#clockwork always has him clean up his messes but not this time

[ew-selfish-art]

DPxDC Au: Normally when Danny vandalizes ancient cave walls and historic places on his 'favor' missions for Clockwork, he gets sent back to erase them. But no, apparently this time, when Danny added his actual phone number into some painting, he's not allowed to go back and fix it. Ugh.

...

Tim has had the painting of Bruce professionally reviewed a few times since the old Bat was retrieved from the time stream. He's not entirely sure how the painting still exists, he's not even sure that it matters any more... But one day Tim catches something new in the painting.

It was small, and it could've just been the light at first but... Is that a phone number in the background?? It looks like black marker on the black curtains and it makes him feel feral. The family is kinder this time about how they think he's gone crazy- but each one of them admit that they can't remember a phone number ever being present.

The lab reports that the number was added over the paint- and that it's an ink based marking akin to a sharpie but like, hundreds of years old. So... It's been added recently but not at all recently enough for Tim to have an explanation.

Tim doesn't want to hear any more of his family members opinions on the matter and he certainly isn't going to just, stop investigating or something stupid like that. So, he takes the painting to the tower, gathers his team (Cassie, Kon and Bart), and they call the number in the middle of the night after a lot of planning/back-and-forth/catastrophizing.

It doesn't answer until the final ring, and the static that comes through the phone is bone chilling. A deep, monstrous groan which echoed with agony fills the room.

"I have a math test in like, three hours, who the fuck are you and why the fuck are you calling in the middle of the night?" The voice now complains, still sounding vaguely inhuman despite it's very human word choices.

"Your number is in a historical painting, we had a few questions but uh, you can call us back later?" Tim cringes as he says it but he hadn't planned on having to reply to someone trying to go back to bed. Or someone who was apparently also a teenager. (He had so, so many contingency plans for like, every kind of villain, alien or demon. lame.)

"...Ugh. might as well." The voice calls out, agreeing with a sigh that echos so deeply the team can feel it in their bones.

"Cool. Good luck on your test?" Tim offers.

"Mph." And the line hangs up.

...

Danny is at lunch with Sam and Tucker when he remembers the late night call. He'd spent the morning bitching about never getting a full night of sleep and it finally occurred to him what had happened. Of course his friends think it's hilarious that CW wouldn't let him erase his number. Of course they do.

They stop laughing when Danny calls the number back.

"Hello, this is Red Robin of Gotham. I have Superboy, Wonder girl and Impulse present with me. How did your math test go?"

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #let danny be a shit head kid who puts the weird s on historical documents #clockwork always has him clean up his messes but not this time #this time he holds it over his head and danny is so annoyed #yj just want answers and dammit the horrors persist but so do they #someone please continue this #i beg

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.

or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?

or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~

Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.

It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?

Danny’s obsession was going crazy.

Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?

Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?

Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*

~~~~~

Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!

~~~~~

Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?

~~~~~2 hours later~~~~

~~~~~

Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.

Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.

To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.

Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.

