#and automatically better than everyone else

[jkwritez]

Swept Under Surveillance | JJK | (1)

A janitor with a past. A CEO with enemies. A deal no one can know about.

Pairing: CEO! Jungkook x Ex Convict! reader

Genre: Corporate suspense, Corporate Thriller, Slowburn romance, secret alliance, modern AU, Spy AU, MDNI,Enemies within

Word count: 1K

Summary:All Y/N wanted was to protect her friend but one punch, one trial, and she became an ex-con.Now mopping floors at the company she once dreamed of, she stays invisible… until she catches a leaker and says a little too much for a janitor.The incident is buried. Everyone forgets her.Except Jungkook.He’s been hunting traitors.She becomes his hidden asset.Stay quiet, report everything, and he’ll clear her record.She agrees.Reluctantly.Because as Jungkook says no one notices the janitor.And that’s exactly what makes her dangerous.

Taglist: Open (comment under this)

Warnings: mentions of harassment, past assault, violence, prison record,Language / swearing(just a little),Criminal activity,Prison / ex-con mentions

A/N:Hi, this is my first ff. Please tell me your thoughts about it in the comments.And english is not my first language so please ignore any grammatical errors.Follow my blog but alot of BTS related content is coming soon. Sorry for the short chapter longer chapters will be coming.

Series Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

The office was quiet. Too quiet.

Y/N wiped the same spot on the glass conference table for the third time, the circular motion of her hand robotic. Her fingers ached from overuse, but she didn’t stop. It gave her something to do,something to control.

A flicker from the windows caught her eye. The city glittered outside, Seoul’s skyline blinking in rhythm like a heartbeat. Inside, only the faint buzz of fluorescent lights and the distant hum of an elevator filled the silence. Everyone else had gone home hours ago.

Everyone important, anyway.

Y/N moved like a ghost, her steps soft on the waxed tile. She knew these halls better than most. Not just where they led, but how they sounded. The sharp squeak of the break room door, the uneven floor panel near the HR wing, the automatic lights that didn’t always flick on right away. She noticed everything.

And that was the problem.

She hadn’t always been a janitor.

It had started with a night out. Just drinks, just friends—just another attempt at pretending life was lighter than it felt. She had been laughing when it happened. Her friend, Mina, had stepped out for a smoke. A man followed. Y/N hadn’t thought much of it until she saw his hand grip Mina’s arm too tight.

The look on Mina’s face said everything.

She reacted without thinking. Pushed the guy. He smirked. Said something disgusting. She swung.

One punch. One crack of bone against skin. One jaw out of alignment.

She hadn’t even known she could hit that hard.

By the time police arrived, the man was bleeding, dramatic, and loud. Mina was silent. Y/N’s hands shook.

She was charged with assault the next day.

The courtroom was worse than the cell. There was something humiliating about sitting in a suit you borrowed, watching people reduce you to a moment. The prosecutor didn’t care about context. The defense attorney did what she could, but the damage was done.

They called her "impulsive," "unstable," "a risk."

Eighteen months in prison.

No leniency.

She spent it quiet. Observing. Keeping her head down. She learned who to avoid, what silence meant in prison, and how to vanish even while standing still. When she got out, she didn’t feel free,she just felt… tired.

Her old company didn’t want her back. No one else did either. Every interview ended with the same polite rejection.

"You’re not the right fit."

She was desperate, running low on rent money, and one rejection away from giving up when she applied at Jeon Enterprises. It was a long shot. She had a background in operations, internal audits, and logistics—but her record screamed louder than her resume.

The HR assistant barely looked her in the eye.

"We’ve reviewed your file. We won’t be moving forward."

She nodded. She stood. She was halfway to the elevator when a woman behind the reception desk called her back.

"Facilities just called,they need help on the night crew. Cleaning staff. Would you be interested?"

Y/N said yes. Because saying no didn’t feed you.

Now she cleaned the very floors she used to walk across in heels. She carried a mop instead of reports. Wore a uniform with her name stitched across the chest instead of a blazer. And no one looked at her long enough to remember her face.

That suited her just fine.

Until tonight.

A flicker of light caught her attention from one of the cubicles down the hall. Her brows furrowed. The office should’ve been empty.

She moved slowly, cautious.

Voices.

"Just send it. No one checks those export logs." "What about the CEO?" "Jungkook’s in meetings all week. Just move the files."

Her blood chilled.

She stepped closer, hidden just behind the divider wall. She recognized the man. Logistics department's Kang Min-jae. Smug. Sloppy. Exactly the kind who thought he was too clever to get caught.

The screen glowed with spreadsheets, file transfers, and something labeled confidential.

Y/N pulled out her phone.

She knew what she was seeing. She knew what it could mean. In a place like this, being the only witness without evidence made you a liability.

She hit record.

Then, without hesitating, she walked to the nearest wall panel and pressed the emergency button.

Silent alarm.

Within minutes, security was there. Two guards stormed the office. Kang jumped to his feet, flustered, defensive.

