the teasing motions and instead, shifted the fabric to the side completely before gathering the slick that leaked from her sex. y/n gripped dabi’s forearm, desperately trying to slow his movements, but it was no use. if she fought with anymore effort, curious eyes were bound to figure out what was going on beneath the blanket.

his digits made slow side to side motions and crescent shaped indents were being pressed into dabi's skin by y/n's nails. the tingling pain of these didn't put him off at all. infact, it only drove him more. he wanted to see how much y/n could take given her determination of trying to not let their friends find out just what exactly they were doing. his slowed movements sped up and she bit down on her bottom lip so hard that a metallic taste coated her pallet.

she gripped his wrist tightly and he stopped his movements for just a second, his middle finger tapping against her bud in a slow pattern, each time making her body jolt just the slightest. "do you like this movie, pretty?" he questioned, a singular circular motion was given to her sensitive bud.

she shook her head and he let out a small laugh that was felt against her ear. "want me to change it?" shigaraki questioned as he caught onto a small detail of their conversation. "no, its fine….tomura-" she interrupted herself by masking a whimper with a small sound of her clearing her throat.

dabi’s fingers continued against her and y/n could feel shigaraki's gaze on her. it took quite some time to leave, and dabi let out an amused huff when he did. "you doing okay, angel?" he questioned, fingers now prodding her entrance. they were inserted immediately as she spoke a response, her voice slightly falling into a breathy sigh.

"f-fine. just shut up and wa—watch…the movie."

"so bossy." he muttered, making y/n sink her nails into his arm even further. he let out a soft and drawn out hum at that and y/n figured that it wasn't doing her any good. "fucking masochist.." she muttered underneath her breath. "mhm." he hummed, his prodding fingers speeding up their motions.

she tightened her thighes around his wrist but dabi was still able to keep up the pace. the same pace that was beginning to drive her mad. her chest heaved and her breathing picked up drastically, but she tried to keep down the amplifying sounds. she hated dabi for this. she hated how he couldn’t have just waited til later on in the night when they could be alone, she hated how he would force her to speak at any given chance just to make her stumble over her words with his touch, she hated how despite everything she did, he still had control over her body in a way she couldn't explain, and most of all, she hated how good it made her feel.

how the excitement and chance of risks only made her feel all the more aroused. how the slick that leaked from her sex only continued to dampen the fabric of dabi's pants beneath her. she was beyond needy and dabi knew this. her words told a completely different story than her body language and right now, he planned on entertaining the one that would make this night a bit more fun.

a jump scare appeared on the tv, and y/n let out a small whimper just as it happened. shigaraki's head shot up and he immediately eyes the two sitting next to him. dabi lazily met the gaze of the white haired individual and barley visible smug smile was on his lips. he pulled his fingers from her hole, using her arousal to massage circles against the sensitive bud. dabi blinked away from shigaraki and leaned up to y/n's ear as his motions quickened.

"think you might've blown your cover, angel." he smiled, the grin on his lips only widening when she leaned back into his chest even more, her legs shaking and tightening around dabi's hand. she covered her mouth, the sound of a strained moan being quiet but not quiet enough to go undiscovered by shigaraki.

his gaze lowered at dabi who was now only focused on the tv, suddenly invested in the movie. almost as if he didn't just push y/n over the edge, her climax still coursing through her body as time passed.

"you're sick, dabi." shigaraki's voice was rough, but y/n's was able to make out his words, a wave of embarrassment washing over her. "i'm aware." he smiled, pulling his hand out from y/n's bottoms and the blanket before his middle finger, coated with y/n's slick made contact with his tongue.

y/n sat up properly, steadying her breathing as she was unaware of dabi’s actions behind her. "but doesn't that make you sick as well given the fact that you enjoyed watching?"

dabi’s gazed flickered down to shigaraki's tented lap and he rolled his eyes at him, a glare forming in his gaze. dabi let out a small laugh before standing which forced y/n to stand as well.

"enjoy the rest of the movie, shigs."

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[artist-issues]

Disney doesn't need to change "the formula." That's the last thing that Wish proves.

What Wish proves is that "the formula" only works when you know why the ingredients are in it, and you use them the correct way.

The Princess Character is meant to wish for only half of the movie's message, and go through an adventure that teaches her what the other half is; what her dream was missing. Ariel dreamed of understanding but she was missing love. Tiana dreamed of achieving her goals but she was missing faith. Jasmine dreamed of freedom but she was missing trust. Belle dreamed of adventure but she was missing being understood.

The Villain is meant to highlight the opposite of the movie's message. Jafar gets what he wants through trickery and manipulation; that's the opposite of Aladdin's "truth will set you free" message, and he gets imprisoned in a lamp. Scar thinks being a King is having his way all the time and can't learn from his past of living in Mufasa's shadow; that's the opposite of The Lion King's "Let the past remind you of your responsibility to selflessness." Gaston loves only himself and is always obsessed with appearances; that's the opposite of Beauty & the Beast's "true love is found within a heart of self-sacrifice." That's what makes them such good villains. (and that clear direction is what drives good villain songs, since Magnifico's is what everyone is talking about)

The sidekick is supposed to compare/contrast with the main character's qualities. Abu is a greedy thief, which is what everyone in Agrabah thinks Aladdin is; when he scolds Abu and teaches him selflessness, it shows us who Aladdin actually is. Flounder is easily frightened and looks at the glass half-full; when Ariel coaxes him and leads by example, we see her bravery and positivity reflected in Flounder's tiny character arc. Timon & Pumbaa do whatever they want all day just like young Simba always dreamed of; when Simba goes to live with them, he finds that "getting his way all the time" makes him forget who he really is and feel empty.

The setting is supposed to show off the characters and highlight the movie's message. Rapunzel's tower is designed to be pretty on the inside because of her influence; if it were too dark and prison-shaped, we'd wonder why she didn't work up the courage to leave sooner. Just like how Quasimodo has made his corner of the bell-tower beautiful, too; they're taught the world is cruel and they're not strong enough for it, but they make their own worlds beautiful enough to hint that that's wrong right from the start. Ariel's grotto is shaped like a tower with no roof so that she only has one window to the forbidden Surface, and it's the light that comes from that forbidden world into her dark grotto which literally makes her able to see human things differently. Tiana's apartment has no interesting features except her father's picture, a perfectly made bed, a drawer with no extra outfits but stuffed with tip money, and only two dresses; both of which are for work.

