#But a prompt nonetheless

[ailithnight]

DPxDC Prompt #19

Had a dream where Danny and Kaldur got turned into teen tiny pet store goldfish together. The really small ones that are like 1-2 centimeters big. So do with that idea what y'all will.

[kyuyua]

What an era ⚡️

For Seven Holy Nights of Jeremy (Joel Week) Day 1: Throwback

[achillean-knight]

Probably wont finish my drawing for Mettaton May today, just bc I AM SO LOCKED INTO WRITING MY MARLUXIA VIDEO SCRIPT HEHEH (I'll do it tomorrow)

So ermmm just bc I probably wont upload anything, have this random ass mermay drawing of Marluxia I did out of boredom last night if this is anything lmao

Deadass never done anything for Mermay, so this is like, a random ass one-off

[obsessedwithstarwars]

Bruce: How was your class trip Damian?

Damian: It was quiet and productive Father.

Bruce: I’m glad to hear it. What was your favorite part?

Damian: I learned how to escape an Iron Maiden.

Bruce: …

Damian: …

Bruce: Explain please.

Damian: A boy Drake’s age taught me how to escape an Iron Maiden.

Bruce: How did he have that knowledge?

Damian: He claims his family has a dungeon full of medieval torture devices. I believe he may require further investigation.

[forbodium]

watching their partner become a villain (dialogue prompts)

written by me. please enjoy and use for whatever you like. remember to credit me when reposting.

“this isn’t you anymore. you never wanted to hurt people.”

“come back to me. please.”

“i know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“you have to stop this—before it’s too late!”

“turn you in? you know i could never do that.”

“don’t touch me.”

“do i mean anything to you anymore?”

“we can get away from all this; start over. no one has to know what you did.”

“if you love me, you’ll stop.”

“how long have you been planning this? did i ever even know the real you?”

“you can’t keep me here!”

“it’s okay. it’s okay. we can cover this up. where’s the bleach?”

“you promised no one would get hurt.”

“how do you expect me to sleep next to you at night knowing what you did?”

“okay, i’ll help you—but this is the last time.”

“are you going to kill me?”

“i didn’t want to believe you could do something like this.”

“what else have you been hiding?”

“i thought you cared about me.”

“no, i’m staying with you. ‘for better or for worse’, remember?”

“i can’t let this go on any longer.”

“you can do what you want with me—just don’t hurt the kids.”

“you’re not human.”

“could you change out of those bloodied clothes before you sit on my couch?”

feel free to add more prompts, and please reblog with your stories or tag me in them. i’d love to see your ideas!

[hyvyinjie]

hi! Can I ask for a headcannon about Minamoto teru x childhood friend reader? Where teru is really over protective and gentle towards the reader. Reader is a lazy person, and often sleepy, the things he likes are reading comics and playing game in their phone. They also refuses teru's invitation to join the student council. Thank you! :)

why of course! it’d be an honor to grant such an ask. apologies for taking quite a while to do so—though i hope my work meets your expectations, wonderful nonie!<3

—LOST IN THE HAZE OF YOUR DREAMSCAPE.

featuring ; minamoto teru & you as our star.

+ small akane & aoi mentions.

ah, minamoto teru; the very embodiment of perfection—as he was hailed and as he carried himself with utter conviction.

a master of powers, a paragon of academic prowess, and a maestro in all things extraordinary. could there be anything he did not conquer?

yet, his persona, a labyrinth of complexities, as if harboring a multitude of souls within his very being.

now, here you arrive in his peculiar life—meeting with the intricacies of his existence.

when your paths converged, it ignited a tempestuous collision, a clash of peculiar forces.

initially, your mere presence held no sway over him. in truth, he perceived you as an encumbrance, burdened by your languid nature. for he, a relentless pursuer of flawlessness, demanded nothing less.

but lo and behold. fate—that cunning trickster—wove its intricate threads, meticulously mending the frayed tapestry of your connection.

through the passage of time, a tapestry of happenstance encounters and the subsequent flourishing of interactions—a nascent camaraderie took root. he slowly, but surely grew attuned to your idiosyncrasies, harmonizing with your rhythm. while the power to surmount every obstacle at your side eludes him still, he persists, striving to offer his utmost.

oh please have mercy on this young man—forever enmeshed in the whirlwind of his exorcist duties. and yet, even amidst the chaos, his devotion knows no bounds when it comes to those he holds dear.

one might assume that quality time would be sacrificed for the trivial, but fear not, for you found yourself on the fortunate side—the one he’d willingly carved out moments to be with.

initially, your encounters were fleeting, brief snippets of time. however, as the sands of time trickled down, these fragments transformed into meticulously planned sleepovers. he meticulously orchestrated these occasions, ensuring they did not encroach upon his demanding schedule.

your bond thrived during these cozy gatherings, or tranquil rendezvous, where he wholeheartedly immersed himself in your passions—comics and video games.

though not extensively versed in these realms, one might imagine that you—with your infectious enthusiasm to the field—was the catalyst for his exploration and understanding of the realm of entertainment. this was evidenced by the gradual increase in invitations to game nights and his newfound willingness to engage in discussions about captivating narratives. perhaps, you both even exchanged recommendations for comics, as kindred spirits often do.