"This is a mistake! I was just—"

Y/N stood still.

"I heard him talking about file exports. I saw what was on his screen."

The guards looked at her, then at each other.

"You sure about this?"

She nodded once.

"Positive."

She expected to be questioned. She expected to be ignored.

She didn’t expect what came next.

The following morning, she was just starting her shift when a man in a suit approached her by the supply closet.

"You’re Y/N?"

"Yes."

"The CEO wants to speak with you."

She blinked.

"Me?"

"He said to bring you to his office immediately."

Now she stood in front of the elevator that led to the top floor, somewhere she hadn’t been allowed since applying for a job she never got.

Her palms felt sweaty. Her heart pounded.

The doors opened. She stepped in.

Minutes later, she was outside the CEO’s office. The door was thick, glass frosted, light spilling out from beneath.

A voice from inside:

"Send her in."

She inhaled once. Then pushed the door open.

And walked straight into Jeon Jungkook’s world.

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

MY WHOLE CLASS IS TEN MINUTES LATE WTF DO I DO??? LIKE THE PROFESSOR IS HERE AND WE'VE JUST BEEN CHATTIN BUT AHHHH

[ersatz-introspective]

bcs i'm aware of how i automatically percieve people, i earnestly try to give the benefit of the doubt a lot. i tend to believe people are Actually Just That Dumb™ when they're joking about something, so i try to get ahead of that & tell myself people are joking when they say something stupid, so that i don't look stupid

all i've learnt in doing that, is most of the time, people aren't joking. they actually did mean what they say, & i made the situation 10× worse by laughing at what they said.

not only does it reinforce the idea in my head that people are Dumb so i need to take the reins on literally Everything, but it also leads people to believe i'm making fun of them for saying something silly & talking to me less, when, if i knew it were a genuine thing they thought, i would have gladly explained it without judgement

but i don't really know how to stop treating them as jokes, because what if they ARE joking so they laugh at me for how Stupid i am for taking the bait? i can't handle being made a fool of, i think i'd rather die

[2dumb2furious]

I’m a simple girl. Someone has an osemanverse profile picture and I follow them

[unproduciblesmackdown]

billions also comedy gold presenting winston as a scapegoat for abuse culture fans when it's like but hey it can't be actual scapegoating if you Enjoy It or consider it Justified or experience Reassurance from Its Opportunity For A Group Cohesion Substitute For A Cohesion Based On An Inherent Equal Degree Of Belonging, The Absence Of Which Allows For, Encourages, Reinforces, & Rewards Scapegoating

it can't be Bullying if someone's Weird or you Just Don't Personally Like Them or Nobody's Actually Stopping You, Maybe At Least If They Don't See Too Much Of It, Maybe Others Are Supporting It

it can't be Abuse if you're just doing things Normally or are Following Rules or Aren't Feeling Malicious And Aren't Getting Divine Revelations Otherwise and probably it's just that a lot of abnormal people are being whiny &/or unfair &/or the Real malicious ones. kinda just like how that scapegoat is the real person ruining everything and really just forcing you to treat them like this

[tojiscrack]

forgot to say happy birthday

happy birthdayyy ah burthday farttt

i can HEAR the audio 😟

but thanks cutie pie <3

[intomybubble]

I'm just about finished with My Little Inferno, and the ML (the LI) is so pathetic omfg. I feel like I'm reading Dame na Watashi ni Koishite Kudsai due to the main leads both being fucking losers (the FL in Dame na is in a dead end relationship and is practically a sugar mommy who ends up in debt to support her BF which almost leads her to being sold into prostitution. Her attitude isn't great either). Like if I could get a hot guy to fall head over heels in love with me even after he witnesses me puking, pissing, and crying myself out of fear and getting hassled by old bullies (if only I were a BL protag bc he'd think I'm cute), I would think something is wrong with him and that I probably made it in life. The ML isn't particularly... useful. The only thing he has going for him is being cute and short, and being needy towards the LI. The LI makes for a good house husband.

Based on the cover art for the manga, I would've thought it was really dark (like Killing Stalking or Blind play) but its mostly just about cyber crime and embezzlement and sorta the yakuza (mostly mentioned, briefly seen). To an extent, this series sorta reminded me of Semantic Error, but only because of the computer stuff though. Otherwise, I sorta like the slice of life aspects. I think the crime stuff is sorta underbaked. I wish there was more risk or something to make things tense bc the only thing was ML's mom getting get info stolen and getting $300k in debt.

[memoryoflife]

the more i read this fucking book the more frustrated i'm getting

[cheemscakecat]

Interesting take!

What if BLU Tavish was the one made by the bombonomicon, and its evil magic dictates that he can’t be his most effective self unless he’s being evil?

But he’s like a gag villain who keeps trying to be evil and failing. So he’s got the same base skills as RED Tavish, but knows he could tap into powerful forbidden techniques if he could just manage to be a bad enough person.

