#whatever gender this guy's got going on....i need it

[kuvwrlds]

his forearms are so <3 i will eat them they give me so much gender envy

[lucabyte]

transfem loop + siffrin... you agree

i does agree.... i does in fact ... write a 7k word essay on the subject..... if you would like to perhaps click that link and read it if you were not already aware...... kisses u on the forehead......... sorry its that long but i had to cover all of my bases you know how it is with textual analysis when you're trying to draw a distinction between "headcanon" and "reading of the text" because those are different things.... to meeeeeeee.......

[dennisboobs]

i think everyone on sunnytwt needs to be sat down so i can explain to them what basic human empathy is. and then maybe i put them in a blender until they agree to write meta about the characters instead of whether or not charlie day got facial reconstruction surgery.

[hauntingblue]

Jaya time

I love these moments of nearly cosmic horror when they encounter inexplicable things (at first) they are so intriguing

Is strawhat here?! *Megan thee stallion saying AAH 😜*

This cover just goes hard... Get it chopper

[anothermonikan]

Okay clinging desperately onto the fact that I hated having my hair straightened as a kid because of how girly it made me look as some sort of proof that maybe I'm not that cis actually

[l48yr1nth]

hhhhghghhhgghsgsgvhvhhh... split...

[reidmania]

use somebody 2 | spencer reid

part one here

summary; spencer dreaded the day he would see you with anything other than a frown on your face, when that day comes, spencer would do anything to bring your sweet smile back.

warnings; some mean police man being sexist and mean to fem reader, protective spencer, fluff, a little angst but like barley any, will there be a love confession??? read and find out!

an; idk im dying. thank u. mgg hand mention

Spencer wasn’t the biggest fan of the jet before you joined the bau. He didn’t have any particular issue with it, there was nothing he could really fault or use as an explanation as to why he wasn’t a big fan of it but it was just boring, he would read and then reread books, then try and sleep.

Then you joined the team and suddenly the jet was one of his favourite places, because you would sit next to him. You would ramble about a new show you were watching or a flower you had seen on the side of the road, and lately you would tell him about your dog. He would get to listen to you talk and get to watch you smile and flap your arms around as you got increasingly more excited as your ramble went on.

On the way home if you were feeling too tired to excitedly ramble about something random you would just sit next to him and let him ramble, the same excited smile on your face nonetheless as you paid the at most attention to whatever it was he was talking about, listening intently and asking questions almost as if you just wanted to keep him talking.

He didn’t mind.

Your plans to watch the documentary he recommended at your house were quickly ruined by the notice that you had a case that would take over the span of your weekend.You had apologised profusely to Spencer as if he didn’t technically cancel on you just as much as you did him. He didn’t mind, he got to spend time with you either way.

In a sort of twisted way, he preferred working a case with you. At least this way you were around him rather than spending your weekends around anyone else. He wondered if that was creepy and controlling and if he said it aloud it would probably end in him over explaining how he just hated the idea of anything happening to you, or you meeting someone else.

You were too kind, for anyone. Especially him.

Thats why he was immensely annoyed when the Police Sheriff of the station they were at in Louisiana, decided to nit-pick every little thing you did. He wondered if the Sheriff was just insanely insecure or if maybe it was a gender issue.

He settled on the latter when the comments ended up going towards Emily, and JJ as well. Just a little bit more towards you, maybe because regardless you continue smiling at him or muttering out soft apologies for whatever minor thing you had done that the policeman had an issue with.

There were many times Spencer wanted to speak up, or shove the old mans faced into a wall — but then you’d smile sweetly at Spencer and he remembered you were a grown woman, you were perfectly capable of taking care and defending yourself. Regardless of this information, Spencer stayed a little closer to you throughout the day.

“Alright, giggle guts, whatcha got for me?” Penelope said over the phone after she had heard your mumble out a cheery hello once it went through. Spencer smiled fondly at the nickname, mostly because he saw your smile widen and a string of laughter leaving your lips, the sound melodic in his ears.

The sound of your laughter only made a small laugh puff out Spencer’s lips because it was so sweet and so beautiful that it was contagious and he couldn’t help it.

“Well, you gorgeous amazing girl. I need you to look up this guy’s medical history, please” the manner was added so sweetly and softly on the end. The compliments left your lips effortlessly, the sound of your voice and the evident smile in it made Spencer’s heart happy.

Penelope said something over the phone but it was inaudible over the sound of Sheriff standing in the corner of the room scoffing. Your eyes flickered upwards towards the sound, eyebrows pinching together in slightly confusion. Everyone’s expression mirroring your own.

Spencer felt dread fill his stomach and over every goosebump on his skin, dread to fear whatever spiteful unnecessary criticism the man would have to offer. The criticism absolutely no one asked for.

“Whats the issue?” Hotch spoke up, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down the sheriff. Was it in a protective manner? Nobody was sure really, the elder’s expression remaining unreadable.

The sheriff kicked off the wall to stand a little stranger, looking at hotch than back to you. “Unprofessional. This is why this is a man’s job. Sensitive squishy women who think life is all sunshine and rainbow are not fit for a job like this.”

Everyone went silent, your lips parted before closing, unsure of how to reply to something so unnecessarily mean. Spencer’s expression hardened. The room fell into an awkward tension, nobody moving or saying anything.

You pushed out a laugh, “Damn okay.. Tell me what you really think” You muttered under your breath, a joke.

Spencer would’ve laughed at your comment, your way to bring light to a room that had been made so dark but he could see the hurt in your eyes and he felt his heart strings pull against his chest, he wanted to reach out and grab your hand, reassure you that you were perfect for this job.

He was pissed. Actually. There wasn’t a lot that could make Spencer mad — this however was one of the few things that did. He shuffled uncomfortably, finding it difficult to hold his tongue. He could tell Emily and JJ was uncomfortable by the comment made.

Hotch opened his mouth to talk but Spencer had beat him to it. “You’re probably, what 65?” He said, his tone of voice curt and blunt it made your heart turn in Spencer’s direction.

The police officer furrowed his eyebrows, yet nodded anyways. Spencer hummed in response, sitting up a little bit straighter as he leant forward to rest his forearms against the conference table the team had been gathered around.

“Right, so by assumption and well — biology. You are actually probably the least reliable person in this room right now, despite age or gender. Your pace is significantly slower than anyone on your team, and i don’t think I even need to compare you to our team because I don’t wish to further embarrass you or hurt your fragile masculinity much more.” Spencer started.

Your head had fully turned towards his now, eyebrows quipped and eyes widened in shock because you weren’t expecting Spencer of all people to come to your defence. Not because you didn’t think he cared but because the boy could hardly defend himself, you just hadn’t expected him to defend you.

“And actually — we use psychology, which women are actually significantly more successful in because of their ability of understanding, gender plays little to no role in our field of work. Its also ironic since I know you heard Derek on the phone to Garcia, you had no issue with what he had said — so I’m very sure that whatever issue you have, is purely because your masculinity feels threatened by girls who are doing a job you couldn’t fathom. Either get your mind out of the 1800’s or get away from our team.”

“Spence” His head turned towards your voice, taking in your wide eyes and parted lips in shock. He had honestly lost himself in the midsts of his ramble, unable to help it because someone had made you upset. The sweetest, kindest, gentlest person was made to feel bad by a way too old male who was clearly unable to adjust to the way the world was evolving.

“Sorry” Spencer apologised for his ramble. The door slammed shut as the policeman left the room, and Spencer felt a strange sense of pride when he looked back up at you to see a gentle smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you pulled your eyes away from him back to the phone.

“Sorry about that pen.. Those medical records?”

Your smiled returned throughout the rest of the day, Hotch had gone out of his way to talk to the Sheriff and although nobody else had any idea what the conversation between the two included, it was clearly enough to make the Sheriff stay far far away from you and the rest of the team whenever possible.

Although your smile returned, Spencer could almost instantly notice the drastic difference. Maybe it was actually minor because no one else noticed, or maybe he just spent too much time admiring your pretty smile. Either way, he knew he didn’t like it.

“Spence” You said the nickname, a hint of curiosity lacing your tone. his head lifted towards yours with furrowed eyebrows and a small nod of acknowledgement. He repeated your name back to you in the same sort of curious tone.

He watched as you sat up a little bit straighter, meeting his eyes, offering him a smile before you head dipped down again and a gentle breath left your lips. “Do you think I’m unprofessional?” You asked, voice small and gentle and Spencer felt his heart ache so tensely it caused physical pain in his chest.

“No” He answered immediately. The rest of the team were out looking over the crime scenes while he opted for staying back with you while you looked for any connecting links between files. “I think you are very professional. You’re kind but that doesn’t make you unprofessional.” He added, quick to reassure any doubt that weighed down on your pretty mind.

You hummed gently, “But-“ He didn’t let you finish or come up with any sort of argument, he wouldn’t have it. He refused to let man who was balding make you feel any less about yourself.

“But nothing.” He said, his voice stern and final yet so gentle. “He was mean and sexist, if anyone is unprofessional it’s him. You are amazing at what you do, you are smart and kind and everyone who meets you loves you. You’re safe, for everyone. Victims especially. Not everyone has that about them” He said.

It was true, when working cases victims gravitated towards you and your comfort and kindness, if there was someone to trust it was you. Kids and witnesses were always more inclined to talk to you than anyone else on the team because there was something so sweet and welcoming and safe about you.

“You do” You said, tilting your head a little as you looked up at Spencer. His eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion as to what you meant, but his heart skipped a beat anyways.

“You have that something safe about you.” You said, noticing the confusion that covered his features. His heart warmed and ached all at once. Spencer was glad, so so so glad that you found him safe, that he was able to make you feel that way — Honestly he was happy he had any effect on you whatsoever.

“You think so?” He asked, voice a little quieter as he held your gaze. He was scared that if he spoke any louder he may break the fragile moment. You nodded, a small smile on your face, a real smile.

“Mhm, I think thats why I got so comfortable with you so quickly. You’re so.. safe, and smart i think i trust anything you say so please don’t lie to me because that would end really badly for me, and probably give me trust issues and then i will never trust anyone again — and well thats just not good” You rambled out dramatically. Spencer’s smile widened for a series of reasons.

“I would never lie to you.” He said gently, voice carrying a hint of something more, honesty and truth and so much longing it was almost embarrassing, he hoped you missed the way his voice went up an octave.

“Okay good.” You smiled.

Your gaze lingered on Spencer’s for a moment before you turned your head away. He felt like the room had gotten too warm, he had to refrain from the urge to loosen his tie and rub the sweat away from his forehead.

“Did you like the book?” You asked, fingertips grazing over the folder of the case file you were supposed to be reading. Spencer’s eyes followed the movement of your hand before returning to the side of your face.

He nodded, mind going back to the words highlighted in blue and suddenly the room really was too warm, he could feel his palms growing disgustingly sweaty. “I loved it, actually.” Much less because of the context of the story and moreso because you had gifted it to him.

You shook your head as you lifted it to look at him, a smile playing on your lips. He was glad that was back, the sweet genuine smile on your face that could probably drown out any bad day.

“Im gonna be honest, I hate annotating books. I think pages should be left undrawn on, and crisp and beautiful but you like annotating books so i figured.. Um.. That it was a good way to tell you how I felt” You mumbled out, and Spencer was both insanely fond of you going out of your way to do something you disliked for him, and also immensely confused by what you meant.

“How you felt?” He furrowed his eyebrows and he watched as your face went through series of expressions before your eyes widened and your lips parted.

“Oh!” You huffed out, realising he had not understood what you were trying to do and you were now giving yourself away massively. “Oh thats— Really embarrassing actually.” You said as you smiled anyways, bringing your hands up to press against your flush cheeks to try and sooth the warmth.

His eyebrows pinched together as he sat up a little straighter, “No- What? What do you mean?” He asked, he found it sweet what you had highlighted and he didn’t see at all how that was embarrassing, or something he should be making a big deal out of.

You huffed out a laugh, “You’re smart Spencer, and a profiler. Im sure you can figure it out.” You said sweetly before pushing your chair out from the table, standing up. He wanted to reach out but he was stuck trying to figure out what the heck you meant.

“Im going to go get coffee.. Do you want some?” You asked, obviously relishing in his current confusion and obliviousness in order to get yourself out of this all too embarrassing situation if it ended in some sort of rejection you were buying yourself time.

“Um- What? No, No thank you” He answered confused, obviously his mind fixated on what you meant, on what he was missing and trying to figure it out.

You let out a laugh, “You’re sweet.” Before you left the room to get yourself coffee. Spencer’s cheeks warmed instantly at your compliment and if you had stayed longer he might’ve built the courage to argue how insanely ironic it was coming from you.

Instead, he sat confused. His mind going over the two lines highlighted in blue in the book you had gifted him, trying to understand how they referenced how you felt. He made you smile, that was good, he understood that.

But you always smiled. It didn’t take a lot to make you smile so how was that the big confession? Was there some context he was missing. Then he remembered the part of the story the line came from, a love confession. The context of the sentences used.

And suddenly he realised despite his iq, and being a literal genius, he was the biggest idiot on earth.

[stevieschrodinger]

“I’m just saying it’s manipulative.”

“Manipulative? Eddie you can’t be serious.”

“I am, now, where’s the dish? It’s got to be around here somewhere.”

“Maybe in this box, clearly labelled ‘kitchen’?” Dustin snarks, “and I don’t see how you can say behaving in a way that’s been dictated by your very biology is...manipulative. That’s not fair, man.”

Eddie digs in the box, bringing out the baking dish he wants, and then heads back into the kitchen, swerving around clutter and open boxes as he goes, “yeah, I get that a lot of Omega act the way they do because of what they are, alright. I get that, I do. But all this...kind of, 'oh my oh my, can’t the big Alpha come and save me...I just need looking after and...and protecting'. And I get that it works, a lot of Alphas eat that shit right up, I’m just not one of them.” Eddie bangs around in the kitchen fixing Wayne’s famous corned beef hash casserole, “it’s just not for me, you know? I don’t want someone who’s just going to do as they’re told and roll over on everything, I want someone who is equal, not someone who wants looking after all the time. I will not be loosing my head over any Omega, no matter how pretty they are.”

“So you...wouldn’t look after your Omega?” Dustin squints at him.

“Firstly, not happening, not ever, I’m sticking to Beta’s and that is final...but, I mean, yeah, of course I’d look after my partner, but I’d do that for anyone. I don’t want this hormone driven need to...to I don’t know. It’s just not for me Henderson, okay? Now help me with the books.”

Dustin whines, “but there’s like, fifty million of them...and I still don’t agree that it’s manipulative. They’re just...playing to their strengths, or whatever.”