as the both of you and the world grew older—it became evident that he honed his social skills; presenting himself as a complete package. every aspect of his being held an irresistible allure, captivating the hearts of women, and even some fellow men. many yearned and openly expressed their desire to be the chosen one by his side.

however, even amidst the clamoring crowd, his gaze remained steadfastly fixed upon you.

of course, as the old adage goes; with great power comes great responsibility—the price of his popularity gradually revealed itself.

certain students, teetering on the edge of obsession, noticed the distinct tenderness he displayed towards you, surpassing his general kindness towards all. seizing upon this perceived vulnerability, they occasionally resorted to devious methods, seeking to eliminate you from the equation, taking advantage of moments when slumber claimed you.

naturally, he swiftly uncovered their plot, intervening before they could execute their nefarious intentions.

needless to say, the number of such audacious attempts dwindled significantly. what exactly he did to deter them remains a mystery known only to him and his would-be victims.

still, worried that the possibility of a recurrence and his absence to intervene, he took it upon himself to practically implore—some might even say beg—you to join the student council. this would ensure that he, or even akane if needed, could keep a watchful eye over you with greater ease.

however, true to your nature, you steadfastly rebuffed each futile attempt to persuade you. despite his persistent efforts, you remained resolute in your refusal.

eventually, your golden boy relented, recognizing that his endeavors were in vain…but that was just because he found an alternative solution.

he encouraged—forced—akane to be the one to look after you discreetly whenever he couldn’t. only choosing to partially reveal his intentions to avoid alarming you at the time, as you were unfamiliar with akane’s existence.

or so it had been until he observed that you and the school’s vice president shared a rather unique bond.

although akane would occasionally scold you for being so excessively somnolent, mistaking it for you being irresponsible, hence, occasionally comparing you to the greatness of his lady aoi—teru—ever vigilant and mindful of akane’s every interaction with you, ensured that his usual brutal tendencies were significantly tempered. still—it remained a part of the deputy’s essence, defining his very being, just albeit subdued in your presence.

it could be surmised that akane once attempted to tease—or rather, foolishly inquire, about teru’s subtle yet perceptible shifts in behavior whenever you were involved.

“it’s almost as if you like them.”

in an almost immediate reaction—the president paused, slowly turning his head to gaze at akane, a shadow casting a smile that concealed the upper portion of his closed eyes.

the ginger-haired vice executive, feeling an ominous presence despite the absence of visible eyes, found himself sweating profusely as he cautiously added,

“—to the point where anyone could mistake you for family!"

sensing the gravity of his words, akane mentally vowed to never broach the subject again. he restrained himself from ever mentioning it whenever he witnessed the two of you together.

curiosity gnawed at you as you noticed his all-knowing gaze transform into one of horror whenever you turned your head, as if peering behind you; at none other than the pretty blonde himself, who seemed to be doing nothing wrong, merely proven to have been innocently smiling the whole time, or so he put up whenever you looked back at him.

oblivious to the truth, you always dismissed it as ‘akane’s peculiar moments of ptsd flashbacks’ whenever he saw teru.

however, let me share a little secret with you.

did you know the true reason behind teru’s death stare? no? well, do you wanna know?

then do allow me to spill it for you.

it was simply because akane, using the keyword; "like," insinuated that teru had a ‘liking-only level’ romantic feeling for you. the misconception provoked such a reaction from teru, for he wanted to correct that statement because he loved you, not just liked you.

seriously, can’t people let him finish what he’s saying?

[moonshynecybin]

i thinkkkkk this one is gonna be part of something larger but here's the first part of a fic (2.8k so far) where the first chapter is literally just rosquez having a conversation in an airport set around jerez 2024… i also wanted to add some good ole marquez brother goof arounds:

“Look, if you’re just gonna make fun of me—”

“No, please! I wanna hear the rest of this,” Alex says, leaning into Marc’s space and raising his eyebrows, goofy. It makes Marc let out a big laugh— full and loud. He stretches against the plastic of the airport gate seating, the movement pulling at overtired muscles. It feels like they’ve been here forever.

It’s been a long journey back to Spain— storm delays and rerouting stranding them in the airport for hours. They’re still here waiting for a connecting flight, puttering away next to their gate and shooting the shit. It’s been a good weekend —a podium for him— but he’s tired, and ready to be home.

“No no no no, I’m done.” He settles into his seat, pushing Alex’s face away from him. Alex cackles, and Marc points at him. “But you should do that professionally!”

Alex pulls one of his mild, exasperated faces, and it makes Marc smile wider. They’re probably being too loud. Marc doesn’t care.

“You know,” Alex points out, dragging out the last syllable of know so it sounds like knowwwww, “You are the world’s absolute worst loser.” 

Marc shrugs. “It’s a good thing, too— in our line of work you have to be.” He’s unrepentant. It’s how he’s built.

He ignores the face that Alex is surely making and leans down to rummage through his carry on, looking for headphones. For sure, if he has to lose to anyone, he’d prefer it was Alex. With him, the nagging bite of loss usually manages to morph into something lighter, more fun, just because he knows Alex won’t ever blame him for how he gets, how involved he can be in winning. That doesn’t mean he enjoys losing—he’ll never enjoy that—but it takes it back to being a game. None of the anticipation of a sour aftermath that he’s faced in the past, the wait for the other foot to drop, and the play to slide towards resentment without him noticing.

