#just for extra security y'know

[scootersscooter]

Grace absolutely could not have been Catholic because she would've been muttering a Saint Michael's prayer the entire way to the Waylon place to the extent where all the nerds definitely would've thought she was plotting to kill Max and would've left before they ever got the chance to get involved with that

[littlefoxwithbighat]

Truly having A Week TM. Everybody please send good vibes and energy <33

[woodenela]

Can services and apps please STOP trying to send you a freaking text for authentication/registering???

I STILL LIVE SOMEWHERE WHERE YOU DON'T HAVE RECEPTION OK I CAN'T DO THIS SHIT I JUST WANT THE CUTE SOCKS WITH POODLES ON THEM PLEASE

I can't be the only one, please I beg of you. I will not get in my car at night to drive 5 minutes up the hill where I might(!) have better connection or not bc service is so splotchy here.

[apatheticsunday]

Henchmen for Hire

AKA "Danny is employed as one of the Rogue's henchmen and he's doing so well at being discrete, none of the Bats even know he's committing crime! (They absolutely know.)" prompt idea!!

Y'know what would make this funnier?? Is if Selina Kyle, Catwoman and hoarder of strays, immediately Work Mom'd this kid.

Imagine Danny gets dumped into Gotham by himself. Except there's, like, no ectoplasm - not nearly enough to sustain his Ghost. So, his Ghost form slowly peters out and he's left penniless and powerless on the streets of Gotham. Obviously, the next step would be to find money. But how?? He can't go invisible, intangible, or Full Ghost to help him out here. And there aren't a lot of stand-up places that hire kids younger than 13, so ultimately he's forced to apply for henchmen positions. He doesn't actually find Catwoman's ad. No, she hears through the grapevine that this actual child is applying to be a drug runner for the Penguin or - oh, shit, the Joker??

Absolutely not. Selina is no saint, but she's not going to let another kid be beaten to death by the Joker. Maybe she talks to Harley and finds out where the kid's going, or maybe she just puts in an ad and hires him on the spot. To be honest, she doesn't really expect to particularly like the kid - she'll have him pick up her coffee or something, pay him at the end of the day (standard henchmen pay periods since it's likely they won't live through the end of the week), and clear her conscience.

Except Danny is a little shit.

Danny, for his part, doesn't necessarily want to be a henchman but he figured it'd be more than getting some lady's coffee, right? He imagined an evil man twirling his extra long mustache and smoking a cigar, or mobsters hunched over a gambling table grunting about... playing cards or something, he doesn't know. Instead Danny's told to pick up Catwoman's dry-cleaning. It's almost an insult when he knows she's planning a heist that includes stealing several very expensive items from a museum during an evening showing. Without him, her only henchman!! (So what if he snooped in her office? It's not like it's ghost-proof; she should've expected Bad Behavior from the Very Bad Criminal in her house.)

Selina finds out very quickly that Danny is akin to a rambunctious kitten chewing through her phone charger cable and clawing at her favorite muslin blanket (the one Bruce gifted her from one of their dates). And she's so exasperated that she agrees he can be involved. But only as a distraction and he's told that he needs to scram once the police come because she's not bailing him out of juvie if he gets caught. (She wouldn't, but she could make Bruce do it. Her lover would take one look at Danny's watery doe eyes and cave like he's already experiencing Empty Nest Syndrome.)

So, Catwoman and her littlest henchman plan to rob the Gotham Museum. She buys him a cat-themed facemask (in case things get sticky and he needs a quick anonymous getaway) like ones from Party City, it has little ears poking out from the top and it's adorable. And then it's go time.

Danny's role is to distract the crowd by pretending to be a lost kid and distract Batman if he shows up. Selina will take care of the rest - disarming the alarms, timing the museum workers' shifts, bribing the West Entry security guard, frame-freezing the surveillance cameras, smuggling in the forgery and smuggling out the original, and - well. It'll be nice not to deal with the Big Bat if he shows up, but Selina is used to doing this on her own.

She should've expected that Danny doesn't do what's expected.

Because Danny does his part as the crying, screaming child whose mother is lost amongst the chaos once the museum's power shuts off. He distracts the guards easily. Selina hides away the art, replaces the forgery on the wall, and goes to find her little stray. And Danny is clinging hysterically to The Batman, refusing to be pried off by security guards and museum workers. He's straight up sobbing. Talking about how he loves Batman and Robin, his family is dead, he wants to be Robin, did you know you should be able to see Ursa Major from Gotham but you can't because of the smog, do you think Poison Ivy can just make a lot of trees to unpolluted the air, Nightwing is his favorite superhero, do you think he'll sign an autograph-.

It's astounding how fast that kid can speak while also smearing green snot onto Batman's cape. Danny proves himself to be even more unexpected when he goes off-script, eyeing her and screaming, "Mom!" And Batman's eyes catch hers. Shit. How can she explain a tiny child calling her mother in front of her lover? That'll be an awkward conversation.

Catwoman doesn't take Danny to outings after that. Instead, she has Harley and Ivy take turns "babysitting" (i.e., using Danny as Batfam distractions) while she's at work, kind of like having the fun aunts take you shopping. Danny can do whatever he wants!! With the exception that he needs to be wearing his cat-mask at all times, to properly conceal his identity (neither woman knows he'd already thrown himself at Batman without his mask).

So, while Ivy is destroying a toxic power plant, Danny is stealing Nightwing's escrima sticks, clinging to him, "accidentally" tripping him, doing the Koala-leg thing. He goes all out when Nightwing actually does trip on him - he shrieks that he broke his arm, which forces the vigilante to pay attention to him. Sobs, clings harder, and endures the trip to the hospital on the back of Nightwing's motorcycle with a shit-eating grin.

Harley is beating the hell out of some of Joker's gang. Red Robin is doing surveillance and coordinating with GCPD so they can get the whole circus to Arkham. Except Danny is calling out where Red Robin is hiding with the glittery pink microphone that Harley bought him (originally to sing Doja Cat and Chappell Roan in her car). Joker gang's priority will always be the Batfam because of Joker's obsession with Batman and Danny uses the distraction so Harley can get a couple good swings of her bat in. He cackles maniacally when he hears a muffled, "C'mon, kid!!" from Red Robin.

And the Batkids are just like, Jesus, this kid is literally a nightmare. But they can't do anything! Are they going do arrest a kid? No. Are they going to arrest Batman's lover? No! So, they're stuck dealing with this.... absolute gremlin of a child!!

Danny, of course, is very pleased. The Bats have no idea who he is because of his little cat-mask, he's getting paid literally several grand per week, and Selina - who he's been living with ever since she realized he was homeless - even got him goldfish!

(Bruce is in his office, eyes crinkling in that iconic Dad-Smile, scrolling through candid photos Selina snuck of Danny's chocolate-smeared face while the kid was passed out on her couch. There's a fake ID under the name of Danny Fenton and several pages of foraged school records in a pile on his desk. Bruce eyes his desk drawer where several emergency adoption papers are tucked away.)

[missmookie]

(Superman 2025 is my new brainrot I fear) omg I keep thinking of like...what if during or after the time of the movie, reader (who works with Clark or is his close friend and DOESN'T know he's Superman) is all like "Where do I sign up for Supe's secret harem, cause SMASH" and Clark has to try his best to be normal around them (he has the fattest crush on them for like EVER too and they're just casually thirsting on him to himself without knowing lmaoooo) even as they just goon like hell lmao

sign me the fuck up (mhm mhm)

cw: swearing, suggestive language, allusions to sex, fem reader (bimbo! reader in a way? idk i was thinking of that kind of vibe while writing this)

you don't mean to be inappropriate a work, you really don't.

but sometimes your mouth moves faster than your brain, and the image of superman, battle-worn, slightly bleeding, and looking oh so edible on the 10 o'clock news last night is still very much rent free inside of your head.

so when you waltz into the daily planet, nearly 20 minutes late with an overly sweet iced coffee sweating in your hand and pretty heels clacking, you practically beeline to your desk and let out a dreamy sigh as if you've just seen god himself.