None of that is happening in Wish, because they didn't know why the formula ingredients are there. Disney needs to understand and return to the formula the right way; forgetting it was what got them here.

Asha learns nothing to add to her dream, unless you count "the power to grant wishes is in me." Which you shouldn't, because we didn't even know she was confused about that until the animals sang a song that was completely off-topic and she had the chance to jump in and sing "I'm a Star!"

Magnifico does not demonstrate the opposite of Wish's message effectively because his character has nothing to do with a philosophy against making wishes, and everything to do with power. (He is the strongest character in the film. But because the message and core concept of what wishes are are so bad, that's not saying much.)

Valentino, and Asha's friends, do not highlight anything about her character through compare/contrast. Valentino is brave and all over the place. Her friends are seven-dwarfs parodies. Happy, Doc, Sneezy, Dopey, Bashful, Sleepy, Grumpy. None of that contrasts with Asha's vague characterization of "cares too much." None of it compares to that characterization, either.

The setting is empty. There are no interesting details that teach you something about any of the characters. None in Asha's home, none in the neat-and-tidy one-dimensional forest, none in the Rosas square, and none in the bland, empty castle. Magnifico's study is the closest anything gets; there's a loose concept that all of Asha's friends have to work together to open the roof, and take a leap of faith to weigh the pulley system down. Unfortunately, none of these characters is shown struggling to work together, OR to take leaps of faith, at all, before this point.

The ingredients of the formula are in Wish. They're just not being used correctly. This is how not to use the formula; it's not the formulas fault. If it ain't broke. They should never have let people convince them to try and fix it.

[luveline]

hiyaa girlyy!! so i have a fic request and it's totally fine if you don't want to write / don't feel comfortable reading or doing it: and also, i'm not sure if someone thought of this yet, but how about spencer just being friends with a stripper. like their are murders ongoing abt strippers and spencer sees reader at one of the crime scènes and everybody's shocked since their sooo sweet and comfortable together? (and bonus point if she wears his jacket or something since it's cold)

thank you for your request! if you have more requests for this pairing please send them my way!

"I tried to call you!" 

Hotch looks up from his phone at the shout. He'd been texting Jessica one handed in an attempt to tell her and Jack that he won't be home tonight, and he isn't usually easily startled, but he isn't expecting you to talk to him. Or call him. 

He blinks back his fatigue —you're obviously not talking to him. You're almost nondescript in your hoodie, but Hotch isn't confident you're wearing any pants, or underwear. It was a rush job to bring everyone out from the club, and you and the rest of the dancers stand on the sidewalk in various states of undress. 

"Can we get some jackets, please?" Hotch asks, turning back to the beat cops standing by. "Thermal blankets? Anything?" 

When he turns back, Spencer's not where he was. Hotch casts his gaze back to you near the club doors, your hair messed up from the scuffle but your face intricate and untouched, just as pretty as the rest of your fellow dancers, and doubly so as you throw your arms around Spencer Reid's tall shoulders. 

"I'm so glad you're okay," Spencer says, squeezing you hard, your heels lifting off of the rain-sullied sidewalk. "I told you to stay home!" 

"I can't stay home, Spencer. How would I make money?" 

"I'll pay for the hours you miss, I told you that, too." 

"Baby, you couldn't afford it," you tease lightly, setting back down. Your hand immediately rises to Spencer's cheek, your painted nails scratching delicately at his skin. "I've missed you. Where have you been?" 

"California, then Albuquerque." 

"Killing bad guys?" 

Hotch doesn't consider Spencer a lonely guy, and he doesn't think he'd ever be collected enough to enter a strip club, and yet. There he is, hugging and checking over a stripper with as much care and tenderness as he'd show any member of the team. And judging by your smile, you're enamoured with him. Whether romantically or otherwise is anyone's guess. 

Morgan's, apparently. "Sorry, I'm sorry, does Reid have a girlfriend? Like, a…?" 

"You can say stripper," Emily says, though she's similarly nonplussed. "I mean, there's no way. Right?" 

"They're just friends," JJ says. 

The team turns to her in betrayal. Clearly, JJ knew about this and said nothing, and Hotch has things to do but this is so thoroughly bizarre that he gives himself five minutes of curiosity; he lets the others berate her for answers. 

"Come on, JJ! When did this happen? How did this happen?" Emily asks, her voice dropping to a scandalised whisper. 

In the background, Spencer peels out of his jacket that barely fits around your shoulders. You wear it anyhow, wrapping your arm through his and leaning on his shoulder. "Thanks, Dr. Reid." 

"I really wish you'd stay home when I tell you too." He rubs your arm amicably. 

"Her old boss was a typical heavy-handed sleaze," JJ explains, voice soft with sympathy. "Spence said he used to see her at the grocery store with bruises. She stayed with him for a few days and found a new club… He said she can smile through anything, even a broken wrist." 

Hotch understands. This part of Virginia pretends to be better than it is, and while you seem happy enough now in your profession, he knows it can't be easy. Spencer did for you what he would've done for anyone. You've clearly seen the good in him, treating him with a real and easy affection, adoring through shivers as you look up at him and ask, "Are you eating enough? You look tired." 

"I'm exhausted worrying about you. You're exhausting. Like, where are the sweatpants I got you? You'll get hypothermia." 

"I was trying not to get murdered. You're lucky I grabbed the hoodie." You turn to the team, as though you've known they were watching the entire time. "You wanna introduce me to your friends?" you ask. Hotch detects a hint of insecurity under all your bubbly sweetness. 

Spencer laughs loudly, ushering you forward with a hand on your shoulder. "Don't chicken out this time." 

"Don't embarrass me in front of the special agents!" you whisper. 

"I'm a special agent." 

"No, you're a doctor. He's a special agent." Your gaze narrows in on Hotch. "Hi, you're the boss, huh?" You eye his naked marriage finger briefly, and he knows you're kidding, but he still has to fight to stay expressionless as you continue, "How come handsome guys like you don't ever wanna see me dance?" 

Hotch puts out his hand. "Aaron Hotchner. It's nice to meet you." 

You shake his hand, though you stay as close to Spencer as you can manage without stepping on his shoes. "Right. Too respectful. It's really nice to meet you too, Agent Hotchner. Can you catch the bad guy soon? I'll end up on Spencer's cough again if I don't make rent." 

Morgan opens his mouth and Hotch promptly shuts him down with a raised hand. "We will. You have my word." 

