Maybe Caine really wanting the Reader's attention, but the reader is reading or doing a craft. So he acts like a dog or cat would? Like, getting really close or into arms and such?
₊ your attention . . .ᝰ.ᐟ⊹ ࣪ ˖
꒰🎪 ꒱ pairing: caine x gn!reader
꒰🎪꒱ tags: teethrotting fluff, puppy-coded!caine, sfw, reading being a bit of a bitch, caine desperate for attention, caine jealous of a book, comedy, fluff, caine calls reader "dear" x2 and "toots" x1, caine has an implied crush on reader -- ep 9 spoiler free
꒰🎪꒱ a/n: thanks for the request! really proud of how this came out, might be a little short - banner by "3HKowalski" on tumblr
request rules here! - masterlist!
The ringleader had always showed a preference to you, compared to the others; whether it was coming up with excuses to be close to you, asking for suggestions for adventures and only actually listening to your requests, helping you during adventures by giving you hints and suggestions, or just directly randomly asking to hangout, despite his hesitation and shyness in asking a human to spend time with him.
You enjoyed spending time with Caine. You couldn't really explain the motive behind it, he probably caused you to feel sorry for him, even though he wasn't the best towards the others, you could tell he was really trying his best to make everyone have fun, but it just wasn't programmed in him.
The empathy you felt towards him was the energy that moved your legs to walk and stay in his office whenever he asked you. He even generated the book you once talked about to him in the digital world for you to read as a thanks for staying with him while everyone turned their back towards his mix-matched eyes.
So there you were, the artificial moonlight shining through the glass roof of Caine's office, you were sat comfortably on one of the two green couches who were placed parallel to one another in the middle of his office, completely immerse in your favorite book.
"My dear, you've spent hours reading that silly book of yours!" Caine commented, floating slightly above you.
In reality only about 30 minutes had passed from when you started reading the first pages of your novel, but apparently Caine, like a big needy puppy, already missed your attention.
You took in the decision of not replying to him, seeing how far he would take this little scene.
Seeing you lack of answer, the ringleader looked down at you with his big eyes, noticing how comfortable you were on the couch, his couch! You were in his office and you had the guts to ignore him!
"Playing the silent game are you? Fine, two can play at this game, toots!" He challenged, childishly turning his back towards you, still mid-air, closing his teeth to shut his eyes in a toddler-like tantrum.
You still didn't give him the benefit of looking up at the pretentious ringmaster, your eyes analyzing the book you were reading, line by line, word by word.
Noticing this, Caine's "two can play at this game" personality quickly vanished after just a few seconds, noticing you weren't calling out for him or giving him any attention whatsoever, he turned back, defeated but not showing it.
His artificial brain was scattered with thoughts, what could possibly be in that book that was so much more important than him?! His upper teeth furrowed like eyebrows in rage and disappointment
Curiosity got the best of him and he subtly floated closer to you, from behind, gently placing his head on your shoulder, looking forward to see the content of the book, trying to understand what was taking up all of your attention that should be concentrated on him instead.
Caine's big heterochromatic eyes looked at the words lined up on the pages, the author was going off about a topic, or describing a character, he couldn't tell, it wasn't important anyway, it was most likely boring compared to him.
"Looks boring," He commented, definitely out of jealousy for a book, "nothing about this looks entertaining."
You could tell he was getting more and more pissed off by the second, but that didn't stop you from giving him the silent treatment, smugly turning the page, acting as if you don't hear his complains.
At this point, he didn't even wait to see your reaction, he just floated on the couch and crawled towards you, arriving on your lap and practically shoving his face towards yours.
"Is this enough to grab your attention?"
You were basically forced to look at him, the desperate look in his big puppy eyes breaking your tough act with a short smile.
"Caine, c'mon i'm trying to read!—" you said with a short smile, trying to playfully push his head out of the way.
"Mmm, I don't think so, dear!" Caine said, and with a snap of his fingers, the book disappeared from your hands like if it had never existed.
"Hey! Caine, i was enjoying that!" you gave him a soft pout, in reality you stopped concentrating on the book a few minutes ago when he started with his antics.
"Nonsense! You couldn't enjoy a book more than my company!" Caine bit back in a condescending tone, then after a few seconds, he looked at you with puppy eyes "..could you?"
His soft gaze broke your heart and caused you to chuckle warmly, holding his "face" in your palms and caressing his bottom gums.
"Of course not, Caine.."
You stayed cuddled for about a minute, before Caine realized how close you two were, and floated away from you, fixing his bow tie, as he cleared his throat with blush covering what would be his cheeks.
"A-ahem, that's great to hear!" He says, hiding the shyness in his voice, going on to ramble about some topic, leaving you forced, but happy, to listen.
Summary: Fresh off a long-term relationship and with nowhere else to go, you decide to look online for options. Amongst all the creepy listings and overpriced apartments, you find an ad that changes your life. “Roommate Wanted”. With nothing left to lose, you text the number and show up to the interview expecting literally anything but what you walk into.