"okay," you start, not specifically talking to anybody, but unintentionally loud enough for clark to hear, "where do i sign up to be apart of superman's like, secret harem or something? like seriously, if he was down to fuck 24/7 i'd be ready."

clark chokes on his coffee.

you turn towards his desk and raise a brow. he's halfway through a sip of his coffee, blinking at you like you just made a threat to national security.

"what?" you giggle, feeling your face begin to heat up. "don't look at me like that clark, 'm just being honest."

he opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. he clears his throat as the tips of his ears turn red.

"i- um, a harem?"

"yeah!" you nod, crossing your legs and smoothing out your skirt as you spin slightly in your chair. "like, if he wanted a little group of sexy followers to y'know, worship him? be little housewives? i'd volunteer immediately, and i don't even like to clean up like that."

clark looks like he's buffering, straightening his tie while awkwardly trying to adjust the slowly growing tent in his slacks.

you don't notice. "and he looked so good last night. cape slightly torn, jaw bruised, dirt and soot all over him. you could see where he had took a hit to the ribs too. but he was still standing there- proud, shoulders broad, and sweaty." you bite on your nail lightly. "like if that's not the definition of sexy then i don't know what is."

he makes a soft sound. you don't notice that either.

"i had saw a screenshot on twitter last night while eating dinner and my brain just short circuited. it should be illegal for him to look like that on a weeknight, knowing damn well that i have work in the morning, distracting me like that."

clark shifts in his seat, running a hand through his curls. "i- well, he um.... might not have a harem."

you cross your arms, "that's a damn shame." you mutter.

you turn to look at him again, this time really look at him, and notice the way his kind of hunched over, clipboard in his lap, jaw clenched too tight. you frown.

"you good? you look like somebody tackled you."

"i'm fine," he says quickly. "just.. slept wrong."

you squint. "you sure? you look like you just got body slammed by god himself."

he gives you the weakest yet softest smile you've ever seen. "that's oddly specific."

"you're oddly specific."

he snorts, glancing down at his desk. but there's something about the way his shoulders curl inward, like he's almost trying to fold in on himself. you've known clark long enough when he's being weird. extra weird.

you squint again, slowly starting to smile.

"wait..."

his eyes flicker back to you. "what?"

"you're acting weird."

"i'm not-"

"you're acting like you're best friends with superman or something."

clark swallows harshly.

"i mean, you've interviewed him a few times i know that-"

"no!" he blurts, accidentally catching the eye of a few people around you two. "no, i'm not- i mean, i'm not best friends with him. not even friends if you must, i've just been lucky to interview him a couple of times."

you stare at him for a second longer, then sigh dramatically.

"damn. i was gonna offer you money for a signed chest plate or a cheek kiss."

clark almost drops his coffee.

you stretch with a soft moan, arms overhead and button-up blouse riding up just enough to expose to skin of your soft belly. his eyes dart down and back up so fast that it might have been a part of your imagination.

but it wasn't.

you don't even mean to be a menace most times. it's just who you are. you flirt when you're bored. you overshare when you're tired. and clark is just so easy to talk to. so soft. always smiling at you like you're made of starlight and sunshine, even when you're being raunchy and inappropriate and definitely (unintentionally) crossing a few lines in the workplace.

it's not like he has feelings for you.

right?

"y'know," you say casually, "if i ever did meet superman, i'd ruin his life."

clark blinks.

you nod, biting your glossy bottom lip softly. "but in a good way though, a fun way. it'd be nice to cook him meals, massage his back, ride his-"

"okay," he says, way too fast, standing up suddenly like he's about to catch on fire. "i-i need to go. real quick. i have a source meeting i forgot about."

your head tilts to the side, confused. "you always need to go somewhere whenever i talk about superman. it's suspicious."

"i just think," he stammers over his shoulder, ears a flaming red now, "that you should maybe be a little more appropriate at work."

"i think that you should maybe mind your business."

he huffs something that sounds like a laugh and shuffles away.

you watch him go, sipping your drink and wonder, briefly- why he always walks like someone punched him in the side everytime superman shows up on the news.

weird.

...but it's kind of hot though.

© missmookie est. 2025

[ashen-char]

if it's not you (i don't wanna talk)

my masterlist, to check out my other works, is here

ship: anora x reader (gender neutral)

content: no warnings except ani being a disney adult <3

summary: security!reader and ani have been hooking up. gaining her trust is hard after vanya.

word count: 1600+

Ani takes a long, pissed-off drag of her cigarette, standing outside of HQ with little more than her puffer jacket over her shoulders. The rest of her clothes are typical work attire for the erotic dancer, mesh stockings, high sparkly pleasers, a tight red dress with loose straps that accentuates her figure but comes off with a single motion during her routine. As she exhales a plume of smoke, her eyes lock with yours. You're standing barely ten feet away, stationed by the entrance with your arms crossed as you check everyone who goes in and out. Life as part of HQ's security detail has gotten a lot more interesting after you and Ani started hooking up. Right now, you try not to let your gaze flit over her body, clearing your throat and staying on task.

For her part, Ani also doesn't let your illicit affair slip, talking to Lulu as if you're not even there. "What a fucking waste of time, Lu!" Ani spits, turning to her best friend and fellow dancer who's leaning back against the brick wall, vape poking out from her mouth. "Did you notice the way those assholes have been acting all night? Not tipping for shit, and sure as hell didn't wanna go into a private."

"Fuckin' cheapskates. Tell me about it, girl," Lulu agrees. "I convinced this old dude back to room 6 and for what? Barely enough cash to cover my cab fare home!"

"You'd think they could show a little appreciation, y'know? Buying overpriced drinks and getting sloppy drunk, but not a fucking dime to show for it," Ani scoffs, accent sharp and biting. "I forgot how much this place sucks. Two weeks away and I'm already bitching."

"If he didn't take you on that Disney World honeymoon, you should sell the ring and go yourself, at least," Lulu offers.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Maybe if Jimmy stops being such an asshat about the 'long leave' I took."

They've been swapping this cig and vape as they talked for the last ten minutes, something you had to start counting since Jimmy told you to limit the dancers' smoke breaks to 15 minutes, tops. If you give Ani some extra time to cool off on the down low, no one had to know. She still had that faraway look in her eye sometimes, after coming back from her 'failed marriage' as Diamond would call it.

Your footsteps crunch on the pavement as you approach the two, clipboard in hand. Ani stands up straight at the sight of you, and you hate the way she tenses up, jaw set. You miss the stolen flirtation, the steamy glances she'd throw your way, and the touches you'd let graze over Ani's skin when no one was watching. Miss the way she'd laugh at your jokes even if no one else heard them. Miss the way she'd roll her eyes but melt into your touch whenever you held her.

"Five minutes 'til you have to go back in, Lulu. Think Jimmy mentioned one of your regulars is coming?" A little white lie. You wanna talk to Ani, wanna get things sorted after the last time you two 'hung out'. She's been avoiding being alone with you since last Tuesday, when you left before she woke up, so you haven't had the chance to explain. Explain that it was a family emergency, explain that you didn't plan on leaving her, explain that her bed is one of the few places you can actually rest and relax. 

Fuck. You're so sprung.

"Oh, Peter?" Lulu giggles, already fixing up her skirt and her hair at the mention of her regular. "Alright, I'm heading back in. You coming with, Ani?"

Ani's arms cross over her chest, something you can tell is a defensive posture but hopefully Lulu only takes as the same annoyance at the Headquarters cheapskates. "Nah, I'll just finish this," she tells her friend, flicking off some ash from her cigarette and giving Lulu an 'I'm fine' smile. "Go on ahead, I'll see you inside." The blonde accepts this easily, flashing you a polite goodbye as she enters through HQ's double doors.

A beat. Ani isn't looking at you, apparently having decided that the glowing ember at the end of her cig is fascinating. She passes it to you wordlessly but doesn't wanna be the one break the silence. Fair enough.

