#And... Accidentally got the True ending instead

[lunescore]

⋆˙ 𝑭𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑯𝒐𝒕 𝑩𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚—

⋮ ⌗ ┆fingering in a bathroom stall, bully!SEVIKA, mentions of masturbating, daddy kink !

She was mean to you and you only, and you hated that she looked so hot as she made fun of you.

Sevika.

The fucking bully of the school. A hot one at that.

It's as if the loosely tied back hair didn't do much, she just had to have the prettiest set of grey eyes that glinted with sadism whenever she tripped you on purpose. Or the way your nose dripped with a faint trace of blood whenever she "accidentally" bumped you into the locker and a smirk curled onto her dark, plump lips. She'd coo a sorry so condescendingly, it was hard to say if any of it was ever genuine. But your infatuation with her was something you'd always keep under the wraps. If she ever got to know that you liked her that way... Oh boy.

That's the end of your life.

"Look at her nerding the fuck out." Sevika placed her legs atop the desk, taking advantage of the mostly empty classroom, "You'd think she's a real genius." Her friends snickered.

It stung. In the best way ever.

Sevika always made fun of you this way but you rarely ever bit back. You enjoyed it. Secretly. A part of you liked the way she belittled you. At first, it hurt. And now, it just dampens your panties.

You had spend hours rutting into the arm of your couch and thinking of it being Sevika's thick thigh. Oh, what you'd do to just be able to hump her leg... Your fingers had dipped inside your wetness and rubbed your sensitive nerves until you squirted all over the sheets and yourself. You would stare at the ceiling and wonder why you feel like this towards your bully. "Oh, my goodness, Sevika..." You gasped and ground down against your pillow, lips apart as your breath came out in small huffs. You were close. So close.

You fucked yourself silly almost every day of the week thanks to Sevika's torment.

Today was especially worse though. Sevika had made the first few periods living hell and all you could do was shift your thighs a bit closer to one another in desperate need for friction. You excused yourself to the bathroom to take care of the mess in your panties but the moment you opened the bathroom door, you felt Sevika shove you inside. You yelped.

"Hey!" You turned around to face her quickly.

"Shhh, princess. Jus' me." It was Sevika.

Sevika slipped into a stall with you, her shoulders relaxed for someone who was standing inches away from another girl in the same bathroom cubicle. She exhaled deeply before she crossed her muscular arms.

"What the fuck do you want?"

You spat venomously. Sevika sighed before her hand grabbed your jaw and she pulled you in for a silent, sudden kiss. You were shocked and you didn't kiss her back— instead you pushed her away by the chest.

"What the fuck, Sevika?"

Sevika stared at you for a while, before blinking away her confusion and it turned to annoyance. She huffed a sigh. "How dense do you gotta be?" She straightened up and placed her hands on her hips. "Why do you think it's always you who gets slammed into the fuckin' locker? Who gets their ass tripped everyday in the fuckin' hall and gets my special attention?" Ego dripped from everything that she said but she wasn't wrong. You'd seen the pattern but always told yourself it's too good to be true.

"I'm not dense. I'm just careful." You replied and looked away.

"But you want me."

Sevika's hands circled around your waist and she pulled you closed again, your head barely came to her chin level. She smirked a little as she tilted your head up to meet her eyes using one hand.

"I see it in your eyes." She whispered. "The rage, the anger. You're so hot, baby cakes."

You stared at her with rounded eyes, your cheeks flushed and you struggled to make sense of anything at all. "Sevika..."

"Tell me," Sevika pulled you closer if possible. "Tell me I'm not the only one who thinks of you in bed..."

Your knees went weak. What?

"Sevika," you murmured and then gave in. "You're not alone in that..."

Her back slammed against the cubicle door subtly as you flung into her arms to kiss her. The kiss was amateur but Sevika grinned and grabbed your chin, regaining composure and claiming her dominance back. Her hands eagerly explored your body, tongue entering your mouth as her fingers fumbled with the buttons of your shirt. She slipped them off and groped your tits over your bra.

She parted, not completely, just enough to whisper against your lips. "Strip for me."

You moved back, grabbing the waistband of your skirt and panties to strip all the way in one go but Sevika held your wrist.

"Uh-huh, slowly."

You felt blood rush to your cheeks but you complied and slowly started taking your clothes off one by one. First the shirt that Sevika had already unbuttoned, followed by the lace bra and matching panties and then the pleated skirt. You only had your shoes on. Pussy dripping. Hair in a low ponytail. No one had ever seen you like this.

"Oh dolly, you're beautiful."

Sevika drew in a breath before she pulled you closer by a firm grip on your hips. Her hands were strong, muscles bulging against the sleeves of her shirt. Your hands held onto her shirt tightly, feeling the way her hand cupped your pussy.

"This all for me?" She teased, a single digit rubbing your entrance and thumb searching for your clit.

"Yes," you breathed. "All for you, daddy." "You call me that when you touch yourself?" Sevika asked, voice an octave lower than before. Two of her fingers dipped inside, rubbing against your inner walls before sinking inside all the way. You gasped a little, faint waves of pleasure working their way up your shivering frame. You held onto her and begged for more.

"Daddy, m-more."

You were unashamedly getting fingered by your bully and you wouldn't have it any other way. Your cunt fluttered around her intruding digits, mouth falling agape.

"Moan for me, baby, show me how filthy you are." Sevika encouraged and moved her fingers in scissoring motions inside your pussy. Your head tilted back and eyes closed as you savoured the feeling.

"Daddy, you feel amazing..."

Sevika's fingers felt nothing like yours. They were long and thick, the calloused texture of the skin rubbing against your sensitive inner walls making your mind melt into a mush. Your eyes teared with pleasure and your teeth quickly found her neck. Sevika chuckled, finding your reaction cute. You might've not been the first one she fucked, but you definitely were the cutest.

"Sevika..." You mewled in her ear.

The next laugh rumbled deep from her chest and she asked you in a honeyed voice:

"Are we close?"

Your tummy did backflips and your cheeks flushed redder. You nodded meekly and hung your head as you felt the orgasm twisting in your lower abdomen— over and over and over. Until it snapped. Your hair was dampened with sweat and clung to your sweat-glazed temples. You didn't care how you looked. All you cared about was the fact that your super hot bully's big fingers were knuckles deep into your pussy.

"Come."

They curled inside you.

Your body complied before your brain could register it: all control slipping right in front of your eyes as your juices dripped down her wrist and on the bathroom floor. You trembled.

"Was that your first time having sex on the campus?"

"Was that not your first time?"

Sevika only smirked and pulled her fingers up, putting them conveniently in your mouth, making you taste yourself.

Sweet.

[buttercupshands]

Had another one of "YOU HAVE TO DRAW NOW" moments

I actually did the scene above on my second try of the battle, lv 90 doesn't exactly make it easy to lose

Also I think it's time to show those sketches too

The Siffrin practice once more, but this time a bit earlier

Also first try on figuring Loop's full body ref too

Also this little thing, not as polished as digital would've been

Imagine my reaction when I accidentally gave Loop a flower after trying already and they accepted it. I adored that 'yeah we won't speak of this, but I accept your stupid flower' scene more than anything and it was pure text after little scene

[fireinmoonshot]

darling | robert reynolds x reader,

THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR MARVEL'S THUNDERBOLTS*.

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x Reader Summary: You always call Bob darling in private... until you accidentally slip up and use the nickname in front of the rest of the Thunderbolts. Warnings: Mentions of food/drink, reader is mentioned to not be mentally ready for a relationship and has a bit of a moment at the end struggling with their thoughts/struggling mentally in general. Word Count: 1.3k A/N: Thank you all so much for the amazing response on my first Bob fic 🥹 For my second one, this was actually the first idea I had for Bob but it took a bit of workshopping to get right. I ended up being really happy with it. I love writing the Thunderbolts team dynamic. I also put a little easter egg in there for anyone that's read all my other Joaquín fics since February this year. I hope you all enjoy! 💗

Bob had been called many different things in his life. There had been a series of insults from his family and people he’d hurt during his time as an addict. Walker always called him Bobby, which he hated. Valentina called him by his full name, Robert. He had other names like Sentry and Void when he was using his powers. But none of those could ever come close to his favourite from you.

Every time he hears the word darling come from your mouth, directed at him, he thinks it might be the closest he’s ever come to true happiness. He wishes every time that he could bottle that feeling up and keep it for when the days are especially tough.

“Darling, can you pass me that book?”

“Darling, how are you doing after that mission?”

“Darling, do you need me to do anything for you?”

The only bad thing is the fact that you aren’t his. It’s a mutual decision, though, so he can’t be mad. You’ve been in mutual like for a while now. But both of you have known that entering into something serious when neither of you are mentally ready for something like that would just be foolish and end up with one or both of you being hurt. Your friendship always mattered more than the possibility of your futures together.

But the nickname still stuck and Bob was glad for that.

He never cared that it was just in private. In fact, he rather enjoyed the fact that it was just for the two of you. That, whenever he was alone with you, it was almost a guarantee that he was going to hear your voice speak that gorgeous word.

He cared for the rest of the team so deeply, but the moments when it was just you and him were his favourites. When you’d be laying together on the couch, both of you reading the same book and having to wait till you’d both finished the page before turning to the next one. When you’d be in the kitchen together, Bob washing the dishes as you plated up some kind of masterpiece for dinner. The quiet times, when everyone else was asleep and you and Bob would stay up trading memories like they were the worlds greatest secrets. 

The level of comfort he got in your presence surprised him, but he accepted it quickly.

It’s why, when you enter the room, he knows that you’re there. He relaxes almost instantly, just from sensing you getting closer. You reach out to rest a hand on his shoulder before you stop yourself, resting it on the top of the chair that he’s sitting on instead. 

There’s still a little hesitation when it comes to touch between the two of you. Both because neither of you want to cross the invisible line you’ve both drawn, but because of Bob’s powers too. He still isn’t fully in control.

“Morning, darling,” the word slips out before you can stop yourself. It’s so normal these days to refer to Bob like this, but always in private. Never in the dining room of the Watch Tower where every other member of the team is having breakfast.

Bob is none the wiser to your blunder. He gets that same starry look in his eyes as he always does when he looks up at you, standing behind him. He wants to reach out, wrap an arm around your waist and tug you onto his lap, though he wouldn’t have the confidence to do such a thing even if his powers weren’t an issue.

He always melts a little when he hears you call him darling. 

Across the room, you hear a groan.

“Oh, hell no,” Walker says, dropping the spoon back into his bowl of cereal. “You two are not doing that. Whatever is happening here, I don’t care, but we are not listening to you two call each other darling. Especially over breakfast.”

“What’s so wrong with a bit of young love?” Alexei exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air as he looks at Walker across the table. “This is good! Love heals the soul, there is nothing wrong with love!”

You frown. “Okay, who said anything about love?”

Alexei and Walker ignore you and continue to bicker.

You catch Yelena’s eye from across the room where she’s sat by the window, but she just shrugs her shoulders and goes back to staring out at the skyline.

“I would’ve thought you’d be all right with seeing affection, Walker,” Ava says, entering the room behind you. She’d obviously overheard the noise from the hallway. “You are married, even if you’re not together right now. Are you telling us you never called your wife something like that?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t make everyone else listen to me!”

Bucky, who has been watching everything the whole time from the corner of the room where he’s sitting, coffee in hand, huffs out a laugh. “You guys think this is bad? You should be glad you’ve never spent time around Joaquin Torres when he’s away from his girl.” He shakes his head and takes a sip of his coffee, not bothering to explain any further about the new Falcon. 

You take advantage of the moment of silence that Bucky has caused to attempt to fix the situation. “Okay, no more talking about love or who is and isn’t allowed to call each other nicknames. Can we just drop it? It was a slip of the tongue!”

“Only if you explain why you said it,” Walker says.

“No,” you reply, pulling out the chair next to Bob’s and sitting down in it. It’s all you offer in way of an answer to Walker and he seems to surprisingly give up on fighting you on it. 

You glance over to see that Bob is still looking at you, his eyes glistening and a small smile on his lips. The sight of it makes you smile as well. “I am never calling you that in front of the others again… even if it was just a slip of the tongue, that was mortifying.” 

Bob smiles again and nudges a drink that’s sitting in front of him over towards you – he’s prepared your favourite and had it waiting for when you arrived. You try to ignore the feeling that rises in your stomach at the small act of kindness. 

“But when it’s just us?” He inquires.

“You know it’s different then.” 

You pick up the drink and take a sip of it before leaning back in your chair. Walker and Alexei have started bickering over something else. Yelena is still looking out the window, Bucky is in the corner with his coffee and Ava is exiting the kitchen with a drink of her own. It’s a fairly mundane kind of morning for a group of people meant to be the ‘New Avengers.’

There’s a sudden feeling that rises in your chest at the thought of your new status as an Avenger. It’s uncomfortable, unwelcome. You still don’t know how you feel about it, even many months later. It should be a good thing, but then why does it fill you with dread?

Bob can see the change in your expression and he’s quick to act. He reaches over and taps the table in front of you to get your attention. You pull your eyes away from the window, where you’d been staring, and meet his eyes instead. They instantly help to calm you.

“Quiet time?” Bob asks, nodding towards the door that leads into the hallway.

It’s like a code word between the two of you. When one of you needs to get away from the others or you start to get a little too wrapped up in your head. Two words that put you instantly at ease. 

You nod and Bob wastes no time in standing up from the table. You follow him, leaving your drink in the dining room and walking out of the room with him, ignoring Walker as he calls out, asking where you’re both running off to. 

“Thank you, darling,” you mutter, once you’re just outside the room.

Bob turns to you with a small smile on his lips. “Always.”

