starshimmering

[starshimmering]

So I’m guessing we’re all chipping in to feed the kids, its gonna be expensive

It’s gonna be a weird day for the Food workers

Found family trope but make is SUPER weird for everyone involved.

[starshimmering]

Re8 Women dating HCs

Contains: Lady Dimitrescu, Donna Benevento, & Mother Miranda

WLW

———————————————————————

Tags: Light talks of manipulation, narcissism, and sadism, mental health issues, fluff, angst if you squint hard enough, possessiveness, slightly unhinged behavior, MY personal head cannons, very slight suggestiveness, Mirandas fucking God complex, isolation, religious elements, cuddling, poor perception of love, & tax evasion.

A/N: Im working on sm things rn it’s not even funny. Despite that, I desperately wanted to post something, so here’s some of my hc. No these are not all my hcs, these are just some of the REALISTIC ones I have. These are based on my own personal perception of these fictional characters. You are welcome to disagree with anything I write, but you’re not welcome to harass me about it. Please keep negativity to yourselfs. Anyways, please enjoy!

———————————————————————

Alcina:

-It’s not that Lady Dimitrescu is incapable of loving another, I just think it’s the way she would love.

-Carnal, possessive, dangerous, a little crazed even. Nothing about the lady’s love is sensual or soft. She’s powerful, domineering, and boy does she relish in it. Of course she’s aware of all the things she could do, all the things you’d let her do. So willing, so compliant, so easy to control.

-Alcina is a narcissist through and through. You will bend to her will, to her every need. You’re hers, after all. (We still love you thou)

-I feel like her love is very incessant, very smothering for lack of better words. She’s not exactly clingy, but she needs you around, she needs to feel your presence.

-Always, and I mean always watching you. Nothing you do will go past her. She needs to know exactly where you are and what you’re doing at all times.

-A bit emotionally manipulative. Of course she doesn’t see it that way, she just wants everything to go her way. What’s so wrong with that?

-I think for the most part she’s a little self aware about her flaws and what not, but I wouldn’t say this with 100% certainty. A big part of her doesn’t really see a problem with the way she is. It’s absolutely normal.

-But to be fair, it’s not like anyone would call her out.. so🤷🏻‍♀️

-Pet names pet names pet names. Alcina absolutely adores them. She only really uses your names unless she’s really pissed. In that case, run.

Donna:

-Shy. So incredibly so that you don’t hear her voice till weeks after working for her. And the way your jaw fell to the ground when you heard it had Angie belly laughing on the ground. If it wasn’t for her, you thought maybe you were hearing things.

-Forgets to eat often. She gets so preoccupied with her dolls, she doesn’t always take the best care of herself. So make sure you remind her to eat:(

-It’ll take AGES to get Donna there, but when you do, she is nothing short of the wait. Very passionate, and a little unhinged.

-Like Alcina, she’s a bit possessive.

-She finally found someone she was comfortable with showing her scare, you’re not going anywhere. You belong to her and that’s final. You’re literally stuck, so get comfortable.

-Values your opinion over everything. Her cooking, her sewing skills, her Garden. Donna swoons at praise. A light pink dusting her cheeks any time you compliment her, no matter how minor.

-Poor Donna has been alone for quite some time now. Touch starved as well as touch repulsed. Have fun with that :)

- Canonically, Donna has really bad mental health issues, which causes her to lash out and make rash decisions. She’s not abusive by any means, just a lot to handle.

-She gets into her own head a lot. Constantly convincing herself none of this is real. That one day she’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.

-I know she has manic episodes. Cannot convince me otherwise. Before you, they were almost unmanageable. Your first experience dealing with Donna during one terrified you. You were so worried about Donna, you had no idea what was happening.

-You tried desperately to comfort her. Unfortunately the voices were stronger than your weak attempts.

-After a while, she finally calmed down and explained that catastrophe as best as she could without scaring you off.

-At first Donna didn’t really understand the purpose of cuddling. It’s not that she didn’t want to, she was just truly confused. After having the significance of cuddling explained to her, she fell in love with it.

-Unironically, she’s the big spoon. She loves holding you, making sure you’re safe in her arms. Now, it’s the only way she can fall asleep.

Miranda:

-This bitch is so crazy.

-All shits and giggles aside, this woman is absolutely sadistic.

-Mind games are inevitable. Especially if she’s truly in love with you, in her dark and twisted way.

-Possessive asf.

-Did I already say possessive?

-Miranda is definitely stingy and will isolate you from your friends/family. Why do you need them when you have her? She’s your Goddess, she’s all you need. Never mind everyone else.

-Definitely the type to tell you to take a nap if you ever say you’re tired of her shit.

-You’re not going anywhere. Nice try, but no.

-I know this is obvious, but her God complex is really top tier. I mean seriously.

-Absolutely loves being worshipped, and not just in the bedroom, if you know what I mean. She wants to be put first, she wants to be your number one priority, your Goddess, your everything.

-She will find a way to incorporate her status & power in everything she does.

-She loves you, but you must always remember your place, under her. Figuratively and literally.

-Despite her cut off personality, she’s definitely a cuddlier. Especially after a long day of failed experiments and aggravating meetings.

-Like Donna, Miranda has been alone for almost a century. She’s so damn touch starved yet also incredibly touch repulsed at the same time. Have fun coping.

-Of course she threatened you if you ever told anyone thou. I mean can you imagine THE Mother Miranda being spooned? Imagine what the public would say.

-Fucking tax evader.

-After she gets Eva back, successfully, she lessens up, but only a bit. Like Alcina, she is the way she is and she doesn’t really see the problem with it.

I want all three of them so badly.

[starshimmering]

wide eyes (cherry pies).

featuring. kobeni higashiyama/reader

word count. 1.07k

content. gender-neutral reader, kissing, intoxication, kobeni-typical crying, reader is kobeni's boss but no power dynamics, thorough consent checks, no smut but EXTREMELY suggestive, love confessions.

notes. this is an 18+ blog. minors and ageless blogs do not interact, you will be blocked.

The hand with your key had shaken trying to unlock the door to your apartment.

It might've been the nerve, or the drink, or the fact that Kobeni had stuffed her face into the crook of your neck, breathing hard and fast, her hands pawing at the back of your suit jacket, squirming like a kitten.

Regardless, they're not shaking now.

The moment the both of you stumble through the cramped parlour and kitchenette to the bedroom, dimly lit with orange string-lights and a salt lamp petulantly aglow in the corner, Kobeni is on you with a vigour you see from her once in a blue moon and always on the field. She's slightly... damp, from sweat or rain or drool or just whatever keeps her perpetually sustained in a state of unspooling anxiety, but her strong fingers have a grip on your blazer, tugging it off like it had offended her.

"S-slow—" you manage to gasp out before she reaches up to kiss you again, fast and needy, parting her lips to lick into your mouth and you groan. "Beni," you pant between breaks for air. "Ben, Beni—"

She whines when you grip her narrow shoulders and push her down, bracketing her fast with your strength. When she peers up at you, your brain flatlines a little; her usual flouncy ponytail has unravelled, leaving two scarlet clips adrift in a wave of messy brunette hair, and it frames a face scarlet with blush from cheekbone to jawline. Her lips are red, full as candy apples, wet with spit, her dark brows knitted up, her dark eyes big and deep and starving.

She makes a needy noise, tries to lean in to kiss you again, but you manage to force her back down.

"Just—just lemme breathe a minute, babe," you pant out. Kobeni goes painfully redder and nods. "Alright. Okay. Look, we've both had a little to drink. Are you sure—"

"Yes," she blurts out, before you've even finished the question. "Th—I mean—that's the only reason I f-feel brave enough to..." Her voice wilts a little, but you can suddenly feel your pulse in your skull.

"Kobeni," you say, lowly. "I... overheard you talking with Himeno a week back. I know you... you haven't done this before. I just want to make sure you want—I mean, that you know what you want. With me, of all people."

Kobeni's eyes fill with tears. "I—I only want you," she hiccups. "I m-mean... God, this is so embarrassing, but I—ever since I got assigned to you, and working under you, I mean, oh, I'm messing this up but I j-just..."

"Breathe, dove," you murmur, and—trusting her to stop jumping you like she's springlocked—move your hands to cup her face. She burns beneath your touch, eyes pools of ink staring urgently up at you. "You're not messing anything up, 'kay? I just need to make sure here. I'm not some kinda scummy boss. I—I care about you. That's half the fuckin' problem, I mean—fuck. I don't want you to regret this. That's all. Okay?"

Kobeni sniffles. "I won't. I've always... it's all I've b-been thinking about. I—every night. And tonight, going out, I thought I was being annoying, clinging to you like I did b-but now we're here and—and I'm so close, please don't send me away." She hiccups pathetically. "I, mm. I love you. I love you."

Something presses down on your chest like a weight, compressing your heart into your ribcage. And you love her too, you love her too, so you lean forwards and kiss the tear tracks on her face whilst she huffs and squirms, craning her neck; her wet lips brush yours once, twice before she makes a whiny noise of desperation and you finally bring her in.