“Right, so an Omega bats their eyelashes and every Alpha in sniffing distance is falling over themselves to do whatever the Omega wants, and that’s not manipulative?”

“Welllll…no, especially since it only works because of the Alphas in the first place, if it’s anyone fault, it’s the Alphas, right?”

“Fucking...just shut up Henderson.”

Eddie’s just put their plates on the table when there’s a knock at the door, “I’m not waiting,” Dustin sits down and starts shoveling, and Eddie mutters curses all the way to the door, he’s absolutely starving-

“Hi, I am so sorry,” it’s an Omega. A ridiculously pretty one. A very, very pregnant one. “I’m from next door,” the very very pretty Omega is on tip toes, trying to look over Eddie’s shoulder. He’s clutching a plate to his chest, “I know you’ve just moved in and, again, I am so so sorry about this, but is there any chance I could try what you’re cooking? Please?”

He smells so good. Even better than a regular Omega; Eddie’s sure it’s because he’s pupped, probably some biological bullshit about protecting pups and whatever. But still, he’s...he’s cute, standing there with his plate, sniffing after Eddie’s cooking.

“I could smell it in the hall. It could just be the tiniest bit, but I just would really like to try it, I’m so sorry for interrupting your dinner but-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says, taking the guys plate, “just hang there a second.” Eddie goes and...well, if he fills the plate of what was going to be tomorrows dinner, no one needs to know. Eddie might have opinions on gender, but he’s not a dick. The guy is very pregnant, plus he was being super polite about it. He even brought his own plate.

It’s another human being, pregnant and hungry; Eddie would do the same to help anyone out. This is absolutely nothing to do with the guy being the prettiest Omega Eddie’s ever seen in real life.

Eddie delivers the plate back, “oh my goodness,” oh okay, that’s adorable. Eddie’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone say ‘oh my goodness’ in real life, like, ever. “Thank you so so much, is there anything I can do? I can contribute to the ingredients or-” and that’s when Eddie figures that not only is the guy very pretty, he’s actually a reasonable human being too, lots of people wouldn’t have even thought about that sort of thing.

“No, we’re good just, ah, let me know what you think.”

“I will, I will,” the guy is saying as he turns to leave, carefully carrying his laden plate. He’s big enough that he’s kind of waddling, and Eddie watches him long enough to see him go into the next apartment along the hall.

Eddie shuts the door, turning back to find Dustin watching him, both eyebrows raised, a very accusatory look on his face, “oh shut the fuck up.”

“Just let me know what you think,” Dustin mimics back, like a little bitch.

Part Two

[pomefioredove]

could you perchance do a part two to the yuu getting sold to the highest bidder? like how would that characters treat them if they actually get them? sorry if this doesnt make sence!! but thank uu!! ^_^

more than happy to! <3 I'm writing this as a follow up/pt. 2 to this post but if you'd like something different don't be shy! I love getting requests

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | bad ending

summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms (for some). a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: trey, cater, leona, rook, idia, lilia, malleus additional info: yuu is gender neutral, rook is weird, both fem and masc french words are used during rook's part but reader is still gn, I need to replay book 2 to get leona's voice down, Idia being fun to write, maybe a little ooc

If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.

Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.

"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.

"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.

You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"

Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"And our winner is..."

Trey and Cater's Ending

"Cater Diamond and Trey Clover!"

Everyone stops dead and turns to the back of the crowd. There's a certain sense of unity that, for a brief moment, everyone can feel in the form of a single thought: Them, of all people?

Cater, ever the people-person, can already tell what's on everyone's minds. "What can I say? I run a mean social media campaign. I had some sick infographics,"

Trey can only smile and shrug at the growing disdain coming from the other students, most of which from his own housewarden, who is s currently turning a lovely shade of crimson.

"...Right. Well, the prefect will be ready for you shortly," Crowley says, folding the envelope and setting it back in his pocket. "I trust your housewarden will help you sort out the details."

Riddle looks more like he's about to start throttling them.

"Nah, it's cool. We got this," Cater smiles, though he's only half paying attention as he posts an update to Magicam. "The prefect is in great hands. Right, guys?"

Ace and Deuce shrug. Not the best outcome, not the worst, and either way it's still their friend coming to stay with them. Riddle is gritting his teeth so hard you could practically hear them grinding from Ramshackle.

"Was anyone going to tell me you two had pitched in, as well? Or was it a surprise?"

Trey smiles, almost nervously. "Well-"

"We were only giving the dorm a better chance. It's basic statistics- more Heartslabyul names in the hat, more of a chance one of us will be drawn, y'know?" Cater beams. "No disrespect, of course."

"None whatsoever," Riddle hisses back.

---

"And you're sure he's not really mad?" you ask, trailing behind the two third years.

It had been almost an hour since you'd updated your Magicam feed and read the announcement firsthand, but the shock is still wearing off.

Cater scoffs. "Whaaaat? No, he's totally cool about it,"

"Well. Now he is, anyway," Trey murmurs back. "But he certainly won't kick you out. As long as you're in the dorm uniform, you're one of us. He's just upset we went behind his back."

"...Understandable,"

Cater holds the door open for you, letting you inside to see a precariously placed mannequin with a dorm uniform in your size already on it. You hate to admit it, but it's lovely.

"Riddle had one ready. You know, just in case," Trey says, gesturing you forward. "And don't worry, we'll all be taking it easy on you while you adjust."

You run your fingers down the durable fabric. "Hm. Thanks,"

"You should get changed, I need a post to commemorate the moment," Cater says, beaming. "And I kindaaaa want to rub it in for everyone else who lost out on the best giveaway ever."

Leona's Ending

"Leona Kingscholar! Please... be responsible. Ruggie, I hope you'll keep an eye out for the prefect,"

Ruggie rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. Leona, who had been absent-mindedly picking his teeth before the big announcement, flashes a big smirk to the audience while swaggering to the front of it.

"Well, well. Look who's come in first place, after all. What, didn't think I'd bother to try?"

Vil grimaces, crossing his arms. "Is there a point to this?"

"Obviously. I'm showing off," he rolls his eyes. "I guess I'll be seeing the rest of you lot around my territory a lot more, then?"

He snickers and then disappears back inside the building. Ruggie can only shrug at the disgruntled crowd before tailing after him.

---

"Well, that felt nice," Leona sighs, stretching out on one of the lounge chairs. "Pity that I couldn't see the lizard's reaction, but I'm sure we'll get to that eventually."

You're sitting at the table across from him, playing cards with a very invested Ruggie. You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Malleus," Ruggie mutters, shuffling his cards around in his hand.

"It's never a party without him, right? He was probably off cowering somewhere with his tail behind his legs," Leona chuckles, picking his teeth again. "But everyone else's faces just about made up for it."

"Whatever," Ruggie grumbles. "I'm all in."

Though you're not exactly invested in the game anymore. You set down your cards, much to Ruggie's dismay, and stand over Leona with your hands on your hips.

"I hope you know that I won't be one of your errand runners for you. I've done enough of that with Crowley,"

He pauses, sharp eyes scanning you over. "You certainly know how to rain on someone's parade,"

"This is not a parade. This is my sanity we're talking about,"

"Tch. And what're you gonna do? Run away?" Leona rolls his eyes. "Hide in the jungle? Maybe you can take Ruggie with you and make it a party!"

"Hey, leave me out of this," the aforementioned says, shuffling the deck.

You stand your ground, though you don't know what else to say. Eventually, Leona sighs.

"Fine. I won't make you do anything you don't want to if you're just going to whine about it,"

He pauses, and a small smirk crosses his face. "But you'll at least have to wear the uniform. I need the satisfaction of seeing the look on everyone else's faces."

You smile triumphantly, and sit back down across from Ruggie for another round while Leona watches on, pretending not to care about the game.

It could be better, but it could also be worse.

Plus, something about that smile of his let on more than just a little self-satisfaction.

This could definitely be interesting...

Rook's Ending

"...Ah. Rook Hunt!" Crowley says, folding the paper back in his pocket and leaning down to whisper to Azul in the front row. "Tell the prefect I said good luck."

At the heart of the crowd, Vil turns to Rook, hands on his hips. "Rook..."

"Ah, magnifique! How happy I am, my heart could weep for joy!" he says, completely ignoring whatever disappointed comment Vil was about to unleash. "I must run to my prize at once, there's not a moment to lose!"

Vil grimaces as Rook bounds off into the school, moving so swiftly that he cuts through the crowd of confused (and mildly concerned) students like an arrow.

As always, Rook is genuine with his words- he truly feels as if his own heart is about to leap out of his chest and race him towards Ramshackle.

What a chance, what an opportunity! Not only to be close to someone he has his own private fan club for, but to truly, finally possess beauty in physical form. He would display you on a shelf if it were feasible.

The idea so overwhelms him with joy that you barely had time to ask what was going on before you suddenly found yourself sitting beside him in the Pomefiore lounge as he smooths out the crinkles in your new uniform.

He murmurs under his breath, kneeling before you while inspecting the uniform. "Magnifique, joli, belle, quelle beauté, une rose parfaite..."

...Leaving you in a torn state of embarrassment and shyness. You look across the room to Vil for help, and he rolls his eyes.

"I coulda get used 'ta this!" Grim shouts, lounging on a nearby silk pillow with a mouthfull of pâté. Two freshman are tediously brushing his fur with the nicest set of combs you've ever seen.

"Comfortable?" You ask, only a little sarcastic.

"Uh-huh! Ya know, when I found out the winner was Rook, of all people, I was a little worried. But this is way nicer than collecting dust in Ramshackle!"

You couldn't have said it better yourself.

Rook smiles. "Tsk, tsk. I would never let anyone harm a single hair on your precious head,"

The question is directed to Grim, but he looks straight at you when he says it. "Like a delicate porcelain doll, I will handle you with the utmost care,"

You're not exactly sure what you had been envisioning- maybe he'd release you on a remote island and hunt you for sport?- but this had far exceeded any of your expectations.

Though his gaze is as unsettling as ever, and any hopes of personal space are gone out the ornate glass windows, his usual guarded demeanor had softened just the tiniest bit.

It was unnerving. But nice, in a way.

"Mon trickster, this is just the beginning for us. We have many shining days ahead, and I plan on spending every beautiful breath of them with you. Do you hunt?"

"Oh, sevens," Vil murmurs.

Unfortunately for Vil, Rook's smile is contagious and you can't help encouraging him. Just this once. "Not usually, no,"

"A merveilleuse opportunity! I will teach you all I have learned, then. Ah, this reminds me of a poem I wrote for this exact occasion!"

He may or may not be watching you sleep tonight. Hopefully you're the kind of person who can live with that.

Idia's Ending

LOL. Normies.

Look at them, crowding around like a bunch of sheep. As if anyone has a real chance. SMH.

I knew it was pointless to begin with, but getting into Crowley's banking account and seeing the bids... now I feel lame for even trying at all.

That money could've gone to some new parts. I've been itching to build another PC...

The door flies open, slamming against the wall behind it so loudly that even if Idia wasn't completely absorbed in watching the announcement on his biggest monitor, he would've jumped anyway.

He whirls around in his chair, wide-eyed and shaking like a prey animal, expecting to see some high level boss or classic horror game antag waiting for him.

Instead, it's Ortho. "Idy! You'll never believe-"

"Geez, Ortho, you nearly killed me. And I don't have any extra lives this time," Idia says, spinning back around to face his screen. "Something wrong?"

"Actually, I have some really great news! Wanna guess what it is?"

Idia grumbles, powering off his computer. "Nah, not in the mood,"

Ortho's brow furrows as he catches a fleeting glimpse of the camera feed playing over his brother's screen before it flickers to black. "You've been watching the announcement on the courtyard cam footage?"

"No! I mean- well, I was just curious," Idia says. "I watched for like two minutes. Who even cares about this thing, anyway?"

"Well-"

"I mean, it was a game over from the start. Taking on the highest level bosses at our school with my measly stats? Forget it,"

"But Idia-"

"Who even cares where the prefect ends up, anyway? I doubt they'd wanna be trapped in a basement like this for all eternity,"

"Idia!" Ortho shouts, loud enough to shake his brother from his ensuing pity party. Idia can only stare as he moves to the side, revealing a rather surprised looking you, dressed in the dorm uniform, behind him.

"Idia, you won!"

And then he dies.

That's what he thinks, anyway. Really, Idia goes into a state of complete shock and blacks out so hard that, for a moment, the blinding light shining through his eyelids feels like the light at the end of the tunnel.

"Is he okay?" you ask, tentatively watching as Ortho clicks off the small light he'd been shining in his brother's eyes.

"He's displaying symptoms of a panic attack. Don't worry, he gets them quite frequently,"

A distant groaning pulls the both of you back into the present moment and you watch Idia slowly rise.

"His heart rate has steadied to 70 BPM," Ortho says. You raise an eyebrow. "That's normal. Idia, can you hear us?"

He takes a long moment to respond.

"This isn't real. I'm sleep-deprived from my last speed run and now I'm hallucinating. There's no way,"

You look between the two brothers. This hasn't exactly gotten off to a stellar start.

"Your vitals are normal, although you're lacking Vitamin C. Might I suggest having a fruit cup while we talk?" Ortho asks. Idia shakes his head. "Yuu? Snack?"

"I could go for something,"

Ortho hovers out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. You're too nervous (or is he too nervous?) to ask to sit, so you stand over him while he practically rocks back and forth. His face is so red and hot with embarrassment you could cook an egg on it.

"Um..."

He mumbles back. "Just pretend I'm not here. IK you probably wanted one of those epic SSR students to pull you, I don't blame you for being disappointed,"

He talks so fast and quiet it's hard to make out what he's saying... but you get the gist of it.

"Hey, don't put words in my mouth. This is a hell of a lot better than it could have been,"

He seems to genuinely consider your words for a moment before you're interrupted by Ortho coming back with snacks.

Idia is back on high alert the second he's returned. "This doesn't make sense. I got into Crowley's online bank info and saw all the bids, I wasn't even close to the top five. How?"

"Oh, easy!" Ortho chirps. "I simply rewired funds from Crowley's bank account to up your offer!"

"You... took money out of his account and sent it back to him?"

"Clever," you murmur.

Idia grumbles. "I guess that's not technically stealing... fine. But why? I thought I told you not to bother!"

"My user intel indicates that the prefect is very popular amongst the student body. Their top three descriptors are helpful, kind, and friendly! I thought you two might be able to practice your social skills together... Perhaps you could show them around the dorm as a starting point?"