A/N: This is Not A Reverse Harem. This is totally based on New Girl lol, but it is not gonna be the same. Also, this story is non-linear, it will mainly be isolated scenes with no plot, no word count/limit, no actual storyline, no schedule. Just something fun to write here and there! xx
“Okay where are the cameras?” You try not to burst out laughing as you look from one guy to the other. They look like male models, and you suddenly feel like you’re on some kind of prank reality game show or something.
The three guys look at each other and then back at you. The blue-eyed one blinks once before speaking. “Uh…Oh— wait no. This is not that kind of ad.” He turns to the one with the longer hair, “What the fuck did you write on there, Cass?”
The other guy, Cass, shrugs, “It was a normal ad! I just wrote that we need a roommate, that we have one room open, and the rent amount— all normal stuff.” He ticks each thing off on his fingers and then shrugs again.
You raise your hand slowly and everyone turns to look at you again. “Actually, you wrote ‘must be hot’ at the end— but I thought it was, like, a joke.”
The quiet guy that has been tinkering in the kitchen until now walks over to smack Cass on the back of the head and the first guy just drops his head, chin to his chest, letting out a deep sigh.
You try not to giggle, thinking to yourself that maybe this would work out— they don’t look like creeps. You bite your lip, mentally considering the pros and cons of living here (even though they have not officially made the offer yet) and you are heavily leaning towards yes. What could possibly outweigh living with three drop-dead gorgeous men? And the rent is doable, the place looks clean, it’s in a good area of the city, it's close to your work— it’s pretty much perfect.
"Rhys," the quiet guy says, "what in the hell made you think Cassian should be in charge of writing the ad?"
"Honestly, I just didn't want to do it myself." Rhys sits back on the couch and looks back at you. "Well, ___, I apologize about the weird ad— apparently that was too much to ask for of this meatball."
"Meatball?" Cassian sits up and flexes his arms, smirking. "I think you mean beefcake."
You laugh, loud and embarrassing, and nod, trying to talk through your giggles. "It's okay." You swipe a tear from the corner of your eye and clear your throat. "Okay, so I can do the rent, but I don't get paid until next week, is that okay?"
Rhys nods, "I'm sure that can work. Az?"
The quiet guy crosses his arms over his chest. "Yeah, that works."
Rhys turns to Cassian. "Cass?"
Cassian winks at you, "Hell yeah."
Rhys rolls his eyes. "Okay since we all agreed, you are welcome to move in at any time. If you need help moving any of your stuff, we can help you. Now, apartment rules: Keep your girly stuff contained to your room— no offense but I don't want to hear 'you have a girlfriend?' every night." Az snorts, and Cassian nods sagely. "Dinner is at 6 every evening— Azriel runs a tight ship— and we have a chore calendar on the wall over there." He points at a whiteboard hanging on the wall. "Other than that, I mean, we're all adults here. Any questions?"
Cassian raises his hand and Azriel frowns, "Not you."
"What? I can have questions."
Rhys rubs his temples, "What questions do you have?"
Cassian turns to you, "Do you have any hot friends? Preferably single but I like a challenge."
"You'll have to ignore him," Rhys sounds and looks comically tired and you bite your lip to not laugh. "He'll calm down once you've been here for at least a week."
A phone rings and Azriel excuses himself to take the call and walks down the hall. You watch him leave and then turn back to the other two men. "Okay so I actually brought everything with me in my car, I think I can get it all but thanks for the offer to help. Uhm... let's see what else..." You tap your chin dramatically. "Yes, I have hot friends, but I love them too much to introduce them to any of you."
Rhys puts a hand to his chest, "I'm hurt. But I understand."
Cassian gets up, stretching a little before walking to the kitchen and getting a bottle of water from the fridge. "Well, as much as I am enjoying this conversation, I need to get to work. See you later, ___."
He walks out the door and Rhys stands up. "I have to go too. Go ahead and get settled in, let me know if you need anything— my number was the one on the ad. Cass and Az's numbers are on a note on the fridge along with the wifi password and the code for the door lock. See you later, ___, welcome."
You sit on the couch for a long moment, messaging your friend group chat to let them know you're okay and that the apartment worked out. You giggle at the wave of emojis they send in response to your brief breakdown of everything that just happened. You giggle when your best friend says she is immediately packing her bags to move as well.
"Bye, ___. I'm off to work, but it was nice meeting you." Az's low voice startles you and you drop your phone, which bounces and lands right next to his foot.
You feel your face burn as he leans down to pick it up and you see the gif of a woman fanning herself that one of your friends had sent. "Oh, that's—" he hands you your phone, and you suddenly wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole.
Az grins, a single dimple on his left cheek making an appearance, and the faintest pink staining his cheekbones. "I didn't see anything."
And with that he walks away and out the door, leaving you in an empty apartment, and with a car full of things you need to move in. Ugh.
Request: If it makes you feel better, we can do a regular magical girl!Sister reader? I kind of want Reader to be mean in she in magical girl form. (Invincible x)
!!Wc: 3,3k!!
!!Warnings: Chaotic reader bla bla arrogant reader, crack fic and absurdist comedy!!
A.n: @mossgirlooooo I know you've been waiting patiently for a long timee, I hope you like it <3 / Header by me, please do not use without permission!
It could be thought that you hated your brother Mark. Especially because of your constant yapping about him being a selfish, stupid, thoughtless thing in the middle of every conflict.