She's jittery, switching between being too enthusiastic and freezing up—presumably because she has no idea what to do. But at least she's moving slower now, satiated apparently by getting her feelings off her chest, and she lets you guide her this time.

"On the bed," you murmur against her lips. "If you're sure."

Kobeni nods frantically, clambering upon your mattress so eagerly that the sheets tangle around her. You bite back a giggle at the sight of her, sitting on her haunches like a dog awaiting its owners return.

"Tell me, okay?" you reiterate as you start undoing your shirt of your own admission; it slips off your shoulders, and Kobeni squeaks, eyes tracking your every moment like it's the last thing she'll ever see. Lamplight glints in the onyx of her eyes. "Kobeni. You can stop whenever. Whatever you're comfortable with. I need you to tell me what to do, how far you wanna go. Okay? You hear me?"

"Y-yes," she whimpers. "I, um..." Her hands wring together, eyes averting into her lap. "I want to... I don't know. I want... you to... t-touch me?"

"That's a start," you agree mildly. "How about we start smaller, though... you wanna take your shirt off?"

Her cheeks burn, but she nods, shaky hands moving to untuck her shirt from her slacks and start on the buttons. Pale skin slices down the middle, adorned with a worn, plain black bra. It looks like it's been through the washer two dozen times—you know Kobeni sends most of her paycheck home to her family. She must not be able to afford luxuries.

You could buy her one. Not in a weird way, like an old geezer sending lace thongs to his twenty-something secretary, obviously. Just... something that doesn't look like it's held together by two threads.

Kobeni covers the exposed skin. "Sorry," she mumbles, and you realise with a lurch you've been staring in silence. "I know I'm not—y-you're probably used to more—"

"Don't think that," you interrupt, walking over and slotting yourself between her legs. The fabric of her slacks strains against her thighs, and she stares up at you, slack-jawed, starry-eyed, alight with blush. "You're so gorgeous," you murmur. "So—the second you walked into my office, oh my god. Haven't been able to get you outta my head. Do I sound creepy? You can tell me if I do."

She shakes her head wildly. "N-no! Me too! I—like you said, the second I walked in—and you've been so kind. Nobody's ever..." Her lower lip trembles. "I really love you. Sorry. I love you."

"I love you too," you murmur, and swoop in to touch her.

[starshimmering]

Big Push | (Poppy Playtime) Boxy Boo x Reader

Fandom: Poppy Playtime

Genre: Friendship, Alternate Universe

Word Count: 1,631

Synopsis: You got separated from Kissy Missy and the others. As you journeyed through Playtime CO’s underground laboratory, you came across Boxy Boo. Through your efforts you managed to tame and befriend the big man-eating toy. Together the two of you venture deeper in the lab, holding to hope that you find the missing kids.

————————————————————————

An air of unease hung around you as you traversed the serpentine corridors of Playtime CO’s underground laboratory. Each step was measured, a delicate balance between calm and caution. Behind you, an unsettling rhythm echoed—powerful thumps that shook the very ground beneath your feet. Boxy Boo lurked beside you, his box-shaped head twitching erratically from side to side. His penetrating black doll eyes scanned the shadows, hungry for any hidden toy prey to sate his ravenous appetite. With every flex and unflex of his bright red claws, the anticipation in the air seemed to grow thicker, as if something thrilling—or terrifying—was just around the corner.

Glass windows flanked the walls on either side of you. Each one had rooms filled with tables turned over, chairs kicked aside, and tech equipment laying scattered about. Some of the rooms were too dark to see through. Others eerily flickered with shadows that revealed brief glimpses of blood stained across the wall and floor. Decomposed bodies of scientists lay scattered throughout each room.

Fragmented memories begin to surface as you walk down the laboratory’s hallway. You remembered it all vividly: Ollie revealing himself to be the Prototype, Poppy abandoning you, Kissy, Huggy, Dogday, Doey, Catnap, Mommy, Delight, and all the other toys you befriended in and out of Safe Haven. Then the floor exploded under your feet. While all the toys managed to get away, you weren’t so fortunate. Kissy had managed to catch you, but it didn’t make a difference as her arm couldn’t handle the added weight. All the more saddening when you watch said arm pop off from her shoulder.

The sound of the toys calling your name echoed around you as you descended into the hole. Filling the air with a sense of urgency. To your surprise, Huggy took a brave leap and dived down after you. His quick thinking and large toy body helped break your fall, which you appreciated. Although you expressed your concerns about his reckless decision, you were ultimately relieved and grateful that he was unharmed.

After a few minutes you and Huggy eventually came across the laboratory’s entrance. Blood red poppy flowers flanked you from both sides, and you saw a giant, empty glass tank in the corner of the area. You entered the next room, but Huggy couldn’t follow as the door closed shut behind you. While you were trying to figure out a way to get the door open, you found a tape and insert it into the player under the television. Leith Pier’s voice sounded through the speakers and at moment, you felt in your gut that something was wrong.

The piercing wail of alarms erupted in the room as Leith's voice crackled through the recording. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Huggy through the glass peep hole, his back turned to you, a mountain of blue shifting awkwardly in the dim light. Suddenly, his limp yellow hand came crashing down onto the steel floor with a thunderous slam, shaking the very ground beneath your feet. In that moment, Huggy turned just enough to cast a glance over his shoulder, his doll-like eyes wild and intense, sending shivers down your spine. Those same eyes had locked onto yours during your very first encounter, an unforgettable meeting etched into your memory from the very beginning.

With those wild eyes, Huggy charged at the locked door with terrifying speed. Slamed his plush hand hard on the door’s surface multiple times, growling like a wild animal as he tried desperately to break through. The pounding continued unabated until the toy behemoth leaned close to the peep hole and let out a bone chilling shirek. That alone was enough to prompt you to run. The chase was pure nightmare fuel, however, you did manage to escape Huggy.

But you found yourself alone once again. Navigating the dimly lit corridors of the laboratory. Each step felt aimless, and a heavy weight pressed down on your heart, smothering any flicker of hope for survival. Anxious thoughts swirled in your mind, especially about the toys you had been separated from. Was the Prototype closing in on them? Were they cowering somewhere in the vast, unwelcoming factory? With Safe Haven destroyed, where could they possibly seek refuge?

Just when despair threatened to consume you, something unexpected caught your eye. Pulling you back from the depths of your worries. Laying on the floor on its side was another giant toy: Boxy Boo. The toy behemoth was barely alive as it breathed heavily, staring at you with its doll eyes. The behemoth didn’t advance you immediately. It was tired and you deduced it was so hungry that it rendered it unable to move, even in its current condition.

You were hit with a dilemma seeing Boxy in this state. On one hand, you could just leave him there to starve to death, as punishment for all the innocent employees you befriended and lost in this behemoth’s belly. But on the other hand, you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. This big toy was like Yarnaby, in a way. He had no idea what he was doing.

As you gazed sorrowfully at the colossal figure slowly fading away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had to do something. You decided to rescue this enormous toy against all odds. Driven by a deep kindness that welled up inside you. With determination, you delved deeper into the labyrinth of the laboratory, your heart racing as you searched for sustenance—anything that could nourish Boxy.

After what felt like an endless quest, you finally stumbled upon just enough meat, a grim collection of remnants that could appease the beast. You approached Boxy with a mix of trepidation and excitement. Hand-feeding him the makeshift meal. To your astonishment, he didn’t lash out; he eyed you at first, but eventually accepted your offering with a cautious appreciation.

After feeding him you watched Boxy slowly rise back to his feet. Anticipation bubbled within you, but you knew not to jump the gun. The toy behemoth lifted his head and bellowed so loud that the walls rattled. As you stood paralyzed, the behemoth lowered his head and locked eyes with you. Followed by a deep, long low growl.

You thought Boxy would finally eat you at that moment. Taking you by the waist in his claws, lift you up in the air, and shove you in his mouth before swallowing whole. But the giant toy just stood there staring at you. After a few minutes you took a step back, but you jumped in shock when Boxy Boo took a step forward at the same time. Everytime you retreated further away from the toy behemoth, he moves ever so closer to you.

In that moment of clarity, it dawned on you what was truly unfolding before your eyes. You had accomplished something that only Doctor Swayer and the countless scientists who had lost their lives could have only dared to imagine. Against all odds, you had managed to tame the beast! Now, it stood by your side, ready to follow you on your journey, a fierce companion loyal to your every move. You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t happy.

All of these memories brought you back to the present.

A frown tugged at your lips as you and Boxy navigated the twisting hallway. A whirlwind of emotions surged within you—joy battled with an undercurrent of fear. The towering toy monster beside you was both a source of excitement and a cause for concern. While you felt a spark of happiness having such a formidable ally, the reports you had read lingered in your mind, casting shadows of doubt. Boxy Boo was known for his unpredictability, and that thought sent a shiver down your spine.

You once read a report that one of the scientists tried to feed Boxy during his feeding time. But instead of eating the meat that was given to him, the bigger body toy lunged for the scientist. Making him his midnight meal in his belly. This incident cause every scientist, including Doctor Sawyer to make new adjustments to Boxy’s cage.

