knoepfl

[knoepfl]

Ngl this is what I want XD

Jokes on You, Doll

+ pairings. joker x f1reader

+ tags. hero reader, begginer hero reader actually, kinda comedy but not really ? bro idk what I am doing, I am new to this fandom fml

+ a/n. This was so fun to write, lmao. Let me know if you want more, because I can absolutely continue this chaotic mess. Joker being down bad for a hero? Absolutely hilarious. Thank you for reading my shit! Also, before you start reading, just so you know, I just started the dc comics so it might not be lore accurate :((

+ summary. You’re the newest hero in the Justice League, young, ambitious, and—let’s be real—blessed in the chest department. On your first real mission, you and the League confront the Joker. But instead of chaos and violence, you get something… way weirder. Joker sees you and immediately forgets about his grand scheme. He’s obsessed. And no one—not even you—knows what the hell is going on.

+ support me ✰ .ᐟ buy me a coffee I Instagram

The air was thick with tension. The Justice League had cornered the Joker in an abandoned warehouse—classic villain territory. You were standing between Batman and Wonder Woman, heart pounding, gripping the hilt of your weapon. This was your first big mission since joining the League, and damn, did you want to make an impression.

Joker, however, was lounging like he had all the time in the world. "Batsy, Batsy, Batsy," he drawled, swirling an imaginary glass of wine. "You always bring your little friends to our special moments. It's rude, you know? We never get alone time—"

Then his eyes landed on you.

He stopped mid-sentence. Stared. Blinked once. Then twice.

And suddenly, his manic grin stretched even wider.

"Well, hello there."

The shift in his tone sent a chill down your spine. Everyone else noticed it, too—Superman narrowed his eyes, Flash tilted his head, and Batman let out a subtle, almost weary sigh.

Joker, however, had completely tuned out the rest of the League. He took a step closer, head tilting as he scanned you up and down, lingering for just a second too long. His gloved hands clapped together with a sharp pop!

"Now, this is a surprise! A little hero I haven't met before?" His voice dropped to a purr. "And what a vision you are."

You blinked. "Uh… what?"

Even you were confused. You expected threats, laughter, maybe a monologue about chaos—not this.

"Oh, this is delicious," Joker went on, practically vibrating with excitement. "A new player in town, and nobody thought to introduce us? I'm offended." He placed a hand over his heart, mock-pouting.

The League collectively tensed as he took another step forward. Batman was about to intervene, but Joker only had eyes for you.

"Tell me, sweetheart," he mused, voice dripping with amusement. "Do you always look this good, or is this just a special occasion?"

Your brain short-circuited.

Wonder Woman scoffed. "Seriously?"

Superman looked at Batman. "Is he… flirting?"

Batman pinched the bridge of his nose. "Unfortunately."

Joker ignored all of them, eyes locked onto you like a cat that had just found its favorite toy. "Ohhh, I like you," he hummed. "Very much. And let me tell you, that doesn’t happen often! Do you believe in love at first sight? No? Well, I do now!"

You felt heat creep up your face. This was not how you expected things to go. "Uhh, I'm just here to stop you—"

"Stop me?" Joker interrupted, laughing. "Doll, I’d let you arrest me if it means we get to spend some quality time together!"

Flash let out a wheeze. "What is happening?"

Even the henchmen in the background looked confused, shifting awkwardly.

Joker clapped his hands again, practically buzzing with energy. "Oh, I must know everything about you! What's your name? What's your favorite color? Do you like—hmm, let’s say—spontaneous date nights filled with danger and mayhem? Because I know a place—"

Batman finally stepped in. "Joker."

"Shh, Batsy. I'm talking to the lady."

You felt all eyes on you as Joker grinned, leaning forward ever so slightly. "So… what do you say, sweetheart? Run away with me? Be my queen of crime?" His expression turned almost dreamy. "We’d make such a beautiful disaster together."

You opened your mouth. Then closed it. You had no idea what to say.

"...What the hell is happening right now?" Green Lantern muttered.

Even you weren’t sure. But one thing was clear—Joker had completely abandoned whatever evil scheme he originally had.

Because now?

His only goal was winning you over.

And that? That was possibly more dangerous than anything else.

[knoepfl]

A Dangerous Spark

Since so many wanted a Dottore fic,here it is! I actually wrote it before I made the opinion pull XD I hope you like it, I really enjoyed writing it. And on top of that I finally found out how to use dividers!

Characters:

• Il Dottore – A methodical and calculating Fatui harbinger, whose mind is as sharp as a blade. He is pragmatic, ruthless, and has been assigned to observe you. He expected your reckless behavior to be a liability, but instead, he finds himself intrigued by your chaotic brilliance. As a man who values order, your wild unpredictability is both an enigma and a source of fascination for him.

• (Y/N) – A chaotic, unpredictable force of nature within the Fatui. You are loud, wild, and live for the adrenaline of destruction and creation. Your antics have caused concern among your peers, but you’ve managed to defy expectations at every turn. You thrive in chaos, reveling in the madness that others would shy away from. But behind the madness, you possess a sharp intellect and a deep, unpredictable side that even Dottore can’t quite decipher.

Trigger Warnings:

• Violence: Intense combat and destruction in battle scenes.

• Psychological Manipulation: The power struggle between the two characters is subtle but ever-present, with one seeking control and the other defying expectations.

• Obsessive Behavior: Dottore’s growing obsession with you as he seeks to understand and control your chaos.

Masterlist

Words: 2619

--- The dim corridors of the Fatui stronghold hummed with hushed conversations, the air thick with the scent of metal, alchemical solutions, and the ever-present tension of controlled chaos. Agents moved in calculated precision, each a cog in the grand machine of the Tsaritsa’s will.

And then there was you.

Loud. Unhinged. A spectacle of unrestrained energy amidst the rigid conformity of your peers.

You weren’t just a new recruit; you were a force of nature. A walking, talking explosion waiting to happen, both figuratively and literally. From the moment you had been inducted into the ranks of the Fatui, your wild cackles had echoed through the halls, your erratic behavior raising more than just a few eyebrows.

None were more watchful than Il Dottore.

He had been ordered to monitor you, to observe and, if necessary, eliminate. A liability to the Fatui could not be tolerated, no matter how… fascinating. And fascinating you were.

From the corner of his crimson gaze, he studied you. He had expected recklessness, carelessness, a weakness for him to exploit—an excuse to slit your throat and be done with it.

But you were no fool.

Chaotic, yes. Loud, unpredictable, erratic—but not incompetent. No, you had a terrifying sort of brilliance. Your enthusiasm masked an undeniable skill, your mania balanced by a sharp instinct that kept you just shy of truly dangerous mistakes.

He observed you as you wove through the other Fatui soldiers, grinning ear to ear, a manic gleam in your eyes. The others gave you a wide berth, muttering behind your back, their disdain barely concealed. But you never seemed to care.

If anything, you reveled in it.

Fascinating.

You were different from the usual Fatui—so self-assured, so utterly unashamed of your own madness. Dottore had spent so long surrounded by the meticulous, the calculating, the obedient. But you were chaos in its purest form, a flickering flame in a world of ice.

It wasn’t until you caught him staring that things truly began to shift.

“You’re watching me again, Doctor.” Your voice rang through the hallway, amusement lacing your tone as you spun on your heel to face him.

Dottore didn’t flinch at the sudden confrontation, merely tilting his head as a slow smirk curled his lips. “And if I am?”

Your grin widened. “Enjoying the show?”

“More like monitoring a potential disaster.”

“Oooh, scary.” You stepped closer, too close, challenging him with your proximity, with the sheer wild energy crackling off you. “So? What have you concluded, dear doctor?”

He should have ignored you. Should have brushed past you like the insignificant speck of unpredictability you were.

But he didn’t.

“You are a spectacle,” he admitted, his voice smooth, laced with something unreadable. “A violent one. I’ve been debating whether it would be better to dissect you now or wait until you inevitably bring ruin upon yourself.”

You laughed, tilting your head, eyes gleaming with something that could only be described as insanity. “And? Have you decided?”

Dottore regarded you for a long moment. He had not decided. Not yet.

Because against all logic, against all expectations—

You were interesting.

The next few weeks were a game—a dangerous dance between you and Dottore. He monitored your every move, waiting for you to slip. You, in turn, made it a point to taunt him at every opportunity.

You’d find him lurking in the shadows, his sharp gaze dissecting you like a specimen under a microscope. And you would meet his gaze head-on, throwing a wicked grin his way before engaging in yet another reckless stunt. Explosive concoctions, daring missions, loud proclamations of your brilliance—every moment was another test of just how much chaos he would allow you to cause before stepping in.

And yet, he never did.

One night, you found yourself in his lab, wandering past rows of intricate machinery and bubbling vials filled with ominous liquids. He had allowed you inside—not out of trust, but out of curiosity. You examined everything with wide, fascinated eyes, your fingers itching to touch, to dismantle, to recreate.

“You have an artist’s soul, don’t you?” he murmured, watching as you studied a particularly complex device.

You snorted, tilting your head. “More like a pyromaniac’s. But I suppose they’re one and the same, really.”

Dottore let out a low chuckle, the sound dark and amused. “Indeed. Both obsessed with destruction and creation in equal measure.”

For once, silence settled between you, thick with something unspoken. You turned to face him fully, your usual manic energy momentarily subdued.

“You’re not going to kill me, are you?” you mused, tapping your chin. “Not anymore.”

He stepped closer, his expression unreadable. “Not yet.”

Your grin returned, wicked and knowing. “You like me.”

Dottore chuckled again, this time with a glint of something dangerous in his eyes. “I like to observe. And you, my dear, are proving to be a most… fascinating experiment.”

You threw your head back and laughed, delighted by his response. This was a game, and you were both playing it willingly.

And oh, how thrilling it was to dance with a monster.

Days turned into weeks, and the tension between you and Dottore only grew. He had stopped waiting for you to make a fatal mistake—instead, he found himself anticipating your next move, intrigued by what chaos you would bring next.

One evening, after a particularly reckless stunt that had left half a training ground in disarray, you were summoned to his quarters. You entered without hesitation, grinning as you leaned against the doorframe.

“So, what’s my punishment, Doctor?”

He was seated at his desk, gloved fingers steepled together, watching you with that unreadable expression. Then, to your surprise, he smirked. “Punishment? No. I simply wanted to… discuss.”

You quirked a brow. “Oh? Discuss what?”

Dottore rose from his seat, his steps slow, deliberate as he approached. “You.”

You shivered at the way he said it, how his voice curled around the word with a fascination that was almost unnerving. Almost.

“Are you finally admitting you enjoy my company?” you teased, tilting your head.

His fingers brushed your chin, tilting it up as he studied you. “Enjoy is a strong word.”

You grinned, leaning into his touch. “Indulge, then?”

For once, Dottore didn’t answer with words. Instead, he smirked and let his grip linger just a moment longer before stepping back.

“You should get some rest,” he murmured. “You’ll need your energy for whatever madness you’ll unleash tomorrow.”

You chuckled, stepping past him toward the door. “Oh, don’t worry, Doctor. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

As you exited, Dottore watched you go, his smirk lingering.

Perhaps… he had stopped waiting for you to make a mistake because he didn’t want to lose his most entertaining experiment just yet.

---

A deafening explosion rattled the air, sending a shockwave through the battlefield. Smoke curled in the dimming evening sky, painted with the crimson hues of fire and the dying sun. Your laughter cut through the chaos, wild and untamed, as you dodged between enemy soldiers, the edges of your coat billowing like a banner of destruction.

Dottore stood on the outskirts, arms folded, observing. He had seen battles before—efficient, ruthless, tactical. But this? This was something else entirely.

You fought like a storm incarnate.