That temptation to cheat and use the bombonomicon for forbidden techniques went away for the original RED Demoman, but it lingered in his BLU copy. Made even more potent because he was created by evil magic. He doesn’t crave validation from the DeGroot family, he craves the ultimate explosive power and knowledge.

BLU Demoman can’t use a cursed book like a wizard or regular human, but he has cursed magic running in his veins.

The only way to tap into that magic is to be a bad person, but because he’s a clone of Tavish, it goes against his actual personality. And it’s infuriating!

i usually headcanon the red and blu mercs as being seperate people that are only so similar because the brothers were copying eachother's ideas, but the idea of both demos being tavish, one being made by the bombinomicon shortly after it stole his eye, popped into my brain and it wont leave. They'd probably have different personalities due to the vastly different trajectories of their lives, he was only 7 when merasmus hired him to clean the library after all.

[cap-winter-barnes]

Hangman's Sister (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Y/N is Hangman's little sister - everyone on the Dagger Squad knows she's dating Bob, except for her big brother.

Warnings: mentions of PDA? Little bit of sass from Bob.

The Hard Deck is teaming with Naval personnel when you arrive in the early evening. The drive in gave you enough time to prepare for the onslaught of friendly greetings from the rest of the squad - your friends. Well, first and foremost they are your brother, Jake Seresin's, team and friends. Yet as Maverick's assistant, they welcomed you onto the team as if you were just another Lieutenant.

As it was technically your day off and the weather was overbearingly humid, you'd opted for a small blue summer dress, the colour coincidentally the same shade as your favourite Lieutenant's eyes. As you enter the bar, you make a beeline for Penny, grabbing a bottle of water from her as you ask her how the crowd has been so far. "Nothing too rowdy yet, but then again, Maverick hasn't shown up yet." You both chuckle at her remark before she points out the Dagger Squad over by the pool table. With a brief hug and a smile, you make your way over to the team.

"Hey, if it isn't little Seresin!" Fanboy makes your presence known as the rest of the squad cheer at your arrival. Bob's attention is immediately on you as he takes in how beautiful you look in your dress, smiling as you make your way around the team, greeting everyone with a brief hug - yet your eyes stay on him until you're standing in front of him.

Bob pulls you into a tight hug, breathing in the scent of your shampoo as he does so - he's missed you.

"How's my favourite Weapons System Operator doing?" You make sure to hold onto him longer than everybody else, appreciating the feel of him holding you tightly.

"Better now you're here, beautiful." He never fails to make you giddy with his terms of affection. As you pull away, he presses a chaste kiss to your temple - eyes meeting as you move apart.

"Alright, Baby on Board, I think that's enough physical contact for you." The sound of your brother's voice automatically has you rolling your eyes as he pulls you into a headlock.

"Jake, don't be an asshole."

"Sorry Robert, I didn't mean to offend."

"And yet somehow, you always manage." You can't say you're not impressed at the snide remark comes from your boyfriend. The rest of the team, equally surprised at this comeback too. "You know maybe she likes the physical contact with me?"

The group fall silent at this next remark. Your heart thunders in your chest as you stare, shocked at Bob's face. There's a confidence there that you rarely see, but my God, you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.

"What the hell did you just say?" All playfulness leaves Jake's voice as he lets you go, straightening his body to tower over Bob.

"You heard me, Bagman."

The tension in the Hard Deck is ridiculously thick, an uncomfortable silence slowly spreading throughout the bar. Without hesitation, you throw yourself between the two men, pressing yourself against Bob as he refuses to break eye contact with your brother. His arm immediately wraps itself around your waist, hand resting firmly on your waist, fingers deftly clinging to the material of your skirt. You lean into his touch, "Bobby, please. That's enough." Bob's gaze immediately turns to you, his forehead pressing against your own as he nods.

"M'sorry, darlin'." A small smile graces your lips as you savour the feel of his lips on your skin. All the while, Jake looks like he's going to combust.

"I'm sorry. Am I missing something here?" Both you and Bob chuckle, leaning into each other's touch as you turn to look at your older brother. The smile never leaving your face. With a sneaky glance to your boyfriend. " Do you want to tell him? Or should I?" A mischievous look passes over Bob's face as he moves his hand lower, gently resting it on the curve of your ass. "Nah, let him figure it out."

With arms wrapped around each other you, you giggle moving to pass your brother as he stares dumfounded, his brain trying to comprehend his little sister and Bob being together.

"C'mon Bagman, we thought you were smarter than this."

"Bobby!"

"Sorry, darlin."

**Author's Note: This isn't my best but I wanted to start writing for Bob because I can't get him out of my head...

[4eversleep1ng]

CAMERA THINGS TO SCRIPT ⋆ˎˊ˗

𐔌 . 📷 ֹ ₊ ꒱ - Your photos look ten times better than everyone else’s even if you’re taking a picture of the exact same thing.

𐔌 . 📷 ֹ ₊ ꒱ - People find themselves unconsciously moving away when you are taking a picture. No one ever gets in the way even if it’s a crowded area. / no one ruins or photobombs your pictures.