The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:

~~~~~

Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.

#dpxdc prompt #dpxdc au #dpxdc memes #dpxdc crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #dead on main #dead on main ship #alcohol

[help-itrappedmyself]

Crimes and Punishments Part 2: Speedsters

Masterpost

“Why are we all here again?” The Flash asked Batman.  Batman just made a noise in response. Like a hmmph, that somehow insinuated that Flash should know the answer to that question. 

Robin hangs up the phone with this Danny person, and states that he should be arriving shortly. And he does, coming right through the window, gaping the whole way.

“Guys, I can’t thank you enough for hosting this meeting. And setting it up and everything, but mostly for hosting. Because my realm is slightly poisonous to you guys and because you’ve given me the chance to visit space! We’re in space right now, how awesome is that?! Can someone tell me all about this place later?” Danny rambles, as excited as Red said he would be. 

Red gives Bruce a smug look in response.

“You’re welcome, Danny.”

“Now that we’re all here.” Batman grunts and everyone starts taking seats around the table.

Danny sheepishly takes a seat at the middle seat facing the window. The three speedsters sit across from him, Bruce at one head and Nightwing on the other. Red sits next to Bruce and Danny, Robin sits next to Nightwing and Danny. Danny pulls out a few pieces of paper and a pen.

Once everyone is situated, Batman gestures to Danny. “You called this meeting, about some broken laws?”

Danny nodded solemnly, his aura becoming slightly darker and more oppressing. He faces Bruce, “Yes, I have on my council the ancients of time and speed.” He turns to the speedsters. “You have been accused of breaking Clockwork, the ancient of time’s, rules about interfering in the timestream. He has stated many instances that you have left your own time, changed the past, and changed the future. Unfortunately, in doing so you have also corrupted reality and interfered in more laws of my dimension in bringing back the dead.”

“I’m sorry, but who exactly are you to be the authority on time and speed and, what, the dead too? Who are you at all?” Flash asks.

“We were told you were King of an alternate dimension, how does our dimension affect yours at all?” Kid Flash asks.

“I’m not the authority for time and speed, those are members of my council. Clockwork has been bringing complaints to me about all of you for a long time, but it wasn’t until I started investigating the other matter-” He makes a gesture towards Red, who nods, “that I discovered that the main cause of these problems has been your meddling with reality. You have created cracks in reality, caused by the fracture in the space-time continuum, and these cracks opened your realm to mine, which is poisonous to yours by the way. Clockwork has been cleaning up your messes in the timestream, and now I have cleaned up the leaks, and there is patchwork being done on reality right now.” He checks the last few points on his paper, making marks for each correction being made.

“You have control over all of that?” Impulse blurts out.

“More like I have control over the people who control all of that. Mostly. I’m in charge of space!” Danny smiles wide, fangs out and aura glowing for a second. “Your main interference with Space is the fact that you broke holes into your dimension, but I’m not big on punishments. Speed, the one who gave you your powers, she said you’d met with her before?” Danny pauses and glances between the speedsters.

“We’ve met the Speedforce.” Flash states. “We don’t fully understand the Speedforce or how it works though.”

“Yeah, that would be her! Dani doesn’t take the time to explain anything, always places to be, you know? But, she presently doesn’t have any complaints. Which complicates matters for me. Clockwork is demanding that she take the gifts she gave you, your powers, but she is refusing.”

The speedsters, having tensed, all relaxed at that.

“But Clockwork demands reparations for all the damage you have caused, and all the work he has put in to correct your mistakes.” Danny shrugs in a what-can-you-do manner. “And you have each meddled in the timestream correct?”

They each confirm.

“Right. We’re going to have to come to an agreement on repercussions for your violation of time law and space law. Now, I can’t say for sure who did what, or how many times, and what damage in particular it caused, which means unless you want to fess up right now, you’re all going to receive equal punishments, on the assumption you each caused a third of the damage.”

“I did most of it.” Flash says immediately. “I was the first to get my powers, I didn’t know how to use them, or how badly messing with the timestream ends up until I did it multiple times.”

“But we all did it!” Kid Flash argues.

“I’m technically messing with the timestream right now.” Impulse mutters.

“You did it while learning too! At least you figured it out before creating something like Flashpoint.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Danny raises his voice over theirs as they start to argue. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” He rubs his head for a moment. “Now, mistakes are understandable, especially while learning new powers. So, in the future, new speedsters will be given leniency so long as you three take responsibility for teaching them the dangers and the rules. We will not punish those learning unfairly.”

The speedsters settle back down in their chairs.

“We can teach new speedsters.” Flash agrees.

“Wonderful! That burden is now part of your punishment.” Danny makes a note on his paper. “One of the main damages done, raising the dead in your alterations of the timeline, will at this point not be undone. From this moment on, everyone stays how they are. We don’t want to go around killing people for your mistakes.”

The speedsters start glancing at the Bats, not having known that was even an option.

“Thank you.” Red states on behalf of the speedsters. Danny nods.

“With that covered,” He looks back at his papers, shuffling through a few. “Clockwork has made an agreement with Dani, as punishment for abusing your powers they will be taken away-”

All the speedsters start to interject, but Danny lets out some eldritch features and lets his aura become more and more powerful and fear-inducing until they all cower back in their seats. Once they are quiet he continues.

“I have been informed that you are all heroes on this planet, so we have all agreed to call this community service. Based on how long you’ve been helping and a few other factors, we made this decision: you will each lose your powers for a total of two months, and then be placed on probation. If you continue to serve your community and use your powers for good, then we will have no further problems. If any of you mess with the timestream on purpose your powers will be revoked permanently. If it is an accident, your powers will be removed again temporarily, but for a time period yet to be determined, but that will be longer than two months. Do you understand?”

They all nod slowly, but the Kid Flash speaks up.

“What if they need us while our powers are gone? We do help, we have people counting on us, what if our teams need us?”

Danny gives him a smile. “The Bats, when I spoke to them about the situation earlier, were concerned about that as well. If you agree to this plan, and we agree to only take one of your powers away at a time, that way the other two can coordinate and help when needed.”

“Will I be sent back to my own timeline?” Impulse’s voice is small and quiet.

“No. Just like with the dead, what is done is done.” Danny makes sure to have eye contact with Impulse. “This agreement does mean you could never go back though, so if you did want to…” Danny trails off.

Impulse shakes his head.

“Okay then.” Danny checks his papers again. “Were there any more questions?”

He gives it a moment.

“Then I will take this agreement back to my people and make sure everything is set. Then we will need to set up a time frame for the removal periods. For now though, everything is done. Thank you so much for your cooperation!”

#batman #danny phantom #the flash #dpxdc #dcxdp #my writing #fanfiction #summoning game show #speedsters

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

BETCHA!

noa had expected that giving advice to kaiser on his love life would be no easy feat, but when kaiser realizes that you have next-to-no interest in him, the german prodigy works up a storm in his master’s office. noa can only pray that he has the patience to whip kaiser into the true romantic gentleman you deserve. (+insp.)

gender neutral reader

content warning(s): kaiser x reader except it’s mostly noa teaching kaiser how to not be a shitty lover

Noa knew that becoming the mentor and master of any team would be far from an easy job. 

He had braced himself for the worst when he agreed to teach Bastard Munchen everything in his own arsenal, to lead the new youth team to become soccer’s future for when he would one day inevitably retire. He was more than aware of the nasty personalities the sport seemed to bring out from everyone (himself included, he had to admit), and he had readied himself to see sparks fly in all the worst ways possible as the teenage boys butted heads with each other.

Growing pains, he chalked it up to. Even he was once like that. Hungry, desperate, ready to prove himself to the world as the true diamond-in-the-rough amongst the common pebbles all around him.

He had braced himself for physical fights, with the youths squabbling with each other over who should have scored. And he got plenty of that. He also got plenty of haranguing them into getting up early in the mornings for practice and fighting to keep them motivated into the unforgiving hours of the night. He had braced himself for dealing with all of their managerial issues, from the boys transferring teams to needing travel visas and whatnot. 

All of the little things he had grown used to and faced during his own career, Noa was more than equipped to deal with. And he believed he solved each and every one of these problems with the same level head and grace that secured him his spot as the world’s number one striker.

What Noa wasn’t prepared for, however, were the issues involved with the budding relationships the Bastard Munchen players would face. His advice for their romantic lives were usually the same: make smart choices, stay out of paparazzi’s sight, and be respectful. That typically did the job for most of his mentees, and Noa could put his busy mind at rest.

Except for one specific boy who seemed to make it his life’s reason to break every rule that Noa had set in place for them.

Noa was sick and tired of cleaning up after every mess Kaiser made. He was used to Kaiser dragging in all sorts of celebrities and famous people he had hit it off with in a club or some other place, bragging about how he had finally found the one, to which Noa was always patient (and quick to remind the young boy that he had still yet to turn 20 and most definitely had not found “the one” quite yet). Like clockwork, a week would pass, and Kaiser would be on the quest to find the next person to entertain his fickle heart.

So frankly, when you rolled around, Noa had thought Kaiser’s obsession with you would only last about the same as his previous flings. Noa quietly waited out a week. Then another. And another. Then a few more. And to his surprise, you stuck to Kaiser’s mind. Kaiser still pursued you as relentlessly as he did the first day he brought you up to Noa, and Noa realized how difficult it would be to actually wrangle in a full-blown delusional, lovestruck Kaiser.

“NOAAAAAAAAAA!”

Noa rubbed at his temples, closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath through his nose. He held it for a few seconds, like how his therapist had recommended, before breathing out through his mouth for a few more seconds. Noa was fully aware that he threw a life of peace away the moment he chose to become a professional athlete, but asking for more than fifteen minutes of uninterrupted silence seemed less plausible than winning the World Cup fifteen times in a row.

The door to his office flew open with such force that the Frenchman was surprised it hadn’t flown clean off of its hinges. “Shitty master! There you are! I need your advice!”

“No need to be so violent or loud, Kaiser.” Noa turned on the swivel chair the Blue Lock facility had given him, tearing his eyes away from the statistics and team strategies he had been working on. “They’ll be able to hear even from across the compound.”

Kaiser stood in his doorway, looking disheveled and near tears. He had sprinted here, evident from the thin layer of sweat on the German boy’s forehead and how heavily he was breathing. Noa doubted that Kaiser was coming to him needing advice on training or improvising his skills. 

No, Noa knew what Kaiser was here for already.

“Alright, how did you mess up this time, Kaiser?” The Frenchman asked exhaustedly. He had gotten used to this song-and-dance with his pupil a long time ago, ever since you had wormed your way into Kaiser’s heart. “Did you call (Y/n) a rude name? Or say something mean?”

Kaiser scrunched his pretty face up, stomping closer to Noa and sticking his bottom lip out. “No! I didn’t do anything like that. Noa, it’s so much more severe! I’d rather that they hate me and wish me dead than this! You don’t understand—they don’t care about me at all!!”

Noa bit back a snort. “Oh. And I thought you had done so much worse.”

Kaiser began frantically pacing around Noa’s office, agitatedly wringing his hands. “I knew you wouldn’t understand, you shitty master! Ugh, this is what I get, going to someone as stoic as you for advice with my love life! I don’t get it. Why doesn’t (Y/n) want me? I’m the whole package! I have people crawling, and I mean, fucking crawling all over me. That super hot actress everyone’s been talking about? She was begging me for a date last week! I’m popular and handsome and rich, and (Y/n) acts like I’m just some guy from across the street! I’m not some guy from across the street!”