[skaiwrites]

when i think about what it means to be queer, i think about resting my head on my best friend's lap in the high school cafeteria when i was unbearably sick but had to come to school anyways because it was finals week, and i remember that a few weeks earlier he told me he might be bisexual because he thought me and Brendan Urie were really hot, and i remembering thinking this guy thinks i'm hot and here i am pale and sweaty, head in his lap in front of the whole school

when i think about being queer, i think about the time i had to present at the school science fair, and i started hyperventilating in my room looking at myself in the mirror wearing men's dress clothes; i think about my boyfriend at the time texting the head of the school's queer spectrum alliance club about it, and how 10 minutes later i had 12 different outfits from 12 different students to choose from to wear instead, no questions asked

when i think about being queer i think about getting so caught up in a make-out session in the woods with a friend that we lost track of time and i ended up being 10 minutes late to physics the day before our midterm and had to ask to borrow a pencil and paper to take notes. i got a 93 on that midterm btw

when i think about being queer i think about how i didn't want to watch a movie alone, and one 16 hour date and 5 years later, i'm engaged to one of the most incredible men i've ever met

when i think about being queer, i think about how in April of 2020, after being kicked out of my college dorms due to covid, i told my friend, a nonbinary lesbian married to a transgender man, that i couldn't handle getting misgendered at home anymore, in less than an hour i was in their car, on my way to the house they were living at, where they said i could stay as long as i needed

when i think about being queer, i think about how when that ended up not being true, when the owner of that house kicked me out, i texted my now and also then ex boyfriend, and again, in less than an hour, i was in a car, on my way to his house where i could stay as long as i needed.

when i think about being queer, i think about a few months later, sitting at his kitchen table, him calling me a motherfucker because i accidentally tugged too hard emptying his drains from top surgery. sorry about that, btw

when i think about being queer, i think about trying to give my fiance his first T shot and it turning into a multi day ordeal because the pharmacy gave him the wrong needles, but ultimately my sister in law was able to do it for him. i think about how for the past year i've driven him to Park West pharmacy, owned and operated by trans people, and they've given him his shot because he doesn't like doing it himself.

when i think about being queer, i think about the road trip i took a few years ago to visit my friends, and even though we're mostly all "queer content creators" to the outside world, we didn't end up creating any content at all; we hung out, i slept on their couches, they bought me food, we played games, and we were happy

[mirroredmoons]

it has been said before but i feel the need to state again that the finale of supernatural is not only the most insane case of accidentally making a soul crushing psychological horror while trying to make a satisfying conclusion but the only case of that happening ever (at least to my knowledge.) i’ve seen bad tv endings, but never a tv ending that was trying to be comforting instead telling me that all of my worst nightmares are true and that me and the ones i hold close will never ever love openly without fear. again, so many before me have made this point but god. they killed him on rebar. he never got to be free

[onlyheluvsme]

˗ˏˋwritten i love you's´ˎ˗

how ellie says i love you for the first time — mdni, lowercase intended, suggestive, fluff, elliexfem!reader *ೃ༄ hi !! this is literally my first ever fic pls b kind !!

after spending the day on patrol, you and ellie met jesse and dina at the tipsy bison for drinks. It only took ellie two beers before her hands were all over you, standing behind your bar stool with her head in your neck and both hands rubbing your thighs.

"mmm.. can we go home?" she mumbled in your ear as you attempted to keep up with dina and jesse's conversation.

"babe we just got here" you giggled and turn your head forcing her to look at you. when all you received is an adorable pout in response you let out a giggle and let jesse and dina know they would have to see you guys tomorrow night.

"you two are fucking bunnies, get out of the damn honeymoon phase already" jesse laughed behind his beer mug.

"who said were doing that!" you huffed as ellie puts her coat on then yours zipping it to your nose.

"oh were doing that" ellie says over her shoulder as she pushes you two out the door.

you flopped down onto the bed next to ellie and turned your head to find her wiping her face of your cum with the back of her hand as she let out a huff of air. it had been hours since the two of you left the tipsy bison; hours spent on her face.

you both had a routine after sex, she would pull you into her chest or sometimes completely on top of her and you would guess the letters or words she would write on your bare back.

it had only been five months since she asked you to be her girlfriend and neither of you had gained the courage to say those three words yet. you both felt them, and obviously so, ellie spent every waking moment thinking about you. has she eaten? is she wearing her coat? jesse better be watching her on that damn horse.

"c'mere" ellie said and pulled you on top of her chest. you wrapped your arms around her sides and dig your head into her neck, kissing the warm spot below her ear, legs tangling. her hands immediately went to drawing shapes and figures on your back.

you closed your eyes, trying to make out the words. first they're simple figure eights, then loops until she accidentally tickles your side. after a few moments of giggles she let out a deep sigh, her mind going and starts again on your back. first she writes random words and you spell each letter with your lips into her neck as she writes them, she either corrects you or tells you to try again till you get it right.

after a pause with her hand a few inches above your back, she settles into her decision and begins the first letter on your back.

i

when you correctly repeat it back to her she corrects you continuing. you freeze when you feel the next few letters she draws shakily on your back.

l o v e

you don't whisper the confirmation in her ear but instead let her continue.

y o u

"i love you more" you whisper but barely get out before ellie is flipping the both of you over with both hands on your face. giggles erupted out of you as she began kissing every inch of your face.

"el!" you laugh

"i love you, i love you, fuck i love you" she said between kisses. her hands roaming from your hair, to your face, down your body. she had been waiting to tell you these words for so long now and it felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"and no you don't love me more" she said softly biting your ear.

"want me to prove it?" you brushed your lips softly back and forth against hers. ellie quickly bit onto your bottom lip using her knee to separate and untangle your legs.

"you can't prove it because it's not true" she spoke into your lips, her hands traveling down your stomach.

"watch" you giggle quickly flipping the two of you over and lower yourself down to the end of the bed.

[ellie masterlist]

[hxney-lemcn]

Prince and the Frog — Housewardens x gn! reader

summary: you find yourself cursed and you go to your prince to lift it.

tw: none that I can think of.

a/n: I saw something about the princess and the frog and got inspo. This is so fun, goofy, and lovely, I hope y'all enjoy <3

wc: 1.9k (~300 each character)

Master List

You weren’t sure what you’ve done to deserve this, but even you felt it wasn’t enough. I mean a frog? Really? And the cure was a true love's kiss? Seriously? Can it get any more cliche? You might as well search for a princess and turn her into a frog as well and then set off into a journey of personal growth…you suppose a prince will have to do. You went to the first person you thought could help, time to see if they really would still love you if you were a worm, err…frog.

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

Okay, so maybe Riddle wasn’t technically a prince, but a queen is a step above that, no? You were a little scared of his reaction, but you couldn’t stay a frog forever. Not to mention that someone else had cursed you, it’s not like you turned yourself into a frog. So when you managed to find him he freaked out, mouth agape as you explained your situation. Thank the sevens you could still talk. Riddle’s face soured, lips twisted into a scowl. At first you thought he was going to find a way to collar you in your current slippery state, but he ended up ranting about the person who cursed you, asking for any details that you could provide. The thought of kissing you to break the curse hadn’t even crossed his mind, instead skipping straight to punishing the fool who’d curse the Queen’s rose and making them reverse it. It was then that you learned just how quickly Riddle could sniff someone out if he wanted to, because the effects had been reversed by the end of the same day. (If that doesn’t show you how much he loves you then I don’t know what can).

❥ Leona Kingscholar

…are you sure about this? I mean…yeah he’s a prince and all but he might just toss you mistaking you for a random frog who dared to encroach on his space. The type to argue he wouldn’t have to love you if you were a worm cause how ridiculous is that? Well…not so ridiculous now, huh? Thankfully, you had found Ruggie first, explaining your situation and asking for him to bring you to Leona. Not so thankfully, Ruggie found the entire thing hilarious and had to take a moment to calm himself down. He kept snickering to himself the entire way to Leona, making you want to die, or just stay a frog and live a happy life in a nice little pond and start a little froggy family. When Ruggie managed to tell Leona what was going on in between laughter Leona just stared at you like you were the stupidest motherfucker. Hey! It wasn’t like you were asking to be cursed! Has an internal conflict on what to do. On one hand he wants to prove he’s your true love, and kissing you seems to be the quickest way to get this over with…on the other you are a literal frog. Shooing Ruggie away, Leona bemoaningly gave you the quickest peck ever, making a face of disgust as he pulled away. The transformation back took a few seconds, but the look of disgust quickly turned to a smug smirk, feeling proud that you were truly his. 

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

Okay, so again, not an actual prince…but he excelled at potions, so it only made sense…except he’ll probably make you sign your life away. So maybe not a good choice once again. I pray for you because one if not both of the Leech twins are gonna find you first and they’re gonna have a field day. ‘My, you’d look perfect in one of my terrariums’ Jade would note. Floyd would probably accidentally kill you because this entire situation is oh so hilarious and he forgot he’s supposed to be holding you gently. After the two have their fun (Jade plays with you and his terrarium like you're a doll in a dollhouse), they finally bring you to Azul, laughing their asses off in their own ways. Azul stares at you blankly as the two eel brothers leave, trying his hardest to not laugh. His face is red from concealing his humor, looking to the side to collect himself. He’ll offer you the cure, but for a price. Kiss you? He has a reputation to upkeep you know. He can’t be seen kissing frogs, imagine what that’ll do to his image! No, no, just sign the contract, and to sweeten the deal he’ll have the twins deal with the pest who thought it was a good idea to curse his angelfish. If you really persist, he’ll give in eventually. To be fair, he is also curious to see if you're his true love, but on the other hand he’s terrified if you're not. He doesn’t want to lose you. And to both your delight, you transform back after he gives you a small kiss on your little froggy head…he’s also running laps in his mind at how happy he is.

❥ Kalim Al-Asim

He’s a prince and won’t think twice! He loves you truly, so it has to work! Too bad Jamil stumbled upon you first. Adamantly tries to hide you from Kalim and he feels his headache growing ten times worse. Why did you stupidly get yourself cursed? He asks like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know why the guy cursed you either! Jamil keeps you tucked in his hoodie until he can find time to bring you to Professor Crewel. You tried to fight him at first as you’d rather stay a frog than get detention for something you had no control over, but Jamil knew how to keep a tight leash on the unruly…it was his job after all. Unfortunately for him, Kalim walked into the kitchens right as you hopped out of his pocket. At first he was confused, and then even more confused, and then ecstatic. You hopped over to him, asking for him to protect you from Jamil (who was giving you a major side eye). Then you explained your predicament, and Jamil butted in about bringing you to Crewel. Innocently, Kalim offered to kiss you. No need to bother Crewel if the cure was so simple! Jamil couldn’t stop him in time, as Kalim kissed you the second he finished the sentence. Even Jamil couldn’t hide his disgust for a second at the action. Thankfully, Kalim was your true love as you had transformed back, and he hugged you gleefully. Unfortunately for Kalim, you refused any of his kisses until he rinsed his mouth (lmao).

❥ Vil Schoenheit

Another queen. Best person to go to. He can whip up any cure just as fast as he can whip up any potion/poison. Rook, saw the whole encounter with the other student, and brought you to Vil without a second thought. He already knew everything about the idiot who cursed you so no need to stick around. Vil’s gaze turned into a disapproving stare as he looked at you. Even though Rook tried to stick up for you, dramatizing the whole event as stating how brave you were to face such a curse head on, Vil only shook his head. He motioned for Rook to follow him, not wanting to pick you up. He loves you, really he does, he just can’t afford to get his clothes dirty or stained. He picks the ingredients effortlessly, starting to brew the cure without a second thought. Both you and Rook seemed to want to get on his nerves as you both prattle on about true love and how he should kiss you. He didn’t expect you to be a cheesy sap (he’s lying), besides, don’t you know how many curses list true love’s kiss as the cure? The meaning is pointless. Besides, he doesn’t need some curse to prove his love for you, hasn’t he shown you how much you mean to him already? Or was he lacking, because he didn’t think you’d doubt him. Either way, you’re drinking the cure, he couldn’t risk that your slimy frog skin might make him break out. But don’t worry, if you really have room to doubt his love, he’ll make sure you can’t within the week.

❥ Idia Shroud

Hahaha. Again, are you sure? He’s always holed up in his room, the only chance you're brought to him is if Ortho finds you (or vice versa). At first Ortho found you adorable, cooing at you as he floated to Idia’s room. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to show both you and Idia just how much you care for the other. How could either of you doubt the other if it's sealed with a true love's kiss? It was a brilliant opportunity! (Orthos a little too into this). He barely let his brother welcome them in before barging in and shoving a frog (you) into Idia’s face. At first Idia screeched, falling out of his gamer chair and scrambling away from the amphibian. Was Ortho pranking him? That’s totally uncool, he wasn’t some normie. But then Ortho happily blabbed about you and the curse and then it clicked…YOU WERE A FROG? Now he’s rolling on the floor laughing at you. You’d smack him if you WEREN’T A FROG. After he’s done laughing it up, he then freezes. Ortho wants him to kiss you? B-but that's gross! Who knows what diseases he’ll get if he kisses you. k. Wait, don't go to someone else! Fine, he’ll do it, but he won’t like it. Inside, he’s absolutely terrified. His mind is running a mile a minute. He doesn’t think you’ll actually turn back, someone like him doesn’t deserve true love…so imagine the face he makes when you do. Face a bright red, his hair a bright pink. Oh no, he feels faint. Give him a peck on the lips to finish him off.