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Hitman // Accident

Imagine you wake up tied to a chair ducktape over your mouth and the weight of gravity weighing on your chest. Finally gaining your bearings you realize you are haphazardly hanging from a rickety-looking bridge above a raging river by a man in a black compression shirt a bored look on his face and a phone to his ear. You don’t try to struggle only watching wide-eyed as you hope this Hitman doesn’t drop you 

“Really…the wrong one? Fine, I’ll figure it out.”

Breathing is so much easier when he pulls you from the edge with one hand by the way. He doesn’t untie you sighing exasperatedly while running a hand through his hair. Finally, he takes the ducktape off your mouth waving off your barrage of questions. 

“Look things happened and I was supposed to kill someone who looks a lot like you but not.”

“So you're a hitman and you made a mistake?”

“Yup.”

“Are you going to kill me for knowing you then?”

“I don’t have to.”

“Then can I go home?”

“Er no.”

“Because I’m going to talk?”

“No more like you wouldn’t be able to get into the country anyway.”

Turns out the hitman who happened to target you was incredibly too thorough and ended up burning your ID, crafting up a reasonable missing persons case for you, and making it hard for you to do anything in the country that you can’t properly even find on a map. So to combat the absolute mess of having to go through all the legalese and interrogation you’d go through to get back to your life he comes up with his solution.

“How about you just stay with me? I’ve got more than enough room.”

And he does. It's a place that’s like a small castle, he reasons it’s best that you just help clean the place and maybe make a meal or two. You accept not that you had any other choice at this point so he’ll untie you and take you there. Wherever this backwater country is he’s got a home filled with villagers who are happy to care for it. And in a language you don’t recognize they celebrate it when he brings you home, cheering and excitedly holding your hands. He can’t help but laugh at you while you try to figure things out.

“Hey! What was she saying before?”

“You really shouldn’t just blindly nod to what people are saying. That’s what gets you in trouble.”

“What else am I supposed to do?! She was smiling so wide it must’ve been something nice, right?”

“Hahaha, you're hopelessly adorable.”

When this Hitman is not sitting around laughing at you or mistranslating your requests, he’s not so bad. As the only one who understands what you’re saying and can actually respond to you in a rewarding way. Dismissing that he ruined your everyday life, he’s decent company usually smirking to himself while he makes fun of whatever you're doing. 

“That hat is way too big for you and so are your clothes. It’s kinda cute.”

“It’s not cute! For whatever reason nobody will give me anything other than your clothes it’s really inconvenient.”

“How do you know they're mine?”

“Because they smell like–”

“Awwww are you smelling me in your free time (Y/n)?”

“NO! Wait it’s just an observation—”

“Ewww so perverted (Y/n)~”

When he’s not around to mess with you, he’s off to work. Wearing those same tight-fitted pants he did when you first woke up. It’s…a little sad sometimes. He is the only one you can easily communicate with but you manage to enjoy the thousands of books he has in his home, hang out with the kittens of the farm, and slowly but surely get a grasp on the language all the villagers speak. Maybe one day you can surprise him by being able to call him out the next time he tries to humiliate you to the villagers. It certainly keeps you occupied from thinking about going home anytime soon.

“That’s another body in the ground. Where’s my money?”

The hitman once again casually dismembers another target for his client, taking a quick picture before hurrying to the store. You did say you were a fan of a certain gaming system, he’s got more than enough to spend now that he’s completed another job. Not that he really needed to that amount he had could very well pay for the entire lives of generations to come. That is if he hasn’t budgeted for a luxurious life with you.

“Mmm, which one should I get? Hmm?”

“Oh, are you interested in some of our AAA titles?”

“Not for me but for my partner….I’m just worried they’ll leave me and our kids out while playing.”

“Well if you like we have some lighthearted multiplayer games.”

“That’s perfect!”

He does plan as though you already have kids. He doesn’t need to know if you two will conceive with him or adopt but it doesn’t matter it’s happening. Because to him, you two are already bound to be happily married—all according to his plan. He’s just glad it’s going off so far without a hitch.

“Hi I’m back!”

“Welcome welcome hope everything went well for you chief!”

“How are their studies coming?”

“Decent but they’ll never fully be able to grasp the codes, just as you planned.”

“Perfect. (Y/n) they’re saying you should be the one to massage me this time.”

“What?! There is no way they said that.”

Your hitman’s greatest power is his nonchalant attitude. It’s what allows you to accept that it was his carelessness that led to you being targeted in the first place. It’s what have you not looking twice when ‘the villager’ demands you both feed each other. It might take a while before you fully become the you–he envisioned in his plans but he can wait.

After all your hitman’s waited this long. He doesn’t mind waiting a little more.

“Don’t think too much and let’s just let fate that I’ve chosen decide.”

[gyumazing]

Nishimura Riki

In which your mom gave you a pack of condoms during dinner

-

Pairings: Ni-ki × Reader

Genre: FLUFFY fluff (very suggestive ⚠️)

Word count: 1.8k

-

"Baby, I missed yo—" Ni-ki's greeting was cut short as he suddenly saw your painfully red face the moment he opened his door, preparing to engulf you in a hug. He bit his tongue back, looking like he was about to laugh, but was courteous enough to try and hold it in—which, obviously, failed miserably. His stupid face made your already red face even redder. "Babe..." he called out apologetically as you made your way inside his room, immediately plopping down on his bed, covering your face in embarrassment.

You felt gentle hands patting your head. "I don't think it's that bad," you heard him snicker a little, so you groaned.

You felt his weight shift the foam mattress as he sat down beside you. He combed your hair a little, just enough for him to keep sight of your closed eyes.

"It's perfectly normal... I think?" That was more like a question for himself rather than reassurance for your already ashamed and embarrassed self. Nonetheless, he plopped next to you now, kissing your closed eyes softly. "I mean, there's no way they won't know what we're doing when we're all alone together in he—" Ni-ki half-groaned, half-chuckled, not being able to finish his sentence as you rose up from his bed, wringing his neck.

You wailed.

"Have you seen the teasing looks on their faces earlier?!" You closed your eyes, shaking your head as you recalled the previous encounter with your family at the dinner table; your mom casually handing you a packet of condoms as you bit down on your last piece of toast; your brother Heeseung snickering at you with a knowing look; everyone watching you intently with a smug expression. It was the most horribly nerve-wracking experience you'd ever had. The shame, mortification, and shock brought upon you from that family dinner alone were probably enough to take at least 10 years off your lifespan.