But there was something people just didn't want to understand, you were just like that too. More like on the visible side of the iceberg, you seemed calm and gentle like him but you weren't like that at all. You weren't that person in the identity you hid from society.
As always, you were pulled away from a dream you wouldn't really remember by the sound of your alarm coming from afar. While your eyes opened lazily, they searched for the clock by your bedside.
The bad news was, you were late for school. The good news was, you were actually late for school. This meant not seeing the faces of those damn teachers and a day where your brother and the carrot shoved up his asshole didn't follow you around.
"Ahhh, thanks for a beautiful day to whoever is up there," you said while stretching in bed and getting up quickly. And of course, to greet a beautiful morning in the best way possible, a cold shower could not be skipped.
Without worrying about your messy state, you grabbed the pitcher by your bedside and filled your glass with water. You drank the water in a single gulp while walking out of your room toward the bathroom.
Your mom's voice wasn't coming out, which meant she wasn't home. And you, using the freedom in the house to the fullest,left the door open. You decided to sit on the toilet and watch some reels. After all you weren't in much of a hurry.
But someone else was. Especially an old emo whose name started with C. You didn't open it, you didn't want anyone to hear you peeing. Homever Cecil was calling persistently, which confirmed your thoughts. First, Cecil didn't trust Mark but if he had to choose between him or you, he would stick to Mark. Second,this was Cecil; if his ass was in a tight spot, he would call you like he was calling his kid sitting in the corner of the park.
Instead of answering his call, you sent a message. Of course he replied instantly. Or rather he just cut it short. You looked at the coordinates reflecting inside your eyes. At least he could have sent a proper message.
"Hah, I'm sure it's not even anything important," you said as you went back to reels. You weren't really eager to rush.
Not giving your focus to the screen in front of you, you slowly lifted your head toward the wall. A seed of doubt had fallen inside you. "Could he be having a heart attack on the way or something?.."
Laughing quickly at your own thought, you answered as if you were someone else. "Hahh no, no. That's Cecil Stedman. He has that teleportation he uses constantly that costs 7 million dollars as if it's nothing."
Back when you faced your father, Cecil had suddenly teleported away during the incoming attack, causing you who was behind him, to taste the incoming punch. A shiver passed through you; that had really hurt. "Anyway if he dies, at least I'll go to his funeral."
-----
You were messing around with your fingers intertwined. Your eyes with the most judging exhaustion, were looking at the press in front of you—while Cecil sat next to you, answering the directed questions.
Without looking at him you said in a low voice, "I can't believe I made the stupid mistake of taking pity and rushing to your side—what a fucking situation."
Even though Cecil heard you, he didn't break his composure. Honestly your words sounded quite normal right now—especially with your magician version constantly bouncing one foot under the table, it was completely normal.
When your spells weren't active, you were quite polite. Thoughtful, helpful and soft-spoken as velvet. And when you used your powers, everything turned upside down. This spent its time insulting the decisions you made in your other version—and then cursing at those around you.
"Alright, does anyone have any questions?"with Cecil's words and everyone in the room raising their hands, you returned to the matter at hand. Of course,Cecil would pick the most sensible-looking person and direct a boring question at you.
As for you, you didn't have the precious patience to deal with any of this.
You lifted your chin slightly toward the youngest and most inexperienced looking reporter among them. Cecil gave you a brief glance—he looked a bit bothered by you interfering in this. Well what can you say, you lived for these moments anyway. With a little bit of enjoyment creeping in, you leaned back in your chair—your fingers smoothing the skirts of your sparkly dress.
The young reporter stood up before even digesting the shock of being picked. "It is said that the Flaxan army from a long time ago will return—is this true?"
You and Cecil glanced sideways at each other at the same time. What the fuck kind of a question was this, you thought to yourself; on the other hand Cecil was thinking, oh god please don't say something stupid.
"Who is saying that?"" you said, shifting slightly in your position.
The young man answered, stuttering from his excitement, "According to rumors from certain experts—"
One of your eyes narrowed questioningly. "Are you taking men seriously who can't keep their hands busy with anything other than jerking off?" you remained there with your lips slightly parted in a dismissive expression.
Cecil let out a muffled cough and immediately reached for his water next to him. You focused for a moment on the movement of his throat as he drank loudly—while another woman, taking advantage of the young reporter's shock at your answer, pushed the topic forward. "Magi Girl, what is your strategy against this army that has threatened to invade the world?"
With your head shaking slightly in an unsteady manner, you huffed to show you were bored and slowly turned your gaze toward the woman. Then you leaned forward resting your elbows on the table in a heavy, deliberate way.
The microphone stabbed your arrogant voice into every single soul in the room. "Strategy? I'm going to smash those ugly creatures wrinkled faces flat with my pink wand. I'm calling out to them from here—I'm going shopping on saturday fuckers, so if you don't want to meet worse consequences, don't you dare try to attack on that day. Come on friday—let me finish your business in 5 minutes."
Turning to Cecil's piercing glare—which looked like it was digging a hole in your head—you gave him a cool wink. The press, meanwhile, had filled up again with noise and the clicking of cameras. Everything seemed under your control,almost.