You turn around to look at Idia, who's sheet-white. Nonetheless... he sighs and stands, muttering a quick "Let's get this over with,"

You watch, as still as stone, as he stops in the doorway and turns to look at you from over his shoulder, his face and hair a pleasant shade of pink.

"Well? Are you coming?"

Lilia's Ending

"And our winner... is... hm. I don't even remember seeing this one in the pile," Crowley grumbles, scratching his head under his hat. "Um, Lilia Vanrouge!"

Silver is the first to look at him. "Fa-Lilia, I thought we talked about this,"

Lilia, currently hovering in the shade of one of the courtyard's signature apple trees, simply shrugs. As if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Oh, we did. I really thought about what you said, about the prefect's freedom, and I decided that you're right! But how could I guarantee their safety from everyone else?"

Silver groans (which turns into a yawn) and Lilia puts on his best cute look as everyone else in the audience turns to him.

Crowley clears his throat. "The prefect will be ready for your-"

"Oh, no need! Thank you, though," he says, and then disappears into the building.

---

You've been distracting yourself by counting cobwebs for far too long, as evident by your headache and the taste of dust on your tongue.

You turn to look at Grim. "Should be over by now. I'm surprised I haven't heard anything yet,"

"Surprised, you say?"

No matter how many times he does that, you're never quite prepared.

You jump, nearly hitting your head against the table you'd been taking refuge under. Grim yowls, clawing into your sleeve (and just barely missing the tender flesh on your arm, thank goodness), and you both stare at the fae ahead of you.

Lilia is sitting on the table, hanging his head upside down and staring right at you. Grim mumbles.

"Don't even tell me. I'm out!"

Lilia waves him goodbye as he makes a swift exit, and then turns back to you.

"I have a secret. Wanna guess?"

You're a little curious (aren't you always when it comes to him?) but that isn't enough to overpower your rising dread.

"No,"

"Aw. Really? I'm sure you'll like it,"

"Definitely not, then,"

He slinks off the table and lies on the floor, cupping his face in his palms and kicking his legs back and forth.

It would be amusing if you weren't so sure of what he's about to say.

"Well, despite your best efforts, I'm not surprised at all. But Malleus couldn't even come here to get me himself?" you sigh.

Lilia tilts his head to the side. "Now, why would he do that?"

There's something written within the margins of his tone that makes your eyes lower at him. Something he's keeping from you.

"...Well... he did win, didn't he?"

"Oh, my. You were hoping for Malleus to win? Now I'm sure we both feel silly,"

You raise an eyebrow. "Hoping is... a strong word. But I was expecting it, yes. So he didn't win?"

"No, dear, Malleus is not the winner,"

"Then... who is?"

Lilia gives you a sweet, self-satisfied grin, his fangs glinting. "You're looking at him,"

Ah.

If there's one thing Lilia Vanrouge is good at, it's surprising you. No matter how stoic you act, no matter how clever you are, he always manages to catch you off guard.

This might take the cake, though.

"I didn't even know-"

"No. Initially, I wasn't going to. But Silver and I... we had a long talk about valuing your freedom and independence, and thus I so valiantly threw myself into the flames to save you from becoming someone's slave," he pauses to smile. "Chivalrous, yes?"

"...Charming," you mutter. "But what was that thing about-"

"Oh, yes. Don't worry, you'll be treated as any other student at Diasomnia. In fact, I'm sure we already have some uniforms in your size!"

"This is... quite the turn of events,"

"Ah, isn't it? I haven't felt this elated in... well... a long time," he grins. "Come along, now. I plan on treating you to a hearty welcome dinner!"

You can only grimace at that.

Malleus' Ending

During all of the confusion, the fighting, the rumors that shook the school, no one, again, had remembered to invite Malleus Draconia to the announcement.

Not that it mattered. Not this time.

One knock at Ramshackle's creaky door and you were suddenly in the depths of the forest around the school, admiring a crumbled stone structure.

"What was it?" you ask, turning to your walking companion.

Malleus smiles slightly. "I believe it was a wall. Fascinating, no? Since you have inhabited Ramshackle, I come here when I want to be alone,"

Ah, right. You'd almost forgotten that you'd made a home out of his ruins of preference.

Ramshackle was in a much better state than this, though. At least you had four walls and a roof over your head.

"Are you alone a lot these days?" you ask, rather absent-mindedly for such a heavy topic.

You're well aware of the answer already. No, of course not. Malleus is constantly surrounded, whether that be his friends, personal guard, mentors...

"Yes,"

Oh.

"I'm... sorry to hear that," it's all you can think to say.

Fae don't seem to know the conventions of human small talk. Or maybe that's just him. Not that you mind. "What about Silver, and Sebek, and Lilia...?"

"Fine companions," he crosses his arms. "I owe them a debt of gratitude. But being physically surrounded does not amount to closeness."

Oddly profound.

You can't help but relate, thinking back to everyone you know. Even with good intentions, they're still out there, bartering over your life.

"I'm glad you came and got me," you say, breaking the tense silence. "I was afraid you'd gone to that... announcement thing."

He raises an eyebrow. "The what?"

"...Never mind. I guess my point was that I've been feeling a little lonely lately, myself,"

Malleus is quiet for a moment, staring directly ahead at the mess of stones and moss that once made up a sturdy wall. Now crumbled, scattered across the ground.

And the, he smiles.

"Well, there is a solution to this trouble of ours. But I'd need your consent,"

What exactly is he getting at? You raise an eyebrow. "Go on,"

"I've been so preoccupied with the formalities that I haven't had the chance to ask you properly, yet. Lilia suggested I might have more success this way,"

He pauses, and then smiles. "I would like us to marry. Does this agree with you?"

You thought you might be stunned. Speechless, even. But the answer comes so naturally.

"Yes, it does,"

[mooooonnnzz]

I saw your earlier post on Platonic fics and Im a sucker for them so here u go : father figure stanford headcannons maybe takes place after he comes back from the portal, reader is an adventurous spirit that works at the shack and maybe secretly helped stan get his brother back? Idk im just throwing things here lol

You Know I Love You Still

Stanford x daughter!reader

💗 stanford dad hc!!

💗 i literally saw the request it and started writing and got a lil carried away 😭 its like half story half hc? if that makes sense

💗 requests r so open rn! i def dont have any fav requests… (anything platonic or familial will be the first ones i write i LOVE those types of requests)

💗 the age of the reader is young like 16/17? ik that lowkey contradicts with the time line but wtv STANFORD DAD HC!!

💗 it’s a little bit of everything? like it’s not only just reader and stanford, the twins r also included in some scenarios and also stan

💗 a big happy family 😭

💗 fem reader gulp i completely didnt realize until i was done that i used she/her when referring to the reader

💗 next fic will use gender neutral pronouns I SWUEAR!!

💗2k words

💗 i apologize for rhe misspell and mistakes i didnt catch in advance

Working together with your Uncle Stan to build the portal to bring your dad back to the right dimension was tiresome. Nights were sleepless and many of them were spent in the underground lab, where you and Stan did everything possible to assemble the portal. Trying to keep such a secret away from the twins and Soos was unexpectedly hard. The knowledge of hiding someone so vital to you and to your Uncle Stan was weighing down on you and him. Then came the day where his awaited arrival was promised. You could barely sleep that night. You thought of so many different possibilities and scenarios of how you would greet him. Would he remember you? Did he ever miss you? Does he even love you?!

The next day came in like a tornado and before you knew it, you were protectively standing in front of the button; trying your absolute hardest to prevent the twins from pressing the button.

“Why do you guys want to stop the portal so badly!” You yelled over the loud swirling wind that emitted from the portal. “Because it’s dangerous!” Dipper retorted, using his arm to shield him from the debris whizzing past him. “G-Grunkle Stan isn’t who he says he is!” Dipper said, stepping closer to you.

“Whatever you guys saw or heard isn’t what you think it is! Please, you need to believe me.” You begged, your eyes brimming with tears. You’ve worked so hard to get this portal up and running and you weren’t going to let Dipper or anyone stop you from being able to see your dad.

Soos came up from behind and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry, dude.” He picked you up and took you away from the button. “Soos, no!” You thrashed around his hold. You pound your fists against his arms, hoping it’ll loosen his grip on you but nothing you did worked. No matter how much you begged and fought against him, he didn’t budge. He just held you closer to him, muttering ‘I’m Sorry’ under his breath.

“This all stops now!” Dipper raised his hand, palm flattened out, ready to push the button when Stan appeared at the doorway. “Don’t touch that button!”

He’s hunched forward, hand leaning on the frame of the doorway as he pants. Relief washes over you upon seeing Stan. Silence fills the room for a minute and all you can hear is your heart hammer against your ribcage. Stan walks towards Dipper, beckoning him to not press the button.

“If you just let me explain—“ He’s cut off by his watch repeatedly beeping. Suddenly the ground begins to shake.

The portal powers up and the circle enlarges. The electricity spazzes and travels throughout the room, creating streaks of electrical power. Your feet lift off the ground and soon everyone’s floating up in the air. The wind is fierce and it’s whipping through every direction, pushing you towards the wall.

Dipper yells at Mable to turn off the portal before it causes anymore damage. She tugs herself closer to the button using a stray cable and while she wraps herself around the neck holding up the button, Stan is begging her to listen to him and to not press the button. He’s soon tackled by Soos who pushes him away from Mable. They all fight with each other and you’re watching with a bated breath.

The portal pulses with power, sending you back first into the wall. Stan and Dipper bicker back and forth and Mable is torn with the decision of either believing her brother or her Grunkle. She lowers her hand, eyes closed and you're almost convinced she’s going to press the button when she lets go of the button. She floats up with her arms raised. “Grunkle Stan, I believe you.” She says.

“Mable, are you crazy?! We’re all gonna—!”

The world flashes white and you're immediately knocked out. You awaken to yourself plummeting face first down to the floor. You groan, pushing yourself up with one hand and the other wiping off the dust on your face. Looking around you can see your family scattered around the room, each of them slowly waking up from whatever happened and stumbling back to their feet.

Your head quickly whips towards the portal and your heart lurches into your throat upon seeing a figure step out of it. He stands still, staring straight ahead as he takes off his hood and goggles. And what hid behind them was your father.

After the initial shock of meeting the one behind the three books and the reveal of him being related to Stan was pushed aside, you presented yourself with the help of Stan. “H-Hi, Dad.” You awkwardly greet yourself.

His eyes stop on you and he freezes, eyes blown wide and mouth slightly ajar. He takes a minute to process the absurdity of the situation before he’s snapping back to consciousness. He blinks once, his mouth stuttering as he finds the right words to say. He then blinks again, stepping a cautious step towards you. Your name softly spills out of his mouth and your heart soars hearing your Dad finally utter your name again.

You take a step forward and then another and another until you’re face to face with him. Being closer to him allowed you to see how much he has aged since the last time you saw him. “Dad…” You whisper, throwing yourself into him.

A light wheeze escapes his mouth from the sudden impact of your body crashing on him. Once he recovers, his arms are quickly wrapped around you, hugging you with so much warmth and love you almost sobbed right then and there.

He snuggled his face against your hair, breathing in your familiar scent he missed so dearly while he was away. “We have so much to catch up on.” You say so quietly that he almost lost your words if it wasn’t for you being directly near his ear. He hums in affirmation, cherishing the long awaited reunion with his daughter.

“I feel like this is another part where one of us faints again.” Mable says in utter disbelief at the scene that unfolded in front of her. “Ohoh!” Soos laughed out. “I’m so on it, dudes.” As if on command his eyes roll to the back of his head and he faints flat on his back.

HEADCANON TIME!!

• You weren’t really expecting to talk to him much due to Stan wanting to talk to his brother, but after their fight, he came looking for you. When he found you, you were sitting on the couch that was outside on the porch. You were reading a book you recently purchased from the bookstore. Nose deep in your book, you failed to realize Ford standing beside you. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his trench coat. Quietly he asked, “Is there room for one more?”

• The night was spent with the two of you getting to know each other. From your favorite color to your favorite show, what food you like to eat and so on. Ford wanted to fully understand and know you as a person. He wanted to make up all the years he lost with you.

• The next day, you awoke to the smell of your favorite breakfast food being cooked. With haste you pushed your blanket off of you and slipped on your slippers and sped off into the kitchen where Ford was buttering the pan. He looked over to you and flashed you a smile. “I made you your favorite.” He said, motioning over to the table where he laid out your breakfast. “You didn’t have to do this.” You scratched your cheek, a small laugh of surprise leaving you. “I’m just doing what I always dreamed of doing.” He shoveled out his breakfast onto his plate using a spatula. “How’s the food, kiddo?” He asks, placing the pan and spatula on the dirty side of the sink. “Actually pretty good for someone who hasn't been in this dimension for over a decade!” You jest, taking another delicious bite from your breakfast. Ford jokingly rolled his eyes, ruffling your hair as he walked past you and sat down on his chair. “Already poking fun at me.” He said, shaking his head.

• Stanford knew he had to focus on his projects, he had so many things he left unfinished that he'd been dying to get his hands on the minute he stepped foot into his dimension. But he couldn’t seem to pull himself away from you. He loved seeing you interact with the twins, he loved watching how pieces of his personality shone through you. Like the way you’re so meticulous with where you put things, or how you were forever curious about the things around you, and even the abundance of questions you’d mutter to yourself as you discovered something new. That’s all of him right there, in front of him and he couldn’t grasp such a thought that you were his!

• He finds himself gazing upon baby photos Stan took of you when you were younger. Even if he’s angry at his twin currently, he’s forever grateful that he documented such beautiful memories in a scrapbook. “Y’know, I used to tell stories about you to her.” A shriek leaves Ford. He jumps forward, the scrapbook tumbling down his lap and onto the floor. “You idiot! Be careful.” Stan sneered, kneeling down to the floor to pick up the scrapbook. “Stanley!” Ford leans his head back, trying to regain his composure. “You scared me!” He says. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” Stan waves him off, grabbing the scrapbook and tucking it in between his arms. They stand in awkward silence, eyes darting around the place uneasily. “Did…” Ford starts, shattering the silence. “Did she like the stories you told of me?” Stan smiles fondly, nodding his head. “She loved them. She thought you were some stupid amazing superhero, no matter what I told her.” Ford furrowed his brows. “Wait, what do you mean by no matter what you told her?” Stan nervously laughed. “Hey, why don’t you keep looking at these photos! Wait here, look at this one. Haha! She’s trying to eat her toes, isn’t that adorable?” “Stanley.”