You sigh. Taking a quick drag since she offered, your words come out with the smoke into the hazy air. "Can we talk? I know I fucked up, but-"

Even that is enough to make the stripper scoff, a bitter laugh escaping her cherry red lips. "Talk?" Anora shakes her head. "Last time we talked, you left." An accusatory finger jabs at your chest, the pointed acrylic of her nail digging in and making it hurt almost as much as her hateful tone. "Before the crack of dawn. Without. A. Damn. Word." Her voice rises with each word, and you glance towards the door to make sure no one overheard.

"Listen to me. I had an emergency. Family shit." Her bitter expression softens the slightest bit, going from a grimace to a frown. "Not that I gotta explain myself to you, since you made it plenty clear we're just fooling around but... I'm not the type to fuck around on a woman I care about."

"Care about?" Ani nods, all sarcastic as she nods and finally, finally looks up into your eyes. "Don't make me fucking laugh, OK? I don't have time for this. I got shit to do. Break's almost over."

"I'll tell Jimmy your break just started now," you barter, but she just laughs, stubbing out her cigarette on the wall and turning on her heel. "Don't run away."

Before you realise it, you've grabbed her elbow. Anora stops. She didn't have to, your touch is barely holding her there, and she could stomp away easily if she really didn't want to hear you out. It tells you she wants to hear this. Wants some assurance that this isn't it, this isn't all you see her as. "Run away? You're the one who ran off, you jackass." And you hate the implicit comparison in that, hate that she's seeing you like her immature dirtbag of an ex.

"I didn't mean to. I should've told you, I know. I didn't think about how it'd look." It's not an explanation but it'll have to be enough. "And I do care. I thought I made that obvious."

She looks at you for a long moment, staring, searching for something in your eyes like she's desperate to believe you. That you really do care, in some fucked-up small way.

"Oh yeah? You care?" she says, in that higher voice she puts on whenever she's mocking whatever poor soul got on her bad side. It stings, but not so bad as the idea that she thinks she's hard to care about. Finds it impossible now, after her runaway pathetic excuse of a husband that left her broken and back on the Headquarters' roster.

"Yes, I do."

She rolls her eyes, but there's no affection in them now. Not like the last time she did it when you two were cuddled up in her bed. "So what was the emergency? Hm?" Ani tilts her head, stalking closer, getting up in your space. "No, actually, you know what? Fuckin' tell me a single thing you know about me that isn't about how good of a fuck I am, or how I feel stretched out on your fingers."

Without skipping a beat, you surprise even yourself when the next words fall out of your mouth. Little things you've noticed when you sleep over, like how she decorates her space or what things make her pretty face fall. "You collect those stupid little Disney figurines that they sell in mystery boxes but don't open them right away because it gives you something to look forward to," you tell her. "Your full name's Anora Mikheeva. You don't like the way it sounds when someone pronounces it wrong, but you don't like when they pronounce it right either. Sounds like your sister when she's yelling at you."

Blinking rapidly, she looks at you like you've grown a second head. You think for a moment that you said too much, showed Ani all your cards, before she starts laughing. "Fuck. What are you, a stalker?" And well, the way she smiles now actually looks impressed. "Fine. I guess you don't just wanna get into my panties, whatever. Kinda sweet of you."

Ani's gaze drops to the ground again, and she kicks at a pebble with the toe of her pleaser. She chews on her bottom lip as she thinks about what you said. You're right, of course, she's got those cute little fuckers lined up on her shelf because they make her smile each afternoon when she's fixing up her hair tinsel. The mystery boxes are a little thrill she gives herself, a silly hobby that makes her feel like a kid again. Cause she grew up too fast.

"Well, so what?" Ani says, but her voice lacks its usual bite. She wants to stand her ground, but she's unconvinced. Noticing things like that is nice, but doesn't explain how you could leave without warning, doesn't convince her that she's cared about for once. "That don't mean shit. You don't know the real me." She wraps her arms around herself tightly, feeling suddenly vulnerable. "No one does." Ani shakes her head, trying to dispel the thoughts racing through her mind.

Your fingertips linger on her skin, as she shifts her arm away, but at least she doesn't turn to go. "I want to," you tell her. "Give me a chance to try."

You must have sounded just genuine enough, because you feel the tell-tale sign of Anora melting into your touch. Accepting your presence. "Buy me an extra mystery box and we're even. And don't even think about ditching me again."

[thevoidstaredback]

Part 2

Danny had counted himself lucky that no one had been in the Manor when he'd arrived. It gave him time to stew in the silence about his unwilling occupation of the apartment sized room he'd be staying in. As soon as Alfred and Damian had left earlier with a threat to come and get him for dinner, he'd locked the door and pushed the dresser and bed in front of it.

Just because he was stuck there for the next three months didn't mean he had to interact with anyone. He'd live up to his half status as a ghost and be nothing more than a passing thought for the whole summer.

Now if only everyone else had gotten the memo to stay away.

Apparently, at some point between his arrival and where he now finds himself, Damian and/or Alfred had announced to the rest of the household - former and current - who Danny was and that he'd be staying with them. Luckily, they'd been so kind as to give him a room far away from the others. Unfortunately, that meant that he was only a floor above them all.

Someone had tried to open his door barely and hour ago, calling to be let in so he could introduce himself. Danny ignored him, not saying a word. Eventually, the guy left. About ten minutes later, someone else tried to get in through one of the windows. Danny hadn't been able to do much more than lock those and close the blinds. Though, he had to admit that Bruce Wayne spared nothing on his home security.

Ever since, he'd had several people come to his door, calling for him to open it, that they just wanted to say 'hi'. He studiously ignored all of them, even going so far as to lock himself in the walk-in closet. It wasn't too big a space, thank god, but it was just enough for him to comfortably curl into the fetal position in the back corner of the top shelf.

Being a clone gave him the advantage of having the same memories as whoever he'd been cloned from. While that didn't extend to muscle memory, that had been easy to rectify, Deathstroke and Talia had both made sure of that.

Being half dead gave him the extra advantage of powers to hide better.

Ever wonder why, in the stories and myths, people are almost never able to see a ghost by looking head on? It's because ghosts don't like to be seen. They use a mix of intangibility and partial invisibility to redirect attention from themselves. Rattling chains, opening and closing doors, pushing things off shelves, that's all just to get attention away from them so they can hide.

So, Danny's hidden himself in the farthest corner on the top shelf in a medium sized closet with the lights off and the door closed. The room proper has the windows locked and covered, the door locked and blocked.

He doesn't need to eat, so long as he stays a ghost. And if he doesn't consume anything, then there's no waste for his body to get rid of. And, because he's comfortable, he could totally just sleep the entire summer away.

That is, if he can get himself to relax enough to actually close his eyes for more than a blink.

One of the windows shattered, likely spreading glass all over the floor.

"Danny?" While all the others had been male voices, this one was female. A smooth alto. "I broke your window."

He almost snorted. How very observant of this person.

They, because he wasn't going to assume based solely off of how their voice sounds, were getting close to the closet. "That's a good hiding place you have there. Though, blocking the door was a bit much. Why'd you stick around if you so obviously don't want to be here?"

Because he'd rather not have the League of Assassins on his trail for leaving his 'vacation' early, thank you very much. He didn't say that, though.

The door cracked open. "Y'know, I used to hide in the closet in my room all the time. From what Dick tells me, so did the others." They giggled. "It's kinda like a rite of passage."

Danny cringed, though he didn't move. This was nice spot, no matter what Alto over there was implying.

The door opened fully, revealing the person who'd broken in. They had black hair cropped to their chin, a blue tank-top and black leggings. "My name's Cassandra, but you can call me 'Cass'," they said, "Can I come in?"

They weren't looking at him, but he shook his head anyway. They'd found him, so they could probably see through walls or some shit.

They closed the door, sitting on the floor with their back to it. "Damian told us that you're his brother-"

"He is not my brother," he hissed, "Not in the way they want us to be."

Cassandra leaned her head against the door, looking up but not at him. "Hm. Want to explain?"

He didn't speak.

"Okay. You don't have to." A pause. "Do you want something to eat?"