“I doubt losing at a video game will help you gain a competitive edge on the track,” Alex asserts dryly, turning his attention back to his phone and tapping open the Kindle app. He’s been obsessed with those fantasy novels, lately. “You can’t win at everything.”

“Trust me, I know,” Marc laughs, rubbing at his arm. He needs to call his PT. Whatever. “But! I don’t think that first thing is true.” Banishing the thought from his head, he leans over to poke Alex in the arm. Alex swats at his hand, not looking up from his book, and Marc pokes him again, harder this time. “I have a winner mentality.”

“You have a loser mentality. You just lost.” Alex is staring at what Marc thinks is the table of contents.

“Semantics.” Another poke.

Alex looks up, incredulous. Victory. 

“You were cheating! And you still lost!” 

“But you don’t have any proof of that.”

And Alex shakes his head like he can’t believe him, laughs again. “You are insufferable.”

Marc grins and Alex sighs, scrubs a hand over his head.

“I’m going to go grab some water. Maybe eventually they’ll let us board this fucking plane. You want anything?”

Marc shakes his head.

“No, I’m good.” He ate earlier. He opens his phone back up, thumbs over his home screen. Nothing looks exciting. He hasn't been on instagram so much lately– avoiding comments.

He sighs and contemplates opening his dating app. He doesn’t.

Nothing’s felt— he’s busy. 

It’s always been too much— too complicated with his schedule, with travel, timezones, turning over battles in his head. Braking maneuvers and tire pressure edging out any relationship before it got off the ground properly. Lately, since his arm, and since Alex had told him to go find someone— it’s been nagging more.

But no one gets it. Not like he does. And he’s just never found someone that felt like they were worth all of the effort it would take, keeping a relationship together in a life like his, bending himself around racing. There’s been flashes, some false starts, but nothing has ever–

He hears a distracted chuckle behind his back, a light sound, happy, and it hooks him, hard. A sucker punch. He glances over, his previous train of thought abandoned.

It’s— 

He's heard that laugh before. 

They haven’t seen each other— properly, actually exchanging words— since last year. The end of the season. They were both in the bathroom at the Lights Out Gala. Marc in a tux, Vale in a flannel. Marc had held the door for Vale as he had left. 

Vale, once he’d registered his presence, had thrown him a thin lipped, restrained smile, and thanked him. Asked him vaguely about his surgery. Moved on.

And now he’s on the phone, a few feet away, and he probably hasn’t even seen Marc yet. Instead, he’s chattering lowly, head slightly tilted as he drags a thumb over the handle of his suitcase.

Marc has to wonder if stuff like this happens to other people.

Alex hasn’t left yet, but is about to. He's noticed, of course he noticed, and he tugs on Marc’s sleeve, voice low. “You need me to stay?”

Marc shrugs, shakes his head. He's been around Vale before, after everything, in close quarters even. It's fine. 

He's had a lot of practice.

Those last few years, before Vale retired, after Argentina—after Sepang, really, though he maybe hadn’t processed it yet— he worked on it a lot. On taking Vale off of the pedestal, making him more of a person. On realizing he was always going to have a different relationship to Vale than Vale would to him.

He works hard at that distance, enforcing it, maintaining it. Tending to it.

And he had gotten somewhere better, once he had realized that. Had stopped trying to say hi to him every time he saw him. Vale is his hero, and he knows by know that that’s never going to change completely. The precise way his presence lights Marc up, makes him giddy, the disbelieving undercurrent that Valentino Rossi knows his name— but he also has come to terms with the fact that it's never going to be like he imagined when he was twenty, and he thought maybe he could matter as much to Vale as he did to Marc.

He knows that.

But it was an adjustment. It took some time. It’s better now. He's used to it.

Now, he can sit at an airport gate with him and ignore him.

He’s probably been staring at his phone screen a little too hard. 

“Allora— so, how have you been?” A voice asks, simply, closer to his ear than it should be. Of course.

He puts the emphasis on you, the full force of him narrowed on the word. Marc stays very, forcibly still. Projects calm.

Vale’s across from him, now, got there without him noticing. His legs are spread out wide in the seat across from Marc, hat pulled low and posture easy. His face is neutral— pleasant. Marc knows that means absolutely nothing.

Vale’s gaze charts over him, carefully, taking him in. Marc swallows, steels his jaw.

Vale has always had a way of observing. Leveraging that beam of attention. He doesn’t miss a thing, never has, and he looks good— tired, but relaxed, thin frame bundled up in a hoodie, hat pulled low over his forehead. Incognito mode, Marc remembers him joking sometime in 2013, after they had snuck out of the paddock to grab a drink at a bar post media day. But you always dress like that, Marc had said, probably too confidently, and Vale had laughed, had leant in and said Well, if I want them to recognize me, I just wear the Yamaha shirt.

Marc blinks. Vale’s eyebrows are raised, expectantly. He’s been quiet too long.

“Why?” He asks pleasantly. No use pretending.

“How have you been?” Vale asks, evenly, continuing as if Marc didn’t talk. “It has been a few months, yes? Since we’ve seen each other? The gala?” He looks away, shrugging. “I wondered about your arm– it seems better.”