𐔌 . 📷 ֹ ₊ ꒱ - Your entire camera roll could be a Pinterest board with how aesthetically pleasing the pictures you take are.

𐔌 . 📷 ֹ ₊ ꒱ - Every picture in your camera roll is edited without you having to do so. (Optional)

𐔌 . 📷 ֹ ₊ ꒱ - None of your photos will ever be blurry or grainy.

𐔌 . 📷 ֹ ₊ ꒱ - Your phone doesnt automatically put a filter on the photos you take. (I hate this so much)

A/N: sorry for the lack of content, both in this and in posts. I’ve been focusing on shifting rather than shifting content so I might not be posting as much 🥲.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Antiblackness Isn't Sexy!

As #Kinktober is upon us, I want to take this time to remind everyone that certain things may not carry the same "sexy" connotation for everyone! This isn't just a "your yuck is my yum" situation, this is a "hey, you're being racist" situation. Now if that's what you enjoy, I can't tell you otherwise. But if you'd like to be considerate towards your Black readers and peers, here are *some* (not all!) things to keep in mind:

1) Objectification is not respect. You can think Black people are sexy- I certainly do! That does not mean treating us like sex toys. An example: if your first thought when you look at a Black male character, is "This'll be good smut, I bet his dick is gigantic"- if your first thought is about their genitals and that they're a good fuck... That is weird. Abeg. Nothing else stood out to you? Just ye olde "Black men have big dicks?"

There's a racist and dehumanizing history behind the oversexualization of Black men, Black bodies in general. Sure, big penises are not insulting or bad, but just as you don't want to be brought down to your bits... Don't do it to us. We can be sexy without being objectified. You can think we're sexy without objectifying us!

2) Making your Black character more sexually aggressive (if fic: -than their canon counterpart). Your Black character having a high libido is fine, but if you've essentially written a sex pest, especially in comparison to a nonblack counterpart... Why? Why do you think that they're automatically the one that would be like that? One example of that is the whole "step on me mommy" thing with confidently sexy Black women. What makes you deem she's the "aggressive" one? She could be a gentle pillow princess.

3) Making your Black character more physically hulking (if fic: -than their canon counterpart). They don't look like that, you know they don't look like that, and you need to consider why you felt the need. Especially in comparison to their nonblack counterparts.

4) Chains and whips, Specifically the large, hulking Black or Brown character in chains held by a skinny white character. Especially if they're like a werewolf. You know why these visuals can be questionable! I know the intended symbolism is supposed to be steamy and animalistic, a bodice ripper deal. But think about it- how often have you seen the opposite- with a skinny Black person holding a hulking, animalistic white person in chains? What imagery are we evoking when we draw this, constantly? We are not animals, we are not raging, uncontrollable sex beasts.

Consensual sex and kink are supposed to involve respect between all parties. Respect, communication, vulnerability, and trust. You can have an interesting, sexually active, high libido, kinky Black character without morphing them a stereotype to be used for the sexual satisfaction of white viewers. Just as white people that do kink are humans with inner lives, so are we. Do better by your Black characters, and your Black readers, by showing us that respect. 👍🏾

[chrome-barkz-aac]

i made this instagram post !!! there isn't as big of a community of AAC users on instagram so I thought I would share this on my instagram (@cytochromesea).

EDIT: i got an ask that states that not everyone knows what AAC is which is an oversight on my part, it stands for alternative and augmentative communication!

Image ID:

A light blue background with a rainbow and a cloud and some stars. There is a blue border collie with wings holding an aac tablet that says I love you! Text reads: AAC etiquette. Do’s, Don’ts, and other stuff. By cytochrome sea.

The same background appears in every following slide. Text reads:

AAC is my voice! It is not a toy or accessory

Don’t touch my AAC without my permission

Don’t take my AAC away from me, for any reason (joke, punishment, etc)

Don’t press buttons randomly or flip through my communication cards without permission

How would you like it if I randomly poked you on the mouth and throat (or on your hands if you sign)? It would be unpleasant, so don’t do that to me

Some AAC users can speak sometimes. It is not your business why someone can or cannot talk

Don’t ask questions about why an AAC user cannot speak. 

Do let us communicate however is best for us in that moment

Don’t ask us if or when we will be able to speak verbally. It’s not your business 

Do not value verbal speech more highly than AAC. Any communication is good communication

Some of us never talk, either, and that’s ok! Those of us who can talk sometimes are not better than those of us who can’t. None of us owe you an explanation for our use of AAC.

Don’t look at my screen until I show you. It feels really invasive!

It feels like when someone is looking at your phone screen over your shoulder, so please don’t do this

This applies to low tech AAC as well, don’t look at someone’s cards or letter board until they show you

You have the dignity of forming your thoughts in your head before you say them, whereas my thoughts are all on display. Please afford me the same dignity that you get automatically.

Don’t shame someone for not being able to speak verbally. It makes us feel horrible

We are real people with thoughts and feelings. Please treat us with kindness. 

We are trying our best

Don’t shame someone if their device mispronounces a word. It’s quite literally out of our control.

