#(a bonus and it turned out a Problem)

[likegemstone]

as writers we all have such wide and varied practices, habits, and routines, but at least we can all find community in the shared experience of stopping dead in the middle of writing a word we've used a thousand times to immediately look it up because we're suddenly afraid we might have been using it wrong our entire lives

[fstbmp-a]

"I used t' get fleas, but after awhile I guess they just couldn't keep up." It's partly that but more they're literally being killed off by the chaos energy you're frying them with, though suddenly going at mach 2 doesn't help.

[shanklin]

@voidofthevoidmv I'm sorry, this is too funny not be be rebloggable. I've been laughing about this for an hour straight 😂😂😂

Also, I forgot the mention it, because I was sleep deprived and way past my bedtime when I wrote this down, but this post only happened because @emiliens short ciruited my brain with whatever is going between Fiddleford and Stan in the latest chapter of their fic here.

It’s Stan’s 2nd time in prison and he is bored.

The food is edible, his cellmates are quiet and polite and even the guards treat him with the bare minimum of respect.

Needless to say, Stan hates it. 

Boredom means Stan has time to think about what could’ve been if he had been smarter, better and more like Ford.

If Stan had just known how to fix Ford’s project, maybe he’d still be someone worth keeping around.

With nothing better to do, Stan one day decides to visit the prison library and finds a few boxes full of engineering textbooks abandoned in a corner.

What if Stan could’ve fixed Ford’s project. Could it even have been possible?

Stan swallows hard and picks up the first book.

Meanwhile on the other side of the continent.

“Oh no no no.”

“What is it Fiddleford?”

“I donated the wrong books! All my notes and corrections were in there…”

Stan snorts as he keeps on reading. This McGucket fellow was hilarious.

The book by itself would’ve never kept Stan’s attention, but the notes, snarky remarks, blueprints for villainous contraptions and death rays? Now that’s the stuff!

Over the next months Stan devours one book after the other and when he finally gets released he’s allowed to take the boxes with him as a thank you for fixing and improving the prison’s new experimental computer system.

***

A couple of years later Fiddleford opens the door to a little robot stomping around on the front porch. Mechanical legs on a toaster body with googly eyes that Fiddleford suspects can see more meets the eye.

He kneels down to inspect the cute little fellow when it suddenly notices him, vibrates and starts to talk.

“THANK. YOU. FOR. THE. BOOKS. NERD.”

Fiddleford has no time to figure out what that means before a book shoots out from the slot and hits him right in the head.

“HA. HA. HA.”

The little bot laughs and explodes into fireworks.

Fiddleford watches the show in amazement and inspects his present.

Beginners Guide to Mechanical Engineering

But not any guide. His guide. The one he carried with him throughout college and kept improving upon whenever he could. 

Only now there are more notes added. Corrections to his corrections, complaints about his design choices and disagreements with his theories.

Oh, it’s on!

***

It takes a few days to find the person behind the little prank, an anonymous entrepreneur who is said to be self taught and on the verge of reinventing the world of computers and robotics as they know it. 

Things that people have also been saying about Fiddleford himself.

Fiddleford laughs in delight. He always liked a friendly competition!

So he sends his new rival a little killer robot of his own as a greeting.

***

If Stanford had known what asking his old college buddy to help him out with the portal would entail he would’ve thought twice about inviting him.

It’s not like he isn’t happy for Fiddleford. He clearly found a like minded individual with the same passion for destruction as himself but would it kill them to keep it quiet for once? Stanford is doing important work here!

[Besides if Stanford wanted to he could totally build robots as well. Better ones even. Fiddleford shouldn’t spend so much of his free time fighting with his rival when his best friend was right here!]

Stanford sighs as yet another explosion causes the ground to shake and feels something push against his leg. 

It’s a little possum-like robot bringing him a bottle of water courtesy of Fiddleford’s rival.

Apparently this mystery person felt bad about destroying Stanford’s house one time too many and gifted him this little helper as an apology.

Try as he might, Stanford is unable to hate the thing and lets it climb onto his lap.

“At least you want to keep me company, hm?”

He strokes the fake fur carefully and the robot rumbles in contentment. It feels nostalgic and he knows Stanley would’ve loved it.

Maybe Ford should call him.

[teaboot]

Sometimes I think a lot about my mom's cat

My mom's cat is a common domestic shorthair we found on the side of the road as a kitten

Regular cat, not a maine coon or one of those massive breeds. His mom was smaller than a loaf of bread

But in a sort of a Clifford The Big Red Dog situation, he grew super fast, and really really big, and took a super long time to stop growing

Worried that she was overfeeding him, she eased back his portions, but he stayed a massive round baby

When he started having kidney problems, she took him to the vet.

The vet took a look at him and said, "holy fuck, what are you feeding him", checked the nutritional listings on his chow, and told her "Yeah, maybe he's reacting badly to the amount of grain in this, try a meatier diet"

So my mom wound up special-ordering this specific high-protein prescription cat food made of like. Kangaroo meat or some shit that cost like sixty bucks a bag

And, as typical act two in an episode of House, he somehow got worse on the fancy specialized stuff that was supposed to be Primo Athlete Olympic Feline Blend

Like. WAY worse. His guts were inflamed and his kidneys were shutting down and he was all sore and HE WAS STILL HUGE, just miserable and sad

So shetook him back to the vet, where they had to help him pee (he was apparently close to bursting and had some kind of blockage too) and went "Yeah no this is NOT normal and we don't know what's going on, we're gonna do some tests but in the meantime you should go back to what he was eating before, at least that wasn't actively killing him" so she did

And he still wasn't great, but he also improved

And so they take his blood and do an ultrasound and a couple g's later she gets a call back like "this is gonna sound crazy, but we want you to put him on a low-meat diet. Just the least amount of protein and iron and shit. We need you to find the grainiest, filler-iest dollar tree kibble available and give him some of that bad bad shit"

And my mother is a woman of science. So she did

And he GOT BETTER

His energy picked back up, inflammation went down, he started drinking normally again, got back to pissing like a fuckin champion

And so it turns out that out of all the random ass freeway bonus cats we possibly could have scooped out of a ditch, WE got the one-in-a-million freak of nature with a SPECIFIC genetic defect that means a paleo protein free range diet is essentially poison and he THRIVES on cheap ass garbage

Like. He medically NEEDS junk food

I dont really understand how that works, but i cant argue with results.

If we had four of him, they'd outweigh my mom. And he's FINE

Also blind, but that's unrelated

Im not using him as a symbol or a metaphor or anything. I just keep catching myself thinking about my mom's Big Fucking Cat

[theinfinitedivides]

2025 is truly full of fucking surprises bc what do you mean a possible direct lightning strike is the reason why half the lights are out in the house why the wi-fi didn't come back for at least six hours and why i'm currently sitting in the dark within walking distance from one of the only outlets that didn't get fucked up by the surge. you've got to be fucking kidding me

[cape-wearing-enigma]

it’s so fucked up and evil that the only thing standing between me and being hospitalized (again) for a chronic health condition is me remembering to give myself a shot every two weeks that will potentially stop working forever if i ever miss a day. and i have adhd. like this starts getting to me any time i think about it too hard i really and truly don’t think this is a good idea on any level but fuck it we ball i guess

[fandomfuntimem]

Dp x dc: batshit crazy driver au.