Where most would strike with precision, you hurled yourself into the fray with reckless abandon. Where others calculated, you improvised. Your body twisted, spun, a whirlwind of unhinged violence as you flung makeshift explosives—tiny, unstable concoctions that sparked and burst in unexpected patterns.

A group of enemy mercenaries rushed at you, blades glinting. You grinned, eyes wild.

“Let’s dance!”

You leaped forward, twisting mid-air, hurling a small orb onto the ground. The explosion was minor but unpredictable, sending dust and debris flying. The force propelled you backward, landing gracefully just in time to block a strike with a dagger of your own.

The mercenary snarled, pressing forward. You cackled and abruptly let go of your weapon, ducking at the last second. The sudden loss of resistance sent your opponent stumbling, and before he could recover, you slammed an explosive vial into his chest.

He barely had time to register the click before a burst of energy sent him flying.

Dottore sighed, shaking his head as he analyzed your erratic pattern. You should be dead. By all logic, your fighting style was self-destructive, a series of split-second decisions that should have led to fatal mistakes.

And yet—

Another explosion. Another shriek of laughter.

You thrived in this madness.

Your enemies weren’t fighting a soldier; they were fighting a force of chaos they couldn’t predict. The unpredictability was your strategy. You weaved between attacks, using the battlefield itself as your weapon, making every confrontation a theatrical performance of destruction.

One particularly foolish soldier charged at you from behind, thinking you unaware.

Dottore saw it before you did.

He shouldn’t have interfered.

But he did.

With a flick of his wrist, a sharp, whirring projectile embedded itself into the man’s skull before he could even touch you. He crumpled, lifeless.

You blinked, turning toward Dottore, panting. A grin stretched across your lips, madness and something more dancing in your eyes.

“Well, well,” you purred, stepping over the corpse. “Doctor, was that concern?”

Dottore scoffed, voice smooth as ever. “Hardly. I was merely protecting my experiment.”

You cackled, stepping closer, adrenaline making your hands shake with delight. “Oh, darling, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re starting to like me.”

His lips curled into a smirk, crimson eyes gleaming. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to test the limits of my patience.”

You leaned in, breathless and exhilarated, blood and soot smeared across your cheek. “I love tests.”

For the first time in his life, Dottore wasn’t sure who was truly in control of this game.

And he loved that.

Night settled over the Fatui encampment, draping the ruined battlefield in shadows. The fires from earlier had died down, leaving only embers flickering in the distance, casting an eerie glow against the darkened sky. The air still smelled of smoke and blood.

Dottore sat alone in his quarters, his gloved fingers steepled together as he replayed the events of the battle in his mind.

Your erratic, explosive fighting style had defied logic. It was an anomaly, a contradiction—reckless yet effective, suicidal yet victorious. Unpredictable. And unpredictability fascinated him.

You should have been dead by now. You should have miscalculated, one explosion too close, one enemy too fast. And yet, you thrived. Not just survived, but thrived in the chaos.

He had planned to kill you if you became a liability. That was his order.

And yet…

He found himself delaying. Watching. Studying.

Why?

A soft chime echoed through the corridors. Midnight. The camp was silent now, most of the soldiers long retired to their rooms.

His thoughts drifted to you.

What did someone like you do when the chaos ended? When the battlefield lay silent, when there was no audience for your theatrics? Did the madness ever stop, or was it endless, an ever-burning flame?

He rose, leaving his desk, drawn by nothing more than curiosity.

Your quarters were just down the hall. He had no real reason to check on you. But logic had ceased to matter where you were concerned.

Silently, he approached your door.

It was unlocked.

He pushed it open just enough to see inside.

You sat on the edge of your bed, perfectly still.

No laughter. No movement. No sound.

The room was dimly lit by a single candle on the nightstand, its flickering light casting shifting shadows across your face. You weren’t asleep. Your eyes were open, staring ahead at nothing. Your expression was unreadable, empty in a way he had never seen before.

You didn’t react to his presence. Didn’t even glance his way.

Dottore observed in silence.

The contrast was… unsettling.

The manic energy, the unhinged enthusiasm—all of it was gone.

It was as if the moment the world stopped spinning, you did too.

He stepped closer. Still, no reaction.

Not a twitch. Not a blink.

For the first time, he found himself unsure of what he was looking at.

Who are you when no one is watching?

Finally, he spoke. His voice was low, testing.

“…Aren’t you going to say something?”

You didn’t answer.

Seconds stretched into minutes. The flickering candle danced in the heavy silence between you.

Then—slowly, deliberately—you turned your head.

Your eyes met his.

And you smiled.

A slow, knowing curve of your lips, eerily calm.

Dottore’s breath caught—just for a fraction of a second.

Something was different about you in this moment.

Not wild. Not chaotic. But something else.

Something worse.

The silence between you remained unbroken.

And for the first time since he met you—

Dottore wasn’t sure whether he was the observer.

Or the observed.

The silence lingered between you, thick and oppressive, stretching long enough for Dottore to feel something unfamiliar coil in his chest.

Not fear.

No, it was something far more irritating—curiosity mixed with unease.

You sat there, smiling at him, but it wasn’t your usual grin. There was no mania, no giddy anticipation for destruction. Just a slow, knowing curve of your lips. The candlelight flickered, catching the edges of your face in a way that made your expression unreadable.

Finally, you moved—slow, deliberate.

You stretched your arms above your head with a satisfied sigh before tilting your head at him. “Well, well, Doctor,” you murmured, voice softer than usual. “You’re checking in on me now? How sweet.”

Dottore didn’t react, but he noted the shift in your demeanor. The energy was still there, humming beneath the surface, but it was controlled—a stark contrast to the chaos he was used to.

“I expected you to be unconscious by now,” he said, stepping further into the room, studying every detail. The mess of your belongings, the faint scent of sulfur still clinging to your clothes from the earlier battle, the way your fingers tapped idly against your knee. Not out of restlessness—out of thought.

You hummed, swaying slightly where you sat. “Oh, I tried sleeping,” you admitted. “But, you know…” You gestured vaguely with your fingers. “Too quiet. Too still.”

His gaze sharpened. “And that bothers you?”

You exhaled a laugh, leaning forward slightly, resting your chin on your palm. “Not really.” Your eyes gleamed in the dim candlelight, amusement flickering beneath the surface. “But I like the noise. I like the movement, the chaos. And when it stops… well…”

Your grin widened, playful this time. “I get bored.”

Dottore crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. “And yet, you’re far more controlled than usual.”

You tsked, wagging a finger at him. “Oh, Doctor, are you disappointed?”

He didn’t answer.

Because he wasn’t sure.

Your unpredictability was what made you fascinating. But this? This controlled version of you, this version that could sit in absolute silence and watch—this was new.

And Dottore hated things he couldn’t categorize.

You laughed, reading something in his expression. “Relax. I’ll be back to my usual self tomorrow.” You leaned back, stretching with a pleased hum. “But even I need a little downtime, don’t I?”

He studied you a moment longer before scoffing. “You are an anomaly,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“And you love it,” you shot back, grinning.

Dottore smirked, stepping back toward the door. “I tolerate it.”

You pouted dramatically. “How cold.”

As he reached the doorway, you called out after him, voice lighter now, still laced with amusement. “Sweet dreams, Doctor~”

He didn’t look back.

But as he left, shutting the door behind him, he realized something.

That strange unease he had felt before? It hadn’t faded.

If anything—

It had only grown stronger. ---

[knoepfl]

What do you want more?

Here is the Fanfiction: A Dangerous Spark

[knoepfl]

If anyone is at the lbm 2025 today (29.02) and spots a clown girl, then that's me! Feel free to say hi XD

[knoepfl]

Shaggy X Clown Girl headcanons

Shaggy Rogers x Clown Girl Headcanons

Characters:

Shaggy Rogers (from Scooby-Doo)

Reader (female OC, Clown Girl)

Trigger Warnings:

Fear of clowns

Jump scares

Chaos and unpredictability

Light physical humor (e.g., tackling, pranks)

Mild horror elements (e.g., ghosts, haunted settings)

Emotional distress (anxiety, fear)

Masterlist

Words: 1149

---

• Her Chaos Matches His Energy – Shaggy is a laid-back, go-with-the-flow kind of guy, but your clown antics keep him constantly on his toes. Whether you're pulling pranks, juggling knives, or sneaking up on him in full clown makeup, he’s both terrified and completely enamored by you.

• He Screams, You Laugh – Whenever the gang investigates a haunted carnival or circus, you take full advantage of the atmosphere to mess with him. Jump scares? Fake severed limbs? Sudden honking noises? He shrieks every time, and you’re living for it.

• Clown Aesthetic, but Make It Cute – Shaggy isn’t the biggest fan of clowns (he’s seen too much), but somehow, you make it work. Whether you wear bright colors, frilly outfits, or creepy face paint, he still calls you the “cutest jester ever.”

• You Make Him Laugh… Even When He Doesn’t Want To – Shaggy may be a scaredy-cat, but your ridiculous sense of humor always breaks his nerves. Even in a ghost chase, you’ll make some absurd joke, and suddenly, he’s giggling between panicked yelps.

• Foodie Couple Goals – You both have insane appetites. Between mystery-solving, your clown performances, and running from ghosts, you burn a lot of calories. Expect date nights filled with absurd food challenges—Shaggy swears you’re the only person who can keep up with him at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

• You Defend His Honor (Dramatically) – If anyone dares call Shaggy a coward, you’re immediately in their face, honking a horn in rage. “How dare you insult my beloved beanpole?! He faces ghosts on a daily basis! Can you say the same?”

• Honk for Comfort – If Shaggy’s ever having a rough day, you’ll pull out a rubber clown nose and gently boop it against his own. It always gets a chuckle, and that’s exactly why you do it.

• Romantic Grand Gestures (Clown Style) – While Shaggy is more lowkey with romance, you love grand, theatrical gestures. Think dramatic, over-the-top serenades, surprise magic tricks that end in a bouquet, and juggling snacks for him like a circus act.

• You Both Run From Ghosts... But Make It Funny – While Shaggy and Scooby are known for their hilarious chase scenes, adding you into the mix turns it into full slapstick chaos. Expect pies to be thrown, acrobatic escapes, and you using honking shoes to confuse the enemy.

• He Adores Your Weirdness – No matter how eccentric, creepy, or chaotic you are, Shaggy absolutely loves you for it. “Like, you may be the wildest chick I’ve ever met, but man… you make life so much fun.”

• "Zoinks, Babe!" – But Affectionately – Shaggy is constantly amazed (and mildly terrified) by your clown antics. Whether you’re walking on stilts out of nowhere, pulling endless scarves from your sleeve, or appearing upside-down in his peripheral vision, his go-to response is always: "Zoinks, babe!" followed by nervous laughter.

• You Turn Every Mystery into a Performance – The gang is investigating a haunted circus? You’re out here hyping the chase scene like a ringmaster. “Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on the mystical, mysterious disappearing ghost! Oh wait, that’s just Fred.”

• You’re His Personal Bodyguard – Everyone assumes Shaggy protects you, but in reality, you are the real threat. If a ghost gets too close, you’re throwing pies, honking a giant horn, or physically tackling the villain in a full-on wrestling move. Nobody messes with your scaredy-cat boyfriend.

• Unexpected Strength – Shaggy jokes about how he’s a noodle, but you? You can lift him effortlessly during your circus routines. The first time you casually picked him up bridal-style, he nearly fainted from shock. Velma and Daphne now find it hilarious to request a “Shaggy lift” on demand.

• Scooby Is Suspicious – Scooby Doo takes a long time to warm up to you. At first, he side-eyes your clown persona, giving Shaggy the "are you sure about this?" look. But after you share your stash of Scooby Snacks and teach him a trick or two, he fully accepts you into the gang.