• Outings between the two of you were very common. He loved being tugged around the town of Gravity Falls by you as you pointed at various different shops and locations. You told him the reasons why you hated them or loved them, and some were tied to stories that happened within the summer. He seriously questioned how you and the twins survived so many times where you were just so close to death. The mall was a place where you and him resided the most. With the money he took from Stan, he paid for almost everything you wanted. Entering the shack with so many bags was a shock to everyone. “Woah! Did you buy the whole mall?” Mable jokes, grabbing one of the bags to help you with the load. “Basically,” you laughed, instructing Mable to rally Soos and Dipper to have a little haul of what you bought. Stan watched with a raised brow as you stumbled into the living room with Mable following closely behind. “Where did you get all the money to buy her all of that?” Stan asks. “Just stole some money from some hobo.” Ford said, walking into the living room to join in on the haul. Stan didn’t understand what he said and opened the cash register. When he saw all the money he had stored the day before gone, it all clicked.

• Adventures out in the woods is a must. Gathering the twins and your dad, all four of you venture out into the woods in hopes to find something new. “Why couldn’t Grunkle Stan tag along with us?” Mable asked as she kneeled down to pluck a flower from the dirt. “Because he’s being a wet towel.” Dipper muttered, scribbling down a rough drawing of the flower Mable was picking in a book you bought him. “So what kind of anomalies you three stumbled upon?” Ford questioned. You and the twins began to dump everything onto him, from when you started seeing them to when Dipper and Mable came. Ford couldn’t truly focus on what they were saying, mostly because it was a jumbled excited mess of words, but partially because he was astonished with the trio in front of him. They went through so much and yet they’re still so headstrong. He could definitely see a little bit of him in Dipper and Mable.

• Stan would find you and Ford fallen asleep on the couch or in his lab, all huddled up together and completely knocked out. Snores filled the room and he found it amusing that you and him both snores the same. Videos and photos were definitely taken by Mable.

• Ford would tell stories of his adventures in another dimension to you. Stemming from how he started from the ground up to him getting banned from many other dimensions for stealing parts. “You’re not so different from Uncle Stan,” You laughed, shaking your head. “What! It was only a few…hundred dimensions.”

• There’s times where you’d wake up in a cold sweat, afraid that your Dad finally coming back was just a painful dream your brain played on you. But when you would get ready to find him, you’d step on his stomach or back. “Ough!” Ford groaned out in pain. Being suddenly woken up from his sleep, he sat up, looking around confused. “What are you doing sleeping on the floor?” You sat back down on your bed, pulling the blankets over you. “Is there a problem with me sleeping on the floor?” Ford asks, looking at you with squinted eyes. “No, no.” You laid back down on your bed. “Go back to sleep. I’m better now,” You say, somewhat amused with Ford sleeping on the floor beside your bed. “Goodnight, I love you.” You brush your fingers playfully across his face to annoy him. He shoves your fingers away from his face, huffing out. “Goodnight,” He shuffles to his side, looking up to you with a small smile. “I love you more, kiddo.”

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Johnny Lawrence’s daughter

Johnny Lawrence x daughter!reader

warnings: alcohol, underage drinking, classic johnny sexism <3

a/n: WHAT! ME write a fic thats not gn, i know. im shocked too but its just bc i feel johnny is so gender-stereotypey that doing this gn wouldn’t work very well but very open to a son!r or nb!r if anyone is interested (bc seriously. johnny cannot help but bring up genders). also i just want to say that a lot of this (not all!) honestly reminds me of or are actual things that have happened w my dad bc johnny is literally my dad if my dad was like 8 years older i think also i wrote this all in one sitting ALSO NO COBRA KAI SEASON 6 SPOILERS

prompt:

GIRL DAD!

you always kinda just gravitated toward living with your dad

“y/n, i’m so proud of you. i never have to worry about you. you can take care of yourself. robby on the other hand, i worry about him. i think girls are just more self sufficient” -johnny, a little drunk

“thanks dad” -you, also a little drunk (hes a “cool dad”)

he was the type of parent that “prefers that if you’re gonna do something stupid at least do it while he’s around” aka underage drinking

whenever he stays out late you fall asleep in his bed. and lock him out

“y/n! open the door!” -johnny, banging on the door

“no! your bed is more comfortable” -you

he thought it was sweet honestly but he did want to sleep in his bed

sort of like a lesson not to come home late all drunk and gross

he was VERY against letting you drive his car

“dad, i need my license!” -you

“no woman is getting behind the wheel of my firebird” -johnny

“why do you have to make it about women? i’ll fight you” -you

“you’ll lose that fight” -johnny

“oh, so you’d fight a teenage girl? wow, real classy, dad” -you

“no, but i’d fight my teenage daughter. i brought you into this world and i’ll take you out” -johnny

you honestly had a great sense of humor with johnny, but you’d check him if he said anything too messed up

“dad, it’s not the 80’s anymore, you can’t say that” -you

“dont tell me what i can and cant say! the 80’s were awesome, i wish it was the 80’s again” -johnny

“so i’ve heard” -you

he helped you with your homework as a kid until like, 2nd grade when multiplication and division got involved

he did teach you karate growing up! but mostly the basics, for self defense purposes

“hey, never let any guy try to impress you with his karate skills. he’s probably a douche” -johnny, pausing “i sure was”

late night movie marathons (70s/80s classics for sure)

he took care of you during your first hangover (high school parties, ya know)

“didn’t i teach you better than to mix liquors” -johnny

“ugghhhh” -you

yes, you have heard about daniel larusso. enough said LMAO

robby and you had a kind of sweet but distant relationship

occasional check-in texts

robby: are you doing okay with dad? he’s actually buying food and shit?

you: yeah! he’s fine right now, how’s mom? new stepdad yet? is he rich?

robby: mom’s not going anywhere she’d find a rich guy, but keep dreaming

you wear a lot of your dad’s old t-shirts. usually band tee’s

oh and he made sure you got into the “right music”

he used to drive you around in the firebird when you were a SMALL CHILD (front seat, no car seat!) and blast his old cassettes

for YEARS he’d pull the “who is this” “what song is this” game with the reasoning:

“if you wear a band shirt and some asshole asks you to name three songs, i want you to name ten” -johnny

listen. you were still “daddy’s girl” or whatever used to be a cute little saying and is now ruined but whatever

“dad, can i have twenty bucks?” -you

“for what” -johnny

“for fun. pleaseeee” -you

*johnny pulls out his wallet and gives you $40*

could he afford it? no. can he say no? also no.

the absolute fear he felt when you got your first period

“it’s fine, i can call mom” -you

“no, it’s not fine! i’ve had girlfriends before, i got this. stay here, i’ll be back” -johnny

he went to the store and bought the most random assortment of period products and pain meds and snacks and a heating pad

A for effort

when the diaz family moved in across from you guys, miguel took one look at you and johnny said:

“stay away from my daughter”

when the karate fuss got started you tried to keep your distance but sooner or later you joined the dojo and proved to your dad just how “badass” you could be

“take notes everyone, y/n’s gonna be the next all valley champ!” -johnny

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @retvenkos // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @an4aaa // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @sapphireplums // @petersgroupie // @ravenhood2792 // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @elemental-of-magic //

[envy-of-the-apple]

Watchmen

Yandere! Sung Jin-woo x reader

(Warnings: Yandere, Implied kidnapping, stalking, kinda stockholm syndrome, mc has given up on trying to escape)

After a while, you'd given up on trying to get him to talk.

At least, you think it's a him. You're not sure if monsters have genders, much less shadow monsters. He's big, however. Two long tusks prodding from either side of his mouth. Has to crouch whenever he's moving through the room Jin-woo trapped you in. You were scared shitless when he was first summoned to 'protect you'.

Now, you much prefer this monster compared to your captor.

You put down the book. You don't know how many times you've reread this, but you could probably recite it by heart. Books were the only source of entertainment you had here. Wherever here was.

You've given up trying to find those types of questions a while ago.

When you stare back at the shadow monster, he's staring right back.

"Do you know when he'll be back?"

You don't like saying his name, so you try not to say it as often. Fortunately, the shadow monster understands what you're trying to say. Unfortunately, he decides to immediately send your message over to his higher up. The shadow monster turns away, giving a low call that you recognize.

"No, no you don't have to-"

"Is there something you need, My Queen?"

You close your eyes, resisting the urge to pinch your brows. He's already bowing, deep and low to the ground. You would've preferred Igris, or Iron, maybe even Tank. Out of Jin-woo's guardsmen, Beru was your least favorite. All the soldiers were loyal to Jin-woo, but Beru's complete submission to your captor unnerved you.

But he's the only few that could talk, so you had to make due.

"It's nothing. Sorry, if I disturbed you. You're free to go." You wave him away. Beru's head lifts up, his antennae twitches.

"I was told that you had something of importance to discuss? Is that not the case?" Beru's head flicks over to your guard who now is starting to look a bit nervous. "It appears this one lied. Shall I cut off its fingers as a punishment-"

"No! No it's okay." You quickly interrupt, knowing all too well about Beru's bloodlust. "I was just wondering when he was getting back. That's all."

Beru straightens up, eager to be talking about his master. "My King has gone to a dungeon, but he won't have any issues with the raid." He preens. "He should be back by sunset."

Damn, these days, Jin-woo took less and less time to get back. You still don't understand how he's so strong, but you know your captor typically only enters Rank A dungeons or higher. It's partially why you gave up on ever escaping. Even if you got away from his army of shadow monsters, he'd still manage to find you.

"Okay, that's all I wanted to ask."

Beru tilts his head. "My Queen, were you asking because you were worried about the King?"

Another reason why you disliked Beru. He was always so insistent on your relationship with the so-called-King. You hold your tongue, however. You remember the last time you openly portrayed any emotion towards Jin-woo that was pure disdain. You've retained your fear, however.

Instead you hum, letting him think whatever he wanted. The insect flitters in pure delight before he darts away. He's probably going back to write a 12-page report about you blinking to his dear master. Knowing Jin-woo, he'd probably read it. Like soldier; like master.

Glad that Beru's gone, you give your original shadow guardsmen a sheepish smile.

"I'm sorry about that." You apologize, knowing Beru isn't just terrifying to you. The shadow monster visibly relaxes. He smiles back, both tusks showing. It's a little cute.

You reach over, patting the guy on the head. He's huge, at least four heads taller than you but with the way he's crouching beside you, it's feasible. He seems to enjoy it too.

You smile. At least there was one monster here that you enjoyed the company of.

You clear your throat and you look at the book you tossed away.

"Want me to read it to you?" You ask. The monster beams, and you decide that it's too cute to be a monster.

You only looked away for a moment. When you looked back, your reading buddy was gone, and Jin-woo had taken it's place.

He didn't look like he'd gone through a dungeon. He never did. You'd suspect him of lying if you didn't know better. Not a hair was out of place.

"Where did you send him off to?" You ask, referring to the orc-shadow.

Jin-woo thinks for a moment.

"Somewhere in Portugal." He decides on. "Forgot the city."

You hum in thought. "How was the raid?"

You don't know why you always ask this. You don't know why he always answers.

"Good." He breathes, leaning into you. He smells the same as he did when he left. Fresh. You remembered the first few times he'd left you behind to go on a raid. He'd always come back smelling like ash and blood, and that only scared you even more. Nowadays, it appears he's cut back on his bloodlust. Or he took a shower before he came back.

You let him rest his head on your lap. It's the same routine you and him always had when he came back. You stroke his hair, combing through his soft locks. You look at his clothes, his shoes. Perfectly average. He had this obsession with wanting to look human.

Even when he clearly wasn't.

"Jin?" You call because he likes it when you say his name. He hums, eyes closed.

"Why doesn't every monster have a name?"

Your question doesn't upset him. That's good. Upsetting questions make his eyes flash, teeth bare. So does begs of being let go, pleads of going home.

"Only knights rank A and above gets names. Makes things easier." He answers. "It'd be a hassle to name all 10,000 of them."

The number doesn't even feel real, but you know he isn't lying. He never is.

One of his eyes open, he stares up at you.

"Why do you want to know?"

You swallow, but you shrug anyway. "I was just curious. So he doesn't have a name? The shadow monster you just switched with?"

"No." Jin-woo continues to watch you. "Would you like to give him one?"

You jolt at his sudden question.

"What?" He smiles in a way that nearly makes you forget that he's stolen you away from your life for months.

"A name," he says, "would you like to give him a name?"

You don't know what to say. To prompt your answer, Jin-woo snaps his fingers, and the familiar shadow-monster appears before you. Seeing Jin-woo, the monster immediately bows to his master.

"Is that okay?" You ask, quietly.

"It will be." Jin-woo concedes. "You should be more comfortable with the one guarding you, after all."

That's why he was doing this. Another way of placating you. Making you feel like you had control in this drama. Like you weren't just as trapped as his thousands of puppets he pulled on his strings.

"Gan," you say anyway, "I like 'Gan'."

You're not sure what happens. You aren't a hunter. You aren't a monster. But the shadow monster seems to be listening to something.

And then, Gan smiles. Wide and toothy.

Jin-woo dismisses him with a wave, rising up from your lap to stretch.

"Have you eaten?" He asks, probably already knowing the answer from Beru.

"I haven't." You shake your head.

He pats your shoulder.

"Go wash up then." He's about to leave again, when you muster up your courage and call out his name for the second time.

"The book." You start. "I was just wondering if I could have...more?" You're careful not to insinuate how bored you were, how miserable.

He watches you. Silent. You can't tell how he took it.

"That's the second request tonight." He notes, tilting his head. "That's new."

Right, he's never been one to give something away for free. You give, he takes. Keeping you in this dollhouse isn't enough for him.

Still, you steel yourself, keeping yourself from shaking. His aura envelopes you when you step forward, it makes your knees tremble. You lean up, and quickly give a peck on the corner of his mouth.

"Please?" You ask, an inch away from his skin.

His lips quirk.

The next day when you wake up, he's gone, and Gan is cheerily holding a pile of books.

[lynnie-ee]

Day 10; Fight.

╰┈➤"Your boyfriend's goals were very clear; Make you happy, spend time with you and defend you from anyone who dared to insult you in any possible way."

╰►Gender neutral reader, one-shot, 1.9k words. Kinda based on that one tweet that was like "My girl can wear whatever she want cause I can fight."

╰► Characters: Deuce, Jade, Floyd, Epel.

╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.

╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.

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﹙❥﹚Deuce Spade ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

He tries his best, most of the time.

Every time he gets jealous or mad at someone else, he has to remind himself that he’s no longer a delinquent. 'Top students don’t engage in fights', he’d say to himself, even though he was well aware he had been in a few arguments with other students ever since he joined Night Raven College, each time promising himself it wouldn’t happen again.

Until it came to something related to you.