Bruce hired a new personal driver for the Wayne's. He was a nice enough guy. His grades weren't great, but he was a great driver and very patient. Like, really patient. Like, he is so unbothered by traffic, stupid drivers, and villain attacks, its kinda scary. But all the background checks came back clean. Minus his mad scientists parents, of course.

Daniel (Danny) Fenton. He could relate to any of the Wayne kids and hold an intelligent conversation with Bruce. Bruce feels that he doesn't need to be all Brucie Wayne around the young man. He doesn't know about their nightly activities yet, though. They're not quite sure if he even needs to know.

The first sign there was something more to Danny happened when Tim was sitting in the passenger seat. Tim was struggling with a math problem. It was driving him nuts. It only took a quick glance for Daniel to solve it, though, "it's thirty-six"

"What?"

"The answer is Thirty-six. You forgot to carry the three."

"Huh..."

He was right, Tim made a simple mistake, sure. But that was advanced college level math. Danny was a straight c student and never went to college. It only took him a momentary glance to solve it. Tim, though suspicious, chalked it up to a simple case of gifted kid syndrome. He related to it and began to consult with Danny on some of his math problems. Danny was more than happy to help, for a price, of course.

Then, there was a villain attack. The villain's goons ran rampant through the city, terrorizing anyone unfortunate enough to be outside at the time. But not Danny, they'll tried, oooh they tried. But those goons swiftly found themselves zip tied, in the trunk of a car, and on their way to jail. All while Danny blasted some music by a small artist named 'Ember'.

Alright. He is in Gotham, and his mother was a black belt, so maybe he was just well trained. Its good to know how to deffend yourself.

Then, Damien was kidnapped. It was so fast they barely saw, but a white van sped by and grabbed Damien as he made his way tawords the car. Initially, Damien expected the chauffeur to panic and call the police. But when shouting and cursing were heard from the front seat, and the men in the back slipped the van door open to check behind them, it was revealed Danny had followed them and he had a gun.

What could only be described as an action movie chase scene ensued. Every corner they swerved, every shortcut they took, Danny was right behind them. Driving like a bat out of hell, he shouted and fired at the wheels of the van. Knocking one out, the van swerved and was forced to come to a stop.

A kidnapper grabbed Damien by the hair and held a gun to his head, but before the threat could even leave his mouth a bullet flew through his hand. He dropped Damien and fell to the ground screaming, clutching his hand.

The kidnapper in the van already took off running but was swiftly stopped by Redhood arriving just in time to see Danny helping Damien up and checking him over, profusely apologizing for "letting this happen."

When asked why he did all of it, his simply answered, "I don't think I would get paid if I let Mr. Wayne's kid die! I can't let a kid die in general!"

Bruce, of course, gave the young man a bonus and a few days off for the stunt. Accompanied wlth a few stern words about safety. What was truly remarkable was that there was not a single scratch on the car. Untouched, meaning he never hit anything during the whole ordeal. "I just learned what not to do from my dad!" He joked, but Bruce felt that, despite the clear joking tone, there was some truth to the statement.

The family is suspicious, very suspicious. The man they previously viewed as their simple and humble driver turned out to be a monster of a fighter, and they have no idea how or why.

----------------------‐------

A/N: Feel free to add onto this in any way you would like :3

[baejax-the-great]

So there you are, number one employee at your company, team lead, bringing in more profit by yourself than the rest of the employees combined and everyone knows it. And then one day, against the advice of all the other team leads, the CEO violates a safety measure, and yeah, people start dying.

Everyone knows it's the CEO's fault. Everyone knows how to fix it. But the CEO does nothing, digs his head in the sand, and pretends like shit is normal. And people are dying.

So you, young hotshot that you are, call an all hands meeting and get a specialist to explain what the problem is. It's easily solved, but it will cost money, and that money is going to have to come from the CEO.

The CEO throws a shitfit. He doesn't want to solve the problem. He doesn't want to admit under overwhelming evidence that it's his fault. But he agrees to do so under one condition--he's not paying to fix it--you are. He's taking your bonus and you can get fucked. As it turns out, the CEO, whose entire pile of wealth has come directly from your hard work, thinks you fucking suck.

Not a single one of your colleagues protests on your behalf, probably because they know that if they speak up, he'll just take their bonuses, too.

So what do you do? Do you continue working for Mr. "idc if my employees die as long as I get mine?" Do you quit? Do you take the wealth you've accumulated working for this guy and go home? Do you stab the worst boss you've ever had in front of every other employee at the company?

Anyway that's book 1 of the Iliad

[deduukkk]

Knock knock! Guess who's online again! 🥂

For now, check out the sketches of the characters in the form of teenagers / children + bonus ( AIS AU ⛸️❄)

+bonus (I drew the art a long time ago, but decided to show it only now)

Unfortunately, I was away for a long time due to personal problems. The beginning of the year turned out to be difficult.

I was COMPLETELY deprived of the opportunity to draw on a graphics tablet.I also had to move in with my dad after a fight with my mom. Now I'm drawing on my phone in the Ibis Paint X app with my finger, which is unusual for me.

However, there is some good news! It's my birthday next month, and my dad promised to give me an iPad! (I've never used it before.)

Therefore, I will temporarily post less art on Tumblr.(sorry)

[plethorawrites]

So, we all know Jason Todd would spoil the hell out of you, right? He'd know every detail, remember every important date, always do anything to make you feel special and wanted. The compliments would never stop, the random gifts always showed up, the physical affection never dwindled.

You loved it and he loved that you loved it.

But it was so normal (not to say it went unappreciated) that you almost didn't realize how lacking your own gestures were. Jason doesn't notice either, obviously.

However, he certainly starts to when instead of blowing a kiss to him from the couch when he leaves or comes home, you start getting up and draping your arms around him, kissing his cheek and lips. He'd never fault you for falling asleep when he's out on patrol in the middle of the night but feels a sense of warmth wash over him when you start leaving notes on his side of the bed telling him you missed him, or hope he was safe.

(+Bonus points if you told him his favorite food was waiting in the kitchen if he was hungry.)

You always match his energy when it comes to physical affection, holding him right back when he wraps his arms around you from behind or wrapping your legs around him while he holds you during the night, but realizing you almost never initiate it makes you reevaluate.

He notices, obviously, when you start asking him to join you in the shower or begin tugging him into your lap until his head is resting on your thighs and you can play with his hair. When you start smoothing out the few wrinkles on his shirt for him, or kissing his shoulder from behind while he works, sliding him a snack and telling him to eat.