Other Don’ts. Don’t

Don't Treat an AAC user as childish or stupid for not being able to speak. Our ability to speak does not define our worth

Don't Show frustration at the way someone communicates

Don't Make comments about how fast or slow we communicate

Also don’t…

don't Act surprised when we swear or talk about adult topics like sex, drugs, or violence. We are not pure uwu precious smol beans, we are normal fucking people

don't Assume what is “wrong” with us. There are about a hundred reasons for someone to use AAC and you probably aren’t the expert in any of them.

“OK, so what CAN i do?” im glad you asked! When interacting with an AAC user, DO…

Ask us how we prefer to communicate and support us as you are able

Assume that we are competent

Talk to us with the same respect, tone and vocabulary that you would for any one else

Give us money (this one is a joke)

Understand that AAC grammar isn’t perfect and we are doing our best

Is it rude if…

I can’t understand your device? Not rude! Misunderstandings happen all the time in any conversation, just be patient as you would normally. 

I want to complement your AAC? Not rude!

I ask to see your AAC and understand how it works? This isn’t rude if you are already talking about AAC, but don’t ask random strangers this. They don’t owe you an AAC tour. 

Thank you for listening! This post is for the community! If you are an AAC user, let me know if I missed something in the comments and I will pin it! I hope you are filled with peace and love and I hope something good happens to you today! End ID. 

[sugary-strawberry-shortcake]

“Stay in Bed”(Yandere Platonic! Batfam x Reader)

A/N: I made this based on two asks. And I’m sorta satisfied with the outcome. Could be better but it already got so long.

It started with something small — it always did.

She was sitting in the kitchen, curled on one of the tall barstools with a textbook propped open in front of her and a mug of tea in her hand. Her usual favorite — honey and chamomile — untouched. Dick had only been passing through the Manor that morning, en route back to Bludhaven, until he paused mid-step, his eyes locking on her.

“Little Flower,” he said, almost casual, but his voice hitched on the end.

She didn’t lift her head. Her cheek was propped against her palm, and her lips were slightly parted, breath too quiet. Her lashes trembled. Her eyes were unusual dull.

He crossed the kitchen in two strides. “Y/N,” he said again, this time softer. Concern bled through. “Hey.”

That got her attention. Her head snapped up — too fast — and she blinked at him like someone just waking from a dream. She smiled automatically, and he hated (and also loved) that about her — how she always smiled like it was her job to put everyone else at ease.

“I’m fine,” she croaked.

Dick’s brows furrowed. “That’s funny,” he murmured, crouching beside her and pressing the back of his hand to her forehead before she could stop him. “Because you feel like a fever wrapped in fleece.”

“It’s not bad,” she mumbled. “Just a cold. I still have to get to school—”

“No, no, nope. Absolutely not.” He was already pulling his phone out. “You’re staying home. That’s final.”

“I have a presentation.”

“I’ll present it for you. I’ll wear a wig. Get surgery and makeup to be half as cute as you and shorten my legs. It’ll be great. I’ll cry on cue.”

She gave a weak laugh. Her shoulders sagged.

Dick leaned forward, gently tugging her against him. “You don’t have to push yourself, okay? You’re allowed to be taken care of.” His voice dropped lower. “Let us take care of you.”

And just like that, the first domino fell.

⸻

She had expected more fight from Dick. But the real battle came twenty minutes later, when Damian came storming downstairs in his uniform and found her still in the kitchen, pale and swaying like a paper daisy in the wind.

“What is she doing here?” he asked Dick sharply, eyes narrowing. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your uniform downstairs and waiting for me?”

“She’s sick,” Dick answered for her. “Fever. Sore throat. Lethargic.”

Damian made a sound of pure contempt. “A minor inconvenience. My sister is stronger than a mere virus.”

“Your sister couldn’t stand up straight five minutes ago.”

“I’m not fragile,” Y/N said — but it came out more like a whimper than a protest, and she immediately went into a coughing fit.

“Tt,” Damian said, disgusted. “You sound like a dying goose.”

Dick smacked him lightly on the back of the head.

“She’s not going,” he said, more firmly this time.

Damian crossed his arms and glared. “Fine. But I’m sending Titus to stand guard. Can‘t trust any of you with her safety.”

“That’s not—”

But Titus was already at her side, nuzzling into her with a soft whine, curling around her legs as if she might disappear again.

Y/N’s heart tugged. “Thanks, Dami.”

He didn’t answer. Just turned and stalked off with his usual drama. But she caught the way his ears turned red.

_______

“Bed,” Dick said sternly, standing at the edge of the couch with his arms folded, looking every bit the overbearing parental figure he’d once sworn he’d never become. Not even ten minutes after Damian had left to go to school, Y/N had gone to the living room. She wanted to do some schoolwork and not slack off even when she felt like shit. But to her surprise (not) her oldest brother would not allow that.

“I said I’m fine,” she mumbled, blanket half-hugged to her chest. But Dick had her in his arms already. Her head to his broad chest.