It's only instinctual to keep your guard up around him. You witnessed the chaos that unfolded when Kevin seized control of Doey’s body, a scene that still haunts you. With Boxy, there’s no telling when he might switch sides or turn against you. The uncertainty hangs heavy in the air, making every interaction a game of calculated risks.

You and Boxy stopped in front of a door. Like every other door you came across since you entered the factory’s labyrinth, it required an Omni hand to unlock it. However, before you could retrieve the Omni hand, you saw Boxy approach the door. Without warning, he raised his red furry foot and kicked out. Kicking the door full force, shattering the entire thing from the hinges. The door flew forward and slammed hard on the floor with a loud thud that echoed through the hall’s new section.

“Huh.” You were genuinely surprised. “I…guess that works too.”

You glanced up at Boxy.

“Thanks, big guy,” You said, smiling at him.

Boxy glanced down at you and growled lowly in reply.

“Come on, let’s keep moving,” You said, jerking your head toward the new path ahead of you.

As you and Boxy pressed on toward the newly unveiled section of the laboratory, a flicker of hope ignited within you. Thoughts of reuniting with your beloved toy friends danced in your mind, fueling your determination. The urgent mission to find the missing children—perhaps even Poppy—added to the weight of the adventure ahead. Together, you steeled yourselves, ready to face the shadows of this nightmarish factory and emerge victorious.

You can only hope.

[starshimmering]

Maki Oze relationship headcanons

A/N I just love Maki

Compliment her, but not too much or she’ll think you’re insulting her 

She can, will, and should bench press you

Omg waking up too her and just looking at her calm face jBFEHNBHSNOJF

If you’re ever feeling down expect a Sputter and Flare show, of course in private, she doesn’t want someone to end the cheering up session

Literally so supportive! She will be your personal cheerleader and will get the rest of company 8 to cheer you on as well

If you don’t know how she’ll teach you self-defense. She just wants her person to be safe

She’s a noted hopeless romantic so you just know date nights with her are some of the best you’ll ever experience 

Honestly, her family loves you, they like to see Maki happy and you do just that

Is like a random annoying parent that forces you to look at pictures of their kids, but instead its pictures of her wonderful s/o

She has a lot of weird feelings towards her body so you’ll have to be there to soothe her emotions and mind

She makes fun of lieutenant Hinawa for his fashion but I refuse to believe she wouldn’t love couples outfits 

She can and will show off just for you

Can I get simp for 800?

She just adores you and you the same

If you aren’t part of company 8 prepare to be adopted babeyyyy

Honestly, she loves you and can’t wait till she can your beautiful bride

[starshimmering]

— Otherworldly Differences

mark grayson x saiyan! reader

• fic type: oneshot & fluff

• summary: crash landing on such a feeble planet wasn't on your to-do list. although this being whose nearly as strong a you confronts you, so you decide to humor him.

• word count: 5.8k

• warnings: mild canon typical violence, threat of violence, blood

• a/n: As you can see I got really carried away. 🧍‍♀️I like DBZ and I like Invincible, so why not combine the two!! Also I've just started watching invincible so sorry if he's ooc.

A shrill, wailing sound yanks you from unconsciousness, vibrating through your skull like an alarm gone haywire. You groan, forcing your heavy eyelids open, and are immediately greeted by the acrid stench of burning metal and scorched earth.

Smoke billows around you, thick and suffocating, curling from the shattered remains of your ship—a twisted hunk of alien steel embedded deep in the cracked pavement.

Your head pounds in protest, a dull, throbbing ache pulsing behind your temples. You press a hand to your forehead, then glance down at yourself.

Dust clings to your skin, mingling with smudges of soot and dried blood. Your armor, now riddled with scorch marks and gashes, groans as you shift.

Damn. That landing must’ve been rough.

Muffled shouts rise above the ringing in your ears. Blinking away the haze, you finally take in your surroundings.

Small, weak-looking creatures encircle the crash site, clad in identical dark uniforms. They hold strange little metal sticks, aiming them at you like they actually expect them to do something.

“Put your hands where we can see them!”

“Step away from the wreckage!”

“You’re under arrest!”

You arch a brow, a slow smirk tugging at your lips. They think they can arrest me? That’s adorable.

With a groan, you push yourself upright, rolling your shoulders. A shower of debris crumbles from your armor, scattering across the crater floor. Your hair, wild and voluminous as ever, whips around your face as you stretch.

"Where in the name of Vegeta am I?" you mutter, voice thick with irritation.

The humans stiffen. Their fingers tighten around their weapons, eyes flickering between you and the destruction left in your wake.

The boldest of the bunch—a man with gritted teeth and an unfortunate mustache—steps forward, barrel trained directly at your chest.

“I said put your hands up!” he barks.

You tilt your head, gaze flicking over him with mild amusement. “Do you know who you’re speaking to?”

Apparently, he doesn’t. None of them do. Because instead of answering, they just keep shouting, their voices a frantic mess of demands and threats.

You sigh, rubbing your temple. This is exhausting. If they refuse to answer your questions, perhaps a demonstration is in order.

Your eyes scan the wreckage, landing on the nearest object of interest—a large, boxy vehicle with shattered windows and blaring alarms.

Without hesitation, you grab it by the undercarriage, lift it effortlessly over your head, and hurl it toward a nearby building.

Glass explodes outward as the car crashes through the structure, embedding itself halfway into the second floor. The ground trembles from the impact, sending fresh cracks spiderwebbing across the pavement.

That gets their attention.

“Holy Shit!”

“She’s a freaking alien!”

“No shit,” you scoff, crossing your arms. “Now, which one of you is in charge?”

Before anyone can respond, a gust of wind nearly knocks you back. A shadow streaks across the sky, descending at high speed.

You turn just in time to see a figure land in front of you, kicking up dust upon impact.

An array of yellow, blue and back filled your vision, toned muscles flexing between the tight material of a suit.

You recognize the stance immediately. A fighter. Interesting.

“You must be the problem everyone’s freaking out about,” he says, arms crossed. His tone isn’t immediately hostile—more wary than anything.

You grin, rolling your shoulders. “Depends. You here to challenge me?”

The guy blinks, visibly thrown off. “Uh, not exactly.”

You frown. “Shame. I was hoping someone here would be worth my time.”

Despite yourself, you’re intrigued. He’s strong—you can sense it. Not nearly Saiyan strong, of course, but there’s something different about him. Something… familiar.

He studies you just as intently, gaze flicking between your tattered armor, your battle-worn knuckles, and—most notably—the towering mass of thick hair atop your head.

His lips part slightly, like he’s about to say something, but he hesitates.

“I’m Invincible,” he offers instead.

You snort. “Bit cocky, don’t you think?”

He sighs. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

A beat of silence. Neither of you moves.

Then, cautiously, he gestures toward the chaos surrounding you. “Look, I don’t want to fight you.”

“That makes one of us,” you say, cracking your knuckles.

Mark exhales through his nose, clearly trying to be patient. “Seriously, can we just… talk?” He gestures at the wreckage, the police, the frightened civilians peeking from behind cover.

“You’re obviously not from around here, and you seem kinda… lost?”

You bristle at the implication. You are not lost. Saiyans do not get lost.

But.

Well.

You don’t exactly know where you are, and it’s slightly concerning that your ship is currently a pile of molten scrap metal.

“…Fine.” You roll your eyes, shoving your hands into the tattered remains of your belt. “But if this is a trap, I’m breaking every bone in your body.”

Mark exhales in relief, though the corner of his mouth quirks upward. “Noted,” he mutters. Then, more amused than he probably should be: “You always this dramatic?”

You smirk. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

His lips twitch, as if suppressing a laugh. Instead, he just shakes his head and gestures for you to follow.

You crack your neck, glance at the still-stunned humans, and grin.

Let’s see where this goes.

••••

You hate this place.

It smells like sterilization and fear, the kind of artificially clean air that makes your skin itch.

The walls are a cold, metallic gray, pulsing with dim overhead lights. The whole facility hums with electricity, the kind that suggests they have restraints for things stronger than humans.

And the way they’re looking at you? Like you’re a specimen in a cage? You really, really don’t like that.

You sit in a metal chair bolted to the floor, arms crossed, one leg bouncing slightly as you stare at the wrinkled man in front of you.

His name is Cecil. You’ve already decided you don’t like him.

For the past ten minutes, he’s been droning on, asking questions about your species, your ship, your intentions—like you owe him answers.

You’ve made a game of not responding, watching his patience wear thin.

“You’re really not gonna talk?” he asks, finally, voice dry as dust.

You smirk. “Why would I answer to someone who can’t even fly?”

Cecil’s face twitches. Across the room, Mark—Invincible, as he insists on being called—snorts.

He tries to smother his laugh, pressing his lips together, but you see the amusement flickering in his eyes.

Cecil doesn’t react beyond a slow exhale through his nose. He’s good at this, you’ll give him that. A lesser man would’ve cracked by now.