"Piss off," he growled.

"Okay, okay," their tone aggravated him. Why weren't they getting angry? They didn't leave.

Danny settled deeper into the corner. He'd spent way to long waiting to be beaten at a contest in stall tactics.

Though, even he knew when to recognize a good competition. This was going to be a long night.

Part 4

[cheralith]

feat. karasu, otoya, yukimiya cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, is implied to have smaller hands, smoking, roommates au, implied aged-up characters (20s)

hi here are some more a345!tabieitaken roommates au headcanons, this time they involve more of reader :] part one here, part two here

karasu

during the warmer weather, when you and him make a habit of going to the farmer's market, there's an elderly shopkeeper that sells some peaches who had once complimented on how lovely of a couple you and him are, that you remind her of her and her late husband. feeling awkward and guilt-ridden, not having the heart to break it to her that you guys weren't actually a couple, you both laugh nervously and thank her. from then on, she gives you and karasu free peaches whenever she sees you both together and you have to pretend that you are for that fleeting moment you and him are a young couple in love within her presence.

even when he's just at home, he often still waxes his hair. he eventually lets it down and breathe properly for the weekends when you had one time smiled and complimented how nice he looks with his natural hair.

a smoker but only when he gets stressed. he tried to hide it from you when you first moved in, ashamed of his coping method, but you had told him you indulged in one or two as well from time to time since your work often put you in stressful scenarios as well. does the cigarette kiss with you when you and him smoke on the balcony together.

speaking of which, you indirectly kiss him the most. you use the same spoon he'll use when he offers you a bite of his food, drink from the same shotglass, and use the same chopsticks that he'll use to gently place food in your mouth.

when you and him open up to each other more, he enjoys hearing you talk; your voice is soothing to him (as it's canon that he has a voice fetish). sometimes may ask you to read to him if you're just lounging around and catching up on a book.

(per last hc post) he tries to teach you bass one time, but you make him nervous just by standing so close to him that he barely survives the first lesson when he has to stay behind you and help move your hands accordingly. he tries so hard not to notice how smaller your fingers are in comparison to his.

you always buy a jar of kimchi for him when you're out grocery shopping, something that he appreciates very much so as he often eats rice and whatever meal he has with kimchi.

yukimiya

loves to cook with you. he always sends you some recipe he saw online and asking if you'd like to try it out. all you'd have to do is respond yes and wow magically the ingredients have appeared before you in the loft... he'd love an extra hand to help him with all of this perhaps 👀

you are the only person that he'll ever let borrow his clothes when he found you struggling to piece together an outfit one time. had said to you that you can pick out whatever you like from his closet if you so wanted to and when you do, he feels this weird sense of ... pride? seeing you in his clothes just makes him feel giddy, knowing that your fashion senses often correlate with each other.

however, he is also not afraid to be honest and tell you upfront that your outfit may just not be right for the day if he thinks so. but you appreciate this—his honesty is refreshing.

sometimes visits you in the office if he has an upcoming shoot that he has to go to his agency's headquarters for, where you work. maybe will drop off a lunch or a coffee/tea pick-me-up he got on the way. your co-workers often tease you for it, asking you if you're secretly dating one of the models to your embarrassment. ("that can land you an hr case, y'know," an intern had joked.)

the most modest out of the three, but there will be times when some of his skin shows and it's like seeing a victorian's ankle for the first time. especially in regards to his legs, when he wears shorts, there's just this hug that surrounds his thighs so securely that the muscles can sometimes be visible through the fabric.

often gets you a small, yet artfully arrayed bouquet of flowers from the local flower shop just because "he felt like it." always feels like such a delight for him when he finds them the morning after in a vase with flowers sitting somewhere in the apartment.

otoya

mentioned this in an earlier post, but he'll often curate some monthly-ish playlists for you with songs he think you'll take a liking to. helps you introduce yourself to more genres and more artists, though he's already quite impressed with how knowledgeable you are with music.

lets you borrow his good headphones—the one where the bass booms perfectly and the melodies sound more crisp to let you fully enjoy the music.

when you first came to the loft, wow did he try his hardest to impress you. walked around shirtless even in cold weather and would try to subtly flex his muscles. often would help you grab things that were above you even if you could easily reach it ("let me help you with that, babe." "go put five bucks in the douchebag jar.")

second-best dressed next to yukki. often will post a fit check on his insta and if you're ever around, he'll insist on capturing his photo with you in it. it both serves as him flexing he has a cute girl by his side and may just boil the jealousies of his side chicks. he won't tag you though, aware of the other people that may ask who you are if they slide up (also because he likes the attention to be on him)

touchy. likes to put his head in your lap during movie nights so you can play with his hair (he uses men's 5-in-1 shampoo, how the hell is it so soft and healthy?!) or will "accidentally" lean against you on the couch if he's really zoning in on some video games.

gets a bit upset when you befriend his hook-ups. he'll sometimes wake up to you and whatever girl he had the night prior chatting and laughing about at the table as if you've been best friends for forever and can't help but feel disappointment for whatever reason.

a/n: @okkotsuus for u my dearest 💐!

[romanticinlove]

misunderstanding

Summary: When Jude is banned because of his celebration, his anger gets the best of him

word count: 1k

Warnings: Angst

___________________________________

During the game against Slovakia, England was putting up a good fight. When the other team scores, it went unanswered for so long. As you watched the game from the stands, you felt very anxious. Your boyfriend, Jude, was playing and you knew he had a lot of pressure of him during this game. You were wondering how he was dealing with the weight of the game, and you worried for him. When the game clock showed the 90th minute, you could only hope that enough time was added for England to make a comeback. When England finally scored, it was Jude who scored. You jumped up in the stand celebrating along the other fans. You could not have been more proud of your boyfriend. It was only when you looked down at the pitch that you saw how Jude decided to celebrate. You didn't think much of it, other players had done this celebration many times before. Sure, you thought it might've been a bit crude but he was just celebrating, you couldn't blame him. When the game came to a close, you were celebrating, Harry Kane scored a goal in extra time that secured the win for England. When you went down to see Jude, you were so proud of him and could not wait to see him. When he left the locker room, you could see that he was upset about something.

"hey baby, I am so proud of you! You played amazingly tonight, I knew you would be the one to put us ahead" You said and went to kiss his cheek, but he simply turned his head. You were confused and continued "Is everything ok?"

"Can we just go?" Jude said, while he couldn't even look you in the eye. You were a bit hurt because of the way he was acting but decided to leave him cool off before trying to talk to him again. As you drove the both of you home, you would occasionally look over at Jude, who only looked out of the window. You dropped Jude off at the facility where the teams were staying. When he went to leave the car, you tried to talk to him again.

"Ok well I'll call you tonight ok? " You said to him hopeful that he would at least give you something.

"I can't call tonight" he said before opening the door, but before he could get off, you began again.

"That's ok, I'll talk to you later then. I love you"

"You too." Jude said and then he shut the door and walked off. You sat in the car for a couple of minutes, shocked at his behavior. The both of you always said I love you to one another. It sounded so stupid and cheesy, but it did hurt you. You began to drive to the hotel where you were staying. Before, the distance would've killed the both of you, but maybe now it was necessary. You tried to think about every possible thing that could've set him off. When you couldn't think of anything, you tried to brush it off. When you arrived at the hotel, you got ready for bed. Just when you were about to go to bed, you decided to text Jude.

you: Hey Jude, I don't know what happened tonight, but I just wanted to let you know that I am very proud of you, you did great. I love you, please text me back <3

Read at 10:47

When you woke up and saw that he left you on read, you got a bit upset. You genuinely had no idea what happened and you thought maybe it had something to do with you. You decided to try and text his teammate, Trent, and see if maybe he knew something.

You: hey Trent, Do you know what's wrong with Jude???

Trent: did he not tell you?

You: apparently not

trent: Y'know his celebration yesterday? He got a €30,000 fine, and a ban

you: are you serious??

Trent: unfortunately

You were very upset and immediately called Jude.