Of course some disruptions occurred,a sweaty balding man in the middle of the crowd suddenly stood up. He rolled his tongue in a tone close to your previous arrogant manner. "The success of your father, Omni Man was the only factor that completely solved the last invasion. His son Invincible, was the next power after him—so where were you during this time?"
Your jaw tightened for a split second, but you immediately brushed it off your face. "Are you asking why Flaxan blood didn't splatter on my skirt while the old man and my brother went out and handled an entire army?"
While pointing and shaking your finger back and forth at the man, you snapped your fingers noticeably. "While ostriches like you were staring pitifully at the sky just for a single footage, doing absolutely jack shit—who did you think was saving the civilians? But no, the only thing that matters to you is flashy news, right."
Spreading your hands glamorously in the air, you visualized the imaginary headline in your head. "Omni Man and his successor save the world from terrorist aliens!"
"You got the topic wrong—"
"We know what the fuck we're talking about here." you slammed your hand onto the table. Cecil completely unfazed, had already picked up his glass beforehand to prevent it from spilling. Then he placed it back on the surface and crossed his hands. He really didn't have the energy to deal with you.
"Your problem isn't finding a real hero. You can fool society, but never me," you also pointed your thumb at the man next to you who wished he could just vanish. "Or this man. Right, Cecil?"
Without looking at you, he leaned into his microphone and addressed the press. "The briefing is over, Magi Girl has other projects she needs to attend to."
You crinkled your nose, stating loudly, "Exactly! Before you freaks get the fuck out of my presence, know this if you're looking for a real hero, look at my outfit and my wand, the rest are just muscle-heads."
While Cecil shot you a glaring look, your words caused a massive reaction. The crowd was heatedly trying to make themselves heard, stepping all over each other's words. Meanwhile you and Cecil were already close together, starting to argue.
"Damn it, how many times have I told you to watch that tongue of yours!" you gave Cecil a bored smile. "Who cares about my tongue, people are already used to my true self. I wish you would accept it a little too so we could focus on the future, big guy."
Cecil looked like he was about to have a literal nervous breakdown. Mark would always annoy him, but in the end they could compromise and de-escalate the situation somehow. But stopping you was impossible. You were like a runaway stop sign with legs. "People being used to that tongue of yours doesn't mean they aren't twisting your words. Listen to me carefully, next time—"
"What the fuck do you even do, you pink whore!"with the voice coming from the crowd, your fight stopped. For a moment Cecil's hand hung in the air, opening and closing as he didn't know what to do—ultimately pinching his eyelids with his fingers,while you turned your head with a slowness that felt like a century toward the press that had fallen silent.
You scanned the crowd with dull eyes. "Who said that." you hadn't asked you demanded.
This must be what they call reckless bravery—believing he wouldn't get caught in the crowd same man threw another insult. "It seems like the dildos you shoved in this morning weren't enough for you—you're just standing there braying as horny as a bull."
Your head, which was looking at another corner of the room, snapped toward the sound. Your lips curled into a ready growl,your eyes flashing fire. Of course you had caught the owner of the disgusting mouth directed at you. No other expression could be read from your gaze.
You threw the microphone in front of you to the side. As it bounced on the floor, a sickening screech echoed through the room. Cecil slowly leaned back in his chair, watching with wide eyes. "Get the fuck out of here," you said as you stood up.
There was only madness in your eyes.
You flipped the table in front of you to the floor as if it were nothing. You walked toward the press member with your jaw clenched tight. "Get the fuck out of here, man!"
The words filled the room, making the air thin and hard to breathe. Your sudden outburst had created a moment of stillness—but immediately after the sound of flashing cameras and shouting voices filled the room.
Of course, they were going to turn this into a news source too. Society loved bringing a hero down just as much as they loved praising one.
After giving the man one final lethal look, you walked toward the exit without caring.
The moment you stepped through the door, the room let out a heavy breath. Still no one stepped up to open their mouth and say a word. Even Cecil just sat there in silence. While they were trying to shake off the effect of the shock, you walked back into the room swinging your arms by your sides like a rowdy.
"Excuse me, there was something I forgot." In a polite tone twirling the wand between your fingers and pointing it towards the crowd.
"Cunt louse." with the words you spoke like a magic spell, a crimson beam shooting out of your wand hit the target. While people screamed and instinctively threw themselves to the floor and ducked, you were already looking at the little thing in front of you—your lips curled in a sadistic manner.
You had turned that reporter into a human faced cockroach the size of a mouse.
-----
"If you got a problem, then it's your fucking problem."
Without listening much to the panicked word vomit Eve was spitting out, you snapped back with the phrase. It had been an incredibly exhausting week—not to mention Cecil looking at you as if he was about to drop all his principles and beat you with a bat.
And here you were dealing with another mindset you absolutely loathed. "Alright, where is he?"
"Who?" you said lifting your eyebrows slightly, leaning your hip against the desk in front of you while sipping the coffee you had stolen from Cecil's office just a few minutes ago.
Eve looked a bit tense because you couldn't speak completely openly due to the people around. "Of course Invincible!" Raising her voice like that was even more boring than Cecil's coffee spreading across your palate.
"Oh him? My clone? Your little piston." you tilted your head expression crinkling with amusement.