“No, you aren’t-”

Kaiser shook his hands in the air. “I’m the Michael Kaiser! 300 million yen annual salary, master of Kaiser Impact, golden ace of Bastard Munchen, and God’s chosen emperor! How dare they not want me as much as I want them? Can’t they see how madly in love I am? That I’ve practically made a fool of myself at this point? Trying this hard to make them fall for me?”

Kaiser breathed heavily after having dumped all of that onto Noa, and the older man stared at Kaiser with singlehandedly the most unimpressed look on his face. The German athlete let out a strangled groan, the reality of his dejection sinking in properly, and Noa watched as Kaiser buried his face into his hands.

“First and foremost, Kaiser, you have to understand that people have different tastes. What might be appealing to actresses and celebrities and whoever else you attract might not be (Y/n)’s type,” Noa sighed, leaning back in his chair and massaging his head. “Some people avoid famous and popular people on purpose, because it’s an awful lot of work to be with someone under that much public scrutiny. It’s a big thing to ask of someone, regardless of their interest in you.”

“But I have the money! The body! The looks! Anyone would be flattered to have my interest! C’mon, Noa- Fame aside, I’m sexy as fuck!” Kaiser motioned vaguely at his body. “I’m sexy, right? Tell me I’m sexy, Noa!”

“Kaiser, I am not doing that.”

“You get what I’m trying to say!”

“Secondly,” Noa continued sternly. He didn’t particularly have the energy to flatter Kaiser that much more. “Have you actually tried wooing them in a… more appropriate way?”

Kaiser frowned deeply, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you mean in a more appropriate way? Shouldn’t they fall to my feet in utter worship of how wonderful I am? Shouldn’t they be sobbing over how grateful they are to me that I would give them even a crumb of my attention?”

Oh god. Noa wondered where he had gone wrong with Kaiser. The headache that had been ebbing in and out ever since the youth had barged into his office was only amplifying. “No, Kaiser. I mean the kind of courtship that most other people would try. Like compliments, gifts, maybe grabbing a coffee together. You have to earn someone’s love. It isn’t something that’s guaranteed nor is it something that’s owed.”

The German boy’s frown faded slightly, morphing into a small look of confusion. He repeated, “Earn? You mean… I have to try to get (Y/n)’s favor? They aren’t smitten with me already?”

“Probably not. If they haven’t already started a relationship with you yet, that usually means you haven’t won their heart.” The older athlete explained calmly. “Try the things I told you. Tell them that you like seeing them around. Maybe get them a small thing of flowers. Being kind to someone never hurts. Especially if they aren’t exactly… used to dealing with your bold personality. You have to start with baby steps before you can get to all the big passionate things you’re thinking of.”

Noa wondered for a split second if Kaiser would fume and brush his advice off as he usually did, but for once, the boy nodded along and silently mulled over his mentor’s words. Noa continued to watch him quietly, hoping inwardly that he had gotten through to the boy and that maybe he’d quit harassing you with what he could only imagine to be the most audacious courtship in the universe. You were truly a trooper to somehow keep up with all of Kaiser’s ridiculous antics. 

“For once you’re of help, shitty master,” Kaiser hummed, and the German nodded to himself.. “I know a place I could order a few blue roses from… And there’s a really nice café not too far from the facility once we get down the mountain… Yeah, I can see it all coming together! Okay, I have a plan!”

“Ah, by the way,” Noa interrupted. Kaiser looked at the Frenchman, as if to silently ask him if there was anything else he needed to be lectured about. Noa cleared his throat, looking firmly at the young man. “Remember what I told you, no matter what (Y/n) does in response to your efforts. Love is earned, not owed. Even if you try to be kind to them and flirt with them differently, you aren’t entitled to their love. If they make it very clear that you aren’t interested, the right thing to do is back off and give them space. Do you understand?”

“Of course I do,” Kaiser scoffed. “If they decide that they don’t want me… Then that’s their loss! I’ll use my indescribable charm to find someone better… Even though I don’t really think there’s anyone better than them.”

“Well, no matter what you do, I’m sure I’ll hear of it.” Noa chuckled softly as the young blond’s cheeks turned red as he started thinking about you, and Kaiser hid his pink face behind his hands. Kaiser turned on his heel, straightening his back and puffing his chest out, clearly determined to enact Noa’s heartfelt advice and to undoubtedly unleash upon you another wave of unrestrained romance.

Noa knew that Kaiser’s wails and screeches in his desperate attempts for your favor would be far from over, but if he could bit-by-bit place the boy on the correct path at wooing you over, then maybe all of Kaiser’s temper tantrums and 3 AM rants about how he is 100% confident that he’s going marry you someday would be worth it. If there was one thing that Kaiser was, it was incredibly stubborn about not letting things that he deemed as “his” slip away.

“Ah, one more thing, Kaiser-”

Kaiser stopped dead in his tracks, already halfway out of the room. “Yeah? What is it, shitty master?”

“Don’t fantasize about marriage just yet. I think it’s still way too early for you to be planning out a wedding with (Y/n) already…”

x

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #michael kaiser #noel noa #x reader #my writing

[creepy-friday]

Creepypasta Mansion Headcanons

Warnings: misogyny,suggestive themes,violence,mental illness and drugs mentions

Slenderman

I see Slenderman as an entity who uses his power to control more and more of the human world,but at the same time I can still see some sort of "humanity"

He took in Sally because he felt pity for her and treated her as his daughter after all,so I believe there are still some feelings underneath all of this darkness

Using and desposing residents is no strange occurrence to him,yet he is able to form bonds with them and see them as more than possessions and valuable minions

Because of this,there are definitely exceptions on who he decides to kill and who he decides to punish and to what degree.The others have an idea who is more favoured than the other

Cody

he's fresh meat,new to the proxy team,yet he's already pissing the living hell out of Masky

Cody's skills sure can be a threat to the power hierarchy among the proxies,altough he would selfishly want more he won't get promoted solely because you're already all the team needs Slendy's words,not mine

He has a special sibling-like relationship with Toby,at first he looked up to him as a mentor but now he became a little cheeky shit and wants to overpower him,kinda like how smaller siblings would want to do

He's also in the lab 80% of his working time,so no one really sees him that often which means he has time to do and clean up the messes he does with his chemicals

Cody is no longer the loser everyone in his life assumed him to be.He has power and became mentally and physically way stronger,it's only normal for him to want to be seen as the bigger/stronger person,the one who can finally protect what he loves do what you want with this information

Toby

Mister insecurity himself.He was bullied outside of the mansion and now he's bullied by slightly more deranged and dangerous motherfuckers.I feel bad for him to be honest

I believe the residents choose to keep their memories or not(or they are punished to lose them and have to work to get them back)from before they were abducted in the mansion,but Toby choose to lose a part of them and now he feels bad for it,especially because he cannot truly remember his sister's face

He believes he was a coward because of this and now he does everything in his power to prove to himself otherwise,but the constant toxic environment doesn't really let him to

Even if he is allowed to go to town he might lose his control and that isn't really good for him and his "work".He cannot be with people and cannot be alone,except some emo moments from him

Yeah,he was fucked by Natalie a couple of times when he was sort of new in the mansion,but nothing too serious happened between them.Now he resents and slut shames her but never to her face,he's kinda afraid of her lol

Clockwork

she has no shame whatsoever,would talk the dirtiest pornographic/goriest content over breakfast like it's the morning news

I headcanon her as a chaotic bisexual

There are reasons why she's here,so she's not all sweets and roses.She slept with Toby and made his mommy issues worse.After she got bored of her boy toy she ditched him and now they have this "bad blood" with each other

She was lonely but Toby had too many issues and she really needed someone to improve her,that's why they are now not in the greatest terms

She doesn't like Nina because Jane doesn't like her,it's kinda like how your best friend has beef with someone and now you have it too

I see her,Jane and Liu being mostly seen together because they tend to get along really well.She's definitely the glue that keeps the group together

Jane

strong woman.Definetly uses way too much perfume so her presence is always known,it's her assassination signature

Altough Clockwork puts on a strong and confident demeanor,Masky would avoid Jane the most she gives him the creeps

The reason she doesn't like Nina it's because of her past involving Jeff,she would never forgive her bad decisions.She surprisingly gets along with Liu because of his cool demeanour and his ability to calm her down

In terms of Sully,she actually is the one to mellow him down

She observes a lot and doesn't talk much,I see her listening to goth music in her room while she reminisces over her past life

Jane either ignores or gets extremely violent with Jeff,but all of the aggression is MOSTLY started by Jeff

Liu

he's a sweet guy.He's the calm after the storm while Sully is most like the actual storm

I see Liu having trust issues and would need a while to get intimate with someone,he labels himself demisexual, much to Sully's disapproval since he puts his dick into anything that has a hole

He's the only friendly face you would see when you need one

Liu has strong opinions and moral codes despite his work,I headcanon him as a feminist tbh

You will know when Sully takes over,even tough he likes to pretend he's still Liu for personal reasons, the eyes never lie ("the eyes chico,they never lie")

Jeff

he definitely has issues but he loves himself

don't let this ass fool you,if you go trough all the layers you will witness mister insecurity 2.0

uses his looks to his advantage.Jumpscares people,tries to overpower them,eats only gym shit and he's blasting metal everytime he works out

this guy loves when women fight,finds it especially amusing whenever Clockwork starts to fuck up Zero smh

his trauma doesn't justify his actions tough.Everytime he gets bored he goes out and tortures his victims for hours,rapes them,photograph and humiliate them just because he feels like it.

Jeffrey has his moment of question about his morals but he will simply get high and try to puff puff pass these thoughts away

The only person who stands him is Ben,and even if Jeff won't admit it,he's secretly grateful he has someone.Sure,Liu cares about his brother and even if they act as if nothing has happened between them sometimes,he knows that everyone gave up on him.

The tought terrifies and soothes him.He wants to be free and to fuck up even more but at the same time he wants one more chance

sadomasochist

Hold him accountable for his actions.As much as he needs someone to untie his strings he needs someone to further pressure him to do better.

Masky

the amount of times Natalie smacked the table with her palm and made him jump inside is galactic

before you came he definitely TRIED to bang at least one woman in the mansion,all to Jane's utter disgust towards him

I'm sorry your mother didn't tell you she loved you Tim,you don't have to seek approval to every feminine presence you come in contact with

He gets high with Jeff,but do they get along outside of this?Not really,but they are okaish with each other.I would say they are buddies,not really friends

Jane gives him the creeps,it's something about her presence that doesn't allow him to insult her,that's why he decided to avoid her as much as possible

Secretly respects Natalie's strength,wishes to train with her or have a friendly battle but outside the fact that he doesn't really has the chance to,he would be too ashamed if he would lose to a woman lmao

He could overpower her but he's more impulsive while Clockwork can think before she blows a hit

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta #headcanons #y/n #tim wright #tim wright x reader #masky x reader #creepypasta masky headcanons #masky headcanons #masky creepypasta #jeff the killer #jeff the killer headcanons #creepypasta clockwork #clockwork headcanons #jane the killer #jane the killer headcanons #homicidal liu #liu headcanons #ticci toby headcanons #toby headcanons #slenderman x reader #slenderman headcanons #cody creepypasta #x virus #x virus headcanons #cody headcanons creepypasta #creepypasta mansion headcanons

[visceravalentines]

Sinclair Household HCs

My brain...it’s rotting....  

COOKING

Vincent cannot cook for shit.  Not only that, but he puts milk in his bowl before he pours in the cereal.  Unforgivable.  Vinny does like to bake, but his success rate is wildly variable.  Sometimes his cookies are weapons.  