“And I said bed.” His voice was gentler this time, but it brooked no argument. “Now.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

Ten minutes later, she was tucked beneath two layers of blankets in her room — the same room that had only recently been refilled with her things. The elephant plush was nestled against her pillow. Titus lay sprawled at the foot of her bed, assigned by Damian with militant precision before he left for school.

Dick stood over her with a mug of tea in one hand and a digital thermometer in the other. The look on his face wasn’t warm — it was too tense, too strained. Every time he looked at her, it was like he was trying to count her breaths.

She rolled her eyes but drank the tea. He sat beside her and tucked a hand against her temple.

“Still hot,” he muttered. Then, half under his breath: “Still too hot.”

“Are you gonna take my vitals every five minutes?”

“If I could shrink myself down and fight the virus directly, I would.”

She laughed weakly, then coughed harder than she expected to. Her ribs hurt.

Dick’s eyes darkened. He pressed a hand gently to her back and looked like he was about to break down her immune system with sheer older-brother rage.

⸻

By mid-afternoon, her temperature had climbed.

“She’s at 39.4,” Alfred said in a hushed voice, leaning beside Dick in the hallway. “She’s sleeping, but her breathing is shallow. I don’t like how warm her hands are.”

Dick ran a hand through his hair. “I should’ve called a doctor.”

“You did everything right,” Alfred said. Then added, more quietly, “But perhaps you should inform your father.”

Dick hesitated.

He didn’t have to decide. Alfred already had.

Ten minutes later, Bruce Wayne was out of a board meeting and halfway home, leaving Lucius Fox behind with nothing but an insincere apology and the glare of a man who’d just been told his daughter was sick and hadn’t been informed immediately.

He arrived at the Manor like a storm.

“Why,” he asked as he stepped into her doorway, coat still flung over his arm, “did no one tell me my daughter was burning up?”

“Bruce—” Dick started, but Bruce was already moving.

She stirred when he entered. Blinked sleepily. “You’re home early,” she mumbled.

He went still. The sight of her was worse than he expected.

Her cheeks were flushed with fever, her lips dry, eyes half-lidded and glassy. She looked impossibly small beneath the layers of bedding. One hand clutched her elephant plush like a lifeline.

Something inside him cracked. He crossed to her and sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from her face.

“I’m here now,” he said quietly.

“Daddy,” she whispered sleepily. The word was hoarse.

He froze.

And then he didn’t leave her side for the rest of the day.

⸻

Tim dropped into the cave late that night, eyes hollow from another twelve-hour stretch in front of every digital system he could access. Between corporate work and vigilante patrol, he’d still made time to set up two separate medical monitors for her room — just in case anything went wrong while she was asleep.

He also installed a retinal scanner at her door. Just in case.

He stepped inside her room under the guise of checking her fever, but lingered longer than necessary. Her breathing was soft. Her skin still too warm. She stirred occasionally, muttering things in her sleep that made his fingers twitch toward his tablet.

She was always too good, too pure — and none of them deserved her.

But she was theirs. And she was staying.

Even if he had to put tracking software on her toothbrush.

⸻

By the next morning, she was worse.

The fever hadn’t broken. Her throat was raw. Her nose was congested, and she barely touched the soup Alfred made.

The change was visible across the entire family.

Dick stopped his forced smiling. Damian barely spoke. Tim didn’t blink during his patrol.

And Bruce — Bruce stayed at the Manor. He read to her in low, grave tones. He wiped her forehead with a cloth. He held her hand and stared at the pulse in her wrist like it was the only thing keeping him sane.

Even Jason checked in.

Not through the door. Not loudly. But at midnight, when the house was still, the window creaked open and the floorboards whispered beneath his boots.

He sat beside her bed, hands gloved, movements careful.

“Don’t you scare me like this,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “You hear me, Bloom?”

She didn’t answer. But she breathed — just enough.

The doctor came.

Private. Discreet. Paid well enough not to ask questions about the growling dog in the hallway or the collective glower of Gotham’s most dangerous men all crowded outside a feverish girl’s room.

“It’s not viral,” the doctor concluded with a quiet voice. “A severe immune response, most likely. But with proper rest, hydration, and this medication—” he tapped a slim white bag “—she’ll recover just fine.”

Bruce didn’t move.

Dick nodded. Tim took the bag.

Damian stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes locked on his sister with a silent, sharp glare.

“She’s too weak because she doesn’t eat right,” he muttered. “I keep telling her—”

“We’ve all been watching her eat,” Dick said, voice tight. “She eats.”

“Not enough protein. Not enough iron. You think tea and cookies will make her stronger?”

Bruce only murmured, “She sleeps too little.”

Tim added, “She gets cold too fast.”

Jason, from where he stood in the shadows, snapped, “Maybe because she grew up being ignored in a stone mansion, freezing her little hands off while everyone played hero.”

Silence followed. No one argued.

But all their eyes went to the bed.

⸻

The moment the door closed behind the doctor, the interrogation began.