"Wha—what the hell are you saying?" With a wicked grin on your lips, you mocked her mockingly. "W-what the hell are you saying?" you didn't even give Eve the chance to open her mouth and speak. "I guess you guys are just fucking around way too much. Girl, your brain is literally mushh! Until you got together with him,"
You brought two of your fingers close together in the air, leaving almost no space between them. "You had at least a bit of a mind. Now what's left is just completely turned to mush. So, sooo sad."
"Oh my god...Cecil. Tell her something."
Cecil, who had just entered the room, gave a brief side eye—while in the background only your wild laughter could be heard.
-----
"Ohohohooo and here I thought you were smart, you red prick." You soaked in him furious glare with a massive grin. "So, how much of a fucking idiot do you feel like right now? Come on, come on tell me."
"Don't worry, I won't snitch on you." You had caught Rex in another one of his so- called little flings. But you weren't the only one who had gained a secret. Earlier this week, he had also overheard some things he wasn't supposed to hear.
Specifically things Mark wouldn't like. But you were as relaxed as if you had just been hit by a gentle breeze rather than a threat. Shoving yourself right into Rex's space, blowing air into his face with a playful mood and then instantly turning into a dead serious expression,was something else entirely.
"Oh, you better do that or else I'll rip your damn balls off and castrate you."
"Wha—" you reached out to his cheek and patted it lightly. "Go on now, don't keep your harem waiting."
Despite the tension between you, Rex offered to take you out toward the middle of the day. Of course you accepted—you didn't want to stay with Cecil, who had sworn not to give you a single mission until you rotted away from boredom.
But before that dragging Rex along with you, you went to the laundromat near the agency. You had a few nice dresses left there—thanks to your dear brother getting overly emotional and hugging you despite the blood all over him.
"Everything of yours has shrunk, let's go this weekend and buy you some things." while examining yourself in front of the mirror out of boredom, you turned to Rex. You wanted to punch that expression on his face as he leaned against the wall, staring at you. "Finee let's go hand in hand but Mark has to come too."
After a terrible day—suppressing the urge to slap Mark—you joined the sweet family dinner. Though it was more like stuffing your face while suffocating between Oliver and his strange thoughts.
Despite the occasional glances and implied smiles Debbie threw your way, you didn't even bother getting out of your superhero uniform using a split second spell.
When you lifted your head from the steak you were chewing with your cheek stuffed, you met Mark's gaze. Your eyes darted to Oliver next to you, then back to Mark. You knew those eyes, that puppy look with those damn sparkling irises.
You forced yourself not to just get up from the table and leave. He was definitely either going to ask you for something or he was going to ask you for something.
"We're having a baby." Mark blurted out excitedly, squeezing Eve's hand next to him across the table.
"Congratulations," you said, maintaining your blank facial expression. Mark wasn't immediately affected by this—he probably thought you were just in shock from the excitement. "6 weeks along."
You watched out of the corner of your eye as Debbie happily clasped her hands together and left to go grab the camera. "Good fucking job to you both," you said the moment your mom was gone.
"Aren't you excited?" Mark asked, trying to keep the smile on his face with a slight look of surprise. He was completely disappointed, those puppy eyes were now clouding over with a bit of sadness. "Why? Am I the one who's going to pull the kid out of Eve's pussy?"
"Oh my god, Y/n." Debbie said as she walked into the room, staring at you in utter shock with warning eyes.
-----
"You use your spells in unnecessary ways." You stopped the dessert fork you were bringing to your mouth. Your eyes widened completely as you looked at Cecil.
Placing one hand on your chest, you spoke dramatically, "When did I ever do such a thing?" Cecil, however, looked back with a completely unfazed intensity, "When didn't you?"
You pulled your head back, letting your double chinshow. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you tried to remember the past days.
"Eat that shit!" you shouted as you suddenly grabbed the stop sign you created in the air with your magic, swinging it like a baseball bat at the ten meter tall, one eyed alien. With the blow it received, the giant which had been running on all fours, screamed and fell backward onto its ass.
With an excited giggle slipping from your lips you yelled, "Can you read what's written on it, you ugly creature? It says STOP, STOP! But I guess you don't know how to read and write!"
The creature screamed in pain and swung its claw at you—you quickly dodged it. Right after, you slammed the sign onto the monster's face with massive force. The shape of the sign literally printed itself onto the creature's head.
With the impact it took the creature crashed into the special, massive fountain built just this year behind it, turning it to dust. This brought a reaction from Mark, whose presence you had almost forgotten. "Hey! You're damaging government property, Cecil is going to be so mad about this!"
Pouting your lips, you made the sign in your hand vanish—scattering pink glitter around. "We pay taxes Mark, shut up and clean up this mess!"
Your focus snapped back to Cecil. "Every single accusation thrown at me is a lie."
Cecil raised his eyebrow at you as if to say really. "Because of your stubbornness, Mark is always the one writing the reports."
"Yeah, but that idiot can't even write properly with those glasses anyway."
Writing while listening to Three Days Grace was a mistake. And no, I did not have a drink.
Imagine the chaos if the reader in the divine babysitters/ too many Zamasu’s thing got sick
You don’t even sneeze dramatically.
It’s small.