“I’ll be honest,” he continues. “You’re not our first alien visitor, and you probably won’t be our last. But if you’re planning to cause problems—”

You lean forward, resting your elbows on the table, flashing him a slow, sharp grin. “I am the problem,” you say, voice dripping with amusement.

“And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

The silence that follows is delicious.

Mark shifts slightly. You don’t need to look at him to feel the tension in his shoulders, the way his body tenses like he’s preparing for you to lash out again.

You’re not going to—yet—but the fact that he thinks you might is amusing.

Cecil just sighs and rubs his temple. “Get her out of my sight.”

You stand, stretching with a dramatic groan.

“Finally. This room smells like weakness.”

One of the armed guards by the door stiffens at that, knuckles whitening on his weapon. You give him a slow, pointed grin before turning away.

Mark steps beside you, shaking his head. “You’re so charming,” he mutters, voice laced with dry amusement.

You flash him a smirk. “I try.”

He gestures toward the exit. “Come on, oh mighty warrior. Let’s get you some fresh air before you pick a fight with the janitor.”

••••

Mark insists you need to learn about Earth.

Assimilate, he says. Blend in.

You think it’s ridiculous. Why should you have to adapt to them? You are superior in every way—stronger, faster, smarter. If anything, they should be learning from you.

But… well. You suppose humoring Mark is preferable to rotting away in that dreadful government facility.

So when he insists on introducing you to “the best thing Earth has to offer,” you allow yourself to be dragged along, arms crossed and skepticism at full capacity.

Which is how you find yourself sitting in a place called Mama Luigi’s Pizza.

The walls are plastered with photographs of grinning humans holding enormous, greasy slices of something that looks like food but definitely doesn’t smell like anything worth eating.

The air is thick with the scent of melted cheese and sizzling dough, mingling with the faint tang of tomato sauce.

Mark places a box in front of you with a dramatic flourish. “Alright, first lesson in being an Earthling, food.”

You narrow your eyes at the offering. The circular dish is sliced into uneven triangles, topped with bubbling golden cheese and a thin layer of something red.

You poke it with a finger. It squishes slightly. “What is this?”

Mark sighs like he was expecting this reaction. “It’s pizza. Just try it.”

You glance at him, then back at the pizza. It doesn’t smell awful, but it looks so… soft.

Your diet consists of meat cooked over an open flame, raw energy rations, and the occasional alien delicacy that most species wouldn’t dare touch.

This? This just looks like melted goo on soggy bread.

“Do humans consume nothing of nutritional value?” you ask, lifting one of the slices and examining it like it might try to escape. “How does this pathetic excuse for sustenance fuel you?”

Mark groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not always about nutrition. Sometimes it's about taste.”

You snort. “Taste is secondary to power.”

“Okay, Y/n,” Mark deadpans. “Just take a bite.”

You sniff it warily, then, with great reluctance, sink your teeth into the gooey mess.

The moment the flavors hit your tongue, your brain short-circuits.

Salty, savory cheese. Rich, tangy sauce. The warm, crispy-yet-doughy crust. Your taste buds—so accustomed to the harsh, metallic tang of survival rations—practically explode.

You don’t mean to make a noise, but something between a hum and a low growl of approval rumbles in your throat.

Your grip on the slice tightens, fingers flexing instinctively.

Mark watches with interest as your pupils dilate. “...Well?” he prompts, smirking.

You don’t answer. You can’t. Instead, you devour the rest of the slice in two bites, grab another, and tear into it like a starving beast.

Mark blinks. “Oh. Oh wow.”

The next few minutes are a blur. The pizza—this godly, divine creation—is disappearing at an alarming rate.

You don’t pace yourself.

You don’t breathe.

You just consume.

Mark leans back in his chair, watching in a mixture of horror and awe. “Uh, you do know you’re supposed to chew, right?”

You ignore him, grabbing another slice, cheese stretching between your fingers.

Mark’s brows shoot up. “Are you—oh my god, are you actually growling?”

You pause mid-bite, realizing that yes, you are growling—a low, territorial rumble vibrating from your chest. Your muscles are coiled, posture slightly hunched as if guarding your prize.

You force yourself to relax, clearing your throat. “Instinct,” you say, voice muffled around your mouthful. “Saiyan biology.”

Mark stares at you.

Then at the emptying box.

Then back at you.

“That’s terrifying.”

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, completely unbothered. “It is efficient.”

Mark gestures to the now nearly empty pizza box. “That was supposed to be for both of us.”

You glance at the single, lonely slice remaining in the box, then at Mark. Then back at the slice.

You grab it.

“HEY!”

You take an exaggerated bite, chewing slowly, making direct eye contact with him as you do.

Mark groans, slumping back in his seat. “I cannot believe I just witnessed a Saiyan discovering pizza.”

You swallow and grin. “Alright.” You gesture to the crumbs and grease-stained box. “This planet might have some value after all.”

••••

Mark insists you need to learn human customs if you're going to stay on Earth.

You think human customs are stupid.

“Just try to blend in,” Mark says as he leads you down a crowded city street, his voice already laced with exhaustion. “No throwing cars, no threatening people, and for the love of God, no fighting the barista.”

You scoff, ruffling your hair in annoyance. “If this barista dares disrespect me, they’ll have earned the beating.”

Mark sighs. “I’m begging you to be normal for five minutes.”

You don’t dignify that with a response.

The place Mark drags you to is small and cramped, filled with the scent of something bitter and the low hum of human chatter. Coffee shop, he calls it. You call it a waste of time.

The line moves painfully slow. You tap your foot impatiently, arms crossed, eyes scanning the ridiculous menu full of nonsense words like macchiato and venti.

“These names are stupid.”

Mark pinches the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to understand them. Just order something.”

Finally, you reach the front. A young man stands behind the counter, looking more exhausted than Mark. His uniform is wrinkled, his expression blank.

He sighs. “What can I get you?”

You lift your chin. “Your strongest drink.”

The barista barely reacts. “Do you want that hot or iced?”

You narrow your eyes. “Is there a difference?”

Mark nudges your side. “Just say hot.”

You roll your eyes. “Hot, then.”

The barista punches something into his register. “Name for the order?”

You blink. “Why do you need my name?”

“It’s so we can call it when your drink is ready.”

You frown. “You mean I have to wait?”

The barista, clearly dead inside, just blinks at you. “Yes?”

You lean forward slightly. “Do you know who I am?”

Mark audibly groans.

The barista, now vaguely alarmed, glances at Mark for guidance. Mark shoots him an apologetic look before turning to you, voice dangerously close to pleading. “Just give him your name and be cool.”

You stare at the barista. The barista stares back. Then, slowly, you smirk. “Fine. My name is Y/N the Warmonger.”

Mark visibly deflates.

The barista, now beyond caring, just types something into the register. “That’ll be $4.75.”

You blink. “That will be what?”

“Four dollars and seventy-five cents.”

Mark pulls out a small green rectangle and hands it over before you can start breaking things. “I got it.”

You watch as the barista takes the rectangle, swipes it through a strange machine, and hands it back.

You lean over, voice low. “Did he just steal from you?”

Mark drags a hand down his face. “That’s how money works.”

“Money is a scam.”

Mark gestures for you to step aside as the next customer moves forward. “Welcome to capitalism.”

You huff, tapping your fingers against the counter as you wait. “How long does this process take?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

Mark shrugs. “How busy they are.”

You look around. There are only three other people waiting. “This is pathetic.”

“Do you have to say everything you think out loud?”

“Yes, I do.”

Mark stares at you for a long moment, then sighs. “Just… stand here and don’t start a fight.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “I won’t start a fight.”

Mark looks at you like he doesn’t believe you at all.

Minutes pass. The baristas move at a snail’s pace, making drinks with far more effort than seems necessary.

Your patience—what little exists—wears thin.

Finally, someone calls, “Y/N the Warmonger?”

You smirk, stepping forward. “Ah, finally.”

The barista places a small cup on the counter.

You eye it. “That’s it?”

Mark claps a hand over his face. “Please don’t—”

You grab the cup and inspect it. It’s small—far smaller than you expected. And it’s hot, heat seeping through the flimsy material. You narrow your eyes at the tiny opening in the lid. “This is ridiculous.”

Mark nudges your arm. “Just take a sip.”

You do.

And immediately gag.

Mark snorts. “Not a fan?”

You shove the cup back at him, wiping your tongue on your sleeve. “It tastes like burnt dirt.”

“That’s coffee.”

“Why do humans drink this?”

Mark shrugs, taking a sip of his own drink. “Some of us like suffering.”

You glare at the cup. “This explains so much.”

Mark is laughing now, shaking his head. “Okay, maybe coffee isn’t your thing.”

You sneer at the cup as if it personally offended you. “I will destroy this establishment.”

Mark grabs your arm. “We are leaving.”

••••

Mark should’ve known better than to mention Halloween in passing.

The moment the words leave his mouth, you stop walking, whip around, and grab his shoulders so fast he barely has time to react.

"Wait, wait, wait—" Your grip tightens, eyes burning with intensity. "So you’re telling me there’s a day—a whole day—where I can wear anything I want, and people just… give me things?"