"Jude why didn't you tell me about the fine and ban??" you said as soon as he answered the phone

"Who told you about that?"

"it doesn't matter, why didn't you?"

"y/n I don't have to tell you every little thing that happens, stuff just happens"

"Not every little thing, but yeah things like that are important, especially when you get disrespectful with me"

"you still haven't answered my question"

"I told you it doesn't matter"

"who did you ask?" Jude said as he began to raise his voice a little. He was met with silence and then he spoke up again. "y/n, who told you about that?"

"I asked one of your teammates"

"Oh so instead of going to me, you go to another guy? How is that right?" Jude said in an accusatory tone. You didn't like what he was implying.

"What are you trying to say right now, you think I would cheat on you?"

"why did you have to go behind my back?"

"You were being cold and unresponsive, I was worried" you said. Jude scoffed not he other end and you began to get teary eyed "we're not accomplishing anything right now, ok. I will call you later when we're both a bit more calm."

"Yeah sure, maybe you can call my teammate and tell him about this" he said before hanging up the phone. You sat indoor hotel room, dumbfounded by this argument. How could he think that about you? You were beyond angry, but you couldn't think about why you were crying right then and there. But maybe he was right, maybe you should've texted Trent, maybe you should've waited for him to be ready. As all of these maybe's went though your head you got a text.

Jude: Honestly, I don't know what to do right now, I need space, I can't be focused on this and the euros, soju please leave me alone right now

you: Jude I will respect you space but please know that I would never do that to you, I promise

Jude: Ok

You: I love you

Read at 12:26

________________________________

a/n: This was my first attempt at angst so pls lmk what you think!!

[lomlhwa]

y'know what they say about guitarists (c.s)

pairing: guitarist!san x vocalist!reader

preview: san has watched you flirt with entire crowds. he just wants some of that attention too.

tags/warnings: fem reader, mentions of drummer!mingi, bassist!yunho and stage manager!seonghwa, ONE BED TROPE WHO CHEERED, possessive san, spit play, pet names (good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl), praise, pussy drunk san, dacryphilia, lots of hickeys, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, cockwarming

trigger warnings: n/a

w/c: 2.0k

song recs for this fic: any chase atlantic tbh (slow down, swim, heaven and back)

a/n: this lovely fic is dedicated to @kitten4sannie to celebrate my return to writing! i hope you like this ml!

as you’re onstage playing a gig for a couple thousand people, you feel like you’re in your element. nothing feels better than being onstage with your bandmates. your hips sway to the music coming from the musicians sharing the stage with you.

you give playful winks and body rolls to the fans in the front row. something that always catches your guitarists eye. though, his rhythm never falters. 

jealousy always courses through him. he wants to receive those playful gestures from you. you even wink at mingi, your drummer from time to time. the beloved bassist, yunho, receives the most of your onstage affection. hugs, cheek kisses, etc. makes the male fans jealous. makes san’s blood boil. 

your angelic voice rings through the in-ear monitors that each band member wears. it sends shivers down san’s spine. so talented and so incredibly beautiful.

as your gig ends, you giggle and thank the fans who attended. “thank you guys so much for coming! i love you! we’ll see you next time!” you bow and flounce your way backstage in your cute outfit. your band members follow suit, bowing and running backstage.

“thank was great guys! well done,” you stage manager says. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and smile. “thanks hwa.” you let go of him and turn to yunho. “yuyu, your guitar playing was extra good today!” you exclaim, smiling so brightly that the sun might have competition. you peck his cheek before running off to your stylist to get changed.

san’s shoulders slump, knowing that he won’t receive those small actions of affection from you. “feeling left out, sannie?” mingi asks, towering over the smaller guitarist. san nods, not bothering to look up at mingi. 

“why don’t you just talk to her? there’s gotta be a reason she’s reserved around you,” yunho points out from across the room. his makeup artist is hunched over him, removing his makeup ever so carefully. 

“talk to who about what?” you say, suddenly coming out of your dressing room. you’re beautiful even now; no makeup and in your pajamas. “no one. nothing,” san blurts out. fuck. he’s so stupid. “okay,” you smile, sipping your water through a straw. 

“you guys ready to go back to the hotel?” you ask and the other three members nod in unison. you grab your bag and head for the door. “san’s rooming with you tonight, y/n.” you look back at yunho with wide eyes. “oh! um, okay.” you give san a confused look before heading out the door.  

san flips yunho off before following you out the door. you all pile into the company van and sit in comfortable silence as you head to the hotel. you file out of the van when you pull up, security making sure no fans get to you. you scurry into the building and do your best to sneak into your hotel rooms. you sigh dramatically as you get the door shut. 

you turn around to find san staring at your hotel room in horror. “what’s the probl-” you cut yourself off when you find that your room only has one queen sized bed. “shit,” you mutter. you drop your bag on the floor before you whip your phone out and dial seonghwa’s number. 

“hwa, what the actual fuck? one bed?” san can hear seonghwa trying to explain. he picks up pieces of the conversation. something about this being all that was left when he was booking. something else about telling you to suck it up. you mutter some insults before hanging up on seonghwa.

“i can just sleep on the floor, it’s fine y/n,” san drops his bag on the floor and sits down on the ground next to the bed. “no, san, we can share the bed. we’re touring. i don’t want your limbs to ache,” you shake your head as you climb into the bed. you pat the space next to you and he clambers onto the mattress. 

after a couple hours, you’re both laying on your backs in the dark, in silence. “hey y/n?” san says, finally breaking the silence. you give him a soft hum in response. “can i ask you about something that’s been bothering me?” he asks. you hum again.

“why don’t you give me the same attention you give mingi, yunho and seonghwa? no hugs, no pecks, nothing. you’ll skip over me just to give the ones beside me those things. why? did i do something to make you uncomfortable? or scared to do those things for me?” san can feel you tense up next to him. he wonders why that’s how you reacted. 

“cause…” you trail off. san can see the outline of you sit up in the dark. “cause i have a crush on you. if i gave you that affection, i would never survive. if i gave you a single hug, i would never let go. if i kissed your cheek, i would never be able to keep it from turning into a real kiss,” the confession hangs in the air like a spiderweb. he sits up, like you did. “why didn’t you tell me?” san asks. you sigh and shrug, despite the fact that he can barely see you.

“i didn’t wanna ruin the band dynamic. i didn’t wanna risk you not reciprocating and making things awkward between us. i was just scared that-” san pulls your head back so he can meet your lips with his. it’s swift, but it’s enough to make you sputter in shock.

“i’ve liked you since we even started this band, sweet girl.” despite being in the dark, he maneuvers you onto your back and hovers over you. his cologne envelops you and you shiver. 

“can i…. kiss you again?” san asks tentatively. he ghosts his fingers over your ribcage, making you squirm. “yes, please, san,” you respond. with your permission, he connects your lips in a surprisingly soft kiss. he lips melt with yours, finding a slow pace. his tongue drags over your bottom lip, asking for your plump lips to part.

your warm mouth welcomes san’s tongue as it pokes and prods at your inner cheek and fights with your own tongue. your hips grind up into his, searching for friction. he groans against your lips and it sounds more beautiful than any sound that’s ever come out of his guitar. 

his hands gravitate towards your hips to hold them down, keeping you from grinding anymore. “we can’t…” san whispers. “they’ll hear us.” you shake your head and pull him back down to you, kissing him more feverishly. “fuck… you make it so hard to resist you.” you whine against his lips, fighting his weight holding your hips down. “please, i need you.”

you can feel a moment of hesitation from him before he just lets himself relax into you. his hands leave your hips and you immediately grind up. his jaw falls open and you shudder at the sound that comes out of him again. 

you grab his hand and drag it under your shirt, wrapping his hand around your breast. your spine arches as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. “sannie-” your breath gets caught in your throat when his mouth moves to your neck and he nibbles on your skin lightly. 