You groaned. You cringed so bad that you found yourself dropping like a soulless sack down onto your boyfriend's bed again, hitting your head onto his laid-out biceps with a thud.

Ni-ki chuckled, which of course earned a death glare from you. He poked your nose.

"It's not that bad... They're looking out for you, and at least they didn't say anything, right?" Ni-ki's pathetic attempt at cheering you up involved playing with your hair as he nibbled on your jaw.

You pushed his head aside resentfully.

How dare he act so casually at your misery when he's the root of it all?

"I mean, it's not like they're wrong. I haven't bought new packs yet, and we could totally use those, you know, babe? That was so thoughtful of your m—"

"Shut up!" You covered your ears, rising up from his bed. He chuckled, his pretty boxy smile creeping onto his face.

He grabbed you by your waist and effortlessly pulled you back into bed. He rested his chin on the gap between your shoulder and neck, spooning you in his hold.

"Okay, okay, no teasing," he surrendered, biting your neck again, earning a gasp and a sharp cuss from you.

He chuckled at your reaction.

"I freaking hate you so much sometimes, Nishimura Riki..." You got up from his hold and flipped him off. But you suddenly let out an inhumane squeal as you found yourself lifted in the air, Ni-ki carrying you easily as if you weighed not more than a dime.

"That's mean. No flipping your boyfriend off..." He warned, ushering your frail and helpless figure next to the wall, pinning your back against it. He towered over you, dark eyes lingering a little too long on your quivering lips. "Do you want to take that back, princess? Hmmm?" he pressed against you, making your eyes widen.

"Let me go..." You tried to act tough.

He shook his head.

"Try that again."

"Let me go..." You started. "Please... baby..." You added in the quietest manner humanely possible, not wanting to have your pride and ego entirely crushed.

Ni-ki presses himself against you again, making you inhale sharply onto his chest. He wraps his hands on your waist.

"I can't hear you, baby." He lifts your chin up delicately, firming your gaze to meet his longing and hazy ones. "Louder."

You scoffed.

Absolutely not.

You kicked him off of you slightly, but it made matters even worse because now he held you even tighter, hands practically caging your waist.

"So bratty..." He whispered, kissing your jaw, pushing you back onto the bed on your back. You gasped, heartbeat racing so fast in anticipation.

Ni-ki looked at you with a smug grin on his face.

"Cat got your tongue, babe?" He tilted his head to the side with a coy grin. You immediately tried to open your mouth to spit out a comeback, a word, something that could make you appear less pathetic beneath his towering frame—anything—but it seemed as though your voice betrayed you. So, you lay there like a deer caught in headlights, gulping cautiously to disregard any bubbling feelings inside you.

Ni-ki giggled, his expression softening as he bit his lip affectionately—a habit of his whenever he found you cute or endearing.

To your surprise, he plopped down next to you again, pulling you into a cuddle. And you wanted to berate yourself for feeling disappointed that he had stopped somehow.

He kissed your forehead.

"Disappointed?" He asked as if he had read your mind. You gasped a little at the accusation, then rolled your eyes as he grinned like an idiot.

Damn him.

Ni-ki fixated his gaze on yours again, an intense look plastered on his face, as if he were studying every pore on your face, etching every speck of detail into his memory. And you couldn't help but sigh in fondness and safety having him so close like this.

"I love you..." He muttered, closing his eyes for so long you almost thought he had drifted off to dreamland. "I'm so happy you came into my life..." He added casually, completely unaware of how loudly your heart was thumping along with his warm, shallow breaths... completely unaware of what he was doing to you and your sanity.

You played with his hair gently, still processing and buffering at the sudden intimacy—not that it was anything new. Not that he didn't bombard you with his sappiness every freaking hour of the day.

"Okay, I was about to sulk that you didn't bother to return my 'I love you,' but I guess this is your way of saying it back." He said contentedly, mewling at the way your fingers scratched his scalp.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his comment, a smile tugging at your lips.

Riki... He was just so silly sometimes. He presented himself in the media as a "cool" and "nonchalant" guy when in fact, he was a loverboy through and through. A silly, sappy boy who craved affection 24/7.

A boyfriend who never got tired of your constant grunts whenever he professed his love to you, and whenever you shrugged his words off, too scared to actually admit that you were in love with him too—something your conscious mind would excuse as simple "puppy love." But days of dating turned into weeks, turned into months, and now you recently marked your fourth year together. You know, it's just shocking. You never saw yourself dating that troublesome kid from elementary school who always made his rich parents pay the school to move up to the next grade, let alone dating him for 4 whole years.

It's just... wow.

"Babe?" You muttered, still playing with Ni-ki's hair as he lay motionless beside you. If it weren't for his low "hmm?" and a sudden peck on your cheek, you'd think he had actually fallen asleep.

You brushed stray hairs out of his face.

This boy loves you.

You love this boy too.

So damn much.

"Ni-ki..." you bit your tongue back in haste. "I love you." You felt your stomach churn weirdly at the projection of Ni-ki's smug expression in your mind the moment those three words escaped your mouth. You waited for his reaction dreadfully—you waited for the familiar menacing grin to appear on his cold and intimidating face—but instead, he remained unmoving.

Then, sniffs.

Sniffs?

Crying?

"Hey, are you okay? Baby? Are you okay?" You got up off the bed in panic, scanning him entirely to check if anything was hurting him. He looked fine, except for his closed eyes that brought tears rolling down his pretty cheeks. "Ni-ki?" You shook him gently.

To your surprise, he pulled you into a cuddle again, chuckling a little.

"Are you... okay?" you asked, more concerned now.

"You said 'I love you' back to me..." He whispered into your neck. You couldn't help but sit up again with a look of disbelief on your face, but Ni-ki pulled you back into a cuddle faster than you could utter anything. Is he seriously crying now... because you said I love you? You rarely said it, yes. But this was definitely not the first time. "This is the 5th time you've said it after our 4 years of dating. Honestly, I had made peace with the fact that I'd only ever hear you say it during our anniversaries..." He said, groaning a little—probably due to his self-awareness of how love-stricken and smitten he sounded—which he obviously was, in fact.

"So it surprised you so much to the point that you... cried?" You said in disbelief.

Ni-ki pouted.

"Hey... don't make fun of me." He bit your neck gently.

You hissed at the feeling of his teeth digging into your skin.