Mark blinks, looking mildly concerned for his well-being. "Uh… yeah? That’s… basically Halloween."

Your expression is deadly serious. "This is the best planet in the universe."

Mark sighs, prying your fingers off his shoulders. "You really don’t need to be this dramatic."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "I absolutely do. This is groundbreaking information, Mark. Do you understand how insane this sounds? Where I’m from, if you want something, you take it—or you beat someone into the ground until they hand it over."

"Yeah, we call that robbery," Mark mutters.

You ignore him. "But this? This is a sanctioned event?"

He shrugs. "Pretty much. Kids dress up, go door to door, and get candy."

Your head tilts. "Candy?"

Mark pauses, realizing something horrifying. "Wait. You’ve never had candy before?"

You raise a brow. "Should I have?"

Mark grabs you hand, a new found conviction stirring his heart. "Okay, new plan. We are absolutely fixing this."

The next thing you know, you’re standing in the middle of a store filled with costumes.

Mark drags you through the aisles, dodging plastic skeletons, fake cobwebs, and a disturbing number of severed limbs. You pick up a dismembered hand, inspecting it with mild curiosity.

"Humans celebrate death?" you ask, turning it over in your palm.

Mark huffs a laugh. "Kinda. Halloween’s all about spooky stuff. Ghosts, monsters, horror movies—"

"Horror movies?" you echo, dropping the fake hand.

"Yeah, it's filled with things that's supposed to be scary—like, creepy stories, jump scares, murder-y villains—"

Your eyes light up. "You have a murder holiday?"

Mark sighs, rubbing his temple. "That’s not—never mind. Just pick out a costume."

You survey the wall of options, eyes scanning the bizarre selection.

"What’s a ‘sexy nurse’?"

Mark chokes, face growing warmer. "Not that one!"

You grin, baring sharp canines. "Ohhh, so it's not just a murder holiday."

Mark groans, dragging you toward another aisle. "We’re not doing this."

After an obnoxiously long debate (and Mark vetoing several of your more violent ideas), you finally settle on something appropriately intimidating.

A black cape, sleek armor, and a terrifying mask with glowing red eyes.

Mark squints at the tag. "Darth Vader?"

You tilt your head. "This man—he was a warrior, yes?"

"Uh… kinda?" Mark hesitates. "More like an evil space dictator."

You grin. "So, a king."

Mark sighs. "I feel like I should stop you, but… honestly? You’re weirdly perfect for this."

You flick the cape over your shoulder, nodding in approval. "Yes. Lord Vader is ready to conquer this...Halloween."

Mark pinches the bridge of his nose. "Please don’t start referring to yourself in the third person."

You smirk, already deep in character. "Lord Vader does as he pleases."

Mark groans.

Hours later, you’re stalking the streets with a plastic skull bucket (Mark refused to let you carry an actual skull), and your energy is through the roof.

"Look at them, Mark!" You gesture wildly at the groups of costumed children. "They fear me!"

"They don’t," Mark corrects. "They think you’re cosplaying."

You scoff. "They should fear me."

"That's called fear mongering."

You ignore him, marching up to a door and pounding on it like you’re issuing a challenge.

A kindly old woman answers, beaming. "Oh, what a lovely costume! And who are you supposed to be, dear?"

You puff out your chest. "I am Lord Vader! Kneel before me, mortal!"

Mark, standing behind you, mutters, "I can't do this."

The woman chuckles, unbothered, and drops a handful of candy into your bucket. "Well, Lord Vader, enjoy your treats!"

You stare down at the loot. Then at Mark. Then back at the candy.

Your voice drops to a whisper. "It worked."

Mark claps a hand on your shoulder, smiling lightly at the child like wonder in your expression. "Welcome to Halloween."

••••

Mark fascinates you.

You don’t know when it happened, or how, but somewhere between the endless sparring matches, the insufferable Earth lessons, and the way he constantly calls you out on your arrogance, you started… caring.

It’s infuriating.

He’s not a Saiyan. He’s soft. Idealistic.

Sentimental in a way that would get him killed on any real battlefield. Yet, he doesn’t break. No matter how many times he's knocked down, he always gets back up.

He’s stubborn. Stupidly determined. And worse—so much worse—he’s kind.

And every time he smiles at you, your stomach does this weird thing that you refuse to acknowledge.

You blame it on Earth’s atmosphere.

You’re sitting on the edge of a rooftop, the city sprawled out beneath you, golden from the streetlights. It’s late—too late—but neither of you seems particularly eager to leave.

Mark leans back on his hands, staring up at the stars. “Y’know, I used to think I was strong.”

You snort, swinging your legs over the ledge. “Used to?”

He gives you a sideways glance. “Yeah, and then I met you.”

You smirk. “Ah. A humbling experience, I’m sure.”

Mark groans. “I hate that you’re so smug about it.”

“But I earned the right to be smug,” you counter, grinning. “Besides, I’m doing you a favor. You should thank me for showing you how weak you are.”

Mark scoffs. “Oh yeah, thanks so much, Your Highness. I love getting my ass kicked on a regular basis.”

You shrug. “You should. It builds character.”

Mark huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “You love messing with me, don’t you?”

You tilt your head. “Of course.”

“Why?”

You blink. The question catches you off guard.

Mark watches you expectantly, but there’s something different about the way he’s looking at you—less irritated, more curious.

You feel a strange warmth creeping up your neck.

You click your tongue. “Because you react.”

His brows furrow. “What?”

You wave a hand at him. “Most beings—weaklings—would just fear me, but you? You get angry. You argue. You fight back.” You smirk. “It’s entertaining.”

Mark shakes his head, exasperated but smiling. “You are so weird.”

You huff, crossing your arms. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He leans back again, gaze shifting to the sky. “It’s not.”

Something in your chest tightens.

You don’t like the feeling.

The next time you spar, it’s different.

You’ve fought Mark dozens of times now, and it’s usually predictable. You win. He loses. He gets slightly better each time, but the outcome never really changes.

Except… today, he lasts longer.

His movements are sharper, more controlled. His dodges are precise. His counters actually make you work.

You grin, blood pumping, excitement thrumming under your skin.

“Finally,” you breathe, dodging a punch by a hair. “I was starting to think you’d never improve.”

Mark exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders. “Yeah, well, I’ve had a very aggressive training partner.”

You smirk, throwing a kick that he barely manages to block. “And look at you now! Almost respectable.”

“Almost?”

You grin. “Let’s see if you can prove me wrong.”

He lunges again, and for the first time, you let yourself enjoy it—not just the fight, but him. The way he moves. The way he refuses to back down. The way he looks at you, like he’s actually enjoying himself too.

And then he smiles.

Not a smirk, not a cocky grin, but a real smile. Bright. Genuine.

And something in your stomach flips.

You stumble.

Not much—barely a misstep—but enough. Mark seizes the opportunity, slamming into you with enough force to send you skidding backward.

You catch yourself before you hit the ground, flipping midair and landing in a crouch. Your heart is pounding—not from the fight, but from the fact that you hesitated.

You never hesitate.

Mark grins, slightly out of breath. “Hey, did I actually get you just now?”

Your fingers twitch. You force your expression back to neutral. “No.”

Mark raises a brow. “Are you sure?”

You glare. “Absolutely.”

He smirks. “You totally hesitated.”

You stand up, rolling your shoulders. “You wish.”

Mark chuckles. “Oh, I know I did.”

You hate that he’s right.

You hate that you let him be right.

And most of all…

You hate that your stomach does that thing again.

••••

You don’t care about Earth.

That’s what you’ve told yourself, over and over again, ever since you crash-landed on this ridiculous planet full of weaklings. You don’t care about its people, its customs, or its foolish attachment to peace.

But then someone hurts Mark.

And suddenly, none of that matters.

It happens fast.

One moment, you’re watching him trade blows with some costumed idiot—some third-rate, no-name waste of oxygen who dares to think they can beat him.

And then—

Mark hesitates. Just for a second.

And in that second, the bastard slams a fist straight into his ribs with enough force to send him crashing through a building.

Your vision goes red.

Your usual smugness—your sharp, teasing quips—vanish. There's no room for anything but pure, feral rage.

You don’t think.

You react.

The air around you crackles as you launch yourself forward, faster than the fool can process. One second, they’re standing there, smug over landing a hit on Mark—

The next, you have them by the throat.

Their eyes widen, hands clawing at yours, feet kicking uselessly in the air. You squeeze, just enough to make them panic.

“You think you’re strong?” Your voice is low, almost a growl, vibrating with barely restrained fury. “You think you can just touch him?”

They make a choked noise, eyes bulging. You hate looking at them. This weak, insignificant thing that had the audacity to harm what’s yours.

Your grip tightens. The building behind you trembles from the sheer force of your energy surging outward. Hair flickering between its normal color and golden for a split second.

Mark coughs somewhere in the rubble. "Y/N—"

Your head snaps toward the sound. He’s trying to push himself up, one arm wrapped around his ribs, blood smeared across his cheek.

