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astrolook · 2 days ago

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🌌 Retrogrades in a Birth Chart - Some Roots Take Time To Grow 🌿

Note: These are all my personal observations and patterns I've noticed over the years. Take what resonates with you more and leave the rest. Lemme know in the comments if it hits home! A single placement or aspect isn't enough to conclude and the whole chart has to be analyzed!

Mercury Rx - I think in essays, speak in tweets. 🧠✍️

Mercury Rx natives sometimes overshare or say nothing at all. They think fast, speak slower. They edit their sentences in real life. These natives pick things up quickly but lose focus just as fast. Their projects start strong, then get abandoned or revisited later with a whole new mindset. Mercury Rx can have grand ideas in mind but struggles to put them into words or into reality. Usually, Mercury Rx natives are better at texting, writing, and drawing than talking. Two Mercury Rx people can either understand each other on another level or be completely out of sync with each other and can talk in circles. Mercury Rx natives can change the topic mid-convo and go on like nothing happened. Mercury Rx natives can be good at stirring the pot for entertainment. They are good at negotiating, convincing people to believe their ideas. Can make money out of thin air. These natives have selective memory.

For example: Mercury Rx in 6th/8th/12th natives are so good at twisting narratives to suit their needs and are good at lying. You don't even know whether they're telling the truth or not. Their opinions can change like seasons, and they can struggle sticking to a certain mindset. However, this is a great placement for fantasy writers, journalists, bloggers, media-related jobs in general, lawyers, filmmakers, actors, programmers, etc. Mercury Rx in 5th/11th natives are bad at lying. They can be involved in too many things at once only to abandon them. Mercury Rx in 3rd/9th loves to prank others or the other way around. they love DIY and crafts and might follow niche communities. Online trolls.

Venus Rx - I ghost myself before I ghost you. 👻😅

Venus Rx natives are either impulsive in love or avoidant. These natives give mixed signals to their partners. One day they're warm and giving, the next they're building walls and won't let anyone in. Love either comes too soon, or when the timing is off, or never comes when they need it the most. These natives will remember how the other made them feel, whether it's rejection, not being enough, unwanted, too much, or ignored. It lingers in their mind, and it shapes how they view love. These people don’t “date around” easily. They wait for people to choose them. They test their partner to check if they're worth it! Late bloomers in love. Sometimes, they might even lower their standards and expectations just to feel any love, only to end up feeling drained and exhausted. They might choose partners who treat these natives like a backup plan. However, these natives will remember it and instead of letting go, they carry that disappointment into the next person, the next connection, the next version of themselves. Depression. They sometimes would be loyal to the wrong person just because they have "history."

For example, Venus Rx in 6th/10th can attract envy from women, discrimination in the workplace, judged by their appearance or clothing styles. People might underestimate them or won't take them seriously. So, these natives overcompensate and work overtime to prove themselves that they deserve it. Still, their co-workers/ peers would think they slept their way to where they are or not that talented. Venus Rx 1st can be the target of harassment or could have been called crazy for their lifestyle choices. People tend to attack these natives more easily than others, whether it's racism, appearance, religion, ethnicity, or other factors. They could be either old-fashioned or into niche fashion.

Mars Rx - I argue better three days later. 🕒😐

If a dormant volcano were a person. People think these natives are calm. But no, they're holding it in. Sometimes for years, until their anger turns volcanic and their words spew out like lava. Unfiltered. Their regret shows up in action, not words. They might look or seem lazy, but they often feel stuck between wanting to act and being unsure how. They second-guess their instincts. They might want something badly, then sabotage it out of fear or confusion. In conflict, they’re unpredictable. Either they avoid it completely or burn the whole thing down. Some pick fights just to feel something, others disappear to avoid hurting anyone. They don’t always know the difference between defending themselves and attacking. Sometimes they hurt people with words, then feel guilty forever. Sometimes they say nothing and carry resentment for years. Desire is complicated. Some of them feel numb to it. Others have urges they don’t understand and would be chasing people, projects, or things that don’t make sense. Some isolate when they’re mad. Some turn pain into action like breaking things, quitting jobs, and blocking people. Others turn it inward and self-destruct first. When they finally stop holding back, when they choose action over avoidance, their energy becomes exact. Focused. Intense. Unstoppable. The storm clears, and they learn how to move without destroying everything in their path.

For example, Mars Rx in 8th/12th bury their anger six feet deep. They definitely hold grudges quietly and would strike at the worst time for the person who hurt them. The other person won't even know that the native is behind it. Mars Rx in 2nd can either overspend or hoard things. These natives might not get a reward for their work, or it may be delayed. Mars Rx in 7th can attract passive-aggressive partners or become one themselves. When snapped, they can go from silent tolerance to full-blown blow-ups over small things.

Jupiter Rx - I left faith on read. ✝️📱

Jupiter Rx natives practice 3 different religions within a year and still feel unsure. Teenage crisis. What people call expansion, they call noise. Their lessons come from within, not from gurus or traditions. They don’t believe in blind luck. They believe in trial and error, and mostly error. Wins feel delayed. Guidance shows up late. Things eventually work out, but rarely in the way they are planned or wanted. Once they let go, things would happen to them in the most harmonious way possible. When good things happen, these natives won't give a happy or butterflies-in-the-stomach reaction. Instead, they would be suspicious of it. After believing it's for them, they would still maintain a composed posture. These natives are liberal minded, agnostic/irreligious/atheist, and can still be spiritual. These natives come off as skeptical, cynical, or too “in their own world.” They hold on to past decisions too tightly or judge themselves for outgrowing past beliefs. They often feel like they're behind their peers until one day, these natives get 10 levels ahead of them once they surrender and let things happen. The beauty with Jupiter Rx is that luck doesn't knock on their door. They're the luck. It just takes them years to find that out.

For example, Jupiter Rx in 5th natives' children would be lucky to have the native as their parent. Jupiter Rx in 7th or as 7th lord, their spouse would be lucky to have the native as their spouse. Jupiter Rx in 4th can mean that the native's family would feel lucky to have the native as their child or having them as their family member.

Saturn Rx - I work smart. Or not at all. 🛋️🧠

Saturn Rx natives don't trust authoritative figures, including their own. These natives learn early that rules don't always protect you. they might have a figure in their family who was basically a "rules for thee, not for me" type. Grow up too fast. Responsibility was either too much too soon or avoided until life forced them to deal. Afraid of failure. One thing with Saturn Rx is that when these natives are scared, they would never admit it. They don't want to feel weak. Some might even avoid crying in front of others, including their family. They would go to great lengths to hide their weakness instead of working on it. Build walls instead of asking for help. They stay in jobs, habits, even relationships way past their expiration date just to feel safe. They don’t like being seen trying. Effort is private. So is shame. If they fall, they do it behind closed doors. Smart workers. Knows the shortcuts to achieve success in life, but some won't take them. Impostor syndrome. Can be unemployed for months at some point in their life. Once their career takes off, these natives become unstoppable. Saturn Rx here is protecting these natives from troubled career paths and only gives them the right path at the right time.

For example, Saturn Rx in 7th can mean an absent father figure. Their older spouse can be laid back or take a back seat in their career after marrying the native. Attract partners who are serious and long-term and have little to no options for dating here for many with this placement. Saturn Rx in 10th can mean that these natives can have long gaps in resumes or even unemployment. Might get into jobs that don't reflect their real skills. For some, their career takes off in their 30s or even 40s. Saturn Rx in 2nd can mean that these natives can come from a low-income family or a household with financial struggles. Might get into connections with people just to feel secure. Money grows after 30 and only after they have learned to earn the right way.

Uranus Rx - I forget on purpose. Or do I? 🤫📂

Uranus Rx natives can look traditional on the outside but rebel on the inside. One may never know what these natives are capable of, as they're good at deceiving others. They can easily blend in with the crowd and seem agreeable. Deep detachment, sudden rejections, and quiet cut-offs are their recipe to stay chill. These are the people who smile at the dinner table while silently unsubscribing from the whole dynamic. A Uranus native doesn't trust "the system". But a Uranus Rx native won't even trust their own family, community, co-workers, religions, and even themselves at times. A lot of them appear to follow the rules, but only because they’re rewriting them behind the scenes. These people outgrow people fast. But they don’t always let them know. Instead, they disappear or would make it impossible for them to reach the native. Distance becomes their protection. It’s easier to vanish or become out of reach than to explain their evolution to someone who wouldn’t get it anyway. Their memory is selective but sharp. They forget what they ate for breakfast, lose their keys, ignore calls, but remember exactly what you said five years ago during a fight. Hard to pin down, but impossible to fool. One may never know what they're thinking, but that's what these natives want. When they snap out of the blue, these natives end friendships/ relationships, move cities, shift careers, or even move countries without mentioning a word to anyone. These natives' relationships are either all-consuming or ice-cold. Freedom matters more than comfort. Their unique trait is that they can be loyal and distant at the same time. They’ll ghost you and still think about you every day for a year. Wrong them once, and they will get over you within 30 seconds and never look back. You're already dead to them.

For example, Uranus Rx in 5th can have a crush on someone and obsess over them for months, only to change their mind after finding out that their crush did something they don't like. Would break up with someone over text and not look back. They would reject the same person they fell for before it even begins. Uranus Rx in 7th can be unpredictable in love. Do they even have a type? They long for stable relationships but routine feels like a trap. Uranus Rx in 4th could have had a tough home life or been unconventional. Single-parent households, stepdaddy/ mommy figures, stepsiblings, etc can be seen here in some cases.

Neptune Rx - I’m softer than I look. Colder than you think. 🧊🫀

Neptune Rx people are hard to fully know and half the time, they don’t even fully know themselves. They second-guess what they feel, what they see, and who they are on the inside. Reality blurs. Memory twists. They’ve been gaslit or emotionally manipulated, sometimes without even realizing it. These people learned early how to hide. How to escape. How to shape-shift into what was needed. Truth became flexible, and so did identity. They have powerful inner worlds. Too powerful, sometimes. They’ll fall in love with a fantasy version of someone and ignore all the signs. They’ll convince themselves they’re okay when they’re drowning. They might cry alone and then act totally fine in public. They pick up on energy they can’t explain. Can have imaginary friends or talk to self in private. They talk, sing, and dance when no one's looking. They can actually fake their persona depending on the person they're with. They don��t show the full truth until they’ve seen yours.

For example, Neptune Rx in 4th always dreams of the perfect family, home, and everything since they didn't get it in reality. These natives often move countries/cities and stay away from family members to live their dreams. Might live in a toxic family household where everyone thinks they're fine and happy. Neptune Rx in 8th natives has intimacy issues. They don't know if they're the victim or supposed to feel sorry for the one who hurt them. They're good at reading others, bad at reading themselves. Neptune Rx in 11th natives never feel truly fit in anywhere. There’s a pattern of feeling invisible in groups or being part of social circles that don’t reflect their actual self.

Pluto Rx - I outgrow myself annually. Stay tuned. 🔁🖤

Pluto Rx natives are always going through some kind of inner death. You may not see it, but they’re constantly burning bridges inside themselves. It's like they burn their old versions, dead emotions, people they haven't spoken to in years, and toxicity every year like a ritual. These are the ones who don’t show their breakdowns. They disappear, transform, and return new. The world never really sees their mess, only the rebirth. They upgrade themselves each year. These natives would keep secrets, even from the people they love and trust. They're deep, but not always emotionally open. They fear being exposed, especially when they’re vulnerable. So, they test people. Push them. Watch how they react before deciding if they’re safe. They either face their wounds fully, or they run until life forces them to. Their biggest breakthroughs happen in silence. One year, they’re one person. Next, they’re unrecognizable even to themselves. Physical transformation is possible too. They outgrow people, places, even entire identities, like it’s an annual process. Some might change their name or have a "stage" name in their career.

For example, Pluto Rx in 1st natives are either obsessed over by others or hated by others. Always in survival mode. They rebuild their self-image every season, and no one's ever truly met the real version of these natives. Pluto Rx in the 3rd natives can be good at coding, writing, drawing, etc. Can be cryptic in the way they speak. Ghost friendships out of the blue and would never look back. Pluto Rx in 5th natives pour their trauma into art or through their creative outlets.

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lightmage670 · 2 days ago

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This is probably one of the most stupid and ridiculous military opinions I've seen. Let's start from the beginning of this shit, with the idea that wanting to join the military means wanting to kill people. Yeah, that goes for some, probably the most privileged and out of touch people, but a lot of them need it to have any real opportunity, either for becoming a citizen or paying for college or whatever. Not to mention the propaganda. Any time you see US military equipment in a film, the DOD has a say in the movie's script. Basically all of Marvel is tied to the military, and it's not always obvious. That's not including the ads, which seem to have way better targeting than most other ads, but that might just be my perspective.

Also, how the fuck are you going to say war is bad because Americans die but at the same time say anyone who so much as thinks about joining the military should kill themselves? So what, because I thought about it in elementary school for a reason I don't even remember, I should now kill myself?

Oh and there are still parts of the military that help people. It's not one giant killing machine, and sure some of that's propaganda but it still helps people. There's still humanitarian aid and military projects that benefit civilian populations. That's also one of the reasons people think about joining, it's not all pew pew boom boom or whatever.

And don't fucking tell that person who agreed with you "fuck your grandpa." Y’know, the person who made their family hate the military and all that. We have no fucking clue why he joined, or what war he was in, so maybe offer the benefit of the doubt and say "I'm sorry that all happened to him and I'm glad your family learned from that" or something. Oh and let's go back to that killing and dying thing. So war bad because Americans die too, but Americans should kill themselves and others, potentially their friends, because they think about or gods forbid join the military?

Fuck right off and learn some godsdamn nuance.

kinda insane how common and accepted it is for yanks to just casually mention wanting to join the military. yeah I wanted to kill people because of a videogame. I wanted to kill real human beings because I thought it'd be fun. I would kill human beings who Aren't Real because they aren't American (Real). and you just have to fucking deal with it! especially being arab diaspora like jesus christ it feels like a genuine threat at some points. I wanted to kill people like you. I killed people like you and feel good enough to say it. I think anyone who's ever even thought about joining the US military should kill themselves

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moonlight-lillies · 2 days ago

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you asked for kpdh requests yes? I-- anything with Abby. please i need more of this man, anything with this man.

there's more?! a lot of people fail to realize that there are other monsters in this realm. thank you for your submission! (idk why this took so long, i couldn't think of anything :[, but i got a random wave of creativity!) abs saja (ahn beomseok) x reader! CW: gave abs saja a real name, pure fluff, drabble!, ghost!reader

when you have lived a good life, you die. it's as simple as that. some fall into despair and look for ways to get revenge on those that have wronged them. others, like yourself, are content with how you lived your life.

ghosts are often overshadowed by the demons and the hunters, both having something to fight for; but ghosts, they just live the rest of their life as someone who gets to watch everything unfold.

you wouldn't have met beomseok if you hadn't died. it's a dramatic thing to say, but it is true. you died in 1912, beom sold his soul in 1809, and he was the first demon you met. it was love at first sight.

there are many different dynamics of couples in the monster realm. there's the typical werewolf and vampire, and the ghoul and soul-eater, but ghost and demon was a bit rarer. ghosts rarely invaded the human world, but with watching your boyfriend work to destroy the honmoon, you made sure you were at every concert and promotion.

possession wasn't common but for beom, you would do anything. and he would do anything for you.

sitting at a shrine, looking out at the desolate paths, you both didn't say anything. presence was enough. you had taken your 'idyllic' form, a term basically used for when you're not able to walk through walls.

beom just looked at you, lips parted, but no words formed.