Vinny gets so wrapped up in his work he forgets to eat for hours.  Bo will sometimes call him from the station to tell him to go upstairs and eat something. He genuinely likes fruits and vegetables, but he’s not picky and will munch just about anything.  

Bo is a survivalist cook. He spent some time parenting his brothers, particularly Lester, and Trudy liked to withhold food as punishment, so he became adept at throwing together something quick.  

Processed food is this man’s fuel.  Boxed mac & cheese, canned soup, frozen dinners.  Can toast a waffle.  Can grill a cheese.  Can make a pretty damn good sandwich.  Has been known to eat the pieces of a thing rather than assembling the thing.  

Lester is the chef! You can hand this man a dead skunk, like really dead, and he will present you with the most decadent burgoo you’ve ever had.  Also quite the connoisseur of wine.  He makes his own and it’s damn good.  

Lester has a garbage disposal stomach and appetite.  He’s never heard of food poisoning.  He’s never met a food he doesn’t like.  He’s a particular fan of gas station fare though, stopping on his route for chips, beef jerky, pork rinds, you name it.  

Spice tolerance?  Vin is the master.  Lester is Cajun through-and-through.  Bo will insist he is fine even though his face is red and he is pouring sweat.  To be fair, he’s got a tolerance above average, but he’s nothing compared to his little brothers.  

CLEANING

Lester, it’s Lester.  

The man doesn’t mind a little grime.  We’ve all seen his truck and his self.  But that’s work.  He’s got too much to do to worry about a little blood, especially when it spills as fast as he can clean it.  When it comes to his living space, having things neat and orderly is like a mental separation for him between work and home.  

Makes his bed every goddamn day (when he sleeps in a bed, that is).

Lester takes showers until the hot water runs out and revels in that squeaky clean, guts-less feeling. If you catch him outside the workweek, mans smells delicious, kind of tobacco-y and leathery and woodsy.  He does love him some chew, but he’s not gross about it.  

Unfortunately for him, his brothers are disasters.  

Vinny is the most single-minded person in the state of Louisiana.  The project in front of him is all he can see or think about.  He leaves tools everywhere.  He sets candles down, forgets about them, leaves them burning until someone blows them out before they light something on fire.  He genuinely does not see the mess (same tbh).  

His workshop looks like a bomb went off, but it all makes perfect sense to him.  He can find you anything in two seconds.  If you put it “where it goes,” he will never find it again.  

Vincent has wax lodged permanently beneath his fingernails and there’s always a microscopic film of it on his skin.  His hands are very soft from it though.  Sometimes he goes for a while without showering because art.  He also has a solid skincare routine pressed upon him by Mother Trudy.  Wax does not breathe, so he has to keep his face clean and moisturized.

The other thing he is meticulous about is his hair.  We never see it in the movie, but I like to think he keeps it pulled back a lot of the time while working.  He doesn’t mind it in his face, but getting wax out of it is a nightmare.  Lester isn’t often around to help him, and Bo told him if he ever made him do it again he’d shave his head.  Vinny smells generally like art supplies, kind of sweet and woody, but his hair smells like nice shampoo.  

Bo is the opposite of Lester.  He is neat at work and a slob at home.  His garage is always swept, every little screw and gear organized and accounted for, his truck washed once a week like clockwork.  At the house though, man’s leaving dishes in the same place for weeks, crumbs galore, dirty and clean laundry all over the floor.  

Every so often, the mess gets to him and he goes on a cleaning tirade.  It gets the work done, but he’s a nightmare to deal with if you get in his way.

Bo himself is pretty well-kept.  He wears clean underwear every day goddammit.  Despite being a mechanic, he hates having dirty nails, so he will give himself a manicure on Sundays.  Don’t you fucking dare look at him like that.  Smells like motor oil, leather, cigarettes, and that good sweat.  Only wears cologne on special occasions, like funerals.

 HOME LIFE, ESP. WEEKENDS

Bo is the one who makes runs into town for supplies.  Vincent would rather die than leave Ambrose, and Lester attracts too much attention between the smell, the slight lack of social skills, and his tendency to describe the innards of animals at the slightest provocation.  Bo attracts his own kind of attention, but he’s adept at deflecting it.  

Lester doesn’t often sleep at the house.  He has a bedroom, but he also has a neat little shack in the woods, and that’s where he spends most of the week.  It’s not that he doesn’t love his brothers; it’s that he likes his space, his freedom.

He comes home on the weekends, sometimes early on Fridays.  This is when most of the housekeeping gets done, but he doesn’t mind a bit.  

Friday night is boys’ night. Isn’t every night boys’ night? Yes.  Does this matter?  No.  

All three of them are wicked good at pool.  Like, stupid good.  Games between the brothers are either over fast, or last an hour.  There’s also a fair bit of poker.  The currency at stake takes the form of small bones (animal, human, whatever), nuts from the garage, matches, or loser shots.

Speaking of which, the Sinclairs can hold their booze.  In addition to his wine endeavors, Lester makes some facefucking moonshine and rotgut whisky.  The night usually starts with cheap beer and ends with Bo talking REALLY LOUD, LIKE SO LOUD. HE’S NOT YELLING, HE’S JUST LIKE THIS.

Vincent gets everyone water and stops drinking hours before the other two because he’s smart, although he can absolutely drink you under the table if given the chance.  Lester gets loopy and ends up falling asleep in uncomfortable positions.  

Bo doesn’t typically get belligerent, but it is a possibility.  He usually gets uncharacteristically sentimental.  He smiles a lot more.  Sometimes he gets real quiet.  When this happens, his brothers put on music or start telling stories about happy memories to keep him out of the dark places in his head.  

Saturday mornings are often bleak and silent affairs.  

In a longtime tradition, Saturdays are spent on yardwork.  There are a lot of yards in Ambrose, lots of planter boxes, and they all need to be kept presentable.  Picture all three Sinclairs mowing lawns with or without white t-shirts.  Yeah.  

Sunday is for putting the house back into a reasonable state of affairs.  The amount of laundry these men generate is abominable.  No one likes dusting, hence all the cobwebs.  

Attendance at Sunday dinners is non-negotiable.  Shirts tucked in, all three of them.  Bo and Vincent will often help Lester cook.  This is not, in fact, helpful.  None of the brothers are particularly religious anymore, but they alternate saying grace before they eat.  

When Monday morning comes, Bo always has coffee made before Lester leaves at the ass crack of dawn. It happens to be decent.  Lester takes a thermos for the road, Bo has a cup before he leaves the house, and he brings Vinny an insulated cup in his workshop, so that even when he forgets it’s there, it’s warm for him when he remembers.

#god i just #i just love them all so much #take me to ambrose #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #house of wax #house of wax fanfiction #bo sinclair fanfiction #vincent sinclair fanfiction #lester sinclair fanfiction #house of wax headcanon #bo sinclair headcanons #vincent sinclair headcanons #lester sinclair headcanons #my writing #slasher headcanons

[trashyswitch]

Don't Touch Mario's Love Letters

Mario has been writing love letters to Peach in secret, and Luigi quickly finds out about it. Though Mario doesn't always take kindly to teases from his younger brother.

This fanfic was for @elitadream. Here's the link for the fanart this was inspired by.

Though I know you're not part of the community...Come on! They're brothers! So you KNOW they get up to these kinds of things! But despite that, I have huge respect for you, and I salute your drawing abilities. So, I hope you enjoy!

Luigi was cleaning up the boys’ desk and throwing out the garbage bin under the desk. When he had gotten back in the room with the garbage can, he placed it under the desk and sat down at the desk. The last person that had used the desk was Mario. And Mario often loved to cover the desk in papers before writing in his notebook. Why he liked doing this, who knows…he’s always been like that. 

Either way, if Luigi wanted to ever use the desk for anything at all, he always had to clean up Mario’s stuff. Because the man just loves making a mess and not cleaning it up after. He’s been that way since childhood. And Luigi was long used to it. Luigi closed the top of his red notebook and read the front: [Name: Mario] 

[Subject: Writing] 

Luigi smiled and picked it up, before putting it into the desk drawer. But when he picked up the stacks of paper from the desk, a couple papers had fallen out of the stack and onto the desk, before sliding off the desk and flowing back and forth down to the floor. He was about to pick them up and put them back into the stack, but…He paused when he noticed Peach’s cursive writing on the letter from where he was: 

{Dear Mario; 

How has your week been? I hope it wasn’t too busy. You work so hard…you deserve the rest. Are the citizens of Brooklyn treating you and Luigi well? How is your family? Are they also well?} 

Luigi raised his eyebrow. He picked it up and flipped it to the back to read it a little more. 

{Duties resume like clockwork at the castle. The toads made me some simmered fruit for lunch, which really hit the spot. I also got to pick some flowers and replaced the flowers on the table. The first bouquet was dying, which was making me feel down. Wilting flowers make me sad.}

Luigi chuckled and put the letter back in the stack. Then, he picked up the second paper: [Dear Peach; My week’s been a little busy, but not bad so far. The people of Brooklyn are always great to us, but I am very thankful for the rest. And my family’s doing well too. Mama’s just as sweet as ever. So, I was thinking…Maybe we can spend some time together this weekend! Do you have any recommendations for pretty places to go? And do you prefer indoor or outdoor activities the best?]

Oh…My…god…Is Mario seriously considering taking her out on a date?! THIS I have to see. Luigi put the rest of the stack back into the drawer before leaving the room with the letter in his hand. He walked himself up to Mario, holding out the letter. “Hey Mario…” Luigi called, dangling it like the teasy brother he is. 

Mario turned around to look at him. “Hm?” He hummed. 

“What’s this ya got here?” Luigi asked. 

Mario walked a bit closer to see the writing on it. But when he saw the red pen, Mario screeched and attempted to snatch it from his brother. “Where did you-” Mario saw his hand was empty, and the paper was still in his hand. “Give it-” Mario reached up, only for the paper to go another inch higher. “Give it back!” Mario ordered, reaching up. “Recommendations for pretty spots, huh?” Luigi teased. 

Mario grunted and reached up for the letter again, showing a bit more anger on his face as he failed to reach it. “Luigi-” Mario muttered.  “You wouldn’t happen to be setting up a little date with the princess, would you?” Luigi asked, being a nosey little pest. 

“Give it back! Right now!” Mario ordered. 

“What kind of date ideas were you gonna propose to her?” Luigi asked, purposefully flipping the letter back and forth in front of him to entice his brother. 

“None…” He looked at Luigi. “-of your business.” Mario spat back, poking his chest.

“Come oooon, Mario.” Luigi pulled it back up as Mario jumped up to grab it, but to no avail. “Tell me! I wanna know!” Luigi said. 

Mario finally stopped reaching up for the letter, and crossed his arms, clearly pissed. “This is my last warning.” Mario muttered. 

Luigi chuckled. “Or what? What are you gonna do, shorty?” Luigi teased, acting like he had the upper hand. But Luigi wasn’t gonna have the upper hand for much longer. Because Mario reached his hand up one more time, causing Luigi to lift it up higher. But the moment Luigi did that, Mario tickled his brother’s armpit. “Oh nothing…Just this.” Mario replied, poking his armpit a little harder. 

Luigi squeaked and pushed Mario away with his hand, trying his best to keep his other hand up despite being tickled into bringing it down. “WaHAIT! Mahario!” Luigi backed himself up. “Thahat’s cheating!” Luigi told him, his voice going super high-pitched.

“And you’ve made this an unfair game! Meaning tickles are now allowed.” Mario told him. 

Luigi hopped onto the bed to get away from him. “AHA!” He declared, pointing at him. “Try and get me now, Mario!” Luigi taunted him. 

Mario clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a smile. “You just made things so much worse for yourself.” Mario added as he walked up to the right side of the bed. 

“No I didn’t. What are you talking about?” Luigi asked with genuine confusion as he kept an eye on his brother. Mario brought his finger up to the back of the knee. Luigi raised an eyebrow. “What are you-”

He poked it only once. 

“gaaAAH!” Luigi shouted, snapping his head forward. Oh no… Mario started scratching the knee pit with a big smirk on his face. “Did you forget about this ticklish spot, Lu?” Mario asked. 