It eventually all comes to a head when he's reading and you randomly start massaging his shoulders out of nowhere. Not that it doesn't feel good, because he always loves your soft hands on him, but he starts asking why you've been so affectionate lately you have no choice but to admit that you feel like you've been taking advantage of him.

"I never seem to give you the same kind of attention you give me," you confess, your hands softly kneading at the knots in his neck as he reads.

His head turns, one of his hands covering yours to get you to stop. "Is that what you think?" He asks, his voice much quieter, almost disappointed when you nod. He sets his book down on the table, dragging you around the chair and into his lap. "I give you attention because I like to," he explains, stroking your hair. "I don't need you to fawn over my every move."

You were his partner, not his parent. He didn't need to be watched over or fed and worried about to the extent you'd started leaning into. He needed your love, your support, your respect. Your honesty, kindness, compassion. Your smile, your laugh, your kisses. You, as you. His best friend and the love of his life.

Your lips pull into a tight line, arms wrapping around his neck. "You don't feel neglected?"

He almost laughs, shaking his head. "No," he states. "Never. I feel grateful as hell that you love me despite my past." He fusses with your hair for another moment before cupping your face. "I like showing you how much you mean to me."

You press your forehead against his. "I just don't ever want you to think you don't mean the same to me," you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper. You had always had a similar problem to him, struggling to accept love, let alone show it. He knew that.

His lips pull into a small smile. "I know. Believe me I know," he replies. "You don't need to follow me to the door every day or rub my shoulders for me to know you love me." He pauses for a moment, his voice getting a bit more playful. "But if you want to keep inviting me into the shower I won't complain."

[seat-safety-switch]

If you ask me, the coolest kind of machines are the ones that shouldn't exist. Capitalism is all about making sure that you only get something if a bunch of other people also want it. And for those of us who are particularly niche weirdos by nature or necessity, we're forced to go into our metaphorical basements and emerge with some homemade nightmare tool to solve our exact problem.

Sometimes it's a tool that I want badly, but can't afford, and I spend a couple afternoons looking longingly at pictures while copying them down. Other times, it's something that has never been created before, but solves my exact problem. Want to punch a bigger hole in the middle of tiny wheels because your ass is too lazy to go to the store and get the right axle? You could use a drill press, or you could make an ordeal out of it. Bonus project, bonus project! Oh boy!

Folks who come to my shop will invariably see the big box on the counter marked "tools, weird." They'll root through it a bit, and the brave ones will even put on the welding gloves and reach right in there to pull whatever not-even-deburred piece of junk I have made. Once in a while, lightning strikes. They look at this horrible abomination that was brought into the world by my thought and deed, and they realize "holy fuck, I could use one of these too."

No second one will be forthcoming, though. I'm not in business making tools or anything. If they really want it, they can just have it, and if that problem ever turns up again, I'll make a whole new one for myself. Bonus project!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly something that, amidst facing / going through a dramatic Life Change ft. unavoidable emotional effects of that, there are instances where i can't conceal any & all degrees of being distressed / upset, & repeatedly getting "it's hard for me too" as a Direct Response to that: really something & a half how the asserted theoretical Sympathy of [i feel similarly!] is invoked so as to, oh you know, preclude sympathetic Treatment. such as that what would be More sympathetic in these instances would be to say Nothing, "if there's nothing but dismissal / making it first & foremost about someone else's feelings to say, don't say it at all" style

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPxDC prompt: Danny is Chronos' first child.

Well, not his first child biologically, to be completely honest.

It just so happened that the Phantom very often helped/helps/will help Clockwork at different times and his presence next to the titan required an explanation.

And the opportunity to call Zeus a little brother is worth a lot, right? So when the Ancient came up with this idea Phantom did not resist just to have such a pleasant bonus from their cooperation.

However, in the time of the gods and heroes, such a solution was not a problem. But in modern times, when Phantom tries to attract as little attention as possible in order to graduate from university, such relatives are more likely to cause a lot of problems.

~~~~~

Wonder Woman: Uncle Danny?

Superman, who wanted to chase away a teenager serenely strolling through still smoking battlefield, turns to Wonder Woman, who is waving affably at excactly this guy.

Well, Fenton honestly happened to be in Fawcett City by accident, and it just so happened that by chance it was on this sunny and cloudless day that the villains decided to cause riots worthy of the attention of the founders of the Justice League.

Danny: Diana! My dear, it seems like we really haven't seen each other not for a long time! In what century was it? Ah, I honestly, I barely remember it... The speed at which children grow up defies the laws of time. I mean, look at you! Your mother must be so proud. How's Dad? Still not paying child support, arrogant bastard?

Wonder Woman: Oh, uncle, please. I'm all grown up now, don't worry about me.

Danny: Hm, well, let's get back to this question later. I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your friends. Anyway, would you like to introduce them, little princess?

Wonder Woman: Of course, meet Kal El, Batman, and Shazam. The rest of the guys have already returned to our base. Would you like to...

Danny: Ooh, you're talking about, um... What do you young people call it? The Justice League, right? During my youth, the heroes rarely united and mostly performed all the feats alone. It's good that you help each other, kids.

Danny flies up a little to pat Superman and Batman on the head.

Under the Diana's gaze full of hope that they will get along with her uncle, the men do not move.

In the background:

Red Hood and Robin who used to hang out with Danny near the Lazarus pits: *sounds of seagulls dying of laughter*

~~~~~

Flash: So you're Diana's uncle?

Danny: Yes, call me Danny.

Flash: Cool, cool...

Danny: What does the temperature have to do with it? Do you need ice? Let me make some for you.

Flash: No, it's like,um, I didn't know that Zeus has a younger brother with that name. So, it's good to know?

Danny: Hmm, thanks. Many people tell me that I look quite young, hah. But actually I'm his older brother, so...

Flash: Older? Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect.

Danny: No, it's all right. It's "cool". I rarely appear on the pages of your human myths and legends, I know it. After all this business about Chronos devours his own children, my father punished me for a long time. So, yeah...It's a funny story.

Flash: Punished for what? How?

Danny: Uh, sitting in a room at a time when there is no Internet or electricity is not fun at all. You see, I just didn't want a younger brother or sister because I was afraid that my parents would pay less attention to me. So, I made up this stupid prophecy and persuaded Gaea to tell it in order to remain the only child in the family. My father would never have thought that I would decide to kill him, that's why...Phah, it's just a bad family story. In 10 thousand years, we'll all laugh about it.

Flash: Yeah, that's... funny.

~~~~

Danny *is woken up by an emergency call from the League at three in the morning, although he fell asleep at two o'clock* (he gave his contact so as not to upset his niece): I knew this would happen! I knew it!

~~~~

Billy Batson *stands in his human form in front of the Justice League and doesn't know what to say*,*sweating nervous*.