"take a picture, it'll last longer." you deadpanned. tucking your hair behind your ear.

"have you ever thought about what a ghost idol group would look like?" he always did have the weirdest way of saying whatever was on his mind.

"have you ever thought of a jpop ghost idol group?" you responded, nudging his shoulder with yours.

"dope..." he said, nodding his head.

you laid your head on his chest, taking in the night air. beom's hand fiddled with your fingers, some of them popping. he looked down at you, to everyone else he was an untouchable idol, to you he was your other half.

he pressed a kiss to your temple.

"i know i'm not, like, romantical all the time, but i really love you." he breathed out. his eyes meeting yours.

"i know you do." you sat up, grabbing his hand and pulling him up from the bench.

you faced each other, hands interlocked, eyes never leaving each others. you stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. his lips found your forehead, then your cheek, your nose, and then your lips.

you loved when he did that.

a big whirlwind of air sprouted beneath the two of you. leaves and sticks where pushed away as a crack of thunder was heard. but beom didn't move, he pushed himself into you more.

the light headedness wasn't only from the kiss, it was from what was happening around you. the life was sucked from flowers and small sparks of pink danced around hedges. you held onto his shoulders to ground yourself, the patterns that ran up his arms and neck pulsating under his shirt.

it was so dramatic, so romantic, but it was how you knew you two loved each other.

he didn't want to let you go, you didn't want to be let be go.

when you reluctantly pulled apart, there he was in his hanbok. all black, his patterns shining. you looked down, noting the white cloak you now wore, your eyes a pure white, skin glistening.

he offered his arm, the two of you in the forms that you fell in love with. you happily took it.

walking off into a realm far from here.

fin.

#writtenbymoonlight #kpop demon hunters #kpop demon hunters x reader #abs sajax reader #abs x reader #ahn beomseok x reader #saja boys x reader #saja boys

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rjunhuang · 2 days ago

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juliet, o juliet ✰ tim drake

pairing: tim drake x reader

summary: tim gets grounded so you take it upon yourself to get him out. the problem? he doesn't want to leave — he just wants you.

warnings: lowercase intended. fem reader. established relationship. reader is also a vigilante. making out. suggestive. tim is red robin. mention of jason's death. clingy tim.

note: i am his biggest fan. i felt so sinful writing them just MAKING OUT — must be the ace in me. fuck knows how old tim is in current canon but i imagine they're like nineteen in this. also, viet/wasian tim is so real to me — whenever people mention his blue eyes i get jumpscared.

divider by omi-resources | comments & reblogs are appreciated! <3

tim drake had always been the voice of reason.

being reckless was not in his nature. he was wired for precision and hypothesis. out of all his teammates, young justice or anywhere else, he was least likely to mess things up due to carelessness. in fact, tim drake cared too much.

it was exactly why he put himself on the frontlines this time — for the sake of the mission. for the safety of his team. if anyone needed to harmed, let it be him.

and while the mission ended in a success with red robin unscathed, bruce did not like what he came to hear. maybe it was the jason trauma kicking in, but bruce didn’t need his children playing the role of martyr.

so, for the first time in long while, tim was grounded.

no outings. no patrolling. no you.

his brothers took great pleasure in seeing the wayne child, whose image was all about being ‘orderly’, sulk in the confines of his bedroom. tim attempted to slip away many times, but living under a roof filled with security systems and other super-spies, it was harder to escape than arkham asylum in comparison. little damian had no problem reporting to their father if tim’s foot made it even a centimeter past the front door.

lucky for tim, he had a girlfriend who shared a mind of his own. breaking into the wayne manor was difficult — this was batman’s sanctuary, after all. you’d almost gotten your butt fried when hopping past a high voltage trip wire.

truthfully, you didn’t need to be doing all of this. you had access to most, if not every, part of the estate. you even had your assigned room there, whenever you decided to stay over. you were associated to the bats as closely as stephanie brown or barbara gordon. nevertheless, the idea of forcing your way into a place you could practically call your home sounded incredibly appealing for what was a dull wednesday night.

tim only noticed you perched out his windowsill when he heard a small tap on the glass, forcing him to peel his eyes away from his laptop. his personal laptop, of course — bruce knew tim’s biggest hobby was scrolling through the system files to crack any cases.

“nuh-uh.” tim begun to vigorously shake his head. “no. nope.” he pushed himself out of his chair, walking over to the window. “get out.” he hissed lowly, like he was shooing away a stray cat, fanning his hands. to be fair, you did look like one with the cheshire’s grin you held. when he realised you couldn't hear him through the glass, he unlatched it, leaving a crack wide.

tim’s reaction hadn’t faltered you in the slightest. you saw it coming, in fact. if bruce happened to catch you in his room — which was very possible — tim would be blessed to be un-grounded before thirty.

you took the open window as a chance to push your way into his room. your hop was light, feet soundless on the rich wooden floors. it’s been near a week since you’ve last seen your boyfriend. the longest separation since the time you met at the ripe age of fourteen. tim, who had all the strength to do so, doesn’t make an attempt to keep you out. despite all his protests, he was missing you a lot more than he currently let on.

you don’t pay mind to a single word he’s whisper-yelled. instead, planting your hands on his face, diving in to give him a gentle greet on the lips. he couldn’t say a damn thing once your lips landed on his.

his hands automatically found their usual position on your hips, instinctively pulling you closer as he kissed back. he was dying of withdrawal, his body reacted to you like he needed air. the kiss left you giddy, but you managed to pull yourself back before any one of you could lose the plot. staying put in tim’s hold, you asked, “sneak out with me?”

“this is a horrible idea—“ he muttered in a hushed tone. it was evident how badly he wanted to run away with you.

“oh, come on,” you begun, “he’s your dad. he’ll come around to forgive you a lot more easily than you think.” the tips of your fingers brush against tim’s pale face, pining the mere touch of him. it was a deal with the devil — for you were letting your heart get to you and not your head.

but, dammit. how did you making everything so enticing? you were a temptation that he absolutely could not resist.

with a groan, he leaned into your touch. he didn’t want to admit it out loud but he was caving. “he’s already pissed that i went against orders. this’ll just piss him off more,” he protested weakly, despite knowing that he was about to give into you anyway.

“please?” you pleaded, with a weak attempt of what people called ‘puppy eyes’. you leaned in closer to brush your lips against his. “i miss you.”

you had him wrapped around your damn finger — the second those three words left your lips, it was over. his will to resist was crumbling by the second. tim sighed, giving your lower lip a small and playful bite. “you’re the bane of my existence.”

you raised your eyebrows. “isn’t that a bridgerton quo—“ your comment is smothered by another kiss.

tim’s hands shifted to your thighs to lift you up, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. he pressed you against the wall of his room, returning the kiss with fervor. his fingers curled into the fabric of your clothes, clinging to you tightly. “shut up and kiss me.” he breathed against your lips.

your bodies are reacting before your brains do. clearly, the days spent apart had been driving tim up a wall as well. “wait, wait, wait.” you giggled against his lips, “we’re supposed to be sneaking out, not making out.”

tim only groaned when you interrupted the kiss, burying his face into your shoulder. he was so close to completely abandoning the idea of sneaking off to just kiss you until the sun came up. “c’mon,” he whined, “sneaking out is overrated, let’s just stay here and make out instead.”

“gods— you are such an introvert.” said the other introvert — yourself. you rested your head against the wall, absentmindedly playing with the black tufts of hair on tim’s nape. his eyes fluttered momentarily at the feeling of you playing with hair, a small, content hum rumbling in the back of his throat. “i really wanted to go for the whole romeo and juliet aesthetic. except, i’m romeo and i’m trying to get you out and have your father’s approval.”

he raised his head to roll his eyes in an overdramatic effect, though a smile pulled at the corner of his lips while listening to your rambling. “you do know they both die at the end, right?” he teased before pressing another kiss against your collarbone, trailing his lips up towards your jaw. “besides, you’d be the worst romeo,” he said with a gentle nip.

“what?” you dramatically yelped, offended. “would not. i’d totally drink poison for you, or however the play goes. juliet, oh, juliet — let down your hair.”

the sudden and rather loud outburst had tim immediately cupping a hand over your mouth, muffling your next sing-song remarks. “be. quiet,” he said with a small laugh. “you’ll get us caught, dumbass.” he couldn’t help but shake his head slightly. “see? terrible romeo, i’m doing all the work.”

but you weren’t really listening anymore, your eyes narrowing into a knowing, dirty-minded look. the smirk you were currently sporting was enough for tim to get the message. the small smile on his face betrayed the false annoyance, “pervert.” he mumbled, lowering his hand from your mouth to rest it on your hip instead.

“you like this pervert.”

“not the words that come out of that mouth.”

“i can think of other ways to use this mouth.”

“oh, yeah?”

“i can use it,” you paused for dramatic effect, and in a blink, you’re swinging off of tim’s grip, “to eat a good ol’ hotdog at our nearest bodega.” you said the line like a narrator straight out a 60’s commercial.

“you little—“ he started, his hand flailing outwards in a pathetic attempt to grab you again. you snickered at his reaction, too busy collecting your backpack that you slipped off in passing earlier. tim was still pouting like a child as he slumped back against the wall. you took a step closer and swung an arm across his shoulder, dragging him with you to his window.

“a shitty pizza slice sounds so good right now.” he couldn’t help but let out a soft snort of laughter at your excitement for shitty bodega pizza.

tim’s only response was to let out a small smile, muttering, “alright, let’s go get our shitty pizza, then—”

#— rika's works.#tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tim drake x y/n #tim drake #imagine #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #dc comics #dc

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arachnidseyesmoved · 3 days ago

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─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

YOU AND ME

Damian Wayne x Constantine! Reader

A/N: Previous. Next. Damian and reader go on a date!!! That's all that happens, I swear! w.c: 1.8k

You bow with the rest of the performers on stage as the crowd gives one last show of appreciation. When the curtains fall, you very stealthily scamper towards the dressing rooms, not before catching the sly wink Zatanna throws your way.

Maybe you weren’t being that stealthy.

The door to your dressing room clicks shut and you eye yourself in the vanity mirror, only then realising how nervous the girl in the mirror looks. There’s a lot that can go wrong today and a lot you really want to go right. You fix yourself with a look of determination.

With a little twirl and a poof of smoke, your magicians outfit is swapped with the outfit you spent a rather embarrassing amount of time picking out. Before you can fuss anymore over your reflection, there’s a knock on the door.

That was fast, at least you’re not the only eager one. You take a quick, deep breath before opening the door.

Damian Wayne stands in the doorway, he takes you in while you take him in. He’s dressed much less fancy than the last time you saw him, bomber jacket with a simple but probably unnecessarily expensive t-shirt and loose jeans.

“Are you ready?” You ask, unable to fully hide your excitement. You see just the smidgen of a smile on his face as he answers rather seriously,

“I’m always ready for anything.”

“Ooh, Don’t challenge me, Wayne.”

You pull him into the room and shut the door. After knocking three times on said door, you give him a grin.

“You let me plan this whole thing, remember.”

You open the door and step through into an entirely different place. Damian’s sneakers touch cobblestone road and he squints in the sudden sunlight. He thinks he knows already, given the wide bustling streets and the architecture of the buildings around him, but he asks anyway,

“Where are we?”

You’re all too happy to tell him, winding an arm around his and leading him in a seemingly random direction.

“Turin, Italy. I did a mission here a while ago. That’s what we’re going to see first by the way, some good old spooky occult shit, this city has tons of it.”

He lets you drag him to several such occult sights. He listens while you yap about the differences between demonic and non-demonic cathedrals, how to know if a crypt is cursed and which ghost sightings are obviously real and which are fake. He does it all with an attentive mind, almost like he’s reading a book he really likes and he's trying to burn it into his mind.

Once you're done showing him all the "cool shit", you proudly announce that you also planned some things he'd actually enjoy. He keeps the fact that he was enjoying himself the entire time to himself.

You take him to an art gallery, an archaeological museum and a natural history museum. You listen to him yap all about unconventional painting techniques, which period had the best samurai swords and which fun facts about prehistoric animals are actually true and which are completely wrong. You listen with the ear of someone who’s hearing their new favourite song for the first time.

─⋅⋆⁺.

“I get that, but when a magician asks you for your favourite animal and you say "Anaconda." You should at least be a little ready for her to pull out an anaconda! He almost soiled himself on stage!”

Damian huffs a laugh, easing back against the bench you two found that completely coincidentally (as far as he knows) has a perfect view of the sunset. You sit in easy silence, sharing a cup of caramel ice-cream. He looks more at ease than you’ve ever seen him before and an embarrassing amount of pride blooms in your chest at how well your date turned out to be.

You stare ahead at the horizon and wonder if he’s thinking the same thing you are, the thought sparks a bit of unease. Realising you haven’t said something stupid or irritating in a while, you decide now would be a good time to break the fast.

“Do you think the sunset will be this pretty on our wedding day?”

His lips nudge downwards, not quite a grimace but he eyes your smug grin with much annoyance. He sighs and takes another scoop of ice-cream with his little wooden spoon before saying,

“I hope so.”

The teasing grin disappears from your face, and all you can do is gaze ahead blankly. That’s not what he was supposed to say.

You clear your throat and take a bigger than necessary bite of ice-cream, racking your brain for what the hell to say next. After a few minutes you try again, teasing tone more forced than before.

“Do you think Alfred would walk me down the aisle?”

He doesn’t look at you this time, he just stares ahead at the pinkish-orange sky.

“I'm sure he would if you asked. So would my father. He would be glad that at least one of his sons can commit.”

You look ahead too, wishing you could see the view through his eyes instead.

“I'm sure he'd be proud.”

Damian doesn’t have to ask who you’re thinking about when you say that, so he doesn't.

“Would you invite…her?”

He tilts his head up, genuinely thinking through how that would play out despite how ridiculous this complete hypothetical is.

“I don’t know. I’d want to.”

You nod in understanding. Some things are just too complicated to work out in the end. A twinge of sadness settles before you feel the impulsive urge to turn to a lighter topic.

“Titus would make the perfect flower boy.”

He lets a smile slip onto his face, finally looking back at you. The sun leaves little specs of gold in his eyes and you find yourself openly staring (unbeknownst that he’s making the exact same observation). He takes the cup from your hands and places it beside you on the bench. Taking your hand in his, he leans closer and kisses you gently.

His other hand gently holds your cheek. When you part, he stays close. It feels just like those stupid cheesy movies, like a pretentious romance novel, like a sappy love song. But it feels good, good enough that you hold off on the snarky comment for just a few seconds more.