Come to think of it, you were almost always the center of teasing and you never really had the chance to get back at him. Whenever you did try, you always ended up in the hole you dug. Like that one time when you sent him a "not so very appropriate" photo of you while they were touring Asia, trying to rile him up, but ended up being severely punished for it the moment he returned home.

Even if you did try teasing him about something, you knew he would have something to tease you back about.

You huffed.

"What are you thinking?" Ni-ki interrupted your thoughts.

"Oh nothing." You huffed again. "Well, for your sake, I won't make fun of you..." It was a lie. It was mostly for your sake.

Ni-ki raised his eyebrows.

"But?" He asked.

"What do you mean 'but'?" You feigned innocence.

"Don't pretend now." He said impatiently, biting your neck again. You pushed his head aside while giggling.

"But, I will use it in case of emergencies..." You grinned.

"Emergencies?"

"Oh you know... When you make fun of me, now I have something to tease you back with." You sang, hands creeping onto his. "So, don't go around teasing me every time, goddammit!" You warned.

But instead of being intimidated, Ni-ki's grin grew even bigger.

He nodded.

"Okay deal." He poked your side. "We don't talk about me crying and I won't ask what flavor of condom your mom bought you." He wiggled his brows.

You groaned.

___

[bellsmess]

Whenever someone calls Charles Rowland straight, an angel dies.

What straight guy tells his best friend who just confessed to him that there's no one else – no one – he would go to Hell for. And that they have forever to figure out what that means. You don’t get his repressed bisexuality like I do!

Even modern bisexuals (I may or may not be speaking from personal experience) are oblivious to the fact they're bi because heteronormative roles are so engraved in our minds. When you're attracted to other genders, it's easy to miss a same-sex crush, only then to realise that oh, it wasn’t just admiration, it was attraction.

Charles, having grown up at the height of the AIDS crisis, with an abusive and probably homophobic father, killed by racist bullies? That would make anyone repress any gay feelings. Especially if you experience crushes on people with a different sex to you.

Charles sees Crystal and takes his chance. He's enamoured with this smart, strong-willed, pretty girl who can see him not only in a physical sense, but pays attention to him. He longs to be loved. Then he says the infamous "That sounds alot like you, doesn't it? Maybe that's why I like her so much" line. What an icon. And he compares himself and his best friend to the greatest love story of all time, Orpheus and Euridyce's.

When Edwin confesses to him, he doesn't rule out the possibility of returning these feelings. He knows they're already devoted to each other. They've already had 30 years of companionship and solving cases together.

"As long as I have my best mate and a case to solve, I'm good."

Being with Edwin is simple. They solve cases, help others, run away from Death. It's a simple existance. Charles gave up eternity to be with Edwin, because he was kind to him when he was dying. Charles finds him fun, wants to protect him, knows that Edwin is a kind and good person. One that Charles wants to be.

"Bad guys don't worry about being bad guys. And you, Charles Rowland, are the best person I know."

Crystal's role is very important in changing the dynamic between Edwin and Charles. Not only because Charles falls for her, but because she opens them up. She digs out their repressed feelings and trauma. Charles finally deals with his dad's abuse, his happy-go-lucky mask falls. She points it out to Edwin. Charles kept it up so well because Edwin didn't press it, but Crystal does. And Charles finally lets himself process what happened to him, and how that affects his relationships.

Charles never saw genuine love between his parents, and that affects how he views relationships. It impacts how he forms them, too. But he's a loverboy, he longs to be loved, he falls easily. Why wouldn’t he fall for someone who stuck to his side for 30 years?

Crystal and Monty's roles mirror each other – they help the boys figure out their feelings and desires. Crystal makes Edwin jealous that there's someone else Charles cares about in the same sense he cares for Edwin. The Cat King helps Edwin discover desire, Monty – genuine love. As Charles' and Crystal's relationship kickstarts (albeit ends as quickly) and Monty persues Edwin, he discovers the depth of his feelings.

"These complicated feelings that you have? They're for Charles."

I would love to see their wants explored more in the future season(s, hopefully multiple). Charles giving into desire with Desire of the Endless' guidance? Yes please.

I simply cannot believe that anyone would doubt Painland/Payneland endgame. They're everything to each other. They're a constant presence, reassurance, and love. Platonic, romantic, it doesn't matter. Their bond is so deep and genuine that immortal beings see it and leave them be, in the afterlife they chose for each other. Their love is so deep it transcends planes: from mortal plane to Hell, it leads Charles to Edwin. Charles is not Orpheus, when he turns around to hear Edwin out on the staircase from Hell, he manages to get him out. And they have literally forever for each other.

[mintmatcha]

happy birthday aizawa i know he can't wait to come home and cream you

You're already washed up and under the covers by the time Shouta makes it back to his house. The keys rattle as he places them in the bowl by the door, his groans as he peels off his shoes, then he whistles low, calling the cats.

A birthday cake is waiting for him in the kitchen, but instead, he goes to the stairs. They creak under his weight, twelve steps in total- a sound you miss when you're at your apartment. Shouta comes into the bedroom, already halfway through unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes crinkle with delight when he sees you, nestled among his blankets as if you belong here.

"Hi, birthday boy," you say. "You should go have some dinner."

There's a flutter of an eyeroll, diluted by his smirk. "Where are Sushi and Sesame?"

You point to the two lumps under the covers, one at your feet, the other at your side. "You know where."

How quickly things become normal with him. There's still no label for what between you - no 'girlfriend', no 'partner', just the two of you, together- but there's the stability of a routine. His spare key is looped on to your keychain, a drawer by the bed is reversed just for you. Even the cats have become comfortable around you.

The shirt gets discarded on the ground. Before you can complain, he scoops down and picks it up, tossing it into the laundry basket. You've already trained him well.

"Can you kick them out?" he asks.

"Say please."

"Please."

You don't move. Instead, you pout your lips together and bat your eyes. Shouta leans against the door frame, brow raised skeptically.

"But they're so cozy, Shou." You giggle your toes and Sushi beeps in protest. "And warm."

He trudges over and pinches at your feet through the covers. The movement is enough to awake the beast; a paw hits back through the comforter and Shouta chuckles.

"There's no space for me," he points out. "It's my birthday."

"You should really have dinner before you go to bed." you say. Aizawa's hand is walking up your leg, fumbling through the blanket. "You're too skinny."

There's a squeeze when he reaches your knee.

"I'm trying to have dessert first." Shouta's voice has dipped down low. "I bet you're just wearing panties under there, aren't you?"