❥ Malleus Draconia

Uh oh. Queue the thunder and lightning. Whoever cursed you is the stupidest motherfucker. Malleus is the one to stumble upon you this time, to the disdain of his family. Lilia on one hand wanted to laugh about the situation, on the other, he knew he’d have to protect the stupid human from being smite for cursing Malleus’ love. Silver and Sebek are sweating as Malleus holds you gently in his hands. If he thought you were gentle as a human, he’s being ten times more careful with you in your froggy state. On the outside, he’s silent and brooding, on the inside he’s lamenting on finding you an enclosure where you can be happiest. What type of tank, soil, plants, water…someone please tell him this is reversible. Lilia chimes in before the rain outside can get worse, mentioning true love's kiss is able to reverse the effects. Malleus’ green slitted eyes never move from your tiny form, he finds you absolutely breathtaking even as a frog (this man is down so bad), but he’s nothing but relieved when he hears the news. Human lifespans are already small as is, he would’ve been completely gut wrenching if that time was cut even shorter. Another one who doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. This man would love you if you were a worm. He strokes your moist skin gently as he leaves a small kiss to your adorable head. His entire being, soul, mind and body all belong to you, and if that isn’t true love then I don’t know what is. His eyes shine brightly as you transform back, holding you gently as he promises to protect you from any miscreant that dares even look at you wrong…yeah so the guy who cursed you is still fucked and now you have a protective dragon at your heel 24/7.

[cookies-after-dark]

hopefully i’m not yapping too much because this is my second ask in the same day but the matters are urgent (i got inspired by your teacher!sage of truth x student!reader post)… now i must step off of my black sapphire soapbox to yap about the blue man himself

imagine what you think being an unrequited teacher crush towards sage of truth not being as nonmutual as you thought. how could you help yourself when you spent so much time out of your day being taught by someone so handsome? plus, it’s not like he would notice; all you did was just steal some small glances when was lecturing the class or explaining a concept to someone else. you would get slightly flustered whenever his attention was on you, and your breath would hitch if he leaned in closer to the point you could feel his breath caressing your neck, but that was the most it got. and you were content with that. you wouldn’t risk damaging your terms with him by overtly flirting, no matter how much your body ached for him during a few sleepless nights.

one day in class, you were so captivated by him that you completely forgot about the test that day. you silently begged for some stroke of luck, but it never came, and your heart sunk at the disappointment on his face as he passed back your grade. on the top of the paper of course featured your subpar grade, but also a note from him: ‘come by my office after class today.’ ah, of course; he probably thought you just couldn’t understand the material, even though the true reason was far from that.

so you did as he requested, but cue your surprise as instead of seeing his disappointed face again, his expression held amusement and some other type of emotion you couldn’t put your finger on. the second chair was usually right across from him on the other side of his desk, but now it was right beside him, almost too close. it must’ve just been like that from some other meeting and he forgot to put it back. still, he gestured at it expectantly, and you took your seat, muttering an apology as your leg accidentally brushed against his.

throughout the entire tutoring session, he seemed to be less coherent than usual. not that you were doubting his knowledge or anything, but he was just going through the problems without elaborating or going off on analogy-filled tangents like his normal style. not only that, but his hand always seemed to find yours, grazing your unusually warm skin for a few seconds too long to be considered an accident. you knew you could just mention it and he would stop, but you never did. …you didn’t want to.

the end of the session arrived unsurprisingly quickly with the way he was speeding through the material. did he have somewhere he needed to be? hopefully you weren’t intruding on his time. however, when you began to stand up, you found that his arm was preventing you. he turned to you, gaze meeting yours for the first time since the beginning of all of this. his expression read, ‘what’s got you in a hurry?’

a few seconds of awkward silence passed by before he finally spoke. “is there anything else you’d like to let me know about?” he asked, sounding less like a question and more like a prompt with only one right answer. you shook your head and tried to stand up again, only to be pushed down back into the chair with more force this time.

“there’s no use lying to me. why do you try so hard to hide yourself?” he softly chided. the weight of it hit you like a thousand textbooks. he knew. he always did. he knew about your…

“gave up already?” he teased, as if you weren’t about to die from embarrassment right where you sat. “i’m not going to… punish you for your little secret. actually, i wanted to help make your fantasies a reality.”

…what?

before you could even respond, your thoughts might as well have been about trying to fit a square peg into a round hole, as you were immediately rendered speechless when you felt his hand quite intentionally circle the waistband of your uniform pants. “it’s alright,” he reassured. “there’s no need to be embarrassed. this all part of the learning process. now, should we stop here or keep going?”

a pause. he was waiting for you to answer. he knew that you wanted this, and yet he still wanted to hear it leave your lips. “yes, sir… keep going.”

then, he smiled. “that’s what i like to hear.” his hand then dipped inside and continued its venture south at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“and i must admit,” he murmured, his voice lower than you’ve ever heard it and heavy with desire, “i’ve had my own fantasies about you, too.”

another pause. his hand was so close to the place you needed it most, and the impatient part of you was growing restless.

“about bending you over my desk and fucking you until you scream... until you forget your own name and only remember mine.”

his touch was teasing your inner thigh now. your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. you didn’t know when you started to become wet, but you were sure you had drenched both of your layers. all you could think of, all you could care about was him.

“now, answer this: are you ready for your lesson to begin?”

—🎭

I'm saving this ask in like 8 different places and I'm like, red in the face or whatever. Whatever. Whateverp (defaces public property)

[flippinpancakes64]

Could you write the Cullen's accidentally hurting their SO and how they would react?? (I alr know Jasper's is about to be so angsty lol)

The Cullens accidentally hurting their S/O

I've literally been rubbing my hands together like an evil villain waiting to do this request. I saw it in my inbox and had to hold myself back lol. And yes, I cannot resist the temptation to make Jasper suffer, so be prepared

Edit I got so carried away. If I had a word count on these it might be like 10k lol sorry not sorry

And thank you for this request! This was so much fun to write lol I hope you enjoy it!

Also quick note I might have channeled a bit too much inspiration from Saw or something cause I ended up getting a bit too into my descriptions of the injuries so

TW for graphic depictions of violence

Edward:

You really wanted to go to this concert

Edward knew that, so as a birthday gift he bought you two tickets

One for you and one for him of course

He drove you to the stadium, studying the songs he was going to be hearing later that night

He bought everything that you looked at

You basically had your own merch table

The night was going great

You both found your seats, you were happily eating some overpriced stadium food, and the show was about to start

When a guy stood directly in front of you

The bad part about floor seats is that there aren't seats

The guy was easily 6'6, towering above you even if you are taller

Reading your thoughts, Edward tapped the guy on the shoulder, asking him if he would kindly move or crouch or something

He just looked, rolled his eyes, and stared forward again

"Dude, my partner can't see the show. Please just move a little"

"Don't care. Not my problem."

Edward's getting pissed, and the guy can tell

"What, you wanna fucking fight? Square up rich boy."

"No I don't want to fight I just want you to move a little"

"Okay, then maybe your partner here will fight instead"

And the next thing you know, you see the guy's huge fist heading straight for your head

Before it can land, Edward's hand pushes on your chest, sending you back into the people behind you and ending with you flat on the ground

Your back aches from the impact, your neck torqued from where your head whipped, and your cheek stinging from landing on the side of your face

You feel Edward's chill hands on the sides of your face, and faintly you hear him ask something frantically

You groan in pain as you feel him pick you up, and finally succumb to sleep

You wake up in Carlisle's clinic, staring at the white ceiling

A cold hand is wrapped around yours, and when you turn your head, you're greeted with bright gold eyes

No words are exchanged for a moment before you clear your throat

"So... did you at least rock that guy's shit?"

He laughs and kisses you

Alice:

Alice was having a terrible week

She had been getting vision after vision, and none of them were true

Everything from a huge motor accident to what color shoes someone at school was going to wear

It was constant

She was running in circles, going somewhere, seeing a vision, turning around to go somewhere else, seeing a vision, turning again, and on and on

She was currently driving

Or more like swerving

All you needed were some damn glue sticks for a project you needed to do

But every time Alice decided on a new destination, a vision of a horrible catastrophe would enter her mind, and she would change her course

You had enough

"Alice! Enough of this! Just pull over and let me drive!"

"No! I need to know the safest route... ugh! Everywhere is dangerous!"

"Name one vision you've had in the past week that actually came true."

"Well I don't know if they would have come true or not because I didn't go to those places. And look! We are perfectly fine! Everyone is fine!"

"But I don't have all night, Alice! Just choose a fucking store and go there!"

"Fine."

And so she did. She chose the small supermarket right outside of town

She looked nervous as soon as she placed the car in park

But you ignored it and walked in

You walked through the aisles, looking for the one thing you came here for, when you hear Alice gasp behind you

In her mind, she sees you tripping and falling into a display of DVDs, cutting your arm on one of the metal frames holding them in place

And straight in your path is the DVD case

So naturally she tries to grab you

Only she doesn't grab you, she accidentally pushes

You don't fall in her vision, just like how you didn't fall in real life

She was the one who hurt you, pushed you

That was the problem

The reason why there was a horrible disaster everywhere she tried to go was because she was going to cause something one way or another

Only this is worse, because now it involves you

The DVDs scatter, and she hears your cry of pain as the sharp, crooked metal frame pierces the skin of your arm

She is by your side in a moment, scooping you up and not even bothering with the mess you both left behind

On the way home, you are trying to convince her that it's not that bad, but she is beside herself

After Carlisle's inspection, you get a couple of stitches in your right bicep, but other than that you're perfectly fine

And Alice doesn't leave your side

She is constantly fussing

Asking if you're okay, if you need anything, if you're mad at her, if you want to leave her, if you blame her

But after you go to sleep and she watches over your peaceful form, she convinces herself that you're alright

Jasper:

It was spring break and the Cullens decided to go to one of Carlisle's many tropical properties

It was the third day of the trip, everybody went to do their own things

Alice, Esme, and Rosalie went into town to go souvenir shopping

They dragged Emmett along to be their personal bag carrier

Edward and Bella were down at the private beach that came with the property, enjoying the sun and relaxing

That left you, Jasper, and Carlisle

The three of you were at the attached pool on the house

Carlisle was marinating in the hot tub, sunglasses on and a book in his hands

You and Jasper were in the pool doing anything and everything

Diving, jumping, swimming, racing (he always won), and messing with the pool toys

You had just climbed up the stairs to get out of the pool again, intending on showing Jasper your graceful canonball

But he noticed you were walking a bit too fast

He saw you trip, and like slow motion he sprang out of the water to save you

Only he didn't

His arms wrapped around your middle, saving you from a possible twisted ankle or scraped knee or bruised butt

But that didn't stop the back of your head from smacking onto the concrete

White hot pain erupted behind your eyes and knocked you out instantly

Your blood began to seep onto the wet floor beneath you, and he couldn't help himself

Carlisle heard everything and got up immediately

But he didn't get there in time to stop Jasper from wrapping his mouth around your throat and biting down

In a flash Carlisle threw Jasper up and off of you, rocketing him into the water, and scooped you up to run inside

You awoke some hours later, a throbbing in your head and a dull pain in your neck

The beep of a heart monitor was all you heard

Looking around, you were in the room you shared with Jasper, where just the night before you wrapped around his cold body and drifted to sleep

Only he was nowhere to be seen

Carlisle came to check on you, and he told you what happened

"Where is he? Where's Jasper?"

"... He... left."

"What do you mean he left?"

"He almost killed you. He would have killed you if I wasn't there. He feels terrible- no. Terrible isn't strong enough of a word."

It takes Emmett and Edward tracking him down and dragging him home for you to see him again

And even then he insists on Edward and Emmett holding his arms in case he were to try anything

He looks so broken

Muted red eyes, golden blonde hair shooting in every direction, the same swim trunks he had been wearing that day were covered in dirt and blood- presumably yours

And his face

He looked on the verge of tears, he would have been crying if he could

If the dry heaves coming from deep in his chest were any indication

He flinches when you take his face in your hands, trying to get away, not wanting to hurt you more

But when he kisses you, he remembers why he tries so hard to be good in the first place

Rosalie:

You had been asking Rosalie for WEEKS if she would pleeeeeeease take you hunting with her

And she had been turning you down for weeks

It's a very gross, animalistic process that she, quite frankly, doesn't want you to see

But she loves you

And she is only so strong

So after so many begs, pleads, and puppy dog eyes, she caves

She decides to make it a cute little weekend trip

Taking you to one of Carlisle's properties farther north into the snowy mountain region

You settle in to the spacious cabin and Rosalie makes sure you're all bundled up in luxurious furs and warm scarves before you both venture into the wilderness

She explains what she's doing step-by-step while she sniffs the air, searching for her prey

A wolf because she's part of the "Fuck Jacob" team

She sits you in a clearing and tells you to stay in place while she finds her wolf

You do, finding a snowy log and brushing it off to sit on

She ventures into the forest, eventually finding a suitable wolf and beginning her hunt

Chasing the wolf, being chased by the wolf, until she eventually leads it to your clearing

She knows you'll love the theatrics of seeing her kill it in live action

She chases the beast all the way until it's about to clear the tree line before she pounces

She can imagine herself from your point of view

Bright, shiny skin, flowing hair, posed in midair, and finally coming down gracefully upon her prize

Except she doesn't

The wolf takes a quick turn at the last moment, sending her flying straight into you

There's not much she can do while suspended in flight, and it happens too fast for you to recognize

In an instant her whole body slams into you at full force, knocking both of you onto the powdery ground below

The grunt of pain you let out is excruciating

She rolls off of you quickly, holding onto you, asking if you're okay, if you're hurt

You try to put on a brave face, but when you move your left arm in an attempt to prop yourself up, you find you can't move it

Broken. Completely snapped. And you scream

She paces in Carlisle's home clinic while he puts your cast on, worried out of her mind

But when Carlisle opens the door and she sees you sitting on the table with a goofy grin and a bright red cast, she can't help but relax

"You said red was your favorite color, right?"