It was Halloween, it was supposed to be fun. You wanted to try a different costume this time, and decided to wear a more eccentric outfit, trying to match the extravagance of the other dorms.

You looked really cute, and Deuce was quick to compliment you, taking your hand with an excited demeanour, walking with you towards the Heartslabyul stand to show the rest of your friends your outfit.

He was really happy, as he walked along you, entertained as he listened to you talking about how you went into town and tried in many costumes before choosing that one, when he was able to hear a comment made by another Hearstlabyul student as they walked by.

"Well, they got no magic and no style, huh? Where did they even get that costume, at the kid's section?"

"Repeat what you just said." Deuce was quick to stop his walk, turning towards the student with a frown on his face.

"I said they look terrible." He answered with a defiant demeanour.

"They look perfect, are you out of your mind?" He got closer to the student with a menacing aura, ready to punch him if it was necessary.

"Not really, I've seen better-dressed scarecrows, why are you even letting them go outside like that?"

That was it.

Before you could even stop him, Deuce threw a punch directly at the guy's face, who wasn't even brave enough to defend himself, instead he just stood there holding his now bleeding nose, seemingly out of words now.

"And just so you know, they can dress however they want! And they got their costume at the adult section, don't say such stupid things!" He screamed as you dragged him out of the place, trying to avoid the small crowd that was starting to form due to the sudden commotion.

"Riddle's gonna kill you if he knows about this, you know?" You commented as you both walked to Ramshackle now, deciding to wait a bit before going to Heartslabyul.

"And It'll be worth it! He had no reason to say that kind of thing about you."

"I don't care, really."

"But I do! No one will insult you in front of me without getting what they deserve."

You giggled softly at his attitude, stopping briefly to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Well, thank you, my Prince Charming." You watched as he blushed, timidly holding your hand.

"Whe-whenever you need it, my love!"

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﹙𖧵ֹֺֽ໋໋݊﹚Jade Leech ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

He can definitely fight, but it won't be his first option, unless the other person is the one who starts it, which never happens, because, well, he's Jade Leech.

He prefers to use more efficient techniques to make sure people never bother you again, which is why is widely known around school that no one should mess with Ramshackle's Prefect.

So imagine his surprise when, in the middle of one of his shifts, as you were sitting on one of the stools of the bar while waiting for him to be done, he heard a most unfortunate comment.

"Doesn't Azul always bother everyone about how this is a very distinguished place? I wonder who let them in while looking like that, they look like they came here straight out of bed."

As Jade was walking to a different table, he heard two students from Scarabia, making him promptly direct his gaze towards you, sitting by the bar with your headphones, without being aware of the words directed at you. It was Saturday, and you had stayed at his dorm last night, so you had decided to wear something comfy as you waited for your boyfriend. The outfit of the day was one of Jade's hoodies, which had a small embroidery of a mushroom on the front, along with a loose pair of jeans, as you supposed nobody would look at you in the secluded corner you chose to be.

You looked absolutely adorable in his eyes, and he wouldn't stand for malicious comments about you.

"Is everything alright? Are you enjoying your meal?" He asked politely towards the group of Scarabia students, who froze up immediately when Jade appeared out of nowhere, his smile more frightening than usual.

"Ye-yeah, everything is fine."

"I'm glad to hear that, but..." His smile widened as he got closer to the student who made the comment earlier, whispering so only he could hear. "I wonder if you'd be still fine if Professor Crewel knew about how you cheated on his last exam?" An innocent tone could be heard in his voice.

"How-how did you-?"

"This is a very distinguished place, as you know. It'd be inappropriate to allow patrons with such immoral attitudes to be seen in here."

"Let me talk to Azul, you can't-"

"Uh? What was that? I can't do it, you say?" He raised an eyebrow, a curious expression on his face, as he expected an answer from the nervous student, who knew better than to make Jade Leech angry.

"We-were finished either way, right? Thanks for the service, we'll be going!" The other student interrupted, quickly getting up to get ready to leave.

"Ah, I hope you enjoyed your time here." The vicehousewarden bowed politely. "But I hope you're aware that, if you make such inconvenient comments about my partner, I won't let you go as easily." He added with a close-eyed smile that didn't match his words in the slightest, as the students went away as fast as they could.

"Uhm, Jade? Your shift is about to finish, isn't it?" You asked taking your headphones out of your head to speak to your boyfriend more properly, as he placed one of your favourite drinks in front of you, his smile remaining on his face, but this time being softer.

"Yes, my love, just wait a bit more."

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﹙𖧵ֹֺֽ໋໋݊﹚Floyd Leech ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

Some days he fights, someday he doesn't care at all, some days he'll let you defend yourself if you want.

Either way, same as Jade, you weren't bothered often. No one would risk enraging the unpredictable Leech twin, and at first, when you started dating, some people wouldn't even look at you at risk of being misunderstood by the Octavinelle second-year.

It was less extreme now, as you've dated him for a while, but there were still some people who preferred to be more cautious around you.

But of course, there'll be always stupid people who'd make rude comments even when Floyd was near.

"Wish me luck, shrimpy!" Your boyfriend looked at you expectant, an excited smile on his face.

"Good luck, Floyd, score some points, okay?" You kissed his cheek softly, giggling when he accommodated the hoodie you were wearing, before going back to the basketball court.

You were in the stands, waiting for the start of a match between Night Raven College and another school which you didn't much about, you just knew that you were supposed to be there to support your boyfriend, and your friends too.

Floyd played better when you were around, and he liked to find you right away in the middle of the crowd, which is why he gave you his hoodie before the match. A hoodie that he likes to wear loose, and considering his height, you wondered if it'd fit you right when he offered it. You were wrong, and now you were sitting while completely drowning in the piece of clothing, making you look a bit out of place. But you didn't care, as long as he was happy.

The match started and everything went smoothly, as Floyd seemed to be on top of his game, scoring points left and right as he watched you cheer on him.

Until a student from the other school spotted you in the middle of the crowd, laughing to himself and then commenting on it with one of his classmates.

"Did you see that one student over there? I wonder if all the students here dress like such a mess, that hoodie is at least four sizes bigger than them."

"Perhaps they didn't even look themselves in the mirror before coming here, how embarrassing."

Floyd frowned as he heard such a comment about you, quickly deciding his strategy. He wouldn't allow words like that to be directed at his little Shrimpy.

"Hey, Floyd, pass it to me- what are you doing?!"

BAM.

The whole gymnasium fell into silence as Floyd threw the ball in the air. The thing was, that instead of being aimed to score a point, it landed on a different place...On the head of the student from the other school.

You could only watch in surprise, as Floyd turned around to show you a thumbs-up, as if he had solved a problem you had no idea about.

"Floyd! What was that?!"

It was a very effective strategy, at least.

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﹙𑁍﹚Epel Felmier ❜ ˖ ࣪⊹ ִֶָ

He'll fight at any opportunity that he gets.

After all, that's what a good boyfriend does, right? Defending you from stupid people it's his number one priority, and he wants to show you that you can depend on him.

It reaches a point in which Vil has to intervene, as it has been a regular thing lately, something the housewarden can't allow. 'Brutes don't belong in Pomefiore', is what he tells Epel one day as he scolds him, reminding him there are more ethical ways to solve things. Now he's on observation; one more fight and he'll be punished by cleaning all the windows of the dorm.

Ever since, he has been doing good, and you help him calm down when some stupid student from another dorm says something mean, telling him they don't know anything about the two of you.

But one day, as you both hang out in the Pomefiore lounge, he hears some second-years speak to each other across the room, as if you two weren't literally a few meters away from them.

"Did you see that atrocious sweater? No matter how you look a it, it doesn't match their jeans at all. Vil should stop letting people with such bad taste enter Pomefiore, don't you think?"

"What did ya say about (Y/n)?!" Epel startled you as he suddenly got up from the sofa you both were, quickly walking towards the other Pomefiore students, who observed him with a superior demeanour.

"We were talking about how badly your partner dresses. You're a Pomefiore student, Epel, you should know better than to let them walk outside with such ugly clothing."

"I gifted them that sweater! Take back your words, you idiot!"

"Even worse, you're absolutely tarnishing Pomefiore's reputation by-"

"And the next I'm gonna tarnish is gonna be your face if ya don't apologise to them, so hurry up, would ya?" Epel interrupted, promptly getting ready for fighting.

"Epel, let's just go to my dorm, okay? If you get into another fight you'll get punished." You tried to talk some common sense into him, considering that Vil would immediately know if there was an argument in his dorm.

"They're insulting you, ain't no way I'll letting 'em get away from that."

"But Vil-"

"I don't give a damn 'bout Vil-"

"What's the meaning of this scandal?!"

Well...You'll help him clean those windows, would you?

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[venomhound]

Hazbin Hotel - Petname Headcanons

Headcanons for what terms of endearment Vox, Alastor, and Lucifer use in their relationships. I was going to do more characters, but this post got too long (AGAIN), so I just did my favs. If enough people want it, I can do a part 2? Maybe? MAYHAPS?

Part 2 now available >>HERE<< Valentino DLC post now available >>HERE<<

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; talks about what yall like to be called during sex; Daddy/Mommy kinks; Valentino mention; Lucifer really needs therapy you guys (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

What He Calls You

(NOTE: Huge credit to @bindeds for the whole 'Vox does sappy petnames' headcanon. You should read their post with it >here<. Its lived rent free in my head since I read it.)

Honestly? Vox is a menace when it comes to terms of endearment.

Vox loves to get creative and call you super sappy stuff. Things like sugar bear, honey kisses, love dove, cuddle cake.... I pray you can at least tolerate this because I have no doubt that Vox has sent past partners running for the hills by doing this.

These silly names tend to come in waves. Vox will have one that he likes to call you, use it for a short bit, then switch it up for a different one. So if there is one you particularly don't like, at least you never have to deal with it for more then a few days.

Vox doesn't like to talk about you in front of the cameras (he has a deep fear that your going to end up stolen). But when he does, he avoids using your actual name. Instead Vox calls you more... conventionally sappy petnames. Like dearest, or starlight.

Not embarrassed at all about calling you these things in front of millions of viewers. He loves you so much and feels so lucky to have you. In a perfect world and if this wasn't, you know, Hell, Vox would just openly brag about you on air 24/7.

While Vox always seems to have something new to call you, the one name that sticks around and actually gets used consistently is sugar. A classic 50s petname. He thinks it particularly suits you because your, well, sweet as sugar. And you make everything in his life better.

What You Call Him

Vox could not care less what you call him. I don't mean that in a 'he doesn't care' way, no, its the opposite. I mean you could call him literally whatever you want and Vox will love it. He just wants to be called something special and to know he is special to you.

I'm not kidding here. Everything is on the table. Cutesy names, sappy ones, playful nicknames... Literally whatever you want as long as its not straight up demeaning or embarrassing.

Don't call him Voxy though. Yeah, its a cute name he will admit; and it sounds bittersweet coming from your lips. But that name is just far too associated with Valentino. It brings back so many painful memories and raw resentment that Vox would rather not experience in your presence. If he has to at all.

I've always pictured Vox being that guy who never wants to hear his real name come from your mouth once you two start dating. You all know the type of guy I'm talking about. Dude will have an actual breakdown.

You two could be having a serious conversation or heated argument, but as soon as you say 'Vox' nothing else matters to him. Vox just gapes at you and is like "Since when am I VOX to you?! I'M YOUR CUDDLE BEAR." Or insert whatever name you use for him. He says it completely serious too.

NSFW Section

A little ironic considering he hates hearing his actual name come from your mouth normally; but when you two are in the bedroom, Vox wants you to say nothing but his name.

Vox loves nothing more then when he fucks you stupid on his cock or overstimulates you to where his name is the only word you know. When you start moaning his name like a prayer or chanting it as your voice cracks.

There is nothing more beautiful to him then those sounds. Vox could cum from those sounds alone; and he has many times. Times when one of you was away or you two were otherwise separated.

Vox would play back the sounds of your pleading during your last time together to himself. He had been away from you for too long. He desperately needed to hear your voice, his name from your lips. Its like a drug to him.

Vox tends to lean towards gentler, more classic names in the bedroom. He whispers how much he missed you, darling. While his lips greedily take yours again and again. He will kiss down your neck, mumbling against your skin how he cant wait to make his sweetheart feel good. Gorgeous, beautiful, and handsome also frequently leave his lips once more skin starts getting exposed.

I have always headcanoned Vox as a switch. When he veers towards that more dominant, possessive side, he will start using more sexually charged names like babe or kitten. But if you two have been together a long time or you end up tying the knot.... Now Vox just babbles about how perfect his wife or his husband is as he plows into you over and over.

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Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

What He Calls You

Poor deer man. Quite bluntly, he has no idea what to do when he gets actual feelings for someone. I mean, yeah, he know what to do; in theory. In practice however, its a whole different story. Things are always much easier in theory then actual reality.

Perfect example of this is when you two first become an item and Alastor tries to legitimately flirt with you. Alastor lays it on just a little bit too thick and goes straight to calling you baby.

The entire hotel gets thrown for a loop. Husk chokes on his drink, Angel Dust fucking yowls, and Vaggie is cringing into the next century.

Fun fact: 'baby' first started being used as a term of endearment in the 1920s and was all the rage during that time. So Alastor probably actually used it.

Poor boomer Alastor doesn't understand what happened until he vents to Rosie about it and she laughs at him too. Rosie has to explain to Alastor that the whole 'baby' thing has taken on a much more sexual connotation during the last, you know, hundred years.

Alastor is somehow even more embarrassed about the whole faux pas upon knowing the full context then he was before.

To avoid another, ahem... incident. Alastor just straight up asks what you would like him to call you. As long as its not something too weird or sappy he will oblige.

If you tell him to call you whatever he wants, Alastor is going to be like a deer in the headlights (pun intended) due to what happened last time. Will probably just stick to your name for awhile or test things out in private first.

Alastor is partial to calling you darling, my dear, or just love. Whichever seems to make your heart flutter most.

You can always tell when Alastor is in a particularly good/playful mood because he will call you my doe (if your female) or my buck (if your male). Alastor will also use this name if he is showing you off or you've done something to make him proud of you.

What You Call Him

If you were to ask him? Alastor would tell you to simply call him by his name or just Al. Says he isnt fond of petnames even though he uses them all the time. Guy is strange.

If you do start using petnames he wont stop you. Do keep it classy however. Don't call him anything super silly, or too sexual. He now has a vendetta against the name baby so don't call him that either.

Alastor will never directly say he likes the name, but you have noticed that when you call him love or my love his smile gets a bit wider and his eyes relax a bit.