“You know you’d have to make Jon the best man, right?”

Damian groans, pulling back and closing his eyes, acting as if that's actually something he'll have to do. You laugh and lay your head on his shoulder.

“C’mon, He’d be devastated if you didn’t.”

Damian puts his arm around you, keeping you close.

“Maybe I’ll just lie and tell him Arab weddings don’t have a best man.”

You let out a snort,

“Good luck with that.”

You stay like that until the sun sinks behind the distant mountains, replaced by the orange glow of street lamps. Eventually, you stand from the bench, clearing your throat a bit.

“I know I’ve kept you all day, but do you want to grab dinner?”

He stands from the bench as well, throwing away the little ice-cream cup before casually lacing your hands together.

“Anything for my future wife.”

Your heart almost stops. Your brain stammers and so do your words.

“Don’t- Don’t say that.”

“Say what, beloved?”

He asks, looking down at you with a smirk. You very much do not like being on the other side of this dynamic at all. And you know he knows that, he might just be able to feel the heat from your face!

“Stop that-”

Before you can finish, the world stops, literally. Everything slows to a halt. Crickets stop chirping, the breeze stops blowing, all commotion on the street is silenced. Even Damian is suspended in animation just like everything else. Everything except you and-

You’re looking around already, knowing exactly what this is. He used to do this when you were being belligerent on missions. He'd just stop the entire world to yell at you for being a dumb kid, even if he could only do it for a few precious seconds. Nothing for months and he picks now?

You slide your hand out of Damian’s and step closer to where you can see the yellow portal forming.

“You really have bad fucking timing.”

“Language.”

John Constantine steps out of the portal, hands in the pockets of his coat, cigarette in his mouth.

“I need yer help.”

You couldn’t stop the eyeroll if you tried.

“Obviously.”

Why the hell else would he be here. He sighs and takes in his surroundings, looking anywhere but you.

“What are ya even doing here, sight seeing?”

You step back towards Damian and grab his hand, bringing him out of the time freeze. He looks around, taking in the situation with shocking calmness, his expression turns to understanding when he sees John.

“I'm on a date.”

John looks to you, then at Damian, then back to you. It takes him a minute to understand who Damian is and what that means. The cigarette falls out of his mouth as he sputters like an idiot.

“Yer fucking with me.”

“Language.”

He regains some composure when he notices the way you’re looking at him. As if he just remembered how you two left things. That you might actually not want to see him.

“Look, Love, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't an end of the world kind of thing.”

You feel Damian squeeze your hand a little, a reassuring act, an act of trust. There’s a deep understanding between you but with that comes a lot left unsaid. Left in the grey space of "We both understand this so there’s no need to discuss it really.” or is it that you want to talk about it but don’t know how. Being exceptionally gifted kids with exceptional, world-saving parents and bucket loads of trauma isn't something you just bring up casually.

But Damian understands obligation and responsibility. The need to do what’s necessary.

“Fine.”

John sighs, like he actually thought you wouldn’t say yes for a second. The thought brings you more spiteful pride than you’d like to admit.

“Come along then.”

He simply states, before disappearing into his little portal leaving it open for you to follow. Everything slowly returns to normal pace again, the bustle of the street returns as pedestrians keep on like nothing happened. Lucky bastards.

“I’ll call you…when I’m done.”

He nods his head. He’s taking this very well and you’re not sure how to feel about it. He's trying to be understanding, probably because he knows you'd do the exact same thing for him. You barely have to talk about why you have to go, what you have to do… but that doesn't mean you don't want to.

"Don't make me stitch you up again."

He brings you into a hug. You think briefly on how awkward a hug from Damian would have been just a month ago. The thought makes you smile as you burrow your face in his warm neck, breathing in his distinct scent. You open a magic door for him,

“This’ll take you home. To the manor.”

With that you give him one last long look before following your dad into his portal, going who knows where to face who knows what.

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

#damian wayne x reader #constantine! reader #dc x reader #damian wayne x you #damian al ghul x reader #damian al ghul x you #damian wayne

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woozisprincess · 3 days ago

Text

Looking In

Your two closest friends, who are also your otp, are more comfortable around you than anyone else. Like they're really comfortable. Probably too comfortable.

Scoups x Fem!Reader x Woozi

6.4k

Poly fic, fluff, friends to lovers, dense reader, super suggestive, Seungcheol thot activity, CheolHoon argue a lot but it's all in good faith, made Seungcheol really pouty because I like, Jihoon tries to be normal, Vernon listens to your CheolHoon problems, lmk if anything else

--------------------------⊙⁠.⁠☉----------------------------

Whenever Jihoon and Seungcheol were around, you always felt like you were witnessing something that you shouldn't. Moments between them that in no way were intended for the public eye. And for whatever fucking reason, they only seemed to act this away around you. During a group hangout, when the three of you were the first to arrive, it almost felt like you yourself were in the relationship. They giggled and smiled at each other like they shared a secret no one else knew, and then they'd look at you like you were also privy to that secret. You were not. And then as more of your friends filed in, they'd go back to acting how they normally did around people. Still cute, still in love, just much less intimate.

And this has happened multiple times, mind you. Whenever you had the pleasure of third wheeling them for the day, or when you'd stop by Jihoon's place to binge anime while Seungcheol lurked around. It was insane. You felt insane. At first you had fully convinced yourself that you were imagining things, but as time went on, it was clear that it was very real, and that you were the only one experiencing this.

The lovers were undeniably your otp, seeing as you had been rooting for them since Jihoon first let it slip to you that he had a massive crush on Seungcheol. He was all nervous and flustered, made you promise to not say anything. You couldn't help but laugh at how adorable he was being. Did he really not see how Seungcheol looked at him? Truthfully, you're the only reason they're even together. Jihoon was in complete denial that Seungcheol could possibly like him, and Seungcheol couldn't read through Jihoon's Tsundere tendencies for shit. So through meticulous planning, and months of egging the two of them on, they finally confessed to one another. So yeah, you happily take credit.

You assume that's why they're so… comfortable… around you. You really can't find another explanation. You'd always been pretty close to both of them as well, so that's definitely gotta be a part of it. It's just so odd to you.

Well, at least it was odd to you. It's been a year since it all started, and you've grown quite used to their behavior. In fact, you'd even say that you enjoy the special treatment. The way Seungcheol reaches to hold your hand in crowded spaces the same way he does for Jihoon, when Jihoon pulls you as close as he possibly can during movie nights, how they both call you their girl. You don’t think you've even thought about getting a boyfriend since all this started, you really didn't need one when you basically had two. That's why as you sat at your favorite brunch spot with them, you were completely unphased by… whatever they were doing.

You looked at your menu, unsure of what to get this time around. You told yourself that you'd order something different today, but your eyes kept drifting to the Very Berry French Toast that you always ordered.

“What do I even get?” You were mostly talking to yourself, but Seungcheol chimed in anyway.

“I don't know…” He feigned genuine thought as he glanced at his menu. “Maybe we should just order this.” His hand grabbed Jihoon's face, pinching his cheek.

First of all, we is insane, but okay.

Jihoon rolled his eyes, but the flush creeping up his face betrayed him. “You cannot do this every time we eat, the joke is dead.”

“Who said I was joking?” Seungcheol raised his brow.

“Do not-” you closed your menu having decided on your meal. “-start this here, Seungcheol. People are trying to eat.” You were getting the Very Berry French Toast.

“Yeah me too-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jihoon cut off the large man. “Can I please! Just enjoy brunch in peace?”

Seungcheol looked around, once again pretending to think about his answer.

“Maybe… if you give me a kiss.” Seungcheol looked at him smug.

You had no clue how Jihoon did it. Seungcheol was a Leo man. A LEO MAN. But then again, you probably entertained Seungcheol's antics the most.

Jihoon pretended to die, slumping over in his seat and making a cartoonish ‘bleh’ sound. He stayed like that for an entire ten seconds before sitting back up, scowling at Seungcheol, and quickly pecking his lips. Seungcheol hummed triumphantly, fully aware that that was the most he was gonna get in a public setting.

You see, Jihoon would've never done even that if anybody else was sitting across from them. PDA was not his thing at all. But for whatever reason, he could not care less in your presence.

You watched as Jihoon fixed his Jacket after it had fallen from his shoulders due to his award winning death scene. You were actually pretty sure it was Seungcheol’s, a new one of his too. Jihoon sure worked fast.

Soon your waitress arrived to take your orders, quickly jotting down the three meals before scurrying off. As you all waited, you continued with your mindless chatter. Jihoon and Seungcheol held hands over the table and you were very unsurprised when Jihoon eventually reached across to grab your hand as well. You happily took it, you'd have to be insane to turn down Lee Jihoon's open and willing affections, regardless of how peculiar it was. You watched as his eyes lit up just a little bit brighter as he continued to yap about the anime the two of you had finished the night prior.

When the food arrived, they shared with each other, as couples liked to do, and then they shared with you, as they liked to do. You also shared your treasured Very Berry in return. You honestly liked this arrangement, it meant that you could have different meals and still order your tooth rotting breakfast food. A bit of Seungcheol's Hearty beef sandwich, some of Jihoon's healthy chicken salad, all together it balanced out your meal perfectly.

“Maybe you're their third person?”

“Their what?”

You sat on your couch with Vernon as the two of you talked about your mornings, a movie playing on the TV that you've only half paid attention to. Vernon is the only person you've told about your relationship with the couple. He's rational and can keep a secret, making him the best person to vent to when you first thought you were losing your mind. You never point out their behavior anymore, incredibly desensitized to it all, but upon hearing that you had brunch with them, the Aquarius man thought of a new theory.

“Third person,” Vernon said simply.

You blinked at him.

“Please elaborate.”

“Well…” he swayed side to side in thought. “Some couples just have a person they're really attached to, and like to do everything with. Kind of like a pet.”

“A pet?” You squinted. “That's super comforting, thanks, Non.” You muttered sarcastically.

“No problem.”

You never knew if he genuinely didn't understand your sarcasm or if he just didn't care. Either way, it pisses you off.

Obviously, the next logical step was to launch a couch pillow at him. He yelped upon impact and immediately did the same to you.

And so it begins.

Your living room was a wreck by the time you were done assaulting each other with pillows. You knocked over a ton of trinkets, busted one of the pillows, and possibly broke something- something fell off of a shelf with a ‘crack’ but you paid it no mind. You had collapsed on the couch while Vernon found refuge on the floor. You both laughed as you shot stupid insults at each other.

At some point you heard your phone ring, you promptly ignored it after realizing that you had left it on the kitchen counter, and were unwilling to get it. But then it rang again, and then you got a few text notifications. So you begrudgingly got up from the soft cushions of your sofa, and trudged to the kitchen.

Missed call from Leo Man 🤨

Missed call from Baby Boy 🫧

Text from Leo Man 🤨

Hey, cupcake!

Baby and I were going to the mall and you said something earlier about needing new shoes so we thought to invite you! 😍

Lmk wassup!

Text from Baby Boy 🫧

Mall

We'll be outside in 10mins

You sighed. Oh your sweet boys.

You did need new shoes, so you decided to take them up on the offer, though Jihoon didn't seem to be giving you a choice. You let Vernon know what was going on and when you left he showed no signs of actually leaving himself. Strange man.

Just as Jihoon said, the couple was outside in ten minutes. You opened the door and slid into the backseat of Seungcheol's bright red truck.

“You miss us?” Seungcheol mused as he put the car in drive.

“It's been five hours, Cheol.” You deadpanned, strapping your seatbelt.

“So?” The man glanced at you, offended, through the rearview mirror. “We missed you!”

“You know, if you keep acting like this you'll scare her off.” Jihoon furrowed his brows.

“What!? No!” Seungcheol sputtered in disbelief. “I don't scare you, right, cupcake?” He glanced at you in the rearview once again, awful concerned about his boyfriend's comment.

Was Choi Seungcheol big and intimidating? Yes. And he could be down right terrifying if you got on his bad side. But to you? Nah. Big softy. A teddy bear even.

You chuckled at his wide eyes. “No, Cheol. You're bout’ as scary as a puppy.”

“Well that's not…” Seungcheol bit his lip in consideration. “I'm intimidating sometimes.”

“You are so picky.” Jihoon laughed at him.

“Okay but you love me!”

“Ehhh.”

Seungcheol scowled. “Well, ____ loves me!”

“You like, strictly complain around her, so think again.” Jihoon muses.

And now Seungcheol was full blown pouting, his plump, rosy lips jutting out in distaste. Very upset that no one loves him. This wasn't true.

He knew this wasn't true. He pouted anyways.

“Jihoon, ease up, I need him to carry my shit.” You repressed your own laughs to maintain the peace.

“I'll gladly carry your things, cupcake.” Seungcheol stated, still frowning. “Jihoon will have to fend for himself.” He'd turn his head if he weren't focused on the road.

“I'm not buying anything???” Jihoon continued his teasing. “Plus, we all know you'd still carry my stuff anyways.”

Sometimes you forgot how much of a fucking brat Jihoon could be around you and Seungcheol. The man was always so cool tempered and quiet around the masses, but when it was just the three of you, he'd leap at the chance to make Seungcheol pout. Sadism.

“I'm not gonna buy you the new Maple Story packs.”

Jihoon gasped and promptly shut the fuck up. Seungcheol smiled in triumph. He's had a lot of victories today. Unbelievable.

You couldn't help but cackle at their bickering. They've only been together for a few months longer than a year, yet they argued like an old married couple. You sighed as the mall finally came into view.

“Oh my god, why's he pouting now?” You just came back from the bathroom to find that Seungcheol is, once again, upset about something.

Jihoon pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I called him Choi Seungcheol.” he mutters.

You blinked. “Ji… you know better than that.”

“It wasn't even on purpose!”

“Cheol, see? It wasn't on purpose.” You tried to mediate.

“Nah, he said it as revenge for threatening to not buy him new fortnight skins.”

“Why-” No. Nope. It didn't matter. Y'all weren't going anywhere unless this was solved. “Jihoon, kiss him!”

“What, why!?”

“It's the easiest way to make him feel better.”

“You kiss him then!”

You looked at the pale man, appalled. “He's your boyfriend!”

“And? I'm sure he'll be plenty happy if you kissed him.”

“I-” You blinked rapidly at the couple. “-I don't have time for this.”

So you approached Seungcheol, grabbed his face, and planted a big, fat kiss on his cheek. When you pulled away, you saw that your lipstick had smudged, leaving a shotty print of your pursed lips on his cheekbone.

Jihoon leaned over to see, clicking his tongue and muttering a ‘Nice.’

A sheepish smile slowly grew on Seungcheol's face as you let go of him. He held his cheek as he suggested you all grabbed something to eat. Fucking Leo's, man.

As the three of you sat to eat in the food court, Seungcheol still hadn't bothered wiping his face, so you did it for him. He complained as you used a napkin to rub away the lipstick, saying that it was proof that you loved him.

