#ivy ∘°∘♡∘°∘ writes

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Heya Ivy !! sorry to hear the motivation train's been running low, i hope the spark relights soon <333 may i req a 🥧 love crust pie with Barty ? You read me (🩷) so well last celebration with the fairy's arrow, I do love a cheeky bit of Barty every now n then lol

hope you're doing well lovely <333

🥧 love crust pie — barty edition 🥧

flavour: clingy boyfriend energy, crumbs shaped like hearts he swears weren’t on purpose and hand-holding like it’s a full-time job (it is)

a/n: heya angel!!! thank you so much, i��m manifesting a comeback tour for my braincell right now. also barty?? oh you mean my little freak?? absolutely. pie incoming.....

one thing about barty crouch jr is… he’s gonna do things for you that you didn’t even realise needed doing. like, you’ll be sitting there going “where’s my—” and he’s already walking in holding it like “obviously you’d forget it. i’m the brains in this relationship.”

his love language is acts of service and physical touch, but not in the normal, polite way. no. this man will peel oranges for you but aggressively. he’ll glare at anyone who touches your coffee order because he was already on his way to get it, thanks. he makes you breakfast and it’s slightly burnt but you will eat it because he made it and stood there looking proud the whole time.

he’s clingy in a way that’s so quietly intense — like he doesn’t need everyone to see, but he needs to be touching you. always. pinky linked through yours, hand on your knee, head in your lap while you’re trying to work. you’ll move slightly and he’ll grumble like a cat that’s been kicked out of a sunny spot. “you moved.” “you were crushing my arm.” “your point?”

and he’s not flashy about the stuff he does — he just does it. fixes your broken wand. replaces your hair tie stash when he notices they're becoming too loose. learns your tea preferences and makes it exactly right, glaring if you don’t notice. “you always forget sugar, so i put in two.” “…i didn’t even ask.” “but you need it. you get grumpy.” "barty, you don't do this for my validation only, right?" (he’s pouting. he’ll deny it)

he loves you like it’s second nature. shows it in how he folds your blanket over your legs without saying anything, or how he waits for you to fall asleep first like he’s guarding your dreams.

he’ll never say he’s soft — but he is. especially with you.

pie’s got a little burnt edge— barty tried to “fix” with icing sugar (it made it worse. it’s cute anyway). he bit a heart into the crust like a menace and now insists it’s romantic

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

[angels-of-horror]

She hopes he’s watching.

She hopes he’s using that detective’s eye for detail in the perfect moment when Selina’s sharp, manicured nails claw into Ivy’s skin, leaving behind desperate trails of crimson and clover. She wants him to hear the way his girl whimpers when Ivy’s lips are against her, repeating Selina’s name like the earth will die if she doesn’t.

Cat. Her Cat.

He might have her, but Gotham’s Dark Knight deserves to know he’ll never make Selina Kyle beg like this…Not the way she begs for poison.

Loosely inspired by this post ♡

[bittcrsuite]

closed starter for @jawbrkrs ♡

ivy had been watching out the window, waiting for omari to come home to her. she missed his game for a shoot, but she heard all about it. between a call from the medic and the highlights she caught in her cab ride home, ivy was caught up enough to know how horrible omari likely felt. as soon as she spotted his headlights turning into the driveway, she scrambled into the kitchen to grab the wine and ice cream she stopped for on her way home. "hey." ivy called gently as soon as she heard the front door open. she stood in the doorway with her hair piled to the top of her head in a claw clip and a silk robe tied around her waist. with the open wine bottle in one hand and a pint of ice cream in the other, she gave omari a small smile. "we don't have to talk about it — or we can, whatever you want. on one condition." she turned on her heel, crossing the room to enter the dimly lit bathroom. "we do it in here."

[ivystoryweaver]

Do you have any odd writing habits? Also I’m sorry that you are stuck at work hun! 😪 We got this doeee 🍾🥂 (might send in more q’s during my lunch break)

That’s a great question!

Ok, this is all i can think of: When I don’t know what to write, or when I’m not 100% in the mood to write, or focused in, I will open all the tabs of my WIPs on my computer. Then I set a 5 minute timer.

Start with the first fic. Say “Decadent”. I’ll work on it for 5 min, even if I just re-read what I have so far. Then write something down, even if it totally sucks. When the 5 min timer goes off, if I’m over it, and nothing’s flowing, I close the tab.

Next fic: “Spectre” (Or whatever). 5 min, go. Same procedure

RARELY do I ever close a tab after 5 minutes. By giving myself an “out”, I feel free to just get stuff “down on paper”, even if it’s rough.

Sometimes, I get a paragraph on each of like 4 WIPs done right before bed just from doing this. Which is my fault for having more than like 2-3 WIPs lol. But most of the time, I just get in a 30-60 minute flow for one story.

What about you?

Thanks!

[marvelstoriesepic]

Eyes made of Starlight

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Maid!Reader (Cinderella Au)

Summary: You are drawn into a royal masquerade by a mysterious woman with a magical mask.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Classism (social hierarchy themes); self-worth struggles; fantasy themes (fairy godmother, spells, illusions); power dynamics; magical disguise

Author’s Note: Oh how I loved writing the magical Cinderella vibe!! This amazing request also comes from my lovely darling!! I hope you'll enjoy this as well, beloved ♡

2k Drabble Challenge Masterlist | Masterlist

The palace walls groan with music. Light spills through stained glass. You can hear the laughter of women who never had to scrub anything in their lives.

You have no reason to be here.

You have no right to be here.

The gown does not belong to you.

The mask does not belong to you.

This moment does definitely not belong to you.

You shouldn’t be here. Not walking under crystal chandeliers, not between silk-slick gowns and heels carved from heaven. Not with perfume-laced air choking your lungs or golden music playing with your ribs. Your hands are calloused. Your eyes are too wide. You walk as if waiting to be punished.

Because you will be.

You are nothing but a maid in this place. One of many. A slip of a girl with sore fingers and silent steps, always in the background, always apologizing.

You had ash on your hands just this sunrise. Streaked across your apron. Tangled in your lashes.

You had scrubbed the same hallway twice - once out of duty, once out of nerves.

You are not meant to be here among those royals, and yet you are.

The mask that sits on your face is not just a disguise. It’s an enchantment. Deep green velvet shaped like leaves, spun with gold threads that glow when the light hits just right. You remember the exhilaration you felt when you held it in your hands after it was placed on your bed. Remember the woman who you believe put it there.

No one speaks to her. No one trusts her. They call her strange, witchy, always lingering too long in the shadows of the garden wall, half-swallowed by ivy and moonlight. She has been a part of the place longer than anyone seems to remember, sweeping corners no one else would touch, talking to birds like they can answer her.

Everyone avoids her.

They say she curses the cooks and sings to the moon and never ages a day past forty.

But you have spoken to her. Brought her bread once, tucked it into a cloth napkin with a wildflower and an apology. Timidly waved at her when you saw her standing cloaked in midnight-colored shawls that fluttered like wings.

And one night ago it was just there. The mask. Lying under your sheets, ready to be worn. You don’t know why you actually decided to do it. You never would have. It’s not a decision you would even consider. But somehow, you pulled on that mask and were suddenly dressed in a gown more worthy than your life.

You are trembling now, standing at the edge of the ballroom. The candlelight plays games with your shadow. You can feel your heartbeat tap-tap-tapping against your ribs.

The clock chimes nine.

The doors open wider and the crowd shifts.

You saw him once.

The prince.

You were delivering lines for another maid who either quit or vanished or both. And on your new route, you saw him at the end of the corridor, coming closer with each step. He had been dressed in navy and silver, his hair pulled back and his expression unreadable.

You tripped and dropped the stack of sheets in your panic, not expecting to just encounter the real prince on a simple delivery. Not as a simple maid. You hated yourself for being in his way.

And when the sheets met the floor, you didn’t breathe.

Just watched the crown prince himself bent - bent - to help pick them up.

Just watched him smile at you and ask if you were alright.

As if he wasn’t a prince and you weren’t made of floor polish and forgotten names.

You didn’t stop thinking about it since. Didn’t stop thinking about him since.

You don’t even recall if you even answered him or kept staring all while blushing so hard your skin stung.

All you are able to recall is that he had eyes like storms and a mouth made for poetry, and something about him - something in the way he looked at you, not through you - unraveled your spine.

That was weeks ago.

And now he is here.

And you are too.

He enters without fanfare, without guards, without his title dragging at his heel. He wears deep blue tonight, with black embroidery shaped like curling vines across his shoulders. His dark hair is loose, falling just below his ears.

He is beautiful. But in a way fire is beautiful. Dangerous and too bright to look at for long.

He stands there like a painting brought to life.

He scans the room and stops suddenly.

On you.

Eyes lock.

Breath caught.

Your heart drops out of your chest and slams into the floor.

He is staring. Not at the dress. Not at the mask. Not at your lips or your waist or your trembling fingers.

He’s staring at your eyes.

As if he is trying to place them in the sky.

And then he is moving. Descending the stairs slowly as if the floor belongs to him and he is offering it to you.

The crowd parts for him.

People turn to watch. Whispers start.

You want to run.

You want to melt.

You want to rewind the world and be a maid again and never take that mask from that strange woman and never come here.

You clutch the sides of your gown, panic boiling in your chest. You could run. You have to run. He can’t know.

But he’s already there and you are not moving.

“Don’t go,” he speaks and his voice is velvet.

He is standing in front of you now, impossibly close, all shadows and silver eyes staring straight into yours.

Deliberately, and without taking his eyes off of yours, he offers his hand.

“Dance with me,” he says. “Please.” His voice is deep. Genuine. A request.

A prince should not talk to a maid this way. You are sure he wouldn’t if he knew who you were.

But a maid also cannot say no to a prince.

So you take his hand with shaking fingers and the second you touch him, you are pulled into his arms, into his chest. The music swells around you as if it were meant for this.

You dance like the world has forgotten gravity.

His touch is light and guiding. One hand presses against your back, the other is intertwined with yours. He doesn’t say anything about the tiny nicks in your palm you got while hanging linens out to dry and forgetting the rose bushes behind.

Never in your life have you danced before.

Never in your life have you felt the proximity of a dance partner or the sequence of the steps to the music.

Your mind doesn’t know but somehow your body does. Your body moves as though it’s been waiting its whole life to be near him. To dance this dance with him.

Perhaps that too has something to do with the mask.

Music rises. Time bleeds away. It feels like flying. It feels like burning.

He looks at you. Doesn’t stop looking at you. And you wonder if he sees past the magic. If he sees the girl who cleans his windows and folds his sheets. The girl who dropped them in front of him and stammered out an apology so awkward she wanted to dissolve on the spot.

Your breath is suspended like the stars outside the palace windows. His hand rests against your back, the pressure just enough to keep you guided, not enough to push. The thumb of his other hand moves in slow circles over your skin and you find yourself staring at it.

His head tilts down to you.

“You keep looking away,” he observes slowly, calmly.

You look up and his gaze is already waiting for yours. “Excuse me?”

“Your eyes,” he adds, voice gentle. Quiet. “You keep hiding them.”

He leans in even closer. You hold your breath. Your steps falter.

“The most important part of dancing,” he states quietly. “is eye contact.” His eyes don’t leave yours. “Everything else follows if you don’t look away.”

You feel the breath of his words against your skin and it makes you hot.

He is not teasing. Not amused. Not quite serious either, but sincere. Thoughtful. As if this moment means something to him too. As if it’s not just your heart fighting its way out of your chest.

You swallow. “Why is that?”

He pulls you closer, shifting his grip. His voice drops even softer. “If you don’t look at your partner, you cannot read them. You cannot anticipate the next step. Cannot be ready to catch them if they fall.” Something passes through his expression.

A beat. His gaze dips to your mouth. Your chin. Back to your eyes.

“And people fall.”

The words land inside of you immediately and you feel them spark a fire that heats up your neck.

You blink a few times, snapping your gaze away from him only to have his hand leave your back to turn your head in its right position - looking at him. His thumb brushes your jawline before he pulls away and settles right at your back again.

As if nothing happened.

You force yourself to nod. Careful. Like if you move too fast the spell will shatter and you will wake up barefoot in the laundry quarters with soot on your face.

He watches you some more. The way your eyes move over his face. The way your brow is twitching. The way your breath is uneven.

You almost stumble. He steadies you effortlessly as if he’d known it would happen.

“Try again,” he encourages gently. “Just look at me.”