Luigi quickly felt the smile fill his face as he hung his head. “MAHARIO DOHOHON’T!” Luigi shouted, bringing up his right knee to cover it up. Now, Luigi knew how to laugh and not lower his arm while being tickled in the armpit. He’d gained enough practice doing that during tickle fights with Mario. But the knee pit was a newer tickle spot entirely, that had been found out completely by accident! And…He didn’t have nearly enough experience covering up his kneepits very well without falling. “COHOHOME OHOHON- IHIHI’M GOHONNA FAHAHAHALL!” He reacted. 

“Oh, I know. That’s what I want.” Mario told him. 

“YOHOHOU SUHUHUHUHUCK!”  Luigi shouted at him. 

“Oh? I suck now?” Mario asked. “Says the one that stole my letter and refuses to give it back.” Mario told him. 

“IHIHI WAHAHAS JUHUHUST-” Luigi felt his knees buckle as he fell onto his back against the bed. “NAhahahaha- Nohohohoho!” Luigi whined, pulling himself into the fetal position as the phantom tickles on his knees continued to plague him. 

Mario jumped up onto the bed and onto Luigi, before pulling on the letter. “Let go, Luigi!” Mario ordered. 

“Neheheveher! Ihihi wahant ahahanswehehers!” Luigi complained, gripping the letter a bit tighter.

“And you won’t get any answers unless you let go!” Mario added, letting go of the letter before tickling his belly and sides. “So let go!” 

Luigi squeaked and threw his head back, laughing and tightening his grip on the letter while extending his legs. “IHIHI DOHOHON’T TRUHUST YOHOHOU!” Luigi argued. 

“Then keep acting like that. See if I care.” Mario said, smirking as he moved his finger to his belly button. “Besides, I’m rather enjoying tickling you.” Mario added. 

Despite laughing and wiggling around, Luigi wouldn’t let go of the letter. In fact, the tickling seemed to only tighten his grip on the letter. 

And Mario quickly noticed this. “Damn…you can’t go down without a fight, can you?” Mario asked. 

Luigi was cackling and shaking his head. “DOHOHOHO YOHOHOUR WOHOHOHORST!” Luigi shouted. 

Mario shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.” Mario took in a big breath and blew a raspberry on his brother’s belly. 

Luigi screamed and laughed rather hysterically, unable to control how outlandish his laugh was by this point. 

Mario smiled. While Mario did enjoy making Luigi laugh like this, he kinda had a mission right now. So, he tried to focus by tickling Luigi’s lower ribs. “Are you really that stubborn to find out the truth behind that letter?” Mario asked with a smirk. 

“YEHEHEHESS!” Luigi replied.

“But why?! You already guessed everything right!” Mario replied, stopping his tickles for a moment. 

Luigi let out a few breaths of relief and looked at Mario. “But…” He looked up at Mario, almost with a look of desperation. “But I had questions!” He reacted. “What kind of date were you gonna come up with?” Luigi asked. 

Mario shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. That’s why I was going to ask her for ideas for-” “Pretty spots to go?” Luigi teased.

“Pretty pla-...Oh…Well, Ye…Yeah.” Mario muttered, blushing. Luigi actually read the intro?! God, this was more embarrassing than he thought… “Truth was…I was gonna try and fix that intro to make it more subtle.” Mario admitted. 

Luigi chuckled. “Yeah…It’s a little ‘on the nose’.” Luigi added. 

Mario rolled his eyes. “Don’t criticize my letter-writing skills.” Mario told him. 

Luigi chuckled as he got up onto his feet. “Alright.” He offered Mario the letter. “I’m guessing you wanna finish it now?” He asked. 

“Yes, I would like to.” Mario reached up to grab the letter, but widened his eyes when he saw Luigi pull it back. “Wha-” 

“Now before I give this to you…” Luigi started. 

Mario sighed and crossed his arms, tapping his foot. “Yes?” 

Luigi smiled innocently. “I must ask: How long have you had a crush on Peach?” Luigi asked him. 

Mario groaned. “I don’t need to tell you that.” Mario complained. 

“Excuse me-” Luigi placed his hand on his chest, showing mock offense. “We are twins! We ALWAYS tell each other our secrets!” Luigi reacted. 

“And you already know what you need to know! Now give me the letter!” Mario ordered. 

Luigi chuckled. “Fine, fine.” He offered Mario the letter again. But right when Mario reached out for it again, Luigi pulled it back. “Oh! I forgot-” Mario wrapped his right arm around Luigi in a chokehold, pulling him down and making Luigi double over so Mario could reach. “Drop it! Or else.” Mario said with an evil smirk on his face. 

“Ow! Okay, okay here!” Luigi let it go, dropping it to the ground. “Mamma mia, you’re strong.” Luigi muttered as he felt Mario’s arm loosen off his neck. 

“Thank you.” Mario picked it up and walked back to the bedroom. 

“...So that’s it?!” Luigi asked. 

“Were you expecting more?” Mario asked, turning around. “Well…I was hoping for a thank you for cleaning up the desk.” Luigi admitted. 

“Wha-” Mario looked in the room, and groaned. “Why did you clean up my stuff?!” Mario looked at him. “I was gonna go back to it!” Mario yelled. 

“Because I wanted to use it! And you never clean up after yourself!” Luigi replied. 

Mario chuckled. “Fine…I’ll make sure the desk is clear when you wanna use it. But in return…” Mario’s head popped out from behind the bedroom door. “You need to promise to not be a nosy-pants and leave my stuff alone.” Mario told him. 

Luigi nodded. “Alright.” Luigi smirked a bit. “So if you don’t want me touching your stuff, does that mean you’ll start cleaning the entire desk yourself?” Luigi asked. 

Mario rolled his eyes. “If it’ll help resist your urge to read my stuff, then maybe.” Mario replied. 

“Oh! Speaking of reading your stuff…” Luigi started. “Peach has some nice cursive, I gotta say.” Luigi added. Mario widened his eyes and blushed slightly. “Yeah…She does. She’s a princess.” Mario added. 

Luigi laughed. “I guess that’s true.” He replied. “But I find it funny that you both prefer to use colored pens to write your letters.” Luigi teased. “Whatever happened to you just using purple or black pens?!” Luigi teased. 

Mario growled. “Shut up.” Mario muttered. 

Luigi thought for a moment. Mario had always used black pens…this had been the first time Luigi had written with a red pen. Wait…Was he writing in red pen for just his letters?! 

Luigi quickly smirked as he connected the dots. Once he did, he walked up to the door. He knocked on it and patiently waited for the door to open. When it opened, Mario was standing at the door, looking completely done with Luigi. “Yes?” 

“Do you write all your letters with a red pen?” Luigi asked. “Yeah, why?” Mario asked. 

Luigi’s smile widened. “Then are you writing your letters with a red pen on purpose so she’ll think you’re cute?” Luigi asked with an innocent smile. 

Mario widened his eyes and stuttered for only a moment…before rolling his eyes and slamming the door on Luigi. But this only made the taller one double over and cackle at him. “YOHOHOU’RE SUCH A DORK!” Luigi laughed, turning away so his back was facing the door and walking away.  

The door opened again. “VAFFANCULO!” Mario shouted before slamming the door again, making Luigi’s laughter go up another octave. 

Luigi eventually turned around and walked to the kitchen as he started to calm down. All the teasing, tickles and establishing Mario’s dorky nature…had made him very hungry. So, he heated up some leftovers while he let Mario be. 

The funny part was, he’s lucky that he can tease Mario all he wants…because he’s one of the only people who can tease him and get away with it without even a punch in the face. If he was literally anyone else, you would get destroyed by the small, but mighty man. But…Luigi is his twin brother, which earned him the opportunity to tease him without even a finger laid on him. 

Luigi swallowed and blushed a bit. Well…that’s not entirely true…The man did tickle him to get him to the ground and then chokehold him to get the letter back…But that’s just brotherly revenge for you. 

#funny #embarrassed mario #teasing #teasy luigi #brotherly love #silly #banter #ticklefic #ler!mario #lee!luigi #house cleaning #family fluff #tooth rotting fluff

[qierxing]

Congrats on 500!!! I’m surprised all the slots weren’t immediately filled! How about Trey with “You wouldn’t be in this mess if you had just listened to me”? (Also I saw that the Succubus/Incubus Cater and Trey fic has a part two title already and I am 👀👀👀👀 looking /very/ hard)

Bestie ❤ when i tell you i have the treycater brainrot i do not lie. You do not know how many treycater x reader wips are in my arsenal. if i do not make the series the horniest i will have failed. please talk to me about treycater my brain will explode

It's more annoying to hear it from him than anyone else.

"I know! I know!!!" You whine, burying your face in your hands. "I don't need you to say it!"

You can hear him sigh to your side.

"Well, now what? It's not like you can conjure up a boyfriend out of nowhere…"

There's a pause; and in it, you can feel both of your minds click like clockwork.

"[First]–"

"You think Cater could pretend to be my boyfriend?" Trey's face is one of someone who has swallowed a lemon. If you weren't desperate, you would've laughed heartily at it.

"If you're fine with being used for clout."

"Oh great Queen of Hearts, no." You slam your head down onto the granite counter. That's gonna leave a mark, but that's definitely not your biggest problem right now.

"You know, maybe you could always come clean to your parents? It would save you the stress." Trey offers unhelpfully. You roll your eyes.

"And have them resume nagging me that no one even wants to date me? No thanks."

He brings your head up gently while inspecting your forehead to make sure no lasting damage was done. He clicks his tongue as he rubs at the bruise forming above your brow, making you wince.

"If you're so deadset on doing an act, maybe you should stick with someone safer?" You snort.

"And what the hell does that mean?" You ask sarcastically. "You want me to go to Rosehearts and grovel before his Royal Highness?"

"Come on. Surely you know someone who can fit the bill?"

You're struck silent at the way he purposefully meets your eyes. Suddenly the way he holds your face doesn't feel like the familial warmth you've always attributed to his hands.

"P-perhaps Deuce then." You laugh nervously, leaning back out. "He's not such a bad guy, and he's quite earnest."

Your wrist is gripped tightly and you yelp as Trey tugs you back.

"[First], would it be so bad if I was your boyfriend?" You swallow and look away.

No, it wouldn't be. In fact, you're sure he was everybody's dream boyfriend back in middle school. But that was middle school, and you were not part of those masses who were hoping to hook up with Trey.

"I…" You close your mouth and look away from his steady gaze. "...sorry, it's just that you're more like a brother to me."

You don't see how his face turns terrifyingly blank. There's another long pause.

"Well, wouldn't that make it more convincing?" You watch as Trey presses a chaste kiss on your hand. "It won't be too hard to convince your parents."

It wouldn't be. You two have been good friends for a long time. 

But why is it that he's acting as if he's actually your boyfriend going to meet your parents?

"I guess…" You slowly reply. Trey's face lightens, and you watch with uncertainty as he continues to massage your bruise.

"Then there shouldn't be any problem."

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #asks #anon #my works #1 more night until i get off this damn boat

[danny-and-hisshadow]

Bad decisions lead to worse consequences

)no phantom planet, though small aspects from it are used()jazz left for college early(vlad has a hand in that,)Sam was shipped off to boarding school(blame vlad) , Tucker's family moved to Egypt (also vlad)(

Danny's running ragged trying to keep ghosts from destroying amity , his parents are worried,the school is giving up on him, vlad has been cranking the pressure on him, and now he finds out he is going to be the next ghost king.

All the stress and sleepless nights aren't helping Danny figure out what to do, without a support system his friends and sister gave him he feels like the walls are closing in on him. He wants to tell his parents his secrets only to once more overhear them talking of destroying phantom again. He looks at the letter in his hands requesting a meeting at the nasty burger and shivers, anxiousness eating at him, his breath mistings as a ghost lurks around his home, likely a spy from vlad, he also has a scroll from a observant of all things ,who was clearly unhappy to tell Danny he would be the ghost king. All thos pressure had Danny nearly yanking his hair out,he wanted to scream,shout, destroy something,but he couldn't.

He paced his room wishing he had tucker and sam to help him, even jazz,but he was alone. At home and at school he had no one, he was at the bottom of the pecking order, practically a pariah. Lancer always looked so disappointed now a days. As did his parents,'no Fenton gets an f indeed'.

Danny felt like he was losing his mind. He (silently, mentally) wished he could be in two different places so he could divide his responsibilities. It wasn't like he could ask clockwork for help, well he could,but he had a feeling it would not help.

He trudged down to his parents lab to start on his chores, cleaning up spills and fiddling with weapons so they wouldn't be able to hurt him,when he came across a familiar invention, the Fenton ghost catcher. He stared at it groggily, vaguely remembering the last time he had used it. Danny continued cleaning as he considered the invention, remembering the events that lead to super phantom and fun Danny. The franticness of trying to merge back together after splitting powers between them before finding out about a switch on the ghost catcher. Then he remembers enjoying the beautiful sunset with tucker and Sam before his parents got the house moved back to where it belonged.