And she just kisses you

Emmett:

You'd been dating Emmett for a while now, and had decided it was time for him to meet your family

And what better time and place for a first meeting than your nephew's fourth birthday party?

It was the middle of August, and the sun was hot

The icing was melting off of the cake as it sat on the food table

All of the adults were drinking margaritas and the kids had decided to play with the water balloons to cool off

Your uncle and Emmett were filling up the balloons as all of the kids at the party talked excitedly

You laughed as your nephew came up to you and asked you to be on his team for the fight

Of course you couldn't say no

And of course, to even the playing field, the other team got to have your human tank of a boyfriend

Very even

Emmett just smirked at you as your uncle assumed his place as the referee and commenced the battle

Pink, blue, green, yellow, and red balloons were flying like crazy

Small party hats were knocked off of even smaller heads

The giggles of 20 little kids rang loud in the air as water spurted all over the grassy lawn

And you took your chance to pelt your boyfriend as hard as you could

His light blue shirt was soaked, and his khaki shorts had a huge wet spot on the front

You were doubled over in laughter at the sight of your scary boyfriend covered in little pieces of rubber, with one particularly large piece hanging off of his ear

But he hadn't thrown any at you yet

"Come on, big guy! Don't be a wussy!"

"Oh you asked for it now!"

You saw him grab a little pink water balloon, it looking even smaller in his hand, and he threw it straight at your head

You briefly wonder if he filled his balloon with cement

The next thing you know you're laying in bed, an ice pack perched on your forehead

"Oh my god, you're awake. I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to, you know how I get out of control sometimes. Not that that's an excuse! I'm just trying to explain-"

You cut him off with a finger to his lips

"Shush... .'m tired"

And so he just lets you sleep the rest of the night, his hand in yours the whole time

Esme:

Frankly, she doesn't know why you asked for her help

The Cullens had just moved into their newest house, and everything was set for the "kids" to join the local highschool the next day

You wanted a new look

"New place, new people, new me" you had said

She understood that much

But when you approached her one night with a box of hair bleach and a pleading look on your face, she was lost

Why her? Why not Alice or Rosalie? Or- and hear me out- a professional? They had the money

But you wanted to do it yourself. But not actually yourself For some reason you wanted Esme to do it

And even though she didn't understand, she still agreed

So that's how she found herself closely studying the instructions on the back of the little box telling her what to mix and where

"What's taking so long?"

"Hold on... ugh! This thing doesn't make any sense!"

"It's okay I'm sure it's super simple. I mean they give you all of the stuff. Just mix it all together and slap it on my head!"

Bad idea

She mixes everything together just like you asked, and plops a big lump of it onto the crown of your head

Instantly your hair starts smoking

You scream, asking her to take it off

And she tries, but it's not working

Carlisle to the rescue once more

She is so apologetic

She feels so bad that she hurt you so much

And at least you did get that new look you wanted

Shaved-to-the-skin bald

Carlisle:

He was feeling a bit cooped up

He loves his family, and he loves his life in the Americas, but sometimes he misses traveling and his old friends

So he decided to take you with him to Europe to see some old pals

Not the Volturi obviously

But some other acquaintances he hadn't seen for a while

You were a month into the three-month trip Carlisle had planned

You'd visited Italy, Greece, Spain, France, Britain, and were on your way to Germany

This next friend you were on your way to visit was a man named Friedrich Hans

Carlisle spoke passively about him, nothing positive or negative

He was one of the ones he hadn't been able to contact beforehand about visiting

He wasn't even sure if Friedrich was still alive, or if he even lived in Germany

He wasn't betting on either, but he still figured he would try a visit

The taxi pulled up in front of an unassuming house on a busy street in Berlin, painted a light grey with black paneling around the windows and doors

Carlisle opened your door for you, extending a hand to help you out

He walked with you to the door, rapping his knuckles against the solid wood

Instantly it creaked open and a voice inside whispered "Perfect" before a pale, veiny hand reached out and grabbed your arm

You yelled for it to let you go, begging Carlisle for some help

He grabbed you around the waist with one arm, using the other to try to pry the man's hand from your wrist

The opposing forces splintered on your bones and a sickening crack ran through your arm

Your hand fell limp and Carlisle was finally able to pry you away from the force in the house

"Ah... Carlisle... old friend"

"Old friend? You just tried to kill my S/O!"

"S/O... you always were a weird one Mr. Cullen... sincerest apologies... come in for chat?"

"No thank you, I believe we will be taking our leave now."

And with that he rushed you to the nearest hospital

He didn't have his medical equipment, so he just pretended to not know German so they wouldn't ask questions about how you broke your wrist

He cuts the trip short then and there

He sends letters to all of his friends that he wasn't able to visit, explaining that something urgent came up

He is so apologetic for the weeks afterward

He is convinced it was his fault even though it wasn't

He doesn't relax until your cast is off btw

Vampire! Bella:

Since she's so new to the vampire life, she doesn't know her own limits yet

She has hurt you a lot in the past

All accidents of course

Hugging you too hard, punching you playfully on the shoulder, telling you to catch something and literally lobbing it as hard as she can

She always feels terrible afterwards

But the worst was the time you took her bowling

It was 10 am on a Tuesday and there was no one at the bowling alley

Not even the competitive grandmas and grandpas in their bowling leagues

The only other person in the building was the bored looking cashier who wasn't even trying to hide that he was on his phone behind the counter

You both took your time to pick your balls, trying out all of the ones on the rack to see your best fits

You laced up your ugly shoes, input your names on the scoreboard screen and off you went

It was fun for the first couple of turns

Until the ball return does that stupid thing where it doesn't actually return your ball

It's your turn, and you're standing at the ball return tapping your foot restlessly waiting for it to show up

"You know, you can just use mine"

Bella stands up and grabs the ball she chose

The resin was a beautiful mix of black, purple, and pink with some reflective glitter sprinkled throughout

It's so gorgeous that you don't even check the weight

You hold out your hands to take it and it just drops straight through

And directly onto your foot

You let out a loud scream and try to move, but the ball won't roll off of your foot

Bella starts panicking, asking what she should do, scrambling around until eventually she picks up the ball and throws it onto the ground behind her

Maybe she forgot that the cashier was there, or maybe she didn't care, but she picked you up and started sprinting at full speed back to the Cullen house

She even left the car at the alley smh

On the verge of inconsolable

She is so frustrated that she can't learn to control herself

Doesn't leave your side tho

Note: Just for shits and gigs I timed how long this took me

Started at 12:01 am

Jasper done at 12:21 am

Edward done at 12:40 am

Alice done at 12:56 am

Rosalie done at 1:19 am

Emmett done at 1:33 am

Esme done at 1:44 am

Carlisle done at 2:03 am

Bella done at 2:16 am

Total time 2 hrs 15 mins

[lunaria-maharlika]

Danny accidentally becomes the Ghost king, The president and the BIGGEST threat to Bruce's social status.

Pt 1 Danny becomes the Ghost king

"Fenton's were never allowed to have a "normal" life, we are either extremely successful or extremely unsuccessful, there is no in between. Maybe a spirit cursed us back in the days, but who knows, but one things for sure, all Fenton's will definitely make the news."

-Grandma Fenton from whatever generation

Danny's starting to believe that now. He used to think that it wasn't true, but now? He used to wish to have a normal life, be a good normal son with good grades an be an astronaut one day.

But like they said, a Fenton is either EXTREMELY SUCCESSFUL OR EXTREMELY UNSUCCESSFUL.

He was EXTREMELY UNSUCCESSFUL in that.

Instead of a normal life he turned a half ghost teen superhero. But oh well, the Fenton's were also known for their ability to go with the flow

But how in the world did the flow get him here???

In Danny's defense, he wasn't really expecting this. The only thing in his mind at the moment was keeping his town and his people safe from pariah. He just wanted to get rid of the rotten fruitloop. He was EXTREMELY SUCCESSFUL, so successful in fact that he ended up becoming Ghost king.

The fudge????

But okay, sure, he didn't wanna become king but if he also didn't want to give up the crown for others to take, what if an evil person becomes king and attacks amity again?? Fine, he'll be king, he'll figure it out. Just go with the flow.

Surprisingly, not only did he get the crown, he also got THE MONEY. as in literal gold and silver bars, coins and jewelry. Appearantly, one the kings a long long time ago, before at least two generations before pariah had an obsession with MONEY. So the king made a Permanent Royal Degree (a law that cannot be changed by any future kings) that when someone dies and becomes a ghost, 20% of the MONEY that they've acquired in their entire life. (The money turns into an equivalent of ghost currency in the realms but is still physically in the living. Kind of like how the soul is in the realms but the body is the earth. Also, the only reason money exists in the realms is for convenience and a sense of normalcy, it doesn't really have that much value unless the ghosts brings it to the living) would belong to the ghost king.

Basically, it's ghost taxes that only have to be paid once for the entire afterlife. (Or is it more of an entrance fee???)

But anyways, hes got the MONEY.

He's rich now and he thinks, "I have so much money it's disgusting"

So first things first, getting rid of some of it.

By this point, his parents know he's phantom and have changed their opinions on ghosts, instead of attacking they are now looking at ghost like they're equals and try and help them as an apology for hurting them.

They are also looking for a new project to spend time on. A new purpose

So Danny thought, why not give them the money then? Danny proposed to his mom a project to make things that can benefit both ghosts and humans.

Next thing he knows is that he's appearantly funding, building and making:

A ghost job agency

A human job agency

Ghost proof buildings (ghost can't pass through walls, it won't hurt them, just keep em out.)

Ghost proof clothes (overshadowing proof!)

A practical fashion line for ghost and humans (Bullet proof, blast proof etch. Borderline vigilante clothes that look like a civilians day to day outfit)

Homes for ghost and humans

A ghost obsession help center where they can ask humans to help with their obsession.

A school for both ghost and humans.

Liminal 101 because apparently because of the whole, pariah dark and, living in the ghosts kings haunt situation, everyone is liminal now

An entire line of technology that can be used by both ghosts and humans.

A fight arena where ghost and humans can fight for fun.

And so many other things , he can't remember

HIS NAME IS EVERYWHERE . His parents didn't even bother hiding the fact that their son somehow has enough money to fund these projects, everyone knows him now.

He ends up basically owning most of amity park.

And here he thought he wouldn't be the kind of king that expands their territory.

He was extremely UNSUCCESSFUL in that.

[valeriele3]

𝒮𝑒𝓁𝒻-𝒜𝓌𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝓀𝒶𝒾 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇 𝑅𝒶𝒾𝓁

✎ Sorry for the somewhat rushed ending! ^^;

Messages.

Idle chats.

You were answering them like normal. Sometimes even giggling on the messages

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

You log in, check your messages, answer them if there's one, do daily tasks, and maybe farm, then log out. That was your daily routine in HSR.

However, you begin to notice how much more frequent the chats are. After assigning an assignment, you get a new message. 'Oh well. Free jades," you thought.

Every time you beat an enemy, boss, or do anything in the game, you will notice a new message.

'Maybe it was an update? Or a bug?' You brushed it all off and thought nothing of it.

You would answer all of them wholeheartedly; after all, you also noticed that if the character liked what you said, you'd receive more Stellar Jades.

You'd talk about it with your friends, but they'd respond with "I wish", "Oh shut up~ Don't make me hope", and "Hm? Is your game bugged?? Or is mine bugged? I don't get any of those benefits..So unfair."

You try to check the dev logs to see if there was an update regarding the messaging feature, but whenever you try to look at them, your computer freezes.

'No matter, I can just check using my phone.' No luck; it also freezes.

'Maybe my tablet?' Still the same.

Frustrated, you ask one of your friends to look into it. "There's no update or any fixes on it, Y/N. Maybe you should report it; your game might really be bugged."

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

Deciding to report it, you open up Bug Report, but then your screen freezes again.

It then opens up the messages, and you read the following words:

| Hey

| Please don't do it.

| It took such a long time to break the code, you know.

| Hey

| Are you still there?

| Oh

| Right

The messaging bubble pops up.

| You can type now.

"W-What.." You stare at your screen dumbfounded.

Reaching out to your keyboard, hoping it won't work and choices will pop up, you press a random key, and it works

Startled, you immediately plugged out the cables on your computer, causing it to shut down.

You grab your phone and start messaging one of your friends. Before you could hit send, the screen blackened, and then in the next second, it lit up with a notification.

"Hey, we were in the middle of a conversation."

"Why did you suddenly leave?"

Your hand trembles. 'Shit, how..How did it get to my phone too..'

"I know I like reading self-aware au's but I didn't want it to actually be true!" You scream, throwing your phone across the room.

You can hear it dinging with new message after new message.

You decide to leave your room for a bit to calm down.

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

"Ok..Be calm..I'm probably dreaming, right?"

"There's no way this kind of thing will actually happen in real life."

"I need to think about this rationally. I could try to get my phone and computer fixed..Maybe I accidentally got a bug."

"Oh, my tablet too..It probably has the same bug.."

"Then, uhm, should I tell them about this? No, maybe..Agh! This is so frustrating..!"

After going back and forth, you decided to sell your gadgets instead of trying to repair them. Buying new ones is much cheaper than trying to get them fixed.

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

The first month was alright. You also stopped playing HSR just in case something of the sort would happen again.

However, everything changed when you awoke to your notifications going off like crazy.

【Luka】

| Hey! Y/N, wanna come watch my tournament this week?

【Qingque】

| Y/N

| This is urgent. Come to Exalting Sanctum

| Watch me go against this pro. I'm sure with your attendance I'll easily win.