You meet his eyes again. Fully. The ballroom fades. The velvet and glass and gossip melt. The crowd around you spins in their own perfect orbit but this is something slower. Something more important.

He leans in another time, breath ghosting your cheek. His voice is a whisper.

“Do you think I could ever forget your eyes, hm?”

Your heart drops alongside your stomach.

The clock chimes midnight.

One.

Two.

Three.

You stumble back. Out of his hold. Out of his arms. Out of his orbit.

The mask is growing warm. Too warm. Your vision flickers. Your dress begins to dull, like color draining from a dream.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice breaking, rushed. “I have to-”

And you turn.

“Wait-” he almost shouts, desperate, confused. “Please tell me your name-”

But you are gone.

Glass slippers skim the marble. Tears burn behind your eyes and make it hard to see. The mask slips from your face as you disappear into the night, heart hammering loud enough to break open the stars.

[blondejellykitty]

₊♡ ˚⊹ only for you ₊♡ ˚⊹

୨୧ damian wayne x reader ୨୧ Damian didn't understand the point behind useless holdiays but he'd put up with them for you. a/n: (0.5k words) damian and reader are college/uni age. this might be ooc, but i tried for my first time writing damian x

You sat in the luxurious bedroom of Damian Wayne. You'd both been studying your separate assignments for your professors. After a few hours of grueling work you both agreed on taking a break.

Damian sat at his desk scrolling through various news articles reporting crime in Gotham City. You lay on his bed sinking into his expensive pillows. You were scrolling your phone when you saw an ad for valentines day sales.

Valentines day! You'd almost forgotten about it because of all the extra school work you'd been given. You checked the time, lucky enough it was around lunch time.

"Damian, it's Valentine's day! Today! We almost missed it" You  squealed, leaving your phone forgotten beside you.

"So?" Damian spun around in his chair to face you, your smile dimmed slightly.

"We have to do something! It's our first Valentines together, it'll be fun!" You chirped, waving your hands around in emphasis.

"Fun? Prancing down the street, having to dodge the paparazzi and reporters. Then finally getting to where we want to go, and being surrounded by obnoxiously affectionate couples trying to prove that they're more in love than the ones next to them. That'll be fun?" His eyebrow raised in mock question.

"Promise." You nodded even though you knew he was joking, it still hurt a bit. "But we don't have to if you really don't want to. We can spend the day here" You thought your voice held the same enthusiasm as before but he could read you better than himself. He leaned back in his chair.

"I just don't understand why I need a holiday to prove I love you?" He spoke with such seriousness it almost made you laugh.

"It's not to prove anything Damian, it's just a fun holiday that couples spend together" Your voice trailed off with a laugh and his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"Yes, to show they love each other but I show you that daily do I not?" He huffed and crossed his arms.

"Of course but this is like a double- or triple special. Plus everything is decorated in pink and heart shaped! It's the best holiday, don't you think?" You gushed with excitement.

"Mhm, I'm not convinced" His lips quirked to the side, so you knew he was teasing you.

"What if I said it's my favourite holiday? Even more than halloween!" You said playfully.

You'd had a similar argument the year before when October came around. You'd only been together a few months and he didn't like the festive spirit that overcame you. It was the first argument you'd had together. It ended with him dressed up in a matching costume with you.

"Then I suppose we should do something, since you like it so much" He stood and walked over to where you now sat cross-legged on his bed.

"Really? Can you get me roses too?" You smiled up at him as he stood in front of you with his hands cupping your cheeks.

"Love, I'll buy you an entire garden. I'll buy you every flower in Gotham. I'll even fight off Poison Ivy for them if I have to" He promised and you giggled at his dramatics.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead before helping you up and you both began to get ready for your busy day out.

[zraiusxo]

love the way you write hange. so sad you stopped 'a game of composure' for a while, but your other fics are great too!!! ❤️ but can i request nerdmin x fem!reader? PLEASE. i need more nerdmin oneshots. with yk frat boy eren, connie hosting the best parties, art student jean, sasha your first campus friend and gothkasa who's just- there. wherever eren is. even hange as our professor lol. reader's from a rich family, but that doesn't mean her parents are controlling in every aspect you know. they let her decide what she wants. you can decide the rest, fluff? sure, would love that. smut? yes spice it up! ignore this if u don't want to! ❤️

♡ part 2 (smut) warnings: suggestive content, alcohol consumption, curse words, substance used, lewd humor, crude jokes, suggestive dares, public intimacy, all characters are aged up. not proofread. credits to @ маша мышка on tiktok as inspiration for this fanfic.

Armin Arlert College AU ♡

Your mother called it a phase. Your father, ever more dramatic, called it a downgrade.

To them, Stohess University wasn’t even on the map. And even if it was, it certainly wasn’t anywhere near the ivy-covered brick walls of the institutions they'd spent your life grooming you into an elegant and dignified lady for.

But you didn’t want to be in another university where everyone was already rich and miserable.

So you transferred. Out of your private, exclusive, east coast academy and into a chaotic, loud and messy public university where people wore pajamas to class and professors said “fuck” in lectures.

And oh, it was perfect! You didn't have to stress about keeping your name clean because the principal was acquainted to your parents, didn't have to worry about making connections with your peers who also belonged to wealthy and influential families.

Except, nobody talked to you at first. Well, that was a given.

You stood awkwardly right by the entrance of the campus, looking completely out of place, dressed in designer from head to toe. Other students gave you condescending looks, looking as if you had gotten lost on your way to your super posh and distinguished private academy.

Though you hadn't quite minded, your branded mary janes clicking against the tiles as you entered the hall, steps measured. Cause you knew you did look out of place. Like you didn't belong here, and maybe that's because you didn't.

Finding your way to your first class wasn't much of a challenge, the building layout was simple and you managed to arrive at lecture hall 2 minutes before the bell rang. You sat at the very back, just by the door. You didn't want to bring unwanted attention to yourself.

The few remaining students spilled in with soft chatters, and your professor followed shortly after the bell rang with a loud greeting of good morning that echoed off the walls and woke up sleeping students with a flinch. They looked— well, rather disorderly. But they taught well, even when most of the students weren't listening, sleeping or when someone would impolitely talk over them.

You sat straight. Didn’t interrupt. Only taking down notes, cause you were actually listening. Then came a chirpy voice a seat away from you, bright and breezy. "Hey, you're new." That was her first line. She said it like you were a gift she’d been waiting for. “I’m Sasha! You’re gorgeous. We’re friends now.” Sasha moved to the seat beside you casually, a little grin on her face.

"Hello, Sasha. I'm Y/N. Pleasure to meet you." You held out your hand for a handshake, offering a kind smile. But instead of shaking your hand, the brunette gave you a high-five instead, and it left you a little dumbfounded.

She giggled at that, leaning in a little. "Wanna sit with us later at lunch? We're cool I promise!"

"Us?" You asked with a slight tilt of your head.

Sasha glanced to her side, gesturing towards a guy two seats away. "Connie," He looked up lazily, eyes deprived from sleep. He was dressed in an oversized hoodie and joggers with his phone in hand, his hair buzzed and platinum. "This my fancy new friend, pretty right? She speaks in italics. Say hi!”

"Yo," Connie moved beside Sasha with an easy smile, kicking back in the seat before giving you a once-over. "You transferring from Mitras or some? Y'look fly as hell girl."

You chuckled, shrugging. “Private school, yeah.”

“Mmmmhm, yep. Explains the posture. You sit like you got a family name to protect.” He added with a laugh, winking in your direction like a compliment.

It was the start of something. Of people. Of laughter that didn’t echo off chandeliers or clink against champagne glasses.

Bell rang soon enough, and Sasha dragged you to the cafeteria, speed-walking down the hall with Connie who quite literally dapped up almost everyone who passed by. Sasha sat you down beside her and him in their "usual" table, and then came a tall raven-haired girl with dark red lips, long winged eyeliner, and an intimidating silence that somehow wasn’t off-putting.

Sasha waved a cheery hi before wrapping her arm around your shoulder. “Hey Mika! Meet our new friend, Y/N." Mikasa sat down beside you without a word. "Y/N, this is Mikasa. She doesn’t talk much unless you’re Eren, or someone interesting.”

"Eren?" You ask half-heartedly.

Mikasa said nothing at first, just gave you a long, assessing look before offering a subtle nod. Approved. "You'll meet him eventually."

The conversation dragged on, switching topics about who to avoid or when Connie's next party's gonna be cause they wanted you to come experience his parties too, claiming it'd be an unforgettable college experience. They became your people, fast. Connie supplied laughs (and edibles), Sasha helped you adjust to this new environment and Mikasa taught you how to say no to creeps without uttering a word.

You learned about the extended crew— Jean Kirschtein who in one random Tueday noticed your sketchbook in art theory and asked, “Holddd up. You actually know what chiaroscuro means?” You were friends by the time the lecture ended. He was honest and talented, always scribbling on napkins like his hands moved faster than his brain.

Eren was a name you heard often from Mikasa, followed by a groan from Jean or a laugh from Connie. Armin was barely mentioned, usually in academic contexts, like a trivia answer. You hadn’t met them, not that you really cared. Because despite being pulled into this growing web of personalities— you didn’t know everyone.

Sasha had begged you to come yesterday just as you were about to leave, her arm looped around yours as she rested her head against your shoulder sideways.

“Y/N pleeeeasuh? It'll be fun girl. I promise! Like, trust.” she’d whine, wrapping an arm around your shoulders like the persuasive devil she was. “It’s Connie’s party! No one misses his parties. Everyone will be there! Eren. Mikasa. Armin—” She continued, not stopping till you finally agreed to go.

You were overdressed. You knew it the second you stepped out of the Uber with and heard the bass from halfway down the street.

People were everywhere— on the porch, the lawn, halfway up the damn roof. Red solo cups littered the grass like confetti. A guy in a Pikachu onesie was throwing glowsticks into the bushes while someone else chugged something out of a blender. This wasn’t your scene. Nope, definitely not.

The last party you went to had a dress code and valet parking.

Now, standing in front of the door while people screamed along to a song you didn’t recognize, you regretted the tailored black dress and pointed heels. You’d grown up attending galas, banquets, and rooftop champagne soirées.

You were a private-school princess. The kind of girl who grew up sipping champagne at banquets with names like “Winter Charity Gala.”

This was more… frat party, spilled vodka and some girl trying to shake her ass on a folding chair.

You were debating whether to continue walking in or text Sasha you couldn't make it tonight and leave when a loud familiar voice yelled from inside—

“SHE’S HERE Y'ALL,” Sasha launched out of the doorway like a cannonball, dragging you inside before you could even react.

“WELCOME TO THE PIT, BABY!” She screamed over the loud music vibrating against the walls. “RULE ONE: DRINK. RULE TWO: SMOKE WEED!”

You laughed despite your senses being overwhelmed. Strobe lights flickered. Inside was chaotic as hell. And you couldn't hear your thoughts 'cause the music boomed too loud against the speakers. Someone was doing a keg stand in the kitchen. A girl crying as she collapsed down stairs. Eren Jaeger standing shirtless on a shaky table screaming “capitalism is a prison!” while people chanted with him like they were protesting. Mikasa sat on the armrest of a torn-up couch near Eren like a queen overseeing chaos, black lipstick untouched despite the humid heat.

"Heyyyy, Y/N. Where my hug at?" Jean walked up with a bottle of smirnoff in his hand and gave you a half-hug, a small smile and a pencil tucked behind his ear. "What's good? Thought ya wouldn't show." He half-shouted, loud enough for you to hear over the loud music.

"AYE GIRL, Y'ACTUALLY CAME!" Then came Connie, loud as ever, with his hand held up. You thought he was gonna offer you a handshake but he dapped you up instead, catching you off guard. He pulled away, stumbling a bit from the tipsiness and accidentally spilling Gin on your arm. "Oops, my bad gang. But y'still look like a dignified lady. So it's aight, right? Sorry girl." He laughed before getting distracted once again, screaming at someone who accidentally broke his mom's vase in español.

Sasha introduced you to some people who at first felt intimidated by your appearance, but they quickly vibed with you a couple minutes in the conversation. They let you taste drinks that burned your throat and made you a little tipsy— thank god you weren't a lightweight. Or else you would've blacked out somewhere.

You made friends with a blonde girl, Historia Reiss who you actually had lot in common with. She used to go to a private conservatoire not far from your old academy. Said her daddy transfered her here cause she needed to learn manners and be rid of the attitude. Typical rich and pretty mean girl. But it kind of did after she met Ymir who was quick to put her in her place.