“You could have texted.” Marc says, furrowing his brow. He's being overly serious, he knows, but he’s curious. He didn’t expect Vale to text, knew he wouldn’t actually. It still, despite it all, prickled at him. Whenever he was injured, before, Vale would always ask. He hadn't, anytime in the last four years, despite the severity of the injury.

So why is he asking now.

Vale huffs a laugh, swipes a thumb over his phone case, waves it lazily. “My number, it ah, leaked.” He makes a face. “I had to get a new phone a while ago. I don't think your contact made it over.”

It’s better than him deleting it. Better than Marc expected, to be honest.

It could also be a lie.

“Oh. Well.” Marc, says, unsure how to continue. He smiles at Vale anyways, lifts his good shoulder, combing through his brain for what he actually wants Vale to know about his arm. Not lying, just slightly to the left of the truth. He doesn't want anything getting back to Pecco, but Vale can sense insincerity from a mile off.

“I can't complain. The last surgery, it helped.”

Vale’s eyebrows jump, making a little grimace. “I heard, it did not look very pleasant.”

The documentary, Marc thinks, Did he watch the fucking documentary?

“—Now it’s just the bike? Managing the new braking style?” Vale asks. Marc cannot fucking remember the last time Vale asked him two questions in a row.

“Ah, you know. Trade secret.” Vale’s team is also vying for the GP25 — best to keep as much as he can close to his chest.

Vale raises an eyebrow and Marc folds like a cheap stack of cards.

He sighs. nods. Who cares. Vale’s watched him ride for years, he knows Marc still has a little bit to improve on the year old Ducati. He’s seen the data.

“Now it’s just the getting the bike, nailing the setup.” He goes for the PR version of the truth. Nevermind that his arm is still in PT three times a week. The Ducati is good— Marc is having more fun. Fighting at the front. Adjusting easier than he thought he would.

But it’s not a Honda. He needs a bit more time, and he needs– he needs the factory spec. And it looks like Jorge Martin might be the one to get it.

Vale nods, neutral, like the conversation’s ending, like he’s being gracious with Marc’s answer, letting him keep his emotions close— and a sharp, unexplainable feeling digs into Marc’s chest, that same way it did when he was watching him from the seat over in whatever press conference, those first few years. He wants to keep Vale talking. Wants him to keep looking at Marc, wants to— Marc doesn’t quite know, exactly, but it feels a lot like he does on track, when he just can’t quite keep himself from reaching for the win.

He speaks. Vale’s gaze snaps back to him, head following after, a little lazier.

“You? How's endurance racing? Missing anything about MotoGP?”

He says like he doesn’t know. Like he doesn't keep tabs. Like people don’t ask him about Vale’s results.

Anyways, it's hard to be involved in MotoGP and not hear about Vale, even when he’s been retired going into three years now. People talk, always eager for Marc’s opinion on his great rival.

There’s a quirk at the corner of Vale’s mouth. Like he’s won something. Marc curls a fist tight, ignoring the feeling that he’s given information away.

“Some things.” Vale replies, an odd glimmer to him. His brow furrows, then: “I miss how it was around ten years ago, more.”

Marc blinks.

“— Getting old, I mean. It was not so fun, there at the end. I could see everything I wanted to do, every move I would've made on track, ” He sits down across from Marc, leans back in his seat, long torso bending with his lazy posture, the mood shifts and he laughs. “But I was too old! It was harder.”

Of course that’s what he meant. Marc doesn’t— he doesn’t miss Marc. doesn’t think about him much at all, probably. Wasn’t saying he missed how it was between them, ten years ago, when they were friends. Marc knows that.

“I'm getting up there, now.” Marc jokes, “Acosta, he is on the horizon.” He’s not sure it lands, but Vale huffs a laugh anyways, rubs at his eyebrow.

“You?” Vale asks, incredulous. That x-ray quality is back in his vision. He always— He used to always get Marc that way, when he would dial in and make Marc think the words he was saying mattered to him. 

Vale shakes his head, shimmies a shoulder, wags a finger. “No no no no, don’t try that– you are still young, you cant talk to me about old.”

Marc grins. He doesn’t feel it so much, now, the years between them, but it’s a nice reminder of how good it felt, being the up and comer on the scene. The next Valentino Rossi. That was fun.

But he’s older now, has been in the paddock longer than almost anyone, just like Vale had– and he can feel it, dragging at his arm. can see it, in the lines under his eyes, the unfamiliarity of the faces around him.

He wonders how Vale did it for so long. That slow decline— new people popping up every day, ones who learned from him, perfected ideas he pioneered, then using them against him. 

He remembers how he felt on the podium yesterday, and decides not to ask. He leans back.

“Ehhhh, you are not really that much older than me.”

Vale’s expression doesn’t change, still set at his default neutrally animated, but something charges in the air, and Marc gets the sense he wants to say something, toying with the edge of the cliff.

Marc searches for something that won’t rock the boat. He settles on a compliment.

“Pecco was good this weekend— He beat me. You trained him well.”

Vale’s shoulders slide down, relaxing minutely. The charge slips away. Success.

“Ah, he’s a lot better than he was when you showed up at the ranch ten years ago, yes.” 