He's right. You're in his favorite pair, the one that pishes to the side easily, but you'll never admit it. Instead, you hook your finger in the 'come here' motion.

"Mm, come and find out."

"Kick the cats out of the bed."

"Can't you?"

He squeezes your knee again, but this time, it's playful. "I don't want to be the bad guy."

"Neither do I!" You throw a hand over your heart indignantly. "I'm just their stepmom!"

Aizawa sits up a bit. His expression goes a bit wider, a bit softer.

"Stepmom?" He says it like it holds weight, like it means something. Maybe it does. Maybe the undefined terms of your relationship are becoming a bit more salient, maybe you're cementing yourself by his side.

"Well," Shouta rolls a shoulder, trying to stay casual as he speaks. "They love their step mom very much."

Neither have you have said that word before. The L One. The one that changes this causal thing into a real relationship. You have to look away for a moment, process what you should say next.

"Well," you say, hand over Sesame's lump of a form. "I love them too."

[simp4konig]

"You drive me crazy."

Obsessed! Nikto x Reader

Word count: 2472

Nikto's POV! Sporadic uses of "Y/N" — otherwise, reader is referred as "You".

To say that Nikto is obsessed with you would be an understatement 😵‍💫...

Nikto's psychological state gradually deteriorates as you read!

Google Translate Russian lmao 💀,, please forgive any errors! 😟

Edit: Realising that this fic is darker than my usual works. Warning my readers for darker content!

Edit 2: Added the appropriate "dark content" tags. <3

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I'm crazy: I don't think I needed to say, yes?

I know it. We know it. Everyone else knows it.

I've lost my mind long ago. We're losing it as we speak. I've lost myself long ago and I have not known what to do with ourselves.

Of course, not all was lost. I was cleared for service. I can approach situations without hesitation or uncertainty — but most importantly, kill methodically.

All I need are targets. Just give me targets. Nothing else matters. Nobody.

But I found you. I found you. And you found us. Although there was nothing to find, you found us.

How? It's a mystery. An enigma. An unsolvable puzzle.

My name is Igor. Igor Vasilyevich Yurievich.

Игорь. Igor. I—gor. Two syllables. Four letters, in English. A not so common name in Russia, according to the statistics: in 1991 — the year of my birth — approximately 37 baby boys born were named as such. In 2021, only 17 baby boys born were named Igor. I would assume the number declines each year — maybe less than a dozen Igors were christened this year. Or a single digit. Nine. Eight. Seven. Or even less than five.

October 13, 1991 was my exact date of birth. I was born in Novgorod, when Russia was still the Soviet Union. I had parents. A sister…

…Yet that means nothing to me.

Igor Vasilyevich Yurievich? That is foreign. That is not anyone that I know of. I am Nikto. I am no one. Nobody to know, yet somebody that I know of. Not this… Igor. I am nobody. Никто.

When the voices are quiet, that's when I can silently mourn the man that I once was.

Though, can you mourn someone whom you don't know? Can you mourn the faceless person in the casket, whose face is unrecognisable? Can you mourn at a funeral that no one attended, and hadn't taken process?

I'm crazy: I don't think I needed to repeat it, yes?

I knew it. We knew it. Everyone else knew it.

But you didn't. You. You.

You… remind me of someone.

They're dead now.

They were just a target. Too bad I can't remember who they were.

But you're not. You're more than a target.

You treated me with kindness when everyone avoided me like the bubonic plague. A Black Death following the death of the former Igor Vasilyevich Yurievich and the black, black blackness lingering — a reminder. But not anything that allows us to remember, or reminds us of who we once were.

I don't remember anything. I don't remember anyone. Photographs of my family before the torture are irrelevant. Documents stamping my existence could just as easily make us inexistent. Nobody exists any more aside from Nikto.

A cacophony of voices has infiltrated my brain. Our brain. We will never be me anymore. We are who we are now.

I am a broken man. I hear the voices of many men, who won't let me sleep, won't leave me be, won't give me peace. I was one of those men. Maybe all of the men are me?

But if all of them are me, and I am all of them, then who are we? What are we?

Then again… who I am is nothing. What I are is everything. What we are — crazy.

The pieces of the puzzle aren't fully there. Surely you must have been aware, my treasure?

You were doing your due diligence to arrange the puzzle pieces, so meticulously and with dedication, devoting hours of your time and wishing for the finished product to be cohesive, but you won't find that within us. How unfortunate.

Some of the pieces are missing. Some of them don't even fit. What you're left with is an incomplete picture — one which will never be completed.

No matter. You can be the missing puzzle piece, yes?

My fellow operatives named me Никто — “Nikto”, meaning “Nobody” or “No-one” in Russian — for… what did they say? My “uncanny ability to replicate other people and hide [my] true identity”? Ironic — seeing as replicating an identity is not the same as claiming your own, and being an individual. Having an actual identity, as opposed to being forced to think that being nobody can suffice.

Funny. I was apparently religious before all of this.

Have you heard of Orthodox Christianity? It's a branch of Christianity most often practised in Eastern Europe, in case you weren't aware. Orthodox Christians believe that Jesus redeemed humanity by sacrificing himself through crucifixion — unlike Catholics, who believe that Jesus sacrificing himself through crucifixion was all in an effort to redeem humanity.

Perhaps I was an altar boy in my childhood. Or wore a cross around my neck. Maybe I was devoted, and prayed in the morning, before a meal for grace, in the night, before a mission for mercy, during a mission out of desperation, and after a mission as gratitude.

Such bullshit.

Obviously, God doesn't exist — not in the ethereal, omniscient sense.

Oh no.

The God is You. You are my God.

Just like with Orthodox Christianity, and the salvation of humanity after the sacrifice of Jesus, your presence, your mere existence, was salvation. You brought redemption unto us.

Of course, following my torture, God became an abstract concept. How could the Holy Father abandon me? How could my prayers after the tortue be so wilfully ignored? Why would he actively play a passive role in my damnation, as I'm burned, as I'm beaten, as I'm bruised, abused, cut, and mutilated?

No one was born a sinner. Not even me, this nobody. So what kind of retribution was this — a disfigured face, ruined body, and voices which infiltrated my psyche, words equivalent to the evil of the Antichrist?

But You? You made it worthwhile. Your kindness. Compassion. Charity. It was all worthwhile. Even to gaze at You from afar.

Well.

For the most part.