Danny *enters the hall*: What's up, mortals, Diana and...Batman? My father said that there is something that I have to be here for. Oh! Well, at least someone in this family is also a shapeshifter. Have you decided to make a younger form so that your uncle doesn't feel lonely? What a good boy! Usually everyone is so afraid to seem like children, once they turn a couple of centuries old. Ah, youth~

Billy: Yeah, I decided to..experiment? and it seems I got stuck by accident.

Danny: It's okay, Uncle Danny will help you. Come on, let's go...

~~~~

Danny *teleports them to the Fawcett City*.

Billy: ....

Danny:

Billy: Hey, I'm still stuck!

A new portal opens and a man in a purple cape hands Billy a note. "Go to Constantine. P.S., my son always completes all assignments only by half, sorry." written on it.

Billy: Oh... OoOhHh!!!

~~~~

Meanwhile, Constantine, who is forced to do additional work: Son of a bi... beloved and respected Master of Time.

Danny: Yeap, that's me.

Constantine: Damn it. Couldn't you just let Batman adopt him like in other timelines?

Danny: And where's the fun in that?

[classyrbf]

ᯓ★ YOU TURN ME ON! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...what turns the jjk men on? Don’t worry, I’m here to tell you!

INFO...jjk men (geto, gojo, nanami, toji, choso, higuruma, sukuna) x fem!reader, sexual and non sexual turn ons (kinda), whispering, eye contact, tight clothing, shower sex, p in v, hair pulling, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), pheromones (?), mention of glasses (sukuna), facial (sukuna), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

GOJO

gojo loves when you whisper in his ear. Something about you being so close to him, feeling your breath on his skin just does something to him. He gets immediate chills up his body and a small little smirk on his face. It doesn’t even have to be sexual either, you could whisper the most basic shit and he’d be giggling like a school girl cause he just loves hearing your voice in that tone. Now, when it is sexual…that man will nut inside of you without warning. You’re moaning and whispering in his ear? He’s a goner, quite literally on another planet. Nibble on his ear a little and his eyes will roll back. Sometimes you’ll do it in purpose while you two are out in public and he gives you the biggest pout ever. “Baby, don’t do that to me c’mon,” he whines. He damn near dragged you to the car and fucked you in the backseat…

NANAMI

nanami loves eyes contact a little too much. Sometimes it’s intimidating because he’s such a stoic man and doesn’t show very much emotion in his face, so he will just stare at you. But overtime you’ve grown to be comfortable with making eye contact with him, just staring lovingly while he talks about work or whatever. He stares into your eyes so much that he can tell what you’re thinking and feeling. More specifically, he knows when you’re in the mood, the little glint in your eye while you smile at him, looking at him up and down like he’s a piece of meat. In that case, expect eye contact during sex! Nanami loves missionary just looking at you, forehead pressed against yours, and he can’t get over that pleading look, batting your pretty lashes at him while you moan his name. “Yes, right here, baby. Keep looking at me. There’s my girl,” he softly sighs.

TOJI

toji loves tight clothes (no surprise). He genuinely thinks you look good in anything, but something about seeing the outline of your body makes him a crazed man. He will nonstop be touching you, handing on your ass, waist, titties, thighs…he does not give a damn. You could be wearing your pajamas and he will still find you sexy. You bend over in something tight? He’s now hard and has to fix the problem, not that he minds. He bends you over right there on the couch with your shorts around your ankles. It’s date night? He’s excited because you’re gonna wear that new dress he bought you—the one that hugs your body so well, showing off all your curves. Wandering eyes follow your every movement while you get ready and be chews on his bottom lip while he thinks of everything he wants to do to you. “Yeah, doll, I don’t think we’ll be making it to dinner tonight,” he chuckles.

GETO

geto loves soapy titties. Now I know that’s like very specific…but I just see him getting turned on by soapy tits for some reason (I don’t make the rules). He doesn’t care what size they are, what they look like, just throw some soap and water on them bad boys and he’s a satisfied man. Bonus points if you send him an unexpected photo in the shower while he’s away. He almost drops his phone while waiting in line for food because he can’t believe his eyes—your perky nipples and soap cascading down your entire body. Expect shower sex…a lot of shower sex. He will go out of his way to help you wash up, trying to be all nice and polite but minutes later his hands are groping your chest and playing with your nipples, soap running between his fingers while he fucks you against the shower wall. “They look so pretty in my hands, baby. I love ‘em.” He lazily smiles.

CHOSO

choso loves when his hair gets pulled or when you play with his hair. He only discovered this when you were doing his hair and accidentally pulled it and to his surprise (and yours) he let out a small whimper. Now you go out of your way to tease him, tugging at his hair whenever you walk by, giggling when he huffs in annoyance. He likes laying on your chest and you just run your fingers through his hair, he immediately melts into your touch. Oh but Choso definitely likes it when you tug at his hair when he’s eating you out…why wouldn’t he? It makes him so hard when he feels your fingers entangle in his hair, pulling and tugging at it while you basically ride his face for your pleasure. You only tug harder when you get closer and closer to your orgasm and his dick is throbbing. “Yes, yes, pull on my hair, please, please,” he begs.

HIGURUMA

higuruma gets turned on when you smell good, whether it’s your natural smell or your perfume, conditioner, lotion, whatever you use. You’d walk by him one day in the kitchen, greeting him when came home from work and he stops in his tracks and sniffs the air a couple of times because you smell so good…??? Like really good to the point he just wants to devour you, hold you, do whatever to you. He’ll hold you close and just smell your hair, your skin, kissing you over and over while his hands roam your body. And if you wear a scent that evokes memories of you two, like a first date or something like that…he pounces on you like a tiger. “How do you smell so fucking good? God, I could just eat you up right now…would you let me?”

SUKUNA

sukuna loves glasses. Yes I said it. Modern sukuna more specifically cause yk…But he will see a woman with glasses and think about how cute her face looks, how smart she looks…the innocent thoughts at first, and then his evil, horny ass would think about what they would look like when he’s fucking you. He can never be wholesome. Will they fog up? Will you let him cum on them? Do you even keep them on? Will they break if he fucks you too hard? All questions that need to be answered. So yes, he eventually fucks a woman with glasses and god does he love it. He finds it adorable when you push up your glasses every ten seconds cause he’s pounding into you too hard. He loves it when you look over them while giving him head. And yes, they do fog up. “Gonna let me cum all over your face? Yeah..? No, no, keep them on for me,” he devilishly smirks, licking his lips.

taglist (comment to be added):

@valleydoli @zxnxy @screechingbasementprincess @lexluthorbutnotbald @lynxslokley @briyah0 @levisjinchuriki @maiiluvs @levizonlywife @xllizs @sm8th0p @waterfal-ling @bonneyzsk @ventila98

[rae-writes]

angelic alteration

om brothers x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings: nsfw, corruption kink based

synopsis : when Solomon and Diavolo can't fix the problem, it's up to Mc

a/n : thought the angel event (og) could use some more spice so I poured my entire spice rack on it

“Mc…I’m afraid we have bad news.”

You sighed into the receiver, “Yeah? You guys can’t reverse the magic, can you?”