• Matching Outfits… Kind Of – You absolutely adore dressing up Shaggy in fun, colorful outfits. While he draws the line at full clown makeup, you somehow convince him to wear rainbow suspenders or a goofy polka-dot bowtie on special occasions.

• You’re the Only One Who Can Outsmart Him in Hide-and-Seek – Shaggy and Scooby are masters of hiding when danger is near. But your circus training? Next level. You somehow manage to disappear into thin air, fitting into impossibly small hiding spots. Fred is still trying to figure out how you folded yourself into a popcorn machine once.

• You Scare Him More Than the Ghosts Do – Shaggy is used to haunted mansions and monsters, but nothing nothing compares to you sneaking up behind him and whispering in his ear, “Want to see a magic trick?” Cue immediate flight response.

• Dramatic Date Nights – When it’s just the two of you, you love to make things theatrical. Movie nights? You perform exaggerated reactions to every scene. Picnic dates? You pull a full tablecloth and dinner set out of your pocket. Shaggy finds it hilarious, even if it means never having a “normal” date.

• You’re the First to Jump In, He’s the First to Scream – Ghost chasing the gang? You’re charging at it with a huge mallet while Shaggy is sprinting in the opposite direction. Half the time, you have to reassure him that you have things under control. “Relax, babe, I got this.”

• Shaggy Loves That You’re Fearless – Sure, your clown persona can be chaotic, but one of the things he admires most is how brave you are. Unlike him, you don’t let fear control you. You take risks, embrace the unknown, and always have a joke ready to lighten the mood. Sometimes, when he’s especially anxious, you remind him: “You’re braver than you think, Shaggy.” And that sticks with him.

• When He’s Tired, He Sleeps on Your Lap – After a long mystery-solving day (and running for his life), Shaggy gets so exhausted. The moment you sit down, he flops into your lap like a sleepy golden retriever. You just stroke his hair while he snoozes, and the gang secretly finds it adorable.

• Late-Night Carnival Adventures – Since Shaggy loves fun places (and food), you often take him to abandoned carnivals to explore. He pretends to be spooked, but deep down, he loves how you light up when showing him old circus tricks, hopping on carousels, and flipping on trapezes like it’s nothing.

• You Teach Him Some Clown Tricks – At first, he’s clumsy, but eventually, Shaggy gets pretty good at juggling and basic acrobatics. The first time he successfully flips off a trampoline into your arms, he screams mid-air, but once he lands safely, he shouts, "Like, babe, did you see that?!"

• In the End, He Loves You for Being You – Clown makeup, wild antics, chaos and all—Shaggy absolutely adores you. You make his life unpredictable in the best way, and he wouldn’t trade your colorful, mischievous love for anything in the world.

[knoepfl]

I if requests are open, do you think you can do a syndrome x reader, a continuation of the Christmas special. Maybe he sees the reader interact with kids or babies, and starts to realize what she meant, and becomes an angsty/fluff.

Thank you!

Ohh I had so much fun writing this! Thank you so much for this request. I just love writing for Buddy and I hope you enjoy it.

Family Syndrome ||

Characters:

• Syndrome (Buddy Pine): A former superhero fan turned villain, focused on world domination. Highly intelligent, manipulative, and often self-centered in his pursuits. He initially dismisses the idea of having a family but gradually begins to feel the absence of his wife’s affection and realizes what she truly meant.

• Reader (Wife): Syndrome’s loving and supportive wife, who yearns for a more personal future with him, including raising a family. She is compassionate, hopeful, and patient but also deeply hurt by his initial rejection. Over time, she distances herself emotionally, finding comfort in moments with children, which unknowingly sparks a change in Buddy.

• Various Children & Babies: Represent the warmth and love that the reader desires, unknowingly influencing Syndrome’s realization of what he might be missing.

Trigger Warnings:

• Emotional Conflict: The reader and Syndrome experience a deep emotional rift due to differing desires for the future.

• Dismissive Behavior: Syndrome initially disregards his wife's feelings and aspirations, creating emotional pain.

• Isolation & Loneliness: The reader begins to pull away emotionally, and Syndrome starts to feel the emptiness of her absence.

• Angst & Regret: Syndrome struggles with the realization of how much he has neglected his wife’s emotional needs.

• Soft Manipulation: Syndrome’s past tendencies to prioritize his own plans over their relationship contribute to the tension.

• Bittersweet Realization: Themes of longing, self-reflection, and unspoken love create a slow, aching emotional shift before leading to a heartwarming resolution.

Masterlist

Part 1

Words: 1249

--- Days passed since the conversation, and something had changed. His wife was still there—she still kissed him in the morning, still sat across from him at dinner, still brushed her fingers through his hair absentmindedly when passing by. But there was something different in those gestures, something subtle yet impossible to ignore. She lingered less. She smiled, but there was a flicker of distance in her eyes. And worse, she wasn’t as present in the spaces they used to share.

Buddy didn’t want to think about it. He buried himself in his work, throwing himself deeper into his plans, into new inventions, into every little thing that kept his mind moving so fast he wouldn’t have to acknowledge the unease settling inside him. He told himself he was just imagining things. That she would get over it. That this was just some fleeting phase, a passing thought, and soon enough, everything would go back to normal.

But then he started to notice the silence.

It crept in slowly, so subtly that at first, he didn’t realize what was happening. The quiet hum of their life together, the way she used to sit beside him while he worked, asking about his latest designs even if she didn’t fully understand them, the way she used to press against his side while he ranted about heroes, offering a quiet comment that made him feel heard—it was all fading. And in its place was nothing.

She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t cruel or distant in any obvious way. But he could feel it in the way she moved around him, in the way she seemed to be somewhere else even when she was right beside him. And he hated it.

He wouldn’t bring it up. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of thinking she had shaken him. He would just wait.

And then one evening, he saw her.

It wasn’t planned—he had just been walking through the estate when he stopped in his tracks, his attention drawn to the courtyard. She was there, holding a baby, laughing softly as the child cooed and reached for her hair. Buddy froze. He had never seen her like this before. She was always beautiful, always captivating, but this was something different. There was a warmth in her eyes, a quiet kind of joy, something so tender and real that it made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t understand.

He should have walked away. He should have shaken it off. But he stood there for too long, staring, something unfamiliar twisting inside him. He had never seen her look at him like that.

That night, lying in bed beside her, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way she had smiled, the way her voice had softened when she spoke to the child, the way she had held them so carefully, as if she had done it a thousand times before. He turned onto his side, glancing at her. She was still awake, staring up at the ceiling, lost in her own thoughts.

“I saw you today,” he muttered, voice quieter than he intended.

She turned her head, blinking at him. “What?”

“In the courtyard.” He hesitated, then admitted, “With the kid.”

A flicker of something passed across her face before she sighed. “Oh. Mirage asked me to watch her cousin for a little while.”

“You looked happy.” The words felt foreign in his mouth, strange and uncertain.

She didn’t answer right away. Then, with a small smile, she said, “I was.”

It was such a simple answer, yet it landed like a weight in his chest.

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing at all.

But in the following days, he couldn’t get the image out of his head.

And suddenly, it was everywhere.

At a coffee shop in the city, he saw a father lifting his daughter onto his shoulders, making her squeal with delight. The sound grated on his nerves more than it should have. At one of his warehouses, a woman rocked a baby in her arms while speaking to one of his men, her voice soft and soothing. Buddy turned away before he could look too closely. He went about his life as he always did, but for some reason, it was all starting to feel… hollow.

The worst part was that it followed him even in the quiet of their home.

At night, he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, unable to shake the thoughts creeping into his mind. He imagined little footsteps echoing through the halls, small giggles filling the empty spaces of the mansion. He pictured his wife sitting on the floor, a child in her lap, reading some ridiculous bedtime story with that same warmth he had seen in the courtyard. He imagined that child looking up at him with her eyes, grinning at him with his smirk.

And the idea didn’t repulse him the way it should have.

He still didn’t understand it. He still wasn’t sure what it meant. But when he looked at his wife now, he could feel the weight of everything unspoken between them. She wasn’t pressing the issue. She wasn’t trying to change his mind. But she was still waiting. And he didn’t know how long she’d wait before she stopped altogether.

One night, he found her sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, flipping through an old photo album. He wasn’t sentimental, didn’t care much for looking back, but for some reason, he sat down beside her. He glanced at the pictures, old memories frozen in time—years ago, when they were younger, before everything had fallen into place. Before he had become this.

“You miss something, don’t you?” he asked before he could stop himself.

She gave a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I miss what could be.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to. But when she looked at him, there was something so honest in her expression that it made his throat feel tight.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “…I don’t know how to be that kind of person.” His voice was quieter than usual, almost hesitant. “I don’t know if I’d be any good at it.”

“You don’t have to be perfect, Buddy.” She squeezed his hand, voice softer now. “You just have to be you.”

He swallowed hard, staring at their hands.

“I’m scared,” he admitted. It was the first time he had ever said those words out loud.

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t laugh or scoff. She just leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder. “Me too,” she murmured. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it.”

He didn’t say anything else. He just sat there with her, listening to the quiet crackling of the fire, feeling the weight of something shifting between them.

That night, as they lay in bed, he pulled her closer than he had in weeks. He wasn’t sure where this was going, wasn’t sure what it all meant yet. But as he buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her, he whispered, “Maybe we can talk about it. Someday.”

She tensed for just a moment before looking up at him, eyes wide. “…Really?”

He hesitated, then gave a small, crooked smile. “Yeah. Really.”

It wasn’t a promise. It wasn’t a commitment.

But it was something.

And for now, that was enough.

---

[knoepfl]

May the Force be with Us

Characters:

• Cal Kestis: A former Jedi Knight, struggling with guilt and the weight of being hunted by the Empire. He still holds onto the belief in redemption but is deeply conflicted by the emotional scars of his past, especially his connection to the Inquisitor.

• The Inquisitor: Once Cal's close friend, now a ruthless and powerful servant of the Empire. She takes pleasure in her power, using Cal’s emotional bond with her as a tool to manipulate him and reveling in the hunt.

• Cere Junda: A former Jedi Knight and mentor to Cal, offering him wisdom and emotional support. She encourages Cal to hold onto hope, despite the overwhelming darkness he faces.

• Greez Dritus: A loyal Trandoshan mechanic and pilot aboard the Mantis, providing both comic relief and practical support to Cal.

Trigger Warnings:

• Emotional Trauma & Grief: Themes of guilt, regret, and loss, as Cal struggles with the people he couldn’t save, particularly the Inquisitor.

• Violence & Combat: Intense battle scenes, including lightsaber duels and injury.

• Psychological Manipulation: The Inquisitor uses Cal’s emotions and their shared past to destabilize him.

• Betrayal: Cal faces the painful reality of his former friend’s transformation into an enemy.

• Dark Side Temptation: The Inquisitor’s fall to the dark side and the emotional toll it takes.

• Isolation & Loneliness: Both Cal and the Inquisitor experience deep isolation, marked by emotional and physical distance.

• Guilt & Self-Doubt: Cal’s internal struggle with his failure to save the Inquisitor.

• Bittersweet Reunion: The emotional confrontation between Cal and the Inquisitor, filled with loss and longing.

Masterlist

Words: 2814

--- Cal Kestis had been running for a long time. The feeling of being hunted had never left him, even in the moments when he thought he was safe. Even in the quietest moments aboard the Mantis or in the solitude of distant planets, that familiar sense of being watched lingered in his mind. He could never shake the thought that someone was always just a step behind him—someone who could see him even when he thought he was hidden.

It wasn’t paranoia. It was real.

He had felt her presence in the Force for weeks, always a shadow on the periphery of his senses, never quite revealing herself but always there. The dark side rippled with her power, a taunting reminder that no matter where he ran, she would find him. He had grown accustomed to the feeling, though he never admitted it to Cere or Greez. They didn’t need to know. Not yet. If he told them, he would just be a burden. If he told them, they'd insist on trying to protect him.