A tiny:
“…achoo.”
But to the Zamasu collective?
It’s the sound of the cosmos tearing itself apart.
You: sniffles
Zamasu #1: “BELOVED MORTAL, WHAT WAS THAT???”
You: “I think I’m getting a little—”
Zamasu #2: “POISONED?!?”
You: “No—”
Zamasu #3: “CURSED??”
You: “Just sick—”
Zamasu #4 clutching you like a Victorian wet cat:
“THE FRAGILITY OF MORTALITY IS PAINFUL TO WITNESS.”
A chorus of Zamasus rise in divine harmony:
“THIS IS INTOLERABLE.”
They don’t understand “colds.”
Or “viruses.”
Or “immune systems.”
But they do understand that you’re warm, tired, and sniffly.
Which means:
They start naming it like it’s a sacred plague.
“The Affliction of the Quiet Flame.”
“Soul-Drain Through Nasal Channels.”
“The Mortal Dissolution Syndrome.”
“Water Leakage From Face Orifices.”
You: “It’s literally just a cold.”
Zamasu #12: “A cold? A cold? MORTALS DIE FROM COLD!”
You: “They don’t.”
Zamasu #12: “THEY DO NOW.”
They refuse to move you; they build around you.
3 Zamasus fluff your pillows
2 bring 97 blankets
5 hover in a circle generating “holy warmth”
1 makes soup
1 argues soup is unholy mortal poison
8 draw sigils to “extract the illness dimensionally”
1 cries
10 pray dramatically
Zamasu #4:
“We must tame this vile pathogen.”
You: “It’s allergies.”
Zamasu #4: “THEN WE SHALL ERADICATE NATURE.”
They don't know how to cook.
At all.
One Zamasu tries to boil water. (Somehow burns it)
Another blesses it.
Another purifies it.
Another vaporizes the pot by accident.
The final product is either:
glowing
vibrating
singing
or sentient
You: “I’m not drinking that.”
Zamasu #6:
“IT IS MADE FROM LOVE AND DIVINE ERRORS. DRINK IT”
Oh, the next part is hell.
They all attempt healing techniques.
Simultaneously.
Your house becomes a lightshow of green divine ki beams, holy auras, and sparkly nonsense.
You briefly see time backwards.
Your carpet becomes a plant.
Your couch becomes a cloud.
You sneeze once more, and they SCREAM.
You: “I have a fever.”
Zamasu #3: “I SHALL HOLD YOU.”
Zamasu #8: “NO, I SHALL HOLD THEM.”
A dozen Zamasus: “WE SHALL ALL HOLD THEM.”
You are lifted by a cluster-hug of divine idiots.
Zamasu #14 is crying again.
Zamasu #1 is writing your “final words” even though you didn’t say any.
Zamasu #9 brings you flowers.
Then 8 more bring you flowers, jealous of #9.
Zamasu #2:
“If the last mortal perishes, the cosmos will weep.”
You: “I’m fine.”
---
You: “I feel better today.”
Silence.
Every Zamasu freezes.
Zamasu #1 (trembling):
“…You… you LIVED?”
Zamasu choir:
“A MIRACLE.”
They all begin celebrating like you resurrected.
Someone starts chanting your name.
Someone makes a shrine.
Someone paints you on their wall.
Zamasu #5 tears up:
“They have persevered… truly the most divine mortal.”
You:
“I just took Tylenol.”
They scribble “Tylenol” onto sacred scrolls like it’s a forbidden ritual.
Hi! You're looking great today! Did something new with your hair? Maybe a new lipstick? Or maybe you finally got rid of that pimple from between your eyebrows? Idk, but it's sure been a while so I have came offering you a treat. If you follow my friend @jazzmage28 then you know she has her own Zelda au and I was like "you know what? I want my own au" so I'm writing a Zelda au fanfic called The Legend of Zelda: Farm Life. Following after the events of Majoras Mask where instead of going to war and dying. He returns to Lon Lon Ranch and has a family with Malon. So the treat is that you'll get to read a snippet of the fic RIGHT NOW
Dis the fic
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It was a beautiful morning on Lon Lon Ranch. The horses galloping across the land, the cows mooing in unison, the cuckoos attacking a local child. Inside the house an adult Link is sound asleep, his first break since forever. It couldn't be more peaceful… when suddenly a little boy burst through the door. “Dad! Dad! Get up! I need you!” the boy shaking him. Link rolls over to face him, his eyes still shut, he groans. “What is it Rue?” “Dad! Brother Talon has been taken by a huge bird!” Links eyes shot open, he threw the covers off him and jumped out of bed, tripping over Rue. In a daze he hastily makes his way over to his gear. “No bow, boomerang then!” Link burst through the door outside and sees his son in the distance in the claws of a huge bird. Talon waves to Link “Hey dad! I'm in a bit of trouble!” Link runs as fast he could to close some distance, he winds his arm back and throws the boomerang towards the huge bird. Link holds his breath as he watches the boomerang sore. “It's gonna hit, it's gonna hi-” Talon grabs the boomerang out of the air, Link jaw drops. “Thanks dad! I don't know why I need this, but I'm sure it'll help!” Link starts running and yelling “YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO GRAB IT!” Talon looks at the boomerang and then the bird and then back to the boomerang “I'm sorry! I'll be okay I promise! I'll see y-” Talon got too far for Link to hear him. He stops running, taking a breath in. Rue walks up “You know it's probably a great thing he caught that, a height from there can greatly injure him or worse kill him” Rue then plays his ocarina. Link takes in a breath and puts his hand on Rue's head “You know you're the smartest nine year old I know.” Rue stops playing. “I'm the only nine year old you know.” “True, thank you for waking me up, and can you please tell me where your mother and sister are?” “Mom and sister Keaff went into the kingdom.” “Oh right it's Saturday.” Link takes his head off Rue's head and points to him “Okay we got to go get your brother. Can you get Epona ready while I get dressed?” “Yes I can” “Thank you.” Rue walks away and plays Epona's song. Link runs back inside to get ready.