After finishing up his chores he collapsed in a swivel chair as he debated on what he should do. Should be really split himself into two again? The more he considered everything he had going one,the lack of help,and deadlines,and how exhausted he was , the more it sounded like a good idea. He also briefly considered what would happen if his ghost side was evil, but decided he would focus on putting as much good into phantom as possible,last thing anyone wanted was another evil king. With that he jumped through the ghost catcher.

Phantom floated in the air as Fenton smacked face first into the ground and groaned. Danny picked himself up,"you could have caught me", he grumbled. Phantom cringed,"sorry, I had a lot on my mind", he was mentally checking to see if he was evil like the original Danny worried about, though he really didn't feel evil,and how would one go about discovering you were evil or not? All he felt was just stressed out about becoming the new ghost king and leaving the earth ,his home, his family behind.

Fenton sat on the swivel chair again, crossing his arms to hug himself. "Well, maybe you can order the ghosts to not bother Amity park, king phantom", He had a meeting with lancer and his parents tomorrow, he was busy thinking about how was he going to get out of this mess of trouble he was in.

Danny Fenton was probably going to be doing a lot of groveling. Also, the nasty burger was a terrible place to have a meeting, unless lancer was using the place as a way of saying that Danny's future prospects for jobs were all fast food restaurants. Which rude, and cruel.

Danny phantom, still waiting to see if he felt evil or not, nodded, unaware of Fenton's inner thoughts, and missing the jab out his new title," that's a good idea, I could make it a order to avoid the human world, so mom and dad don't get their hands on any ghosts, it protects them,the ghosts,and the town, win win", he said with a grin. Phantom thought a moment,"are you going to be ok? The guys in white might target you".

Fenton shrugged,"well,we are divided now, I'm human, they don't target humans", thinking quickly,Fenton grabbed the ghost gabber and turned it on," I am Danny Fenton, I am not a ghost", he stated. The gabber reader antenna whirled around wildly before stated," no ghost detected".

Phantom tried next,"I am Danny phantom,I am a ghost", the gabber's antenna once again whirled,this time pointing at phantom and stated,"ghost detected! Translating, I am Danny phantom,I am a ghost, fear me! ".

They laughed as Fenton turned off the gabber so he could put it back were it belonged. Once they caught their breath,they wondered why they thought that was funny to begin with.

#danny phantom #my wriitng #danny phantom au #danny fenton #bad decisions lead to worse consequences

[jaskiers-lutkulele-of-sex]

Prompt idea: (cw scat) Eddie's always eating junk food so his stomach gets messed up on a regular basis. He starts hanging out with Steve more often, getting invited to movie nights with only the two of them. Steve just likes having a guy his age who's cool to hang out with, he's only just realizing he has a crush.

Eddie's stomach starts acting up during the movies but Eddie doesn't want to destroy the perfect pristine Harrington bathroom, he's too embarrassed to do that and too stubborn to leave before the movie finishes and make a mad dash to the nearest gas station and let loose. So he sits there on the couch, squirming and uncomfortable and doing his best to hide it, or mask it as a reaction to whatever is happening on the movie.

Steve of course notices Eddie squirming on the couch next to him. The first couple of times, he asks if Eddie needs to pee, but Eddie always says no, laughs with a little strained breath, says he's just really excited about the movie. Of course, Steve eventually realizes what it is, feels bad that Eddie doesn't feel comfortable in his home, offers again that Eddie can use the bathroom for whatever he needs, but Eddie keeps brushing it off, that he's fine.

It becomes a regular thing. Always about halfway into the movie, Steve will feel Eddie start to squirm, crossing and uncrossing his legs. Steve starts to expect it, starts to anticipate it actually, to the point where it's not even about watching the movie anymore, the night is about waiting for Eddie's squirming to start, seeing how Eddie makes it to the end of the film every time and then does an awkward little walk to the door.

Steve starts to get obsessed with it. Seeing the sweat form on Eddie's brow and nose, feeling every little shake and jitter of Eddie's body, hearing the little strained noises Eddie makes every once in a while. Steve's confused and feels guilty when he realizes it's a turn-on for him, and he has to hold a pillow in his lap once Eddie's squirming starts, even subtly ruts against it sometimes, almost comes once when Eddie's stomach makes a loud rumble and he clutches it with a pained desperate little groan.

Maybe once, he does just come right there from all of Eddie's squirming and noises, and that's how they discover it's a thing for them both, because Eddie's obviously noticed that it's a turn-on for Steve, been teasing him the whole time. Then Steve gets to tease him back.

same anon from before btw loved your fic so much - 🎱

first, thanks! i very well may "clean up" that other post and stick it on AO3-- it sort of grew legs, shouldn't be too hard to expand into a full-er fic.

-

this is A+++ excellent. I am always here, first and foremost, for the desperation, and this is d r i p p i n g with that potential.

also, eddie, your whole heart is showing, man. how much must you like this dude to be willing to put yourself through this all the time?? XD <3

Also also, what must the poor gas station attendants think, this one young rocker guy showing up, like clockwork, absolutely bursting, frantic for the bathroom key. like, if ever Eddie doesn't make it, makes it out of the Harrington House but then looses it while driving, or, god, maybe even before... and just goes straight home for the cleanup since it's too late... like, gas station person is DEFINITELY gonna know, gonna guess, when Eddie doesn't show up. XD (lol that actually make me think about Steve working the retail job at the place Eddie regularly stops into when desperate...)

Maybe Steve resists jerking off about it for a while, feels guilty getting off on his friend's discomfort, esp if he's still got shit to work through re: his sexuality... like, it creeps in around the edges sometimes, thoughts of Eddie, but he mostly successfully keeps it packed away, doesn't look too hard at why he's always so Goddamn horny after Eddie leaves... and anyway, who's in complete control of what they think of on the verge of orgasm anyway...

But then there's the night where Eddie doesn't even pretend to be casual as he gets up to leave the second the movie is done, and Steve lets him go, of course, not even really worried about whether Eddie can tell if he's hard because Eddie is clearly so absorbed in what his body's doing...

and Steve Watches, not quite closing the door, as Eddie immediately drops his mask of being fine, and stiffly makes his way down the front steps and drive to his van. Eddie pulls up his key, and opens the door, but freezes as he starts climb in. Steve watches as eddie clutches his abdomen with one hand, and grips his door for all he's worth with the other... and then bends his knees a little and Very Obviously just loses it, right there in Steve's drive.

Steve doesn't know if he should go out there, offer to help Eddie clean up? but 1. Eddie clearly didn't want to shit at Steve's house, badly enough where this was the better option, which makes Steve feel pretty terrible... and 2. Steve's so hard he's not sure he could even string a sentence together, let alone wade through whatever ocean of crap (ha) eddie's got going on in his head.

After a long moment of Steve, torn, trying not to, like, hump his fucking doorjamb and Eddie shitting his goddamn brains out in Steve's drive, Eddie finally finishes, or gets to a pause point or something, and with a furtive glance that makes Steve glad he'd mostly closed the door, Eddie goes around to the back of his van, walk making it pretty obvious what just happened, and comes back with a towel. He more or less pours himself into the driver's seat, very obviously wincing, and drives off.

Steve closes the door the rest of the way, makes it about three steps, and then gives up and shoves his hand down his pants and comes in about two seconds, right there in the hall.

Well fuck.

-

Eddie stays away for a week, after that, fucking Mortified, even if he doesn't think Steve saw. Happily, his Uncle was already at work, and his mess mostly remained contained for the drive back, but he was so worried it still smelled he practically offed himself (and dustin, when he drove him one day) with little scented trees (and he'd gotten such a knowing look from the dude working the register at the gas station that he's wondering if he should start frequenting another one).

But then there's steve with his big brown eyes and hopeful face and the movie he's got just came out, eddie, i snagged it for us before we shelved it and Eddie's coward days are behind him, so, like, he's gotta go.

And, inevitably, halfway through the movie... He's gotta go.

what the fuck is his life, that this keeps happening? He's tried not eating for a while before, but that just makes him a hangry asshole, which isn't fun for either of them, and he's tried eating just immediately before, or with steve, but his guts still get fucked.

He was stopping at the gas station to shit before getting to steve's for a while, but it never hits until later, so he just sat there like an idiot twiddling his thumbs...

He preemptively took immodium once, and it stopped him up for like a fucking week and then he tried to undo it with laxatives and that was a fucking mistake.

evidently it's just his lot n life to only hang with Steve while also trying not to ruin Steve's pristine couch in his pristine living room next to his unbelievably fucking pristine bathroom.

Eddie shifts uncomfortably and waits for the predictable you good, man? wanna pause?

Steve has obviously long-since figured out that Eddie usually needs a bathroom, but is a freak about it, and Eddie has weighed up the pros and cons.

He's clean and polite and has class and will not bomb the harrington's fancy fucking powder room or whatever. if he... if he has to explode first, he's not gonna do it.

if he has to shit his fucking pants in the driveway.

Eddie has a solid reputation as a freak. Suggestions that he was a kinky motherfucker were common in school.

Maybe Steve will just, what, start to think he has a fetish? and stop fucking asking.

Eddie waits for the offer of a bathroom...

but steve doesn't offer.

A wave of cramping hits Eddie, and his breathing speeds up, and he squirms a little to keep control.

But Steve doesn't say anything, even though eddie can fucking feel eyes on him.

instead, out of the corner of his eye, Eddie notices Steve squirming.

Does he also need to use the bathroom?

But then, a few moments later, Steve reaches over for a throw pillow... and sets it on his lap.

Eddie has not been on a lot of dates around throw pillows... but... there's only one reason he can think of to make a move like that. right?

maybe not. Maybe harrington's arms were just tired or- oh fuck-

Eddie's hit by the next wave, and fuck it's a lot of pressure. he feels himself break out into a sweat as his guts twist and he holds himself rigidly still, trying not to let it show on his face.

and he sees harrington squirm too, and... and press down with his hand, and up with his hips.

Is Steve humping the pillow?

... fuck, does steve have a fetish?

Eddie's stomach makes a horrible growl with the next wave, and he lets out a little involuntary gasp.

and steve's hips give an aborted jerk next to him.

.

when the movie ends, Eddie is exceedingly desperate, but also curious, so he does his best to hang around.

He doesn't get up, and Steve doesn't get up, or move the pillow, until finally something has to give (before Eddie's sphincter).

Eddie awkwardly gestures at his water glass and oh-so-carefully gets up, and heads for the kitchen. As he leaves the room, he tilts his head a little, so his hair falls forward, shielding his face, and he peeks back in time to see Steve stand up and shove his hand down his pants, in the most clear and classic example of Adjusting oneself Eddie has ever seen.

Once they're both in the kitchen, steve's shirt falls low enough to obscure his groin, so Eddie, desperate to know (and desperate for a few other things)... intentionally drops his glass on the mat, hoping for the best.

"oh fuck," he says, as it rolls off, and he moves to follow.

"let me get you a new one, " steve replies.

Eddie crouches down to retrieve his glass, and immediately has to sit on his heel fuck fuck bad idea... but when he looks over, there steve is, stretching up, shirt lifting, and fully hard dick on display through his pants, clearly having been tugged up, to snug under his waistband, out of the way.

fuck.

-

Eddie does not shit himself, crouched there on the harrington's kitchen floor.

instead, he plays it like he notices his lace was undone, until he's got control back, stands up, and invents a reason he's got to get home.

he makes it to the van, but he knows it's gonna come out the second he stands up again, so he doesn't even stop at the gas station, doesn't even try, just heads straight for their trailer and, yeah, absolutely starts filling his shorts as he climbs out, and lets himself in.

acceptable loss, for finding out about harrington.

now what the fuck is he going to do about it.

#steddie kink fic #scat desperation #asks #prompts #i'm totes down for more #but this was getting a bit unweildly for a tumblr draft #excellent ideas tho anon #please feel free to kick more my way #fuck yeah

[ariadynamics]

It's WIP Wednesday, besties, and guess who said, "fuck my moratorium on starting a new WIP; I do what I want," like an idiot?

Anyway, here's a little of a Maxiel a/b/o fic.

---