Marc leans forwards, “Hey!” So much for avoiding fraught topics.

Vale tilts his chin, considering. “What did you say about him? I don’t think it was flattering–”

“—That was ten years ago! I’m wrong ONCE.”

“Once is enough!”

“Apparently.” Marc hits back. 

And it’s good— they’re laughing, Marc thinks, he’s laughing— but that last bit, the apparently, hangs there, snagging in Marc’s mind.

Once is enough. Apparently.

Vale’s smile dies slowly, once it’s clear Marc isn’t about to continue, and it’s odd. Not fraught, for once— though Marc hasn't been the best at recognizing when it was in the past, but he’s pretty sure here. The moment dangles for a second, as they sit across from each other in an airport looking at each other. Vale’s face is doing that thing it was earlier, where he seems to be on the verge of some moment, and his mouth opens. For some reason, Marc flushes hot on the back of his neck. His skin feels tight, and their eye contact holds.

“All good?” It’s Alex, coming back with his Smartwater.

Vale sits up straighter, immediately, posture snapping into place. He nods at Alex, who ignores him, and slides back into his seat. He shrugs at Marc, a little in-joke. What did I do? it asks, fully knowing the answer. Alex has never been as shy as Marc is about his feelings concerning Valentino Rossi. 

And it's that above anything that makes Marc feel like he’s dunked his head in ice water, reality crashing in. The moment snaps as Vale tucks back into himself, leaving Marc off his balance. He feels dizzy and a little off kilter, like he’s done something wrong, like he’s gotten away with something, something illicit, which is ridiculous — he’s just been sitting here.

Nothing’s even happened. They've been two meters away from each other the entire time.

They haven’t even touched.

Vale’s eyes are boring into him, blue and clear. Alert. And Marc catches a flash of— concern, maybe, his brow is creasing— and it tugs at Marc, makes him want to glance back and make him feel easy, lift the corner of his mouth, shrug his shoulders and dismiss Alex’s chilliness. Makes him hot and nervy, out of his skin with the need to do something he doesn’t have a name for.

He smiles.

Maybe he is doing something wrong.

Vale smiles back, and it’s brilliant.

The flight attendant comes over the PA. They’re boarding.

[charbies]

Linktober day 7 - sky island

[thebisexualwreckoning]

@jegulus-microfic | day 7 - regret | word count - 221

"James Potter, if you touch me I swear you will regret it!"

James smiles, all pretty and innocent, as if he isn't the devil incarnate. Regulus takes a step back and feels the backs of his knees hit the sofa. Fear grips his body and he raises his arms to protect himself against the coming onslaught.

It's too late though, and all he can do is squeal as James' cake smeared hands grip his face. There's chocolate everywhere, from his chin to his bloody curls. He hears the click of Barty's camera somewhere in the background, knows that this moment has been immortalised forever, but the only thing he can pay attention to is the way James is looking at him. Like he's something precious.

"Happy birthday Love," James says, voice soft and adoring and just for them.

Later, when the party's over and Regulus has scrubbed his face raw trying to get the cake off, the two of them lay in bed together. James is nearly asleep, head resting on top of Regulus' stomach as he runs his fingers through his hair.

"Hey James," he whispers, fingers stilling where they are. "You know I love you right?" James only hums in response, too tired to form the proper words.

"Good. Because if you ever pull something like that again I will be divorcing you."

[whennoodlesformwords]

One JoongDok Order (Cupid Au) To Go

Just thought of this one last night and it isn't as fleshed out but:

The Meal:

Kim Dokja as cupid, but he uses dreams instead of arrows bc apparently you only find out someone is attractive through dreams

The General Idea:

Yjh happens to have dreams of lee seolhwa from dokja bc dokja thinks they make a good pair but he happens to catch a glimpse of kdj as one of the bystanders in the dream and starts wanting to know more about this person who he’s never seen in real life and only shows up in his dreams

He consults lee seolhwa about it (which kdj thinks is a convo between the two that yjh is finally confessing that he dreams about her and is happy that they are getting together) but lsh says that any people we see in dreams are faces we’ve seen before kinda thing

So yjh starts thinking back to when he mightve seen this person, and this is where it can diverge a little bit

The Sides:

Yjh asks the internet/his followers on stream about this person (both a good and terrible idea). this gets the internet in a ruckus about who this person yjh is dreaming about and because he can't seem to draw kdj face by memory from his dreams, other people start coming forward saying they see someone similar, and the internet wonders about this phenomenon until one day all the question hubs, blogs, and streams of people talking about this random person is wiped clean, and no mention comes up ever again. yjh, wondering what happened, types another question onto the internet but is stopped as the words continue to, seemingly, disappear into thin air. he's persistent, though, and asks about it vocally on stream until he figures out that the chat can't hear what he's saying. trying a third time, he calls up lee seolhwa to ask and it isn't until she says she doesn't remember talking about such things with him that a weird person (hsy who else) appears behind him and tells him how the cupid came to be and how the identity of said person should never be discussed or found. With yjh use of the internet and other people, she had to scramble to do damage control and like hell she's gonna let yjh make her do all that again. So she spills that kdj was indeed a person, but after living a loveless life and eventually committing suicide at a young age, he was chosen as cupid - to bring people in love that he lacked in his life, never to understand the joy of having a partner. she likens it to a curse, saying it can't be broken, but now yjh is on a mission to make sure this cupid boi is loved. however, what happens when the matchmaker falls in love? they lose the position. so, unknowingly, yjh makes kdj fall for him and officially makes sure he isn't cupid anymore, brings him back to earth and all that (since dream realm in cupid access is kinda different ig?) and all of a sudden has to deal with the fact that a new cupid needs to be found and installed. oh no what happens next lol idk this is long enough for a side as is