🐉☀️ "This Wasn't in the Protocol, Kent"
(A not-so-typical adventure starring Jon, Damian… and kryptonite with side effects)
[story collection] <-more stories here
It was a quiet afternoon in the Batcave. Damian sat on one of the lab benches, going over the results of a ballistic autopsy while Alfred passed a tray of tea. Everything in order. Everything calm.
And then Jon walked in.
"Damiaaaan!" he sang, smiling wider than his entire face.
Damian barely looked up.
"What do you want, farmboy?"
"Nothing… just…" Jon launched himself at Damian with overwhelming force and hugged him like an oversized ragdoll. "You're sooo soft!!"
Damian fell backwards to the floor, crushed beneath the warm, muscled weight of his teenage Kryptonian friend. He squirmed—but Jon was spooning him. In the Batcave. With Alfred watching. The horror.
"KENT, HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!" he growled, trying to wriggle free. "GET OFF ME RIGHT NOW!"
"Nuh-uh…" Jon mumbled dreamily, burying his face in Damian’s neck. "You smell like mint and repressed violence… it brings me peace."
Damian froze. The level of humiliation was unspeakable.
"You smell like solar barn, you idiot!"
From the stairs, Alfred cleared his throat politely.
"Might I presume this has something to do with the pink kryptonite fragment I found glowing on the hangar floor, Master Kent?"
Damian’s eyes shot open. He craned his neck just enough to spot a tiny sliver of pink kryptonite stuck to Jon’s cape, right behind his ear.
"DAMN IT!" Damian yelled. "WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!"
"Found it in the hangar… and then…" Jon purred against his chest, "I saw you… and it was like… boom. Look at that perfect little psycho face! And then I hugged you. So hard. And now I don’t wanna let goooo..."
"I AM NOT A STUFFED ANIMAL, KENT! GET OFF ME! YOU'RE LIKE A HORNED-UP SAINT BERNARD!"
Jon didn’t move. He just nuzzled his cheek against Damian’s and whispered:
"You and me… we should live on a farm. You, me, Titus… and a thousand goats. And chickens. And bees. And—"
"I’M GOING TO TAKE YOU APART WITH MY BARE HANDS."
Eventually, Alfred calmly approached with lead-lined gloves, gently removed the pink stone from Jon’s suit, and within three seconds, Jon’s eyes refocused.
"...What? Why am I on the floor? Why am I hugging you?"
Damian shoved him away like he was radioactive.
"STAY AWAY FROM ME, YOU SUPER-POWERED FARM ANIMAL!"
Jon stood up, rubbing the back of his head, still puzzled. Alfred had already sealed the kryptonite fragment in a lead container.
"I believe it was the pink kryptonite, Master Kent. Side effects: disinhibited physical affection and temporarily altered orientation."
Damian wiped his neck with a handkerchief.
"And annihilated dignity."
Jon smiled that sunshine-of-summer smile of his.
"Well, now I know you’re huggable."
Damian growled.
"Say that again and you’ll wake up blindfolded in a Tibetan monastery filled with murder cats."
He would never admit it but…
…that night, Damian sat in silence, gently petting Titus, remembering—just faintly—the warmth of the most ridiculous hug in the world.
Maybe.
Just maybe.
It wasn’t so bad.
Reblogs are more pink kryptonite around Jon conveniently when Damian is around.
Likes mean more hugs for Damian's mental health.
Your feedback fuels Alfred's drive to continue being the best in every way.
☕💚
If this story made you smile (or snort-laugh), you can buy me a coffee to support more chaotic and absurdly soft content like this:
Alternate-ish au, where saeyoung lives alone and his antics aren't just limited to the RFA, but the whole universe shall suffer. (rom-com)
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"Can you help me wear this tie?" you rubbed your eyes, making sure you were actually awake.
It's only been about three days since you have moved to this neighbourhood, and it was 6 am in the effin morning when this man started banging on your door, scaring the shit out of you.
He was looking at you with pleading puppy eyes, not usually voilent but you surely wouldn't mind throwing a punch right now.
Who the hell wakes up their neighbour, whom they've never met before, and don't even introduce themselves or greet properly before--
SHIT, was he some kind of psycho freak? Serial killers do odd things to lure nowadays-
"I know I'm cute, but could you stop staring? I REALLY need to get going, so if i could have my tie tied quickly." he said, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.