But Cal knew. No one could protect him from her. She was the one thing he couldn’t outrun. And no matter how far he traveled, no matter how many old Jedi temples or hidden corners of the galaxy he explored, she would always find him. He had been on the run for so long, but he knew that this time, the end was close.

The old temple he had landed on had seemed like a refuge at first—a forgotten place where time had dulled the memory of the Empire’s reach. He had hoped it might offer some peace, even if only for a few days. But he knew better now. Peace wasn’t something he could hold onto. Not anymore.

As he moved through the decaying hallways of the ancient structure, Cal couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. His boots echoed off the stone walls, his lightsaber hilt pressed tightly in his hand. The Force whispered warnings, sharp and insistent, urging him to move faster, to leave. But it was too late for that.

The darkness called to him, and it was only a matter of time before it revealed itself.

It was then, standing in the center of the temple's grand chamber, that she appeared.

A figure in black, her footsteps silent against the crumbling stone. The shadows around her seemed to swirl, feeding off her presence, the very air growing colder with her approach. Her crimson blade flickered to life, casting an eerie red glow that seemed to consume the light. The helmet she wore was polished, reflective, hiding everything but the harsh, glowing red lenses that locked onto him with predatory intent.

Cal's heart raced. He knew who she was. He had seen her before. Felt her before. She had always been a distant echo in the Force, a cold touch of darkness. But now… now she was real, standing before him, her presence overwhelming him in a way that made his knees feel weak.

"You've been avoiding me, Cal," her voice echoed from behind the mask, smooth and cold, every word dripping with an unsettling mix of amusement and malice. "But no more running."

He tightened his grip on his lightsaber, trying to steady his breath. "I won't let you win," he said, his voice strained but resolute. He didn’t have much fight left in him, but he wouldn’t give up—not yet. Not to her.

The Inquisitor tilted her head slightly, a dark smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "We’ll see about that."

Without warning, she surged forward with blinding speed, her crimson blade flashing through the air toward his chest. Cal barely had time to react, bringing his saber up just in time to deflect the blow. The impact sent a shock through his arms, rattling his bones, but he kept his footing.

“You’ve improved,” she mocked, spinning gracefully on her heel and striking again, each move flowing with the precision of a seasoned hunter. She was in control, and she knew it. Every strike, every movement was designed to test him, to wear him down.

Cal swung his lightsaber with all his might, each attack fueled by the desperate hope that he could hold her off long enough to find an opening. But no matter how fast he moved, she was always there, her strikes calculated and ruthless. Her red blade crackled with dark energy, every clash pushing him further to his limits.

"You’re fast," she taunted, her voice dripping with amusement. "But you’re still so predictable."

Cal gritted his teeth, pushing back with all the strength he could muster. He was tired—so tired. His body screamed at him to stop, to rest, but he couldn’t. Not with her so close. Not with the memory of all he had lost hanging over him.

The Inquisitor’s next strike was aimed at his midsection, and this time, Cal couldn’t dodge fast enough. Her blade grazed his side, searing through his jacket and cutting a shallow wound into his flesh. He gasped as the pain shot through him, but he kept his feet, focusing on the Force to keep him standing.

"You’re slowing down," she said, her voice colder now. "I can feel it."

His movements were getting sluggish, his focus slipping. The dark side of the Force swirled around her, feeding her every move. She was growing stronger with every passing second, while Cal felt his strength draining away. His breath was ragged now, each inhale a struggle. His body was betraying him, but he refused to give in.

In one swift motion, the Inquisitor disarmed him, sending his lightsaber flying from his hand and leaving him defenseless. His back slammed against the cold stone of the temple wall, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs.

The Inquisitor stood before him, her saber poised for the final strike, her red eyes gleaming with anticipation. She didn’t need to say anything; her posture alone made it clear that she knew this was it. She had won. He had lost.

But instead of bringing the blade down, she took a step back, her gaze never leaving his. The silence between them stretched, thick with tension and something else—a strange, unsettling familiarity.

She chuckled softly, the sound sending a chill through his already frayed nerves. "Always so serious, Cal," she mused, almost fondly. "I’ve missed this."

For a moment, she simply watched him, as if savoring the moment before her next move. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, she removed her helmet, letting it fall to the ground with a soft thud.

Her hair—dark, wild, and untamed—framed a face Cal knew all too well. He could hardly breathe.

"No," he whispered, his voice breaking. "It can’t be."

Her lips curved into a cruel, knowing smile. "You remember me, then?" she said softly. "Good. I’ve been waiting a long time for this."

Her eyes—those eyes—haunted him. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t pull himself from the depths of the emotions surging through him. She was gone. This woman—this Inquisitor—wasn’t the person he remembered. The girl he once knew, the one who had smiled and laughed beside him, was buried beneath layers of darkness and rage.

The pain in his chest twisted painfully. "Why?" he breathed, unable to find any other words. "Why did you—"

"You know why," she interrupted, her voice softer now, almost tender in its cruelty. "Because I’m stronger now. Because I like playing with you." Her eyes flickered with something unreadable, a flash of something lost—and something darker. "You always were so easy to manipulate, Cal."

She stepped closer to him, her movements slow and deliberate. His heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of dread and something else, something far more confusing. He felt trapped in her gaze, like he was drowning.

And then, before he could say anything more, she reached out, her gloved hand cupping his cheek.

The touch was gentle—too gentle. Her thumb traced the line of his jaw, and Cal’s breath caught in his throat. He wanted to pull away, wanted to fight against the tenderness in her touch, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know what to do with this feeling, this connection that made him sick and yet… yearn.

"You’ve always been too soft, Cal," she whispered, her voice dripping with a false tenderness. "That’s why you’ll always fail."

Before he could respond, she leaned in, her lips brushing his cheek in a soft, almost delicate kiss. It was a kiss full of mockery, full of the past they had once shared and the darkness she had embraced. It was a kiss that cut deeper than any blade ever could.

And then, just as quickly as it had started, she pulled away. Her expression hardened once again, the mask of the Inquisitor slipping back into place.

"I’ll be watching, little Jedi," she said, her voice cold and final. "I always am."

With that, she turned and vanished into the shadows, leaving Cal alone in the cold, crumbling ruins. The kiss on his cheek burned, a reminder of the woman she had become. A reminder that, no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t save her.

Not anymore.

He collapsed to his knees, his body trembling with exhaustion, pain, and the weight of everything he had lost.

---

The next few days were a blur for Cal. He moved through them in a haze, his thoughts constantly returning to that final moment in the temple, where her face—her face—was revealed. It wasn’t just the shock of seeing her again, or the terrifying realization of what she had become. It was the memory of the warmth they had once shared, the friendship they had built on their quiet moments together. He had never thought to ask where she went after Order 66, never imagined she would have fallen so far into the dark side.

And that kiss. The way she touched him—so gentle, yet so full of malice, as though she was both mocking and testing him at the same time. The memory burned like a wound that wouldn’t heal. It wasn’t just the pain of seeing her again. It was the loss. The loss of someone he had once cared for deeply, someone who had known him in a way that few others had.

Cere had been watching him for days, quietly observing his withdrawn state. The strength he usually held, the steadiness, had crumbled. He was distant, distracted, and she had caught glimpses of the pain in his eyes. It wasn’t just the physical wound from the fight—it was something deeper, something he wasn’t saying.

Finally, she approached him in the cockpit one evening, the soft hum of the Mantis' engines the only sound in the stillness. She sat down beside him, her presence steady and calm, a beacon in the storm of his mind.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “Something happened, didn’t it?”

Cal didn’t answer at first. His hands rested on his lap, fingers curling in and out, the stress of the fight still clinging to him. The memory of her face—her eyes—was too fresh in his mind. He wanted to say something, to explain, but the words caught in his throat.

Cere waited, letting the silence stretch between them. She wasn’t rushing him. She understood. She had seen it all in the Force, too—he was struggling, and part of her wanted to reach out, but she knew better than anyone that he had to speak for himself.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Cal spoke, his voice low and raw.

“I—I saw her,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. "I saw her again." He hesitated, eyes drifting downward, as if he could push the memory back down if he didn’t face it head-on. "The Inquisitor. She—she was her. The one I knew. The one I..."

His words trailed off. He could feel the weight of the truth pressing on him. The girl he had once called a friend was now a monster, twisted by the dark side, consumed by it. She had once smiled at him in the quiet of their shared moments, laughed with him, trusted him. She had been his equal, his partner. And now, she was the thing he feared most.

Cere’s gaze softened as she listened, and she placed a hand on his shoulder, offering him a quiet support that spoke volumes.

“Tell me what happened,” she said softly.

Cal let out a shaky breath, then began recounting the confrontation in the temple. He told her everything: how he had felt her presence in the Force for weeks, always lurking at the edges of his senses, never fully showing herself but always there, waiting. He told her of the fight, of her crimson blade and the way she moved with deadly grace, always in control. But most of all, he told her of the revelation—when she had unmasked herself, when he had seen the face of the girl he once knew.

He paused, his throat tightening. “I couldn’t understand it. Why? Why would she become this? I don’t know what happened to her, Cere. I don’t know how she turned. The last time I saw her, she was just a child. We... we were close. We shared things, feelings...” His voice cracked slightly at the admission, the rawness of it catching him off guard. "And now she's an Inquisitor. A hunter. I... I couldn’t save her. I don’t even know why she’s doing this."

Cere listened, her expression pensive but understanding. She had never known the full depth of Cal’s past, of the friends and lives he had lost along the way. She had always known he carried guilt, a burden that weighed heavily on him. But hearing him speak of her—hearing him admit that he had been close to someone, someone who had mattered to him—added a new layer to the pain she could see festering inside him.

“It’s not your fault, Cal,” she said gently. “You didn’t make her choose this path. And you can’t change what’s already been done. But you can’t keep blaming yourself for something you didn’t control.”

He shook his head, frustration rising in his chest. “But I should have known. I should’ve sensed it. I should’ve found her sooner.” His voice faltered. “I should’ve done something.”

“You can’t save everyone, Cal,” Cere replied, her tone firm but kind. “You didn’t know what happened to her. And sometimes, people... they fall. Sometimes the darkness is too strong for them to fight, and they choose to embrace it. But that doesn’t mean it’s your fault. It wasn’t your choice. It was hers.”

Cal looked down, the weight of her words settling on him like a heavy cloak. His hands trembled slightly, his heart still aching with the memories of their shared past. He had never expected things to end this way. He had hoped—no, believed—that the girl he had known could still be saved. That somehow, they could have had a future together, even after everything the galaxy had put them through. But now... now it seemed like a cruel dream, something that could never be.

Cere’s voice broke through his spiraling thoughts. “You’re not alone in this, Cal. We’re all fighting our own battles. But the one thing we have to hold onto—what we can never lose—is the hope that we can still make a difference. Even when it feels impossible.” She paused, letting her words settle between them. “If you want to save her, if you believe she can still be saved, then that’s your fight. But you can’t do it alone. Not now, not with what’s at stake.”

Cal took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as the words settled within him. It wasn’t about running from her, or even about defeating her. It was about understanding what had happened to her—and maybe, just maybe, finding a way to reach her again.

“I’ll find a way,” he whispered, more to himself than to Cere. “I won’t give up on her.”

Cere nodded, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance. “We’re with you, Cal. We always will be.”

And for the first time in days, Cal felt something stir within him—faint but undeniable. A flicker of hope, no matter how small. He wasn’t alone. And he wouldn’t give up on her. Not yet.

He had to believe that somewhere, buried beneath the darkness, there was still the girl he had known. Still the person who had once trusted him with everything. He had to believe that if he reached out far enough, if he held onto his own light, he could find a way to bring her back.

And with that, he made a silent vow to himself—no matter the cost, he would save her.