And then there was Armin.

He was awkwardly tucked near the hallway, clearly trying to disappear into the drywall. A green shirt over a black hoodie. Converse. Hair a little messy like he’d run a hand through it too many times. Glasses slipping down his nose. A book in one hand— a book. At this party.

Sasha nudged your side, glanced over at him, and grinned. “That's Armin Arlert. Certified genius. Terrible at parties. He's in our friend group. We love him.”

You mused with a raised brow. "He brought a…. book?" A literal textbook. Physics. Dog-eared and post-it’d. "In this hell hole?"

“Always does. Says it makes him feel like he has an exit strategy. Can't talk to pretty girls, or else he'll self destruct. So go easy on the boy, 'kay?" She joked and you nodded with a chuckle.

You watched as Eren, who was still sweaty and shirtless slung an arm around Armin’s neck and pulled him into a headlock-laced hug. Armin half-smiled, the kind of bashful, helpless smile that tugged at something low in your stomach.

But you were used to posh. To sleek and polished. Armin looked like he hadn’t realized he was handsome. That was rare. That was dangerous.

A little while later, after drinks with Historia and her girlfriend Ymir, offered by Connie (a suspiciously sweet one made by him called "brain syrup") and after dancing with, well… Biology Professor Hange to some cursed remix— Sasha shouted from across the room over the music, already pulling a glass bottle out of her bag like she’d brought it specifically for this.

“GAME TIME LOSERS!”

It was inevitable. A Connie Party always descended into chaos games by hour three.

Jean raised a brow. “That ain't even even empty, Sash. That’s a half-full bottle of peach schnapps.”

Sasha shrugged. “And I give a fuck? Adds flavor.”

“We’re too old for this,” Mikasa said flatly, standing beside Eren, holding his discarded shirt with a deadpan expression.

Connie threw an arm around her. “Mikasa, come on girl! Damn, live a little.”

“I am. I’m here. That’s enough.” She rolled her eyes but didn't push Connie off.

Armin stood awkwardly by the door, trying to get away without anyone noticing but Sasha spotted him, grabbing his wrist like he was the final Jenga block. “Perfect. Now it’s a real party.”

“I— I was just—” he shook his head, but it was too late.

The circle formed quickly. Everyone piled into the living room— cross-legged on the carpet, perched on the arm of the couch, tipsy and flushed with alcohol and heat. You got pulled into the circle by Jean, who offered a lopsided smile and whispered, “You’re the only one here with standards. And morals. And dignity. Lowkey wanna see you do something reckless. This’ll be fun.”

You sat between Sasha and Armin. He flinched slightly when you brushed his knee, glancing at you shyly.

Sasha gestured playfully, reaching her arm out to poke his cheek. “Y/N, meet Armin. He’s allergic to eye contact and social interaction.”

Armin turned bright red. “I’m not allergic—”

He was cut off by Connie who stood in the middle and snatched the bottle from Sasha like a sacred relic. "Spin the fuckin' bottle, babyyy."

Jean groaned. “Why are we in college playing this middle school game?”

“You just mad no one’s ever spun you on purpose,” Connie shot back.

Jean flipped him off. Connie licked the bottle. For dominance.

"Hi," You offered a polite smile, holding your hand out for a handshake. And he actually did. He gave you a handshake. No dap ups or high-fives. His palm was sweaty though.

“Hi,” he murmured as he let go of your hand, pushing his glasses up. “You, uh- you look… fancy.”

You laughed heartily. “I'm realizing that.”

“It’s kind of awesome, though,” he said, voice almost drowned by the music. “You look like you wandered in from a better world.” You noticed the glint of silver when he nervously licked his lips. A tongue piercing?

Huh.

He didn't look like the type to have one.

As soon as everyone was seated, the game started. Connie spun first. It landed on Jean.

Everyone exploded into unhinged laughter. “Bro,” Jean started wih his hands up in surrender, backing away. “We’ve seen each other’s dicks. We’re past this.”

“Exactly bro,” Connie said, taking a step forward msicheviously. “Full tongue. Come on!”

They kissed. Loudly. Sasha screamed like she was watching a car crash in real-time.

Then Jean spun and the bottle pointed to a freshman who looked ready to pass out. Jean's face lost all color. “Oh hell nawwww. I ain't catching a charge tonight. Re-spin.”

The dares started somewhere around Spin #6.

Ymir dared Connie to shotgun a beer while twerking. He did it. Badly. The carpet was soaked.

Mikasa spun. It landed on Sasha. She rolled her eyes, leaned over, and kissed her. The brunette giggled as she pulled away.

“That’s not fair,” Jean complained, arms across his chest. “Do it again, but gay for me.”

“Shut up Jean.” Mikasa deadpanned, taking her seat next to Eren.

It was your turn to spin, and it landed on the brunette beside you. You dared Sasha to drink whatever was in the mystery thermos on the counter. She took a sip, paused, and said, “What the fuck? That’s straight Everclear and nail polish remover. I’m seeing sounds.”

Ymir spun the bottle precisely and it landed on Historia, much to their advantage. She dragged the giggly blonde to the bathroom, locked the door, and never came back out.

Then it was Armin’s turn. He looked physically ill. “Guys, I really don’t think—”

“Spin it!” Connie chanted. Everyone joined in.

Armin sighed like he was being sentenced to death, and spun. The bottle twirled dramatically, like it knew the stakes.

It landed on… Jean. Everyone exploded. Jean stood, arms wide. “Bring it in, babe.”

Armin nearly fell backward. “ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

Someone yelled, "Who's this babe you're with, Yeager?" As an inside joke when Jean first met Armin through Eren and thought he was a girl.

You laughed into your cup, watching Jean grab the blonde boy's arm for a kiss, puckering up as Armin flailed around and screamed. Poor boy looked like he wanted to pass out.

But he kissed him. Fast. Lips only. Barely there. Eventually, the bottle made another round. And another.

People kissed. Someone tried to crawl away and were tackled back by Connie and Sasha. Mikasa threatened physically harm to anyone who tried to aim for her. (Anyone who wasn't Eren, ofcourse.)

You were wiping tears from your eyes when it was finally your turn. You spun. The room went still.

The bottle spun with purpose. And landed.

On Armin.

Everyone paused. Then— pandemonium.

Sasha leapt to her feet, making eye contact with Connie from across the circle. “IT’S TIME Y'ALL.”

Armin blinked rapidly, he gulped. “Time… for what?”

Connie banged loudly on the table like a drum. “SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVENNNN, BABYYY!”

Armin nearly died on the spot. “What?! Wait what does that entail, exactly—”

Jean snickered, wiggling his brows. “It entails you getting locked in a closet and possibly defiling each other.”

“Possibly?” Sasha barked, her hand already curled around his shirt by the nape. “I demand action.”

You glanced at Armin, all flushed and wide-eyed like a deer caught in headlights.

What could possibly go wrong anyway? We didn't have to do anything in the closet without them knowing. So you stood up with a small smile, and the circle erupted in cheers.

"Come on, man! See? She's down." Connie stood up and crouched in front of Armin. "Unless… y'wanna take y'er chances with Jean again?"

Armin practically scrambled to his feet. “Closet. Definitely the closet.”

Some guy yelled, “Use protection guys!”

Eren added, “Or don’t, live a little.”

The cheers grew louder over the music as he stood up with his face in his hands, hooting and wolf-whistling. Sasha and Connie ushered the both of you down the hallway, and they shoved the both of you inside the supply closet— barely big enough for two people to stand shoulder to shoulder.

The door closed behind you. Seven minutes.

Just you and Armin. And the red flush in his cheeks. And the glint of that tongue piercing as he licked his lips out of habit.

Let the heaven— and hell— begin.

♡ a/n: ts was sloppy as hell. but should i make smut? comment if i should :3

[axetivev]

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who would work in Arkham Asylum. Dealing with most of Batman's enemies and actually vibing with them and having a better relationship then Bruce to his enemies (and his husband isn't having it).

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who will have a session with Joker while Bats and Hood stared at the clown's very soul. Batman would be prepared if Jason had the feel to charge to Joker while Y/N tried to stay professional, but deep down, he just wanted to laugh his ass off.

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who would tag along with Ivy about plants. Which led to papa!reader asking to buy plants to Bruce (in a ridiculous amount). Which led to Bruce coming to Arkham to question her; What did you do to my husband?

(MPREG INCOME) Papa!Reader, a Psychological who was pregnant and the super-villains, oddly enough. Gentle with him, unlike their usual evil persona, and if there's anyone who dares to say something horrible to him, they'll get a beat down.

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who was pretty much close to Batman like metal and magnet, talked so lovingly if anyone wasn't around. And the possibilities of his super-villains knowing Papa!reader was his husband made Bruce—i mean Batman go wild.

"My love... I can't let my enemies know I'm a lovebird with their psychologist..." Batman spoke, his voice was deep but barely a whisper while trying to stay professional as Papa!reader continues to shower his rough cheek with kisses.

"Mhm, deal with it, Bats. ♡"

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who would often bring snacks to his patients, declining wasn't an option. And it would never be.

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who got books from Harley Quinn about psychology. And would come home with 2-4 huge books about it.

Alfred : If I may ask, where do you get them. Master Y/N?

Papa!reader : Harley Quinn.

Alfred : Ah... Miss Quinn.

Bruce spits his coffee : Quinn???

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who would go on sessions with Damian (as Robin), clinging to him or when he sat down, Robin would rest his head in his lap, while reading a book or sleeping. And his patients would question Papa!reader

Patient : Why is the Boy Wonder sleeping on you?

Papa!reader who was writing while patting Robin's head : He's my son.

Patient who didn't hear it clearly : Your who...?

Papa!reader visibly sweating : Ah... j–just let him sleep! Let just continue—

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who would always bring a pepper spray. Well, Bruce was the one who told him he should bring one...

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who is absolute besties with Harley, Batman would grumble about the fact she "took" his husband away from his grasp.

NSFW!!

Papa!Reader, a Psychological who would get pinned against his office desk. Stomach facing the wooden table as Batman pound his hole without mercy if jealousy rose or just needed a quickie.

Batman came to Papa!reader's office. As the male was on his desk, busy with some documents, the Dark Knight grabbed Papa!reader's waist, kicking his chair, Batman immediately pulled down Papa!reader's pants as his hole was in sight, he wasted no time. Immediately pulling his own pants, before inserting his length. Pounding his husband's hole without mercy.

"Mmh... B–bats... s–slow down...mm..ngh!" Papa!Reader moaned, as Batman inserted his index and middle finger to his husband's mouth.

"Keep your voice down. You're a good boy, I know you are." Batman smirked against his cheek, before planting kisses on Papa!reader's soft cheek.

[keanusbabydoll]

If you're taking requests, how about a daryl x reader with him hunting you through the woods. Y'know, the classic predator/prey thing. Maybe when he catches you, he uses his knife on you. Not to like seriously hurt the reader, but he knows she thinks he looks hot using a knife. Feel free to not write this if It makes you uncomfortable, though.

HIS PREY

a/n: anything for you guys!! i looove this one.<3

paring: daryl dixon x fem! reader

warnings: 18+ content, p in v, unprotected p in v, rough sex, dom!daryl, slight knife play, knife kink, daddy kink, age gap, fingering, slight edging, slight spanking, degrading, praising

wordcount: 2.2k

masterlist

MDNI

⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡ ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡ ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡ ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡ ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

it was a crisp morning when rick approached you and daryl, suggesting the two of you head out to scout for food. the group needed supplies, and he knew that daryl was the best hunter in the group—and that you, after months of being together, had become a skilled tracker in your own right.

it wasn’t the first time you were out alone and let’s say you were more than just excited.

being alone on a scavenger hunt with daryl always ended up with you getting your brains fucked out against a tree. and you couldn’t get enough of it. there would be no annoying rick or michonne who constantly interrupt you or ask daryl to guard at the gates. there, it was just the two of you.

as soon as you stepped into the woods the calming scent of damp earth and pine needles filled your nose. you looked to your right and found daryl adjusting his crossbow, his sharp blue eyes scanning the area for any walkers. hell, only the sight of him made you drool and hold yourself back to not jump on him. the way his muscles flexed and his shirt hugged his trained form so perfectly.

you needed him dearly, the forming wet spot in your panties only prove of it. and you definitely knew how to get what you want.

just as daryl seemed to have prepared everything you glanced over your shoulder with a smirk, arms folded over your chest. “you know daryl,” you teased, “if i wanted to hide out here, you’d never find me.”

he snorted softly, not looking at you. “that so?” you took a step closer, leaning into his space. “you’re good, dixon. but not that good. you’d be wandering around these woods all night.”

now you got his attention.

daryl’s lips twitched into a faint smirk as he finally turned to look at you, his eyes narrowing like he was already sizing you up.

underestimating daryl’s abilities? bad idea.