He’s looking at you now, eyes wide, expression torn between disbelief and something else—something softer.

You don’t like it.

You scowl, then turn back to your prey. You could end this fight right now. Just a little more pressure, and they’d be nothing but a crumpled mess of bone and flesh.

But Mark—damn him—is still watching.

And for some stupid reason, you care about what he sees.

With a growl, you throw the bastard across the street. Their body smashes through a lamppost before skidding to a limp halt. You don’t bother checking if they get up. If they know what’s good for them, they won’t.

The moment they’re gone, you stalk over to Mark, who is still gawking at you.

“Did you just—”

"Shut up," you snap, grabbing his wrist and yanking him to his feet.

He stumbles slightly, and you automatically shift to steady him, one hand gripping his forearm.

He’s warm under your fingers, his breath still uneven from the fight. His eyes lock onto yours, searching.

Your jaw tightens. "If you die, I’ll be very pissed off."

Mark blinks, then—despite the blood on his lip, despite the bruises already blooming across his skin—he grins.

“You care about me,” he says, tone dripping with amusement.

Your eye twitches.

"You care about me," he repeats, sing-song, like he’s delighted about it.

You shove him, hard enough to make him stumble back. "I will end you."

Mark just laughs, wiping blood from his mouth. "Yeah, sure. Right after you finish avenging my honor."

You hate him. You hate that he’s right. You hate that you let yourself care.

And most of all—

You hate the way your stomach flips when he looks at you like that.

••••

It’s late—too late for anyone else to be awake—but you don’t sleep much. Not like humans do.

So you sit alone on the edge of his rooftop, arms resting on your knees, staring up at the sky. The stars above are bright tonight, scattered across the inky black like shattered glass.

They stretch endlessly, far beyond Earth, far beyond this tiny planet with its weak gravity and fragile people.

Somewhere out there, a long time ago, there was a place you should have called home.

But Planet Vegeta is gone.

You don’t remember it. You were too young when it was destroyed, sent away before the blast could reach you. By the time you were old enough to ask questions, there was nothing left to return to—just empty space where your people once stood.

You should be used to it by now.

But some nights—like this one—your chest feels hollow.

The soft thud of footsteps behind you barely registers. You already know who it is.

Mark drops down beside you, not saying anything at first, just watching the sky with you.

The silence stretches between you, comfortable in a way you wouldn’t have expected months ago.

Then, quietly, he asks, “You ever think about going back?”

You exhale slowly, gaze never leaving the stars. “Not really an option.”

Mark tilts his head. “Why not?”

Your fingers clench slightly. “Because there’s nothing to go back to.”

His expression shifts. "Oh."

You don’t like the pity in his voice. You shoot him a sharp glance. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t lose my planet—I never had it to begin with.”

Mark studies you, his expression unreadable. "Still. That’s… a lot."

You scoff. "I manage."

Silence.

Then, softly—“Then maybe Earth is your home now.”

Your head snaps toward him, expecting mockery, but there’s none. No teasing, no sarcasm—just sincerity. Just Mark.

He looks at you like it’s an obvious answer, like it doesn’t matter that you’re not human, that you don’t belong here.

For the first time, you don’t scoff.

“…Maybe.”

••••

Mark is fidgeting.

You’ve been watching him shift awkwardly in place for the past two minutes, and you can’t decide whether you’re more entertained or secondhand embarrassed.

His hands keep clenching at his sides, like he can’t decide if he wants to put them in his pockets, cross his arms, or just gesture wildly. He rubs the back of his neck so much that you’re convinced he might actually rub his skin raw. And the way he’s shifting his weight from foot to foot?

Pathetic. Yet...cute.

Your brow arches. “Are you gonna say something, or are you just gonna stand there looking constipated?”

Mark flinches like you just punched him in the gut. “I—I have something I need to tell you.”

You cross your arms, tilting your head, unimpressed. “Clearly.”

He takes a deep breath, like that might somehow help him, then lets it out in a rush of air that makes him seem even more stressed.

His shoulders are too tense, his expression too strained, and his heartbeat—oh, his heartbeat is practically hammering through his chest. Is he nervous?

He’s never like this during fights. Even when he’s getting thrown through buildings, he usually keeps his cool, and pushing through with sheer stubbornness. But right now?

Mark looks like he might actually pass out.

“So, uh…” He drags a hand down his face, sighing. “I think I—no, I know I—uh—”

Your smirk widens. You can’t help it. “Spit it out, Invincible.”

That seems to make it worse. He groans, eyes squeezing shut, head tilting back like he’s begging the universe for patience.

Then, he just blurts it out.

“I like you, okay? A lot. A lot more than normal, And I know you probably think I’m beneath you, but—”

You don’t think.

You act.

Before he can finish whatever self-deprecating nonsense he was about to say, you grab the front of his suit and yank him forward, crashing your lips against his.

It’s instinct. It’s reaction. It’s the only thing you can do when faced with something that makes your chest feel tight.

For a second, he freezes.

Then, he melts into it.

His lips are warm, slightly chapped, and he’s so still. You realize he’s holding his breath, and maybe you are too. The world around you fades into nothing, like the only thing anchoring you to reality is the heat of his mouth against yours.

And then it’s over.

You pull back so fast you nearly trip over your own feet, letting go of his shirt like it just burned you. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your face—damn it, why does your face feel hot?

You clench your fists, resisting the urge to cover your mouth, your brain screaming at you for what you just did.

Mark just… stares.

His mouth is slightly open, his eyebrows raised, his lips still parted like he’s still processing what just happened. There’s a deep flush creeping up his neck, painting his ears red, but—he’s not speaking.

Oh, universe.

Why isn’t he speaking?

Panic creeps up your spine like a slow-burning fire. You shouldn’t have done that. What if you—what if he—

“…You kissed me.” His voice is dazed, barely more than a whisper, and that’s when you snap.

You stiffen, looking anywhere but at him. “You were—talking too much.”

Slowly—too slowly—something shifts in his expression. The stunned silence fades, melting into something smug. His lips curl at the edges, the flush on his cheeks still present but no longer uncertain. It’s a look of pure, unfiltered victory.

His voice is annoyingly triumphant. “You like me.”

Your entire body locks up.

“No,” you say immediately.

Mark steps closer. “You so do.”

“I don’t,” you insist, but the way you’re backing up is not helping your case.

Mark follows, his confidence growing with every second. “You totally do. Oh my god.” He drags a hand down his face, but it’s not exasperation—it’s exhilaration. “I knew it.”

“You don’t know anything,” you mutter, face burning.

He grins. “You are so cute right now.”

Your hands clench into fists. “I will end you.”

“Oh, sure,” he teases. “But not before I kiss you again.”

You whip around so fast your hair nearly smacks him in the face. “I hate you.”

He has the audacity to laugh. A full, bright, obnoxiously victorious laugh.

“No, you don’t.”

Your mouth opens—probably to snap something back—but Mark just leans in, smirking.

“If it makes you feel better,” he muses, “I really enjoyed it.”

You go completely still, face burning impossibly warmer.

Mark grins wider, “And I know you enjoyed it too.”

Your eye twitches.

He laughs again, and you hate how much you don’t hate the sound of it.

[starshimmering]

Their beef is legendary

[starshimmering]

[starshimmering]

pt. 1 (1-10)

Ignore the fact I’ve been gone for 2-3 years 👀…

I’ve been doing well on Tik Tok, and have decided to make a return! I’m still mostly the same, but improved at the same time! For now, take a comic I’ve been working on in my spare time, on my current hyper fixation, Poppy Playtime! Be aware I still hold my heart with Undertale, for it’s still my favorite fandom of all time, but have developed some other interests as well! Hope you enjoy this, though I’m not used to making legit comics, but it’s good practice in case it’s a way on how I wanna pursue an art career! This comic doesn’t really have an official title yet.

Also keep in mind Angel is me, not an OC, but a self insert. In other words, a fictional, imaginary version of myself that acquires a similar appearance and personality as me.

I’m currently at frame 25 but this is from 1-10

[starshimmering]

Yoruichi Shihouin X Male Reader

Yoruichi general attitude in your relationship is purely dependent on what type of person you are. If you’re shy and reserved, she will tease the shit out of you. If you’re more level headed and down to earth chances are she won’t bother teasing you, but that doesn’t mean she won’t try just to see how you respond.

From an outside perspective it may seem like she’s the one wearing the pants in your relationship, but behind closed doors it’s more half and half. Yes, she comes off as domineering every now and then when you’re with others, but that’s more or less just to keep up appearances. Being the one in control in your relationship is just too much work.

This woman LOVES! TO! CUDDLE!

If either of you come home after a long, arduous mission expect to be giving or receiving hugs and kisses galore. Best thing after a long day is just to let her hair down and lay on the couch with her head on your chest while you both watch a movie or something. No talking though, the sound of your heartbeat plus the TV helps her relax. She also enjoys switching to her cat form just to make biscuits on your chest.