Even if it meant confronting the darkness in his own heart. ---

[knoepfl]

Silent Confessions

Characters:

• Yō Uei A confident, cocky individual with a history as a police officer before the petrification. His usual bravado falters when trying to impress the reader, revealing a softer, more vulnerable side beneath his swagger. His connection with the reader grows as he learns to communicate through actions rather than words.

• Reader (You) A quiet and mysterious individual who cannot hear, having lived in silence long before the petrification event. You understand the world in a different way, conveying emotions and thoughts through your presence and actions, drawing Yō in without needing words.

Trigger Warnings:

• Communication barriers: Exploration of the challenges and emotional struggles that arise from being unable to hear, and the complexities of connecting with others.

• Isolation and loneliness: The emotional distance that comes with the reader’s silence and the sense of being misunderstood or disconnected from others.

• Emotional vulnerability: Yō’s struggle to impress the reader and his internal conflict when he feels unnoticed or unappreciated.

• Quiet intimacy: Depictions of non-verbal affection and the bond formed through shared silence.

Masterlist

Words: 721

--- Yō Uei wasn’t the type to feel nervous. Cocky, yes. Confident, absolutely. Nervous? Never. But tonight, sitting by the fire, watching you focus intently on weaving a basket, his usual bravado faltered. Something about you always had that effect on him. Maybe it was the quiet way you carried yourself, or the soft, mysterious aura that surrounded you. Either way, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting your attention.

He cleared his throat, his usual swagger returning as he leaned forward. "Hey, uh... you got a second? Did I ever tell you I used to be a police officer?"

You glanced up at him, a flicker of surprise in your eyes. He mistook it for intrigue, his chest puffing up as he leaned in closer. "Yeah, back in the modern world, I was kind of a big deal. Catching criminals, saving lives—dangerous stuff." He gave a laugh, expecting you to join in.

Instead, you simply tilted your head, offered a small smile, and returned to your weaving.

Undeterred, Yō pressed on. "One time, there was this hostage situation. A guy with a knife—real dangerous. But me? I handled it, no sweat. Talked him down, saved the hostages. The chief even said I had nerves of steel." He leaned back, flashing a grin.

But you didn’t react.

The grin wavered. He frowned, scratching the back of his head as he tried to think of another story. "You know, there was another time—bank robbery this time. Four guys, armed to the teeth. But me? Took ‘em all down. Not to brag, but they called me the ‘hero of the day.’"

Still nothing.

Yō’s shoulders slumped. His usual charm seemed to bounce right off you, like words thrown into the wind. For someone used to commanding attention, the lack of reaction stung.

"Guess you’re not into that kind of stuff, huh?" he muttered, his voice quieter now. He stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

You watched him walk away, your heart aching. You had seen the fire in his eyes, the pride in his posture as he spoke. You knew he was trying to impress you, trying to connect with you in his own way. But the truth was, you couldn’t hear him. The world had been silent for you long before the petrification, and even now, in this new Stone World, it remained that way.

Still, you didn’t want him to think you didn’t care.

Yō lay on his side near the campfire, his back to the group. His blanket was pulled up to his chin, his mind replaying the earlier conversation—or lack of one.

"Guess I’m not as charming as I thought," he muttered to himself, the words bitter on his tongue.

The soft crunch of footsteps in the dirt broke through his thoughts. He frowned, glancing over his shoulder. You stood there, hesitating.

He sat up slightly, blinking at you. "Hey, uh... something wrong?"

You didn’t respond, but you knelt beside him, your movements deliberate. Before he could ask again, you gently tugged at his blanket, silently requesting space.

"Wait, what’re you—?" His words caught in his throat as you slid under the blanket beside him. Your arms wrapped around his, and you rested your head lightly on his shoulder.

Yō froze, his heart hammering in his chest. "W-what are you doing?"

You looked up at him, your gaze soft but determined. You didn’t need words to convey what you felt. Your presence, your closeness—it said everything.

It took him a moment, but he finally relaxed, letting his head rest against yours. The silence stretched between you, but for once, it didn’t feel empty.

"You know," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "you’re... kind of hard to figure out." He chuckled, the sound low and warm. "But... I think I get it now."

You smiled against his shoulder, your grip on his arm tightening slightly.

"Guess I’ll just have to show you how cool I am instead of talking about it, huh?" he murmured, his lips curving into a grin.

He felt you nod, your cheek brushing against his arm. For the first time in a long time, Yō Uei was content to let his actions speak louder than words. The warmth of your presence was all the reassurance he needed. ---

[knoepfl]

Okay okay so I’m back, all your Tim LaFlour writing is so good I cannot stress enough how much I love it. I have like loads of Tim fic ideas (I would love to use them but cannot write for shit) so pls tell me to shut up if I’m getting annoying 🫣

Anyyyywaaaay

I was thinking like Tim and his girlfriend are driving together or in the kitchen or something and a really angry angsty girly breakup song comes on (like good 4 u vibes ya know??) and the reader is screaming along to the lyrics getting really into it and Tim completely panics that she’s mad at him or whatever and I’m not really sure what else, endings up to you?? (Sorry if it’s kinda similar to stuff you’ve written before) Anyways I’m sorry for another Tim ask but I love how you write him so so much anyway have an amazing day ❤️❤️

Misunderstood Melodies

Character List:

• Tim LaFlour – A well-meaning but occasionally anxious guy who tends to overthink things, especially when it comes to his relationship. He’s affectionate, a little paranoid, and deeply cares about his girlfriend.

• His Girlfriend – A passionate and expressive person who gets lost in music, especially dramatic breakup anthems. She has a playful and teasing nature but doesn’t realize how intense she comes across sometimes.

Trigger Warnings:

• Miscommunication/Anxiety – Tim misunderstands his girlfriend’s excitement for frustration, leading to temporary emotional distress.

• Mentions of Breakups (in song lyrics) – The story features a character passionately singing along to an intense breakup song, though no actual breakup occurs.

• Mild Panic/Reassurance – Tim briefly worries that his girlfriend is upset with him, though the situation is resolved humorously.

Masterlist

Words: 556

--- The sun hung low in the sky as Tim LaFlour and his girlfriend cruised down the open highway. They had decided on a spontaneous road trip, seeking to escape the monotony of daily life and explore new horizons together.

She fiddled with the car's radio, searching for the perfect soundtrack to accompany their adventure. After a few static-filled stations, she landed on one playing a familiar tune—Olivia Rodrigo's "good 4 u," a song known for its upbeat tempo and angsty breakup lyrics.

"Oh, I love this song!" she exclaimed, turning up the volume.

Without hesitation, she began singing along, her voice filled with emotion as she belted out the lyrics about betrayal and moving on. Her hands drummed on the dashboard in rhythm with the music, and her head swayed to the beat.

Tim glanced over, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Didn't know you were such a rock star," he teased.

She shot him a playful grin before returning to her impassioned performance.

As the chorus hit, her intensity escalated. She sang with such fervor that it seemed as if the lyrics were her own heartfelt declarations. Her eyes, usually soft and warm, now blazed with the fire of the song's angst.

Tim's amusement began to wane, replaced by a creeping sense of unease. The lyrics spoke of resentment and moving on—sentiments that felt out of place in their happy relationship.

"Uh, babe?" Tim ventured, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.

But she was lost in the music, her voice rising with the song's crescendo.

"Like a damn sociopath!" she sang passionately, her gaze momentarily shifting to Tim with an intensity that made his stomach flip.

Tim's mind raced. Had he done something to upset her? Was this her way of expressing hidden frustrations? The playful atmosphere from moments ago had evaporated, replaced by a tension he couldn't quite place.

"Hey," he tried again, his voice tinged with concern.

This time, she noticed his tone and turned down the volume, her expression shifting to one of curiosity. "What's up?"

"Are... are you mad at me?" Tim asked, glancing between her and the road.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Mad? Why would I be mad at you?"

He gestured toward the radio. "Well, the song... you were really into it. I thought maybe you were trying to tell me something."

For a moment, she stared at him, and then, understanding dawned in her eyes. A laugh bubbled up from her chest, growing louder until she was clutching her sides.

"Oh, Tim," she said between giggles, "it's just a song! I love singing along to catchy tunes, especially ones with that much energy. It doesn't mean anything."

Relief washed over Tim, and he couldn't help but laugh at his own foolishness. "Guess I read a little too much into your performance."

She reached over and squeezed his hand. "You're cute when you're paranoid."

He smirked, squeezing her hand in return. "Just don't audition for any breakup bands anytime soon, okay?"

She grinned. "No promises."

With the misunderstanding cleared, they continued down the highway, the sun setting ahead of them. The radio played on, and while she still sang along with enthusiasm, Tim now understood that sometimes, a song is just a song, and the real melody was the laughter and love they shared on their journey together. ---

[knoepfl]

is the requests list up to date?

No it isn't. I'm very sorry but I still take requests!

[knoepfl]

Hello! I hope you are well. I absolutely adored your Bobble fic it was so freaking cute. Sadly there are not enough writers who write for him. I never requested an imagine so I hope it is okay if I ask you if you could write another Bobble fic. Maybe where he likes y/n but is too shy to admit it because he thinks he is not good enough (maybe because she is not a Tinker or whatever you like). And his friends have to encourage him to confess and a sweet kiss scene at the end! If you don't want to do it then it's fine, I understand :)

Greetings from Germany ^.^

Heyy! Thank you so much for this request! I love writing for Bobble and I do not really have any ideas anymore so I'm very happy to see people like him. ^^ I had a lot of fun writing this and I also feel very special to know I'm the first one to recieve a request from you and to know I have people from Germany who like my writing! I'm also from Germany so I say: vielen Dank und ich hoffe du schreibt noch mehr Ideen! <3

Shy and Sweet

Characters:

• Bobble – A shy and inventive Tinker Fairy who struggles with self-doubt but is deeply caring and devoted. He expresses his feelings through his inventions rather than words.

• Reader (Garden Fairy) – A kind, warm-hearted Garden Fairy with a love for plants and a gentle, shy nature. She admires Bobble but fears she is imagining his feelings.

• Tinker Bell – Bobble’s supportive but slightly mischievous friend who pushes him to confess his feelings. She acts as a motivator and comic relief.

• Clank – Bobble’s best friend, well-meaning but not very subtle. Encourages Bobble and adds humor to the story.

Trigger Warnings:

• Low self-esteem/Self-doubt – Bobble struggles with feelings of inadequacy, believing he is not good enough for the Garden Fairy.

• Mild anxiety – Both characters experience nervousness and insecurity when confessing their feelings.

• Mentions of spying (for comedic effect) – Tinker Bell and Clank eavesdrop on Bobble’s confession, though it is portrayed humorously.

Masterlist

Words: 1454

---- Bobble had always believed that every fairy had a purpose. Tinker fairies built, fixed, and invented—working behind the scenes to ensure Pixie Hollow functioned smoothly. That was his role, and he loved it.

But when it came to her, the fairy he admired more than anything, he felt completely and utterly useless.

She wasn’t a Tinker. She was a Garden Fairy, full of warmth and grace, with soil-stained hands that somehow made her even more beautiful. Every time she laughed, it was like the first light of dawn breaking through the trees. Bobble had never been very good with words, but if he could build something to capture the way she made him feel, it would be the most delicate, most breathtaking invention he had ever created.

The problem was… he wasn’t brave enough to tell her.

And so, he showed his feelings in the only way he knew how.

Whenever she struggled with something—like carrying heavy bags of seeds or finding a way to water delicate sprouts without crushing them—Bobble would show up with an invention. A specially crafted seed dispenser, a tiny sprinkler that mimicked raindrops, a sun-powered lantern for her late-night gardening. Each time, she would smile so brightly at him, and he’d feel like his wings might stop working altogether.

But that was enough, right? Just seeing her happy?