“you’re talkin’ a lotta shit for someone i could catch in under five minutes.” he stated, your words definitely affecting him. “prove it.” you challenged, your voice low and teasing. you could already feel your heart racing at what would happen next.

for a moment, he just stared at you, the weight of his predatory gaze making your breath hitch. then, without a word, he reached out and gripped your upper arm firmly, his expression shifting into something darker. “you better run, girl. clock’s tickin’.” your heart skipped a beat as soon as the words left his mouth and for a second, you hesitated, but the glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t kidding.

and you were fucking in for it.

you turned on your heels and bolted into the woods, the adrenaline kicking in almost instantly. the forest felt alive as you weaved through the trees and your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of excitement and something far more primal.

you eventually found a spot—a large tree covered in ivy. its wide trunk provided the perfect hiding place. carefully, to not make any sound, you knelt down and pressed your back against it, trying to catch your breath. you knew daryl well enough to know that he’d take his time, moving silently, stalking you like his prey. the thought of it sent shivers down your spine.

but honestly, you would’ve loved to hide somewhere really obvious only for him to find you after a minute. that’s how much you fucking craved this man. but then again, you knew that he would remind you forever that you were hiding this poorly. and the thrill of not knowing when he’d find you, got you even more excited.

the forest was eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. but then, you heard it—a soft, deliberate footstep. your breath caught in your throat. he was close.

you leaned ever so slightly to peek around the tree, scanning the woods for any sign of him. nothing.

you let out a quiet sigh of relief, relaxing back against the tree.

big mistake.

in a flash, a strong hand gripped your arm, yanking you to your feet. you barely had time to yelp before your back was slammed against the rough bark of the tree harshly. daryl loomed over you, his chest heaving from the exertion of the chase, his piercing eyes locking into yours. without you even fully realizing it, he held his sharp knife against your throat— not enough to hurt you but still to show you who’s in charge.

“thought ya could hide from me, huh?” his voice was low and gravelly, dripping with dominance. your eyes drifted down to the blade against your throat, your heartbeat quickening. “guess i was wrong.” you whispered, finding his gaze again.

“stupid lil’ thing.” he murmured as he began to trace the tip of the blade along your jawline, down your throat and to your exposed collarbone— leaving soft white lines. you tried to stifle a moan but the undeniable tension and daryl’s dominance made this impossible.

and he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

given the fact how pathetically you were rubbing your thighs together to gain just a tiny bit of friction. “you’re such a lil’ slut, doll.” he growled as he let the knife wander down to your tits, his eyes following it closely. “only for you, daddy.” you quietly whimpered, batting your eyelashes at him.

“yeah?” he amusingly huffed out before he captured your lips in a heated kiss— rough and demanding. his free hand gripped your waist to pull you closer as you moaned into the kiss as you felt his hard cock pressing against your lower belly.

he ached for you just as much as you ached for him.

his blade once again nestled on your throat, this time pressing a little harder, knowing it would rile you up even more.

he pushed his tongue past your lips, claiming you as his as he devoured your sweet taste. your tongues fought for dominance but daryl obviously took the lead, not letting you win this battle. the hand that lingered on your waist now grabbed one of your tits, squeezing it harshly. in reply you just pressed yourself harder against him, wordlessly signing him that you longed for more.

you felt him smirk into your kiss and he slowly let his hand glide down your body, stopping at the edge of your jeans. “please, daddy.” you whimpered softly against his lips, staring up at him with the prettiest doe eyes you got.

“what d’ya want?” he teasingly asked, his fingers inching very slowly down your pants. “you, daddy! touch me please.” your plea made his dick twitch in anticipation, he always thought you were so hot when you begged. you impatiently pushed your hips toward his fingers- your cunt was burning for his touch.

“can’t say no now, can i?” he sarcastically retorted as he finally dipped his digits inside your panties. immediately, he began to rub your clit in slow, circular motions, eliciting a relieved sigh from you. again, he trailed his knife down your body before he put it back into its sheath. he expertly opened your jeans one-handed and pushed it with your panties below your ass, giving him more access. daryl almost lost it when he saw your glistening cunt on display.

“you’re fuckin’ drippin’.” he lowly rasped, sliding a finger down to your soaked entrance, wetting the tip of it. “just for you.” you mumbled, tangling your fingers in his hair. “good fuckin’ girl.”

in the blink of an eye he had two of his digits knuckle deep in your pussy, your wetness allowed him to slide in with ease. “ah- fuck!” you mewled, gripping his hair tighter. daryl pressed his lips to yours again as he began to pump his fingers in and out of your cunt in a steady pace, his other hand was back at your tit, groping it feverishly. jolts of pure pleasure crashed through your body as he suddenly curled his fingers and stimulated your sweet spot. “right there.” you squeaked, leaning your head back against the tree.

daryl only took this as a sign and thrusted his fingers faster and rougher inside of you, your walls instantly clamping down on him. he began to lick and suck on your neck, occasionally biting down on your hot flesh. the squelching sounds your pussy made got his dick even harder, needing to be inside of you.

you were a moaning mess, his fingers bringing you closer and closer to your high but then he suddenly pulled them out of you. “wha-“ you began but daryl interrupted you mid-sentence by gripping your waist and turning you around.

“can’t wait any longer.” he mumbled sharply as you heard him fiddling with his belt. with heavy breaths you stared over your shoulder and caught him unzipping his pants. hastily, he pulled down his boxers, making his fully erect cock spring free.

he pumped himself a few times, precum already dripping from the tip, before he stepped closer toward you.

daryl quickly guided his redend tip to your slick entrance, rubbing it up and down teasingly. “ready?” he whispered in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. you frantically nodded your head and when you finally felt him push into you, your world turned upside down.

there was no other feeling, than his cock stretching you painfully open, that could make you feel this euphoric.

with a rough thrust of his hips he bottomed out, his hips flush against your ass. a loud whimper escaped your throat, followed by strings of sinful moans. daryl’s head arched back at your tight walls wrapping around him so deliciously. “never gonna get tired of your tight lil’ pussy.” he growled, immediately starting off with a fast pace, not giving you any chance to get used to his size.

his hands gripped your hips tightly and he just increased his speed, making sure you could feel every inch of him. you yearned it, desperately trying to meet each thrust. “you’re so big, daddy.” you yelped, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at his bruising thrusts. “ya can take it.” he growled in reply.

the sound of your skin clapping together lingered in the air, only mushing your brains up. daryl pushed your legs apart and made you arch your back painfully, allowing the tip of his cock to brush exactly against that one spot, nestled deep inside of you, that made you go feral. your nails scraped harshly against the tree bark, eyes tightly closed. “you like that, huh?” he asked you breathlessly, “you like my cock stretching you open?” he pistoned into you like a man on a mission.

“yes! i love it!” you purred as he continued to fuck you straight into oblivion. “dirty whore.” daryl growled as he sent a harsh slap to your ass, receiving a high pitched moan from you. to add fuel to your pleasure, he reached around your middle and let his middle finger draw messy circles on your puffy clit. “god, daryl! don’t stop!” you cried out, feeling your orgasm slowly build up.

daryl himself was close to his high, hammering into your tight hole in an animalistic way. your knees began to buckle as he flicked his finger faster- determined to coax an orgasm out of you.

he knew exactly what you liked and how you liked it to get you to your release in an instant.

“gonna cum?” daryl whispered in your ear, kissing the spot just beneath it. “mhm, close.” you managed to let out—his dick was the only thing in you could really think of.

daryl rolled his hips even rougher and quicker than you thought was possible, his cock twitching uncontrollably- always a sign that he was on the verge of cumming. “‘m gonna cum.” he utterly growled through gritted teeth. the only thing that daryl wanted more than anything was to feel you gush all over his cock. “me too!” you whimpered pathetically, knowing that you will cum any second.

“now.” daryl commanded, using a second finger on your clit. “oh my fucking—” a scream tore from your throat, interrupting yourself with another yelp. you were sent straight to heaven as a powerful orgasm took over your whole body.

quick gasps left your mouth as you clutched on the tree in any way you could.

feeling you cum around him and your pussy clamping down on his shaft, daryl’s hips began to stutter as the contraction sent him over the edge with you.

he kept rubbing your now sensitive nub and slammed his hips a few more times against your ass before they sputtered to a stop. reluctantly, he pulled out of your pussy, a sharp hiss falling from your lips.

“was that enough prove?” he mocked you while smacking your ass.

“maybe.” you replied defiantly and pulled your jeans and panties up, still trying to catch your breath.

“you’ll never learn to shut that cheeky mouth of yours.” he stated irritatingly, adjusting his pants as well.

“nope.”

REQUESTS ARE OPENED <3

[theyluvlyss]

𝐦���� 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 !

and it's me getting to write henry being a simp🥴🥰. thank you for requesting, I honestly didn't think I'd get any for henry danger, so just this one has me allll /ᐠo⩊oマ !!! So ya, enjoy :).

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

《 ♡ 》 oneshot

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

being the girlfriend of swellview's resident sidekick could be tough sometimes. always covering for him, constantly worrying about his safety, forever missing him...

but, regardless, he always made sure to remind you that you are the most important thing in his life. even if he has to wake you out of a dead sleep to do it...

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!girlfriend!reader x henry hart - she/her/hers pronouns! - knows henry's super-identity/works with captain man!

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

during season four (and up) (vaguely) - it's mildly implied to be winter

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

cursing (I think? I don't remember, but just in case lol) - yelling (in a jokey/lighthearted way tho) - henry being so boyfriend - a poison ivy knock-off gets featured in here cuz I thought it would be funny lmao - lmk if I missed anything /ᐠ~˕~マ.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

As you stocked shelves and marked down certain pricey items for the holiday's swift approach, you couldn't help but huff. Couldn't help but wonder why it was you had agreed to such a position. Hardly anyone even comes into Junk n' Stuff! Why did you have to play pretend employee for a vacant audience when you could be down in the Mancave with Charlotte and Schwoz, observing and maybe even solving crime and mysteries?

At this point, you might as well have taken real a job at a real shop or store.

But, then again... you were getting the bonus perks of higher pay, given as your boss was a literal superhero. And, because of the fact that the whole of Junk n' Stuff was a front, customers were rare. It was like being on break from three to ten, only ever selling to the occasional old person looking for a rare trinket, or a curious kid looking to resell something "vintage." Whatever the case, you were on your phone for most of the time, and were always happy to work alongside your best friend and your superhero boyfriend.

The third perk, you realized, even if you weren't exactly on the field beside him. You supposed it wasn't all bad. It's not like a lot of other girls had the guilty pleasure of saying the same.

"I work at a fake mom and pop shop that barely gets any customers, but it's okay because it's just a cover up for my boss who's actually Captain Man, and his sidekick, Kid Danger, is actually my boyfriend. My best friend Charlotte and I work to keep him safe every other day, and to top it all off, I get paid more than what my parents make in a week."

You shook your head, huffing to yourself in amusement. Not only was it a mouthful to say, but it sounded insane. Not that you'd ever actually say it to anyone but yourself in your head. But, speaking- er, thinking of...

You pulled your phone from your back pocket, taking your focus off of the box of probably stale snacks you were stacking near the front desk and onto Henry's already open contact. You scanned over your thread of texts between each other, your last message from earlier in the day still left on delivered. You didn't take this to heart, already aware of how busy his missions tended to get. And dangerous, too, hence why you had initially sent...

─────────────────────

my man😙❤️

───────────

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

Delivered

─────────────────────

And sure, after checking now, seeing you'd been left on delivered the whole time mildly stung. But you understood and didn't allow that to be the thing that slightly dampened your mood. Instead, you remained worried for your boyfriend, contemplating if you should send another text his way. Or maybe even call him. Just to see...

You fanned the idea away, setting your phone face down on the floor and continuing to do your "job." Anything to take your mind off of the peril Henry could be facing right now, and the last thing he needed was you distracting him. You wouldn't be needy. At least, not right now. But you'd continue to wonder what was happening, where he was, what dangers he was facing...

"Oh...! (Y/N)."

You turned at the sound of your name, smiling as Charlotte stepped out of the elevator.