“Nope!” Solomon chirped cheerfully, “Diavolo and Michael’s magic mixed together too strongly for us to reverse ourselves. You’ll just have to wait for them to go back to normal, or…”

“Or…what?”

“Well, this is just a theory, but what if you just corrupted the angelic magic and forced their demonic sides back out?”

“Corrupted, huh..? I like the sound of that.”

†

“I can feel the magic trying to stop me…how. stupidly. annoying.” Lucifer accentuated each word of his complaint with a sharp thrust, face pinched in concentration as sweat beaded at his temple. 

He’d be damned if something as trivial as a hexed bracelet from the celestial realm kept him from indulging in you, the one temptation he would never dare ignore. 

Your nails dug crescent moons into his shoulders, thighs squeezing at his hips tightly as you moaned and panted beneath him. “Lu-ci-fer! S-slow d-own!” 

He growled and sped up in response, snapping his hips into you harshly, “How dare they try to turn me back? I am the Avatar. Of. Pride!” Once again, each word was accentuated with a thrust, making his cock hit deeper and deeper each time. 

And he was so fucking proud each time he had you a moaning mess underneath him, crying out his name, begging him not to stop— you made his sin flood his entire body every time. 

An electric charge cracked through the air for a brief second before the bangle broke in half, magic forcibly shattering under Lucifer’s sheer prowess. 

He grinned sharply, capturing your legs against your chest in a mating press as he went even harder. His wings shedded to black, spanning out proudly behind him as the halo melted down into his horns. 

“I’m going to ruin you, do you hear me? You’re not leaving this bed- not tonight, or in the morning, or maybe even until tomorrow afternoon…I’m keeping you until I’ve had my fill.”

†

The sight of Mammon’s blue eyes peering up while his mouth was busy pleasuring you had always been a pretty sight— the shimmering halo was only a little bonus this time. 

But you wanted his horns to hold onto. “Just like that, Mams…doing so well, pretty boy.” Your hips rocked over his mouth, grinning down at him with gold flickering in your eyes. 

He was all about giving now that the bangle had taken hold, which even before, Mammon always keened when you sat on his face and just used him. 

The second born was moaning and whining and whimpering against your skin as his tongue lapped up everything he could, “Mmph- like this? ‘M I doing good, Mc?” 

“Y-yeah, baby, fuck— so good…” you carded your fingers through Mammon’s hair, feeling him get more and more excited before you lifted up off his face. 

And he was absolutely distraught with the lack of your taste, desperate cry leaving him as he tried to chase after you. “No, no, no! Mc, please, come back— wasn’t done, wanna taste you still, wanna make you feel good, please!” 

The laugh you let out made him whine even louder, fingers gripping frantically at your thighs. It was like a switch flipped, magic being overtaken by his greed. 

His eyes flickered gold like yours, a whiny growl escaping him. He forced you on your back within a second, mouth working at you even more desperately now as he held you down and took what he wanted— and he wanted to make you cum. 

“Jus’ let me, please let me make you cum— you taste so good, Mc, I don’t wanna stop. Want you to scream my name and yank my hair, grip my horns, just give me more- more, more, more!” 

†

A small shriek left Levi when you rammed against his prostate, hiccuped cries of your name following. His back arched, wings flaring out behind him, making you hit even deeper spots inside of him. 

With his new attitude, he’d been letting everyone else spend time with you and he was finally feeling the built up envy creep along his spine, right beside the spikes of pleasure. 

“Aww…look at you. So sweet for me, huh? Why so shy, Levi? Wasn’t this what you meant about strengthening connections?” 

Garbled sounds left him, courtesy of your fingers stuffed in his mouth. His eyes rolled back, hands gripping at your hips desperately, though it wasn’t clear if he was pushing you away or pulling you closer.

“How am I gonna know I’m doing good if you don’t tell me, ‘vi? C’mon, sweet thing, tell me. Or do you not want me?” 

It was like you asked the unthinkable. A loud whine left him and his tail returned, knocking the halo right off his head before it coiled around your abdomen. 

“No! I want you, I want you so badly, please keep fucking me— don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Diamond shaped scales scattered across his body as the magic wore out. 

You cooed, thrusting into him sharply, making his body lurch, “Good boy, Leviathan..” 

†

“Fuck!” Satan cries out, fingers digging into his white wings to try and keep them from fluttering. His back arched almost painfully, loudly begging you to keep going. 

“Oh, look at you…” the coos that left you made him flush red, giving you a great sense of satisfaction. This was the most he’d been riled up since putting that ridiculous bangle on.

Your thighs were burning at the unforgiving pace you were riding him at, beads of sweat splashing onto his skin, so you decided to change the game a little. 

“Come on, Tannie, if you want it, work for it.” You settled your weight on top of him, ceasing your movements as you cockwarmed him instead. 

A displeased growl comes from the back of his throat, eyes snapping open with a glowing green. “Mc, move! Please!” 

Slowly, the halo above his head began to flicker and dim before it shattered, dissipating in the air. Another growl escaped him as his wings followed suit, tail lashing out like a whip. 

“That’s it— c’mon-!” You gasped when he yanked you forwards, chest pressing against his as his tail locked you in place. The only sounds that could leave you now were broken moans as he fucked you almost viciously. 

“You know how I feel about you fucking. teasing. me. Feels good doesn’t it? Yeah? Cause I’m not stopping. ‘M not stopping until I physically can’t fuck you anymore— fuck, I needed you.” 

†

Unabashed moans echo off the walls of Asmo’s bathroom as the fifth born writhes under your touch. The sound of water sloshing makes his cheeks burn fiery red and the sound of you moaning back at him makes it even worse. 

“W-wait! You d-don’t have to— oh!” 

“Shh, Azzy…’m just taking care of you. You were so hard and aching…could see it even though you tried to hide under the water.” 

The white feathers ruffled with pleasure (slowly shedded away and turning back), hips jerking frantically to chase the pleasure. The bangle’s magic was completely buried under how hot you made him feel and the feeling of you licking along the edges of his leathery wings increased it ten fold. 

“Yes, Mc, like that— don’t stop, just like that, just like that!” Amso curled over on you, horns knocking against your shoulder as he cried out even louder. 

You fisted his cock harder and swiped your thumb over the tip relentlessly, “Yeah? Made you feel so good, you corrupted yourself, huh? Pretty little Azzy…come on, cum.” 

The squeal he let out cracked halfway through, broken cries of your name following like a mantra. His hand encased yours, making sure you didn’t stop jerking him off. 

“K-keep going, don’t stop! Wanna cum for you again ‘n again, gotta make up for when I was giving you away to the others, please, please, let me cum again for you!”

†

“H-haaah…ah! M-Mc…what’re you..o-oh..doing?” 

“You said it made you happier seeing others get to eat, so…” you hummed, licking your lips before digging your tongue back into the slit of his cock, “I’m just..enjoying my meal…” 

Beel had always lost his cool when you went down on him, finding your mouth to be too good at pleasuring him. The growl he let out was something only a demon could make. 