At least, that’s what he told himself—until Tinker Bell found out.

“You like her?”

Bobble nearly dropped the handful of gears he had been holding. He turned to see Tinker Bell standing behind him, arms crossed, eyebrows raised in knowing amusement.

“W-what? Who?” Bobble stammered, fumbling with his goggles.

Tink rolled her eyes. “Come on, Bobble. You’re always making her little gifts. You get all flustered whenever she’s around. You’re in love with her.”

Bobble swallowed hard. The words made his heart stutter.

“I-I wouldn’t say love, exactly,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… she’s amazin’, Tink. She’s got this way of makin’ everything feel brighter, like the whole of Pixie Hollow is just a wee bit warmer when she’s around.”

Tink’s expression softened. “So why haven’t you told her?”

Bobble sighed and turned back to his worktable, fiddling with a small, half-finished pendant made from tiny silver gears.

“Because she deserves someone… better.” His voice was quieter now. “Someone who knows how to say all the right things. Not just some clumsy Tinker with big glasses and—”

“Bobble.” Tinker Bell placed a firm hand on his shoulder, cutting him off. “You are good enough. She already likes you—you’re just too scared to see it.”

Bobble blinked at her. “You really think so?”

Tink smirked. “I know so.”

Clank, who had been listening in the background, suddenly clapped Bobble on the back so hard he nearly toppled over. “Go tell her, mate! Or I will!”

Bobble’s wings twitched nervously. Tell her?

Could he really do that?

That evening, as the sky melted into hues of pink and lavender, Bobble found her near the Pixie Dust Tree. She was kneeling by a patch of moonflowers, gently coaxing the delicate petals open with the soft glow of pixie dust.

His heart hammered in his chest.

“You always make that look so easy,” he said before he could lose his nerve.

She turned, smiling at him. “Bobble! What brings you here?”

He hesitated, then stepped forward, clutching the small pendant he had been working on all day.

“I, uh, I made somethin’ for you,” he said, holding it out with trembling fingers.

She took it carefully, eyes widening as she examined the intricate silver petals. “Bobble, it’s beautiful.”

Bobble swallowed hard. His pulse pounded in his ears. This was it.

“I—there’s somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to say,” he admitted, voice shaking. “I—I like you. A lot. I have for a long time.”

Silence stretched between them. His hands clenched into fists, bracing for rejection.

But then, she smiled. That smile. The one that made him feel like he was flying even when his feet were on the ground.

“Oh, Bobble…” She stepped closer, reaching for his hands. “I like you too.”

Bobble’s breath hitched. “You do?”

Instead of answering, she leaned in, pressing a soft, warm kiss to his cheek.

His entire body went still. His wings fluttered wildly, his goggles nearly slipping off his nose. Somewhere in the distance, Clank let out a loud whoop, and Tink’s laughter rang through the air.

Bobble barely heard them. All he could focus on was the fairy in front of him, smiling at him, choosing him.

---

Bobble’s heart pounded as she pulled away, her soft lips still lingering on his cheek in the form of a warm, fluttery sensation. His wings twitched so fast he thought he might lift off the ground without meaning to.

She had kissed him.

She liked him.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. His brain had completely stopped working.

She must have noticed, because she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and let out a nervous little laugh. “U-um… was that okay?”

Bobble blinked rapidly, his face heating up. “Okay? I—uh—I mean, aye, it was more than okay! It was—” He let out a high-pitched laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just—uh—wow.”

Her cheeks turned a soft pink as she fidgeted with the pendant he had given her. “I’ve been hoping you’d tell me how you felt for a while…” she admitted shyly, looking down at the little silver flower in her hands. “But I didn’t want to say anything first. I was worried maybe I was imagining it.”

Bobble’s jaw nearly dropped. “You were worried?”

She nodded, her wings fluttering nervously. “You’re so talented, Bobble. Always inventing these amazing things, helping everyone… I thought maybe you just saw me as a friend.”

Bobble felt like his heart might burst. “Oh, lass,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea.”

Before he could stop himself, he gently took her hands in his, squeezing them as he looked into her eyes. “I’ve liked you for so long. I just thought you deserved someone… someone better than a clumsy Tinker like me.”

She gasped softly, shaking her head. “Bobble, don’t say that.”

His breath hitched as she took a small step closer. “You’re kind,” she whispered. “And clever. And you always know how to make me smile.” Her fingers curled around his. “I don’t want someone else.”

Bobble felt like his wings had stopped working entirely.

Then, as if realizing how bold she had just been, she suddenly looked away, cheeks burning. “I-I mean, um… if you still like me, that is…”

Bobble let out a breathless chuckle, his heart swelling with adoration. “Aye. I still like you,” he murmured, barely believing this was real.

She peeked up at him through her lashes, and something about the way she looked—so shy, yet so happy—made Bobble’s heart skip a beat.

Before he could even think about it, he lifted her hand and pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to her knuckles.

She gasped, eyes going wide, and Bobble immediately panicked. “Oh! Was that—was that too much? Did I—”

But she only giggled, hiding her face behind her hands as her wings fluttered wildly. “N-no! I just… I wasn’t expecting that…”

Bobble grinned, feeling a new sense of confidence bubble up in his chest. “Good surprise, then?”

She peeked at him through her fingers, her smile soft and full of warmth. “The best.”

A loud CRASH suddenly sounded from the bushes behind them, making both of them jump.

Bobble turned just in time to see Clank stumble out from behind a tree, looking sheepish. Tinker Bell hovered beside him, arms crossed, shaking her head.

“Oops,” Clank muttered, his large hands fumbling to straighten his vest. “Didn’t mean to fall outta the bush.”

Bobble groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Were you spyin’ on us?”

Tinker Bell smirked, not looking the least bit guilty. “Spying is a strong word. I’d call it… making sure you didn’t back out.”

Clank beamed. “And makin’ sure ya finally kissed!”

Bobble’s face turned bright red. “I didn’t kiss—” He stopped, glancing at the fairy beside him, who was now covering her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Tinker Bell raised an eyebrow. “Not yet.”

Bobble’s heart practically stopped. His eyes darted back to the girl next to him, and to his surprise, her own cheeks were red as well.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, shyly, hesitantly, she reached for his hand again.

Bobble’s breath caught.

And as she leaned in—closer, closer—he finally let his eyes flutter shut.

And when her lips softly brushed his, it was more magical than anything he could have ever invented. ----

[knoepfl]

Can you please do a palladium x reader so palladium doesn't know that the reader is a precure he thinks that the reader is a normal human but the reader is a precure known as cure galaxy and he only find this out when the trix attack and the reader tells everyone to run but when the reader thinks that no one is there she transformers into her precure form but she doesn't know that her husband and the winx where there and she absolutely scared the trix because of how powerful the reader is (so of course the reader is an adult the reader is a legendary precure she knows about everything it's OK if you don't do this not everyone knows about precure)

Secrets of the Stars

Characters:

• (Y/N) / Cure Galaxy – A legendary Precure with immense cosmic power. She has kept her identity a secret, living as a normal human at Alfea and as Palladium’s wife. Brave, kind, and protective, she fights for others but fears how her loved ones will see her if they knew the truth.

• Palladium – A gentle, intelligent professor at Alfea and (Y/N)’s loving husband. He is calm, wise, and deeply caring, though initially unaware of (Y/N)’s true identity.

• Bloom – The leader of the Winx, a Fire Fairy with a strong sense of justice. She admires (Y/N)’s power and respects her deeply.

• Stella – The Fairy of the Sun and Moon, known for her dramatic personality and love for fashion. Finds (Y/N)’s reveal both adorable and awe-inspiring.

• Flora – The Fairy of Nature, kind and empathetic. She accepts (Y/N) immediately.

• Musa – The Fairy of Music, known for her tough but caring nature. She is impressed and slightly intimidated by (Y/N)’s strength.

• Tecna – The Fairy of Technology, logical and analytical. She is fascinated by (Y/N)’s abilities.

• Aisha (Layla) – The Fairy of Waves, strong-willed and courageous. Respects (Y/N)’s strength.

• The Trix (Icy, Darcy, Stormy) – The main antagonists of the story, a trio of powerful witches who attack Alfea. They are completely caught off guard by (Y/N)’s true power.

Trigger Warnings:

• Mild Violence/Fighting – (Y/N) battles the Trix using powerful magic, though nothing graphic is described.

• Secrecy and Fear of Rejection – (Y/N) struggles with revealing her identity, fearing Palladium and her friends will see her differently.

• Mild Emotional Angst – (Y/N) has an emotional moment when confronted about her secret, but it leads to a loving and reassuring resolution.

Masterlist

Words: 874

--- Professor Palladium had always prided himself on his knowledge. As one of Alfea’s most respected teachers, he had studied magic, ancient spells, and mystical creatures for years. But there was one mystery he had never been able to solve—you, his wife.

You were human… or so he thought. Unlike the fairies at Alfea, you had no wings, no magic that he could sense, yet there was something different about you. You had an aura of quiet strength, a presence that demanded attention even in silence.

He never questioned it. After all, love wasn’t about understanding everything—it was about trust.

But that trust would soon be tested in ways he never imagined.

---

Alfea was under siege.

Stormy, Icy, and Darcy stood at the entrance of the school, their dark magic crackling like a storm ready to consume everything in its path. Fairies screamed, running for cover as spells exploded against the castle walls.

You had been walking through the courtyard when the attack began. Instinct kicked in immediately. You knew the Trix weren’t just here to cause trouble—they were looking for something.

Or someone.

You turned to Palladium, whose protective stance made your heart ache. He had no idea what you were capable of, but he was still ready to fight for you.

“Run,” you said firmly, gripping his wrist. “Take the students and the Winx and go.”

He hesitated. “But—”

“No time to argue,” you interrupted, eyes burning with intensity. “Please, just go.”

The Winx, hovering nearby, exchanged glances before reluctantly retreating with the students.

You let out a slow breath, waiting until you were certain they were gone. Then, you turned back to the Trix.

“You should leave,” you warned, voice calm but firm. “Now.”

Icy sneered. “And what, let you run off like a scared little human?” She raised a hand, ice forming at her fingertips. “I don’t think so.”

They had no idea who they were dealing with.

You closed your eyes, drawing in the cosmic energy that had slept within you for so long.

“Precure… Metamorphose!”

Light burst from your body, a brilliant swirl of stars and galaxies engulfing you. Your casual clothes faded, replaced by a dazzling suit of celestial armor. The ground trembled beneath you as your transformation completed.

When the light faded, you stood before them—not as a simple human, but as the legendary warrior Cure Galaxy.

The Trix froze.

“…What the—?” Stormy stammered, eyes wide.

Darcy took a cautious step back. “This… this magic isn’t normal fairy magic.”

Icy’s confidence wavered, but she quickly masked it. “Tch. Doesn’t matter who you are. You’re alone.”

You smirked. “Am I?”

From the shadows, Palladium and the Winx stood, completely frozen in shock.

“Th-that’s (Y/N)?” Bloom whispered, eyes wide.

“She’s… a Precure?” Stella gasped.

Palladium’s breath caught in his throat. His wife—his human wife—was glowing with the energy of the cosmos itself, radiating a power that rivaled even the strongest fairies.

But you didn’t know they were there.

Instead, you turned back to the Trix, power radiating from your very soul.

“I warned you,” you said softly, before raising your hands. “Galactic Starburst!”

A cascade of celestial energy erupted from your palms, crashing into the Trix like a meteor shower. The sheer force sent them flying, their screams echoing through the courtyard before they vanished in an explosion of stardust.

Silence.

You exhaled, lowering your hands as the glow around you faded. With a flicker of light, your transformation disappeared, leaving you once again in your human form.

You turned to leave, but then—

“(Y/N)?”

You froze.

Slowly, you turned, and your stomach dropped.