“You don't need proof when I'm sitting right here, dumbass.” You mumbled it mindlessly as you finished with your efforts.

You hadn't noticed that both Jihoon and Seungcheol were staring at you, so when pulled back, your eyes darted between the two, confused.

“What?” You raised a brow at them. “Is there something on my face too?” You joked.

Jihoon blinked at you before locking in on his food. “No, you're good.”

Seungcheol just gave you a giddy ass smile as he went to eat his own food.

Okay then…

You dozed off on the car ride home, only hearing the couple's soft murmurs over the even quieter radio every now and then.

“She's asleep.” Jihoon whispered as he watched over your still figure in the backseat.

Seungcheol hummed in response. “I'm not surprised. We dragged her out twice today.” He chuckled.

“Yeah…” Jihoon's gaze lingered a little longer before turning to sit properly. “So nice of her to come out. Even with all your pouting.” Jihoon couldn't help the jab that escaped from him so naturally.

“Even with all your nagging.” Seungcheol fired back.

Their hushed laughs flowed throughout the truck, much too gentle for the vehicle’s garish appearance.

“Ugh, what're we gonna do?” Jihoon sighed, covering his face with his hands. “She was so cute when she kissed you.”

Seungcheol agreed as he resisted the urge to feel his cheek where the phantom kiss lingered. “And what she said in the food court…” He recounted.

“Oh my goooodddddd” Jihoon whisper screamed. “Shut up, I thought I was hearing things.” He scrunched his face.

“No, she said that.” Seungcheol confirmed.

In his peripheral vision, Seungcheol saw his boyfriend's cheeks puff out to hold his breath, most likely trying to keep from screaming. And they called him the dramatic one.

Seungcheol smiled as he reached over to grab his lover's hand. Even if it all really meant nothing, he was just happy that you were around.

You don't need proof when I'm sitting right here.

Yeah, he was gonna hold onto that for the next forever.

When the car pulled up in front of your apartment building, Jihoon once again maneuvered his body to look at you. “Cupid, you're back home.” He spoke a bit louder than he had previously been.

The couple watched you stir at the call of your name, fully sitting up when Jihoon patted your knee.

“Shit…” You mumbled, blinking the sleep from your eyes. You looked out the window to find that you were, in fact, at home. “Okay.” You yawned.

You undid your seatbelt and then attempted to stretch your arms in the cramped space.

The lovers felt like they were watching a cat wakeup. Slow blinks, quiet yawns, big stretches. It made them feel all fuzzy inside.

You grabbed the paper bag with your shoes, as well as a different bag with a top Seungcheol had bought for you as well. You swung open the car door and shuffled outside. You then stepped over to Jihoon's door, peeking through his already open window. Like clockwork, you grabbed his hand, bringing it to your lips as you've done a million times before. Then you quickly reached for Seungcheol's hand, knowing damn well he'd have a fit if you didn't. He wouldn't be concerned at all with how you were kissing on his boyfriend, more concerned about getting his turn. You couldn't fully reach to kiss him, so you gave his hand a good squeeze.

“Goodnight, boys.” You mumble with a tired smile.

“You have work in the morning?” Seungcheol inquired. You hummed. “I'll pick you up, okay?”

“Mmmkay.” You agreed.

“Night, Cupid.” Jihoon mumbled, leaning back in his seat, also clearly tired from the day. His droopy eyes gave you a cuteness aggression fit that took the will of thousands to not act on in that moment.

With a bit of reluctance, Seungcheol let go of your hand, allowing you to wander off and take refuge in your home. He looked at his boyfriend and they shared a knowing look. Really… What were they gonna do?

You were back to thinking that maybe you were going insane. You had barged into Jihoon's apartment, ready for another anime binge, and when you entered the living area, you witnessed Jihoon essentially pry Seungcheol off of him upon hearing your footsteps. That was normal. Seungcheol, of course, was never the kind to give in so easily, so he continued to kiss his boyfriend all over his face and neck as he tried to greet you. Also normal. Seungcheol's response to Jihoon's complaints of you standing right there as you waited for them to finish their little show, was to offer you to join. Still normal.

The lustful glances at you? Weak. The way Jihoon basically moans as Seungcheol's lips refuse to leave him? Been there, done that.

So what on god's green earth could've possibly struck you as odd? When Seungcheol grabbed your arm and pulled you to sit between the two of them. So simple compared to literally everything else you just witnessed, but it was the only thing that was out of the ordinary. Seungcheol usually got up and wandered further into the apartment as you flopped on the couch next to Jihoon. If the large man ever did come back, he'd take the seat on the other side of Jihoon. So yeah, it was pretty surprising when you found yourself pressed between the two of them like the cream in an Oreo.

Vernon's old theory about them being swingers came to mind. You'd debunked it saying they would've made a move forever ago. And it was true, swingers weren't exactly known for their patience. So as you looked at the two of them, Jihoon leaning on you as he turned on the TV to play the show, Seungcheol's arm falling behind you on the couch, you accepted that this was now a part of the routine.

Other than that, the night was pretty normal. You found yourself laying across the lovers as the episodes went on. You and Jihoon hummed and gasped at the TV, occasionally pausing to stand up and rant about something stupid a character did. Seungcheol laughed at the two of you, saying that ‘It was just a show,’ and that you both needed to calm down. Two sets of eyes glared at the Leo, immediately Jihoon reminded him of how he acts when his favorite team loses a game.

“That's real.” Seungcheol huffed, crossing his arms.

“It's a game!” You shouted at him in disbelief from where you had stood to announce your irritation. “It's literally grown men kicking a ball around!” You gestured wildly.

“Those grown men are skilled, and deserve a win!” He shot back.

“Obviously not if you're crashing out every other night because they can't get one!”

Jihoon cackled at the two of you, falling back on the couch and kicking his legs in the air. “It's true-” Jihoon wheezes trying to catch his breath. “They never win!” He clutched his stomach.

You stood up straight, basking in your victory. Not today Choi Seungcheol. Seungcheol rolled his eyes and pouted, but he still let you flop your legs over his lap without complaint.

You tried to continue the show, but the three of you kept giggling about whatever you were talking about. And as the hours rolled by, and you all grew more tired, you decided it was time to sleep.

Seungcheol threw you over his shoulder, and hauled you to the bedroom when you attempted to walk home at the unholy hour. You could only sigh as you locked eyes with Jihoon who giggled as he treaded closely behind the two of you.

Seungcheol plopped you on the bed while Jihoon went to grab you some of his clothes to use as pajamas. The apartment once had a guest bedroom, but Jihoon had turned it into his photography studio a few years back, leaving only the one room. You never understood why they made you sleep in the bed with them when the couch was still perfectly fine, but you've learned not to question things.

This is just how things are. This is just how they are. And even in all their behaviors, they've never once made you feel uncomfortable, so what was the point in fighting it? You surely couldn't think of a good reason as you slipped on one of Jihoon's oversized shirts, and tied on a pair of his shorts. You exited the bathroom and flopped on the bed where the couple was already cuddling. You'd think the bed would be too crowded, but for whatever reason, Jihoon owned the biggest mattress on the market. Said something about liking his space. Ironic seeing as he drags you and his boyfriend into bed whenever possible.

Jihoon pulled you into the cuddle sesh with little thought.

“Nooooo, you guys run hot.” You whined as you weakly pushed his arms away.

“Yeah we do.” Seungcheol mused.

Well… he wasn't wrong.

Ultimately, you ended up laying on Jihoon's chest with Seungcheol’s arm thrown over the both of you, you all chattered mindlessly while drifting off.

“All this mattress…” You began. “And you guys insist that we sleep like shivering kittens in need of each other's warmth.” You complained half heartedly.

“Awww.” Jihoon cooed at the mental image, his hand running up and down your back. “Those poor kittens.”

“The kittens aren't real, Ji.” You mumbled.

“They are somewhere.” He whispered.

You heard Seungcheol, who you thought was asleep, chuckle at the two of you. “You're both my kittens.” He asserted in a hushed tone.

You rolled your eyes at how cheesy the man was. You didn't bother commenting, but Jihoon sure did.

“That was so fucking corny, babe.” He scrunched his face.

This only made Seungcheol laugh, his mission to make you cringe a success. “I'm glad you think so, babe.”

“Can you like, not, babe.” You tacked onto the ‘babe’ train happening.

“Mmmm, only if I get a kiss, babe.” You don't think there's been a day since you met Seungcheol, that he hasn't demanded kisses from you, or anyone else in the vicinity. The man was such a thot. But hey, If you could pull the way he could, you'd probably be one too.

“How about you both go to bed…” Jihoon chimed in. “Babe.”

You snorted at the delay. He tried not to give in, but he couldn't help himself.

Seungcheol sat up a bit, leaning on his elbow so that he could kiss you and Jihoon. One on Jihoon's lips, one a bit close to yours as he whispered ‘love you's.’

In that moment, as you all were finally falling asleep, a thought dawned on you. One that, perhaps, should've come to you a year ago. Maybe you weren't just their third person, a fortunate witness to their love for one another. Maybe you were their third person, a receiver of the love and devotion that you thought the two of them only held for each other. Your brows furrowed as you pushed the thought aside. Not now. Go to sleep.

The next days were… odd. Even more so than usual. The couple wasn't even doing things out of their ordinary, you were just looking at the things they were doing differently. You really tried to push it away, tell yourself you were crazy, but it was no use. Even the level headed Hansol Vernon Chwe, was of no help to you.

“Why didn't I think of that!” Vernon gasped in realization.

You went to him for rational thought, not one of his convoluted theories. But here you were, head in your hands as he further entertained the idea.

“I guess I assumed that they were only exclusive to each other without considering the possibility that they'd be open to a third partner that third partner specifically being you of course because why else would they act all lovey dovey with you unless they wanted you in the relationship as well it actually makes complete sense but we overlooked it due to our closed minds refusing to see-”

“Vernon, literally if you don't shut the fuck up I'm going to rip your tongue out.”

Vernon paused his ramblings, clearing his throat. “All I'm saying, is that I think you clocked it.” he raised his hands in surrender.

You groaned, falling back onto your couch in defeat. “What do I dooooooo?”

“Well… what do you want to do?“ Your friend leaned back into the corner of the couch he always claimed.

What did you want to do? As odd as you felt it all to be in the beginning, you accepted the matter without complaint. And slowly, but surely, the couple had been ingrained into your life, almost like you were a part of the relationship. Always just a boundary or two away from being able to say you were in a throuple. You were perfectly okay with all of it. But you hadn't ever thought about actually being in the relationship. You cared for them both very dearly. Jihoon was your oldest friend, and Seungcheol had thundered his way into your life with a conviction and stubbornness that only he could possess.

Truly, you're grateful to be attached at the hip with them. You always called them ‘your boys,’ because it really felt like they were yours. They were a way around you that they only were with each other, and you took pride in that.

“I mean-” Vernon piped up once again. “-you’re basically dating them already, why not tack on the title and it's added benefits.”

True, true.

In order to fully understand yourself, you thought about your life if you decided to turn them down. A life where they treated you like everybody else. That is if they even still spoke to you. Yeah… no. Not doing that.

Throuple it is.

The next time you hung out with the couple, your were practically shaking with nerves. You really had no clue what to say. You considered calling and telling them you were sick, but you realized that they'd probably drop everything to coddle you. Vernon, who never seemed to leave your home, basically wrestled you out the door.

“What if I'm wrong!?” You screeched as he pulled you into the hallway.

“Trust me! You're not!” He huffed as he finally got you close to the elevators. “They want that cookie, ____!” He pushed into the first elevator that opened.

You could only gawk at his words. Foul mouthed boy.

So here you were, in Jihoon's living for what was likely the millionth time, nervously chewing on popcorn while the couple argued about what movie you should all watch. Seungcheol wanted an action movie that you didn't catch the name of, and Jihoon wanted to watch an animated movie that was likely going to make you cry.

Jihoon turned to you with a fire in his eyes. “We won't watch either then! Cupid, you pick!”

Your eyes widened at being addressed so suddenly. You looked between the two of them with furrowed brows.

You picked Howl’s Moving Castle. Seemed like a good in between. Speaking of in between, guess where you were. Sandwiched between the beefy men once again. No surprise there. You watched diligently as Howl whisked Sophie away from the predatory soldiers. The lovers seemed much less invested in the movie they've seen a hundred times, chattering with one another quite literally behind your back. You didn't mind of course, the film was pretty much tattooed on your brain as well, so every now and then you'd hone in on their conversation before going back to focusing on the TV.

You were also plotting. Well… attempting to plot. You still had no clue on how to go about letting them know that you're privy to their own schemes. Do you just say it? Like ‘hey, I know you guys want me, let's do this shit.’ That seemed… not ideal. What if-

Your thoughts were cut off by a small gasp followed by Jihoon's voice. “Seungcheol!”

“Don't Seungcheol me!” The elder's hand flew over his chest, as if wounded.

“Stop being a freak while Howl’s Moving Castle plays!” Jihoon fires back.

The two of them got louder. You only leaned back, trying to decipher exactly what just happened.

“I was just saying!” Seungcheol defended.

“____ is literally sitting between us! Have some decorum!”

“Ain't nothing she ain't heard before!”

Ah okay. Seungcheol was being freaky again. Checks out.

Normally, you'd just kick back and laugh as they went on and on. But today, you were arguing with your own demons, really taking in what was being said in reference to you. Seungcheol was always a flirt, minding at all if you were there to witness sexual way he spoke to his boyfriend, and he always “joked” about including you in their… activities. But Jihoon was keen on not scaring you away with Seungcheol's raunchy behavior. It was one of the things that had confused you a lot in the beginning. Seungcheol's behavior was far from appropriate, but Jihoon was less worried about his man saying sexual things to you, and more worried about you not wanting to be around them anymore. You shrugged it off as a joke seeing as Seungcheol had always been kind of a hoe.

“Oh look what you did, the poor girl is frozen.” Jihoon took in you stiff appearance, convinced that they'd really fucked up this time. “You've actually scared her this time around.” His voice actively became more gentle, in fear of you running off.

Seungcheol's face visibly softened. “Shit. I'm sorry, ____, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” He slowly made some space between the two of you, Jihoon followed suit.

You blinked trying to collect your thoughts. “That's not-” You looked at him, taking in how sincere he was being. “I'm not… I was just-” Damn, if only you could form a fucking sentence right now.

The concern on Seungcheol's face only worsened with every second that passed. Jihoon ever so gently places a hand on your shoulder. You turned to face him.

“Hey, it's okay. We know we're a lot. Just… you can tell us if it's too much.”

“No! That's not it!” You shot up from your seat, spilling the popcorn in your lap. You'll clean that up later. “I'm not uncomfortable!” You asserted.

The lovers looked at you, surprised by your outburst.

“I just- fuck, how do I say this?” You scratched at your head hoping to form a tangible thought. “You guys… have always been this way with me. And I've always kinda wondered why… and I think that I've finally put two and two together.”

You glanced at them to try and gauge their reactions, but other than furrowed brows, their expressions gave away nothing. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you continued.