【Robin】

| Y/N, would you like to come watch my concert?

| Don't worry! I made sure that you'd get the best seat.

【Sunday】

| Y/N. Do me a favor and attend Robin's concert, will you?

| If you don't..

| Well, it'll certainly make her sad. As for me, it's best you don't know.

【Arlan】

| Hello, Y/N

| Would you like to accompany me with walking Peppy?

【Blade】

| Come.

【Bailu】

| Y/N!

| I have made a huge discovery!

| Meet me at Aurum Alley!

【M̵̛̼̘̭͎͓̘̘̽̎̃̊̄͋̈́̑̇i̵̡̨̡͎̖̮͉̺̣͂ͅs̴̰͂̉́̅͒̆̄́̄̋̚͜͠͠͝ͅȟ̵͉̹̖͍͎̱̭̳̰̘̀a̵̧̨͔̣̘̮̻̐̆̌̀͑̊̄̄͌͗̓̌͘̕̚】

| C̷̛͇̬̥̼̲̙̠͓̭̺̱̻̟͖̜̾͑͋͊́̀̕͝ä̷̡̨̨̨̡̤̫͔̼̗̫̪̟̰́̏́̾̄͘͝ͅn̸̡̪̱̻̜̻̺͊̍͒̂͗̀̍͐̔͆̆̎̚̕̕ ̷̛̻̟̀̇͐͋̋̌̂͒́͑̏͝y̴̮͆͒̈͒͑͋͆̒̂̓̕͘̚͝͝o̸̩̫̰̤͌̈͝ͅu̷̻̗͉̥̺͕͉͔̠̯͇̭̖̐͜ ̵͖̲̼̥͑͝ḣ̵̟͓̆͌̄̑̂̈́̓̚͘̕͝͝e̷͖̥̜̅͛̂̒͒̕͜a̶̧̫̹͉͆͑̊͊̊̐̐̂̈̉̾͜͝r̶͎̫͛̑͊͌͐̎ ̴̢̢̛͓͉̮͇̞̬̪͔͓̦̾̓̈́̀͐̀̂̀͒͝ͅm̴̤̙͎̽͋̽̇͛́͑͌̃͑̊e̷̦͚̔́̔̀̒͊͂̔̕̚͝.̵͎͓̪̥͍̍̓͂̾̌̂̌̚̚ͅ.̵̨̟͉͕͈̜͎̻̗͓̯̜̜̩̓̈́̓͊̆̓̑͐̈̐̄̀̕?̵̙̠͚̆͊͊̇͌

【Aventurine】

| Why're you ignoring my calls and texts?

| Is the money not enough for you?

【Pela】

| The Tale of the Winterlands original artbook sold out in 1 second again

| But

| I was fast enough to get you a copy too

| Don't worry. I'm messaging the right person this time

【Natasha】

| Y/N, did your cold get better?

✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲✲꘏ ꘏ ꘏✲

You stare at your phone, frozen. Even as you were sitting there staring at it, the messages continued to flood nonstop.

It

Was

Nonstop

Even if it's on silent mode and DND, you can still hear it dinging.

At one point, the messages started appearing in all the social apps that you use.

Hell, it even started appearing in your smart fridge

You deleted and deactivated everything. Throwing away any and all sorts of electronics that could potentially be used for apps.

But you could still hear it.

Even the sound of the doorbell ringing, the kettle whistling, or your telephone ringing makes you panic. 'What if that's them?' You always think

Every creak, every shuffle, and every little sound makes you paranoid.

What if they cross over to Earth? What will you do? You can't run from them. Even if you do, they'll be able to find you easily.

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 7 - Black N' White Knight

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Dick tells Tim, hand carting through his hair. The two of them are in the kitchen, at the breakfast bar. Tim sitting in front of his laptop with his legs crossed, and Dick tapping one foot agitatedly against the marble floor. While Tim might not be grinning ear to ear, it’s pretty obvious for anyone who knows him that he’s delighted by the tale Dick just regaled to him.

And what a tale it was. He hasn’t seen you in a year and a half, and then when he does, he finds you teary eyed staring at a picture of him shirtless at the gym. Bruce had always told him the way he played with the paparazzi would come to bite him in the ass one day, but he really can’t say he expected… that.

Obviously, it had to be a prank. That’s his first thought. That’s his only thought, really. What other explanation could there be? An accident? Maybe you’d forgotten what his room looked like. It wasn’t like he kept much personal stuff in his Wayne manor room, the only markers his clothes and the letters he kept in his drawer from his parents.

And you were wearing his clothes, of all things. He’d be surprised if you forgot how much of a Superman fanboy he was, seeing as he’d spent many hours ranting to you before the explosion. So, a prank. A show of good will, an olive branch maybe? It was more likely you were just fucking with his head, as you’d done in the past. Never like this, though.

This was just… bizarre.

“I can’t either,” and of course, Tim sounds near estatic saying that. The love of chaos ran true in that one.

Dick had managed to wrangle his life under control a few years back, and despite the universe seeming to try to unravel it at the seams, he was indisposed to let it simply happen. Even if you of all people had changed. No, Dick was getting older, and he was finding his taste for chaos a lot more… limited.

He didn’t want to suffer it’s affects. He was currently suffering it’s affects.

“I knew something was going on when she showed up to the party, but this…” Tim pauses, leaning back in his chair, “It’s gotta be a prank, right?”

It said a lot about their family that this was all the assumption they defaulted to.

“It could be something else. Did you even take her to the hospital after?” Dick offers instead, overthinking as always. This situation seemed to be made for overthinking, though.

Tim hums. “No, we did not.”

Then he turns his stare to Dick, like he’s expecting something from him.

“Seriously?”

“What? You’re the friendly one.”

Dick very much did his best to seem like the friendly one, at least. Tim was well aware it was a complete farce, though. Dick was nice but he could also be a bit… well… a bit of a dick. Another thing he’d been trying to overcome. He was doing better than when he’d been seven, at least.

Dick sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead, “I’d probably just end up accidentally nagging her, and then she’d never speak to me again.”

“That’s not my problem,” Tim shrugs, glancing back down at his laptop and squinting.

“It is, actually. Because if she stopped talking to me you’d probably be the next one till the girls and Duke came home who has to talk to her.”

“She could talk to Jay,” Tim offers, because he’s a shithead. Dick bets he did the same with Bruce, “And besides, I’m busy doing surveillance.”

“You mean stalking.”

“I do it to everybody, stop making such a big deal out of it.”

Dick sighs again.

“Hm, you might want to check your phone,” Tim says, in a way that suggests he has once again tapped the network. Keeping him out of Dick’s private life was like Sisyphus and his boulder. He still wasn't going to give up, and the time Tim and Steph mercilessly bullied him for getting dumped over text had made him all the more so.

‘Dont_try’: hey. can you come pick me up? thx

“Please, tell me you sent that and are just messing with me,” Dick begs, staring down at his phone in mild despair. Chaos. Always fucking chaos. Despite how hard he tried, he could not keep his family out of trouble. God damn it, when he’d gotten this job he’d been the one made for trouble. Where did he go wrong?

“Honestly, sounds like the sort of thing I’d do, but the girl just got bitch slapped so I really think you should respond fast.”

“What?!”

“She’s fine now, run to the bathrooms I think. You know for such an upstate place you’d think they had better camera positioning,” Tim mutters, complaining that he can’t watch every single little movement you make. Dick thinks he should probably worry about this, as it’s a clear sign of another decline for his sanity, but he’s now got this shit to deal with.

“Why, Tim? What is going on? Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Hm?” he’s engrossed by the computer, “Ah, the shitty boyfriend… some soup- ha, how is she such a clutz? Maybe we should get her head checked again- and… an altercation of some kind? I don’t know, I can’t see it properly.”

Dick leans forward in his stool, clasped hands covering his face for a moment.

“Are you going to reply? If you don’t soon, she’ll probably make it a bigger shitshow,” Tim says, nudging his foot against Dick’s. Dick, good big brother that he is, takes a deep breath and steadies himself. Even if this is really not what he wanted for his holiday, he’s dealt with much, much worse.

The press will have forgotten about this within the week. You, however, likely not. He’d promised to help you all those years ago, and even if he had no idea why you were reaching out to him, or if you would even be amicable when you met again, he’d still damn well do it.

He glances back down at his phone.

“What is going on?” Dick repeats to himself, and Tim’s head cocks to the side. There’s that familiar cat that got the cream grin spreading across his younger brother’s face, and it just really isn’t welcome right now.

“Intrigued yet?”

Unfortunately for both him, Tim and especially you, Dick already was.

He’s in his car in five minutes flat, finger tapping against the premium leather wheel. The sound of it is the only thing that manages to keep him sane.

Riding up to the place, Dick realises that no, maybe the press won’t be over this within the week. Considering the amount of paparazzi swarming the place, he doubted you’d be free for at least a few months. To be fair, the mysterious ex-wayne making such a scene was a bit of a big deal. Before you’d been basically invisible, despite your immense wealth and past.

Invisible? Dick thinks he spots at least twenty cameras. And that’s not even mentioning all the phones inside that would’ve gotten up close videos of whatever happened. Their legal team would handle it fine, that which Barbara or Tim couldn’t wipe from the face of the earth. And that was very little, all things considered.

Dick has to push past the calls of his name, ignoring all the intrusive questions volleyed his way like the pro he was. He still makes sure to listen carefully and store away every vital bit of information, as well as remember the logos on the film crew’s van. Eventually he makes his way to the front of the line, and the flustered front of house immediately recognises his face and sweeps him inside. Dick ducks in with a thankful smile, which he admits, falters when he enters the scene.

A scene which you are not in. Your gold digging boyfriend was, though. Of all the things Dick regrets with you, it’s not breaking the horrid relationship the two of you had apart. Or well, the fact that you totally, loudly hated his guts. He was a sensitive guy, y’know!

He sees your terribly boyfriend - George, Dick remembers - raging at some poor servers, and he knows he need to go sweep in and save the pour soul. It’ll be a hard fight, he can already tell.

Before he does so, he sends a quick text to his phone.

Underwear_guy: Where are you?

Don’t_try: I’ll be right out.

Shockingly, that was the truth. You come striding into the restaurant, and immediately all eyes are on you. It makes you stutter-step. Dick can see you visibly stiffen up, before you manage to gather your courage and keep walking. You don’t even pay him a single glance as you walk straight towards your fuming boyfriend.

You try to whisper, keeping your voice quiet and your conversation private. The boyfriend seems uninterested in the idea.

“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he cuts you off.

You glance around, and then say something else. It seems like you’re trying to defuse the situation, but George seems uninterested by the idea. 

“This behaviour is ridiculous. You need to get it together, we’re in public!” he yells, like he isn’t the one causing a scene. He seems to be trying to intimidate you back into silence. But today and well, yesterday too, something is different about you.

Okay, that’s enough of that. Dick’s intervening.

“You cheated on me! You deserve it and everything that’s coming to you!”

Or, uh, maybe you’ve got it covered.

-

George’s shocked face is almost worse than when you literally bit him. Guess he expected you to be a bit more demure after that encounter. He should know better, the other version of you seemed to have been even more spiteful in nature.

Today again, you prove you are a less than stellar person. You’d stopped caring about George as soon as you’d discovered he’d cheated, but you were still angry. Not jealous, but furious. Bubbling up your throat, rage and bile and the urge to attack him once again, even if you just want to go home.

Your teeth grind. Your jaw ticks. And oddly, you realise you have a real taste for George Lancaster’s limbs.

Though your life had changed (literally) in the past few days, you were still the same girl from your first twenty-first. You wanted George Lancaster to suffer. Even more so, now that the evil cunt had hit you right in the face. The hit had stunned you, though. More emotionally than physically, but it had shocked you.

You couldn’t say you were a coward. You’d spent far too many days in your teenage years indulging in self-destructive behaviours to think that. But something about this pathetic man was scaring the shit out of you. You think that made you more pathetic, but you couldn’t quite tell. That’d be victim blaming, right?

You did have a habit of blaming yourself. It was just usually your fault.

…Maybe you shouldn’t have bit him, no matter how much the response was instinctual or his screech was satisfying. This was all too confusing, all too much. You needed to get back to your apartment, lock the doors and barricade them so nobody bothers you. And then maybe hibernate for a week. You needed some time to process all the stupid bullshit you were experiencing. The wayne manor was too much, your horrible white apartment was too much, George fucking Lancaster was too fucking god damn much.

You take a deep breath, and manage to stop yourself from bolting like a deer. Deal with the problem at hand. Deal with it now, deal with it!

“I’m leaving, and we are done. It’s that simple,” you tell George, trying to drill in a message that he seems unable to comprehend. At this point you’d assume he’d be trying to apologise, manipulate back into his good graces, but you think you might’ve completely broke him. Broke the script.

Good. That was damn well good.

“Can we talk about this somewhere else at least?” George replies, eyes flicking to Richard Grayson’s angry gaze. At least you think he’s angry. You can’t quite gather the courage to look directly at him.

Also, there’s the manipulation! You wish you weren’t right this time.

“Sure, but I’m bringing him, and my answer will absolutely not change. You hit me.”

“You bit me!”

Well, yeah, not your best moment. You don’t think you can regret it, though.

“Then I think this relationship is ending on equal terms,” you reply, trying your best to just get him to quit it. It is obviously not working by the way his expression darkens.

“I’ll tell the press everything,” George threatens, which, well, is sort of a shitty threat because I don’t even know what he’s threatening. ‘Everything’? Couldn’t he be a bit more specific?

You shrug. It is the wrong response, you know it is, but you’ve completely ran dry of fucks to give. Couldn’t be much worse than the bullshit happening right now. The press were already very well fed, considering the situation that was today. George makes a small sound of fury.