Palladium stood there, his usually calm eyes filled with something between awe and shock. The Winx hovered behind him, equally stunned.

“…You saw.”

It wasn’t a question.

Palladium stepped forward, studying you as if seeing you for the first time. “All this time… You’ve been…?”

You swallowed hard. “I wanted to tell you,” you admitted softly. “But… I didn’t know how.”

His eyes softened. “Why?”

You hesitated. “Because I didn’t want you to see me differently.” You looked away. “I didn’t want to be a warrior to you. I just wanted to be… me.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then—warm hands cupped your face, tilting your gaze back to his.

“You’ve always been you,” Palladium murmured, his voice gentle. “And I have always loved you.”

Your breath hitched. “Even now?”

His lips curved into a small, loving smile. “Especially now.”

Emotion swelled in your chest. You had fought countless battles, faced enemies more terrifying than the Trix, but nothing had ever made your heart race like this moment.

A soft laugh escaped you, teary but warm. “I guess I don’t need to hide anymore.”

He kissed your forehead, holding you close. “Never again.”

Behind you, Stella wiped a tear dramatically. “Okay, that was adorable.”

Musa smirked. “And a little terrifying.”

Bloom shook her head with a smile. “You really are amazing, (Y/N).”

You chuckled. “You guys aren’t scared?”

Flora beamed. “Of you? Never.”

A newfound warmth filled your chest. You had always fought alone, but now… now you didn’t have to.

You weren’t just a warrior. You were a wife, a friend. And for the first time in a long time—

You were home. ---

[knoepfl]

Can you please do a professor palladium x reader so the reader is a normal human but she hide the fact that she's a precure and the only reason why palladium find out is because the reader got hurt and has the explain to her husband that she a precure and of course this make palladium worried and he asked why the reader never told him the reader simply replied with "I don't want to make you worry more then you already are" (so precure are magical girls you can easily look up what precure is and the reader is a hirogaru shy precure and of course the reader is an adult the reader alreadyknows about winx and everything and she knows that her husband isn't human)

Hidden Secrets

Characters

• Professor Palladium A gentle, intelligent, and empathetic professor at Alfea. Despite being non-human, Palladium's nurturing nature and wisdom make him deeply loved by his students. As a husband, he is protective, patient, and always concerned for his wife’s well-being, though he has a tendency to overthink and worry.

• Reader (You) An adult Hirogaru Sky Precure living a double life. On the surface, you are a normal human with knowledge of the magical world and a love for your non-human husband. Beneath that, you are a brave and selfless magical girl fighting to protect Earth. You hide your secret life from Palladium out of fear of burdening him, but your loyalty and love for him are unwavering.

Trigger Warnings

• Injury and Blood Descriptions of a wound sustained during battle, including blood and physical pain.

• Emotional Tension Themes of guilt, secrecy, and emotional vulnerability as the reader struggles with hiding their identity from Palladium. His worry and reaction may also evoke emotional intensity.

• Supernatural Violence (Implied) References to the reader’s battles as a Precure, including the physical and magical toll it takes on them, though no explicit fight scenes are depicted.

• Themes of Burden and Secrecy Exploration of the emotional strain of hiding one’s struggles to avoid burdening a loved one, and the eventual breakdown of those barriers.

Masterlist

Words: 646

--- The dim light of the study room danced across Professor Palladium’s face as he poured over a new set of ancient scrolls. You sat across the room, pretending to read a book, but your body ached with exhaustion after your most recent battle as a Hirogaru Sky Precure. You thought you had hidden the injuries well, but you winced slightly when you shifted in your chair.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Palladium’s gentle voice broke the silence, his golden eyes filled with concern.

You plastered on a smile. “I’m fine, just a little sore. I probably strained something while cleaning.”

His gaze lingered, but he didn’t press further, returning to his scrolls. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest. You hated lying to him, but what else could you do? He already carried so much weight on his shoulders as a professor at Alfea, a magical world far removed from your life as a magical girl fighting in secret. How could you burden him with your double life as a Precure?

But your body betrayed you. When you stood up to leave, you stumbled, your vision blurring. Palladium was at your side instantly, catching you before you hit the floor. As he steadied you, his hand brushed against a wound hidden beneath your sleeve. His eyes widened as he felt the warmth of your blood.

“Y/N, what is this?” he asked, his voice sharper than you’d ever heard.

“It’s nothing,” you tried to say, but the stern look in his eyes silenced you. He guided you to a chair and gently pushed up your sleeve to reveal a gash that shimmered faintly with residual magic.

“This… this isn’t a normal wound,” he murmured, his voice shaking. “What’s going on?”

You sighed, realizing you couldn’t keep the truth from him any longer. “Palladium, there’s something I’ve been hiding from you.”

He knelt before you, his hands trembling as he held yours. “Tell me.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m a Precure. A Hirogaru Sky Precure, to be exact. I’ve been fighting to protect the Earth from evil forces for a long time now. That’s why I got hurt.”

For a moment, Palladium said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then, his hands tightened around yours. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you whispered, “I didn’t want to make you worry more than you already do. You’re always so stressed with your work, and I thought… I thought it would be better if I handled it on my own.”

His gaze softened, but the worry in his eyes didn’t fade. “Y/N, you’re my wife. I love you more than anything. If you’re putting yourself in danger, I need to know. I can’t lose you.”

You reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down his cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just didn’t want you to feel helpless.”

He leaned into your touch, his voice barely above a whisper. “I would never feel helpless as long as I have you. But I need you to promise me something.”

“What is it?”

“Promise me you’ll tell me when you’re hurt, or when you’re in danger. Let me share the burden, even if I can’t fight beside you. Please.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with love for the man who had always been your anchor. “I promise.”

Palladium wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as if to shield you from the world. “You’re incredibly brave, Y/N. But even the bravest warriors need someone to lean on. Let me be that person for you.”

As you rested your head against his chest, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. For the first time in a long while, you didn’t feel the need to carry the weight of your secret alone.

---

[knoepfl]

Can you please do a palladium x disabled reader more persistly a disability that needs medication

True Painkiller

Characters:

• Reader – A student at Alfea with a chronic illness that requires daily medication. They struggle with fatigue and the pressures of magical studies but remain resilient and independent. They often seek quiet spaces and prefer staying behind after class.

• Professor Palladium – A gentle and observant professor of Potions and Alchemy. He is patient and understanding, offering quiet support without pressuring the reader. He respects their independence while providing moments of care and reassurance.

Trigger Warnings:

• Chronic illness & medication use – The story involves a protagonist managing a chronic condition that requires daily medication. Themes of exhaustion and difficulty remembering/taking medicine are present.

• Fatigue & mental strain – Mentions of physical exhaustion, struggling to keep up with studies, and frustration with personal limitations.

• Mild self-doubt – The protagonist sometimes questions their ability to keep up with others but is never portrayed as weak or incapable.

• Emotional comfort & caretaking – Themes of gentle encouragement, quiet support, and subtle acts of care from Palladium.

Masterlist

Words: 485

---

The Alfea halls were quiet at this hour, the usual chatter of students replaced by the faint flickering of magical lanterns. You sat on the edge of a desk in the potion lab, your fingers tracing the cool glass of a small medicine vial. The day had been long, and exhaustion clung to your limbs like a heavy fog. You knew you needed to take your medication, but sometimes, even that felt like a battle.

A familiar warmth filled the room as a soft voice interrupted your thoughts.

"Still here?" Professor Palladium stepped inside, his usual calm demeanor untouched by the lateness of the hour. He was dressed in his elegant robes, the faint shimmer of magic still clinging to him from his last lesson. His gaze, always observant, landed on the vial in your hands.

You sighed, offering a tired smile. "Yeah… Just needed a moment."

He didn’t press, nor did he question. Instead, he moved to stand beside you, leaning slightly against the desk in a way that made him feel less like a professor and more like a quiet guardian.

"You often stay behind after class," he mused.

You nodded, gripping the vial a little tighter. "It's easier sometimes. Less noise. Less pressure."

He hummed thoughtfully. You had confided in him once—about the condition that made your magic sometimes flicker, the exhaustion that crept up on you without warning, and the medication that helped but didn’t erase the struggle. You never expected him to care beyond polite concern, but Palladium was different. He never treated you as fragile. He simply… understood.

"Would you like some water?" he asked, as if sensing your hesitation.

You exhaled slowly. "Yeah… that’d help."

With a wave of his hand, a glass of water appeared beside you, the liquid shimmering faintly with a hint of magic. You glanced at him, and he only offered a small, patient smile. No pressure. No judgment. Just him, waiting.

Taking a deep breath, you uncapped the vial and swallowed the pill, following it with a sip of water. The tension in your chest loosened, just a little.

"There," Palladium said softly, as if you had just accomplished something grand. Maybe, in a way, you had.

You looked at him, studying the way his hair caught the dim light. He had always been composed, almost ethereal, but moments like this—where he chose to stay, to care—made him feel entirely real.

"Thank you," you murmured.

He tilted his head, a soft amusement in his gaze. "No need to thank me. I only offered water."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "You did more than that, and you know it."

His smile grew just a fraction, something warm flickering beneath his usual serene expression. He didn’t deny it. Instead, he offered something else—his presence, his understanding. And in that moment, it was enough.

Maybe, with him around, the weight wouldn’t feel so heavy after all.

---

[knoepfl]

Mahito x curse reader who's as strong as him. I like the idea of them being childish together except the reader switches to being serious at random moments. Like laughing a bunch with him to just LOCKING IN. There doesn't need to be a specific gender given, but I'd prefer a pretty lady sense there's hardly any girls in JJK. Much less lady villains!

Childlike brutality

Characters:

• Reader (You) – A sadistic and playful individual who thrives on chaos and destruction. You revel in the art of battle, treating violence like a game. While you have an almost childlike joy in your cruelty, there’s a switch in you—when things get serious, your demeanor becomes cold, calculated, and merciless. You have a deep connection with Mahito, both as partners in destruction and as equals in madness.

• Mahito – A cruel and mischievous cursed spirit who delights in reshaping the human form. His amusement comes from suffering, but he carries an odd charm, making his atrocities feel like a game. He shares a twisted camaraderie with you, enjoying the carnage and chaos you create together. While he’s playful and unpredictable, he respects your abilities and finds fascination in the moments when your demeanor shifts to something more serious.

• Unidentified Sorcerer – A strong, determined jujutsu sorcerer who stumbles upon your carnage. Unlike weaker prey, they put up a fight, forcing you and Mahito to exert effort. They refuse to give in, even as they’re overwhelmed.

• The Watcher – A nameless figure hiding in the shadows, likely another sorcerer or an informant. Unfortunately for them, you notice their presence before they can escape, sealing their fate.

Trigger Warnings:

• Graphic Violence & Gore: Detailed descriptions of blood, bodily harm, and disfigurement, including broken bones, flesh manipulation, and brutal combat.

• Psychological Horror: Themes of sadism, dehumanization, and the thrill of causing suffering. The main characters view others as playthings rather than people.

• Unsettling Themes: Includes descriptions of childlike joy in cruelty, a lack of empathy, and a casual attitude toward murder and destruction.

• Death & Torture: Explicit references to victims being killed, tortured, and reshaped through Mahito’s abilities.

• Mild Profanity: Some casual swearing, though not excessive.

Masterlist

Words: 1104

Mahito stretched his arms over his head, his silver-blue hair catching the glow of a nearby streetlamp. “So, who’s the lucky one tonight?”

---

The city streets were alive with flickering neon lights, but beneath the surface, darkness slithered through the cracks. You and Mahito walked side by side, blending into the night like shadows with cruel grins. The thrill of the last hunt still buzzed in your veins, but you craved more—always more.

You hummed in thought, tapping your chin playfully before your eyes landed on a group of sorcerers down the alley. A slow smirk spread across your lips. “Them.”