“Call me crazy if I'm wrong.” You chuckled nervously. “But is there a chance… that maybe you both-” Your heart was beating out of your chest. This was it, now or never. “-have feelings for me?”

You flinched at your own words, squeezing your eyes shut. You couldn't bear to look at them. What you just said was insane, it was even more so to say to their faces. You readied yourself to be called an idiot and laughed at, or worse, they just look at you awkwardly and ask you to leave. Oh just the thought made it hard to breathe.

“____.” A gentle voice called your name. You finally opened your eyes to find Jihoon standing in front of you with Seungcheol right beside him. “Hey, you're not crazy.” He shook his head, a small smile on his face.

“We're literally insane about you.” Seungcheol added.

Jihoon shoved the taller man in his side, his eye twitching. “Tone it down!” He said through gritted teeth.

You chuckled at the antics, even in your state of semi panic. You adored these fools. The lovers smiled as your laugh reached their ears.

“It's okay if you don't feel the same, we-”

“Are you kidding!?” You cut off Seungcheol. “As integrated as I've been in this relationship, I'd literally cry like it was a real breakup if it ended here.” You ran your hands down your face, exasperated. All that anxiety for nothing.

Seungcheol could no longer help himself. He launched at you, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tightly. You'd hug him back if you could move your arms. He quickly pulled Jihoon into the hug as well, making sure you were all pressed together like pancakes.

“This is great, Cheol.” You coughed out. “But my lungs are collapsing.”

When Seungcheol showed no signs of moving, Jihoon pinched his side, causing him to yelp.

“What the hell, baby!?” Seungcheol cried out.

“You're gonna kill her before we can even make her our girlfriend!” The pale man scowled.

Seungcheol messaged his side. “Yeah… that would be bad, wouldn't it…” He muttered mindlessly.

You found yourself laughing again. Jihoon pinched the bridge of his nose as Seungcheol collected himself.

“Can we do this?” Jihoon pleaded.

“Yeah okay!” Seuncheol started, determined. “How?”

Jihoon's eyes went wide. “Like we practiced, Cheolie!?”

Practiced? All this effort to ask you out? You were extremely flattered. Truthfully, you would've been satisfied with a ‘be our girlfriend.’

“I know, but I can't remember what I'm supposed to say, baby. I'm sorry.” Seungcheol scratched his arm.

Jihoon blinked a few times. “Okay… that's fine.” Jihoon comforted, placing a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Just ask her.”

“Me? Are you sure you don't want to?”

“I'm going to punch you in your beautiful face.”

“Okay! Okay! Understood!”

“Hey, guys?” You spoke up, doing your best not to fall out from how cute they were being. Just the sweetest guys. They looked at you with big, hopeful eyes. “I was wondering if the two of you wanted to be my boyfriends?”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely!”

Both voices hit you at once. You could only beam at two men standing in front of you. “Well that was easy.” You giggled.

“Yeah, and it only took you a year.” Jihoon scrunched his face at you and crossed his arms.

“Hey!” You pointed at him. “Don't give me that! I was being decent!”

“Cupcake.” Seungcheol chimed in, leaning on Jihoon's shoulder. “There was nothing decent about any of this.” He raised a brow at you.

You thought back to all of what was essentially soft core porn you witnessed, and could only nod in agreement. None of this was decent.

“Just because you two are whores, doesn't mean I had to be one.” You raised your brow in judgement.

“If you stuck around to watch, I think that makes you just as much of a whore as we are.” Jihoon narrowed his eyes at you, his lips quirked into a smirk.

Well then…

You looked down at your feet, taking note of the popcorn that still needs to be cleaned up.

“I should clean that up.” You mumbled.

Seungcheol wheezed at the topic change as he moved to do it for you. “I got it, my love.”

Oh. My love. You could get used to that.

Jihoon flopped onto the couch, ensuring to pull you down with him. He basically wrapped around you like a Koala. You reciprocated, tangling your limbs with his and giggling as you watched your boyfriend clean.

Ooh that had a nice ring to it. Your boyfriend. Your's and Jihoon's boyfriend. You and your boyfriend's boyfriend. Yeah that's good stuff.

Seungcheol soon joined the two of you, enveloping you both in his large arms with ease. It helped that you and Jihoon had essentially merged into one person while he was cleaning. Howl's Moving Castle was about half of the way through, and the three of you let it play just to talk over it some more.

“Did you really do that?” Jihoon's eyes widened in horror as you told him about how they had Vernon to thank for being in your presence tonight. “You're neighbors probably heard.” He held his hand over his mouth, immensely worried about the social implications.

“And it only got worse when he screamed ‘they want that cookie.’” You looked off into the distance with a thousand yard stare as you thought about your poor nextdoor neighbors, Mrs Song and her husband. Awful, just awful.

Jihoon choked on air, coughing into his hands. “What!?”

“Well he wasn't wrong.” Seungcheol commented.

“Cheol!” Jihoon slapped his arm.

“Oh my god, she's our girlfriend. What more could you want?” Seungcheol groaned.

“I don't know, maybe buy her dinner first, you freak!” Jihoon scolded.

“We buy her dinner! Often!”

“A proper date! We have to take her on a proper date! Then we can talk about whatever…” Jihoon gestures vaguely at Seungcheol. “This is!”

“What does that even- you know what, never mind.” Seungcheol waved him off. “You weren't even this by the book when we started dating. If I remember correctly, you basically begged me to-”

“Genuine question.”Jihoon cut him off. “Do you ever shut the fuck up? Just genuinely.”

You could not breathe. That's how hard you were laughing. Tears pricked at your eyes as you gripped Seungcheol's arm to find some sort of stability. You hadn't noticed the conversation came to a halt until you managed to catch your breath. You blinked away the tears in your eyes and noticed Seungcheol and Jihoon looking at you. Their eyes were all sparkly and wide, and they had soft smiles on their faces.

“What?” You breathe out.

“Nothing.” Seungcheol spoke up. “We're just… so happy that you're here.” Jihoon hummed in agreement.

You felt your heartbeat quicken. You looked at two lovers, your two lovers, with a full heart. And you were damn happy to be there.

(⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

A/N I really just wanted some CheolHoon in my life. I'm pretty vague about describing people's reactions so I'm trying to get better at that, but I hope I do a well enough job for now. Don't even talk to me about describing surroundings. Plans to expand upon this lil au. Moments with Seungcheol, Moments with Jihoon, make out sesh, bc they don't actually kiss in this, and that's kinda criminal.

But anyways, Thank you for reading! If you liked it, tell me in reblogs or comments! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

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syrecjh · 3 days ago

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──୨ৎ💋ྀིྀི The Kiss Dare

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ || katsuki bakugo x reader

(A request)

The dorms shimmered with laughter, golden light, and the leftover adrenaline of victory. It had been a long week—villains cornered, civilians saved, exhaustion worn like second skin—but tonight, the halls of Heights Alliance pulsed with celebration. Music thumped low, Kaminari’s playlist setting a mood that was somewhere between chaotic and euphoric, while the scent of snacks, spilled soda, and sugary sweets laced the air.

You were caught in it all—half a cupcake in one hand, leaning back against the arm of the couch, laughing so hard your ribs hurt. And next to you, the real danger simmered quietly: Katsuki Bakugo.

He was sprawled just the other end of the couch, legs wide, eyes half-lidded, the corners of his mouth tugging into that smirk he only ever wore when he was enjoying himself and didn’t want anyone to know. Every now and then, your knees would brush. And every time they did, you’d lift your chin and shoot him a sly look, and he’d grunt something like, “Watch it, dumbass,” but there was a glint in his eye that gave him away.

It was playful, the way he’d tug the end of your sleeve or whisper something only you could hear, just to see your face go hot. It was dangerous, the way your breath caught in your throat every time his voice dipped too low. But it was familiar. Addictive. You danced this line often. Tonight, it was razor-thin.

The teasing was light. Casual. Like always. Something about how he nearly tripped earlier when Kaminari threw a pillow at his head. Something about how he still hadn't fixed that crooked zipper on his combat gear. He grunted. You smirked.

But then your smile shifted—subtle, dangerous. A little slow-burn devilry in your eyes.

You leaned in.

Closer than before. Close enough to see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the twitch of his jaw as he froze ever so slightly. He stilled like a wire pulled taut, and for once, you held the silence longer than he did.

“There’s something on your face,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, like a secret pressed into the space between your mouths.

His eyes flicked down. Then back up. Narrowed.

You smirked, slow and wicked. “It’s smugness. Let me get it.”

And then, just as your breath ghosted over his cheek—just as his fingers twitched like he didn’t know whether to pull away or pull you closer—you leaned back.

Far too quickly.

Grinning.

And he blinked, stunned. Mouth parting in protest, a word teetering on the edge of a curse.

“What the hell—?”

But before he could finish, Mina swooped in from the side like a hawk spotting shiny drama.

“There you are!” she squealed, grabbing your hand without hesitation. “Enough flirting with Boom Boy, come gossip with us.”

“Flirting? Who’s flirting?” you tried to sound casual, but your voice betrayed you.

You yelped as she dragged you off, laughter tumbling from your throat like confetti, and over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of Bakugo still on the couch—jaw tight, scowl deeper than the Mariana Trench, ears flushed red.

You winked.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

But his knuckles were white against his knees.

And that was enough.

Mina dragged you toward the corner where the girls had gathered—Sero’s bed turned into a throne of gossip and secrets. Ochako, Jirou, Hagakure. The glitter-eyed circle of whispers and shrieks.

You kinda missed the warmth of Bakugo’s arm against yours almost immediately.

But it didn’t matter, not for long. Because like fire to kindling, Mina had an idea that caught faster than you could blink.

“Truth or dare,” she announced, devilry in her grin. “Just us, just girls. For now.”

At first, it was innocent—Jirou dared to sing into a hairbrush, Uraraka forced to confess a childhood crush. But like all good storms, it built. And just when things were getting deliciously embarrassing, the boys started arriving.

Sero, nosey as always, pretending he just happened to walk by. Then Kaminari, smelling mischief. Then even Todoroki, who insisted he wasn’t playing but still sat down. Iida tried to object, but even he caved under the weight of collective pleading.

And then—Bakugo.

He didn’t say anything as he walked over, just glared at the circle like it had personally offended him, then dropped down accross you, long legs folding lazily, shoulders a tense line. You tried not to look at him.

Truths became more pointed.

Dares more vicious.

“Who do you think is the hottest in class?”

"If you wanted to make out with someone at school, where would you do it?"

“Call your crush and confess.”

“Eat this horrifying combo Sato just made.”

"Take the socks off the person sitting across from you and wear them on your hands for the rest of the game."

"Call the third person on your contact list and say, “I think I might fart,” and then hang up."

And then the circle spun, and the bottle pointed at you. Mina, eyes wild with chaos, leaned in. “Truth or Dare?”

You hesitated. Because you knew. If you picked truth, they’d ask, they'd ask ridiculous questions and you want thrill.

So you lifted your chin and said, “Dare.”

Mina’s smile widened, wicked and bright "You sure?”

“Positive."

Mina grinned like a shark sensing blood. "We’ve all seen the tension. We’re doing this.”

“Do what?” you asked, knowing full well she had murder in her mouth.

She grinned. “Kiss Bakugo.”

The room gasped like it was watching a scene in a romance movie—one of those slow-motion moments right before everything unravels. Kaminari whooped. Ochako’s eyes widened. Kirishima dropped the handful of chips in his mouth. Someone yelled “LET’S GOOO!” and Sero started drumming a war beat on the floor.

You blinked once. Laughed, sort of. “What?!”

But you didn’t get to say more. You didn’t get to stammer out a protest or stall for time, because he was already standing.

Bakugo was already walking toward you, lazy and confident, like this was a choice he’d made before Mina had even spoken. Like he’d been waiting for it.

You froze.

He didn’t.

He stopped in front of you, eyes dark and unreadable, voice low.

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out now,” he muttered, tilting his head, something dangerous curling at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t think you were that weak.”

And before you could scoff, before you could spit something sarcastic back—

His hand curled into your collar.

And he kissed you.

Not softly. Not carefully. Not like someone testing the water — but like someone who had been holding back for far too long and finally stopped caring. His mouth on yours was heat and noise and pressure, the world collapsing down into a single spark that started somewhere in your chest and spread through your fingertips.

You didn’t know how long it lasted. It could’ve been seconds. Could’ve been centuries.

All you knew was that when he finally pulled back, you were breathless.

And the room had gone completely, utterly still.

And then—

“Knew it!” Kaminari yelled.

“Called it,” Mina gasped, fanning herself.

“Damn,” said Kirishima.

Bakugo didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look at them. He just stared down at you, your shirt still bunched in his hand, lips still too red, and said—

“You’re not backing out now.”

His voice was rough. Quiet. Honest.

“You started this.”

Then he turned, still gripping your hand, and tugged you up.

Bakugo glanced down at you, eyes dark with something unreadable—want, defiance, heat.

“Come on,” he said,

You blinked. “Where?”

“Don’t care.” His lips twitched into a smirk. “Anywhere but here.”

And you took it.

Because deep down, you always knew this game wouldn’t end with just a dare. It never could, not with him. Not with the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching, or the way his fingers twitched when they got too close to yours.

The dorms echoed behind you—cheering, shrieking, someone yelling “FINALLY”—but you didn’t look back.

Because some fires don’t burn you.

Some just make you feel alive.

And this one?

This one had been smoldering for a long, long time.

You hadn’t just kissed Bakugo.

You’d lit the fuse.

And now?

There was no stopping the fire.

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psycholuvrgirl · 2 days ago

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the 6 date disasters: the chaperone | series masterlist

featuring... megumi!

summary: a romantic night in takes a turn when your teacher shows up.

warnings: heated make out scene, no actual smut though

a/n: i think i'm going to change my dividers...

megumi planned this whole thing out. but megumi doesn’t plan dates, he stumbles into them. he just asks to hang out and ends up making the whole ordeal romantic without trying to.

but not tonight. tonight is intentional.

his dorm is clean. and not normal fushiguro clean, it’s too clean. the room is clear of anything that could make it look lived in, bed made, not a speck of dust or dirt in the room. soft music plays from the speaker you bought him ages ago, some instrumental playlist that he spent hours on. the lights are low, a few warm candles flickering on the shelves. he looks nervous.

and very, very pretty.

his jaw is tense, his eyes flickering to you and away again. he wears a soft black shirt that you’ve never seen before, but it looks perfect on him. when you show up and smile a real smile, he flushes so fast that you think he might combust.

you know exactly what tonight is. or at least what tonight is supposed to be, and you want it just as badly.

so you don’t make him say it out loud. you let things unfold the way he clearly wants them to, slow and soft. like the moment is sacred, because it is.

at first, you sit close to one another, legs brushing. you talk and sip on tea that you can barely taste, but the conversation is quickly replaced with long, weighty looks and quiet stillness.

when he finally leans in, you meet him halfway.

the kiss starts sweet, gentle, and familiar. but then your hands slide up his chest and he makes a sound in the back of his throat. his fingers curl tightly around your waist, and just like that the entire mood changes.

his tongue slips into your mouth as his hand finds your thigh. he tugs you onto his lap and it all happens so fast. your bodies move like a perfectly choreographed dance, tension finally snapping loose. you’re straddling him, hands in his hair, mouth hot against his.