“fuck, i can’t wait. let me undress you, sweet girl,” san begs you, his voice low and desperate. you tangle your fingers in his hair and nod as well as you can. his hand leaves your breast and helps his other hand to lift your shirt off you. you lift your torso up to allow for it to come off you completely. he wastes no time in allowing his own shirt to follow suit. your hands run down his chest to his abs, pressing against the muscle lightly. his hands undo the drawstrings on your sleep shorts, sliding your shorts and underwear down together. 

“off,” you mumble, clawing at his plaid pajama pants. he giggles and slides his pants down, discarding them with the rest of the clothes. he runs his hands over your bare thighs, spreading your legs gently. san’s hands run up and down your skin as he leans back down to kiss you. “condom?” he whispers and you shake your head. “no, wanna feel you.” 

san continues to kiss you as one of his hands moves down to his cock, stroking it a few times. he lines the tip up with your hole and sucks in a deep breath. he presses your thighs apart as he shoves his cock inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt. your hips stutter as your walls flutter around him. 

your jaw falls slack and san finds purchase in kissing your jawline and your throat. he pulls out to the tip before slamming back into you and you slam your hand over your mouth to keep from crying out. 

san lifts himself onto his palms to trap you between his arms. “you know what, sweet girl?” he says between thrusts, “you’re fucking mine. you hear me? mine,” his lips are right next to your ear, whispering these words into your brain. “you belong to me,” he grabs your face and forces you to face him.

“your lips? mine,” he kisses you roughly before pulling away again. “your pretty tits? mine,” he leans down to kiss your skin, leaving dark marks in the wake of his lips. “your pretty little pussy? it’s fucking mine,” san speeds up his thrusts to prove his point. your back arches and his tip jabs at the perfect gummy spot inside you. 

“fuck, you’re such a good girl. your pussy is so fucking good. so wet, so warm. you take me so fucking perfectly. my pretty girl. open your mouth for me,” you open your mouth immediately and he leans down to spit in your mouth. “swallow.” your jaw snaps shut to swallow his saliva. 

as your orgasm builds up, tears spring into your eyes. your chest heaves with tight sobs of just how fucking good it feels. “are you crying? does it feel that good, sweet girl?” you wipe your tears away messily, embarrassed that you’re even crying.

wiping your tears was pointless because when his thrusts speed up again, new tears fall immediately. “fuck, oh my god san that feels so fucking good,” you cry out, a little bit too loud. your thighs spasm as you try to close them, but san’s hips between your legs keep you wide open. 

“i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, please,” your hands claw as san’s biceps, your climax being right there. “me too. where do you want it, pretty girl?” he asks, his hips becoming more and more feverish. “inside, fuck, cum inside me.” san bites his bottom lip as his thrusts become sloppier.

you wrap your arms around his torso and bring him down to you so you can dig your nails into his back. he rests his body weight on his elbows and you clench around him. “cumming,” you whisper as your back arches for a final time before stuttering back down. the intensity of your walls gushing around him finally sends san over the edge. 

the two of you just lay there completely still as ropes of cum fill up your abused hole. your legs wrap around his hips so that he won’t pull out before you want him to. “you’re so perfect. you’re so beautiful, so pretty when you cum,” he strokes your hair as he whispers in your ear again. 

“let me pull out so you can go to the bathroom and then we can sleep, okay?” you shake your head. “no. no. stay. roll over so i’m on top. lemme sleep with you inside. please. please, sannie,” you begging goes right to his head and he does exactly as you asked. with you situated on top of him, cock still inside, he pulls the blanket over the two of you. “we have to get up early to shower though, okay?” you nod.

_____________

“good morning love bugs. your throat gonna be okay to sing tonight?” yunho smirks at you and you smack san. “hey! i was the one who said they were gonna hear us!” he cries out. “at least you finally fucked,” mingi comments. 

“yeah, real fuckin good,” seonghwa comments, looking exhausted. he was in the room right next to yours. he shakes his head. “i’m sorry hwa.”

“get in the fucking van.”

© lomlhwa 2024

[blusherbaker]

Some extra thoughts about the Octavinelle boys' kinks

Minors/ageless blogs DNI; all characters are 18+ for these scenarios

I'm back with few more ideas I had, expanding on this post of mine

Warnings: Smut, 2nd person and 3rd person neutral pronouns, discussion/mention of multiple kinks of different varieties, including those related to D/s dynamics, feeding and stuffing, lactation, etc.

It is somewhat dependent on how he feels at the time, but Azul usually finds bondage to be incredibly soothing. The sensation is comforting, and it gives him a sense of security and safety, especially since there is so much trust involved. He’d be likely to even give mummification a try at some point, and would almost definitely like it. (He finds it cozy/safe, as well as arousing.)

I'm 95% sure that the Leech twins would like something to do with feeding and/or stuffing. They both (canonically!) have a focus on feeding others, and watching others eat - especially Floyd - and Jade often talks about eating, and/or is shown eating huge quantities of food. It’s a little wild, actually! Chances are, Floyd prefers to feed his partner, whereas Jade prefers being fed (though he also enjoys feeding too), and it seems likely to me that Floyd would be more interested in feeding, whereas Jade would be more interested in stuffing. 

I'm certain that Jade likes seeing people cry. He'd find it not only amusing, but in the right situation, incredibly arousing as well. It wouldn't matter if his partner was a "pretty" or "ugly" crier, just watching them break down sobbing from emotion or sensation - seeing the effect he has on them - would excite him greatly. And if the tears were accompanied by babbling or begging? Jade would be in heaven. 

Floyd's lactation kink is mostly in the realm of interest / curiosity, rather than pure desire. While all three of these men don't have nipples in their original forms (since they're... y'know, not mammals), I think Floyd stumbled upon the concept of lactation, and simply found it to be especially fascinating. Like… people just make milk? And it's technically possible for anyone to do it? He finds the thought pretty hot, and would love to experience it in some form or another at some point. Whether that’s working towards you lactating, or possibly even inducing it in himself, Floyd may end up quite interested in this kink for a period of time!

I'd love to hear your thoughts / opinions on this, or anything in the original post ^v^

[seliasvault]

The Supermarket

this started off as a continuation for the gym!simon fic but it just became it's own thing

supermarket!simon x reader, cw: stalking, dark simon riley

Part one

1 │2 │3

Simon Riley hasn't experienced kindness, so when you show him some, he goes a little crazy.

Grocery shopping is either the funnest thing in the world or the biggest pain in the ass. And right now you're feeling it's the latter.

After a long day of work, walking around a crowded, loud store was not your ideal night. But having no-anything and little to no money, forced you off your spot on the couch, leaving it and your unfinished show behind.

You've survived, barely, trotting the shopping cart, leaning your full body weight onto it for support, eyes half closed as you wait in the checkout line. The day you’re most drained had to, of course, be the busiest day this grocery store's seen.

As you mindlessly scroll through your phone, a sudden sharp pain surges through your back, you’ve been, of course, been crashed into by the cart behind you. Letting out a breath of surprise you turn to face the culprit.

Face still twisted in pain, you see a boy, around 10, with not an ounce of remorse on his face. A little annoyed you turn back, and not a minute later you're interrupted by a man, presumably his father. He makes an excuse, profusely apologizing, and so you, of course, accept the apology, give your classic,

"Don't worry about it! It happens!" and what tries to be a genuine smile but miserably fails.

Exasperated, your head is now seated between both your arms as you wait impatiently for your turn.

When you eventually near cash, another thing seems to be against you. The man in front of you, of course, seems to have forgotten his wallet.

You take a quick peek at the total, 115$, a steep number, one that you don't think you could afford, but the line won't move if he doesn't find a way to pay, and the nice thing to do is cover it.

So you chime in,

"Hey, y'know what it's okay I got it," You give him a soft smile, reassuring him that really it's no trouble. Sure you’ll have to skimp on next week's groceries, but a good deed's a good deed, you suppose.

He doesn’t move, like he hasn’t heard you It isn’t until you make your way to the machine does he finally speak.

“S’alright, don’t need them anyway.” He goes to leave.

“No really, it’s no problem,” click, you move fast, the money's gone through, not much he can say now. All you can hope for is he takes the food, and leaves so you can crawl back to your couch.