"It's past ten, I thought you'd be home by now."

"Me too...!" You sighed, a dry chuckle leaving along with. "I guess I was just subconsciously hoping Ray and Henry would be back by now."

Charlotte gave her own chuckle and an understanding nod at your half-joking confession, moving closer until she was squatted beside and assisting you with the rest of your stocking.

"I wouldn't worry too much. They got this. They always do."

"I know, it's just-"

"-Besides, it's only Greenleaf. And you already know..."

You two shot each other a knowing glance, finishing her sentence at the same time together before laughing.

"...She always folds for Ray."

As you set up the last of the snacks, the two of you stood, cardboard box on your hip while Charlotte had scooped up your phone and handed it back to you.

"You're right, you're right." You admitted, tossing your head from side to side with a shrug. "Plus, I'm pretty sure her goals are relatively Mother Nature related. Can't say I blame her."

"Excatly." Charlotte agreed. "She rarely ever does any real harm, so trust me, Henry will text you back before you know it."

And with that, you two shared your final goodbyes for the evening, and your fret had subsided. Like you said, she was right, Greenleaf more of a particular "low level" classified supervillain, which meant an easy battle. If you'd even call it that. You predicted that right about now, Ray was doing his best to appeal to her charm and romance to subdue her, and though gross... it always seemed to work, so you didn't question it.

With that in mind, you finally decided to call in, clocking out for the evening and daydreaming on the walk home of a hearty dinner, a hot shower, and the warmth and cozy of your bed.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

In the comfort of your room with your nighttime routine accomplished, you remained settled in bed with your eyes glued to your phone. Maybe not the healthiest option, but TikTok was very compelling in the late evenings. Especially when you needed a good laugh or a new song/audio to discover and add to your playlist. You scrolled endlessly, allowing the time to tick by without worry or care because tomorrow (in an hour or two) would be a stress free Saturday.

The millionth swipe upwards of your thumb brought you to your next video, a boy and a girl close in age to yourself participating in a trend that had been circling around for a little bit. It was cute, the way they both adorned wide, cheesy smiles, and their pajamas matched with each other. Even while they performed a popular dance, sticking to routine, you could sense the chemistry they had with one another through the screen. All of it ending with the boy scooping her into his arms, littering kisses across her face that she giggled at over the music.

If anyone asked, you'd be a little embarrassed to admit that you had let the video replay several times before giving it a like and then scrolling away. But, you couldn't - no - wouldn't deny the achy feeling it left you with.

Suddenly, you were no longer laughing at everything you saw and/or heard. No longer wishing to be on the app itself any longer because the ache in your chest was growing too much to bear. Too much for you to ignore, thinking about that random couple and their adorable antics.

How much it reminded you of your own boyfriend; how much you really did miss Henry. It wasn't like you didn't see each other often, practically every day. But it didn't stop you from always wishing to be near him, that he was with you. Family, school, and being a superhero did take up quite a bit of his attention, not that you doubted you were the fourth thing on his list. Selfishly, you assumed the second, at least...

But anyhow, in an attempt to rid yourself of the ache and to refrain from pestering him, you migrated from TikTok to your gallery, scrolling around until you reached a large cluster of pictures and videos from days past.

First thing, you were met with a short thread of silly pictures, Henry striking poses and making faces he'd forbid from showing to anyone, and you immediately sent them to Charlotte and Jasper agreed, for the sake of his dignity. Or just some random action shots, the complete blur of his figure due to moving too fast, which you would keep because they were still funny, after all.

But eventually, you came across a video, it automatically playing as you watched in reminiscence of your time at the mall together. You were both fresh from a Bath & Body Works, your phone's point of view shaking and aimed as though it were snooping around in your bag before pulling away and revealing your hand being held by none other than Henry himself.

"What'd ya' get me?" You chirped as though you hadn't just shown the audience already. But, it was clear you wanted to hear it from him at the time, both past/video and present you giggling at the way Henry shot a smirk your way with eyes that read, "Really?"

"What I always get you." He answered simply, looking ahead as you two walked. "The world."

"Harhar." You could be heard giving an equally sarcastic laugh before adding, "Yes, but specifically this time."

"Boba and (signature/scent)."

Again, both past/video and present you shared another laugh, and you were sure of the fact that you were admiring him shamelessly with your eyes full of love at that moment, just as you were now as the video went on.

"How come?" You pressed with glee, Henry's head shifting back towards you as he spoke.

"'Cause I love you. 'Cause you deserve it. 'Cause it feels gooood."

He laughed along with you at the way he elongated his words at the end of his sentence, a quirk he picked up from who-knows-where that always had you playfully rolling your eyes. In real time, though, the video had ended there, and you were swift to find another one, craving more of that feeling... that mock-comfort of Henry being with you when he actually wasn't.

It was the best you could do, for now, so you'd continue, snuggling deeper into your blankets and pillows while his voice kept ringing out from your phone.

"You smell really good." Was his first comment, ironically per the last video, stated while you admired yourself in selfie mode before switching to the back camera.

He was already stalking closer towards your position on his bed, in his room, before flopping down right into your lap and looking up at you like a puppy.

"And I love your eyes."

"My eyes?" You questioned, as though you were surprised, or as if he should be talking about someone else's.

"Mhm." He nodded slowly. "Your beautiful eyes and those lips of yours. You're too perfect, y'might have to get that checked out or something."

Your laugh at his joking statement caused the camera to shake, and it made you realize that in the moment, you had missed the way he continued to behold you. To cherish the rest of your features and run his hand against your lower stomach as his face flushed with red at the sound of your giggles. Laughter he caused, which made him happy, you assumed, given the way he couldn't even fight his own smile.

You wished you hadn't missed it all at the time, but were glad you were seeing it now; all of his love that then went poured into one gesture before the video ended.

He brought your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles with a gentleness you were still currently missing, the video ending, and the silence of your room setting in.

It didn't help the ache like you thought it would, possibly even making it worse. And because of that, you thought it wise to call it a night, giving your messages one more check before making the last minute choice to send another. A final one for the evening, because at least that would bring you peace of mind.

─────────────────────

my man😙❤️

───────────

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

Delivered

Goodnight

I love you sm<3

❤️✨️

Delivered

─────────────────────

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

"So, uhh... you ever try Olive Garden?"

The woman, hair fiery red and a fitted suit made from the vines and plants she created (which were now being chopped away at by police in light of her villainous attempts), shot the man, Captain Man, a look of confusion and disgust. If her wrists hadn't been bound by handcuffs, she'd send another vine after him just for his obliviousness.

"No. I would never in my life..."

She didn't even have to finish her sentence, the tone implying that she wouldn't be caught dead eating from a place that required slaughtering animals and ripping plants from the ground just to serve "fine" cuisine.

"Is Olive Garden not vegan?"

Greenleaf couldn't even fathom a rebuttal to such stupidity, that fact clearly written all over her face as she was hauled away by more policemen. Ray, of course, didn't exactly catch on but jumped at Henry's shout from behind.

"Dude...!" A pause, striking out a hand to further enforce his demand. "Stop flirting with the supervillain...!"

"I'm-! . . ." Ray couldn't even deny that he was doing such a thing (granted, Greenleaf is an attractive woman), but would take advantage of his older age anyhow, pointing an index finger towards his younger partner sternly.

"Mind your business! Unlike you, Kid Danger, I have had the pleasure of time, which has allotted me the grace of perfecting my wit, savvy, and charm, I'll have you know. So-"

He was interrupted by Henry's gloved palm resting against his face, serving as a method to stop him from strolling any closer while Henry casually scrolled through his phone, his tone all the same.

"Hang on, my girlfriend just texted me."

Ray scoffed, seconds away from letting Henry know that he shouldn't be distracted on the job. That is, until he continued to go on with a flat tone, underlying bits of hilarity under it in attempts to get under Ray's skin.

"Y'know, the thing you don't have? The girl I used my natural born wit, savvy, and charm on to win over?"

"I get it!!"

Henry looked up with a smile at Ray's exclamation, innocently nodding with a swift, "Yeah." before putting his attention back to his screen.

─────────────────────

my wife❤️

Be careful out there today, k?

Ily💞✨️

9:23p.m.

Goodnight

I love you sm<3

❤️✨️

11:37p.m.

─────────────────────

What had been giddiness at first morphed into a feeling of guilt, thoughts of your saddened face sinking deep into his brain the moment he realized he had missed your texts. That you had apparently even gone to bed without hearing so much as a word from him all evening.

And sure, he knew you'd probably excuse it the next day, simply telling him that it "was fine" and that you "understood." And while that might be the case, he couldn't help but give in to the thought that you'd much rather have gotten to hear from him tonight. At the very least.

Besides, it's not like he didn't miss you, too. He missed you a lot, actually. You constantly on the brain every single time he fought and/or solved any crime, because if there was one person he'd guarantee the safety of while being in Swellview, it was you. But, along with your safety, he also wanted to make things up to you. He wanted your happiness. And he knew he was one of the sole people who could provide that, therefore...

"Alright, I gotta' get outta' here."

"What?" Captain Man blinked rapidly, unexpecting of Henry's sudden announcement of departure. "No-! No, we have to clean up this mess. Look at all of these vines!"

"Yep, it's...quite the jungle." Henry admitted lacklusterly, nodding to himself before throwing a thumb over his shoulder and slowly backing away. "But, uh, it's Friday, and..."

"Exactly! Friday night, no school, which leaves you plenty of time to help me out. You're on clean-up duty tonight, bud!"

Henry, again, nodded along with Ray's words. He continued to take his giant steps away from the scene, talking fast and only thinking about you in the process, hence why his logic came out a little more than flawed...

"Right, except no, because last I checked, the saying goes, "Blow bubbles fight crime, feels good." Not, "Blow bubbles, fight crime, clean up a mess that's not mine." And, I gotta be honest, that would not feel very good. It would actually feel baaaad, which is exactly how you-know-who is probably feeling right about now..."

"Don't even say her name, kid."

A pause lingered in the air before Henry disobeyed direct instruction.

"I gotta go see (Y/N)."

And he was gone before the conversation could continue, Ray left on his own to help the police with deforesting the city's town hall. And, as much as it behooved him to do so, he couldn't help but admit to himself that if he was still Henry's age with a girl like you, he'd probably do the same.

He huffed, giving his sidekick the benefit of the doubt for tonight.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

Tossing and turning slowly as you woke, you hadn't yet processed what it was that had actually brought you from your slumber until you were fully sitting up in bed, finally able to recognize the sound as a gentle knock.

This then alarmed you, your head whipping around your surroundings in a flurry in an attempt to pinpoint the sound that had spiked up your heart rate in the dead of night. But, once you had managed to place the noise coming from your window, your fear settled into more of a light curiosity and confusion. It brought you from your bed, your feet now met with the cold air around you as you crept forward towards your window.

Steadily pulling back your curtains, your caution slowly turned into joy and surprise, a smile spreading across your face that matched the one on your boyfriend's own face behind the glass.

"Henry...!" You whisper-shouted, his name muffled as he watched you move to unlock your window. He was grateful that you were quick with this action, no longer having to mildly shiver outside while you pulled him through and onto your bedroom floor, admiring his figure in the dimness of your room.

"It's so late, what're you doing here?"

Your question escaped in the midst of a yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes while his own darted back to where the clock sat on your nightstand.

12:54a.m.

"I know, I'm sorry, (N/N). I didn't mean to wake you." He apologized, using a nickname that brought another smile to your face once the yawn had passed.

"I just...didn't want you to think I was ignoring you, y'know? I would've answered your texts sooner, I was just-"

"-I know." You cut in with a nod. "I understand, it's okay."

He laughed quietly to himself, all too correct about your compassion when it came to him that he sometimes felt he didn't fully deserve. Like now, keeping his hands hidden behind his back with something that'd hopefully make up for it all.

"It's not, though. I wanna be fair to you with my time. Want you to know that I care about you and that I'll be there for you, whether I'm Kid Danger or just Henry Hart."

"Woah, hey, you're not... just Henry Hart." You corrected, coming closer and placing a tired hand on his shoulder. It was only here that you realized he wore nothing but a white t-shirt, the rest of his super-apparel tied around his waist, red cargo pants and combat boots still intact. Pretty on point symbolism for the moment, if anyone asked you...

"You... are Henry Hart. You're my boyfriend with a lot on your plate, and I know that it's just not fair of me to expect all of your time, which is why I don't. But no matter what, I do love you for giving me whatever you can, so it's very much okay."