“are you sure?” you murmur, just in case.

megumi nods. “yeah. i’ve been— fuck, i’ve been thinking about this all week.”

that does something to you, making your eyes widen and your stomach do a flip.

he tilts his head, kissing down your neck. his grip on your hips tightens and you shift against him, pulling a groan from his lips. his hands slide up your shirt and your heart pounds. he’s hard under you, you can feel it.

and then… knock knock.

you both go still, looking at the door.

“don’t,” he whispers. “don’t answer it.”

“i wasn’t gonna—”

then the door flies open.

gojo’s voice rings out, loud and casual as always. “oh, megumi,” he says in a sing-song voice, dragging out the end of the name. “i brought those snacks you like. also, we need to talk about your training schedule because—” he pauses when he looks up from the grocery bag, blinking. “oh.” he takes in every detail. you in megumi’s lap, your shirt pushed up with megumi’s hands still under it. gojo beams. “wow. about time, huh?”

you scramble off of him, trying to fix your clothes.

“get out!” megumi shouts.

gojo flops down onto his bed, megumi’s bed, with absolutely no remorse. “relax. i’m just here to check in, you weren’t answering your texts.”

“because i was busy,” megumi growls out.

gojo’s already unwrapping a candy bar. “clearly.”

“how did you even get in? i locked the door.”

“i have a key,” gojo says simply.

you sit on the edge of the bed, stunned to silence by the entire situation. you glance at megumi, who looks one inconvenience away from a felony.

he storms over and grabs gojo’s arm. “get. out.”

gojo remains limp on the covers. “you’re so tense, fushiguro. it’s unhealthy. you need to talk more about your feelings instead of getting so physical. well, maybe getting physical is just what you need—”

megumi drags gojo halfway off the bed. “i swear to god—”

gojo swings his legs off the mattress and opts to lean against the desk. “okay, okay. i’m going. but seriously? proud of you for finally getting laid.”

“we weren’t—” you protest.

gojo grins. “don’t lie to me. i walked in on a scene straight out of a fanfic. candles? music? fushiguro, you romantic dog.”

megumi looks like he might pass out.

you bury your face in your hands. “please leave.”

gojo waves as he steps out the door. “alright, alright. i’ll be in my room, being lonely and unloved.”

“have fun with that,” megumi sneers, slamming the door shut and locking it. he lets out a groan as he slumps onto the bed. “i’m going to kill him.”

you sit beside him and slip your hand into his. “you tried to kill him.”

“i had a plan for tonight,” he mutters. “a whole plan!”

you glance down at his lap and notice that he’s still… affected.

you bite your lip, looking up at him through your lashes. “we could still salvage tonight.”

he turns to look at you slowly, hope in his eyes.

“besides,” you say, “he won’t come back, and everyone else is out on missions.”

a grin creeps up on megumi’s face. and then he leans back in for a kiss.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi x reader #jjk megumi #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader

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keraiiszn · 1 day ago

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ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ x ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

It all started at 3:12 AM, when I woke up feeling like my uterus had a personal vendetta against me. Like it had been plotting this moment for nine months, sitting in meetings with my back, my bladder, and my ankles, strategizing on how to make me suffer.

I didn't scream. Not yet. I just laid there breathing heavily like I'd just done a HIIT workout while eating a burrito, and whispered, "Oh no." Because I knew. I KNEW this wasn't Braxton Hicks. This was the real deal. The baby was clocking in for his shift, and he was apparently the type of employee who shows up early and ready to WORK.

"Elijah…" I nudged him with the gentleness of a mother waking her child for school.

He snored. Not just any snore—the deep, satisfied snore of a man who had eaten a full plate of his mama's mac and cheese and watched two episodes of The First 48.

"Elijah," I said louder, with the tone I usually reserved for when he left dishes in the sink.

Nothing. This man was in REM sleep like he was getting paid for it.

I balled up my fist, stared at it like it held the power of Thor's hammer, and thumped it against his chest with the precision of a drummer hitting a snare.

"HUH—WH—WHO—Y/N, YOU GOOD?! We getting robbed?! Where the gun?!"

"I think I'm in labour."

Now let me paint you a picture of how this grown man—this six-foot-six, business-owning, tough-talking man who had practiced birth affirmations with me in the mirror, packed my hospital bag with lavender oils and those expensive soft socks from Target, watched seven birthing videos (and cried during three of them), and made a playlist called "Welcome to the World, Lil Bro" complete with Stevie Wonder and John Legend—got out of that bed.

He moved like his soul was leaving his body and he was trying to catch it.

"Wait—you sure? Like, contraction contractions? Or like when you thought you were in labor last week but it was just gas?"

I gave him a look that could have curdled fresh milk.

"I don't know, baby. I just woke up screaming on the inside and feeling like someone's playing dodgeball with my organs. What you think?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I waddled to the bathroom like a penguin in flip-flops. Sat on the toilet. That's when it happened.

My water broke.

Now see, I thought it would be graceful. Maybe like a gentle spring rain or a leaky faucet. Something manageable. Something I could clean up with a regular towel and some dignity.

Nope.

That thing gushed out like Niagara Falls decided to relocate to my bathroom. Like someone turned on a fire hydrant. I stood up and yelled, "ELIJAH! WE GOT A FLOOD! NOAH NEED TO BUILD AN ARK IN HERE!"

He came flying in—and I mean FLYING, like he had wings—with a mop.

A mop. Not a towel. Not a change of clothes. Not even a "baby, you okay?"

A whole mop.

"Elijah... what are you doing?"

"Cleaning up the water?"

"Baby, that water came from INSIDE ME. You gon' mop me up?!"

He stood there holding that mop like it had betrayed him. "I... I panicked. I heard 'flood' and my brain said 'mop.'"

Another contraction hit me and I had to lean against the sink. "Get me some clothes. And throw that mop away. We ain't mopping up no birth water."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

While I was bent over the bed trying to breathe through a contraction like the doula taught me—in through the nose, out through the mouth, imagine opening like a flower (which, by the way, is the most ridiculous thing anyone has ever told a woman in labour)—Elijah decided, out of nowhere, that the hospital bag I had meticulously packed three weeks ago was "completely unacceptable."

"This can't be all you bringing! Ain't no snacks. What about your bonnet? The good bonnet, not the raggedy one! What about the baby's sound machine? THE LOUNGE SET! You ain't bring the three-piece lounge set you made me drive to three different Targets for?!"

"Elijah—" I started, but another contraction cut me off.

"AND YOUR CHARGER! Lord Jesus in heaven, you forgot your phone charger. We gon' have a baby with no damn phone battery. How we gon' take pictures? How you gon' post on Instagram? Your mama gon' kill us both!"

This man—this grown man who I had watched parallel park a truck and negotiate business deals—was now tearing apart our linen closet, throwing robes and random items into a duffel bag like we were fleeing the country.

I was having a contraction on the floor, bracing against the couch, doing my breathing exercises, and he walked past me and handed me my eyelash curler.

"Elijah. I'm. In. Labor. I don't need lashes."

"You always say you hate looking dusty in pictures! What if someone takes a photo for the hospital newsletter? What if Channel 7 shows up? You said you wanted to look cute meeting the baby!"

I wanted to fight him. I wanted to throw that eyelash curler at his head and then follow it up with the bonnet he was frantically searching for. But another contraction said, "Nah, we're not doing violence today. We're breathing."

"Baby," I said through gritted teeth, "if you don't stop packing like we're going on a three-week vacation and help me get to this car..."

He stopped. Looked at me. Looked at the chaos he'd created. "You right. You right. Let's go have this baby."

Then he grabbed the eyelash curler anyway.

Getting to the hospital should have been simple. We'd driven there twice for practice runs. We knew exactly where to go.

But at 4:30 AM, with me contracting every five minutes and Elijah's adrenaline making him drive like he was in Fast and Furious, everything went wrong.

First, he missed the exit.

"ELIJAH."

"I see it, I see it! I'ma get off at the next one!"

"There IS no next one for three miles!"

Then the GPS decided to recalculate and took us through the scenic route. Through downtown. Past the 24-hour donut shop where Elijah had the audacity to say, "You want anything?"

"DO I WANT ANYTHING?! I want this baby out of me! I want to not feel like I'm being split in half! I want you to drive like you got some sense!"

"I'm just saying, donuts might help—"

"ELIJAH MOORE, if you stop at that donut shop, I'm having this baby in the parking lot and naming him Krispy just to spite you!"

We finally got to the hospital at 5:15 AM. Elijah pulled up to what he thought was the emergency entrance but was actually the loading dock for medical supplies.

A security guard knocked on the window. "Y'all lost?"

"My wife's in labor!" Elijah announced like he was Paul Revere.

The guard looked at me, mid-contraction, gripping the door handle. "Maternity ward is around the front, baby daddy. Follow the pink signs."

"Pink signs," I repeated through my breathing. "Follow the pink signs, baby daddy."

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We got there. I got checked in. Got hooked up to all the monitors. Got examined by a nurse who had clearly seen it all and was not impressed by my dramatics.

"You're 3 centimeters," she announced.

I almost cried. three? THREE? After all that suffering, all that breathing, all that flooding and mop drama, I was only three centimeters?

"That's it?" Elijah asked. "She been in pain for hours."

"First baby?" the nurse asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

She smiled the knowing smile of a woman who had probably delivered half the babies in the city. "Oh honey, you've got a long day ahead of you. But don't worry—" she looked at Elijah "—daddy's gonna take real good care of you, ain't you, daddy?"

Then Elijah, this man who had just driven through half the city like a maniac, who had packed our entire linen closet, who had brought a MOP to clean up amniotic fluid, looked at this nurse and asked, "Can she get the epidural now? You know, as like a courtesy? Since we here early?"

The nurse blinked at him. Slow. Deliberate. Like she was processing whether he had really asked what she thought he asked.

"Sir, labor doesn't work on a courtesy system. This ain't the Ritz-Carlton."

I would have laughed if I wasn't busy trying to breathe through another contraction.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I labored all day. ALL DAY. I walked the halls like I was training for a marathon, bouncing on that big rubber ball they gave me (which I decided was invented by someone who clearly hated pregnant women), and did squats in the bathroom because apparently that's what helps.

My mom came around noon with a bag full of snacks and that worried look she gets when she thinks I'm not handling something right.

"You doing okay, baby?"

"I'm fine, Mama. Just bringing your grandson into the world."

Elijah's mama arrived an hour later with enough food to feed a small army and immediately started rearranging the room to her liking.

"This ain't set up right. Why is the bed facing that way? The baby needs to see the window when he come out. Elijah, move that chair. Y/N, you need to eat something. You can't birth no baby on an empty stomach."

I saw Jesus at one point around 3 PM. Not in a religious way—in a "this epidural is hitting different" way. He told me I was doing good and to stop telling Elijah to shut up so much.

I told Jesus that Elijah deserved every "shut up" he got.

Between contractions, I called Elijah every name I could think of. Not mean names—well, not too mean—but I definitely questioned his intelligence, his common sense, and his ability to handle stressful situations.

At one point around 4 PM, this man brought in a Bluetooth speaker and tried to play "Pum Pum Bring Life" by Kalado because "it's to brighten the mood and it’s true that I was bringing life through my pussy."

I threw a cup of ice at him.

Not the whole cup—I needed the ice. Just the ice. It scattered across the floor like musical notes of my frustration.

"Turn it off."

"But baby—"

"TURN. IT. OFF."

The nurse came in to check the commotion and saw Elijah collecting ice cubes from the floor while I glared at him from the bed.

"What happened here?"

"Musical differences," I said.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

By 10 PM, I was 8 centimetres. EIGHT. We were getting close, and I could feel it in my whole body. Everything was different now. Intense. Real.

Elijah had been chewing the same piece of gum for four hours—nervous chewing, stress chewing—and the sound was about to make me lose whatever sanity I had left.

"If you don't spit out that gum right now, I'm going to make YOU birth this baby."

That's when he cried. Real tears. Not "I'm overwhelmed" tears or "this is scary" tears, but genuine, deep, emotional tears.

He was holding my hand, looking into my eyes, and saying, "You so strong. You doing so good, baby. Look at you. You growing our son and you ain't even complaining—"

"I've been complaining for nine hours."

"Okay, you complaining, but you DOING it. You really doing it. You got this."

And I believed him. I felt strong. I felt capable. I felt like Wonder Woman and Beyoncé and my mama all rolled into one.

Until I looked over and this man was eating a Slim Jim.

A SLIM JIM. During labor. During this sacred, powerful moment of bringing life into the world.

"Ain't no way. There is absolutely no way you're having a meat stick while I'm pushing out a human being."

He looked at the Slim Jim like it had materiized in his hand without his knowledge. "I'm stressed! I eat when I'm stressed! You know this about me!"

"Throw it away."

"But I just opened it—"

"ELIJAH."

He threw it away. But I could tell he was mourning that Slim Jim.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The nurse checked me one more time. "We're at 10 centimeters. Time to push."

Everything changed. The room got serious. The doctor came in. More nurses appeared. Elijah stood beside me, holding my hand, and I could see in his eyes that he was scared and excited and proud all at once.

"You ready?" the doctor asked.

Was I ready? Was anybody ever ready for this?

"Let's do it."

I pushed. And pushed. And screamed things that I'm pretty sure my mama pretended not to hear from the hallway. I might've said some things that require forgiveness and possibly some Hail Marys.

The doctor kept saying "I can see the head!" and Elijah kept crying and saying "That's my son! That's my son!" like he had just discovered fire.

And then.

Then I heard it.

That cry.

That tiny, loud, miraculous, earth-shattering cry that changed everything.

Elijah sobbed. Full-body sobbed. The kind of crying you do when something so beautiful happens that your body doesn't know how else to respond. His forehead pressed against mine, tears falling on my face. "He here. Oh my God, baby, he here. He really here."

They let him cut the cord, and his hands were shaking so bad the doctor had to help him. Then they laid our son on my chest, and everything else disappeared. I forgot the mop. I forgot the Slim Jim. I forgot the ice throwing and the GPS drama and the four-hour gum chewing. It was just us. Me, Elijah, and this perfect little brown baby with his daddy's nose and what I could already tell was going to be my whole attitude.

"Hi, baby," I whispered. "We been waiting for you."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Around 6 PM, after I had gotten cleaned up and the baby had been checked and weighed and declared perfect, the door opened.

Elias walked in first, all 6'4 of him, ducking slightly under the doorframe, carrying a teddy bear that was bigger than the actual baby and three foil-wrapped casseroles that smelled like heaven.

"I ain't know what y'all was gonna be hungry for, so I brought mac and cheese, green beans, and cornbread. And some of mama's pound cake for later."

Renee came next, wearing a full fur coat—mind you, it was 71 degrees outside—screaming before she even got through the door: "WHERE MY NEPHEW?! I need to see this baby that had y'all acting crazy for nine months!"