“I don’t like the pills,” she mumbled, burritoed in her blankets and turned to the wall.

Dick knelt beside the bed. “They’ll help your fever.”

“No.”

“Y/N—”

“I don’t want to. They taste weird.”

“You’re not taking them for the taste.”

She burrowed deeper into the pillow. Her voice muffled. “I’m not sick. Just tired. Let me sleep.”

Damian let out a breath sharp as a blade. “You are sick.”

“You’re being dramatic—”

“And you’re being ridiculous, brat. Tt. Open your mouth.”

“No!”

He reached for the pill bottle, already halfway prepared to pinch her nose shut if she wouldn’t swallow on her own.

Dick stopped him with a hand.

“She’s scared,” he said gently.

“She’s being stubborn.”

Tim crouched by the desk. “We can crush it in honey—”

“She’ll taste it,” said Dick.

Bruce stepped into the room again, looming large in the doorway like a final verdict. “Give them to me.”

He approached her, slow and careful, but his presence was too heavy. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and she immediately shifted away, curling tighter into herself.

“Princess,” he said. “You need to take the medicine.”

She shook her head.

He sat beside her. “If I have to make you, I will.”

She didn’t believe him.

She should have.

⸻

It was Dick who held her in the end. His grip tight but not hurtful. She struggled — weakly, sickly, with tearful defiance — but her arms were too light. Her body too hot. She whined, kicked once, and let out a sob when the pill was pressed into her mouth and the bitter syrup followed behind it, held between firm fingers and cradled limbs.

And then Tim’s soft voice: “Just a little sedative, to help her rest.”

Her eyes fluttered.

“Why?” she whispered. Her voice broke. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because we love you,” Dick said into her hair.

She looked at him, dazed, betrayed. “This isn’t love.”

But she was too drowsy to keep speaking

________

When Jason returned that night — just past 1:13 a.m. — he didn’t expect her to be awake.

But she was.

He pushed open the window and landed softly on the carpet. Titus raised his head from the rug but didn’t bark. He knew Jason.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she murmured.

“You’re supposed to be knocked out.”

She smiled faintly. “Guess your little flower’s stubborn.”

Jason didn’t laugh. He crossed the room, knelt beside her bed, and studied her too-hot cheeks and glassy eyes. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll find out who gave you this.”

She blinked. “It’s a fever.”

“Still. Someone coughed in your direction and I’ll rearrange their lungs.”

She laughed, but it turned into a cough. He leaned over and brushed her hair back, palm pressing gently to her forehead. She leaned into his touch, liking the coldness of his hands.

Still too warm. He didn’t speak for a while. Just stayed.

And then she said softly, “You guys overreact too much.”

Jason didn’t argue. He looked at her, eyes sharp and a little wild.

“I overreact because I remember what it felt like to lose you once,” he whispered. “I’m not doing it again.”

She stared at him. Eyes wide.

He leaned closer.

“You know what I think?” he murmured. “I think we should lock you in a nice, warm white cell. No windows. No exposure. No people. Just books and music and plants. I’ll bring you cookies. You’ll be safe.”

She laughed again, nervously. “That’s… extreme.”

“But you’ll be alive.” He crawled onto the bed, pulling her gently to him. “And that’s all I care about.”

She didn’t answer. Just pressed against his chest, too tired to resist.

He held her there.

And he didn’t leave until morning.

________

The others had patrol.

Dick had retreated to Bludhaven for an overdue meeting. Tim had returned to the Cave to track movement reports. Jason… well, Jason never reported anything. But he’d texted a blunt “You better not let anything happen to her” at 3 a.m.

Which left Damian. The least emotionally expressive. The most overbearing.

The perfect jailer.

He sat stiffly at her desk, legs crossed, scribbling something on school documents, half-watching her from the corner of his eye every third second. She lay bundled in bed, propped up by pillows, face still pale, still recovering.

But her eyes were clearer.

Too clear.

“You’re bored,” he muttered before she even said anything.

Her lips quirked. “Maybe.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“You were going to ask to leave the bed,” he said without looking up. “Or to go outside. Or to play some insipid game. None of those are acceptable.”

She frowned at him. “You’re no fun.”

He smirked. “You’re no doctor. Stay put.”

“I’m feeling better.”

“You’re still coughing.”

“You’re literally watching me like a hawk while doing your little paper assignments.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed. “This ‘little paper’ is an annotated comparative essay worth thirty percent of my literature grade.”

“Wow. You actually take grades seriously? Thought you didn’t need school because you’re a born genius.”

“Not when you’re around to be a walking medical hazard,” he snapped.

She stuck out her tongue. “You’re mean.”

“And you’re an idiot if you think you’re walking anywhere.”

Despite the bickering, the corners of her mouth twitched. There was something oddly familiar—comforting, even—in this dry, tightrope exchange. But Y/N wouldn’t be a Wayne if she wasn’t stubborn. The girl did try to sit up anyway, just to prove her cocky brother wrong. And the moment her feet touched the ground, the dizziness hit like a wave. Her limbs felt weak.