It isn’t supposed to happen for another two weeks. By now, Max had a handle on his heats, and they basically hit him like clockwork. It’s on his Calendar app–in bright pink because Daniel is an asshole–set for the second weekend in August when he’ll be safe in his nest in Monaco.

With Daniel, of course. That had been the plan.

Max wants to say it’s possible he’s wrong about his heat, but the tell-tale signs are all there. He feels hot and clammy, even after the shower he just took, and the low-grade chills he’s been feeling all morning are starting to prickle at his skin. He’s on a timer; Max has six hours, maybe eight, if he’s lucky, before the full effect of his heat blooms into an unstoppable thunder.

Sorry, mate, you’ll need to take the team plane, Max texts Lando. 

He should have arranged everything yesterday when the first signs of his heat appeared. Max had been hopeful–in denial, more like–that the symptoms he was feeling were from allergies or a mild cold. 

He feels sticky everywhere, and Max is fairly certain it’s not from the champagne shower he had on the podium. Max had been able to wash away all of the champagne from his skin; he can’t say the same about the sweat and slick sticking to him like glue. 

His phone pings loudly on the small side table beside him. 

Lando: All good. Text Daniel.

It’s embarrassing that the mere mention of Daniel’s name is enough for him to slick up even more. Max swallows, slumping against the sofa as he grips his phone harder. He should tell Daniel.

Daniel had been so excited about flying straight to Los Angeles after Budapest, though. “Just a week or so. I’ll be in Monaco when you get back, Maxy,” Daniel had said. He hadn’t said anything about Max’s heat, but it was implied, and that was enough for Max.

It’s clear to anyone who knows Daniel how much he needs the clean air that comes with being away from the track. From being away from it all. It’s why Max had planned his summer heat perfectly so Daniel would have time to rest and regroup away from Max first.

Max doesn’t know where he messed up but of course. Of course, he’d messed up.

Maybe he can ride his heat out by himself. It’s not like it would be a first for him. Max had spent most of his heats alone when he was younger. It hadn’t been the best, and Max always came out of them feeling lost and adrift and unwanted. It’s probably going to be fine; feeling lost and adrift and unwanted are practically core building blocks of his makeup. He can deal.

He plans it out in his head. His assistant already knows. Max is certain she’s already booked flights for his family; he’s glad he doesn’t have to see his father’s face when Vicky tells them about his heat.

Not that she would be so crass–her discretion is one of the things Max likes most about her. She’d couch it in something more palatable, but his father will see through it all, anyway. 

Max is waiting for the final all-clear from the team, and then it’s a short ride to the airport. He can make it. Vicky had already arranged for a beta driver, and she’ll make sure the flight attendants stay clear of him once they’re in the air. Max prefers to fly alone if he can, but if he’s not going to have Daniel with him, Vicky will ensure he gets home safely.

His phone vibrates in his hands several times, in quick succession.

Daniel: why is Lando flying with the team?

Daniel: wait, you’re in heat?

Daniel: are you okay?

Daniel: give me two minutes. I’ll meet you at the airport.

He lets out a frustrated groan. This is the last thing Max wants. He doesn’t want Daniel to have to rearrange his life like this. And for what? For Max’s heat? He calls Daniel immediately–call, not Facetime–Max doesn’t know if he can handle seeing Daniel’s face, not right now, and not be with him.

“Daniel, it’s fine,” Max says as soon as Daniel picks up. “Of course, it would be nice to spend my heat with you, but I’ll be fine.”

There’s a pause before Daniel speaks. “Are you planning on spending it with anyone else?” He doesn’t sound angry, but Max can’t dial in on his tone.

“Of course not.” It’s been years since Max had spent his heat with anyone else. “But heat aids exist, and I still have some at home.”

#wip wednesday #fic snippets #maxiel #a/b/o

[shikadainara]

for the record! if you want my go-to bullet point list on explaining shikatema from temari’s perspective (why she cares about/likes him in the first place) here you go, feel free to steal it for whatever purposes you desire

shikamaru is completely unlike anyone she’s ever met before. think about her position in life as the yondaime kazekage’s daughter in a struggling suna, how much of her fierce personality is essentially the way she was forced to grow up. then she meets someone who 1) is seemingly zoning out in the middle of a fight 2) outsmarts her. y’know, when she’s incredibly prideful of her prowess of being a tactician 3) on top of that, gives up the match and shrugs it off like he doesn’t care in the slightest. this is so drastic that it essentially COMPLETELY flips her world’s perspective on its head in one fell swoop. (during the retrieval arc, it is hidden under the world’s biggest ego, but “you look dumber than last time” is literally admitting that he showed her up and that she’s still pissed about it lmfao)

shikamaru is still completely unlike anyone else in her life. temari is a warrior, she’s someone of status, she’s someone bound to following her father’s word and then cleaning up the mess he left behind after his passing... shikamaru is someone who greets her at konoha’s gates (always, without fail) with his hands shoved in his pockets and a familiar “oh, hey.” he just sees her for who she really is, and she does the same in turn. she knows that he’s actually an incredibly dependable guy, both in terms of their work in inter-village relationships and on the battlefield. she actually looks forward to getting to work with him. hell, she even enjoys their bickering like clockwork. it’s so easygoing, and that’s... just not a relationship she has with anyone else.

shikamaru is a crybaby, but she wouldn’t have him any other way. it’s ironic. it’s the very thing she made fun of him for, but in the end? it’s what she finds the most endearing. he’s someone who wears his heart on his sleeve and blames himself and openly sobs, and shinobi aren’t supposed to do that. but she wants to understand. and then when she thinks about what she wants the world to be...!

she just has bad taste in men. ❤️

#i had this kicking around in my head for months on repeat idk why i never wrote it down #so i'm maybe not remembering my exact wording i had thought of but hopefully this is good enough #shikatema #disclaimer: This Post Contains Inferences but! oh you know :) #clarification on point three: She Literally Says In The Manga That He Could Be Hokage (ie the leader of the most influential nation.) #this ended up being more ramble-y than to the point ummm Sorry heart emoji

[justahopelessaromantic]

I can't breathe, please don't say you love me (A Poem)

Fandom: Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony and Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair AU: Medieval/Fantasy AU Ships: One-sided Tojouma (Kokichi/Kirumi) Accompanying Playlist for this Fic on Spotify and Youtube Summary: Your king has always been one to clean up after himself. At least, he has since you've been here. Normally he'd do his best to pick up the pulsating appendage and lock it back away in his chest, wiping up as much oozing red as he could. He'd cite giving you more time to focus on him as his reason, and you'd fire back that perhaps he just wanted to make your job a bit easier that day, but the mischievous sparkle in his eyes would shut you up. For now. Still. Kokichi leaving his bleeding heart on the floor he knows you clean first is the same as him leaving a crude ghost drawing at Kaito's doorstep, regardless of any innocence he feigns. He wants you to find it. The only difference is he doesn't actually mean to scare you.

He’ll be here any minute now

He’s called for no royal invitation

You’ve made no plans

But he’s already on his way

You know it

The door will groan and gag against his greasy fingers

Slamming wood against rough stone walls

Echoing across the snarling maw of the winding hall

Eager to swallow you whole

The scratches etching away over the door’s refined paint job

(Mahiru's work, you believe)

A reminder of who owns the place

The floor blooming with bruises

Caving underneath the weight of a dirty dress shoe

Tapping

Like clockwork

Scuffing pristine tile as he chases after you

(All that wide open room

Where will you hide?)

Brown smudging blinding white

Sweaty hands staining your gloves

Slimy fingers tangling in yours

Slobbering all over your tight-lipped mouth

Drool

dripping

down

to

the

floor

Pooling into the tile grooves

He’ll make a mess of everything

Of you

So you clean!

You roll up your sleeves

The bright silk digging into your forearms

(A gift from him, of course)

Cutting the circulation

(You feel as if you could puke up the blood

You'd only leave more work for yourself)

And put yourself to use

You scrub away any sense of innuendo

Pray the sparkling floors distract his wandering eye

Toss the freshly chopped firewood

Scattered around in the game of tag he “demanded”

(See: pleaded for)

So he gags at the smoke

Sick as the heat

Seeping into your shielded shoulder

From his arm

Restrained by bandages you so lovingly wrapped

Yet so invitingly naked

Coiled around your shoulder

You know,

Like he’s slick

Like the lopsided crown and newly crafted red cloak could only bury the sly little jester boy hiding underneath

Only peaking out to trick and tease you

Like you don’t keep watch for those kind of things

Pick apart intentions like you pick at grimy china dishes

Till they're white enough to smash against wiped down walls

Chipping ethereal murals

(What fine work Angie and her god do)

In grief,

And frustration,

And loneliness

The sort of loneliness you handle with worn gloves 

 Shaky hands and emboldened care

In sickness and in health

The shatter clanging against gold tableware

Leaving glass shards you’ll never stop finding in odd places

(Reminders of what you’ve wrecked)

You polish glass windows

(Let a pretty thing walk by and catch his eye

See what happens)

And the tile

Permitting your boots to clack against it

(They say a glimpse at your reflection can talk you out of plans better than your closest friend

And you're too frightened to do it anyway)

Clear the table with patience and resolve

Straighten the chairs

Careful not to scratch through your hard work

You look filthy and disheveled in comparison

You hope it covers up all that beauty he finds in you 

Your palpable fear buried by the tight-lipped smile and droopy eyes

Underneath the blood, sweat, and tears

You've smeared all across your face

And when you still hear no clatter of doors

You will dust off the throne

(He will plop down

Bouncing on red velvet

Kicking his feet

And drag you down with him

Only tugging harder when you move to stand

You both will relish in the warmth of your meal and each other)

Set the table for two

(Checkered place mats

And no complicated utensil systems

Just how he likes it)

And pour poset ale

Older than you

And call for Ibuki

To let the favorites you share with him

Float in the background

And Ruraka

To bake “freaky little peasant horse bread”

(Such a way with words he has

Not a good one, mind you

Just a way)

 The ones he insists on sharing with you each morning

Until busy, achy feet finally land

Square against the doorframe

(To distract your nerves

Of course)

Waiting

Rudely clean air waiting back at you

…

…

...

…

…

…

…

...

He’s requested so much of you since your arrival

(A tad ungrateful

Considering you only work for a roof under your head and a way to spend your time)

Ruling advice

Ring around the Rosie

Courtship assistance

Tic tac toe

Guidance exploring the town

Hide and seek

Kisses for good luck

(His words

Not yours)

Bedtime stories

You’ve served him without hesitation

(Whether out of duty or desire

You’re too petrified to know)

Each order verbally signed off with an “Of course, my lord”

He’d dramatically wave away

You will lay down your life for him in battle if he orders it

(He won't

Would scold you for even thinking it

It would only draw an unnecessary smile out of you)

Even rip out your balled hand from its tight grip on your gown

To offer it in marriage

If truly necessary

The demon child resting on his shoulder

Wines at him to take

And take

And take

All his growing soul thinks it needs

You have only the few constricting desires

Sewn into the borders of your heart

The lace so delicate

You find it easy to ignore the brush against your ribcage

As your

Still

Late at night

Esteemed royalty nestled between your chest

The fireplace crackling louder than your careless whispers

Empty wine bottles

Sitting at his bedside

Watching you

In eager anticipation

Stray embers tickling the arms wrapped tightly around him

His nimble, calloused hands dig into your open skin

Blood trailing down your gown

(You offer to scrub it out of the carpet come morning

He says the carpet stain can be a reminder of your talks

And how could you sneak out of bed that early

Just to let him wake up alone,

You cruel mistress!)

He plays doctor

The white wine you’ve poured and he’s offered acts as middle age anesthesia

Filthy, jagged fingernails

(Bound to infect your willing immune system

With trickery and lies

You'll pocket

Just in case)

Gingerly drag each thread out of its meticulous stitching

Tickling and kneading the offending origin with each gentle tug

Weaving each mortifying need

Into a growing tapestry

Hung above his bedside

He tends to it every day

With a spot right next to him at the banquet table

Mandatory playtime breaks

Careless affectionate touches

(Unbecoming in his case

Unprofessional in yours)