She’s a glutton, it’s almost terrifying to see how much Yoruichi can put away. Take her out to a buffet, wait 15 minutes and there will be a stack of plates and bowls threatening to fall over with the slightest breeze. I’d recommend investing in a flyswatter because she’s definitely type to steal food off your plate. You could be eating the same thing as her and she’ll still reach over and grab something before shoving it in her mouth.

If there’s anything I’ve learned from woman, it’s that food tastes better when it’s coming off YOUR plate.

She won’t say it in front of anyone else, but when you’re out on dangerous missions Yoruichi does worry about you. She doesn’t see you as weak, but going into a fight thinking you’re untouchable is just plain stupid. If you come home with a new scar she’ll ask how you got it while gently running her fingers over the wound. If you come back in a bad state though expect to get a lightning fast brain duster to the back of your head while being lectured about how you need to be more careful.

Pretty kitty wants all the pets, give her as many as you can spare.

[starshimmering]

What Now? | Poppy Playtime x Reader

Fandom: Poppy Playtime

Genres: Sad, Uplifting, Alternate Universe

Word Count: 1,786

Synopsis: You defeated the Prototype and managed to escape with both the children and the toys you saved. All of you escaped through the front doors before the factory exploded. As you all watch the factory slowly burn, one thought came to your minds: what now?

————————————————————————

The entire factory of Playtime Co. erupted like a volcano. Plumbing fire and smoke through the air, scorching winds roared forward along with clouds of smoke. Y/N ducked as hot air rushed over you. Some of the mini Critters and Huggies screamed from behind their bigger siblings. The roaring explosion tore through yours and everyone’s ear drums. A black fog of noxious smoke hung in the air.

Y/N shifted your gaze back at the factory. Peering through the building that was now engulfed in flames. Poppy was perched on your shoulder, her small frame contrasting with the explosive display in front of you; her eyes fixed into the burning building with a frown and clinging close to your neck. Kissy Missy stood beside you as she too watched the Play Co. factory burn ablaze.

Fragmented memories flashed in your mind as you watched the factory you thought you knew burn. All the employees you worked with during your time working there, the innocent people you befriended; the many laughs you shared with them. Knowing that they’re all gone and you’ll never get to see them again. It broke your heart.

You couldn’t find your employees and saved them.

But at least you saved all the toys and the children.

Y/N frowned as you stared straight ahead. No, you were wrong. Some of them couldn’t be saved. There were still hundreds of small toys in that factory, but you weren’t able to round any up. And of course, a much more notable absence was prominent. Ollie had betrayed you and Poppy. They turned out to be another splinter of The Prototype’s mimicry, and had died along with it.

Dogday watched beside you to your right. Bobby Bearhug, Craftycorn, Bubbaphant, Hoppy Hopscotch, Kickin, and Picky gaze at the dancing flames behind their leader. Doey observed the flaming factory with wide eyes, his giant hand placed over his chest. Boxy Boo was standing a little far from the others, keeping a safe distance from the group while watching their hell of a prison burn. Yarnaby watched the illuminating sight beside Boxy with a tilt of his head.

Mrs. Delight stood quietly next to Huggy. Her bandaged face is testament to the struggles she had endured. The absence of Barb weighed heavily in the air, a reminder of the bond they had shared amidst ten years of being alone. With a heavy heart, Mrs. Delight had relinquished the weapon, her decision fueled by the promise of freedom from the factory's oppressive walls. The memory of Y/N’s sincere apologies echoed in her mind; she had brushed them off, knowing that accidents happen in such a frantic environment.

But the pain in her back, a lingering reminder of the door that had slammed down upon her, was a constant companion. A supportive brace encircled her torso, a symbol of both her resilience and the trials she faced. Yet her spirit remained unbroken as she contemplated the future that awaited her outside those grim confines.

Mommy situated beside Mrs. Delight to the left. One of her arms had been ripped off, and her whole body would’ve been maimed had Y/N not yanked her from the shredder. She decided to help him after that; had she not been saved, she’d have been added to The Prototype’s body. The missing arm was replaced with a new one that Y/N made for her, although it wasn’t pink like the original. The new stretchable arm was black with a red hand (the one she took from Y/N) attached to it.

Catnap watched with saddened wide eyes. Compared to everyone else who knew that the Prototype was insane, Catnap genuinely believed that what he was doing was right. That staying in the factory was better now that the adults were out of the way, but then things kept getting worse and worse. Food became scarce, the factory, with no one to do maintenance, is falling apart. But he continued to cling to that hope that the thing that saved him will continue to protect him.

Then one ex-employee changes everything in one night. The tight control his savior had on his home began to wane and loosen, friends who became traitors joined his side, and yet he clung on to the false hope that his savior will protect him. Only for him to almost kill you too. It is because of the kindness of that ex-employee, revered an angel by the heretics, that he saved him, away from the grasp of the god that just betrayed you in your most vulnerable. It is that same night that the heretics win, his master has fallen, everyone is truly free.

The remains of the factory, a tormenting hell and yet...their home, burns ablaze. The sins of the evil adults cleansed by rightful fire.

But it was still his home.

Huggy was internally satisfied with what he was seeing. Sporting a bandage wrapped around his head, likely a result of an unfortunate encounter with a pipe. Like Kissy, he too was captivated by the Playtime Co. factory set ablaze. For ten years he was imprisoned in that hell hole. Following Leith’s orders with no way of fighting back his command, which extended to the Prototype.

But he didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

He was free.

This feeling extended to the bigger nightmare critters.

Baba Chops never thought this day would come. It was hers and her friends’ greatest dream: her along with every single toy in the factory, marching towards the exit; striding towards freedom that they have longed for decades. She had always thought a day like that would be nothing more than a pipe dream. Oh, how wrong she was. Had it not been for Y/N’s never ending kindness, she wouldn’t have gotten the chance to see the light of day as she is now.

“So…what do we do now?” Hoppy spoke up.

Y/N turned your head when Hoppy asked that. All the toys shifted their gaze towards you. Hope and wonder washed each toy’s countenance that extended to another. You took a deep breath.

“Well, calling a taxi is out of the question. There’s too many of you guys to fit in,” Y/N replied.

Y/N turned your gaze toward a building not too far away from the factory.

“There’s a train over to that station,” Y/N said, pointing at the faraway building. The toys followed the direction to which you pointed. “If we set it right, the tracks should take us to the direction of my home town. Once we reach our stop, we’ll have to walk to make it to my house. We’ll figure out what to do next once we get there.”

Y/N shifted your gaze back at the toys.

“I apologize if my house isn’t what you expected,” Y/N said, rubbing your nape with your hand.

"Don't apologize, Y/N. I'm sure it's not even that bad,” Poppy replied, forming a small smile. Kissy Missy nodded in agreement. “See? Even Kissy agrees with me!”

Dogday also nodded in agreement.

“Agreed. Nothing will ever be as bad as the factory, Angel,” Dogday added, smiling down at you.

Bobby stepped close to you with a happy smile.

“Dogday’s right. We’re all free now and you're here with us! That alone makes things a lot better,” Bobby chimed, her tone laced with genuine enthusiasm.

Y/N turned your head when you heavy thumps drawing close to you. You turned your head to see Doey approaching you.

“And wherever you go.” Doey stops in front of you whilst smiling down at you. “We are with you.”

Hoppy nodded in agreement. “All the way.”

All the toys surrounding you nodded in silent agreement. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the amount of support he was receiving from your friends. You parted your mouth open, as to say something until you paused. The sudden reaction extended to the toys when all of you heard the sound of blaring sirens from far away.

“The police,” Poppy muttered under her breath.

You frantically looked between the train station and the flashing red and blue lights slowly but surely approaching your position.

“Everyone! To the train station, hurry!” Y/N shouted.

Y/N and the group surged toward the train station in a frantic dash for safety. You ran at the forefront as you propelled himself forward, arms pumping with urgency. Poppy was back perching on Kissy’s shoulder. Flanking them were the towering figures of Kissy Missy and Dogday, their immense forms a protective barrier as they cradled a little boy and girl in their arms. Both big and small toys added a whimsical yet desperate element to the scene, each one driven by an instinctual need to escape the authorities looming behind them.

Hoppy Hopscotch and Kickin Chicken sprinted behind the pair with urgency driving their every step. Hoppy cradled two unconscious girls in her arms, their small forms limp and vulnerable, while Kickin carried a little boy who appeared to be still asleep, his head resting against Kickin's feathered chest. Craftycorn, Bobby Bearhug, Picky Piggy, and Bubbaphant chased after them, their hearts pounding with a mix of concern and determination. The strong thumps of Doey’s feet echoed through the air, each clomp resonating like a drumbeat as he followed closely behind. The mini smiling critters, along with the mini Huggies, Scout, and Medic raced alongside the group, each of them pushing their limits. Trying their best to keep up with the fast-paced rescue mission unfolding before them.