We have repented for our sins: stealing Your dirty laundry, Your hairbrush, Your t-shirts, and other trinkets which we deem Holy Relics; using Your lip balm without permission, You none the wiser; committing sinful acts in the comfort of your own bedroom, only for You to return, oblivious. We apologise for that nagging paranoia, demanding You to turn around, to catch a glimpse of the eyes staring at You, but You not noticing us when we were camouflaged in the shadows. For stalking You and learning Your schedule. For hacking into all of Your devices and acquiring every little piece of information available from Your digital footprints.

But, You forgive us, yes?

Don't look so horrified, dushka. We left no trace, yes? No evidence. You said You have forgiven all of our transgressions. Think of this as a confession, nothing more. Besides, we never tampered with You belongings. They're all still with us. Just like you will.

You are our oxygen. Without You, we can't breathe. Our lungs suffocate without Your natural scent to fill them, to keep us alive. Our eyes go blind with time without the sight of Your face, Your body. We can't hear anything other than Your voice — our ears tune out any frequencies and wavelengths that don't leave those pretty little lips, yet wage civil war amongst ourselves, spitting curses that cut like knives and pierce like bullets. And Your lips. And Your eyes. And Your eyebrows, hair, hands, neck, God — everything.

You won't abandon us, yes? You wouldn't abandon us, would you, мое сокровище? You are our treasure. I treasure you — all of us do: your pretty little lips, that speak in the softest of tones to us; those eyes that stare in slight fright, yet crinkle in as genuine of a smile as you can manage; those eyebrows that furrow over your bright eyes in the subtlest of frowns, in sorrow or frustration, maybe vexation — and that's just your face. What about your hair? Your hands? Your neck? Your body? What is there not to treasure?

Боже мой, Bozhe moy, my God. Oh God, it's as if an angel has descended and granted us salvation, a merciful deity absolving us of our sins and cleansing our soul. And both the angel and deity are You — working in perfect sync, so benevolent and forgiving, taking pity on a creature so pitiful, so ruined, so unfixable.

We can't remember what some of those was.

Those puzzle pieces, of course.

Zakhaev’s torture stole some of the pieces to the jigsaw, and the puzzle won't ever be solved. We ourselves interrogate, torture, eliminate, kill. Sometimes we dissociate. Other times I am completely in control. Yet all the time, we are committing sins, sins, sins.

And You forgive them. Forgive us.

Every prayer is us praying for you, to you, about you. And each one concludes with your sacred name, whispered in hushed tones as the syllables are too precious to utter out loud.

Poor, poor thing. You probably didn't even know what you were signing up for, did you? You probably intended to be charitable. Sympathetic. And you were, sweet one.

But you were naive to have assumed that we wouldn't become possessive of you like an unwanted stay mutt of its only bone. So innocent — perhaps stupid — but we like to think that you were misguided in your intentions, yet guided by some God.

An ignorant God? If You're the God to worship, then are You an ignorant one? An innocent, naive, and unconditionally loving one? Yet, one that, despite Their obliviousness, can knowingly soothe with a simple string of words? With a caress?

What an oxymoron. It suits You. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Aw. Are those tears, dushka? Let's wipe them, hmm? Kiss it better, yes? You will like our lips on you.

Don't scream. Don't hurt those vocal cords. We like the sound of your voice. We want you to talk.

There there, little one. You look beautiful when you cry, but you look most beautiful when you're smiling. Smile, hm? Do it for us. Your Nikto.

You don't have to be afraid, you know. Don't be afraid, krasotka. We love you.

Here, put your hand on our chest. Feel how our heart is beating? It beats only for you.

Our abdomen, our stomach. You feel how toned that is, yes? You feel the muscle?

What about our biceps? The strength in our forearms? They're all for you. We're all yours, yours yours yours.

Our blood looks good on you, dushka. The blood really accentuates your nails. But please, stop. Stop.

You don't have to scratch us, or scream. You know that none of that will change anything. You know that we will love you, even if you tell us you hate us. It's too late.

Get used to touching us, yes? What's left of us, anyways. Yes, our body won't be the most appealing, or the handsomest, but it's all for you. Every inch. All for you — just like how you are all ours.

You're ours, just as much as we belong to you. You could stab us with a knife and we'd smile. You could shoot us with a gun point-blank in the head and we'd thank you. What an honour it would be to live with you by your side, or die by your side. We're a dead man either way. Your dead man. Your Nikto.

You underestimated my capacity for violence. Or were perhaps too naive to understand it.

That's okay. Put your hand on my face. Just like that. See? Nothing to fear. It's just us. Your Nikto.

I can feel it shaking. Why do you shake so much, hm? Don't be afraid. There's nothing to be afraid of. You should know there's nothing to be afraid of. After all, you were fearless when it came to speaking to me, and weren't afraid to reach out to us. Surely you don't want to abandon us now?

That's too bad. You won't abandon us. We won't let you.

I'm crazy: I don't think I need to repeat it, yes?

I know it. We know it. Everyone else knows it.

You drive me crazy.

You drive me crazy.

You drive me crazy.

So crazy.

So, so crazy.

I am already crazy yes but it is You who drives me to insanity do You know that? Why do You deny? Do not deny us this yes? Yes You do know that it is You who makes me mad beyond return of course You do You've always known it and You know it now little one You're just pretending feigning ignorance with surprise in Your eyes. Why pretend that it was all a pretense? Your kindness? Your sympathy? Your company? It was not pretense to us no it was everything. Everything we could have hoped for prayed for and lived for.

You drive me crazy.

You drive me crazy.

You drive me crazy.

So crazy.

So, so crazy, baby.

Craaazyyy. Crazy crazy crazy!

You have made us the craziest we have ever been from the moment we met Your eyes and will be forever driven crazier with Your around from the day You die. And that won't be anytime now, my treasure. We will treasure You, take care of You, keep You safe. You will want for nothing, we can assure You — nothing, nobody, no one. Only Nikto. Nobody will ever look at You, as their eyeballs will be gouged out for having the audacity to spare a glance at the pinnacle of perfection. And nobody will ever want You, nobody will taint that precious skin with unworthy fingers, as anyone who tries will have them broken have their bones crushed to dust their skin muscles and tendons ripped to ribbons until there is no body left.

Nobody will ever look at You. Only Nikto. Us. Forever, and ever, and ever and ever and ever we will have our eyes on You until our retinas dissolve and our pupils can no longer absorb light and we become blind and crippled, crying, crying crying crying for You, crying only for You. You crying out for us until Your voice is hoarse from moaning, until our name becomes a prayer just as much as Yours is to us.