You can get away with teasing names in private. Like princess for instance. When you first called Alastor that he gave you the dirtiest look. Not in a sexual way. I mean in a 'I dare you to call me that again, brat' way.

The second time you called him princess, Alastor's ears flattened against his head and he warned you to kindly refrain from that name. However, he couldn't hide how his tail was wagging playfully.

The third time you knew exactly what you were doing as you bolted in the opposite direction right after calling him a precious princess. Alastor, wide eyed and absolutely feral, immediately dropped everything in his hands, shattering several glasses, and gave chase.

Its become a weird game between the two of you. Alastor will never admit how much he loves to see that defiant spark in your eyes.

NSFW Section

Just like any other time, Alastor simply prefers to hear his name above all else when things get steamy. Although he does have a weak spot for being called master...

Likewise, Alastor tends to call you his pet. And like any good master with their pet, Alastor's ultimate goal is your safety and comfort. That doesn't mean he wont push you to your limits or make you perform for him however. The name is more of an unspoken promise that he will never actually hurt you.

Out of all the guys, Alastor is the one you would least expect to have a thing for calling you mommy in the bedroom (regardless of your gender). This usually happens when your overstimulated and/or Alastor is deep into a servicing mode, trying to make you feel as good as possible, and pulling as many orgasms from you as he physically can.

It also happens during his ruts. Alastor will vacillate between calling you mommy or his mate. He will growl into your neck how good of a mate you are as he fucks into you. How you are all his. Then after Alastor fills you to the brim with cum he will tell you how he, 'Cant wait for Mommy to have my fawns. Lets see how much more Mommy can take, hm?'

The whole mommy kink is a secret he will take with him to oblivion however. Alastor will make sure anyone who knows of it does too.

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Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

What He Calls You

Sorry; but I'm on the bandwagon that Lucifer uses duck based petnames for his partner. Duck or ducky are his go to names. Period. Especially when he is excited about something or gushing over how cute you are.

Lucifer genuinely thinks your as cute as a duck. Coming from him, thats quite a compliment. If you let him, Lucifer will 100% do the cutesy baby-talk voice at you when you do something particularly endearing and his cuteness meter is overloading.

When Lucifer is in front of people and trying to act normal (as in, masking hardcore), he will instead address you by a rather curt darling or my dear.

Although it may come across like Lucifer is distancing himself from you, he isn't actively trying to be less affectionate to you at all. Crowds/people in general are just super stressful for the guy and he is trying his absolute best to look like he has his shit together.

Once he relaxes a bit, you get some liquid courage in him, or if you two are with some friends, Lucifer moves to more intimate names.

When you go to sit, Lucifer will beckon you to come closer, doll, until your practically sitting on his lap. Then he will look at you with the most adoring eyes as he asks how are you enjoying yourself, sweetheart? He really does love you more then you can imagine.

What You Call Him

Lucifer tends to like the sweetest, sappiest terms of endearment. The ones that make your chest fill with butterflies and anyone within earshot nauseous. God bless the hotel for dealing with your shit because you two are actual diabetes.

Call him teddy bear, cuddle bug, or snuggs because of how physically affectionate he is. Also just because of how wonderful Lucifer's cuddles are and how you both could spend the rest of eternity in each other's arms.

Other good options are muffin, honey bun, or cupcake. Why the food names? Because Lucifer LOVES to cook for you of course! Its not just the pancakes either, this guy actually does know how to cook. One of his favorite things is to surprise you with a night in and a completely home made three course meal. (But thats for another post!)

If you want to compete with Lucifer's whole duck thing and give him a matching bird petname, you can call him lovebird. Lucifer might return the favor and start calling you his lovebird too. Because its exactly what you are. You both really are just a pair of lovebirds.

If you don't like ANY of those, buttercup or sweetpea are also good options. Two cute flower names that tie nicely into Lucifer's whole 'garden of Eden' thing.

You could also straight up call him cutie. Its a vicious cycle with this one. Because whenever you call him that, Lucifer gets the happiest, most adorable smile on his face. So you end up wanting to call him it more...

You got lots of great options with him. But if you want something more """serious"""; sweetie, sweetheart, honey, or shortening his name to Luci will still make his heart flutter without getting too crazy.

Another fun thing you can do, is call him my King or my Liege before kissing the back of his hand. Lucifer cant help but get flustered and start giggling like an idiot.

NSFW Section

Do I even need to say it? Do I even need to say what two words turn this man into an actual puddle on the spot?

Like seriously. Those words hold so much power that you have to be super careful with how you wield it. Lucifer could be so distracted, excitedly telling you about a new project he is working on. Then you just mutter how much of a good boy he is and every muscle in Lucifer's body instantly tenses. You giggle as you see a surprised shudder run up his spine. His cock already standing at full attention.

Lucifer has a weakness for the name pretty boy as well. Caress his soft skin, leaving a trail of hot kisses, before whispering how much of a pretty boy he is; and Lucifer will reward you with the most sinful moans.

Be careful with him though; Lucifer may be the sin of pride, king of hell, and the fucking devil, but the man wears his heart on his sleeve and can easily be hurt by your words if your not careful.

Don't degrade him. This actually really hurts him and can easily send Lucifer spiraling. Before punishments, tell him he has been a bad boy, a naughty boy. Tell him he has to make up for it and prove how good he really is.

Praise on both of your ends. Lucifer constantly tells you how beautiful, gorgeous, and/or handsome you are. When you return the praise, the devil melts.

Lucifer will call you angel or my angel, because to him, your beauty rivals all of heaven itself. You also came into his life and saved him as if you were an angel sent just for him. He knows that would never happen of course; but he likes to dream.

Has a lowkey daddy kink as well but is ashamed of it since he is an actual dad. But you can easily get him riled up by playing into it and calling yourself baby or mommy. Ooohh boy will this devil then be ready to actually make you a mommy~

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Cute fic by @raginglesbian2006 where Lucifer is pining after the reader then MELTS when they call him a good boy can be found >>HERE<<

Also one of the many posts that contributed to my 'Alastor has a mommy kink' brainhole can be found >>HERE<<. Its a general relationship headcanon post by @greenandsorrow but goes over NSFW stuff too

[gotham-daydreams]

First Sightings

Day 1 {Challenge Masterlist}

It's just another day in Gotham, until it isn't.

[Yandere Batfam × Gender Neutral! Cop Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Suicide and brief mentions of blood.](Note: Unless otherwise specified, it's to be believed that actions involved with harming, hurting, or heavily injuring the self are not talking about the Batfamily or the reader. Still, you have been warned.)

Just some set up, enjoy!

---------------------------------------------

It was another bright day in Gotham. With traffic bustling, the streets full of all sorts of people, and everyone going about their daily lives, as if the city they lived in wasn’t so dangerous after all.

Duke was doing his usual patrols, staring bright and early as always - wanting to prove himself just as capable as his siblings as always, along with just generally trying to keep everyone safe while the rest of his family got some much needed rest. This is his city too, after all, and Duke would be damned if anything happened to it on his watch.

Though, as always, there wasn’t much to do. Even if there was the occasional petty criminal that tried to do some small crime they thought they could get away with - like now, with some shady guy running away with a… potted plant? Geez, Duke never thought someone would steal just for some home decor, but hey, he’s seen people try to steal weirder and smaller things during his life for one reason or another.

“Hey! Heads up!” He shouts, not giving the criminal any time to react as he already deals a swift kick to their back, knocking them down to the ground. The pot in their hands goes flying in the air as they let go of it unexpectedly, but Duke is swift to catch it, and keeps his foot on the criminal’s back. “Where are you even planning to bring this? You don’t even have a car to get away in? Man, you are seriously unprepared.” Duke chuckles, raising a brow as he looks down at the criminal. Just where was this guy planning to go, anyway? Back home? To wherever his other criminal friends are? Who knows, though Duke didn’t have enough information to really guess, now that he thought about it. This guy was unprepared, more so than Duke was expecting, actually.

Nevertheless, a petty crime is still a crime, prepared or not. So, going through the usual routine of his with things like this, Duke just restrained the criminal, and notified the GCPD as always.

While Duke was doing that, the criminal seemed to shake their head, and looked around, as if snapping out of a trance. The man’s brows furrow, and he looks to the young vigilante - only to struggle when he realizes what the young hero is doing, “HEY! What’s the big idea?! Let go of me you- you yellow weirdo!” The man barks out, actions as rough as his voice.

Again, Duke chuckles, “Nothing much, just handling petty thievery. Say, what was your idea for the pot? Doing some home decoration or something?” The man looks at the vigilante, seemingly more confused than before.

“The hell are you talkin’ about? I didn’t do nothin’-!” “Right, okay. I know it’s just one pot, but it’s still something that isn’t yours. Honestly, I’m just wondering why you didn’t pay for it, and only just stole one of them-”

“I DIDN’T TAKE NOTHIN’ EITHER!” The man shouts, only to take a quick breath when he sees that all the barking isn’t doing much, “Look- I dunno what you’re on about, I was just trying to go about my day! Now, if you would just let me go, I’m sure we could clear this whole understanding-!”

Duke sighs, “Are you even from around here? Seriously, who do you think you’re trying to fool with all that bullshit?”

The man scoffs, pointedly looking away, and ignoring the stares people give as they pass. “Fine, whatever, then.” He mumbles gruffly, seemingly giving up… that is, until, Duke is almost finished tying him up - then the man suddenly springs into actions as in one swift action he uses his leg to hook around the put, and kick it up to the vigilante, its content spilling out and causing Duke’s grip to loosen just enough for the man to stand and make a run for it.

It’s a miracle what a batton straight to the head can do, and it’s especially helpful that with enough strength it can knock someone out.

Huffing, Duke brushes the dirt off of him with one hand, seeing as he somehow caught the pot with his other. Though, it’s only now that he realizes the strange contents, making him furrow his brows.

Did dirt… always look this red?

Not knowing what to do about that little detail, Duke ignores it for now, and just continues with his ‘routine’ as he finishes apprehending the criminal who didn’t get very far, and went to return the pot to the floral shop. However, when he got there, he noticed that some of the employees were moving pots and bags of dirt out of the shop.

“Uh, I believe someone is looking for this?” He spoke out, holding up the almost-stolen pot in his hand, with only a small amount of dirt now left inside, the plant… missing, now that Duke was paying more attention. Was there anything in there initially? Was it just… a pot of dirt? Did floral shops even sell things like that?

Before Duke could delve into his own questions too much, a short woman approaches him, age written on her face as it sags her skin and wrinkles it, but still, she offers a sigh, and moves to take the pot off of the young vigilante’s hands, “Yes, thank you. It all happened so fast- he just came right in and snatched one for our calla lilies! Though, for a man who looked so focused, he sure didn’t get very far…” she huffs, shaking her head. The vigilante could only nod, and offer a hum.

Just as the woman was about to turn away, likely to go back to her job, Duke spoke up, “Hey, what’s with all this, anyway?” He gestures to the three or so employees who have been moving pots of varying sizes and bags of dirt from in the store, to outside and setting them to the side, out of the way. As if going to throw them out, or something along those lines - either way, the intent was to get rid of them, that much was obvious.

The woman stops, glancing at the work being done before looking back at Duke, “Just a bit of cleanup, so to speak. Woke up this morning and found that some of the dirt was turning a deep red. Don’t know what it is, but it’s affecting the plants, since- see, look here,” she gestures for one of the employees to come over, and when they do, the woman moves some of the dirt by the flower - showing the lower stem and roots. They look an odd, almost abnormal shade of red, like a strange mix of pink the further up the stem it goes, but the deeper in the ground it grows, the darker it gets, almost turning into a sickening shade of magenta, and so on. “I’m sure you can tell, but I’ll confirm- that’s not supposed to happen. Maybe it’s a virus or something, but we don’t want it to spread to the other plants, so, we’re getting rid of it. All of it.” Handing off the pot in her hands to the employee, she waves them off, letting them get back to work.

Though, with that she just sighs and shakes her head, “Honestly, haven’t seen something like this before, but what can you do? It’s a shame since it got to a lot of the pots, but anything that looks remotely wrong, we’re trying to just toss out. God bless those folks from Star City- said they’ll get rid of it, and hey, less work on our hands. Not like anyone else is willing to help out, but then again, this is Gotham.”

Now that caught Duke’s attention.

“Star City? Ain’t that a few ways away? What the hell are they doing here?” He asks, raising a brow.

The woman shrugs, “Beats me, but that ain’t my problem. Now- if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a job to do and a shop to run, kid.” With that, the woman walks back into the store, and Duke is left on his own once again. A little confused, he lets out a small ‘huh’, but ultimately leaves it at that, but does look at the work being done one last time.

It’s only then that he notices people walking out of an alley nearby, taking some of the pots and bags of dirt the employees are putting down, and loading them into a truck that he could barely make out within the shades of darkness. Huh, weird. How… convenient. Weird, a little suspicious, and Duke was honestly skeptical, but they weren’t breaking any laws, right? Could he just leave this be as is? Though, what would anyone need for a bunch of dirt and plants that were probably dying or something? Sure, there was a certain someone that came to mind, but did that really make sense? This didn’t feel like Ivy, but who else could it really be? Was there someone new at play? Something else going on? Or was it really just some weird plant virus, and was he just overthinking this?

Sighing, Duke just shook his head at himself. He could leave it be for now, though he couldn’t deny it - for people outside of Gotham, they sure looked shady like any other Gothamite. If the lady hadn’t mentioned they were from Star City, Duke honestly wouldn’t have known otherwise, and it was usually easy to tell when someone came from out of the city - so that was saying something.

Regardless, Duke was clearly out of his element here, so he went to just go back on patrol…

… There was no harm in wasting one small tracker though, right? It was just one, after all, and besides - it couldn’t hurt to follow his gut just this once.

-----------------------

Finishing up the last criminal, and apprehending them as usual, Duke took a breath. Patrol was get about finishing up, and besides the usual hiccups and such here and there, everything went relatively smoothly - but damn, the dirt on his suit from earlier was still being stubborn, maybe he could ask Alfred to help him clean it when he got back-

“Hey! Don’t go off just yet,” a voice calls out, and Duke looks in the direction… only to be met with another unfamiliar face. One thing was for sure, though, they definitely weren’t from Gotham. “You’re the Signal, right? Wow, it’s incredible to meet you in person, and to see you in action! Though, I guess you’re about to call it, huh?” The vigilante can’t help but blink at their words. They were from out of town, and knew him? Well… that didn’t happen very often. Hell, some people in Gotham still don’t know who he is - not that Duke did this job for fame and recognition, but still it felt strangely… good? Refreshing? To be noticed and even recognized by an outsider?