The glowing of the bangle did nothing to deter you— in fact, you only laughed and peered up at him with the red sin of gluttony swirling through your irises. With another hum, you enveloped his cock in your mouth and forced your head as far down as you could, swallowing around him. 

He tried so hard to not buck into your mouth or grip at your head as the magic worked to keep his ravenous nature at bay, but…that’s just not who he was anymore. 

“C’mon, Beelie…want you to cum in my mouth, I wanna taste you..pretty please? Let me have it…” 

A low groan fell past his lips, hips finally jerking up and accidentally making you choke. A rushed apology was given as his fingers tangled in your hair and gently guided your head at a faster pace. 

The beating of his insectual wings was rapid as he got closer, magic completely dissipating when he let out a sound akin to a small roar, grabbing at his own horns when he came. 

Watching you pull away with visibly stuffed cheeks, slowly working on swallowing it all (though drops still ran down your chin) made a sharp pang shoot through him. 

“Thank you…you always make me feel so good, Mc…but..now ‘m hungry. Let me return the favor..wanna taste you too.” 

†

“A-are you sure…this is o-okay?” Belphie chokes out quietly, hands pressing down on your hips to keep you pinned to the bed with your knees bent to your sides. 

Your fingers curl in the sheets, body lurching forward at each thrust, “yeah, ‘s okay— feels good, doesn’t it? You’re doing so good, Bel…” 

The clipped whines and gasps that Belphie was making made his cheeks flair with an embarrassed flush; but you were right. It felt so. fucking. good. And he didn’t think he ever wanted to stop. 

Through the pleasure, it was easy to ignore the glowing bangle on his wrist and the voice in the back of his head telling him that he should have more reservations- that he shouldn’t be doing this— that voice wasn’t even his. Belphie wanted this, he did! 

As your hands stretched back to claw at his lower stomach, you moaned out his name and wiggled your hips, begging him to go faster. 

“Please, Bel…know you can go f-faster than this, want you to fuck me— please, please, please! Don’t wan’ you to be an angel, want you to be my demon again-!” 

Magic cracked in the air, sending the hair on the back of your neck rising before a familiar tail curled around your stomach and yanked your lower half higher up, forcing your chest further into the mattress. 

The attic bed creaked with the force he slammed into you at, whines mixing with growls now; his horns pressed against your skin as he rested his forehead against your back, making it arch even more. 

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you senseless again? Couldn’t even go a couple days without having me play with you, fuck, you’re such a slut for me.”

[killishin]

— ♡ my pretty neighbour.

PART 01.

PAIRING: jason todd x witch! reader

CONTENT WARNING: afab reader, blood, violence, alcohol, mention of assaults, more to be added.

CATEGORY: shit ton of fluff and sfw, maybe angst?

SUMMARY: a witch trying her best to lay low and live her life, while being out of every gothams vigilante's radar. turns out red hood had been her neighbour all along. also they have cute little pets.

WC: 4k

A/N: another jason fic yep. i didn't really have a solid idea but i just really wanted to write something so.... enjoy!

fic masterlist. next.

dividers by @cursed-carmine

gotham is filled with all kinds of criminals, masterminds, lunatics, druglords— you name it. each has done such horrible deeds that it has scarred hearts and souls of every innocent, each has a certain level of craziness in them that requires insane amount of intellect to even catch them. and despite the vigilantes giving their utmost best, everyday having to push themselves to think better, be faster... criminals still hide in those dark alleys, unbound and free.

so you can't really blame the protectors of the city, as they like to call themselves, to be cautious of every activity that goes on in the city. they are understandably hostile to superheroes who try to help, a bit too hostile sometimes in your opinion, but maybe the massive workload makes them snippy.

being a witch and living in gotham is a bit tough therefore, you not only have to hide your powers from the normal people but also from the vigilantes. you do not want to be evicted out of the only city where you can afford the rent, that too without any dignity since witches are sort of still discriminated by the myths and fake stories. still, its understandable, mankind has always been afraid of what they can't control or understand.

you had been ridiculously meticulous in your choice of residence, not like you had much choice to begin with. but you had scouted out the area as best as you could to your needs, and upon confirming that there wasn't much vigilante sighting in the neighborhood, you had finally settled.

a barista's salary didn't really help much, but you didn't really have much needs. your only goal was to live a drama free, quiet life where you could experiment with your little spells (harmless ones.. of course) and, the most important, provide for your little gentleman, alfred, a cute little doberman (he's huge). that was your goal, the ideal life you chased— should chase. but often a heart's desire overwhelm the logic of mind.

you have a penchant for getting into trouble. having promised to never get involved in anything that might shed light upon your existence, you strayed from that promise more often than not. all for good deeds, mostly.

"this is the third time this month. i have got to practice some self control." you sigh as you nudge the body of the man on the ground, groaning and coughing up blood. your brows furrow in mild annoyance as you kick his thigh this time.

"i didn't even use a strong spell! come on you wuss!" you softly groaned to yourself before sighing as you looked away for a moment, scratching your brow with your nail. the blood wasn't a problem, to be honest you wouldn't give a crap if he died. he was assaulting a sweet old man, punching him to death— you just had to step in.

...maybe you stepped in too much. now his arm is twisting at an odd angle, you were supposed to teach him a simple lesson. just give him some scare that'll scar him for life. now he got a bonus broken arm.

you've left one too many mens like that lying and crying, and it'll only be a matter of time before they lead those pesky vigilantes to your doorstep.

you put on a spell that altered his memory of your face, in case he saw it, before turning around to be on your merry way. but cue gotham weather's shitty timing, it starts pouring hard.

"mother nature you're really teasing me today..." you murmured sarcastically to yourself, yet sauntering off unbothered, rain never bothered you much anyway. you just hate how the clothes get all damp and clingy, weighing down your body.

by the time you reach your place you're visibly drenched to the bone, humming some tune under your breath, totally not seeing the man walking ahead of you. and so consequently you bump into his back, eyes widening for a moment as you stepped back with an apology right on your tongue.

but they die on your lips when you see the most brilliant bluish green eyes glance back at you, bitter and hostile. but you've always had a weak spot for pretty things, and when the man turns fully, you note he is the most prettiest man you've ever laid your eyes on.

you're far too lost in admiring him that you fail to notice the slight shift in his demeanor. after all, jason was already in a wretched mood and the next second he turns around to see an absolutely drenched women staring back at him. he isn't that easily fazed, your skin glistens, the damp and dripping hair clinging to the side of your face, that makes you look gorgeous but he's seen gorgeous. your eyes though— they seem unreal. feel unreal. there's just something otherworldly about it— ethereal even. and he's not among those to be poetic.

you realise you've been staring for a second too long and the silence becomes awkward real quick, you blink and step back with a polite smile. "sorry. i uh— wasn't looking where i was going." his brow raised slightly at your politeness, seemingly even more sweet due to your low and honeyed voice.