You didn't have to be able to see his face clearly to know he was probably just as red as he was in your videos from earlier, his bashful smile going hidden when he let his head drop for just a moment.

"I love you, too." A pause before he quickly debunked your reassurance with some of his own. "And it's not okay, which is why I got you these..."

And suddenly, you realized why he had kept his hands hidden behind him like some wise old man, revealing to you a bouquet of flowers of all kinds. An almost randomized assortment that'd be pretty hard to find in any flower shop. At any shop at all, given...

"Oh my gosh, they're so pretty! It's like, midnight, though, where did you get these?" You squealed quietly, doing your best not to wake up any family in the house while you took the flowers into your hands and admired them the best you could under the moon's light.

"Uhh..."

Henry really didn't know how to answer that, scratching the back of his neck in remembrance of his horrid sneak attempt through his neighbor's backyard.

"I stole 'em." Was what came out way too nonchalantly, leaving you to choke on air while your eyes widened.

"What...?! Henry-!"

"I'm kidding, I didn't steal-... Well... I mean, technically, yes, but not in the way that you're thinking."

"I don't know what I'm thinking...!" You burst through confused laughter. "My boyfriend just told me he stole flowers for me. From where?!"

His eyes shifted from you, to the side, and then back again, folding at the sight of your expecting face looking back up at him.

"My neighbor..." His voice strained quietly, and you could all but sigh and shake your head, letting your nose bury itself back into the makeshift bouquet of freshly stolen flowers.

"That old lady is gonna strangle you with her bare, wrinkly hands."

Henry snorted, sparing you his impulsive thought of the fact she'd have to know it was and catch him first, and instead, fake pain at your light slaps to his chest.

"You're supposed to be a superhero, not a midnight theif...!"

"Hey, c'mon..." He cooed, tugging you closer and smiling when you did begrudgingly move forward towards him.

"...You know I'd go rogue for you any time."

"Y'know, I'm starting to miss Kid Danger." You quipped with a smirk. "At least he'd know better than to pluck flowers from someone's garden."

"Mmm. Fair." He nodded before obnoxiously pushing his forehead up against yours. "But does he kiss you the same way I do?"

"Mmm-"

And before you could pretend to debate the matter, he had done just that, forever gentle with you as he placed his lips on yours and stole any thoughts, stability in your legs, and air in your lungs you had left.

Well, maybe not steal. You'd let him have that any time, the same way he'd bring you flowers at midnight to make up for any of his absences.

Just the thought had you breaking the kiss with another giggle, your turn to grow shy at the attention before you were finally able to fully heal the last little remnants of that ache in your chest.

"You should stay."

You threw it out as a casual suggestion even though you were practically screaming inside for him to say yes. And of course, you got your wish, because what wouldn't he do for you?

"I will."

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭, 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨🤭...

but seriously, I really hope you enjoyed, this was super fun and cute for me to write. got me wishing he was under my tree for xmas😔✋🏽.

also, I apologize for this taking as long as it did, there's reasons I have that will be later explained in a separate post/announcement, so ya :'D.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :

@junknstufff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :

3,877

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

none :(

[iamgonnagetyouback]

IVY'S 1K CELEBRATION

oh my goodness, everyone. i’m honestly in shock—i just hit 1k followers today, and i feel so incredibly grateful for each and every one of you. i never could have imagined that my little corner here would turn into such a warm, welcoming space, filled with the most amazing people. thank you for being here, for your kindness, for sharing in my fics, my ramblings, and every small joy and moment in between. it’s a dream come true, and i feel so lucky to have all of you here with me.

to celebrate, i’ve decided we should do something special because this truly feels like such a big milestone. whether you’ve been here since the beginning or just joined, you’ve made this space a little brighter, and i’ll forever be grateful for that. thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for making this journey so memorable.

here’s to many more memories together. 🥂

SNOWMANCE

tell me a bit about yourself—your likes, dislikes, favourite movie/book, and ideal winter date—and I’ll match you with a character from my favourite fandoms

STORY IN A SHELL

tell me your favorite trope, character, and song, and i’ll write a short drabble based on it!

FROST BITE

choose a prompt from the list and a character, and i’ll write a little drabble for you based on it!

SURF BOARDS

think of a character and a situation, and i’ll create a moodboard to capture the vibe

TIDAL FAVES

pick a character and a trope, and i’ll suggest some fics for it—either my own or by some of my favourite writers

guidelines

⋆ everyone is welcome to join in, and i’m excited to see your requests!

⋆ please send different requests in separate messages to help me keep track.

⋆ taking a quick look at these will help things go smoothly for us both.

⋆ i see and appreciate each message—sending requests multiple times can slow things down.

⋆ i’ll be getting to everyone, but i also have responsibilities outside of tumblr. your patience means the world.

thank you all for being part of this! your support truly makes this celebration special.

©iamgonnagetyouback౨ৎ please refrain from copying, translating, or reposting any of my work

[urdreamydoodles]

Can you write bat villains x someone who use to be a psychologist? And gn please

Bat-Villains x Reader

You used to be a psychologist

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, Two-Face, The Riddler & The Penguin

I hope I did what you hoped. Love you guys, bye ♡

The Joker

- You’ve always known that your choice to leave psychology behind wasn’t entirely your own. It became evident the moment you met him, the infamous Joker, during your stint at Arkham. You were initially his psychologist, drawn into his world by the challenge of untangling his chaotic psyche. But instead of understanding him, you found yourself caught in his web. Your analytical mind fascinated him—your attempts to “fix” him became his favorite game, one that always ended with him flipping the script and dissecting you instead.

- Your former training as a psychologist now feels like a double-edged sword in your relationship. On one hand, it’s the reason he respects you. You’re the one person who can spar with him intellectually, who can try (and sometimes fail) to keep up with the labyrinthine way his mind works. On the other hand, he sees your past profession as an ongoing joke. He’ll mockingly call you “Doc” or ask if you’d like to analyze him, knowing full well that any attempt would end in him exposing your own vulnerabilities instead.

- The Joker revels in pushing your boundaries. He’ll leave Rorschach test cards lying around the hideout, asking for your “professional opinion” with a maniacal grin. He’ll turn every fight or disagreement into a warped therapy session, making you question your own motives and sanity. Yet, there’s a twisted tenderness in the way he values your insight. When he’s planning his next big scheme, he’ll ask for your input—not because he needs it, but because he enjoys the way your mind works.

- You often catch yourself analyzing him even now, despite knowing it’s a futile exercise. But every once in a while, you’ll hit a nerve. When you call out the cracks in his façade, when you pinpoint the rare moments where his chaos feels less calculated and more personal, he’ll grow uncharacteristically quiet. Those are the moments when you see the man beneath the madness, even if only for a fleeting second.

- He loves reminding you that you’ve crossed a line no ethical psychologist ever should. “Falling for your patient, Doc? That’s against the rules,” he’ll say with mock horror. But there’s a glimmer of pride in his eyes because you didn’t just fall for anyone—you fell for him, the one person no one else could ever hope to understand. And in his own twisted way, that makes you his perfect match.

Harleen Quinzel aka. Harley Quinn

- Meeting Harley was like meeting a mirror image of yourself—if the mirror had cracks and glitter smeared all over it. You’d both been psychologists, both lured into the world of Gotham’s rogues by the thrill of understanding the incomprehensible. She was fascinated by the fact that you shared her background, though she couldn’t resist teasing you about being the “goody-goody” version of her.

- Your shared history in psychology becomes a cornerstone of your relationship. You’ll spend hours debating therapeutic techniques, discussing old case studies, or laughing over the absurdity of Freudian theories. Harley loves hearing about your time as a psychologist, often joking that you’re her “normal” counterpart—but deep down, she’s proud that you chose her world over your old one.

- Despite her playful nature, Harley respects your insights in ways few others do. When her insecurities bubble to the surface—whether it’s about her past with the Joker or her struggle to define herself outside of it—she’ll come to you for advice. She values your ability to articulate what she’s feeling when she can’t find the words herself. And while she doesn’t always follow your advice, the fact that she listens at all is a testament to how much she trusts you.

- You sometimes find yourself slipping into “therapist mode” when Harley spirals, but she’s quick to call you out if she feels you’re treating her like a patient instead of a partner. “I’m not sittin’ on your couch, doc,” she’ll say with a pout, before pulling you into a playful wrestling match to lighten the mood. Still, she appreciates your ability to ground her when things get too overwhelming.

- Harley loves that you chose her, knowing full well the risks involved. “You coulda stayed all boring and normal, but you jumped into the deep end with me,” she’ll say with a proud grin. And while your past as a psychologist may have shaped you, she loves that you’ve embraced the chaos of her world without losing the core of who you are.

Pamela Isley aka. Poison Ivy

- Ivy found your past as a psychologist both intriguing and amusing. “A former mind doctor falling for a plant lady,” she’d tease with a sly smirk. “I suppose it’s only natural—plants are easier to understand than people.” But beneath her teasing lies a deep respect for your intelligence and your ability to see the world in ways others can’t.

- Your psychological background often comes into play in your relationship with Ivy. She values your insight when it comes to understanding human nature, a realm she’s often detached from. You help her navigate her complex feelings about humanity—her disdain for their destructive tendencies versus her occasional, begrudging hope that they might change.

- Ivy’s cool, analytical nature contrasts with your warmth, creating a balance that neither of you expected. She’ll often challenge you to apply your psychological theories to her world of plants and ecosystems, delighting in your attempts to bridge the gap between the two. You’ve become her sounding board for her plans, helping her refine her ideas and temper her more extreme impulses.

- There are moments when Ivy grows frustrated with your attempts to analyze her, particularly when you delve into her trauma or question her motives. “Not everything needs a diagnosis,” she’ll snap, her walls going up. But over time, she’s come to appreciate your perspective, even if she doesn’t always show it.

- Ivy loves that you see her as more than just a villain or a force of nature. You see the layers of Pamela Isley beneath Poison Ivy, and that makes her feel truly understood. Your shared bond is rooted in a mutual respect for each other’s intellect and a deep, unspoken trust that neither of you takes for granted.

Bane

- Your relationship with Bane began with mutual curiosity. He was fascinated by your background as a psychologist, viewing your profession as a form of intellectual strength. You, in turn, were drawn to his disciplined mind and the way he combined brute force with strategic brilliance. “You dissect minds; I conquer them,” he’d say with a rare, genuine smile.

- Bane respects your intellect in a way that few others do. He sees your psychological expertise as a weapon, one that complements his physical prowess. He’ll often ask for your insights when planning his strategies, valuing your ability to predict human behavior and anticipate his enemies’ moves.

- Your past as a psychologist also gives you a unique perspective on Bane’s struggles. You understand the toll his dependency on Venom takes on him, both physically and mentally. While he rarely lets his vulnerabilities show, he appreciates your ability to see past his armor and offer support without judgment.

- Bane occasionally challenges you to analyze him, though it’s always on his terms. “Tell me, doctor,” he’ll say with a smirk, “what drives a man to seek strength at all costs?” These moments often turn into deep, philosophical discussions that leave you both with a greater understanding of each other—and yourselves.

- Your relationship with Bane is built on mutual respect and an unshakable trust. He admires your strength, not just as a psychologist but as a person who chose to stand by his side despite the risks. And while he may be the one known for breaking Batman, you’re the one who’s managed to break through his emotional walls, earning a place in his heart that no one else ever could.

Jonathan Crane aka. Scarecrow

- Jonathan Crane was both intrigued and suspicious when he learned of your past as a psychologist. “Another mind eager to probe into fear,” he’d remark, his tone dripping with both mockery and fascination. You, however, weren’t interested in analyzing him, at least not in the traditional sense. Instead, you saw through his bravado to the wounded man behind the Scarecrow.

- Your shared background creates a dynamic of intellectual sparring. Jonathan delights in challenging your understanding of fear, throwing hypothetical scenarios at you to see if you can unravel them. He respects your insights, though he’s quick to remind you that fear, in his eyes, is an art—something that transcends mere psychology.

- Despite his attempts to maintain dominance in your relationship, there are times when Jonathan allows himself to be vulnerable. You’re the only one he trusts to see the cracks in his armor, to hear the stories of his childhood torment without judgment. Your empathetic yet clinical approach soothes him, though he’d never admit it aloud.

- Jonathan often tests your limits, pushing you into scenarios meant to evoke fear. At first, it frustrated you, but over time you came to understand it as his way of sharing his world with you. When you show resilience or even appreciation for his experiments, he’s secretly proud, though his compliments are always wrapped in veiled insults like, “I suppose you’re not as naive as I thought.”