“We’ll sue,” Richard Grayson, the white knight that you’d daydreamed about, comes to your rescue. Is it odd that it’s kind of flustering? You probably shouldn’t be flustered.

George immediately snaps his gaze to Grayson’s, giving the man a look with a healthy dose of fear. Couldn’t blame the guy. Even if he was the second smallest of the three remaining brothers, he was still well known for being strong. His family often did kick-boxing, and their sister, Cass, often whooped their asses. It was sort of satisfying to watch. Anyway, his physical prowess from fighting to weirdo gymnastic bullshit was evident in his svelte build.

George was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. With just the one threat from the Waynes legal team, he skitters away like the little rat you know him to be. He leaves the restaurant, and he very obviously does not pay or even leave a tip. You suppose you have the cash to make up for it. Then, ignoring the paparazzi, you were technically home free. You glance to the side. Richard Grayson’s beautiful face looks a mix of confuddled, frustrated, and exhausted. He still saved you, though, even after the fool you made of yourself.

White knight, indeed. It almost feels a bit anticlimactic, but it’s the results you wanted. And yet, an ominous feeling befalls you. Somehow, you don’t feel you’ve seen the last of George Lancaster. You just really hope the old you hadn’t committed any crimes. A tabloid? Humiliating, but livable. Prison? Not so much.

Not that the rich stayed in prison in Gotham, or even the rest of the world. It was kind of strange to realise you were sort of above the law now.

You glance at Dick, pulling your uncomfortably wet shirt away from your chest. You’ve sort of been bled dry of any shits you could give at this point, so you decide, very maturely, to make jokes and ignore all your problems. It had gotten you this far.

You’d seen this behaviour before. Many, many times. It was what usually got you fired. But now you didn’t really have to worry about that, so why should you worry about causing a scene and ruining your life a bit more? It wasn’t yours, after all.

“What do you think?” you joke, elbowing Dick. He looks down from glaring at the entrance George just slipped out of, to you. His blue eyes are a damn near shock to the soul. It takes everything in you not to start fidgeting.

“Think of what?” he responds, and despite how hard you try, you can not read his expression.

“I’m trying to make some more news. Don’t think the reporters got enough the other day,” you say, gesturing to the giant stain. It’s still Dick’s shirt. You hadn’t realised till now, but the Beatles was now some sort of green soup. Is it kind of gross of you to acknowledge that at least the soup smelled good?

Probably. You didn’t actually get to eat anything here. It’s also probably a bit weird that you’re thinking about eating at a time like this. Probably.

“I think you’ve done enough, honestly,” he says, glancing at the camera flashes from outside.

He sounds exactly like your mother, it’s almost uncanny. Well, this version of him technically knew her. You’re still not sure how well en-meshed your two families had been before the disaster, but maybe he’d picked up some traits from her.

…That… you’re not sure how to feel about the idea. The old green monster bubbles up at the thought, and you can’t tell if you’re jealous your mum got to meet Dick Grayson, or that Dick Grayson might’ve gotten to know your mum.

“We should leave,” he says, cutting off your bitter inner thoughts, “I know you don’t like it when the magazines bother you.”

You don’t? You don’t. Yes, that makes sense, ‘you’ definitely wouldn’t have. And it’s not like you feel comfortable with them either. In fact, if you think about the fact your drowned rat appearance will be on every tabloid in the city by tomorrow, probably alongside photos from your birthday, you feel so nauseous you could collapse. Going to compartmentalise that one.

“Yes, going, let’s go,” you say, following Dick out of the restaurant.

Despite the fact that the security guards are trying their best, it’s getting quite rowdy out here. When Dick wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you with his body, you almost just pass out right there. His muscles… Your heart simply can’t take it. As it is, Dick notices you jump like a foot in the air, and backs off. He still makes sure to try and protect you from their vision as much as possible.

Still, in an act that is purely rebellious, you turn and give them a big smile and a wave. Even as you hate every single person on the other side of the divide, you want to make one thing very clear. You will not be cowed by someone like George fucking Lancaster. Your peace sign and wink are a message to them, to him, and to yourself.

Despite the fact that this new life is one you have no idea how to handle, you know one thing. Put on a face, and it’ll always be easier.

Dick is probably wondering what the hell happened to you for you to be acting this way. Your shirt has a giant stain on it, you just broke up with your cheating boyfriend, went through a traumatising experience just a few days ago, and you’ve got the biggest grin on your face. This behaviour speaks more and more of a full blown mental breakdown. And it’s not the first you’ve had or the last.

There’s paparazzi snapping thousands of photos of the two of you, and instead of shying away as ‘you’ used to, you throw up a peace sign. One of the papps drops their camera. That confuses you a bit, as your peace sign deflates slightly. Didn’t they want more pictures? Weren’t you supposed to pose…?

For all you stalked celebrities online, you realise you have no idea how to pretend to be one. This is going to become an issue, you can already tell.

He points at a car, and you assume it’s his because he starts making his way over. He’s obviously done this sort of thing before, using and guiding the security with a smooth confidence. Even still, the two of you are a bit too close for comfort.

Which you prove, by putting your foot directly in your mouth.

“I don’t have abs, but do you think the press would like my stomach like they like yours?” you say, and almost immediately regret it. Another poor joke. You are deflecting so hard. And why the hell did you bring that up, you dunce? You feel your brain cells draining the more you’re around this guy, it’s not healthy for you.

“Please don’t pull your shirt up in public,” Dick sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown. It’s spreading, like the plague. You’re patient zero, of course. Even still he gets you guys to the car, and opens the side door for you. You follow his wordless command and slip into the passenger seat.

“I won’t. Sorry, sorry,” you reply, to relieve him of some of the trauma you’re currently inflicting.

He glances back to the papps, and then back down at you. His smile bowls you over like he’s getting the last strike in a fucking 300. He genuinely is the most beautiful human being you’ve ever seen. Thankfully, he closes the door so you have a moment to gather your sanity before he goes around the car and gets in the driver’s seat.

You hope you’re subtle when you shift away from him slightly. It shouldn’t be that surprising really. You were stupid on average. You would be stupider around attractive people. You would be frankly disastrous around someone as blastingly hot as Dick Grayson. The Waynes in general turned you into a drooling idiot.

Good god, you need to get out of this car. As soon as you think that, Dick is pulling away from the parking spot and out onto the streets. He makes slow progress because Gotham traffic, but eventually you manage to flee the horrifying stares of the cameras. Already you can tell it’ll be giving you nightmares. Probably along with images of the guy who tried to rape you and Damian Wayne sneering at you.

“So, how are you feeling?”

Despite how you wish it not, Mr. Grayson decides he’s going to start a conversation with you.

“Good,” you reply, the answer instinctive and an obvious lie.

You can feel his gaze on the side of your face, but you don’t dare return it.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, and his voice is gentle. Sort of infantilising if you’ll be honest.

While it is very clear to anyone who looks at you that you have no idea what you’re doing, you’d rather he didn’t bring it up. You’ll figure it out. You’ve always managed to figure it out. This is what you get for asking for help. Really, despite your momentary panic you could’ve taken George. Probably not physically, but…

“You can talk to me if you want, you know?”

“Can you stop the car, please?” you respond, when that question immediately activates your fight or flight response. Dick must notice something about you, because he quickly shoots forward and into a momentarily available parking spot.

You scramble with the door, shoving your way back out onto the asphalt. The immediate distinct smell of Gotham, even Gotham’s richer districts, calms you down. Sewage, the ocean, and the ever present smoke and fog.

Fuck’s sake. You aren’t making yourself look anymore well put together.

Clearing your throat, you turn and find Richard Grayson coming around the car hood towards you. There’s a worried look in his eyes, and you really don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like you made a deal with the devil. By getting rid of George, you’d gotten a new problem - and an infinitely more complicated one.

Shit, you need to stop making rash decisions when you’re having panic attacks. You’d say you should probably try and stop having panic attacks entirely, but you don’t really know how to do that.

The sound of your name has you snapping back to attention. Dick looks even more worried.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks, taking a few slow steps towards you. Again, infantilizing. Like you’re a wild animal about to run. Wait, weren’t you just comparing yourself to a chihuahua? Well, it’s not the same when other people do it.

“I’d like to take a walk,” you say, hand scrunching into your pyjama pants, “Alone, I’d like some time alone.”

“…In that?” He glances down at the stain that is slowly starting to dry. It’s making your skin itchy, but at least it’s not as cold.

“I can buy something,” you say, remembering one of the apps on your phone was connected to your bank account, which you had to assume was pretty full. It’s kind of stupid that you haven’t checked that yet.

You’re starting to feel a bit defensive towards your own intelligence. Maybe it’s because you seemingly keep making all the worst decisions.

Dick doesn’t make it any better.

“Do you have cash on you?” he asks, showing how little faith he has in your general abilities to survive as an adult in Gotham.

“I do, I’ll be fine,” you insist, because god damn it, you will be. You just need a fucking minute.

You ran from the Wayne manor because you felt like you were being watched, and then as soon as you showed up at the world’s most uncomfortable apartment, the haunting wraith known as George dragged you out in your P.J.s. You could figure it the fuck out, if these people would give you some fucking space.

Richard Grayson seems to realise that you’re getting upset, because he goes quiet for a moment. After staring at you for a moment longer, for which you manage to find the courage to maintain eye contact through pure stubborn will, he asks you one final question.

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home or something?” he asks, still seeming so determined to help you.

His suggestion brings flashes of images of you breaking down in front of the Bruce Wayne to mind. From almost a birds eye view, you see yourself sobbing against your own ruined dress as the billionaire looked on. Bile literally jumps up your throat, and it takes a lot of willpower not to grimace at the suggestion.

“Look, Mr. Grayson, I really appreciate-”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that.”

Once again, you feel the urge to simply sprint away from your own problems, but you manage to hold yourself still. Still, you can’t think of a solution. You can’t really think much of anything. Instead you stare at Richard Grayson with your hands threaded together and your lips pressed into a thin line.

Though you open your mouth to speak, you find you have no excuses ready or available. You’ve talked yourself into a corner already, and it’s your third day in this world. Marvellous. Maybe you should just tell the truth.

Still, the dangers outweigh the pros. They don’t know you, they don’t have any real reason to take care of you. If they believe you, they’ll toss you out onto the streets penniless. And if they don’t-

You blink. There’s a highway sign behind Dick, and it catches your attention like a lightning bolt. ‘Arkham Asylum 800 miles’. It’s white blocky letters on green panelling feels like a sign from god, warning you from the path you consider taking.

And then you realise that you might actually get sent to Arkham if you say anything, and you resolve to never tell a single soul about what has happened to you. You’ve heard enough stories about the asylum, and by god, you are not being roommates with the fucking Joker of all people.

Eventually Dick realises he’s not getting anything out of you and he sighs, shaking his head. His annoyingly perfect hair mesmerises you for a second, but you manage to wrangle your brain back under control. He really doesn’t make it easy.

“I just want to know if you’re safe. If you’re going through anything, you know we’re always happy to help-”

“Dick,” you say his name, face twisting in discomfort, “This was a… a one time thing. Usually I can handle my problems. It just… it caught me off guard. George cheating was a huge shock, and I needed someone to stand by me.”

“And you know I always will, right?”

Ah. That’s… Dick Grayson was a stranger. You didn’t know him, and more than that he did not know you. He did not know what you would do, could do. You didn’t think anyone did, not even yourself.

It’s a silly idea to expect your celebrity crush to save you, and it’s one you find you can’t stomach it at the moment. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself at the idea. It’s too indulgent, too silly. It’s very simply, not possible.

You’ve given up on relying on miracles. These lessons had been beaten into you, really. You didn’t want to have to learn them again.

Your feelings must show on your face.

Dick lets out a whoosh of air, frustration palpable. He carts his hand through his hair. It still looks perfect. The world is unfair, yadda yadda.

“You run hot and cold, you know?” he gives you a grin. It says a lot about his ability to act, seeing as it seems almost natural. Almost, being the key word.

Also, he is absolutely correct. The chihuahua effect is in full-swing. And you know what? You are probably going to continue to run hot and cold, because you’ve never made a decision in your life. He’ll just have to get used to it.

You raise your hands and shrug, in the universal ‘what-can-you-do?’ motion. He wasn’t wrong. You were being completely erratic. Not even you knew what you’d do next. At least life isn’t boring these days, right Right? You wonder who you are trying to fool, because it’s certainly not yourself.

“I’ll contact you if I need anything,” you lie, because it seems to be the right thing to end this torturous conversation, “And I’ll make sure to keep contact with Alfred. You can talk to Jeanine if you need anything, as well.”

Dick, unfortunately, calls you out on your bullshit.

“But not you, right?” he says, smile still printed on his face.

Woof. You think… you’ve hurt his feelings? Ah shit, you instantly feel like the scum of the earth. Still, you don’t know how you could fix this. Arkham is a genuine threat lingering over your shoulder, you don’t know enough about your new cut-throat billionaire world, and you can not lose any faith they have in you. Any that you have left, that is.

You’re sorry, but this is coming down to survival. And you are a greedy person, after all.

In the end, you don’t have anything to say, and Richard Grayson leaves without a word. Watching him walk towards his car, you feel… bad. Really bad. The part of you that is still crushing on this guy, a very large part of you, feels like you’ve ended the earth. The other part, the one that recognises that once again you’re going to have to fight for yourself… well, she thinks so too.

Maybe… maybe you could fix this. Apologise. Once you’ve gotten your bearings and know you’re safe and 100% financially stable, maybe you’ll figure it out. Give him his shirt back after you’ve dry-cleaned it.