Still, knowing he couldn’t just stand there like an idiot despite how surprised and taken aback he is, Duke clears his throat, and manages a, “Uh, yeah. Somethin’ like that, I guess.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he takes a quick breath before adding, “Anyway, what do you want-?” “Oh! I don’t want to take up too much of your time! I just wanted to give you something- y’know, as a thanks for doing what you do, and a general token of appreciation. ‘M sure you don’t get that a lot around here, but not everyone can do what you do, y’know? So, here! It’s just a little something, and besides, you look like you could use a small pick-me-up for the road.” The person hands Duke a small bag, and a coffee cup. It was a little suspicious, maybe, but it wouldn’t hurt if he just… takes it, right? No need to eat it, he can check it later - but he’s allowed to take it right? Not like he has to eat it. Definitely not. Nope.

Though, even as he does, Duke can’t help but be confused, “Wait, hold on- who are you? Why… do this?”

The person seems to blink at the question, as if not expecting it for a moment before they snicker to themselves, and shake their head, amused, “Right, sorry. The name’s [Last Name], just got transferred to Gotham for a case. No need to be skeptical, I’m a cop, and here, for proof- I’ve got my badge on me,” rummaging through your pocket, well, there it is. Your badge…

Huh, what’re you doing all the way from Metropolis?

Still, it does make Duke feel a bit better. Not entirely, granted, but some form of better regardless. Didn’t explain everything, and obviously he wouldn’t be any less careful, but again, he’d take it. For now.

“So… you’re on duty now?”

That gets another snicker out of you, “Not ‘til later, but that’s not important. I won’t keep you any longer, I’m sure you're as busy as a bird, yeah? Well, then we best be going our separate ways.” Before Duke even gets a chance to respond, you already turn on your heel, and begin to walk off. Waving behind you, a last, “See you soon,” is said and again, Duke is left by himself, and to think about that odd little encounter.

Were people from Metropolis this friendly? Bubbly? Personable? Weird? Well, anyway, Duke just looks down at the brown bag and coffee cup in his hands. The gesture was nice, if there wasn’t anything weird about what you gave him - even if the gesture itself was strange, and Duke definitely wasn’t used to it. How could he be? Forget about Gotham being Gotham for a second, how was he, as a vigilante, as a hero supposed to handle this? Was just, taking it and accepting the gesture, really the best move? Sure, you caught him a little off guard, but what did that say about him? Especially if a civilian can just sneak up on him like that.

The only thing Duke can figure to do now is just leave it be. It would be weird to give it back, and push comes to shove he can just throw it away. Nothing wrong with that, and it wasn’t anything personal either. Just… caution. Nothing wrong with being careful.

… Okay, he has to stop over thinking this. He’s been standing here for too long anyway, he has to get a move on. It was just a nice gesture, and he already accepted it. He can just throw it on the way back home, no big deal. There’s nothing to think about, nothing to mull over or debate. He should just focus on finishing up, and getting home so he can finally get some homework done, and turn in for the night. That’s all. That’s what should be on his mind.

Duke takes one final breath, before doing just that as he heads home. Brushing off the odd but short interaction to the side, and leaving it be for now.

… So, Metropolis, huh?

--------------------------

When the night rolls around, Gotham is as it always is. Trouble. Though that’s nothing new, and especially not for the vigilantes that protect the city - but if that’s a good thing or not is the part that’s up for debate.

Regardless, just as the day had gone and went relatively smoothly, so did the night - so far, anyway. Couple of thieves and gangs here and there, some sightings of henchmen and trying to put dents in the plans of bigger, more dangerous villains, and even some smugglers - which, Cassandra and Damian were able to track one group in particular much easier thanks to Duke following his gut. It was strange, to track down a truck just full of weird soil, but hey, this was Gotham, nothing phased any of them anymore. Even if that led to a small group, which seemed to be holding some weird ceremony or meeting  - Cassandra and Damian quickly dealt with it, and moved on with their night - going to take care of another small batch of criminals that were nearby and trying to break into a bank. Though, again, nothing noteworthy.

It was almost strange, but it was also good to not have a night that wasn’t exciting or thrilling. Left a little room to relax, especially for those that did this practically every night, so it was at least a little nice. As nice as a night in the city could be, that is, but refreshing nevertheless.

Honestly, even Bruce was starting to become a little convinced that nothing of note would really happen - that is, until he was going over something with Gordon on the rooftop of the GCPD. It started off normal enough, with plans being discussed, possibilities and near certainties thrown around, along with what the GCPD could do and so on, though all is interrupted by a new face.

“Commissioner! Officer [Last Name] has new information on the case-! Oh, um, am I interrupting something?”

It’s easy to tell when someone isn’t from Gotham, and when you’re someone like Batman, that becomes even easier to tell. Honestly, if he had to take a guess, he’d assume the officer was from one of the bigger cities. Maybe Metropolis, considering the accent and how the officer spoke, seeing as he lacked the certain gruffness all Gothamites held at the back of their throat. For Cassandra, it was how their body language read. Even if she couldn’t exactly deduce where the officer had come from, she could see they were new in some way, and obviously nervous like any rookie was when they see them for the first time. Damian… well, he didn’t care, and scowled at the sight of the officier regardless. After all, what kind of idiot just comes on the roof like this, and strolls up to their superior so casually? Don’t get him started on that tone.

Gordon, meanwhile, turns to the new face, and sighs, “You’re fine, what’d officer [Last Name] find?”

With that, the officer explains what was relayed to them - something about finding another one of the locations for some kind of cult, things of note that were found at the scene, more mentions of ‘that event’ again, and how the officer that found out this information got a hold of one of the members and wanted to know if it’d be possible to bring them in for questioning.

“And what happened to the other cult members at the scene?” Gordon asks gruffly, quirking a brow when he hears that you were only able to bring in one person, especially when it sounded like there was a whole ceremony going on. Surely there had to be a couple more than that, right? Not to mention that you couldn't have gone in by yourself, Gordon didn’t peg you for the type, not to mention that it just didn’t make any sense to assume that - were all of you folks from Metropolis just so incompetent that all you could manage to do was catch one guy?

The officer fidgets, seemingly nervous at the question, “Well… you see commissioner..” he drags on for a moment, averting his gaze for a moment before looking back at Gordon, “The rest killed themselves before they could be cuffed.”

What?

“How?”

The officer continues to fidgets, but a noticeable and physical effort is made to steel himself, “We’re looking into that right now- some shot themselves, others seemed to take some kind of poison- which took effect when they bit something in their mouths. We- we tried to stop some of them so that we could take in more members! Though… some already, uh, ‘got to it’ the moment we arrived.” It was more than obvious that the officer added that last bit about their efforts to lighten the situation a bit, though it was quickly ruined by that last thing he managed to say. Still, he tried to add, “There was only a handful, no more than nine members at the scene, but… well…” he noticeably swallows.

“I think it’s best you read the report when you’re… done with whatever you’re currently discussing, commissioner.” 

Gordon can really only stare at the officer for a moment, before sighing heavily and rubbing temple, “Is this normal?” He asks.

The officer seems taken aback by the question, “Pardon?”

“You’ve been on this case with the others who came in, yeah?” Gordon doesn’t wait for a response as asks, “So tell me, is this behavior normal?”

“Well- you see-”

“Just answer the question, son.”

“...” The officer grows quiet, before giving a hesitant nod, “Yes, commissioner.”

The only response Gordon can give is a harsh huff before he pulls out a cigarette, and lights it, “Just my god damn luck.”

Underneath the cowl, Bruce furrows his brows. Usually when strange activity starts to spike, he’s the first to know about it. He should be the first to know about it. However, besides an odd feeling he’s been having for the past few days, he hasn’t seen anything notable during his patrols. The fact that this was news to him immediately struck Bruce as a problem, and a very big one at that. If there was a cult in Gotham that killed themselves the moment they got caught - he shouldn’t know about it. Caught onto it first, but how had he not until now? Until tonight of all nights?

Aiming to correct this problem quickly, Bruce takes a step forward, “Commissioner,” he calls out gruffly, voice low, and holding a certain edge to it now. One that was more prominent now.

Gordon looks over to Batman as he takes a brag, letting the smoke escape his lungs with a harsh exhale, “A cult of sorts has been running around, trying to do who knows what, or why. Apparently, these guys,” he gestures to the officer who’s now standing there awkwardly, just a few steps away from the door, “have been following and trying to put a stop to this group for a while now. Even followed them all the way from Metropolis- and insisted on offering help, since we got enough problems to deal with here.”

They came all the way from Metropolis? Well, that didn’t make any sense. Especially considering the hero that looks over that city. How has this cult been able to come all the way to Gotham? How do they even still exist to begin with if they came from Metropolis? Something isn’t adding up here.

“Metropolis?” Bruce then looks to the officer, who immediately tenses under the gaze of the vigilante, “Who's behind the case?”

“That- that would be officer [Last Name]- uh, sir?” When Bruce narrows his eyes, the officer corrects himself, “I- I mean detective Greenwood!”

The older vigilante huffs through his nose, but accepts the response for now. At least this gives him places to start, even if it’s not much right now, Bruce could work with it. He’s worked with less before.

Even so, he moves onto the most obvious question, “Is the detective here right now?”

“I don’t believe so- I don’t think he even came in tonight,” talk about convenient, “but- but officer [Last Name] should’ve just gotten back, and- and some of the others are around the station!” Bruce only looks to the door, and out to the city before looking back at the unnamed officer.

As if understanding the silent ‘command’, the officer shuffles to the side with a slight shiver, and Bruce walks through the door, going down into the station. Cassandra and Damian, who have been watching and just sort of listening to everything, look at each other. Some kind of silent conversation seems to pass in between them before Cassandra offers a shrug, and Damian sucks his teeth. As they move to follow after Bruce, the officer moves away a bit more, and eventually looks at Gordon once the younger vigilantes head down the stairs.

“Are they… always like this?”

“You get used to it.”

———————————

It wasn’t hard to find the people the unnamed officer was talking about as Bruce could see a couple of people moving someone in cuffs to a prison cell, and the blood on some of their clothes also gave them away. They were only small splatters, but evident all the same, and the smell gave away what couldn’t be seen regardless. You seemed to stand out - having the most blood on you, and given the explanation from earlier, it was obvious who did and didn’t rush in immediately. The sight… must’ve been gruesome.

Regardless, despite how busy the station was, Bruce was able to make his way through without much trouble - people naturally moved out of his way, and despite moving silently, it’s like everyone knew to avoid him and not get in his way. The same could be said for Cassandra and Damian, albeit for different reasons.

Getting information was relatively easy, and most of the people in your little group were fairly cooperative, which definitely helped. Everyone shared the extent that they knew about what was happening, and gave some information about how it related back to some things they had seen in Metropolis, which in itself was especially interesting and appreciated. The main thing Bruce could take away was that whatever was happening was nothing new. If anything, the only thing ‘new’ about it was the sudden transfer from Metropolis to Gotham - to which, only you were skeptical if that was even new at all. Aside from that, however, most of what you and the other officers who came in from Metropolis had seen in Gotham, you’ve seen before. For how long? Well, Bruce had yet to get a definite response, and only you seemed to get him closer to an actual number than anyone else.

Speaking of, you were the only one who had personally come up to him first, saying, “You’re Batman, correct? I assume you’re here to talk about the case? I’m officer [Last Name], and have been working with detective Greenwood the longest.” Which wouldn’t be so odd if not for the small detail that you had also introduced yourself first. You were straight to the point, mentioned your position, relation to the case, and really, it was a little too convenient if Bruce had a say about it.

Regardless, speaking to you was just as easy as it was for the others, and if anything, Bruce hardly had to speak at all - like you already knew the information he was going to ask for. Your words were short, kept to the point, but not vague or misleading. Despite your monotone, almost cold voice, and looking as if you had no energy left, you explained what you could and gave what you were able to with what you personally experienced, but also had learned by working so closely with Greenwood. You held the same tone and directness when Damian rarely pitched in a remark or question of his own.

Safe to say, when the night came to an end, and the family headed in for the night, Bruce didn’t even bother trying to sleep as he got straight to work. It was time to catch up on some things, and he’d be damned to fall behind on things happening in his city.

[crescenthistory]

could i get f.4 "you woke me up for this?" with barty? tysm xoxo 💗💗

every single time someone makes a barty request, an angel is born, or whatever that saying is. had to jump on this immediately, thank you for the request love<33

Prompt: F.4 "You woke me up for this?"

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: not proofread, unbelievably soft, a lot of banter and back-and-forth (slight sunshine x grumpy dynamic where reader is grumpy), barty sneaking into your dorm is a typical occurrence, no gender mentioned/gender neutral reader (as far as i can recall), implied insomnia, implied mental health struggles on barty's end, slight mention of scars at the end, close physical proximity/cuddling

Note: this got way softer than i expected, but i really just love him you guys

The velvet black of the night pressed against the windows of the Slytherin dorms, thick and unyielding. The soft glow of the enchanted ceiling in the common room had dimmed hours ago, and the castle itself was silent, save for the occasional creaks of ancient stone settling in the night.

Peace. Blissful, undisturbed peace.

You were nestled under layers of blankets, sunk deep into the comfort of your bed. The dormitory was cool, a chill hanging in the air, but you had cocooned yourself snugly. The last remnants of sleep tugged at your consciousness, heavy and sweet, drawing you back into the oblivion of dreams.

Until—

“Treasure…”

A voice, teasing, playful, cut through the silence.

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, ignoring it.

“Treasure.”

This time, the voice was closer, almost a whisper, right by your ear. A hand—warm and familiar—poked at your shoulder.

You groaned, curling deeper into your blankets, hoping to disappear completely.

“Go away, Junior.”

“Come on, wake up.”

It wasn’t just the voice now. Fingers were tugging at the corner of your blanket, trying to pull it away from your face.

Another groan escaped your lips, and you finally cracked open an eye, squinting against the dim light that seeped in from the common room. Standing beside your bed was your personal idiot with his familiar grin plastered across his face, eyes gleaming with the excitement of someone about to cause trouble.

“Barty, no,” you muttered, voice thick with sleep. “I’m asleep.”

He let out a dramatic sigh, tossing himself down onto your bed, stretching out beside you as if he belonged there. You shushed him as the bed squeaked, not wanting to wake your roommates, who you now were grateful were deep sleepers. His limbs splayed chaotically across your bed, one leg in each corner, arm draped across your stomach as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Hellooo,” he murmured again, a soft lilt in his voice that always seemed to stir something in you, even in the dead of night. “I need you.”

“No, you don’t,” you grumbled, trying to shove him off, but he was persistent, curling against you with all the determination of a cat who had found its spot. “Whatever it is can wait until I’ve had my beauty sleep.”