He turns around, looking at you, albeit a little weirdly, you can only see his eyes, the other half of his face covered with what looks to be a mask, the ones that wrap around your neck.

You pay no mind, averting your eyes to look at your cart, on any other day you might be more pleasant, smiling, maybe even small talk.

But the day seems to just get longer and longer, and he stares for another beat, a soft, “Thank you.” follows. Which is slightly surprising for such an intimidating man.

He picks up the bags, all five in one hand, you stare a little too long at the hand that holds them, before snapping back to reply.

“No problem, have a good night.”

Was his response a little lackluster? Considering you really can’t afford anything else for the month, yes, but who knows maybe it made his day, you shut yourself down before you overthink the whole thing.

Finally, your turn you finish everything up, and your total's 95$, again more than you can afford, and so you put back the homemade burger buns, bread’ll have to do, and that pasta sauce is given back too, along with some extra produce.

You’re total comes up 55$, a number you feel a little more comfortable committing to, you're handed the bags, and you leave.

You take them out to your car, putting them in securely, and head home.

After you’re home, seated on the couch, laptop atop your lap, mindlessly scrolling through various shopping sites, do you receive a call.

Your phone rings often, at least twice a week with a number you’ve never seen and an area code far from where you are, chalking it up to a scam call every time you’ve never answered, this time no different.

You take a quick glance at the phone next to you, not recognizing the number you go back to the pair of red shoes that were on sale for a dangerously good deal.

Your phone rings again, a little weirder this time as scammers tend to call once and move on, but on the off chance it’s not a scam, you're sure they’ll leave a voicemail or a message.

A ding is what furthers your confusion, and the message itself is what chills your bones.

“It’d be in your best interest to answer that.” 

Was it highly unusual? Sure, we’re you a little scared? Yes, but then again it could always be a wrong number. You had recently changed phone plans, and your number changing with it so really it’s a simple explanation, you do however feel bad for whoever that was meant for.

Your phone rings again, worrying you further but you leave it, if whoever texts again, you’ll respond. Just to put an end to the dings.

“Don’t make me ask again.” 

A little intimidated by now, your mind starts to jump to conclusions, you haven't met anyone new, and haven't given your number to anyone recently.

You text back.

“i think you have the wrong number”

“Last I checked, this was the pretty bird from the supermarket.” 

You swear your heart stills, before coming back to life, beating tenfold.

This could very well still be a wrong number, everyone goes to the store, just because you did today doesn’t make you special, probably some guy trying to chat up a cashier.

“sorry, i really do think you have the wrong number” 

Your mind flickers through the number of possibilities, it could be a prank, one of your friends trying to scare you. Though, this wasn't the kind of prank they'd pull.

“You sure?” 

“yes???” 

“Then why can I see you texting? I think you should get those, red suits you.” 

Your head whips around to the window your sofa's seated next to, no one's out there, it’s not possible, you live in an apartment building, 20 floors above ground. The only way he could see you was if…

“who is this” 

Sure it’s cliche but it’s all you can manage, all that comes into your anxiety-riddled mind. You're suddenly aware of every noise and every shadow in your living room.

“You know who it is.” 

“i really don't buddy, just answer the question” 

“I think the better question is how got inside, check your kitchen.” 

You feel like you've been doused with ice water, heart beating so loud it's the only thing you can hear. The thought of getting up to investigate, when he's more than likely to be inside. You guess you waited too long contemplating because you hear another ding sound from your phone.

“Check your kitchen, don’t make me make you sweetheart.” 

Your heart skips, slowly you stand, slow steps moving toward the kitchen, your eyes scanning for any movement, anything, ears on high alert for the drop of a pin.

When you finally make it around to the kitchen, you're eyes once again scan the corners, the pantry, and then they fall on the counter.

Sat atop are four bills, four hundred dollar bills, alongside a note.

It then finally clicks into your head, the man in front of you in the line.

Surprisingly neat writing,

Had to pay you back,

See you soon.

Eight words scrawled onto a page. Your mind is overwhelmed with the questions flying through, pay you back with four hundred dollars? See you soon?

You grasp at your phone, rushing to text him, to gain some answers, maybe even report him to the police. Pulling open your messages, the text threads disappeared, along with his number from your call history.

You're left even more confused, did he have access to your phone? When was he in the apartment? Was he still here? If he wasn't how could he see you?

Anxiety overwhelms you, as you stare at the large sum of money and the only trace of him on your kitchen counter. 

[o-sachi]

─── A Letter for @strawchocoberry ✦

If you have received this, it means you signed up for Sachi's Selfship Event !

Thank you for requesting, ml. Thank you for hyping me up and the silly stuff that I write. YOU ARE THE BEST! I love you and your amazing brain. Mindy lore goes hard by the way. My ship. I hope I do your ship justice mehehe.

✉️ Attachment: ABCs with Michael Kaiser

[C] Comfort Honestly, he's a bit lost with how to comfort you at first. But he knows first hand how it feels to be down and not have someone there to support him. So he does his best; he asks you what you want and what you need. If you want space, an ear to listen, or comforting words; Mihya will try his hardest to give you exactly that. Although, most of the time he'll comfort you through physical touch rather than words. Oh, and he leaves a lot of surprise gifts for you to find so that he can see that smile on your face again.

[D] Dates He takes you out on dates as if it's always your first; Mihya always strives to impress you after all. One for theatrics, he usually takes you out on fancy dinner dates or shopping sprees. But if you insist on a more "toned down" kind of date, he won't mind either. BUT, he will always find a way to spice it up. Movie date? He has a big ass projector rented for the two of you. That or maybe he takes you to one of those drive thru movie screenings (the old fashioned kind). He will ALWAYS give you princess treatment.

[G] Gifts Like I said, one of his love languages is gift giving. He was definitely deprived of this kind of love as a child, so he makes sure you'd never feel the same as he did when he was younger. He has the thinking of, "money can be earned again," so he's not shy about splurging on you. He also likes receiving things from you—doesn't matter if it's a small or huge gift. Mihya only cares that it came from you and you thought about it with him in mind. A gift he has given you before is a shiny golden locket with a picture of a blue rose inside. And a gift he likes receiving from you are the baked goods that you make every week. He finds it extra thoughtful.

[I] Intimacy You form a deeper connection because he finds himself drawn to your genuine personality. He was fully expecting you to fall for him at first because he was a famous football star and he had good looks. So imagine his surprise when he found out that you weren't that simple. You may have fallen first, but he fell harder. And it was all thanks to the support and presence you had in his life. You were the thing he never knew he needed. However, he's quite aggressive with romance—wanting everything to be fast paced. But that's mostly because he feels safe and secure with you. He's just that sure of you.

[J] Jealousy Normally he'd be on high alert if he knows someone is trying to get into his territory. But you've reassured him enough to a point that he feels fine most of the time. Just don't do it on purpose or tease him about it because he'll begin to overthink (poor guy). But if he does get jealous, he's the type to confront the other person directly. There is no beating the bush with this man, especially when it comes to you. Although, I feel like you'd be the more jealous one with the relationship... y'know, having to deal with the massive Kaiser fan club. But he tells you time and time again that you're the only one for him.

[N] Nicknames So shameless that he calls you darling and sweetheart right off the bat. Even when you were doing your research on him and his team—he'd call you those names behind the scenes. It pissed you off at first, honestly. But as you two got into a relationship and things got serious, Mihya started calling you petnames in German like Schatz and Liebe. To him, those feel more meaningful, thus you deserve them. He doesn't mind any name that you call him... just don't call him by his actual name or he'll start pouting.

[T] Time Apart You think that you have it worse because, of course, he's always the one away for football, right? He'll even tease you about being so "clingy" whenever you'd hop on a call together. But, deep down, he is suffering more than you are. He'll try to laugh it off though. Mihya also buys you plushies that you can have on your bed. He says it might help you remind you of him (he also spritzes a bit of his cologne on them before giving it to you because he's sneaky like that). He'll definitely send you a shit ton of pictures of him and the places he has been going to. Be sure to send some back or else he will bug you for them!