- Your past as a psychologist doesn’t just make you his partner—it makes you his equal. Jonathan loves that you don’t cower before his intellect or his fascination with fear. Instead, you challenge him, forcing him to confront his own insecurities and vulnerabilities, something no one else has dared to do. And though he thrives on fear, you’ve become the one person who doesn’t fear him at all.

Harvey Dent aka. Two-Face

- Harvey Dent was initially wary of your background as a psychologist, fearing you’d see him as just another case study. But your approach was different—you didn’t try to fix him or push him toward integration. Instead, you accepted both sides of him, recognizing the war within and respecting it as part of who he was.

- Your ability to navigate Harvey’s duality sets you apart. You’ve learned to address both Harvey and Two-Face as separate entities, treating them with equal respect. This earns you a rare level of trust from both sides of his fractured psyche. Harvey appreciates your kindness and understanding, while Two-Face values your refusal to dismiss him as the “bad” half.

- Your past profession comes in handy during Harvey’s darker moments. When he spirals, you use your skills to help him regain balance, though it’s always a delicate dance. You never push too hard, knowing that forcing him to confront his trauma could drive him further into chaos. Instead, you offer guidance when he’s ready to hear it, a patience he’s deeply grateful for.

- Two-Face often tests your loyalty, flipping his coin to decide whether you’ve earned his trust. At first, it unnerved you, but over time you came to see it as his way of coping with uncertainty. You’ve even convinced him to let you flip the coin once or twice, a rare display of vulnerability that leaves Harvey quietly amazed.

- Harvey loves that you don’t pity him or try to change him. You see the man he was, the villain he’s become, and everything in between, and you accept it all. Your background as a psychologist gives you the tools to navigate his complexities, but it’s your unwavering loyalty that makes you indispensable to him.

Edward Nygma aka. The Riddler

- Edward Nygma couldn’t resist testing you when he learned of your background as a psychologist. “A mind-reader, are we?” he’d sneer, throwing riddles your way to see if you were as clever as he hoped. When you solved his puzzles with ease, his skepticism turned to fascination. You were a challenge, and he loved every second of it.

- Your relationship with Edward revolves around intellect. He thrives on your ability to keep up with him, often dragging you into his elaborate schemes just to see how you’ll react. Your psychological training gives you a unique edge in solving his riddles, something he alternately admires and resents.

- Edward often uses your past profession as fodder for his own ego. He’ll mockingly ask if you’re trying to analyze him, only to turn the tables and psychoanalyze you instead. Yet, there are moments when he lets his guard down, asking for your insight on his compulsions and insecurities. He values your honesty, even if it stings.

- Your shared love of puzzles and problem-solving creates a bond unlike any other. Edward delights in creating challenges specifically for you, riddles designed to test your wit and emotional intelligence. When you solve them, he’s genuinely impressed, though he’ll grumble about needing to “up his game.”

- Edward loves that you don’t see him as just a criminal or a narcissist. Your past as a psychologist allows you to see the layers beneath his arrogance—the insecurities, the need for validation, the brilliance he feels the world constantly underestimates. And in return, he gives you his loyalty, a rare gift from a man who trusts so few.

Oswald Cobblepot aka. The Penguin

- Oswald Cobblepot was immediately intrigued by your background as a psychologist. To him, it was a sign of power—not physical strength, but the ability to control and manipulate others with your mind. He saw your potential as an asset, but what he didn’t expect was how deeply he’d come to care for you.

- Your relationship with Oswald is built on mutual respect. He admires your intellect and your ability to read people, often seeking your advice on how to handle rivals or navigate the treacherous waters of Gotham’s criminal underworld. You, in turn, appreciate his cunning and his ability to turn every disadvantage into an opportunity.

- Oswald occasionally uses your past as a psychologist to his advantage, asking you to “profile” his enemies or predict their moves. While you’re happy to help, you’ve set boundaries, refusing to let your skills be used for outright manipulation. Surprisingly, he respects this, though he’ll grumble about it being “bad for business.”

- Despite his tough exterior, Oswald has moments of vulnerability that only you get to see. He trusts you to understand the pain and rejection that shaped him, the insecurities he hides behind his bravado. Your psychological insight helps you navigate these moments, offering comfort without making him feel weak.

- Oswald loves that you see him as more than just the Penguin. Your past as a psychologist allows you to understand his complexities in ways no one else does, but it’s your unwavering loyalty that truly wins his heart. With you by his side, he feels invincible—both as a crime lord and as the man he is underneath.

[anna-proxx]

♡ 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬

pairing: arthur morgan x fem!reader

summary: you and arthur are occasional lovers with no strings attached, except you caught feelings.

word count: 2613

tags: fluff, suggestive, love confession, high honor arthur, friends with benefits, fem!reader

warnings: nsfw/explicit content

a/n: I’ve been battling writer’s block due to perfectionism and decided to write a spontaneous oneshot as an attempt to pretty much break through it. It's not really a smut, just a fluff with suggestive aspects and nsfw setting. Found this idea sweet, hope you enjoy!

✮ masterlist

You and Arthur first met when he was drunk and while you usually steered away from drunk men, this one in particular caught your eye. For some goddamn reason you decided to take care of him as he sang to himself in the saloon, alone, almost picking a fight with one of the regular customers, if it weren’t for you getting involved.

He hadn’t even tried to touch you and overall he seemed to be safe to be around. You made him eat some food (though he protested, saying he’d rather dance with you) and drink some water, to make his hangover at least a bit better the next morning. Then you made sure he was sound asleep before leaving him in the hotel room, putting a little note on the nightstand saying his adaptation of the song about Otis Miller was by far your favorite.

The second time you met in the same saloon. Though this time he was still sober, with a beer in his hand, looking quite worn out after the day. He didn’t remember you that much but you explained and after realizing you were the stranger who took care of him and left his sick, disoriented self the note, he opened up to you more.

And after sharing a few drinks, that he insisted to pay for you, and some loose conversation, you ended up in that same room, this time with you both being tipsy and making out, after you made the first move and kissed him.

It was like you were obsessed. With the way his rough hands treated you so gently, how he towered over you with your back against the wall, how you found yourself enveloped in his strong arms or the deep low groans in your ear that sent tingles into your belly.

It progressed into something more regular. Both of you helped each other release all the pent up tension and forget about everything that was going on outside the bedroom. What happened in that hotel room stayed between the walls. The desperate kisses, muffled whines and hot touches, your bodies intertwined like stems of ivy. The hungry look in his eyes stayed ingrained in your mind, keeping you company during the nights you spent alone.

Arthur felt safe with you. After Eliza he was reluctant to do this type of thing again, but there was just something about you that set his whole self on fire and made it impossible to resist you.

There was a good hunting spot nearby and he liked to return there for that reason, or maybe, just maybe, it was also the way he stopped by at the saloon every time, searching the room for a familiar face as soon as he stepped inside.

This sort of relationship was unusual for you as well, but his touch drove you crazy. He was so gentle and rugged at the same time, so big and mysterious while having a soft side you got to see anytime he let his guard down.

You knew he was no saint. Though he never told you details, you assumed the law was after him, but your intuition let you relax in his presence and you leaned into the comfort, trusting that if anything, he would protect you rather than hurt you.

The connection was mostly physical but slowly, one night after another, he was taking a hold over your heart, as much as you denied it to yourself.

Until you were finally ready to accept it.

— ∽ ♡ ∼ —

“You… seemed… angry today,” you said between your breaths, lying with your back against the soft mattress and covered only by the thin layer of a blanket.

His eagerness today was really something, clutching the headboard as he pushed his hips against yours, making you lose your breath with every thrust. It seemed personal, like there was more tension to release than usually – and you were more than happy to give him the freedom.

A soft groan left his lips in an agreement, his lungs still trying to fill with air as he lay beside you, exhausted but satisfied.

You yourself were still in that sweet daze, your heart pumping warmth into your whole body and tingles dancing all over your stomach, a smile on your face you couldn’t hold back.

The soreness between your legs somehow felt so good, a reminder of this night that would stay even after he’s gone.

After a moment you rolled to your side, watching Arthur’s glistening face as he was covered in sweat, as much as you were. The loose strands of his hair were sticking to his forehead and a familiar warmth spread in your stomach as you imagined reaching out and brushing those strands back, gently caressing his cheek and planting a kiss on the little scar on his chin.

Yes. You were pretty much screwed.

He turned his head to look at you and caught your gaze, silently reciprocating it and giving you a perfect view at his greenish blue eyes. He looked so vulnerable in that moment it tugged at your heart, wanting nothing but to embrace him in your arms.

But you had no idea how he felt and you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself.

“I uh…” Arthur cleared his throat, turning away to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. “Lemme clean this up.”

Your soft gaze followed him as he held onto the cloth and as his eyes asked for consent before he lifted the blanket and gently wiped the stickiness from between your thighs.

You didn’t even try to hide your red cheeks, the situation making it seem more than understandable. You wondered whether he realized how sweet this was of him, how much it made you fall in love even more.

You were both silent and the air felt thick between you two, as if there were many things left unsaid and it made the silence louder.

You never knew but always wondered what ran through his mind after your shared intimacy, how he felt, what was the mysterious gleam in his eyes as he watched you hot and sweating beside him.

When he was done, you sat up with the blanket over you again, watching his flexing muscles as he turned away from you, giving you a perfect view at his back.

Arthur lit himself a cigarette, breathing out soft clouds of smoke that floated up towards the ceiling. He sat back, feeling nothing but lightness and comfort inside.

He turned his head to look at you and found you already watching.

“Ya want a drag?”

“Sure,” you accepted, holding the blanket over your chest as you leaned forward. Instead of taking the cigarette from him as he expected you to, you left it between his fingers and simply wrapped your lips around its end while he held it out for you.

You gently put your fingers around his wrist instead, letting him watch you a little surprised.

Leaning away, you fought back the irritation in your throat and turned away from him, tears forming in your eyes. With your mouth at the crook of your arm, you broke into a violent cough.

“Not used to it, huh?” Arthur lightly mocked you, bringing the cigarette back to his own lips as he watched you struggle to gain composure.

You turned to him with teary eyes, laughing at his snicker. “I can’t be good at everything, cowboy.”

After a few moments your breath finally steadied and you found Arthur lost in thought when you looked back at him. Studying his side profile without him taking notice as he continued to smoke, something occupying his mind.

You caught yourself wishing for those hands to hold your hips instead like they did just half an hour ago. For his bare chest to be pressed against yours again, to have his lips on your own. It was like an addiction.

Having him sit beside you like that, naked, turned you on all over again.

He had no idea how much he had you wrapped around his finger.

You cleared your throat, moving your gaze before he could catch you drooling over him.

“So uh… I’d like to ask something of you.”

He looked at you with surprise in his face, curiously turning his whole body towards you.

“Huh, what is it?” he asked in a relaxed tone, shifting closer to you.

You chuckled under your breath as you turned to reach for your satchel lying beside the bed and pulled out a folded paper.

You slightly shook your head at how silly this was, but handed Arthur the paper along with a pencil nonetheless, a grin on your face.

“I’d like an autograph please,” you said playfully, making sure he knew this was a harmless request from you. Lying back, your eyes followed him as he unfolded the paper with one hand, a wave of shock stunning him as he stared at his own wanted poster.

He immediately searched for your eyes, puzzled by the gesture, frowning in confusion. But the soft features of your face and relaxed body language calmed him. You were just playing around.

Now amused, he chuckled, looking back at the paper in his hand. “Where did ya get that?”

There was a hint of insecurity in his voice. Now there was no doubt you knew about him being a criminal. You had an evidence in your possession and yet you were still here, in the same bed, naked, your skin still hot from his touch.

“On a business trip. Seems you’re quite a celebrity.” You grinned, moving closer as you looked over his shoulder at the drawn outlines of his face.

“You’re prettier in real life, trust me.”

He softly huffed at the compliment, hoping you wouldn’t notice his flushed cheeks. But you did and found it endearing.

“So… you gon’ collect that reward?” he asked, a joking tone in his voice though he kept his gaze fixated on the poster.

You chuckled. “No, no, I don’t think I’d stand a chance against someone built like you, besides, I don’t usually sleep with people I plan to turn in to the law.” You kept the playful attitude, pointing to the pencil in his hand. “Come on, sign it. I’ll keep it as a memento.”