Similar to previous, maybe not as convoluted, Yjh starts looking through albums of his childhood and notices how every time someone close to what this person looks like, they're in the edges of the photo and always blurry and younger than what yjh remembers seeing in his dream. It turns out kdj was a normal child before becoming cupid, and eventually yjh manages to contact kdj and find that he has no memory of being human, and that often times the camera can capture his essence as love within the world, like a rose-tinted lens. Joonghyuk, being inspired, asks if kdj would appear in all the pictures he takes to see if its true, and all of a sudden it devolves into photos of yjh and a random guy being placed all over his apartment, all flawlessly captured and beautiful and a work of art that professional photographers get jealous of. Agreeing with kdj that he wants to share this with the world, kdj 'haunts' yjh cameras to make all his photos end up very romanticized, and starts making a photoshoot business with weddings, prom nights, and all other special events. he gets known as the photographer nothing can hide from in a picture. this can go to either he gets so renowned that he picks up all sorts of hobbies, or goes professional and all, but it gets to the point that kdj starts 'cupiding' people in the photos and he starts being renowned as a matchmaker photographer too. After a while, though, because of some magic stuff and all that, kdj manifests himself in reality through all the love yjh 'captured' with his camera, and sacrifices his camera to make a body for kdj since it acted as a medium for his powers, and allowed kdj to not have to be a cupid anymore, and they live happily ever after the end. cheesy but eh

Since we had two happy ones, why not have one with more angst: Yjh refuses to sleep and tries to force himself awake if he dreams of lsh to get this cupid guy off his back. kdj takes it personally and they start fighting in the dreams. it devolves into chaos and ofc neither wants to articulate their feelings to the other ever, so they have a back and forth until kdj and yjh slowly become friends, and they use the dreams as a medium for talking all the time and developing a friendship. It goes so far that yjh, who used to have a wonderful sleep schedule, and then none at all, now sleeps all the time citing that he isn't all that busy and should just sleep. yjh slowly declines in health and consciousness so much that he actually starts slipping into a coma. its not until its too late that yjh realizes he's trapped into this dream realm with kdj forever, now that his body is too tired and used to sleeping remaining mentally in the dream realm with kdj, and its exactly how kdj planned it because he couldn't let this opportunity pass. yjh is happy that he gets to spend time with kdj now, forever, but can't help but worry about what happens to him in reality now that he's in a coma.... more open ended but definitely more angsty if thats what you like. definitely possessive kdj and reluctantly in love yjh, but take it as you want.

was torn between this and the spy x family au so i'll put this one on for now and return to the spy x family one bc that was sounds pretty straightforward (and will probably mean i get to write so much more because my brain won't be able to stop). this one was supposed to be smol, but hey, i started writing and couldn't stop so here we are. also with some angst, i know the ideas ive written so far have been pretty happy but i needed a little sadness otherwise it looks a little too happy of a situation

also, this might be for a different au, but cupid as a grown ass man who goes around unironically shooting people with arrows? i wanna write a crack and you bet your ass kdj or yjh are gonna be cupid. read a renheng fic around the same idea (couldnt find it again to finish it) but it was enough that i wanted to write something similar bc it was so funny

hope you enjoyed, is it obvious im putting more effort in writing than actual punctuation and capitalization? kinda gets tiring hitting the shift key and who needs proper formatting when you're gonna read this at max speed anyways? all i need are words and autocorrect so it comes across right (hopefully)

anyways have an awesome day and take care of yourselves~

[ziezii]

I'm Not an Actor

prompt by @nightmareme

cw // them being idiots (and a kiss scene woohoo)

“We’re leaving in five.”

“What, no! My curls aren’t going to curl themselves, Fushiguro.”

“This is what happens when you spend too much time finding what dress to wear.”

“Tch,” the auburn-haired girl groaned, turning her head to her partner, “I had to find the perfect dress to fit my stuff and can make me look pretty at the same time, unlike a certain someone who’s only weapon is his hands.”

He didn't pay attention to the quick jab and just replied, “Kugisaki, we’re running late.”

“Then don’t bother me! I’ll be out in ten.” and she didn't give the jet-black haired boy any room to argue, so with a reluctant sigh he nodded and went out of her hotel room.

As he thought back, this might be their first mission as a duo. Yuji had just finished three back to back grade 1 to special grade missions and Gojo told him to take a week off. Of course, that meant that his missions were moved to both him and Nobara.

A blessing in disguise? At least that’s what Gojo tells him after their final debrief on the mission. He doesn’t know what he means.

“Alright, done!”

“That was fifteen.”

“Psh, live a little, Fushiguro,” she nudged his shoulder playfully as they left their rooms to go to the ballroom for their mission, “be a little like Itadori.”