A place in his bed

Chess he “totally let you win, anyway!”

Unwanted help in the kitchen

And with greeting guests

And cleaning

And organizing

And anything to silence the rude question he found neatly embroidered on your heart

Lovingly tracing over it with his thumb

Tearfully trying to kiss it better 

(You handle his scraped knees the same)

“What else can I do to help?”

How dare anything

Anyone!

Ask that of you?

He laments

One bratty night

Empty champagne glasses

Diligently washed and packed away

(Why leave his buzzing mind visual clutter?

Brutal peace negotiations have worn him out well enough)

After all you do for us!

He cries

He calls for you to tuck him in

(You suspect the “us” is mostly him

But his pride is a silly, wounded thing

The only thing you enjoy nurturing)

Today you’ve poured your everything into your presentation

All your concern and trust and care

All you know how to give

Into your hospitality

If there’s any magical force out there watching over you

(And with all the wild and overbearing magic this kingdom runs into

There might as well be)

You hope and pray it’s enough for his aching heart

It is

Just this once

#fanfiction #danganronpa #tojouma #drv3 #kirumi tojo #drv3 kirumi #danganronpa kirumi #drv3 kokichi #danganronpa kokichi #kokichi ouma #ouma kokichi #danganronpa drv3 #danganronpa v3 #dr v3 #v3 #friendship #poem #poetry #long poem #long poetry #angst #contemplation #contemplative #feelings #unrequited love #complicated relationships #emotional #medevial au #fantasy au #au

[twstinginthewind]

Hum, hold, and shower (but Ruby has the scent of Punch's soap), maybe~?

Five Senses prompts!

(cw: facial injuries)

Ruby stepped into Punch's room carefully, trying not to trip over the hem of his borrowed bathrobe. He coughed quietly to get his host's attention.

"Hey," Punch turned toward him from where he had been pacing. "You're all right, Rue?" He pushed back Ruby's long bangs from his forehead, and winced a little. "You're cleaned up, but that's gonna leave a nasty bruise..."

"I... it'll be fine." Ruby shook his head, gently disengaging Punch's hand from his forehead. "It's nothing compared to what happened to you."

"Psh." Punch gave him a lopsided grin, set askew by a swollen lip and black eye. He still had traces of blood beneath his nose, but it had stopped bleeding before they had even gotten back to Ignihyde. "And those muscleheaded jerks who started it are even worse off than me. But they deserved it for messing with you!"

Ruby lowered his head. "I was being weird again...."

"No." Punch sighed. "You were talking with your animal friends. And that's not weird, that's amazing. Those twerps had no right to hassle you over it." He sniffed, and wiped his nose on his jacket sleeve. "All right. My turn to get cleaned up. I left an extra shirt and shorts on the bed for you; just pull the drawstring real tight, okay? I'll be back in ten minutes."

Ruby nodded gratefully, his eyes still a little red. "Okay." He sat on the edge of the bed as Punch retreated into the bathroom, and sighed deeply. He'd been wanting a reason to stay over at Punch's place, but this wasn't one of the reasons he had hoped for. He didn't want Punch to have to feel like he had to protect him... but the fact that he did, and that he ran off those upperclassmen, made his heart feel warm.

He gathered up the robe close to his face. He had been used to this scent as a background fragrance before. People from the Queendom of Roses were known for always having a bit of a flowery scent to them, but this particular rose-lavender-and-lemon combination was always the smell of Punch to him. And now, he was surrounded by it; from the soap he had washed with to the robe he dried off in, he was immersed in that scent. And he really, really liked it.

But he couldn't stay in the robe all night. He carefully dried himself, and dressed in the too-big clothes that he was provided. Even with the drawstring pulled as tight as he could get it, the shorts still hung on his hips, and he felt as though he could be swallowed by the t-shirt. But they were clean, and soft, and would be fine for sleeping in. His own uniform hung in the bathroom, having just been washed off in the sink, and would hopefully be dry by the time he had to go back to his own dorm.

Ruby heard the water turn off in the little bathroom, and the sounds of movement. Punch had brought his own change of clothes in there with him, and was likely to be another few minutes before he emerged. Ruby wasn't sure what to do with himself, so he carefully hung the robe over the back of the desk chair, and positioned himself in front of the bookshelves. He let his gaze run across the titles of the paperbacks that Punch had collected, and over the tiny clockwork machinations that occupied all the other available space. There were so many of them!

The door clicked behind him, and Punch entered the room in his own pajamas. Ruby turned to greet him. Punch's curly hair had been brushed back from his bruised face, but he smiled contentedly at the merman. "I'm sorry I didn't have anything that fit better."

"It's okay. I'm comfortable, lots of room to breathe." Ruby laughed, self-consciously. "Um. I'm kind of beat, though. Is it okay if I lie down?"

"Yeah," Punch breathed, shuffling his feet. "It'll be a little snug, unless I sleep i the chair—"

"No." Ruby reached for Punch's hand, and pulled the taller boy close to him. "Snug is fine. We can share the bed."

"Right!" Punch's face went red. "Wall side or open side, then?"

"Wall side is fine." Ruby held tight to Punch's hand, and guided him over to the bed. He climbed onto the bed, and put his head onto the far side of the pillow. His weight shifted as Punch joined him there, the mattress shifting beneath their combined weight. They lay there a moment, facing each other.

"It might take me a while to fall asleep," Punch admitted.

Ruby gave him a soft smile. "I can help with that." And he began to sing. It was a simple song, with a peaceful melody; one that his grandmother used to sing to him when he was a tiny child. As he sang, he watched Punch's face relax, and his eyes drift closed. As his breathing began to shift into the regular pattern of sleep, Ruby craned his neck forward to kiss him on the cheek. "Sweet dreams," he whispered, as his own heavy eyelids drifted down.

#twisted wonderland oc #punch carder #friend's oc #ruby ravine #rubypunch my beloved #story #thanks for waiting for me!

[cyberpawn-arc]

Try + Jack Entropy!

Send Try + A Character You’d Like To See Me ( Attempt ) To Write!

There's something different now about Jack's home, maybe it's the fact it's turned to Spring and there's new life in the air. Maybe it's the anxiety of not having released a song in a few months and that his manager is breathing down his neck. Maybe it could even be the fact that he got only two hours of sleep last night, but why would that be?

Well, that was a better question for Jack's child than Jack himself. Spring came to Night City, not with blossoming flowers or baby animals running around, but with lightning strikes and thunder all night long. And of course, that kept Vale up for hours. They were only three years old, so storms were a terrifying thing for them to behold. And Jack stayed up all night to make sure they were safe and sound.

Storms would always exist, but Jack knew that Vale couldn't always run to him. He could be on tour, Vale could be spending the night at a friend's house, Kick could be babysitting, whatever the situation, Jack couldn't always be there as Vale grew up, but at least he could give Vale something to make those scary nights better.

It was a short walk to Vale's bedroom, a mess as always. Jack grinned, knowing that no amount of cleaning would prevent stuffed animals and toy blocks and crayons from cluttering the ground. Occupied as always, Jack waved to get their attention, pulling Vale from their fantasies of toys fighting evil pirates and saving the day from baddies.

Fate moved like clockwork, and even broken clocks were right twice a day, as Jack revealed the large Godzilla plush from behind his back. It was the biggest Jack had even seen Vale smile, and the first time Jack had ever heard his child squeal with glee and say "Papa!" as they rushed to hug him. Jack kneeled down, fully embracing his little rockstar with the biggest smile he has ever had on his face as well. Holding on tight to them, Jack knew that maybe giving Vale that stuffed animal gave him some comfort too. Comfort knowing his child would never be alone, never think Jack was far away, always feeling loved.

"I'll always be here for you, Vale. I love you very much."

#badtrigger

[sugawarassoulmate]

Hiii idk if anyone has asked this yet but how about suna x badboy🍑 ALSO I JUST WANTED TO SAY i love your writing omg you're so talented

thank you 🥺

words: 890

cw: gn!reader, hate sex, forbidden relationship, pet names, begging, minors dni

your friends hated suna. they didn’t like how he showed up late to everything or his bad attitude about most things. he was super obnoxious and left a mess behind everywhere he went and never bothered to clean up after himself.

obviously you hated him too. hated the way he’d stare at you from across the room, how his low voice always seemed to call out for you, and that insufferable nickname he insisted on exclusively referring to you as. you hated him. you hated him.

“fuck, bunny, keep moving just like that,” he grunts, hand lazily reaching up to slap your ass. he liked you best on top. he could see your tits bouncing in his face and, when he was feeling extra annoying, he’d plant his feet to the bed to fuck into you.

but for right now, he was content to have you do all the work. staring are you with that smirk you just want to wipe off his stupid face.

“stop looking at me like that…” you whine, trying not to meet his gaze and focusing all your attention on getting yourself off. for as bad company as he was, suna knew your body like the back of his hand and his big, stupid dick felt incredible. you hated him for that too.

as you grind your hips, trying to feel more of him, suna reaches up to grab you. his thumb and pointer finger pinch your cheek, pulling you down towards him. “you’re just so pretty, bunny. can’t help but look at you.”

he says shit like this all the time and you know he doesn’t mean it, but it still tugs at your heartstrings all the same. you’d hate to contribute to his ego—to make him feel that he had any effect on you aside from his body—but your arms still found their way around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

you’re draped across him now, a new angle to experience but it still doesn’t feel like enough. it doesn’t feel the same as when he takes charge, pinning you to the mattress and fucks you like it’s his last day on earth. but he’ll only do it if you ask him to. suna liked to see you beg, liked knowing that you couldn’t cum without his help.

and, by the look on his face, he was hoping you’d ask, eyes straying away from your face. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but you wanted more, needed it. “rin…” you mumble, thighs already squeezing around him.

just like clockwork, he smiles up at you, humming as he leans in for another kiss. “i want more, rin…” but that’s not good enough for him. throwing out what little pride you had left, you put on the show he’s been wanting all night. “fuck me, rin. can’t do it myself. wanna cum so bad, please help me.”

before you could think, suna flipped you over. his hands push your thighs apart, leaving you completely open to him. “thought you’d never ask, bunny. of course, i can help,” he pulls his hips back, until his cock is nearly out of. the sudden emptiness makes you gasp. suna loves to dangle your pleasure over you until you’re crying for it. another thing to hate him for.

of course, nothing gets him off more like making you cum and he slams right back into you. “rin!” you cried, tangling your fingers in his hair. you hated him. couldn’t stand him. if your friends could see you now, they’d be disgusted. him? of all people, suna rintaro? he was all the things you couldn’t stand, your complete opposite. but right now he was the source of all your happiness.

“say my name again, bunny,” he demands, pressing you into the mattress just like you hoped he would. “lemme hear that pretty voice while i fuck you.”

he buries himself deep within you, his skin slapping against yours with every thrust. sure, you hate him. you hate nearly everything about him but his fucking cock made it all worth it. what was the point of having dignity when you had him? “you fuck me so good, rin! please don’t stop! rin, please, please!” each cry of his name has him losing his composure. you hear him cursing under his breath, gasping at how amazing you feel around him. “ahhh, rin! rin, rin, rin, can i cum?” you ask, nails digging into his arms.

“oh, fuck,” he growls, biting at your bottom lip. “cum around my cock, bunny, wanna feel it.”

with his permission, you finally release around him. the coil in the pit of your stomach snapping into a million pieces. suna’s name falls from your lips as you cream around him, your slick making it easier for him to slip deeper inside.

suna curses, pulling out to cum on your stomach. it’s thick and warm, running down onto the sheets and your thighs. you’re too tired to complain about the mess, knowing suna will clean you up in a bit. first, he kisses you again, whispering praises between each of them. “so good, bunny. you’re always so good for me.”

and this is what you hated the most—how sweet he was to you. because as much as you hated suna rintaro, he absolutely adored you.

©sugawarassoulmate 2021 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #suna rinatro #suna x reader #rintaro suna #suna rintaro #rintaro suna smut #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyu smut #suna smut #suna rintaro smut #🍑 #🍑suna #peach has 3k followers