“This?” He seemed amused by the idea, not grasping why you’d possibly do such thing.

He turned around to stub out his cigarette, his thoughts an entangled mess. Did you really not mind? He almost spiraled into overthinking as he stared back at his effigy, paired with a ‘wanted’ and a fair sum of dollars in bold. He wished he could make this part of him disappear, especially around you.

“Sure. I don’t have your photo, so…” You were clearly still joking with your lighthearted tone, little did he know there was truth in it. You planned to keep that poster, safely hidden away, as a way to keep something as a reminder of him. Was that silly?

He chuckled again as he put the pencil against a corner of the poster, scribbling down his name in neat, pretty letters.

Arthur trusted you, knew you wouldn’t misuse it. Your eyes were too honest and your physical intimacy too passionate for that.

You thanked him as he handed it back to you, giddily putting it aside and giving him a big smile.

“I must assure you,” you started teasing him, “that this is my first time being involved with an outlaw. You’re not a threat to me, are you, Mr Morgan?”

“Well that depends,” Arthur answered with the same kind of mischief, a playful gleam in his eyes as he turned to his stomach and lay close to you, his breath warm on your face.

“Depends on what?” You held back a laugh, enjoying the mood of the conversation.

“I’ve made ya scream before.”

“Oh, shut up.” You gently hit his arm with your palm, a laugh escaping your lips this time, making the outlaw laugh with you.

“You know, you’re not quite that threatening,” you said, still smiling, purposefully teasing Arthur who furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Am not?”

“No. Unless you attack me with your kisses, that is.”

“You haven’t seen the things I’ve done, woman.”

“No, but I’ve certainly felt some other things.” Without thinking you hurriedly planted a kiss on his scrunched nose and turned your bare back to him, sitting on the edge of bed as you reached for your clothes scattered around the floor.

Arthur lay back with his arms behind his head as he continued to rest in bed, watching you put on your clothes, though quite messily, and your hair that stayed tangled despite you running your fingers through it.

You let out a soft sigh as the room got filled with comfortable silence, yet it made you nervous to the core.

You were in love and you usually weren’t afraid of expressing your feelings. But now it felt so intimidating, so risky.

“Arthur…” you said with seriousness in your tone this time, quiet and hesitant enough to pique Arthur’s interest. He sat up straight in bed and you looked back over your shoulder, catching him as beautiful as ever.

Lit by warm candlelight, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his bare skin. The broad shoulders, though slouched in relaxation, his chest and flat stomach, small scars all over his exposed arms. The way the blanket lay casually over his lap brought warmth into your cheeks and you bit your lip as you remembered the events of just a little while ago.

You looked at his hands, his knuckles bruised and his fingers holding the sheets. And finally his face, curiously watching you with something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite identify. His light brown hair that you loved seeing this ruffled and messy. He really was so beautiful.

“I think…” You tried to swallow the dryness in your mouth, your palms sweating as you struggled to hold eye contact. “I caught feelings for you, Arthur.”

There. You said it. And you felt like a fool.

Your cheeks were now red and you felt a pit in your stomach, not quite believing you just said it out loud. You knew you wouldn’t have it in you to say it again.

You avoided his gaze, having no idea what his reaction was, the little moment of silence felt like an eternity to you.

“You… did?” There was disbelief in his voice and it made you shift nervously, taking a deep breath as you seemingly forgot to breathe.

“Yes.”

The silence became unbearable. You didn’t know how he looked at you, too scared to see the expression of his face and too embarrassed to meet his eyes.

“I have feeling for you as well, (y/n).”

Your eyes widened in surprise and your heart jumped in your chest as you turned around, joy spreading through your veins.

You searched for any sign of deceit in his face, but there was none. He sat there looking completely vulnerable, honest, defenseless, his cheeks pink as he watched you back.

You rushed towards him, cupping his cheeks before connecting your lips in a long sweet kiss. Arthur wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his body as he lovingly pulled at your lips, softly breathing into the kiss with a sense of relief.

Slowly you put his weight on him, making him fall backwards little by little until his head lay on a pillow underneath you.

He broke the kiss, looking up at you with dilated pupils and flushed cheeks. “‘M the only one undressed here.”

You grinned at him, not moving a single inch as you kept him locked under you. “I don’t mind.”

With a kiss you muffled his laugh, a wide smile on your own face.

“So… how ‘bout I join you on your hunting trip tomorrow?” you proposed, hope in your eyes.

“Sure.” Arthur chuckled at your excitement, finding the spark in your eyes adorable as he caressed your cheek. “But I ain’t much of a good hunter.”

“That’s okay.” You kissed the corner of his mouth. “Me neither.”

[ivystoryweaver]

How's your day been? :)

Hi bb,

I had a nice day.

🥯 Slept in, ate a late breakfast.

📝 Wrote a lot; that was fun. Updated my Poe Story and posted some Moon Boys Headcanons like I do. I wrote another one too but it's not published yet. So that was nice.

📺 Watched a period piece film - I've been really chugging those lately idk why.

🍕 Made a homemade pizza for dinner.

🌅 Took a drive at sunset. It was really pretty.

☕️ Made a yummy decaf coffee and sat in my cozy living room, all lit up for autumn. 🎃🍂

Work has been stressful, so it was a lovely Saturday off. How are YOU

[raguiras]

Join "Ramshackle Isn't on Fire (Yet)"!

Hosted by @raguiras.

SHARING IS APPRECIATED! ♡

OUR BLOG: @riofy-ramshackle

In this timeline, there isn't one Yuu — no, there are MANY, and as a result, things never get boring at Ramshackle...

Applications open!

All about my Twisted Wonderland fan project under the cut!

First off, who am I?

I'm Mionn, a TWST-obsessed artist who recently started posting art here and is planning to make a ton of Twisted Wonderland content in the future.

Said content is going to include a fair share of comics and OC content, which is why I came up with this project.

I also have a meme blog, @twistedmionn, and a blog devoted to my Deuce x Allen ship, @spade-of-storms.

I love hosting projects, and I hope this will be enjoyable for everyone who decides to join!

What is the purpose of the project?

connecting with others in the fandom & making friends

sharing your own OCs and discovering the ones of other members

fun shenanigans with canons & OCs

developing OC relationships

I'm planning to make short comics based on this project, so your OC will occasionally appear in them!

there's going to be a Tumblr blog where I reblog content involving the OCs participating in the project (= serves as a "library" for the OCs)

What exactly is going to be done?

I'm going to make occasional short comics involving the OCs from the project, and they might also make cameos in my usual art.

Outside of that, this project is meant for making friends with fellow OC havers or strengthening already existing friendships! You can also build relationships between your OCs and the ones made by other members.

Additionally, we're going to have a Discord server that allows members to freely ramble about TWST and our OCs. If you don't have Discord, that's totally fine as well!

How do I join? What do I have to do?

It's easy! Send me a DM asking me to join the project and submit all the OCs you want to be a part of it. We will work on further important details then!

Who can join?

Anyone who isn't a proshipper/racist/anti-LGBTQ+.

If I join, do I have to draw/write/do anything for this project?

Unless you want to, not at all! It's meant to be a fun project, not a duty.

Does this project involve roleplay?

No! However, we will have an optional roleplay channel in the Discord server.

Do I need Discord to join the project?

It's preferred, but not necessary in the slightest!

Is there anything monetary about this project?

Nope! It's entirely for shits and giggles.

Can I submit Yuu/Ramshackle OCs only?

While the project is going to focus on the Yuus/Ramshackle students, all types of OCs (except for fandorm ones) are welcome!

How many of my OCs can be included?

As many as you want to.

Is there anything else of note? What's the plot?

Since there are going to be multiple Yuus, Ramshackle doesn't have an official prefect in this project.

None of the Yuus presently know why they're in TWST or what their purpose is.

Are there going to be ships canon to this project?

Yes, and they're actually fairly relevant!

Unless the owners of two OCs decide on making a poly ship, only one OC x canon ship is allowed per canon character.

For the sake of fairness, please submit one OC x canon ship only (maybe your Yumeship/the one that matters the most to you).

OC x OC ships are allowed!

OC x faculty ships are allowed as long as the OC is of age!

OC x side character ships are allowed, too.

Official OC x canon list

Riddle x Grace (@/cyn-write)

Ace x Ashi (@/ashipiko)

Deuce x Allen (@/raguiras / me)

Trey x Haru (@/vanrouge13)

Cater x Vizzie (@/symphonicmetal101)

Leona x Yuuta (@/bunnwich)

Ruggie x Ivy (@/cherrytreegrove)

Jack x Kiyuu (@/skriblee-ksk)

Azul x Taru (@/taruruchi)

Floyd x Yuhua (@/distant-velleity)

Jade x Celes (@/celestelunia)

Kalim x Spider (@/driedupeyeballs)

Jamil x Yulla (@/grimmxelor)

Vil x Bram (@/valy-gc)

Rook x Soleil (@/nyx-of-night)

Epel x Yuuma (@/ollieeyy)

Idia x Yume (@/comingyourlugubriousness)

Malleus x Reina (@/inkblot-mirror)

Silver x Yuukuro (@/beneathsakurashade)

Sebek x Thea (@/althea-and-alcestris)

Lilia x Via (@/galacticstationsblog)

Crowley x Tammy (@/miss-atena)

Crewel x Ezra (@/boopshoops)

Trein x

Sam x

Vargas x

Neige x Beiyuu (@/silksatinbonnet)

Rollo x Beto

Che'nya x Rem

Fellow x Polaris (@/nerdazzler)

Is there a deadline for submitting OCs? Can I join even weeks after the project starts?

You can join anytime or, if you're already a member, add new OCs! There is no deadline.

Can I leave the project?

I'd be sad to see you leave, but it's entirely your choice!

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

OCs in the project

We currently have 100+ OCs made by more than 70 creators in the project. They include Yuus, NRC students, faculty, and even some friends from RSA! Join in on the fun and include your own OCs in the project. (✿◕‿◕)

[yandere-sins]

Ivy random question in my head

You once mentioned that platonic yandere König often hides Kortac!Operator!reader from Ghost; where and how 💀

Did he just randomly push her into an empty room or storage when he senses Ghost and told her to wait or something-

AHA! Finally someone caught onto it! Let me write you some headcanons for that :D

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

♡ König's usual hiding place is easy and straightforward: His room. He'll ask you to meet him there or send someone to tell you to go there to retrieve some tasks or review documents with him. You'll have to go (begrudgingly), and he enjoys wasting your precious time by going on awkward yet never-ending talks. Even when you try to shift the conversation back to work, he still asks you about your favorite food, where you'd like to travel, and what you think of x, y, and z. It's tiring and unnecessary, and it adds double the time once he gets to the part where he actually reviews duties and operations with you. But you are untouchable as long as you are in his vicinity. No one gets past the door when König is having alone time with you.

♡ Now, sadly, he can't stay with you all the time. So he assigns you tasks! Fun... meaningless tasks. Sometimes he locks you in an office for that, returning to let you out a while later. Other times, he sends you across the whole base on a goose hunt for something he needs. He once assigned you to count ammunition... well, every bullet you could find. On a military base. You almost cried. But as long as only he knows where you are, König reached his goal and made it harder for anyone else to find you.

♡ In certain circumstances, he hides with you. And it's by far the worst thing. You don't like the closeness to him in his room? Tough luck. You two sat silently in a car once for hours in complete darkness just so König could make sure no one would snatch you from him at night. One time, you were doing inventory and unexpectedly got pulled into a container for an hour, with König refusing to let you go back to work just because he saw some suspicious activity that he didn't want to disclose to you in any way or form (he was really missing you that day).

♡ Despite having a high rank, his hiding shenanigans are occasionally overwritten by someone even higher on the list, and it's hell come true. König will be anxious, asking why you don't want to stay with him or why you are no longer listening to him despite you just doing your job. He invades every mission you are sent on, going berserk back at base if he isn't allowed to. You can watch him get angry, bluffing and shoving everyone in the base aside as he pouts and freaks out that your security is endangered, and he is watching you like a hawk constantly, just appearing wherever you go and not saying anything. He knows you must fulfill your orders, but he's not happy about it, and König will let you feel it.

♡ Fun fact: Ghost is usually close by when he's not on active duty. He hides in the shadows around you and even gets a thrill from invading König's hideouts with you. Even though König is trying so hard, Ghost will find you. But like a good hunter, he waits for the right moment, always keeping the colonel and you on your feet. You never notice that he's always right there with you until it's already too late.