An eye twitch, though it goes unnoticed by her, “Itadori?”

“Yeah. If he was here, he’d probably comment about the new perfume I’m wearing, or compliment this dress. It doesn't take much to be kind, you know.” while for others this might seem like her usual jab, Megumi is taking it more personally than he thinks.

By the time he wanted to respond, they were already in front of the main ballroom. Like a natural, Nobara hooks her arm around his and pulls him slightly so they can go inside.

Megumi shook his head, this wasn’t the time to stress about his own personal feelings. He’ll face them one way or another (he’s joking, if he can, he would take them to his grave)

“We’re a little late, I hope you don’t mind.” Nobara gave the receptionist the sweetest smile that does nothing but tug at his heartstrings. “Of course not, what are your names? For checking on our attendant’s list.”

This should’ve been the moment where he responds, their fake names and backstory stored right into the back of his head. But he finds it impossible when the urge to summon his shadows runs high when he sees the way the receptionist’s looking at her.

“Oi,” Nobara nudged him by his side, glaring slightly, “answer him!” she whispers.

Megumi cleared his throat, muttering a quick apology and replied, “Nakai Aoi and Sakamoto Koji.”

“Alright then, please take your complimentary drinks here, enjoy your night!” the two nodded respectfully and entered the already crowded ballroom. Megumi didn’t realize that he’d tightened his hold to ensure she didn't get lost.

“Soo, what was that about, smart-ass? We could’ve gotten caught if you answered any later.” Nobara rolled her eyes, taking a sip of the wine before Megumi took it away from her grasp and placed it on a random table.

“Hey!”

“Don’t drink on the job, Kugisaki.”

“You mean Aoi.” now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “Answer my question, then we’ll follow through with our plan.”

“I’m not, an actor.” he makes up an excuse (a very poor one, but he hopes she doesn’t ask further)

“Tell me something I don’t know, Sakamoto-san.” sighing, she dropped the topic as quickly as she brought it up. “Alright then, let’s go.”

Their mission was quite simple actually, retrieve the stolen death paintings from the host’s waiting room and exorsice any curses if any.

When the two were thinking of the plan, Nobara suggested that he’d be the one getting it while she distracts anyone who comes in their way. As they expected, when they turn to the corner where the guest’s room was, they see two guards standing by the door.

Turning back, Nobara then says, “Wish me luck.” to which Megumi nodded. The auburn-haired girl then casually walked around, putting on a confused expression on her face.

One of the guards immediately noticed and asked, “What are you doing here, ma’am? The event is on the front.”

“Oh, really? Sorry, I might’ve walked too far in, I was just trying to find the bathroom.” she once again gives them a kind smile, “Would you boys tell me where it is?”

“Well,” the other guard seemed immediately swooned by her words and smile as he cleared his throat, “o-of course, ma’am. It’s just a few…” Megumi took their faltering voices as a sign and managed to morph his shadow and teleport right inside of the guest room.

Quickly finding the death paintings, he put them right inside of his pocket and morphed himself once again and arrived right in front of the door. Just as they planned, he sees Nobara’s figure appearing from where she previously left.

“Got it?” he nodded, patting one of his pockets.

“Alright, now let’s get the hell out of here. I heard there’s a new restaurant that has-”

“Hey, where did she go?!” the two of them froze, Megumi’s eyes widening as he looked at Nobara who bears the same reaction. Not thinking twice, he took her hand and immediately ran to a random corner.

He pinned her to the wall, making sure that those two guards didn't see her. “I thought you were supposed to lure them outside?!” he frantically whispers, looking down at her.

“I did! I’m just as surprised as you are!” their conversation didn’t last long when they heard the familiar footsteps approaching. Megumi was seriously reconsidering on asking Gojo why they put this mission for them, Nobara on the other hand is very much panicking.

At this point, Nobara was reacting from the adrenaline and pulled her friend’s collar, his eyes back to meeting hers. He looked confused, but Nobara couldn’t care and kissed him.

Megumi’s eyes widened once again, his whole body stiffening. His mind was racing with numerous thoughts, what is happening? What is Kugisaki doing? Is this a part of the mission?

But, just like her, along with his own pent-up feelings, he followed her lead before the control shifted over to him. Both of his arms encircled her waist, and pulled her impossibly closer.

When he heard the small and muffled moan escape her lips, he summoned a shadow from behind her and managed to escape the guard’s just a second away.

Nobara’s head was spinning, from the kiss and the feeling that she was floating. Hitting his back repeatedly, Megumi pulled away to give her time to breathe. His hands were still around her waist, calming down and taking in their surroundings.

They’re in his room. Nobara was pinned to the door as she also took some deep breaths, hiding her face on his shoulder.

“Y-You, we’re,” she swallowed, steadying her voice before trying again, “that kiss, I meant to do that for our cover, so why did you-”

A hand on her chin abruptly made her stop talking, his hand tilting her head so their eyes meet once again. He tries to keep his cool, but Nobara notices that he’s just as flustered as she was.

“I’m not, an actor, Kugisaki.”

[queerslurheritageposts]

If you're white, please can you not say bulldyke? That is a slur aimed at black lesbians. This is a just in case you come across it. I have been called it before and I would rather white people wouldn't say it. Thank you!