Mahito followed your gaze, a delighted chuckle bubbling up from his throat. “Oh, you really do know how to pick ‘em.”

Without another word, the two of you slipped into the darkness, moving with the fluidity of phantoms. The sorcerers—clad in their uniforms, exuding confidence—had no idea that death was slinking toward them with childlike amusement.

The moment one of them sensed something was off, it was already too late.

You struck first, your hand slicing through the air as your cursed energy flared, warping the very space around you. A sickening crunch echoed as one sorcerer was sent flying, his ribs shattering on impact against the brick wall.

Mahito cackled as he twisted his form, his fingers grazing another sorcerer’s arm—flesh warping instantly into an unrecognizable mass. Their screams rang out, music to your ears.

But then—

A flicker of power surged through the alley. A new presence.

You halted mid-motion, your senses sharpening in an instant. Mahito, too, paused, tilting his head curiously. “Oh? Seems like we’ve got company.”

From the shadows emerged a figure clad in a long coat, a distinct aura of cursed energy radiating from them. Not a weakling. Not a bystander. A sorcerer with real strength.

Your grin widened. “Finally. A challenge.”

Mahito’s laughter rang out, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Without hesitation, the battle began.

The sorcerer moved first, hands weaving through the air as cursed energy crackled around them. You barely had time to react before a wave of force sent debris flying. You twisted mid-air, landing with ease as Mahito danced backward with a grin.

“Fast one, huh?” Mahito mused, his fingers flexing as his flesh writhed with anticipation.

You lunged, your body warping as you dissolved into a blur, reappearing just behind the sorcerer. Your claws extended, aiming for their throat—but they dodged, twisting away with trained precision.

Mahito took the opening, his arm stretching unnaturally as he lashed out, aiming to reshape their flesh with a single touch. The sorcerer countered with a blast of cursed energy, forcing him to recoil with an amused chuckle.

“Ooooh, they bite back!” he sang, eyes glimmering with delight.

You weren’t smiling anymore. Your playful nature flickered away as you locked onto the sorcerer with a chilling intensity. You lunged again, but this time your movements were sharper, calculated. No more games.

Your cursed energy surged, distorting the air around you. The sorcerer raised their hands in defense, but it wasn’t enough. Your attack landed, sending them crashing into the alley wall. The impact shook the ground, cracks splintering across the surface.

They coughed, blood dribbling down their chin, but their eyes still burned with resolve.

Mahito strolled beside you, tilting his head. “They’re still kicking. Should we break them a little more?”

You exhaled slowly, your serious expression holding firm for just a moment longer before a smirk tugged at your lips. “Only if you can keep up.”

Mahito’s laughter rang out as the fight resumed, chaos and cruelty entwining in perfect tandem.

---

“You’re making him ugly,” a voice chirped from behind.

Mahito’s grin widened before he even turned his head. “Ugly? Beauty is subjective, don’t you think?”

A burst of laughter echoed in the air as you skipped over the debris, light on your feet, your presence as whimsical as it was deadly. You perched yourself beside him, elbows on your knees, chin resting in your palms. “Mmm, yeah. But symmetry’s nice too, no?” You tilted your head, examining his work with a childlike wonder. “Maybe give him a second nose right here.” You tapped your own cheek, eyes sparkling with amusement.

Mahito’s chuckle rumbled in his throat. “You always have the best ideas.”

The sorcerer beneath them whimpered, his breathing ragged and shallow. Neither of you acknowledged him as anything more than raw material. A plaything. His suffering, his fear—none of it mattered.

For a while, it was just laughter, a harmony of sadistic delight. Mahito, with his ever-morphing features, and you, his equal in power and madness, fed off each other’s chaos like two children let loose in an amusement park with no rules.

But then—

Your eyes darkened. The air shifted. One moment, you were grinning, your body light and full of mirth, and the next, you went utterly still, face devoid of emotion. “Mahito.” Your voice was suddenly cold, unnervingly serious.

His playful hands stilled against the trembling sorcerer. He recognized this switch of yours, and it fascinated him every time. He leaned in slightly, as if waiting for a new game to begin. “Hm? What is it?”

Your gaze flickered past him, sharp and calculating. “We’re being watched.”

Mahito followed your line of sight but his expression remained amused. “And? Let them watch.”

“No.” Your fingers twitched, veins tightening against your pale skin. “They’ll run back to Gojo if we don’t move now.”

Mahito pouted, exhaling dramatically. “You’re such a killjoy sometimes.” But there was no malice in his words—just that familiar glee, that thrill that came from dancing on the knife’s edge of danger. He let the words hang, waiting to see what you would do next.

Without another word, you vanished, your cursed energy rippling through the night like a silent death knell. A dull scream echoed through the alley. The watcher never stood a chance.

By the time you returned, Mahito had already molded the sorcerer into a grotesque, misshapen husk of flesh, a work of art by his own twisted standards. “Done already?” he mused, eyes twinkling as you licked a stray drop of blood from your fingers.

“Too easy.” You huffed before grinning again, all darkness replaced by childish delight. “Race you back to the hideout?”

Mahito cackled, stretching his arms above his head like a bored cat. “You’re on.”

Two curses, two monsters, dashing through the night like giddy children, leaving nothing but twisted corpses and echoes of laughter in their wake. The city was their playground, and its people? Just toys waiting to be broken.

---

[knoepfl]

Heyy I don’t know if u still write for Tim LaFlour but I acc love your writing so so much so I’m begging u pls do more for him.

I was thinking u could do like him dating someone who’s a massive horror fan and she suggests watching a horror movie and obvi he doesn’t want her to think he’s a coward so he’s like oh yeah sure. So she is like super into it and this poor boy is absolutely terrified but doesn’t want to admit it and I was thinking he gets really embarrassed when she asks if he wants to watch something else and storms out pretending he’s upset or something when he acc just can’t stand all the blood or like whatever you want anywayyyysss I love your writing so much and have an amazing day ❤️❤️

Aww, that’s such a fun and adorable idea! Tim LaFlour trying to keep his cool while getting scared out of his mind is chef’s kiss comedy gold. I can already imagine his over-the-top reactions and chaotic energy. I'll make sure to capture his embarrassment and stubborn pride as well as the sweet dynamic with the horror-loving girlfriend.

I’m so glad you enjoy my writing — that seriously made my day! Thank you, and I hope you have an amazing day too ❤️

Scared?

Characters:

• Tim LaFlour: Loud, charismatic, and overconfident college student who struggles with maintaining his “tough guy” image but has a soft and endearing side. Despite his exaggerated bravado, he genuinely cares about impressing his girlfriend and is willing to be vulnerable in the right moments.

• Reader/Girlfriend: Horror-obsessed, confident, and playful. She’s compassionate yet teasing, appreciating Tim for who he is, even when he drops the act and shows his true, softer self.

Trigger Warnings:

• Mild Gore Descriptions: References to scenes from a horror movie involving blood, violence, and dismemberment (in a fictional on-screen context).

• Mild Anxiety Themes: Tim experiences discomfort and fear during horror movie scenes, which may be relatable or sensitive for readers who dislike fear-based situations.

• Humor Involving Emotional Vulnerability: Lighthearted teasing around masculinity, fear, and pride.

Masterlist

Words: 779

---

Tim LaFlour had never been one to back down from a challenge. Sure, he was loud, brash, and maybe a little too confident for his own good, but the guy had pride. So when his girlfriend—his amazing, gorgeous, horror-obsessed girlfriend—suggested they watch a scary movie together, there was no way he was going to say no.

“Horror’s my jam,” he lied, throwing an arm around her shoulders as they settled onto the couch. “Bring on the blood, guts, and creepy clowns. I’m basically immune to fear.”

She grinned, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Really? You’re not gonna wimp out like the last guy I dated, right? He couldn’t handle The Exorcist.”

“Please,” Tim scoffed, puffing out his chest. “I laugh in the face of demons and axe murderers.”

Big mistake, he realized about fifteen minutes into the movie when the first victim was violently hacked to bits.

His entire body tensed as the scene unfolded in gruesome detail. Blood sprayed across the screen, and the soundtrack swelled with bone-chilling screams. Tim’s face twisted into a mix of horror and nausea, but he fought to keep his cool.

He couldn’t let her think he was a coward.

“You okay?” she asked, glancing at him with a knowing smirk.

“Me? Oh yeah, totally,” he said, voice cracking just a bit. “This is, like, nothing. I’ve seen worse, you know? Like that time I had food poisoning during spring break.”

She bit back a laugh. “Sounds brutal.”

“You don’t even know,” he insisted, trying to drown out the gory sounds coming from the TV. “But, uh, yeah, this movie’s great. Love all the... creative uses of chainsaws.”

He was sweating now, gripping the couch cushion like it was his lifeline. His leg bounced nervously as the killer closed in on the next victim.

“Tim,” she said sweetly, “you sure you’re cool? We can watch something else if—”

“Nope!” he blurted out, shaking his head frantically. “I’m good. Totally good. Loving it. This is fun.”

The victim let out a final blood-curdling scream, and Tim physically flinched, nearly knocking the popcorn bowl to the floor. His heart raced, and his stomach churned. Get it together, LaFlour. You’re tougher than this.

Except he wasn’t.

When the killer returned for another round of carnage, Tim’s pride finally crumbled. He shot up from the couch like it was on fire.

“Alright! That’s it! I’m outta here,” he declared dramatically, pointing toward the door.

She blinked, surprised. “Wait, what? Are you mad or something?”

“Mad? Nah,” he said, pacing like a man on the edge. “I just remembered... uh... frat emergency! Yeah, gotta strategize for our next big beer pong tournament. Can’t let the guys down, you know?”

Her lips twitched with amusement. “Tim, you’re totally scared, aren’t you?”

“Scared?” He laughed—loud, awkward, and way too forced. “Me? No way, babe. I’m just... emotionally invested.”

She crossed her arms, grinning. “Right. And all that flinching and sweating was just your passion for cinema, huh?”

Tim groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, fine! You caught me. Horror movies freak me out, alright? Happy now?”

Instead of teasing him further, she softened, her expression warm. “Why didn’t you just say so? We can watch something else.”

He hesitated. “You sure? I mean, you were really into it.”

“It’s okay,” she promised, taking his hand and pulling him back to the couch. “I like you even if you’re a big baby about horror movies.”

“Baby? Whoa, whoa, let’s not throw around harsh labels here,” he said, flopping down beside her. “I prefer... sensitive badass.”

She giggled, leaning into his side. “Whatever you say, sensitive badass.”

He wrapped an arm around her, his confidence slowly returning. “So, what are we watching now? Something romantic? Maybe a movie where nobody gets dismembered?”

“Deal,” she agreed, scrolling through the options.

As a cheesy rom-com filled the room with light-hearted music, Tim sighed in relief. “This is way better,” he admitted.

“Glad you’re not pretending to be tough anymore,” she teased, nuzzling into his chest.

“Hey,” he said, grinning, “I am tough. Just... not when it comes to chainsaws and creepy masks.”

“Noted,” she laughed. “But I still think you’re pretty cute.”

“Yeah?” he asked, heart swelling a little despite himself.

“Yeah,” she confirmed, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

Tim beamed. “You know what? I definitely won that trade. No more blood, and I get kisses? Best deal ever.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.”

As the rom-com played on, Tim relaxed completely, realizing that maybe being a little scared wasn't so bad—especially when it came with cuddles and kisses from the girl of his dreams.

---

[knoepfl]

Hey Guys, I sorry I haven't posted in such a long time. I had a few exams and that stuff and kind of a writers block. Right now I'm working on alot of stuff and already finished a few requests.

I just wanted to say that next week (on monday) I will start posting again. Various things and requests all trough the week. So I suggest you guys take a look at my profile next week.

And of course thank you so much for all the support! I love you guys <3