We love You. Think of nobody. Only Nikto. Only of Nikto. Only for and against Nikto. We will live for You. We do already, do you understand? We're yours. Yours. Yours yours yours yours yours yours to have yours to hit yours to scratch with those nails yours to scream at yours yours yours yours yours. Yours. Yours! Yours!

Yours!

Y/N.

I'm crazy: I don't think I needed to say, yes?

I know it. We know it. Everyone else knows it. You should have known it.

And if you didn't know it, then You will know it.

Because You drive me crazy.

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A/Ns

Really really really Really REALLY had doubts about posting this and thought that no one would like it. I felt inspired and happy and proud of myself when I was almost finished but it took me days to conclude the work since I was second-guessing whether or not I should post this after all. Kind of embarrassed, in all honesty, but I decided to post it in the end since I quite like it. :'>

I just wanted to highlight your, @//connorsui, lovely, lovely words when you reblogged my last Nikto post 😭😭😭💘💘💘. To receive not only some compliments, but your thoughts on my headcanons AND analysis *AND* your evaluation of my post was so, SO heartwarming to wake up to in the morning 🥹🥹🥹💓💓💓, especially when it was so long!!! Like, what?!! 😢😢😢😢😢😿😿😿😿😿😭😭😭😭😭💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💖💖💖💖💖✨✨✨✨✨

Thank you so so so SO much for your positive feedback !!! I've read it over four times by now. O really appreciated and still appreciate it. ☺️💞🫶💖✨✨💕💕

(I also want to kiss Nikto's scarred face ☹️☹️☹️ just wordless acts of intimacy where words aren't necessary and just to show the man some affection, regardless of how he looks 😟💝 need that ugly traumatised Russian man SO BAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭)

Inspiration for this gained from:

thisvvv song!!! and Chapter 7 in Metro 2035 lol,, when Artyom was drunk and disorientated I thought it was written really REALLY well and I wanted to incorporate his meaningless drivel into this.

Nikto's voicelines and his various voices/sporadic changes in character

the Fandom Wiki

my own headcanons lol 😋

From fluff this whatever the fuck this is!!!!!!!!!! Hope you enjoyed 💗💗

[woso-dreamzzz]

Torn V

Kewis x Child!Reader

Summary: You go to the doctor

Usually, when you go to the doctor, it's because Mom has to have another checkup on her knee.

Lately though, it's because of you.

You go to the GP and then you go to another doctor and then another one.

Mom and Mommy are worried about you but you don't know why. They speak in hushed tones together and always make sure to squeeze you extra tight during bed time cuddles.

You don't understand what's going on, even as you're taken to the special doctor and have sticky things stuck to your head.

Mommy says that it's to check you're healthy. You don't know why you have to be checked like this all of a sudden but it's not too bad.

Mom had surgery before. That's scary.

Having weird things stuck to your head isn't scary, not really so you force yourself to be brave.

You get to hold your favourite dino toy nice and tight as you look up at flashing lights and the nurses set you up for the rest of your tests.

Things are weird but you must be brave like how Mommy was brave to move across the world to be with Mom and how Mom was brave when she had her knee surgery.

You have to be brave because Mom and Mommy are brave all the time and you don't want them to see you scared.

You go for more appointments too, to get your blood drawn and to be checked over.

Then, it's a round of waiting.

Mom and Mommy don't tell you what's going on, not really, but they hold you more often.

You're sitting in the doctor's office again when your moms get told the results.

Kristie's been anxious all morning, knee bouncing as the doctor pulls up your file.

Any number of things could be wrong with you.

She'd doom scrolled through google last night, reading about cancer and tumours for so long that Sam had to take her phone from her and hold her as she cried.

You'd never been sick like this before. Sure, you'd had the flu and a tummy bug before but your random zone outs are nothing like that.

Kristie doesn't know how long you've been having them, doesn't know how long they've been ignored for. She doesn't know if they're going to get worse or if you've already hit the worst of them.

She takes Sam's hand tightly in her own, eyes darting down to the floor where you're amusing yourself playing with your dinosaur toys.

"Alright and this is for the little one, right?"

Kristie nods.

"Can you confirm her name?"

"y/n Mewis-Kerr."

"And birthdate?"

Kristie answers easily and squeezes Sam's hand.

"Right." The doctor types in a few more things before swinging his chair around to face them.

"Is she okay?"

"That depends on what your idea of okay is. We can make a diagnosis after seeing the results of her tests."

"And?" Sam asks, getting a bit impatient with this man trying to delay telling them.

He reaches across the desk to grab a pamphlet, offering it up to them.

"We're very confident that Miss y/n has CAE. Childhood Absence Epilepsy."

"Epilepsy," Sam repeats," She's been having seizures?"

The doctor nods. "Now, there's not much to worry about at this stage." He opens the leaflet and points to a section. "The type of seizure she's been having are absence seizures. These are normal enough and aren't as dangerous as others."

"So...So she'll be okay?"

The doctor purses his lips. "Most kids grow out of it by the time they're teenagers but..."

Kristie sighs. "Some don't."

"There is a chance that she'll develop a different type of epilepsy as she grows up."

"That's it?" Sam scoffs, something unfamiliar swelling in her chest. "Oh, your kid has epilepsy! Here you go?!"

"Sam!" Kristie hisses.

"Mom?"

The room falls silent as you twist around to look at Sam, broken out of your play by her loud voice.

"Are you okay?"

Sam looks at you, mouth hung open for a moment before she opens her arms up for you.

You go to her willingly, letting her lift you up onto her lap.

"We're talking to the doctor about you, chook," Kristie says," He's going to help you get better."

"But I'm not sick," You tell her," Am I sick, Mommy?"

Kristie shakes her head. "No, chook and we're going to keep you that way. Let's just listen to what the doctor has to say."

The doctor clears his throat. "From what I've seen and what you've told me, I'm going to recommend some medicine to keep her seizures under control. I'll send off the prescription in a moment and the pharmacy will call you when it's ready. All the dosages and instructions are on the bottle."

Kristie nods as Sam holds you tighter than before.

"We'll schedule another appointment in a month so we can check how she's doing on her new medication and we'll adjust as needed. She'll also need to be seen by her neurologist at least once a year just to check on how she's doing."

"And...And if she does develop a different type of epilepsy?" Sam asks tentatively.

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."