Maya trailed behind with a camera and a ring light. "I'm vlogging the first meeting. Y'all don't be weird. Act natural. But also, maybe look towards the camera when you hold him."

Toni brought wine.

"I can't drink that," I said.

"It's for me," she whispered. "Labor stories make me nervous."

The baby was sleeping in his little hospital bassinet, wrapped up like a tiny burrito, completely unbothered by the chaos that was his family.

Elijah was trying to swaddle him for the visitors, and Elias had the nerve to start coaching him from across the room.

"Nah, bro, tuck that corner tighter. You want it snug but not too tight. Like when you—" he paused, looked around the room full of women "—like when you fold a fitted sheet."

"Boy, you don't know nothing about folding fitted sheets," Renee said, pushing past him to get to the baby. "Let me show you how to swaddle. I raised four kids."

Maya was crying because "the baby yawned with purpose" and trying to get it on camera.

Renee asked if we wanted to make him a TikTok account. "For the brand," she said seriously.

Toni kept threatening to take him home. "Just for a week. For bonding. Cozy auntie bonding."

My mama was trying to organize all the gifts they brought while simultaneously making sure everyone washed their hands and didn't wake the baby.

Elijah's mama was critiquing everyone's baby-holding technique and rearranging the flowers they brought "for better energy flow."

The nurse finally had to come in and diplomatically kick them all out. "Visiting hours are over, and mama and baby need their rest."

"We family!" Renee protested.

"Family visiting hours are also over," the nurse said with the authority of someone who had managed many chaotic families.

As they filed out, each one of them kissing me and the baby and promising to come back tomorrow, I realized this was going to be our life now. This beautiful, loud, chaotic, loving circus was our baby's family.

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It was quiet. Finally quiet. Just me, Elijah, and our son. The baby was sleeping in Elijah's arms, bundled in the blanket that Elias had wrapped him in with surprising gentleness for such big hands.

Elijah was in the chair next to my bed, staring at our son like he was trying to memorize every detail of his face.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you more," I whispered back.

"You cussed me out seventeen times today."

"You deserved every single one."

He smiled. That soft smile he gets when he knows I'm right but doesn't want to admit it.

I leaned over and kissed his hand, the one that wasn't supporting our baby. "Thank you. For being here. For the panic packing. For bringing a mop to clean up amniotic fluid. For the Slim Jim stress eating. For everything."

He kissed my forehead. "You made me a dad. You made us a family."

Our son let out a tiny sigh in his sleep, the softest sound I had ever heard. Like he was perfectly content to be exactly where he was.

And just like that, the hardest, funniest, wildest, most chaotic day of our lives became the best day of our lives.

I looked at Elijah holding our baby, both of them peaceful and perfect, and thought about how this little person was going to grow up with the most loving, crazy, dramatic family in the world. He was going to have a daddy who packed entire linen closets and brought mops to floods, a mama who threw ice during labor, uncles who brought too much food, aunties who wanted to make him TikTok famous, and grandmamas who rearranged hospital rooms for better energy.

He was going to be so loved.

And probably so confused.

But mostly loved.

"What are we gonna call him?" I asked.

Elijah looked down at our son, then at me. "I don't know. But whatever we choose, he's gonna have some stories to tell about the day he was born."

"Starting with the mop?"

"Definitely starting with the mop."

Our baby opened his eyes for just a moment, looked around like he was taking inventory of his new world, then closed them again with what I swear was a satisfied expression.

Welcome to the family, little one. It's going to be a wild ride.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

#michael b jordan x reader #smoke x reader #blackfemreader #black reader #black tumblr #black creator #keraiiszn writes #raiiszn #smoke moore #elijah smoke moore

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revelboo · 7 hours ago

Note

Hi Revel, how are things? I hope you’re doing better!

Apparently, my stalker, the one I thought I’d gotten rid of two years ago, is back to harassing me, and I’m about ready to commit a crime out of sheer rage. Would you mind sharing an update of Gravity to help distract me from my thoughts of kicking his creepy ass?

Sure! Hopefully he gets bored and leaves you be soon! 🔞 mass displaced mech 🌶️

Gravity Pt 17

Optimus x Reader

• Spark aching when you don’t reply, it’s not like he’s surprised. You’re prickly like that sometimes. Like to tease and joke, but you almost look panicked when things get too real. “You don’t love me,” you say, hips rolling. “You love this. Love the idea of being in love.” And he frowns as you stare down at him, your hands on top of his. You’re smiling, but your eyes are distant, seeing something else entirely, lost in your own thoughts. “You don’t really know me, honey.”

• Wouldn’t say stupid things like that he loves you if he did know you. Because he’s genuinely good and you’re not. Not even close. “If you talked to me, I would,” he growls, big hands flexing on you, pinning you in place so you can’t move on him, but you can feel his spike pulsing inside you. “You don’t know me, either.” And he sounds almost hurt to make you feel guilty.

• “I know guys like you, boy scout,” you counter, scowling down at him. “You think I need to be rescued. You’re in love with that, not me.” Venting, he slides his palms up your body. Do you really think that? “No one ever rescued me when I needed it and I don’t need it anymore.” Those gorgeous eyes are defiant as you meet his optics. Angry and beautiful, wonders what you’d say if he told you he’d kneel at your feet and worship you with his mouth and body every day if you’d just let him. That you’re his temple, his peace.

• “I see you,” he says on a growl, a servo pressing against a scar on your hip. Asking silently. “Even if you are the most infuriating person I’ve ever met.” Snorting at him, you look at the old ridge of pale, scar tissue. The map of your body a testament to having survived, because people always talk about life like it’s an experience, a journey. Maybe for those people it is, for you, life was something that happened to you. “I’d like to know you, if you’d just talk to me.” And then he’ll run, won’t look at you the same way. He’ll realize you’re not worth his time, his love. The perverse part of you that understands that good things like him don’t belong to people like you, wants to see it burn, to be the one to set it on fire because you’re in control then.

• “You make one bad decision. And it’s not even that big a deal,” you say, fingers sliding against the line of scar on your side, time distracted like you’re confessing. “Skip some classes, hang out with the wrong people, try some things you shouldn’t, and after a certain point, you can’t seem to stop sliding.” And your head falls back as your eyes fix on some middle ground only you can see. “I’m not good like you are. I’m angry. Almost all the time.”

• Angry and afraid, so you talk tough, cop an attitude like nothing can touch you. And he sits up under you suddenly, a big hand dragging you to him, his mouth crashing against yours in rough dominance. His cheek brushing yours while he’s vents on a growl. “Good?” He demands, servos flexing against your neck and jaw. “I was supposed to end this war, to light my people’s darkest hour and I led us to destroying our own world in a never ending battle. I failed them all. I did the ugly things and survived even when I didn’t always want to and they’re all looking to me.” His helm bumps against you, resting against your head and you grip his arm. “If anything, you’re the one who should be ashamed of me.”

#transformers x reader #optimus prime #valveplug #optimus prime x reader

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skzjiiiii · 2 days ago

Text

The Bad Boy Hypothesis pt 5

pairing: rock band felix x academic achiever reader! 🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆

texting smau!

genre: group project partners to lovers? kys/kms jokes, cursing! college AU, reader and felix are literally the complete opposites of each other. felix is lowkey like a fuckboy type of guy. Actually it's so highkey now because he's acting like a MANCHILD but who knows he might actually man up and redeem his ass. There's a bit of actual writing in here! summary: what happens when you're paired up for the campus "bad boy" lee felix for your biology class? will thing end well or are you just another toy for him to play with.

bad boy hypothesis: a bad boy will always be bad — charming at first but bound to break your heart.⭑.ᐟ

“bad boys are just a distraction wrapped in a leather jacket”

wc: 1270

Later that night:

You weren’t sure why you agreed to meet him.

Maybe because part of you needed to see if he’d lie to your face. Maybe because despite everything, a small, stubborn part of your heart still wanted to understand why. Why he pulled you in like a tide and then wrecked you like a storm.

Felix stood in front of you, hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie, eyes tired and red-rimmed. He wasn’t the usual confident, cocky Felix you met in BIO 350.

He looked… wrecked. And not because you were watching. But because he knew he broke something precious. “Thanks for meeting me,” he started, voice hoarse. You didn’t respond. Just stared.

He took a step forward, then stopped himself. “I don’t know where to begin. You probably don’t want to hear it. But I need to say it anyway.”

You crossed your arms, keeping your face still. “Say it, then.”

Felix looked down at the ground, like it was easier to confess to the pavement than to you.

“I kissed her. I was drunk and stupid and… scared. Scared of how much you mean to me. Scared of how real you felt.”

His voice cracked on the last word, but he kept going.

“You make me feel like I’m not some messed up cliché. You looked at me like I was more than the rumors, more than what everyone says. And that… that scared the shit out of me.”

He looked up, eyes meeting yours, guilt and desperation swimming in those deep brown eyes.

“I’ve never had anything like this before. No one’s ever seen me the way you do. You brought me back to life in ways I didn’t think were possible. Before you, I didn’t think I deserved good things. I didn’t think I deserved love.”

You looked away, your throat tightening.

“I didn’t kiss her because I wanted her. I did it because I wanted to destroy something before it could destroy me,” he admitted. “I was self-sabotaging. But when I saw your face after… when I saw what I did to you… I’ve never hated myself more.”

A tear slipped down his cheek. He didn’t wipe it away.

“You were the one who made me believe in love again. Real, soul-warming love. I’ve never felt safer than when I was next to you, hearing you ramble about biology over matcha lattes, or laughing with my band like you belonged there all along.”

“I know I messed it up. I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I just need you to know… I love you. I’ve loved you for a while now. And I’m so sorry that I didn’t know how to handle that.”

Silence stretched between you like a thread, thin and fragile.

He took a breath. “You don’t have to say anything. I just… I couldn’t let you think you weren’t everything to me. Because you are.”

You looked at him then, not the bad boy, not the campus heartthrob. Just a boy who was scared of love until it stared him in the face and he blinked first.

And suddenly, that silence didn’t feel so heavy anymore. You stayed quiet.

Not because you didn’t have anything to say, but because the words in your chest were all tangled up, like wires that once carried music but now only sparked and stung when you tried to untangle them.

Felix stood there, waiting. You hated how familiar he looked. Hated how your heart still ached toward him like a bruise touched too soon.

“I believed in you,” you said softly. “I defended you when everyone warned me. Told them you were different. Told them you’d never hurt me.”

He flinched. His shoulders curled inward like he was trying to make himself smaller.

“And then you kissed someone else. Not just anyone. Chaewon. At a party you invited me to. And I had to watch. Do you know what that felt like?”

Your voice cracked. The tears had been sitting in your throat since that night. Now they spilled, hot and silent.

Felix stepped forward, but you held up a hand. “Don’t.”

He froze.

“I showed up for you. Over and over. I made time for you when you forgot about me. I sat through your rehearsals, studied late into the night, waited outside your classes just to walk home with you. I let you in. I made space for you in a life I worked hard to build.”

You looked up at him, heartbroken, but still burning with a kind of quiet strength. “And I guess I wasn’t worth the same kind of fight.”

Felix shook his head, quick, desperate. “You are. You are worth everything. I was just— I didn’t know how to handle someone like you. Someone who saw through me. Someone who made me feel like I wasn’t broken anymore. And I ruined it.”

His voice trembled, but you weren’t sure if it was guilt or grief. Maybe both.

“I’m not asking you to forget what I did,” he said. “I wouldn’t forgive me either. I just—I need you to know it wasn’t meaningless. You weren’t meaningless.”

There was a long, aching pause. The kind that happens when two people know they’re standing at a fork in the road and nothing will ever be quite the same again.

Finally, you whispered, “I never needed you to be perfect, Felix. I just needed you to be honest. To try.”

“I’ll try now,” he said, stepping closer, slower this time. “I’ll do it right, if you let me. If not now, then someday. I’ll earn it back. All of it. Even if you never want me again, I’ll still become the kind of person who deserved you.”

Your chest tightened. You didn’t know what came next. You didn’t know if healing would look like walking away or choosing to stay.

But one thing was clear: Felix wasn’t running anymore. He had finally shown up, not just with words, but with everything broken and bruised inside him laid bare for you to see.

And maybe, just maybe, that counted for something

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for a second, you saw it all.

The soft-shelled boy underneath the bad-boy persona. The quiet warmth. The trembling heart. The one who baked you cookies at midnight and wiped your tears when the world was too loud. The one who called you “sunshine” like it meant something sacred.

But also the one who broke you. The one who let fear ruin something tender. The one who kissed someone else when you were starting to believe in forever.

Your throat tightened, but your voice stayed steady. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Felix.” He opened his mouth, but you shook your head gently. “I’m not saying it didn’t mean something. I know it did. But I’m also not someone you come back to when you realize the other option didn’t feel right.” His eyes glossed over, but he nodded.

“I’m not gonna make a decision right now,” you said. “I need time to think. To feel. To breathe.”

His lips parted. “So you’re saying there’s still?”

“I’m saying I’ll text you.” Your voice wavered, but the truth in it held. “When I’m ready. When I know what I want. Not just what I feel right now.”

He blinked, like those words had knocked the air out of him.

You gave a small, broken smile. “Goodnight, Felix.”

Then you turned and walked away, and for once, he didn’t try to stop you. Because sometimes, love isn’t proven by the chase.

Sometimes, it’s proven by waiting.

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houseofpinkboombox · 18 hours ago

Text

Hey do first I'm sorry that happened to you. But considering how you went about this. Fuck you. Read studies? We do. Males dramatically make up pedos.

What happened to you is awful. You won the worst lottery on planet earth. Considering the statistics.

But on a post that's "hey mothers should be treated like people" you do this. So yeah it actually does seem like you're a misogynist. No one was asking you personally to hate your dad. When your mom was a pedo that belongs in a wood chipper.

We were talking about how mothers are treated largely like emotional and physical pact mules by the vast majority of society.

Like I don't know you. I don't know why you tagged me in this. But it seems like you're literally just saying "because my abuser was my mom, all mothers should be held to an impossible to meet standards and should be largely mocked at every turn!" Which isn't the hot take you seem to think that is.

I'm glad you had a "good dad" who by your own admission wasn't even there. So didn't even do the bare minimum. His apathy towards you should at the very least bother you. All things considered.

"Talk to real survivors" the fact you think you're the only survivor of assault, let alone as a child. I'll spare you my gory details. But I'm sadly in the marjority just wasn't family.

But here's a study. Go to therapy or something stop tagging me in shit because I'll tell you about your fucking self.

"Be kind to children" leftist tenderq*eers when you tell them that if they really cared about kids they would assess patriarchal dynamics as they are the root of all family issues, treat mothers like humans with emotions that can be overwhelmed by unequal dynamics instead of care robots and advocate for them to be a priority, and hold men to an identical level of emotional labor and police them since they're the ones who are ACTUALLY shit parents... instead of just virtue signaling with momtok drama and making YouTube commentary videos about stupid shit like "beige moms" and telling women they need to be good mothers by usurping men's role as well as their role and improve their already good parenting + lose all sense of self in order to be a good mommy (theyll still joke about that being insulting too):

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crystallilytarot02 · 12 hours ago

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How to get more in touch with your spiritual gifts?