[W] Wildcard He actually likes listening to you yap about whatever it is you're currently reading or writing at the moment. He'll look at you the entire time and nod along. You know he's actually listening because he asks questions. Random thought, but you two have definitely done the ribbon-bicep trend before.

[X] XOXO I feel like he enjoys reading in his free time hence the reading glasses. Sometimes, when you're settled in and reading something, he'll sit down beside you and read along with his own book. You two just sit there together—appreciating each other's presence silently. Yeah, he has started reading A LOT more because of this. He really just wants you to feel that he's into the things you're into.

[Y] Yin & Yang You two are kind of opposites? Like I said, he's very aggressive when it comes to love while you're softer and more gentle. But it works out because you balance each other—leading the relationship at a moderate pace. However, you complement each other based on your "maintenance." You like getting princess treatment and he would happily fulfill that for you. But you also like to give the same energy back. And for Mihya, someone who has lived for most of his life with below the bare minimum, your love was something that blew him away. That's what got him hooked on you tbh.

Thank you for participating. I hope you like it :3

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o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[pendularium]

jfj's brittania costume is genuinely so well done, because it gets across where & who he is, y'know. The Dress itself is pretty clearly linked to vulnerability, specifically physical vulnerability (1), as it's then that the scurvy reveal happens, and this vulnerability is not just something that will be an issue, especially when facing down the prospect of walking with the injuries he already has, but it's also something, that as we see in the show, arguably removes what signifiers of rank he has - it's the sick who are carried in the boats, together. So then, brittania and the carnivale: the carnivale is pretty solidly an expression of empire? As crozier puts it, it's a temple to all that they miss (2), and there is jfj as brittania & its orchestrator, bringing this slice of the empire to the arctic - when under threat, he turns to the protection that the british empire and his status within offers (3) - a security that is kinda fundamentally - not hollow - but flawed: carnivale is as much a temple of vanity as it is one of home, and the fact that it is burned (with des voeux (I think) quite literally dressed as an orientalist caricature) calls back to the chinese sniper story; the empire does offer some level of protection, but it is also what kills him. wow. I'm detecting some sort of theme or something. There is also the extra fun Gender layer to all this, which is that by going as brittania, the female performance is legitimised as an expression of patriotism, rather than treated as, in no small part, ironic demonstration.

(1) side note here, but of course there's also the fact you can argue jfj's bastard status is also a form of physical vulnerability - 'I'm not even english' (2) ok I know this has been said before, but the connection between religion/god and the empire the show draws is so interesting here: if you accept that home is also the empire, the choice specifically of temple is so interesting in a christian context for its pagan undertones right? home/the empire is a drive, and a distraction/a turning from the 'true' path - the empire has no place, and trying to force it in is what kills them (3) coming back to vanity! what is vanity if not his stories - 'like the shot that killed lord nelson' (thank you edward), his performance as brittania is part how he displays himself as belonging and as a celebrated part of the empire

this show is so good

[whipped-cheese]

Got caught trying to talk to the clown fish again.

Prompt: aquarium

Unedited version:

Bonus:

(click for quality)

Just me talking (rambling) hhh-

(Y/n working as a janitor at a large 'exotic animals aquarium' and is drawn to this specific fish at first arrival, later down into the night after the aquarium is closed, y/n comes upon the same fish again while cleaning and tries to talk/communicate with it in some way

but then the night security guard stumbled upon their weird ass c: ) that's why their blushing, because their kinda embarrassed about getting caught..first day on the job.. y'know.. talking to a fish-

Extra: ( later on down the line, fishy fren kinda gets the memo and draws on a little area if sand that's infront of the glass to communicate and y/n started fogging the glass and writing on it to communicate, sun doesn't understand words so they do little drawings instead)

(He's half blind on the side of his face that's white, that's why that eye is fazed out)

(the lil heart water bubble thingy is something he usually does for visitors :D he does shows and tricks for people when they walk up to his case, the clown fish must perform :] )

[thevoidstaredback]

Phase Two of the plan was set to take place during the next Wayne Gala. Meaning they had exactly four weeks to plan out every meticulous detail. It was going to be great.

Week One

Planning for a gala is never easy. Planning for a Wayne Gala is even harder. Invitations, as per social standard, must go out at least four weeks prior to the event, so the guest list was first priority. Tim was put in charge of this. He elected the help of Luke Fox.

"Dude, you are never going to believe what Bruce did."

Luke sighed. "I leave for one month- What'd B do?"

Tim grinned up at him. "We're pranking the Justice League."

A beat. "What?"

"We're pranking the Justice League."

"Okay... Why?" He asked. "Better question: How? Don't they already know who you all are?"

Tim shook his head, pulling up the security feed from Phase One to send to his pseudo uncle. "They have no idea who we are behind our masks. Better yet, they have no idea how many of us actually operate within the city."

"There's no way."

"Right? I was so sure that they'd know by now, y'know? Because Superman has memorized our heartbeats, and we've met him both in and out of costume; Wonder Woman's Wonder Woman, and she has the Lasso of Truth- though, I'm pretty sure there's a way around that if she ever did try and get our names that way."

"And you called me here because..?" Luke prompted.

"Right!" Tim opened a different tab on his tablet. "I need you to help me make a guest list for the next Wayne Gala."

"Isn't that like, months out?"

"Not anymore! We're throwing on in exactly four weeks, so this guest list needs to be made now so that invitations can go out yesterday."

Luke raised an eyebrow.

Tim met his gaze. "I said what I said. Will you help me or not?"

With another sigh, Luke relented. "Alright. You can fill me in on everything later- And I do mean everything. I want every detail. Also, why didn't you pull me into this before?"

"We weren't sure if you'd be in town for this, and you were gone during Phase One. Also, we didn't actually intend on Selina and Kate being in on this, either. Well, maybe Kate."

"You got Selina and Kate in on this before me?" He looked absolutely heartbroken. "Wow. I thought I was your favorite."

Tim shook his head. "I'm pulling you in now, aren't I? Now, c'mon, we've got work to do.

The hardest part about setting up a Guest List is knowing the relationships between everyone. Everyone will be amicable with each other no matter who was invited, especially at an event hosted by the Wayne Family, but distaste for present company will be made known.

For this particular gala, there will be a mix of upper and middle class attendees to cover the odd additions that are the members of the Justice League.

"What's our priority, Tim?"

"Guest list, seating arrangements, and interference."

"'Interference'?"

"Who's going to stand between people if families of hostile relations run into each other."

Luke shook his head. "Rich people."

"Luke," Tim said, "I hate to break it to you, but you're 'rich people'."

A gasp. "I am? Tim! How could you do this to me?"

"I'm sorry, man," he shook his head sadly, laying his hand gently on Luke's arm, "But it's not my fault. It was your parents."

"My parents?"

"A betrayal of the worst kind."

"How could they!" he sobbed.

Tim rubbed his back, "I know. There, there."

"Tim? Luke?" Kate asked, walking into the office Tim had commandeered. "What they hell are you two doing in here?"

The two look up, sharing a laugh. "Nothing, Kate."

She raised here eyebrow skeptically, "Uh-huh, sure. Do you have a guest list set yet? We need to get invites made up and sent out."

"Almost," Tim answered.

Luke shrugged. "I still don't understand why we can't just host an open event. It'll make it so much easier."

"And risk our identities being released to the public?" Kate said, "Not to mention the amount of rouges that'll get in."

"They'll try to get in anyway."

"Extra security," Tim mumbled, switching to the document that was shared between the family for planning, "Got it."

"No-" Luke turned back to him, "That is not what I said."

Kate laughed. "Get back to work, you two. I'll be back in a bit to print off the invitations."

"We can get away with sending the invited late because we're The Waynes," Tim muttered to himself, "but any later than a day and we're on cracked ice."

"Isn't the saying 'thin ice'?"

"Only if you don't wear a mask o cowl to fight crime at night."

"Touché."

Part 8 Part 10