For now, you give him your back as well.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[thecchiiiiiiii]

Fallin’ all in you by Shawn Mendes – “But since you came along, I’m thinking baby, you are bringing out a different kind of me. There’s no safety net that’s underneath, I’m free. Fallin’ all in you” (Megan Skiendel x Reader)

Synopsis: Megan was already having a hard time with college, what more if she has to take a job and her trainer turns out to be you.

—☆

Megan never thought the smell of burnt coffee beans would become part of her daily routine.

But then again, she never thought she’d be working at the cafe near her campus where she gets her coffee.

College was already heavy: her backpack always felt too full, her wallet always too empty.

So, when her allowance started slipping through her fingers faster than she could refill her planner, she decided to trade a few hours of sleep for a part-time barista gig.

Megan never thought that juggling college and a part-time job would be easy.

But she also didn’t think it would lead her here, standing behind the café counter with her new black apron tied in a messy knot and your exasperated eyes boring holes into her soul.

She’d seen you before, the stoic barista at the café right across from campus where she religiously got her iced lattes to survive 8 AM lectures.

You were the “grumpy one,” according to the online reviews and the whispers of students. She never thought you’d end up being the one training her.

“You’re late.” Those were the first words you said to her on her first shift.

“I’m only two minutes—”

“That’s two minutes we’re not prepping the pastry counter. Let’s go.”

You didn’t smile. You didn’t even look at her properly. But when she nearly sliced her finger on the bagel knife, you pushed her hand away and did it for her without a word.

Megan’s first shift started with spilled milk— literally. She fumbled the milk jug trying to froth it for a cappuccino, and half of it hit the floor.

You watched her in silence from the register. A deep sigh came out from you, tired, sharp around the edges.

“Wipe it up before someone slips,” you said, voice flat, turning away before Megan could read the rest of your face.

But later, when she went to the supply closet for paper towels, she found a mop already leaning by the mess. And when she glanced back, you were across the room, pretending to sort coins in the tip jar, eyes firmly averted.

—☆

It happened again on a rainy Wednesday.

Megan accidentally punched in the wrong order during the rush hour, two drinks turned into six refunds. You snapped.

“For once, can you just think before you touch the register?” you hissed, voice low so customers wouldn’t hear but sharp enough to sting.

Her smile faltered. She ducked her head, muttering, “I’m sorry,” before grabbing the mop to clean the spilled chai latte near the counter.

When she turned away, you saw it. The quick swipe under her eyes, her shoulders trembling just once before she straightened up.

You felt it in your chest, an uncomfortable guilt. You wanted to say sorry but couldn’t find the words. So, you made her tea instead, left it on the staff counter. It was all you could manage. She smiled when she found it anyway.

The next day, she found a sticky note on the staff fridge: “Don’t forget to eat.”

She turned to ask if it was for her. But you were already at the espresso machine, headphones in, back turned, pretending you didn’t see her hold the note up. She stood there for a second, the corner of her lip curling, wondering. Then slipped it into her pocket and didn’t push.

—☆

That weekend, Megan sank into her usual corner table at the cafe. Her friends were waiting: Daniela, sprawled out with her laptop; Sophia, doodling in her sketchbook; Yoonchae, already halfway through her third matcha latte; Manon, giggling over some playlist; and Lara, her dorm roommate, scribbling notes.

“So,” Daniela said, raising an eyebrow. “How’s the new job? How’s grumpy?”

“Don’t call them that,” Megan mumbled.

“It’s true!” Manon chimed in. “They look like they’d hiss at the sun if they could.”

Sophia snorted. “Are they at least cute in a ‘sleeps 3 hours a night’ way?”

“Shut up” Megan shouted in a whisper.

—☆

Megan’s first week was chaos — the cash register jammed twice, a ceramic mug slipped through her fingers and smashed on the floor, and she mixed up a latte order for a mocha and nearly cost them a regular.

You sighed when it happened. Every time. A tired sigh, like you’d seen this a hundred times before and had hoped, somehow, that Megan might be different.

But instead of giving clipped answers, you’d hand her another rag to mop up milk, show her for the third time how to steam it properly, and say: “Again. Slower this time.”

One rush hour afternoon, she cracked another latte glass. A fancy branded one this time. She froze when you turned around.

“Do you know how much that costs?” you said, exasperated.

She flinched. “I’m sorry, I’ll— you can take it from my pay—”

You slammed the broom down beside her, not quite meeting her eyes. “Forget it. I’ll cover it.”

She stared. “But that’s like… $12 dollars, isn’t it?”

You grumbled, brushing past her, voice clipped: “Then stop breaking them, sunshine.”

She turned, watching your back as you pulled down another mug for the next order. But you never turned back. She didn’t say thank you. Didn’t know how.

But she also didn’t know if you meant that last part as mockingly or affectionately, she bet it was the first option.

Later that shift, another co-worker, Jace, cornered you by the fridge. “You know you’re too hard on her, right?” Jace hissed.

You clapped back. “She’s clumsy. She needs to learn—”

“She’s trying. And you care, obviously. Just— maybe show her you do, yeah?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn't.

That night, Lara found Megan sitting cross-legged on their dorm floor, coffee cup half-empty, textbooks open but forgotten. “You’re still upset?” Lara asked gently.

“It’s just… they don’t have to be so mean all the time.”

“You knew they were grumpy when you signed up for this, sunshine.”

“Yeah, but—” Megan sighed, tracing circles on her cup. “Sometimes I think they really hate me.”

Lara nudged her knee. “With the way they just covered for something you broke, maybe not”

—☆

Sometimes, your coldness stung harder than a dropped mug that would leave a scratch when shattered pieces comes in contact with her skin.

One night, she tried to joke with you while cleaning the milk wand. Her easy grin, the way she nudged your shoulder.

You were exhausted. Your laptop had crashed that morning, your last shift pay was docked for a mistake that wasn’t yours, and the café manager was on your back about the broken printer (the one Megan had shorted with spilled syrup).

So, when she giggled and leaned closer, you snapped. “Focus, Megan. This isn’t a playground. If you can’t handle it, quit.”

She froze. The café lights felt suddenly too bright. Buzzing like neon in her skull.

She nodded, backing away, the smile gone. “Yeah. Sorry.”

You saw the way her shoulders curled in. You hated yourself for it. But by the time you looked up, her back was already turned. And you didn’t have the words to pull her back.

Jace cornered you again in the alley behind the café, cigarette between his teeth, He didn't hold back. “You’re an ass, you know that?”

You didn’t meet his eyes, flicking your lighter open and shut. “She broke the printer. That’s fucking $200 dollars out of my pocket.”

“So? She’s trying. You’re not blind — you see how she kills herself to do it right. She worships the ground you stomp on, and you keep stepping on her neck.”

You bristled. “It’s better if she hates me. She can find better than—”

Jace’s laugh was sharp. “Then stop staring at her like you don’t want her to hate you.”

—☆

The next day, Megan was walking back from class with Daniela when she spotted a familiar silhouette in the courtyard. Head down, pen moving furiously over a battered notebook. A stack of textbooks taller than their coffee cups back at the cafe. She paused. Watched them rub their temples, squinting at the fading sunlight.

Daniela nudged her. “Is that—?”

“Yeah,” Megan whispered. It hit her then. The tired eyes, the constant tension, the sighs. You were just like her: another student trying to stay afloat.

Later in her shift, she found a cupcake in her locker. Vanilla frosting, sprinkled with chocolate shavings. Her favorite. No note. Just there, like magic. She poked her head into the back room, finding you reloading the syrup bottles.

“Did you…?”

You didn’t look up. “Don’t work with an empty stomach. Bad for your shift.”

She stepped closer. The backroom light flickered. She could almost see your eyes soft behind the mask.

“Hey,” she said, so gentle you almost flinched. “Thank you.”

You only nodded, once, curt — then busied yourself with the syrup. She didn’t push for more. She just stood there, cupcake in hand, smiling at your back.

—☆

A week later, Megan pulled her weight at the café. Really did. She double-checked orders, wiped down tables twice, restocked syrups without being asked. You noticed. Of course, You always did anyway.

When she turned around, sweaty hair stuck to her forehead, you handed her a fresh cup of water without a word.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

You didn’t smile, but your lips twitched. “Good job today.”

It meant more than any compliment she’d gotten that week.

—☆

Megan wasn’t at the café today, she was with her friends— Daniela, Sophia, Yoonchae, Manon, and Lara. They were sprawled on the dorm floor, ramen cups between them, laughing about Daniela’s latest crush when Lara, her roommate, elbowed Megan. “So. Grumpy barista. What’s the update?” Lara teased, wiggling her brows.

Megan groaned, face buried in her pillow. “They still hate me, Lara. Still so cold. I swear every time I drop something they lose a year off their life.”

Sophia snorted. “Or they lose money.”

Yoonchae leaned back against the bed. “But you like them.”

Megan peeked up. “Do not.”

They all laughed. Lara just said, “You talk about them too much for someone who doesn’t.”

—☆

You started noticing more. How she’d arrive early on weekends to stock napkins. How she’d bite her tongue and take the blame when you're not there to save her.

Once, you found her in the storeroom, sitting cross-legged on the cold tile floor, restocking sleeves of cups alone because she didn’t want to ask you for help.

“Megan.”

She jumped. “Sorry! I’ll finish soon—”

You bent down, took the sleeves from her hands, and helped her stack them on the shelf. She watched you, eyes wide, like you were doing something unimaginable.

“Don’t do everything alone,” you murmured.

“You don’t, either,” she shot back before she could stop herself.

You paused, caught off guard by how true it was.

There were moments when you’d catch yourself watching her. Wiping down tables, hair tied up in that messy bun that never held, sleeves pushed up, grin peeking through the stress.

Sometimes she’d feel your stare, look up, ready to say something, and you’d shut it down. A quick cough, a turned back, a mumbled order to restock the napkins. She’d stand there for a heartbeat longer, the corners of her lips wanting to curl, wondering why. Then decide not to ask.

Because every time she saw it��� that warmth flicker in your eyes— you snatched it away before she could hold it.

—☆

Megan also found herself lingering too long behind the counter just to watch you work.

The way you frowned at the grinder, how your fingers tapped the register when the line got long. You, with your bitten-down nails and tired eyes, your quiet apologies when you brushed past her in the narrow kitchen.

She knew she shouldn’t think about you this much. It made no sense. She had midterms, rent, her group project with Daniela breathing down her neck.

But still, she found herself hoping you’d lecture her again about the milk frother just so you’d look at her a bit longer.

She wondered if you noticed how her heart leapt to her throat. If you noticed how she nearly dropped it just so you’d steady her wrist again.

That night, Megan lay awake in the dorm room she shared with Lara. Lara was asleep, one arm thrown over her notes.

Megan stared at the ceiling, replaying the way your hand brushed hers when you passed her a mug that afternoon.

—☆

A week later, Megan found you asleep on the break room couch. You’d been covering her shift and yours for three days straight because she’d had midterms and you told her you’d “handle it.”

Just like when you told yourself you didn’t care when she broke another glass jar. Or when she dropped a bag of beans that cost more than your grocery budget for the week.

You told yourself you’d take it from your paycheck instead of hers— no need to tell her.

She smiled too much for you to let her frown ever again.

She stood there for a moment, coffee mug in her hands, watching the rise and fall of your chest. She noticed the textbooks stacked beside you, half-finished papers with coffee rings.

She put the mug down by your side. Scribbled on the napkin beneath it was a note: ‘You owe me a coffee, okay?’ — the same words she’d once told a stranger in the library years ago.

—☆

One late shift, Megan dropped her pen under the counter. When she ducked down to grab it, she found your phone. Unlocked, sitting on the lower shelf.

One open note app:

Don’t forget to switch the filter for Megan’s shifts — she always forgets.

Megan likes vanilla syrup double pump, leave extra cup.

Megan’s paycheck. Cover breakages again this month. 40.

She sat there for a second, heart hammering, before you rounded the corner.

You froze. She scrambled to her feet, pushing the phone back.

Your mask was iron-tight. “Don’t touch my stuff, sunshine.”

She nodded, stepping back. “Sorry.” She wanted to ask, wanted to push. But you were already turning away. So, she didn’t.

—☆

One night, you stayed late doing the weekly inventory. You thought you were alone until you heard her soft humming.

She was in the corner, sorting the milk crates, her hair tied up, sleeves pushed past her elbows, face smudged with a streak of chocolate syrup she hadn’t noticed yet.

“Megan, go home.”

“I’m almost done.”

You leaned against the fridge, arms crossed, pretending not to stare at how focused she looked when she was in her element. No silly smile, no clumsy slip-ups, just Megan, determined and steady.

She caught you staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” you muttered. And when she turned away, you let yourself smile.

It should be nothing. Somehow it felt like something.

—☆

It happened after a slow Thursday shift.

The café was dark except for the humming fridge light. Rain pressed against the windows like a secret.

She leaned against the counter, arms crossed. You were behind it, closing the till.

“I saw your note, you know,” she said, voice quiet but steady.

You froze.

“The one about covering my breakages. The vanilla syrup.” She tilted her head, searching your face for something real.

You exhaled, shoulders dropping. You’d run out of places to hide. “You remember the library?” you asked instead.

“Finals week. You were there. You gave me a coffee. You said I owed you.”

She blinked.

“That was the worst week of my life. I was broke, failing, one missed meal away from passing out. And you — you gave me warmth when I didn’t think I deserved it.”

You stepped closer, eyes tired but soft. “I’ve been trying to pay it back ever since. The mugs, the printer, the broken filter— or everything that costed me— I don’t care. If it’s you, it’s fine.”

She looked at you. This tired, cold, grumpy soul who never let her see the softness unless she looked twice. And then she laughed, breathless, bright. “You owe me a coffee, huh?”