"no problem." he murmured casually, his voice even more grumpy and rougher than usual, a tough night and patrol hasn't even started. he then turned around and ascended the stairs, and so did you, lagging behind by two steps. you couldn't make the pretty man uncomfortable after all.

but he noticed you following him floor after floor, stopping right when he did at his floor before your steps softly followed behind him again. when he reached his door he turned around, and found you looking back at him with the same confusion.

"...hi neighbour?" you jokingly whispered with a hesitant smile but he didn't.

"how long have you been living here?" that came out more as an interrogative question than a confused one and it made your brows raise in amusement. this one's got a feisty side.

"a few months. wasn't aware anyone lived there." you replied back coolly with a smile that bordered serene yet sultry. his eyes dropped down to it for a small second, narrowing slightly as if the smile irritated him. it indeed irritated him because of the shiver that ran down his spine at the sight of it.

"I've lived here for more than a year. never seen you before." he retorted like he's insinuating an accusation and your lips pull to a slow grin.

"you're awfully stingy for a pretty neighbour." you remark, your nose scrunching up in fake disappointment as you unlock your door.

stingy?

"pretty? " he didn't know what of those words baffled him more, yet that was the one that had to come out of his mouth.

"and interrogative. are you in the gcpd or something?" you asked as you leaned your weight against your door which was slightly ajar.

"no. you're the one interrogating now." he scoffed quietly as he turned around, fetching his key out his pocket.

"seems like you don't know the difference between making conversation and interrogation." you lightly chuckle and thats when he realised its your voice thats the root of the irritation being caused in his already irritated mind. its irritatingly sweet and honeyed— addictive may be the right word.

"that's your version of making conversation?" he scowls as he opened his door and stepped inside while your grin widened, he finds your amusement at his expense really insulting.

"only with pretty, grumpy neighbours."

"and is that your way of flirting? cus its not effective."

"slow down, pretty boy. if you think this is flirting then clearly you haven't been properly flirted with before. how sad." if he can't handle your teasing, he'd be a downright mess when you actually flirt then. and those reddened embarrassed cheeks simply intensify the want to flirt with him.

he gives you one last scathing glare before shutting the door on your face. a chuckle quietly escapes your lips as you call out a loud "goodnight!" which you're probably sure he heard and frowned even more.

you step in your apartment and close the door, flicking on the candles with a swish of your hand. you could just switch on the lights but you secretly love the theatrics. a quick spell could dry you but a warm shower would probably help you more.

and it does help you, you're more relaxed and less tense. your muscles feels like mush just like your head. and yet, as you lay on your bed, your eyes are open wide and awake. you're a bit of an insomniac. its a bother and inconvenience but just like ever other nuisance in your life, you've gotten used to it.

just like always you get up, grab a grimoire and your reading glasses, learning a spell or two. it usually takes you more than an hour to understand and practice and most nights it ends up with something getting on fire or your own self. you suppose that's the fun part.

and again, like always, you get bored and lay back on your bed. this time the pretty neighbour occupies your mind, beauty aside, it is a question that you met him just today when he claims to have been living for a year. why didn't you bump into him before?

you hoped for no trouble, yet something tells you he'll make you be neck deep in one.

"again? " jason frowned as he dropped to the ground with a muted thump of his boots, not a noise at his landing, its like second nature to him.

"third this month." oracle spoke through the comms and jason crouched infront of the little blood that was splattered across the gritty pavement, the rain had washed off most of it yet some stayed, seeped into the earth like a taint.

"some random person reported it almost an hour ago and he was taken to get treated." oracle continued and jason scoffed sarcastically, "you're telling me the cops beat me to it? that's a first."

she simply rolled her eyes at that, "i checked his background. a typical small time thief, arrested quiet a few times for mugging and burglary."

he grunted as a response and looked around but nothing else was amiss. with a sigh he got up, "someone's doing our work here. unfortunately for us they're pretty good at it."

"not for long." Jason's brows furrowed a bit on reflex as bruce's voice came in, "they're bound to slip."

"they haven't for the last two month. maybe they might never." course he agreed with bruce, but where's the fun in agreeing?

"they will. and we have to catch them. they're a threat to the city—"

"times like these, wish i was deaf."

"what was that?"

Jason's not that worried about the mysterious person on the loose beating up criminals, he's sure they were probably in the act of committing a crime to deserve this. but bruce's worry has a point, they need to know who it is. not everyone's a protector. they may be saving right now, but is that all they're doing?

jason knows first-hand how times change, how fast people change. how deceiving time could be, how deceiving humans can be.

his mind is immediately pulled to you at that thought, someone who looks pretty harmless, eyes that are both innocent yet alluring like a siren's. you looked even more helpless and naive in your drenched form. yet all it took was for you to smile and that image shattered.

that smile was a warning in itself, an omen as if. innocence might be something of a past to you, your eyes held no fear, no apprehension. your smile was steady and dangerous, he's a man who has fought back death, rendered men almost lifeless with just his fist— and still his gut told him you were not to be taken lightly. harmless you might be, for now, but not innocent.

he returned back at his place at dawn, grunting and groaning at the sore muscles that ached here and there.

"at this point im gonna age faster than alfred." he murmured to himself with an almost pout. a quick shower and some television were supposed to really tire him out, but sleep escaped him. insomnia the trouble of yet another person.

and he doesn't really leave his place much, but today he felt like it. maybe a walk might help him. its still early so he doubts the streets to be that busy.

he really should have thought this through.

"hey pretty neighbour." he gave a deadpanned stare to that same amusing smile of yours.

"ooh you don't seem like a morning person." you pretend to frown, still locking your door before turning around with a wink, "i know you for less than twelve hours and we already have something in common. is this destiny's sign for something more? " you said dramatically, taking huge delight at his annoyance.

"no, but my headache's a perfect sign for nothing ever." he quietly snapped as he slammed his door shut a little too hard tugging on his hood over a bit before walking away.

"so you do have sarcasm." came your voice not too far behind him, but he knows you're not following him. he saw your clothes when he stepped out, formal and perfectly ironed for work. maybe it really was the rain that gave him the innocent illusion last night.

he sighed as he started descending the stairs, shaking his head as he immediately regretted his decision for this walk.

"you talk a lot." he called out and heard your quiet chuckle in response, "you talk too less." his steps became hurried and your grin simply widened.