Pile 1

You can work succesfully with your spirit guides, try to be in touch with them, they can help you a lot. If you have an addiction or a bad habit, and you try to stop it, when you are alone, listen to what that inner voice says. It's your spirit guides, they will be there for you in the hard days. If you enjoy life, your intuition will get better. Be in the nature, laugh a lot, be with people you love. When you do this, your intuition will be on point without even trying. You can use Tarot or oracle cards too. Start with small questions. Also try to guess something small, like what color will be your friend's shirt when you next meet. This way you can be better in a fun way. You can have an incredible connection with your loved ones spiritually, you can meet them in your dreams, and you can send energy, healing. But don't send bad things, not even to bad people. If you have negative feelings, speak with someone or write it down, don't hold it in yourself.

Pile 2

You are probably a little more logical, but you can see things from a different perspective. Try to look at spiritual things with an open mind. You have a friend who is more spiritual, they can help you see things in a unique way. Even if you feel like you don't have spiritual talent, you will be surprised with the amount of symbols, synchronycities you will experience if you are more open. And those aren't only coincedences. You should work on the reason why you have this block in yourself against spirituality. You probably have some unresolved bad experience in your subconcious mind. But you have a good intuition actually, if you let yourself be more emotional, you sense people's vibe, you can predict things. Moving, walking, dancing is really good for you, it activates good energy in you. But if you want to feel an important thing or someone's real motive, you need to be alone, meditate, relax. Don't think about the problem, just relax, clear your mind, and you will get the answer.

Pile 3

You probably have intense dreams, and even if it feels chaotic, it always has a meaning. You can practice lucid dreams too, you will meet your future spouse in your dreams before meeting them in real life. You can feel while traveling that you lived in that city/country, you can feel an attraction to different cultures. If it didn't happened yet, you probably will have this experience one day. It will be definitely a meaningful event in your life, you can even move to another place after. You can be good in learning languages too, or one particular language, because of this past life. When you will heal from bad experiences, that's when your intuition will get better. You will see why something didn't worked out, even be grateful looking back. Until than, don't give up, you have a vision, and it's not just a daydream, it's your destiny. You can use vision boards, and visualisation. Try to keep balance in your life, don't overindulge in anything, that isn't good for your energy.

#tarot community #tarot #tarotblr #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot reading #free tarot

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zazaiafe2 · 3 days ago

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I really like the approach your blog takes towards shifting in this community full of "Just assume" "Just decide that you're in your DR" yada yada. Although that does work, and the law of assumption sure is real, I do believe in it. But its application (keyword: Application) to things like shifting is something I have no idea how to do and I'm sure I am not the only one who has this issue, especially if the DRs are very "different" from our CR (fictional DRs most of the time fall under this category) Our ego does indeed play a HUGE role in what our awareness experiences through the physical plane. The "Assume you're in your DR" does work but it then also has many other supporting factors for those it does work and I realized that by reading your posts. Its okay if it does NOT work for some or is really hard to follow through with lets just be honest rn instead of blaming people for "not persisting" or some other crap 😭😭😭 Because straight up using LOA, esp for a place you haven't even felt a breeze of, aren't even completely sure is real??? Can be really wonky.

I thank you for making posts that give ACTUAL STRUCTURE to shift.. that, simply using the LOA logic lacks. And I love how you do state that it is not a process but rather like an instant flick of a switch.

Honestly, I relate to this so much. I used to believe much more strongly in the law of assumption, but the more research I do and the deeper I go into shifting, the less I fully trust it as a universal explanation. I do think it's a tool, and for some people it works great, but assuming it's a one-size-fits-all rule is extremely misleading.

If we take the law of assumption seriously, then we also have to recognize that people have vastly different abilities to assume. I have a highly rational mind and tend to resist anything that feels irrational or unproven. For me to accept something as true, I often need either an explanation or a heavily altered state of consciousness (ASC) where my mind allows it.

Even when I practice hypnosis , I see very clearly how differently people respond to suggestion and belief implantation. For some, one session is enough to accept a belief. For others, it might take dozens of sessions,and still, some struggle. The mind's critical factor doesn't work identically for everyone.

If I still fully believed in LOA, I'd probably say it's been extremely oversimplified, and that some advice can even be harmful. For example, telling someone who's feeling frustrated to "persist" with no nuance can easily backfire and feed into a frustration loop, especially for neurodivergent people or people who cognitively analyze their emotions deeply. The problem is that a lot of LOA advice assumes everyone processes things like belief, assumption, and persistence in the same linear way.

Obviously, for someone who has shifted often, assuming "shifting is real and natural" will be a much easier belief to hold than for someone who's never consciously shifted before. Their awarness already has experiential confirmation. For someone without that, it's a different challenge.

Also, I 100% agree with you that shifting isn't really a process, it's instantaneous at the moment it happens. The "process" is the preparation beforehand. I don’t believe at all in the "3D lag" concept; not only is there no proof for it, but almost everyone who shifts describes it as immediate once it occurs. I think a lot of these "lag" beliefs are more like coping mechanisms or ways to comfort oneself when it's taking longer than expected.

As someone who practices hypnosis, I can confidently say: assumptions and belief implantation are way more unstable and nuanced than people realize. Teaching people that assumption alone is enough, without considering individual differences, does more harm than good for a lot of shifters.

I honestly had a lot to say on this, but to sum it up: I fully agree with your take, and i think it's a part of the spiritual meritocracy and individualistic tendancies.

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itneverendshere · 2 days ago

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hey hun, idk if you taking any request but maybe you can make something about this. so you know sombr just released his song 'we never dated' and i was thinking if you can write something based on the song with rafe × reader, love you💖

a lil something i put together during my lunch break, enjoy 💘

he’s drunk again, the thinking-about-you kind.

his head tilts against the seat of the truck he hasn't driven in months, still parked in the beach house garage, waiting for something that’ll never come back.

rafe taps the red solo cup against his lip and closes his eyes.

it’s that song, the one wheezie showed him earlier, and he'd pretended to hate immediately.

"how come we never even dated but i still find myself thinking of you daily? why do you always leave me achin' when you were never mine for the takin'?"

rafe’s never wanted to punch a radio more.

it’s true, all of it. you never dated, but he loved you. that was the worst kind of heartbreak; he couldn't claim anything real, be angry or bitter or jealous. he couldn't point a finger in your direction and accuse you of breaking him because you never belonged to each other.

he never had the right.

you've always been too shiny for him. inherently good. more than a pretty face — though, yeah, you were that too and more.

rafe knew it before anyone else ever said it.

he knew you when you were still the skittish girl with lipgloss always smoothed over your mouth and that light blue cashmere sweater you wore every third thursday like clockwork.

you were sweet, but not naïve, you grew up learning how to smile through kook parents’ cocktail parties and could tell when a guy was trying to flirt or manipulate you in under three seconds.

rafe cameron wasn’t slick enough for you. he just happened to be there, at the right time, in the right places, saying the wrong things and hoping you'd want him anyway.

you did.

god, you did.

one summer, two friends who weren’t friends yet, thrown together because their parents played nice at yacht club dinners and pretended that the pogues didn’t matter as long as their kids stayed clean and polished.

you'd asked him once, on the beach at sunset, when everyone else was passed out or making out or passed out making out, why he always looked so angry.

rafe had blinked, caught off guard by your astuteness, replied with something stupid like, “m'not angry. don’t like people.”

you had smiled, close-lipped. “you seem to like me though.”

he hadn’t said anything, but you were right. he did, even when he shouldn’t have. especially when he shouldn’t have.

it got worse in senior year.

that was when he started noticing the finality of it. you were still walking around in ballet flats and sundresses and raising your hand first in ap lit — but it was all coming to an end, wasn't it? the idea of a you and him, the fantasy.

you were going places. real ones, far-far away, with brick libraries and stone archways and out-of-state dorms. you had a list, and rafe wasn’t on it.

he saw it coming the day you mentioned early decision.

“i’m thinking of brown,” you had confessed in a dreamy tone, chewing the end of your straw.

rafe had nodded, tossing a pebble across the dock water. “yeah?”

“you think I could get in?”

you could get into heaven if you asked nicely. instead, he shrugged again.

“duh.”

you laughed, that hiccup laugh that always made his stomach drop to the pits of hell, and leaned into his side for a second, enough to make him want more. that was the problem.

he always wanted more. of your voice, your time, skin against his. more jokes, more silence, more anything you’d give him. you were meant to leave and he was stuck in this fucking awful place, barely making it out of high school.

people talked about you two, always did.

assumed you were together, and he pathetically let them think what they wanted because it was easier than the truth: he was a guy in love with a girl he never kissed, too scared to try and pull you down with him.

rafe watched you date other people. preppy kooks with clean sneakers and trust funds and internships. it didn’t matter, it made sense, even when he drove past your house a little slower after those dates.

he always looked at you longer the next morning when you sat across from him in the café. sometimes, he swore you looked back.

the party your parents decided to put together that fateful night for you was too loud, or rafe simply grew to resent the sound of other people being happy.

he stood by the railing on the second-floor landing, a typical red solo cup warm in his hand, watching the celebration spiral out under the candle lights below. your backyard had been transformed, long tables dressed in linen, picture boards of you growing up, a cake with congratulations, brown university! piped in frosted gold, and people everywhere, drunk off champagne and privilege.

he hated it.

he'd been gawking at you laughing under those lights. you wore white tonight, tailored pants and some shimmery top that sparkled when you moved. your hair was half up, the way he always liked it.

you were leaving in two days. earlier than expected. the early admission program at brown, your parents were ecstatic, toasting to the future with rosé wine and proud tears.

rafe only found out three days ago, from wheezie, who overheard your mom on the phone ordering dorm essentials to be shipped ahead of time.

he didn’t possess the energy to be surprised.

that this was it, the last night. the last time he’d maybe ever see you outside of random instagram posts and christmas visits. the final hour of whatever not-thing they were.

you never promised him anything, and he had nothing to offer. only half-mumbled jokes and every piece of his heart that he tried not to hand over, one by one, every time you looked at him like he mattered.

he was drunk again.

he couldn’t say goodbye properly, or force himself to go down there and hug you like a normal person. couldn’t say, “i'm happy for you,” without gagging on the bitterness in his throat.

he did what he always did.

avoided the situation.

he was mad you were leaving, leaving earlier. you didn’t give him time to work up the courage to spit out the truth once and for all.

his legs carried him toward the kitchen, eyes on the floor, shoulders hunched.

“rafe.”

you voice was always soft with him.

you stood there in the hallway. fuck, you looked so pretty, unfairly so.

summer and home and everything he didn’t get to keep.

“i was wondering if you were gonna hide all night."

"wasn’t hiding.”

you raised a skeptical eyebrow. “right.”

rafe looked away first, he always did with you. you made him stupidly nervous, still.

"you’re mad.”

“’m not.”

“you’re mad i’m leaving.”

he scoffed. “you were always gonna leave. what’s the point in being mad about it now?”

your expression faltered, rafe hated himself for it.

“i thought… you’d at least say goodbye,” you whispered.

"didn’t think you’d notice if I didn’t.”

“rafe.”

he took a step back. he had to, orr he’d grab your hand and beg you to stay and make a fucking fool of himself.

“i can’t do this tonight,” he mumbled. “go back to your party, yeah?ivy league’s waiting.”

“wait a minute—”

“have fun up there, alright?”

perhaps, if he hadn't been too tipsy, he would've spotted the same ache in your eyes that was bleeding through his.

your jaw clenched, that twitch he caught when you were trying not to cry. shit, that was gonna fuck him up later. that look.

“you’re being such an asshole,” you bit out, quietly.

he huffed a laugh that wasn’t amused. “yeah. guess ’m just playing my part, huh?”

you blinked. “what does that even mean?”

“you—” he started, then cut himself off. shook his head. “you’re actin’ like this is some big surprise. you were always gonna choose that life. brown. new friends. better everything. that was the plan, right?”

“i never said that,” you shot back, voice trembling now.

you were all dolled up in a way he hadn’t seen before, sparkly earrings catching the kitchen light. you didn’t look like the girl he used to skip class with and lie on the pier beside.

but you were.

“you made your choice, didn’t you?” he muttered. “early program. gone before the summer’s even over.”

“i earned it, rafe. because i worked for it—”

“and what about me?” he snapped, suddenly. voice louder than either of you expected. “i bust my ass tryin’ to graduate with you. and you couldn't tell me this? i did it—for what? so you could feel sorry for me on your way out?”

that was new low. he regretted it the second he said it.

“that’s not fair."

“yeah? neither is you leavin’ me here and expectin’ me to clap for you.”

“i never asked you to wait for me,” you were pleading now, not accusing. “i never asked you to do any of that.”

“i know, god, i know,” rafe snapped. “that’s the problem. you never looked back, did you? not once.”

“that’s not true.”

“isn’t it?”

your hands curled against your outfit, wrinkling the fabric.

“i care about you."

he let out a breath through his nose, humorless.

“yeah?” he muttered. “i love you.”

real. pathetic, even. the most honest thing he’s ever said in his life.

your lips parted but he intervined before you could salvage his reputation.

“still not enough reason for you to stay, is it?”

your breath hitched, your eyes went wide. you weren’t expecting him to say it. the possibility had lived in the space between you two for so long, you thought it'd stay silent forever.

he had too. now it was out there, and you didn’t say it back.

“that’s what I thought,” he said, voice flat now.

you looked like you were about to cry. rafe looked like he already had.

“why are you doing this now?” your voice trembled with confusion. “i’m not leaving forever!"

you meant it, you thought a couple thousand miles and a new life wouldn’t erase this not-thing, wouldn’t bury him beneath everything you’d go off and become.

rafe, despite his many flaws, wasn’t stupid. hope wasn't a luxury he could afford.

he laughed, more of a breath than anything real.

��you might as well be.”

your brows pulled together. “what—”

“i never want to see you again,” he ripped the bandage off, even though it hurt more. “okay? just—just go. go to your early program, to your dorm, to your perfect fucking life with your perfect fucking people, and let me get over you in peace.”

your face twisted, the pain blooming across.

“you don’t mean that.”

“don’t i?” he snapped, stepping backward before he got close again, and broke completely. “what’s left of this, huh?”

he could only hear your shaky breath and the sound of someone laughing downstairs.

"so yeah, do me a favor — don’t text me when you miss home. don’t check in. don’t come back here thinking everything’s the same.”

you blinked, tears building in your lashes.

“rafe…”

he looked away, couldn’t watch you cry and still walk out of his life.

you can’t miss someone you never had, right? the only thing he had were his regrets.

#gigi ☄. *. ⋆talks #blurbs #rafe blurb #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x sweetheart!reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron au #outerbanks rafe #obx rafe cameron #rafe outer banks

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