I am Black and am familiar with the term, but I'm also gonna post this as sort of a PSA because I've also seen it misused before by white folks who didn't know its history. The same is true for bulldagger (which is derived from the same term "bulldiker")- both words are generally used to refer to butch lesbians but especially Black butches specifically.

The exact etymology of the terms are unknown but the dehumanizing implication of "bull" is apparent. It is a term that, like others, has been reclaimed, but its use is complicated by its history of racialized usage; terms like "stud" are similarly racialized.

There's nothing wrong with reclaiming slurs, but be mindful!! Not all words are for all people, and some terms have more complex connotations than just meaning queer. Do your research!

[theperksofbeingstupid]

tu cuerpo ya no da más

Roier knows he's going to die. They brought someone new into the cell next to his the other day, the one that's been empty this whole time. He doesn't know when exactly, because the Feds did something to his food, and he's been sleeping at weird intervals on and off for the last week. Roier knows the ship is running out of power. They turned on the emergency lights weeks ago, and the main lights haven't come back on since. They've taken to placing physical locks on the doors to the cells instead of relying solely on their programs; he's seen them when he pretends to be asleep. Roier knows he's going to get out, and he'll make them pay.

my gift for @ender-princee for the @mcythorrorgiftexchange !!!! i hope you enjoy 💥💥💥 (and make sure to keep the tags in mind)

[achillean-knight]

I saw others doing this and I couldn't resist lol this is just for fun ngl 💪

[redclown19]

Days 1 and 3 of Cringetober 2024! I saw a bunch of people i follow do this (this year and the last) and thought it looked very fun.

[what-the-fic-khr]

I’m the anon who asked requested Tsuna for the tea prompts when you first did them and I am once again in a Tsuna mood (1? 2? years later lol??) and needing your beautiful writing lol. Can I request Black Tea, Chai and Milk Tea for him? Appreciate you and your work always!

banging my head against a wall, I wish these were a little longer or a little better, but they’re satisfactory enough I think. I hope you like them anyway, anon!! and thank you so much!!

character/s: tyl!sawada tsunayoshi, adult reborn, reader-insert (gender-neutral)

word count: —

warnings: n/a

prompt: tea prompts (black tea, milk tea, chai tea)

black tea; what do they look for in a person?

kindness, first and foremost. you must be a kind person, someone willing to help others. he’s met all kinds of personalities, but above all they all come together when help is needed. that goes for a partner. especially because as a kid he was treated so roughly; someone who is nice is the foundation of a perfect partner for him.

“Tsuna, I brought you some food.”

You held up a plate with a couple pastries on it and Tsuna hummed lowly. “Thank you, dear. You didn’t have to.”

“You haven’t taken a break in a few hours now, so of course I did. You can’t focus if you’re hungry.”

You only smiled when Reborn made a low noise, something like amusement. “Perhaps you coddle him too much? What would he do without you?”

“Ehh, I think it’s fine to coddle him a little bit!”

You set the plate down gently on Tsuna’s desk after he made some space for it. “Right? You’ll let me coddle you, won’t you?”

Tsuna pet one of your hands gently before taking it in his and squeezing. “Thank you. If you’d like to, you can. I appreciate it.”

“Yay. If you need anything, just ask.”

“I will, thank you.”

milk tea; what are their kisses like?

gentle, but confident. once he gets older, and has been with you for a while, there’s no hesitation in his kisses, or any of his actions. after a while, he becomes comfortable and thus does not need to worry about what he does, especially because he learns quickly what you do and don’t like as well

“I found you. Have you eaten yet?”

You turned to smile at Tsuna as he entered the kitchen, one of his arms slipping around your waist comfortably. “No, not yet. Why?”

You tilted your head without any instruction to, like habit, and Tsuna pressed a kiss to your lips with a pleased hum. It was short, and you followed him when he pulled away. His soft laugh could be felt on your lips.

“I wanted to come get you so we could go get lunch together, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is.”

chai tea; how do they spice up their relationship?

assuming his partner can’t fight, he probably doesn’t take you many places with him when it comes to jobs, missions, etcetera. so I think he would fix this by taking you on specific trips overseas that are unrelated to work; if it’s unrelated there’s less chance people know where you’ll be and he gets to spend more intimate time with you, so it’s a win-win. the best one was obviously taking you to Namimori for the first time

“Ahh, what a cute, quaint town! It’s so nice here.”

Tsuna watched you rock back and forth as you looked out the window of your hotel, taking in the town again after you’d gone exploring earlier in the day.

“I’m a little jealous of you all. What a nice place to be raised in.”

“Mm, I agree. I think it’s a great place to raise a family.” He paused for a moment. “I had fun growing up here.”

You hummed lowly, thinking over his short pause carefully. You straightened, pushing off the windowsill to turn and face him, leaning back against it.

“I bet it was! Haha, thinking of you all running around causing trouble for everyone… Makes me wish I could’ve met you all sooner.”

He smiled widely at this, head tilting. He stepped closer when you waved at him too, crowding you up against the window. You happily grabbed his coat and tugged him down closer, lips ghosting over his.

“I think you would have fit in well with our little group,” he murmured. “But we can make new memories now, so it’s fine, isn’t it?”

“Right. We can start right now, too. Indulge me?”

“Of course.”