"would you tell me your name if i ask you?" you asked him, your smile barely contained and he rolled his eyes, "think you already know the answer."

soon both of you stepped out on the pavement and you turned to face him with a teasing smile, "guess I'll just call you pretty neighbour then."

you waved at him goodbye before he could turn the other way, and yelled "bye pretty neighbour!" as loud as you could, making sure it'll turn heads.

his eyes widened for a moment before he glared at you in disbelief, then swiftly turned around to walk away from imminent embarrassment. maybe it was better if he never knew he had a neighbour next door, no matter how beautiful you are. he sighed to himself as your smile flashed in his mind, unfortunately you really were beautiful. damn you.

you loved your barista job, after all it involved brewing and you were, not to brag, quite the master at it. you kept your conversations with the customers at a minimal, there's no need to involve in idle chatter with them. your coworkers though are a bunch of sweethearts, mostly, so its never a headache working there.

but sometimes some assholes walk in, harassing the workers, some be rude to you about the order even when its made just like they want— but you do what you gotta do to survive.

when you're returning on your way back home, your mood's sour than usual. you don't have it in you to even smile. all anyone would want after a shitty day at job, is the damn bed. even if you can't sleep.

but, the world always tests you on your worst days.

you stop dead in your tracks just a few steps away from your unit, whose door is wide open by the way. your senses heightened and every spell on the tip of your tongue. you didn't have to worry about all your witchy things being stolen or affected since they're all safely locked in a cupboard bound by a spell, unseen by anyone other than you. your important things are also spell bound to your home so no thief can take them out of your apartment.

no, what you're worried about is alfred.

you peaked inside in your own home, the lights were on. you slowly pushed the door without making a sound, a little proud at the creaky door to not give you away today.

suddenly your eyes caught the top of someone's head peaking from behind your dining table— alfred's there too! your eyes widened and your brows furrowed into an angry glare.

"step the fuck away from alfred!" you extended your hand, about to cripple the hell out of whoever that is— but then you see your pretty neighbour straighten up fast and alfred perk up before rushing to you, all smiles and happy.

"woah woah chill— wait who??? " his initial shock subsided to one of pure confusion as he stood there with his hands raised.

ignoring him you crouched down to alfred's height, checking him for any injury because heaven knows if there is one, then that pretty neighbour might not leave the world very pretty—

"he's fine." he said as he slowly rounded the table before stopping short at the sight of your glare. it was... a change, different. he had the impression of you being as much of a nuisance as dick is, if not more. but right now all your eyes hold is hostility and distrust.

"i'll be the judge of that." you snapped at him before plastering a helpless smile for alfred who, suddenly, very surprising of him, trotted back to your neighbour. and you just stayed rooted to your position as your mind errored because what the fuck????

alfred barely ever lets anyone touch him. he had a difficult time when he was just a puppy in an abusive household. he only trusted two people, one is you and your best friend.

you look up at the neighbour with the same dumbfounded expression and for the first time he found it in himself to smile, it was a bit cocky but a smile nonetheless.

"you... what.. what did you do to him? and why the hell did you break into my apartment?" you questioned as you rose to your full height, regarding him suspiciously.

he gave you an unimpressed look at your immediate assumptions before sighing, "i was in my apartment when i heard him growling. loudly. then he started barking. turns out someone was lurking outside of your apartment."

"what?"

"yeah. he had already picked the lock actually, acted like he was opening the door and claimed that he lived there. if i hadn't met you last night, i might have been given him the benefit of doubt. when i confronted he said he was dating you. but i knew that was bullshit." he shrugged like it was no trouble.

you were a bit stunned. yes you thought of him pretty, maybe a nice man but you never expected him to be nice, you never expect anyone to be nice. the world had taught you time and time again that humanity is scarce and kindness is a luxury.

"oh." you murmured before lightly shaking your head, "oh that's— thank you. i- where's that man now?"

his lips slightly tugged up in amusement at your stunned look, feeling maybe a teensy bit of pride to wrong whatever misconception you had of him. "he lives two floors up actually. don't worry i made sure he will be kicked out."

"....thanks." you mumbled out before rubbing the side of your face, you hated being in the wrong, and awkward and embarrassing situations like this. how the hell did you miss an asshole like that? you thought you knew everyone from the apartment as a safety measure.

"i- um sorry i assumed and accused you." you took his words as final because alfred was literally sat near his feet. alfred's a great judge of character.

but this time he didn't scoff or smirk, instead there was a soft smile on his face. he understood your anger after all. "s alright. i understand i also have—"

you froze when you felt something brush by your feet, something very soft and— "meow."

you looked down and there it is, a very adorable, very extra soft siamese cat, who is now staring down alfred like he wronged all her ancestors.

you look up at him with raised brows and with a tired sigh he points at himself, confirming your assumption.

"sorry-"

"can i pet?" you asked softly, looking up at him with such hopeful eyes that all he could do was nod. you crouched down and approached the cat carefully, extending your hand. the cat inspected a little before rubbing against your hand.

"who's this beautiful little baby?" you mused, grinning wide as you scratched the cat.

"... miss pearl." he mumbled too quietly but you have good ears, and unlike how he expected you to laugh at that, you simply smiled in great approval.

upon remembering something his brows furrowed again, "um sorry what did you say his name was?" he pointed at alfred and you looked up at him with most proud smile. "alfred."

"huh." that's a really funny coincidence and a small laugh started spilling out his lips slowly. you looked up at him with furrowed brows, "what?"

"no. nothing. great name."

"are you making fun of him?"

"you really think i would?"

"...hm."

you got up finally and smiled at him, it didn't have that sultry undertone— just a smile.

"again, thank you." you said and he nodded suddenly finding his cat more interesting to look at, his ears reddening.

"uh your place. great aesthetic huh." he said, diverting the topic and you looked around. it didn't look that much like a typical witch's home, but there were too many candles everywhere that normally, normal people don't really have.

his eyes narrowed a bit as he smiled amusingly, he did find that... eccentric.

there was a beat of silence as you looked at candles at literally every flat surfaces.

"i just really like candles. they're scented." you said with the most convincing smile you could conjure up. he didn't buy it, but didn't question it either. gotham is filled with every sort of weird after all.

slave to your habit you still ran your eyes around your apartment, while he picked up miss pearl, but everything was at its place. you really gotta put a spell on the damn door now, the lock had already been weak.

he was almost in his unit before you called out behind him, "all this help and you still won't give me a proper introduction?" that teasing tone was back in your voice.

he sighed in exasperation as he turned around, but weirdly enough, to reasons unknown to him, his ears felt warm again.

"jason."

"jason.." you grinned wide and replied back with your name before winking at him. he simply gave a deadpanned stare before shutting his door.

he let pearl go from his arms, while staring off at a distance, his eyes a little hazy as his mind repeated the way you said his name. shaking his head he scoffed, you were nothing more than just a weird little neighbour.

come next morning he's about to head to bed when he heard a knock. his brows furrowed as he wondered who the hell is bothering him this early. but there was no one when he opened the door, nothing but a small little tin box on the floor with designs engraved on it.

he picked it up suspiciously before taking off the lid, in there were some... tea bags? there was also a note, in there was a little message written in neat words.

this helps with insomnia. its my personal favorite too. hope you do know how to brew some tea.

your pretty neighbour ;)

now he realises what exactly feels weird when he sees you, its his silly little heart.

reblogs are appreciated! :))

taglist: @deadbeatphobos @lettucel0ver @fixated29