Mommy Long Legs stomped heavily on the floor while keeping up the pace with Doey and the others. Bunzo Bunny clung tightly to her back, his heart racing as he fought to maintain his balance, every jolt threatening to send him tumbling off. PJ Pug-a-Pillar darted alongside them, his agile movements allowing him to nimbly speed past the spider toy. Yarnaby and Pianosaurus raced together behind the frantic trio, their breaths coming in quick gasps as they pushed themselves to escape the looming danger. The little nightmare critters found a precarious refuge on the vibrant, rainbow-furred back of the toy animal, clutching desperately as the world around them blurred with speed. Huggy and the bigger nightmare critters charged at the rear of the group, their determination evident as he matched strides with Cat-Bee and Candy Cat.

Mrs. Delight was also running at the rear close to Huggy. She pumped her arms and kicked her legs as she trailed after the others to the train station.

You didn’t know what future will be from here on out. But you and the toys you’ve adopted will face it.

Together.

[starshimmering]

No one else but you.

[starshimmering]

Let’s have one more round with CatNap and DogDay. But FAIR WARNING first!

TikTok people really wanted a third part, and I was able to give them a small afterword ☺️ that concludes the comic! I’ll probably do more with them, but just cartoon versions nzjzjd they’re cozier tbh

If you want a full experience with music, I advise you check out my tt account (thecactae on TikTok); I had to cut it a little bit due to the max slides per post on tumblr is 10 :(

Hope you liked it! Toodles!!☁️

Part 1

Part 2

[starshimmering]

‼️MAJOR warning‼️

Comic contains: upsetting themes, blood, general horror

🌙Sitting Alone. (2/2)

And part two is here! Hope you enjoyed 🤭

I think I’ll do more comics with Critters gang but it shall be more.. lighthearted 🌙

Toodles!

Part 1

Afterword⭐️(read after part 2)

[starshimmering]

☀️All By Yourself (1/2)

I was very excited about the Chapter 3 of poppy playtime and I really liked it ☺️ so here’s a lil comic!!

They’re platonic here btw! I feel more comfortable shipping the cartoon versions, if anything. ⭐️

Part 2!

Afterword⭐️

[starshimmering]

DDLC poly relationship

It was my first time writing something like this so I hope I did alright

⊱ you often have library dates but even more often you just borrow a book form library and have your date in home

⊱ on your home dates Yuri would make tea and Natsuki would sometimes make cupcakes

⊱ in facts Natsuki teaches all of you how to bake good cupcakes which often looks like this: Monika is paying attention, Yuri is panicking because she think she messed up, Sayori eats ingredients, Natsuki is trying to teach while scolding Sayori and you're doing your things

⊱ you also have some more fun dates, like going to amusement park or at the beach if it's summer or you go ice-skating when it's winter

⊱ Yuri is calm one in your relationship and always get you all out of trouble, and she also gives you amazing book reviews you all love when she rambles without realizing it

"and so that's why I think character was completely ruined in that book. ... Oh wait, was I rambling again?! I'm so sorry..."

"Don't worry Yuri, we all appreciate it! Can you borrow me this book? It sounds interesting!"

⊱ Natsuki is... well still her usual self, classic tsundere but that doesn't mean she doesn't get affectionate, she just expresses it secretly

"Are you really gonna cuddle again?! That's 3rd time today!"

"Do you want to join us?"

"... Make some space for me"

⊱ Sayori is really just a sunshine in your relationship, it's her who gives you the most date ideas, but she can have her down moments too...

"Sayori, are you okay? I heard you crying..."

"Don't worry about it YN! I'm all alrighty!"

"I know you're not..."

⊱ and finally Monika is the one who also get you out of trouble when Yuri can't, she's in overall very supportive of all of you

⊱ she also works hard to make Yuri believe in herself more

⊱ and she somehow always knows when someone gives one of you hard time

"Hey Natsuki, you know I don't like to bring it up but... did your dad gave you some trouble lately?"

"Wha-?! Ehh... nothing hides from you, does it?"

[starshimmering]

Masked Hero

PAIRING: Jane/Zhu/Yanagi x Male Reader (Romantic) (Separate)

SUMMARY: They fall for a vigilante!

Jane didn’t expect to fall in love with anyone, let alone a civilian. You were just an ordinary man, who worked an honest job, and had no business with crime. Knowing the types of enemies she’s made, Jane wouldn’t want to push those dangers onto you.

But alas, her heart wins out. She can’t seem to stop crushing on you! Your kind heart as you help the children and elderly. Your strength and courage to take on challenges and responsibilities head on. And your intelligence that helped you best solve each problem. She couldn’t help but admire.

But Jane couldn’t spend time admiring you forever. Her boss tasked her with infiltrating another gang. Her goal was simple: earn their trust and then take down the boss. Jane’s mission, however, was intercepted by an unknown man; clearly a vigilante of sorts. He took down the gang in record time, all while only being hit once.

Seems the injury was pretty bad though. After detaining all the criminals he crouched over in pain. Jane was intrigued by the hero, and although sure that he’d get reprimanded for doing police work, she saw a useful asset to New Eridu.

She waltzed over, a charismatic smile plastered on her face. “Hello. I believe we been introduced.” The man, who was hunched over in pain, quickly shot up and made a brake for an exit. Jane was faster though.

He tumbled down on ground after a harsh kick from Jane. She crouched down beside him. “You seem to know I’m PubSec, which is confidential. You’re also trying to hide your identity.” She grabbed a nearby med kit and began bandaging up the man.

He looked at her silently before handing Jane her glasses. She froze in shock. “How did you—?”

“You left them at my shop the last time you were there.” He finally spoke.

Jane looked at the man in bewilderment, a small blush adorning her face.

“(Y/N)?”

Zhu knew fairly quickly what she felt for you. A fellow farmer who grew strawberries, you were always on her mind. She was happy to have someone to talk about more personal things; ever since her ex-boss turned into an ethereal, Zhu felt the weight of trust she put in others wavering.

That trust was gradually restored thanks to her friends and her crush. The sweet actions of everyone helped Zhu realize that just because one person let her down doesn’t mean everyone else will; though her suspicions were raised when she saw your advanced capabilities in strength and endurance.

Around that time word of a vigilante was out and about. While the masked man did help solve crime for PubSec, it was still illegal and had to be dealt with. Zhu was tasked with finding him.

After staying on his tail for a week’s time she finally caught him in an alleyway. What she didn’t expect was to see him injured from head to toe. Zhu was aware he took on a pretty big gang, who was a major thorn in PubSec’s side. And even though she was supposed to arrest the vigilante, she couldn’t help but feel that such a punishment wasn’t fair.

“I have you surrounded. Put your hands up and get down on the ground.” Zhu commanded the vigilante. He did as instructed while in immense pain.

She walked towards him and cuffed the man before finally breathing out a sigh. “Let’s get you to a hospital.” She urged him to lean on her, but the man barely moved a muscle. The way he hanged his head down made it clear as day that he felt defeated.

“Come on! We’ve got to get you some help.”

“…Will you arrest me?” He asked, though his voice was heavily muffled. Both by his mask and the painful grunts he made.

“No. I can’t agree with you getting arrested for doing a good deed. But you still acted out against the law.” Zhu finally made it towards a bus stop and gently sat the vigilante down on the bench. She accompanied him, sniffing the air around him.

“What’s my punishment, officer?”

“Your punishment is a bit of community service; specifically you’ll be officially training to join PubSec.”

Zhu smiled at the gasp from the man. “But—”

“I’m excited to work with you, (Y/N). Especially if you keep smelling like strawberries.”

Yanagi is an intelligent woman with the paperwork to show for it. Yet despite that she was incredibly clumsy at anything not Section 6. The same can be said for her love life; Yanagi was a young maiden when it came to crushing and didn’t understand a lick of it.

She knew her heart fluttered when you, the delivery man of Section 6, snuck in extra snacks for Soukaku. She knew her heart fluttered when you complimented her rapping. And she knew it was love when you helped Yanagi walk to her desk, after her glasses broke, for her spare. All this romance however didn’t stop her from noticing your incredible strength.

Rumors of a secret H.A.N.D member finishing missions before any section can had spread around and reached Miyabi’s ears. “A worthy opponent,” she had said. An excuse to fight someone framed as training. But Yanagi did agree that this mysterious individual would have to be taken cared of; Section 6 has a certain way of doing things and didn’t need someone messing that up.

It’s by mere happenstance that Yanagi finds the vigilante with a bleeding bullet wound after hours. Soukaku had forgotten her midnight snack and Yanagi was fishing for it when she heard shuffling in the office. She peaked around the corner and saw a cloaked figure stuffing red bean buns in the refrigerator. She quickly put two and two together and acted on instinct.

In a flash of light Yanagi appeared behind the vigilante. She tapped his shoulder, and when he quickly turned around, she had a frown on her face; the kind of frown a disappointed mother would make.

He gulped before slowly putting the last red bean bun in the fridge and closing the refrigerator door. Yanagi’s eyes trailed over to his bullet wound and the masked figure quickly covered it with his hand.

“Enough with the mysterious hero act. I know it’s you (Y/N); only one person would sneak in at night and leave all of our favorites in the fridge for the morning.”

(Y/N) shivered himself into a cold sweat. Even with a crush, that would do nothing to stop Yanagi from scolding him.

- Fin