“You’re already beautiful,” Barty said without hesitation, his grin only growing wider. “I’m bored. And you’re fun.”

“I was asleep.”

“I know, but I’m awake, and that’s more important, don’t you think?”

Your only response was to groan again and attempt to roll away from him. Barty’s quick reactions saved him, as he clutched onto you so that he rolled along with you, ending up on the other side of your bed. His arms tightened around you, effectively trapping you against him. 

You finally open your eyes properly, seeing him grinning at you, face inches from yours. Part of you almost hoped this was about to be an emotional breakdown of some sorts, so that it might actually warrant breaking into your room to disturb your slumber.

Unfortunately, Barty was in a great mood.

“Now that you’re up – what’cha wanna do?”

“You woke me up for this? To quench your thirst for entertainment?”

“Precisely.” 

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, but there was no real heat in your words. You were used to this by now. Barty had a way of worming his way into your space, uninvited and unapologetic, until you gave in – which you always did.

“That’s why you love me,” he teased, voice warm against your skin as he nuzzled closer.

“I tolerate you,” you corrected, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you with the slightest twitch of a smile.

Barty noticed, of course. He always did. “Aha!” He said a bit too loudly, earning him a swat on the arm. “You’re smiling, Treasure. Evidently, you can’t resist me, either.”

“I’m frowning.”

“You’re smiling.”

“Frowning.”

“Definitely smiling.”

“Either?” Your sleep-ridden brain eventually processed his sentence.

“You heard me.” Cheshire cat grin remained plastered on his face. Stupid face.

Before you could protest further, Barty shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you. His dark curls were a mess, green strands sticking out from random places, tumbling into his eyes, and he looked far too pleased with himself for your liking.

“Okay then.” You hooked a finger into the collar of his t-shirt and looked at him expectantly. “What do you want, Barty?” Your voice was softer now, mostly to incite him to keep the general volume down – and perhaps partly out of fondness for your peculiar best friend. Perhaps you liked the way he clung to you, even at inconvenient times, the way he needed you.

Barty’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker you couldn’t place passing over his face, though his grin didn’t falter. “I wanted to see you,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. “Do I need to want anything more? I couldn’t sleep.”

“And you decided that meant I shouldn’t either?”

“Exactly.” He beamed, clearly proud of his logic.

You stared at him for a moment, half-expecting him to break into another fit of laughter or say something ridiculous, but he didn’t. Instead, he just looked at you, his gaze soft and affectionate in a way that still took you by surprise sometimes. For all his chaos and insanity, Barty had a way of making you feel like you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him when he looked at you like that.

It was disarming, and, despite your best efforts, you found yourself softening, your irritation fading like mist in the morning sun.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, but your voice was gentle now, resigned.

“That much we know.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, you let out a long, exasperated sigh and reached up to push the stray curls out of his face with your hand not currently tucked into his collar. Both for no particular reason – you just enjoyed the closeness. His hair was soft under your fingers, and you could feel the warmth of his skin where your hand brushed against his forehead.

“Tell me then, rascal,” you said after a moment. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

Barty’s grin faltered slightly, the usual mask of chaotic energy slipping just a little. He shifted, lying back down beside you and resting his head on your pillow, his face inches from yours. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, and you could see the gears turning in his mind, like he was trying to decide how much to tell you.

“It’s just…everything,” he said finally, his voice unusually soft. “You know how it is. My dad, school, all of it. It gets to me sometimes. And then I start thinking, and when I start thinking, I can’t stop, and…well, here I am.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the honesty in his tone. Barty wasn’t usually one to talk about his feelings – at least, not in any serious way. He was more likely to brush everything off with a joke or a snarky comment, hiding behind his manic energy and that sharp, clever mind of his. But now, in the dim light of your dorm, he seemed more vulnerable than usual, the edges of his bravado softened.

You sighed again, but this time it was a softer sound, more understanding than annoyed. “You should’ve just said that instead of waking me up with your usual nonsense.”

Barty chuckled, though there was a faint edge to it. “What, and miss the chance to annoy you? Never.”

You rolled your eyes again, but this time you didn’t push him away. Instead, you reached out and brushed your fingers against his cheek, a small gesture of comfort that he seemed to appreciate. He closed his eyes at the touch, leaning into it slightly, like a cat seeking warmth.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you said quietly after a moment.

“Do what?”

“Deal with everything. Your dad, all the expectations. It’s a lot, Barty.”

He opened his eyes again, and for a moment, you saw something raw and unguarded in them. “I have to,” he said simply. “What else can I do? Run away? Disappear? I’ve thought about it, you know. Just leaving everything behind. But then…I think about you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” He reached out, his fingers brushing against your hand, tracing lazy patterns on your skin. “You keep me grounded, Treasure. Without you, I’d probably go completely mad.”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips at his words, even though you tried to suppress it. “You’re already mad, Barty.”

He grinned, a spark of mischief returning to his eyes. “True. But you keep me from going completely off the deep end.”

You huffed out a soft laugh. “Well, I’m glad I can be of service.”

Barty shifted closer to you, his arm slipping around your waist. “You’re more than that, though. You know that, right?”

Your heart did a strange little flip in your chest at his words, and you felt your cheeks warm. You did know though – he always made sure you did, in one way or another.

“I’m not good at this,” he murmured, his voice low. “I’m not good at…feelings. But I’m good at knowing what I want. And I want you. Always have.”

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say to that. Barty was the one presence in your life you could count on, no matter what gave. Somehow, you realised you hadn’t fully grasped just how much he meant to you – feelings weren’t exactly your forte, either. When he lies beside you in your bed, all soft and serene, it’s easier to understand.

“I know,” was all you whispered, voice barely audible.

Barty’s gaze flickered, tenderness flashing on and off across his face, as if he couldn’t quite decide if he wanted to stick with it. He reached up, brushing his fingers against your cheek, and for a moment, the world outside your little bubble of blankets and whispered words seemed to fall away

His fingers lingered on your cheek, feather-light, as if he was afraid you might disappear. His eyes were uncharacteristically calm. It was unsettling and comforting all at once, and you weren’t sure how to process it.

“You’re not supposed to be this serious, you know,” you teased, trying to break the tension that had settled between you. It wasn’t unwelcome, but it was unfamiliar territory, and you preferred the safety of routine. You both pushed each other to confront your fears in that sense.

He chuckled softly, his lips curling into a soft smile, and your heart ached a little as you realised it was best described as intimate. “Don’t worry, Treasure. I’m still a menace. But even menaces need their moments.”

“You take all the moments you need.” You shifted slightly closer to him at that, knees brushing his through the blanket – he never bothered slipping beneath it.

“Nah,” he teased. “Then we’d be here all night. And day.”

“I wouldn’t mind spending all night with you here.”

“Oi!” he whisper-yelled at you, eyes jokingly widened. “Are you flirting with me, Treasure? You can’t turn the tables on me like that when I’m all vulnerable and shit.”

“I can do whatever I want, Junior.” You stuck your tongue out at him before laughing quietly at his facial expressions. 

“That you can.”

“I deserve it after you woke me up.”

“Oh, come on,” Barty said, his voice dropping to that low, affectionate tone he used when he wanted to get under your skin. “You love it when I wake you up. Admit it. Love spending time with me.”

“I absolutely do not.”

“You literally just said you do.”

“And where’s your evidence?” You quirked your brow at him and he squinted his eyes at you. Pulling “the evidence card”, as he called it, was your favourite way to get out of being held accountable for saying something sweet to him – he hated it, or so he said.

“First of all, rude.” He lifted a finger to shake in your head, fake gasping as you pretended you were about to bite it. “Second of all, you do love me. Say it.”

“Maybe just a little bit.” You gave in, small part of you wondering if maybe he needed to hear it.

“Methinks a lot of bit.”

“No way.” You couldn’t give it to him entirely either, though.

He clearly didn’t mind your bickering too much as he laughed, the sound quiet and warm, and you felt his arm tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. His forehead leaned down to rest against yours, breaths mingling in the small space between you. Instinctively, you took a deep breath, as if suddenly relaxed.

“Liar,” he whispered, his nose brushing against yours in the softest of touches.

No words of protest or argument came to mind, as you let your eyes drift shut, sleepy smile spreading across your lips. “Yeah, I am.”

Nights with Barty coming barging in, although a pain in the morning, were rewarding in a way you couldn’t quite describe. You wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“There we go. Admitting you have a problem is the first step in making progress.”

“You would know.” You peaked an eye open just to confirm that he stuck his tongue out at that comment. Because of course he did.

Silence settled comfortably between you for a minute, Barty’s thumb drawing soothing circles on your waist in the blip of skin showing between your sleep shirt and shorts. His hands on your skin was not a new sensation, you were aware you were touchier than most best friends – Regulus and Evan seemingly never stopped reminding you – but it just felt right. Being near Barty felt right, even when he constantly tossed and turned, limbs all over the place as it was apparently humanly impossible for the boy to sit still. Whether it is an arm around your shoulder, your head on his chest or fingers tracing one another, physical contact with him soothed your soul.

You felt safe.

“Do you feel better?” you suddenly asked, opening your eyes to find him already looking at you with a soft, surveying gaze.

“What?”

You almost snorted at his dazed confusion. “You came here because you were bored, couldn’t sleep, needed entertainment. Because I’m fun, remember?”

He laughed in the way he usually does at his own jokes. “Oh yeah, right.”

“So, do you feel better? Or should we take a run around the dungeons to get your adrenaline going?”

You could almost see his ears peak up, like when you say the word treat around a dog – but that almost lazy smile around his lips never left. “Don’t tease me with a good time, Treasure – or do, I’d never say no to a good time with you.” You rolled your eyes at that. “But no, I’m good. I’ve got all I need right here.”

“Which is?” you asked quizzically, expecting banter.

The earnest look in his eyes suggested otherwise. “You.”

Your heart clenched, your lip almost quivering with emotion before you decided to get it together. “Cheesy.”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “But true.”

“You’re entertained by me mocking you a little bit and then kind of half-sleeping in your arms?”

“Yeah.” He repeated. He looked at you with a look that said are you stupid, what is there not to get. You couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Okay, then. Whatever makes you happy.”

“Glad to have your approval, ma’am.”

You raised a brow at him. “Ma’am? You should start calling me that more often.”

“Instead of Treasure?”

“You can mix and match.”

“Noted, ma’am.” His gaze was teasing, as was his squeeze to your hips.

You stared at him as you tried to figure him out, figure the two of you out. How come he settles this peace in your body, even when he represents everything but? How come you understand him so well and seemingly not at all, all at the same time? Why does he seek you out when he doesn’t feel good, why did he even seek you out when you first met? Why–

Barty takes your bottom lip in between his two fingers and drag it out from between your teeth.

“Stop biting yourself; it’s not nice.” His tone was teasing, but his eyes were trained on you as if studying. “What’s going on in your head?”

You hummed in confusion, looking at him to explain himself, but he just get staring at you, expecting an answer. You sighed.

“Just wondering,” you said, half-trailing off. “I don’t know. Why do you always come to me, Barty?”

“As opposed to what? Cuddling up to Black? He’d kill me without a second thought.”

You laughed a little at the imagery, knowing all too well that Regulus keeps his wand under his pillow and has no qualms about hexing intruders with it. You’d been on the receiving end once by accident, when Barty dragged you all the way to his dorm with him when he forgot his books before heading to the library with you on the one day a week Regulus “sleeps in”, meaning gets up at 9 instead of 7.

“Yeah, no, please don’t do that. I’d like you to keep all your limbs.” He gave you a look that screamed exactly. “I mean, why am I a source of comfort for you? I don’t exactly give you an easy time.”

“I think you need to reevaluate how hard you are on me – because you aren’t, you’re barely any bark and definitely no bite,” Barty started and you rolled your eyes playfully at him, to which he chuckled a bit. 

“I can bite.”

“Is that a promise?” He winked at you, earning him yet another swat of the night. “And to answer your question, I don’t know. You’re just you. You see the parts of me everyone run away from, and you have fun with them. That’s all I need really. You’re all I need. I can’t really put it into words in any way that makes sense; it just intrinsically is. I mean, why do you find comfort in me? I feel like that’s more outrageous.” 

“I… I don’t know. I guess you’re right. You’re just Barty.” 

You met his gaze, admiring every colour that speckled his irises, unconscious smile spreading across your lips. Your fingers go up to trace along the edges of his face, as if taking him in. Just Barty.

“Then we feel the same.” Barty confirmed, seemingly pleased by this.

“We feel the same.”

It seemed the closest the two of you would come to an outright confession of love for now. It still settled in your heart as one.

His hand came up to hold yours, pressing it more firmly into his cheek. He turned his head to the side, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to the inside of your palm. Your chest was working overtime to process the emotions and you were desperate to move on, to calm the storm in your heart named Junior.

“You’ll keep me sane, and I’ll be the death of you. Feels like a fair bargain, no?” Barty teased, as if he knew you needed to lighten the atmosphere. 

Your throat still felt tight from emotion, but you laughed nonetheless. 

“A bit unbalanced maybe, but I’ll take it.” You let your hand slip from under his to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Though, I think sanity might be reaching a bit too high. Stable is more like it. Able to partake in society.”

“Ugh, society.” Barty’s reaction to your last sentence was automatic. For the rest, he simply poked you in the side. “But yeah, seems like a good deal. Stable. That’s more than anyone else could manage.” 

You shook your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

At that, you shuffled closer to him, burying your head into the crook of his neck. “And I always will be.”

His hand came up to thread his fingers through your hair, and you could feel his smile as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of your hair. It was so low you couldn’t be sure he actually said it, but you thought you caught a weak thank you.

“Say, Barty,” you whispered into his neck. “Are you entertained by me when I’m asleep as well, or should I be a good friend and stay awake?”

He breathed a laugh into your hair. “I’m surprised you’re actually still awake and talking to me. Go to sleep, darling.”

“You’ll be good?”

“In what capacity of the term?”

From this position, you could barely give him a light swat on the shoulder. He buried his face closer in your head as he sighed.

“No, I’ll be fine. I really just… I just needed to be with you. And now I am. So you can go to sleep with a good conscience.”

You squeezed him a bit tighter at that, one hand slipping up under his shirt to trace patterns along his back, fingertips dragging over scars and moles alike. He sighed into you at your touch.

“Goodnight, Barty. Wake me up if that head of yours gets too loud.” You pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone through his shirt.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered into the night.

When your roommates woke up in the morning, none of them were surprised to see a Barty-shaped shadow through the curtains of your bed.