She looked him up and down, is scratch a sign for nervousness? or a bad liar? i don't remember shit from that "how body language talks" masterclass whatever-
"Are you crazy? You were about to break my door for a tie!? Who even are you??" she asked, livid.
Meow.
Meow?
Meow.
Her eyes shifting looking around to see the source, and a small kitten popped up from behind the mad tie man.
She sighed
"I'm your next door neighbour, and she's elly, and did she melt your ruthless heart? Perhaps now you'd help me wear this tie? Pretty please?" he said while pouting a little
She noticed his sky blue shirt, and took the black tie from his hand. He came to her height so she could tie it.
Do I have any idea why he isn't tying his tie by how own self? No.
Do I know him? No.
Did he ruin my sleep? Yes.
Do I hate him? Hell yeah!!
And when I was done, and looked back at him as he said something, "You didn't heard my thanks did you, well that's better cause I still could use onemorefavouryk."
He said all the words in such a hurry, that my sleepy mind could barely process what he said. He picked up his cat, giving her into my arms, as I just confusingly stared at what he was doing.
"I don't haveanyonetotakecareofher& you'reamazing,thankssss."
Title: “He Doesn’t Know Who I Am”: a Formula 1 x Kpop fanfiction
Pairing: Jungwon ( ENHYPEN ) x Reader Male
Genre: Comedy | Light Flirtation | Celebrity AU
Warnings: None.
Summary: Jungwon runs into a mysterious, blunt guy at a sponsor shoot in Italy. Turns out, he's one of Ferrari's star drivers. Jungwon, used to people falling over themselves to talk to him, is thrown when the driver doesn't seem to know—or care—who he is.
Jungwon wasn’t used to being ignored.
Not at brand shoots. Not by strangers. Definitely not by tall, broad-shouldered guys in race suits who looked like they’d stepped out of a sports anime.
But the guy sitting at the espresso bar on the studio’s rooftop terrace hadn’t even glanced his way when Jungwon walked past. No double take. No recognition. Not even a “hey, you look familiar.”
Just a sip of espresso. Eyes on the view. Sunglasses annoyingly cool.
Jungwon narrowed his eyes and turned to Sunghoon, who was scrolling through his phone nearby.
“Who is that?”
Sunghoon glanced up. “That? Oh, one of the Ferrari drivers. He’s in the campaign too.”
Jungwon blinked. “He’s the what now?”
“Yeah, he’s fast. And blunt. Don’t bother trying to flirt.”
Jungwon scoffed. “I wasn’t going to flirt.”
Sunghoon looked up with a smirk. “You did the hair fluff thing.”
Jungwon immediately shoved his hair down. “I was fixing it. It’s windy.”
Sunghoon went back to his phone. “Sure.”
Still mildly annoyed, Jungwon walked over to the espresso bar and stood next to the mystery driver, pretending to admire the view. When that didn’t get his attention, he cleared his throat.
Nothing.
Finally, Jungwon spoke. “Nice day, huh?”
The driver nodded, didn’t even look at him. “Not bad.”
Jungwon waited a beat. “I’m Jungwon.”
Another nod. “Cool.”
Jungwon blinked. “That’s it? ‘Cool’?”
The driver finally turned to look at him, lifting his sunglasses just slightly. “Am I supposed to know you?”
Jungwon’s mouth opened, then shut. “I mean… kinda?”
The driver shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t follow influencers.”
“I’m not an influencer.”
“TikTok star, then?”
“I’m in a band,” Jungwon said, deadpan.
“Oh,” you replied, “like Coldplay?”
Jungwon gaped. “Coldplay?! Do I look like Coldplay?”
“I don’t know,” you said, sipping your espresso. “You’ve got a sensitive forehead. That’s very Chris Martin.”
Jungwon ran a hand down his face. “I’m in ENHYPEN.”
“Right. Still don’t know what that is.”
Now Jungwon was full-on offended. “You really don’t know us? We just sold out Tokyo Dome. Twice.”
“I was in Suzuka. Racing.”
“…You’re really not joking.”
You gave him a small grin. “I don’t joke. I brake late.”
“…That’s the most F1 thing I’ve ever heard.”
You raised your espresso in a mock toast. “Cheers.”
Jungwon crossed his arms, determined not to be rattled. “Fine. You don’t know who I am. That’s cool. I’m not offended.”
“You sound offended.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re pouting.”
“I am not pouting.”
You studied him for a moment, then said, “I like the jacket.”
Jungwon blinked. “What?”
“The jacket,” you repeated, nodding to the sleek designer bomber he was wearing. “You pull it off.”
“…Thanks,” Jungwon said cautiously.
There was a beat of silence.
“I don’t like the shoes, though,” you added.
Jungwon gasped. “These are limited edition!”
“They look like they belong to someone who says ‘let’s collab’ as a greeting.”
“Unbelievable.” Jungwon turned to leave, then paused. “What is your name, anyway?”
You finished the espresso and finally extended a hand. “(Y/N). Ferrari’s number one headache.”
Jungwon hesitated, then took it. “Jungwon. Global icon and apparently forgettable.”
You grinned. “I’ll remember you next time.”
Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You better.”
You leaned back against the bar. “Make it worth remembering.”