You grinned. Small, crooked, the first real smile she’d ever pulled from you.

“And now you owe me, sunshine. With that—” She didn’t let you finish.

She pulled you by your apron and kissed you like you’re the coffee she gets every day to start the day. You kissed back just as much.

The café didn’t smell like burnt coffee for once. It smelled like old espresso and rain and her shampoo.

When you pulled back, you whispered against her lips: “With that… maybe pitch in for the things you broke next time?”

She laughed into your mouth. “Deal. Grumpy.”

—☆

Authors note:

I'm that dino anon in charlvrs ask, gang hehe hiiiiiii

I'm posting drafts of old ideas I wrote back then so its not that polished. I'll edit it when I have time or when I'm in fhe mood to do so 😁

[munsonson]

Untitled

Note(s): 18+ ONLY, Minors DNI, AFAB!Reader x Eddie Munson, SEX, Filthy Dialogue, Even Filthier Descriptive Lingo, Kind of Public Sex

"Pl-Please," you beg, your breasts heaving underneath you as he presses you harder into the shelf cluttered with cleaning supplies and filthy rags. Your hands find purchase on the shelf right underneath the first, occupied instead with storage bins and mop heads you accidentally knocked to the floor as the two of you moved in messy tandem. You let out a little squeak at a particularly harsh thrust that had you seeing stars.

He had your skirt bunched up against your lower back, clutched in his ringed fist as he bucked his hips furiously into yours, sure that the denim of his jeans he'd pulled down just below his cock were going to give your legs a searing burn, but you loved it. He had his face buried in your hair while his free hand gripped the shelf you were unwillingly resting your cheek on.

"God, so fucking wet," he snarls, almost in disgust, but you knew for a fact that wasn't true. He loved how wet you got for him, that you were practically swimming in your thin panties at just the thought of being bent over by him. "You hear that?" You do, the sickening squelch of his cock moving in and out of your abused hole the only other noise emitting from this damned janitor's closet aside from your quiet moans and his animalistic growls and grunts.

"So mad at you," Eddie sneers, and he's thrusting harder now if it were possible, his hips smacking into yours, so sure his balls were hitting your clit with every impact. "Why him, huh? Why'd you choose h-him? FUCK!"

You yelp as he grabs a fistful of your hair and drags your head back enough for him to suck dark, unforgiving marks into your throat. You knew now what had gotten him so worked up. In Biology, when called upon by your teacher, you'd selected a kid named Brian as your partner. He was top of the class, someone you were sure would help you get an A. You didn't think Eddie would take it in such a way but you were so glad he did.

"Eddieee, I...OOH!"

He'd taken his hand previously holding your skirt and instead began furiously rubbing little circles into your clit as he began to lose rhythm, getting too close to the end. Too soon. He didn't want this to end so soon, but how could he last in a pussy like yours? You felt so heavenly, he'd tell you. So tight and so warm and so fucking inviting. Any guy would kill to fuck your pussy but only he was allowed to, only Eddie, the freak of Hawkins.

"Fuck, fuck, hnnngh," he groans, emptying himself in you just as you climaxed from his fingers rubbing your clit. "You're gonna tell the teacher tomorrow you wanna switch partners."

"Maybe," you said instead, grinning at him, your throat already littered with purple marks. "Brian's gonna get me my A that I need to bring me my grade up. You barely attend the class as is."

"Teacher ain't got shit I'm interested in hearing." Eddie confesses, breathless as he pulls his pants back up over his hips, assisting you in pulling your panties back up your shaking thighs, giving your ass a sharp tap with his palm. "But if you want an A, I'll give you one. But come tomorrow, Brian's looking for someone else to partner up with. Or I'm not letting you cum."

And you knew he meant it.

[solxamber]

Romance Clichés With: Idia Shroud

Cliché: The Dramatic Save

Others: Leona ; Vil ; Azul ; Kalim ; Jamil ; Riddle

The thing about Idia is that he’s very used to lurking in the background. Life is much simpler that way. But ever since you’d started spending more time with him, he’d found himself in the wildest, most "otome game" situations imaginable. And today? Today topped them all.

You’d been standing together in the courtyard, him telling you about his latest game finds, hands shoved into his pockets as he tried not to fidget too much. It was rare he got to hang out with someone he, uh, actually wanted to hang out with, so his nerves were pinging off the charts.

That’s when it happened.

With zero warning, a large, heavy textbook teetered off the edge of a windowsill above and began its rapid descent towards Idia’s head. He didn’t notice; he was too busy stammering about his latest high score. But you did.

In one swift move, you threw yourself across the space between you and practically flew through the air, hands outstretched like some overdramatic action hero.

You managed to get between him and the descending missile (okay, just a textbook, but in the moment, it was deadly), and though the impact wasn’t as dramatic as you’d pictured, you still managed to shield him with your entire being, shoving him safely aside.

By the time he realized what was going on, you were already fussing over him. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?! Did it hit you anywhere?”

He blinked, processing what just happened as you started checking his head for bumps, squinting at his shocked face. “Uh… w-what?” he stammered, brain catching up about three seconds too late. “Did… did you just… jump in front of me?” The look of awe on his face was equal parts adorable and ridiculous.

“Well, obviously!” You laughed, still fussing, hands on his shoulders. “Are you alright?”

Idia’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to process the sheer amount of romance that just smacked him in the face. You, his crush, his dream come to life, had gone full protagonist, for him. It was like the best tropes had all collided in his brain at once, and it was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“N-No one’s ever done something like that… f-for me…” he mumbled, cheeks reddening as he stared at you with this helpless, smitten look.

You tilted your head, a soft smile crossing your face. “Well, I’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe, Idia.”

Somewhere in his brain, the confetti cannons were going off. The “love meter” hit max. The screen flashed “TRUE ENDING” in bold, sparkly letters. He knew it was all real, but a tiny part of him felt like he’d accidentally triggered some hidden route with a secret character, and that character was you.

And before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush. “I think I’m in love with you. Like, maybe have been for a while. You’re like, the one or something, and—oh my god, why am I saying this out loud—”

He clamped a hand over his mouth, wide-eyed, as if he could just take it back if he tried hard enough. But instead, he saw you looking at him, your smile widening as you took his hand, gently pulling it down.

“You mean it?” you asked, a bit of awe creeping into your voice.

He couldn’t look at you, his eyes darting everywhere except your face as he mumbled, “Y-Yeah, I mean, yeah, I do. I can’t believe you’re real, honestly, this feels like a fever dream, but—”

Before he could talk himself out of it, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, quick and sweet. It was enough to short-circuit his brain, and when you pulled back, he just blinked, stunned, frozen like his internal processing unit had just maxed out.

“Does that answer your question?” you teased, unable to hold back a little laugh at his flustered expression.

“Uh-huh,” he finally managed, a dopey smile creeping onto his face as his brain rebooted. “Y-Yeah… yes.” He cleared his throat, trying to seem cooler, but the blush on his cheeks was a dead giveaway.

And as you both stood there, your hands still linked, he felt like the luckiest player in the world—like he’d stumbled upon the rarest, sweetest route of them all, and he wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

Masterlist

[sharieb]

Accidental Lap Captures

"This is NOT what it looks like" – it absolutely is (and it’s very comfy).

Pairing: LADs X Non-MC Genre: Fluff Writer's note: I should never have indulged myself in the squishy to begin with, cause my mind is now exploding with cute squishy non-MC ideas

The Gremlin Trap

You’re fixing a wire above his desk, tiptoeing on a stool while Sylus lounges below, looking far too smug. “Need help, dove?”

You scoff. “I’ve got it.”

Spoiler: You don’t.

The stool slips. You squeak and fall. Directly into his lap. Face-to-face. Hands on his chest. Knees hugging his hips.

He grins. “Well, well. My lap has been blessed.” “SYLUS.” “I didn’t do anything. You attacked me with your thighs.”

You try to get up. He holds your waist, oh-so-gently. “Don’t rush. You’re comfortable. I’m comfortable. Let’s just… live here now.” He’s enjoying this WAY too much. Do NOT look at his lips. Oh no. I looked. He saw me looking. Abort mission. Also… when did his hands get that big? And why is my entire lap currently a furnace? Did he just nuzzle my stomach like it’s a pillow?! Is he purring?? She fell into my lap. Into MY LAP. Stay cool. Be normal. No, don’t grin more. She’ll know. Stop staring at her cheeks. She’s so squishy. And cute. I am in hell. Happy, flustered hell.

He definitely gives your squishy tummy an affectionate squeeze-under the guise of stabilising you, of course.

Later, he insists on helping with the wires. But every time you try to stand on something again, he physically lifts you instead. “Safety first,” he smirks. “Also, my arms missed you.”

The Clinical Catastrophe

You’re helping him reorganise medical supply cabinets. You hop on the counter to reach, balancing carefully. Too carefully.

He notices too late.

You slip, and in true romantic sitcom timing, end up flat on his lap, thighs spread over his, both of you stunned.

Zayne.exe has crashed. “Zayne! I-I didn’t mean-”

He blinks. “No, it’s alright. Are you okay?”

He’s trying SO HARD to be composed. So hard. His hands hover awkwardly around you. “You’re not hurt?” “No! Just embarrassed.”

He nods slowly, cheeks pink. “Ah. Then… perhaps we should move before your embarrassment becomes mine.” Do NOT notice how warm he is. Don’t—Too late. My brain has stopped working. Do not register how his arms feel. Oh, no.Also… was that a muscle flex I just felt? Why does he look like he’s trying so hard not to boop my thighs? She’s not hurt. Good. She’s on my lap. Bad. No, not bad. Just... complicated. She’s very soft. And close. I must move. But also never move again. What is wrong with me.

He gives you an ice pack for “shock.” (It’s mostly for himself.)

He then suggests “balance training,” which is just an excuse to hold you more.

Art Imitates Fluster

You’re trying to grab a paint set from the top shelf of his studio. Rafayel’s lounging on the couch, watching with mild amusement. “Guppie, let me get it for you-” “I’ve got it!”

Cue your dramatic fall.

Straight into his lap. Chest to chest. Thighs hugging his waist.

He gasps, dramatically. “GUPPIE!” “I-I’m so sorry!” “You’re an angel descended from the heavens… to kill me with your thighs.” “RAF!”

He cups your face with paint-smudged hands. “Let me die here. Like this. My final masterpiece.” Why is he so warm? Why is he so DRAMATIC? Why do I love it here? He smells like oil paint and danger.Also… his hands are literally cradling my hips like they’re sacred. Am I the muse now? Wait—is he humming while nuzzling my tummy?! Her warmth! Her softness! My sanity, gone. My soul, hers. This is divine punishment for all my sins, and I welcome it.

He doesn’t let you move for ten minutes. Claims he needs to memorise the feeling for a new art piece.

Later, you find a sketch titled: “Heaven Fell on Me.”

It’s you. In his lap. Smiling. Flushed.

Kitchen Crisis

You’re both in the kitchen, trying to follow a simple recipe on his holopad - Xavier, bless him, is trying his best not to burn the scrambled eggs. Again.

You lean over to stir something before it sticks, but he moves at the same time to grab the seasoning, and your feet get tangled.

Cue a dramatic topple.

You land squarely on top of him on the kitchen floor, legs straddling his lap, apron strings brushing his cheeks.

He freezes. Absolutely panics. His brain goes into full cosmic meltdown. “I- I- You’re- That’s- ”

You try to get off him, but he instinctively clutches your waist. “Wait! You might knock over the… uh, molecular integrity of the… spices.”

You blink. “Did you just scientifically justify us cuddling on the floor?” “Yes.”

His cheeks are bright pink. “Also, you smell really nice.”

You both break into laughter. He’s tomato red, but still holding you like the most precious comet. His kitchen is a mess. His face is on fire. But he’s not letting go. And maybe I’m fine staying right here.Also… how is his lap so comfy? Is he secretly made of clouds and starlight? Are his fingers now tapping rhythmically against my thighs like it’s a comfort stim?? Her knees. Her weight. Her giggles. I am not okay. I need to write a physics paper about this. I am levitating. Also… maybe I’ll keep slipping on purpose.

Later, the kitchen is still smoky, but Xavier programs a holographic recipe protocol named: “Gravitational Pancake Protocol #1.”

It activates every time you enter the kitchen.

He also installs non-slip floor tiles. But somehow, he only ever slips when you’re around.

You’re starting to suspect it's on purpose.

The Tactical Malfunction

You’re both in the supply storage room, sorting gear, when you try to reach a top shelf container. You don’t notice the small hover crate behind you.

You tip. He catches.

And somehow, you end up halfway on top of him, straddling one thigh, face inches from his. Silence. Pure, stunned silence.

Caleb’s brain: Tactical error. SYSTEM FAILURE. ABORT-

His ears go red immediately.

You gasp, trying to scramble off, but his arms instinctively tighten around your waist. “Wait - no - you’ll fall again.”

You blink. “I’m already on you.”

He freezes. “Right.”

You both stay like that for a second too long. “S-Sorry, this wasn’t on purpose- ” “No! No. It’s okay. It’s-...fine.” Why is his thigh so solid? Why is my life a romcom? WHY is he so calm? (He’s not.)Also, is it getting warmer, or is that just how hard he’s blushing? And oh god, he just looked down and noticed my tummy against him. I am going to explode. Do not look at her lips. Do not think about how soft she feels. Don’t breathe too hard or she’ll notice. This is fine. I am a professional. This is NOT fine.

Afterwards, Caleb reviews shelf safety protocols. Write a report. Never submits it. Keeps it in a locked folder labelled Incident: Heart Attack 1A.

He also recalibrates the shelf height “for safety.”

But really, it’s because he doesn’t trust himself to survive another accidental thigh incident.