Her knees buckled.

But she didn’t fall.

Because Damian was there before gravity even finished its threat, arms tight around her waist, lifting her like she weighed nothing.

“Are you brain-damaged?” he hissed, lowering her back onto the bed with too much care. “Are you trying to collapse? Do you have any sense of self-preservation at all?”

She looked up at him, blinking. “I just wanted—”

“I don’t care what you wanted,” he growled. “You take one more step out of this bed and I will chain you to it.”

Her breath caught.

He noticed.

“…Tt.” His voice dipped, the edge blunting. “You know I would. Don’t test me.”

She bit her lip. Eyes shifting. But she nodded.

He sat beside her on the bed, silent for a while. She fiddled with the edge of the blanket.

“…I’m bored,” she said again, quieter this time. “And lonely.”

“I’m literally right here.”

“But you’re doing homework.”

He scoffed. But when she shifted slightly toward him, he didn’t move away.

Instead, he let her lean. He even tugged the blanket around her shoulders a little tighter and muttered something about her temperature. Her head settled against his arm. He stared at the wall, as if pretending not to notice how soft her breathing had become.

Minutes passed.

“…You can lie down, you know,” she whispered sleepily. “If you’re gonna be here.”

“I’m not—”

But she was already curled toward him, eyelids fluttering shut, breath warm against his side.

And Damian—after one more glance around the room, after one more stubborn sigh—lay down beside her. He let her arm rest against his. Let her cheek press into his sleeve. He didn’t move when she wrapped her fingers around his wrist.

Didn’t complain when Titus padded in and curled up by the foot of the bed.

Didn’t say a word when she sighed in her sleep, a whisper of “Dami” on her breath.

He watched her, for a long time.

He would never say it aloud. Not to her. Not to anyone.

But if she ever collapsed again like that—ever turned pale, ever broke into sweat, ever coughed until her voice cracked—he would burn every lab that sold her medicine. Destroy every hallway that made her walk too long. Fight the world’s air itself if it dared to make her lungs hurt.

He would become her walls. Her ceiling. Her gate. Her cage.

Because some flowers were too delicate to bloom in the open.

And no one would touch this one again.

Not under his watch.

[miumura]

SORRY, I NEVER MEANT TO! ♡ 보이넥스트도어

( 𝓢 ) ﹕ when and how they get caught crushing on you

──── 0t6!boynextdoor x crush ! gn ! reader ╱ ⌕ fluff ∿ w. teasing wc. 2.7K+ ( 2791 ) ｡ ｡ thank you anon for requesting !! i kind of added onto your idea, so i hope you don’t mind and i hope i did your idea justice ♡ !! also, thank you alya for the song choice 😊

❛❛ 💬 ❞ 𝗦𝗢𝗣𝗛 > 𓂃 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗖𝗞 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗕𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗙 ⋮ 🪽

MYUNG JAEHYUN

HOW IT STARTED: jaehyun would naturally have the fear of getting caught crushing on someone—who wouldn’t? the thought alone made him hyper aware of his own actions, worried that his eyes might linger on you for too long or that his words might carry a meaning he hadn’t intended to slip out. but, at least for now, it wasn’t something he had to lose sleep over. with the way jaehyun openly expressed his affection toward others, it was almost second nature—practically a habit ingrained into who he was. so, even when he found himself cooing at you a little too long, no one ever questioned it. he had always been seen as someone outwardly expressive, never one to hold back his emotions, so there was truly nothing for him to hide behind. the only way he could ever get caught was if he slipped up himself—which was exactly what happened. it had started as one of those rants he usually kept to himself, the ones where he could go on endlessly about the little things you did, the things that made you you. but this time, he wasn’t talking to himself–this time, riwoo had heard everything.

HOW IT ENDED: once riwoo “accidentally” let it slip, jaehyun’s first instinct was to play it off—because of course whatever he said wasn’t meant like that. it was a misunderstanding. a slip-up. nothing more. but—just like anyone else would—he isn’t able to escape the teasing the other members give him. his efforts of “damage control” will only go down the drain the moment the others start acting like they knew you better than he did. a simple “what do you even know more about y/n than me?” was all it took. jaehyun would automatically get defensive and start racking up all the information he had stored in his brain—your favorite music artists, the specific habits you’d do when it comes to specific things, and even being able to reenact the exact way you act when you’re put in certain situations. to make matters even worse (or funnier—depends on what member you ask), he would be doing all of this while his arm was firmly linked with yours, as if your presence would strengthen his claims. so really, the others don’t even have to try—jaehyun would do the absolute most to prove he knew you best. with this kind of teasing, this gets all the interactions everyone (jaehyun and you included) could possibly want out of this.

PARK SUNGHO

HOW IT STARTED: sungho would never try to make it obvious if he had a crush. he’s the kind of guy that would keep this kind of secret to the very end, ensuring that nobody could know (especially if he was going to end up backing out from confessing). he refuses to get his hopes up, especially with the absolute menaces (lovingly) he calls his friends. he knows that deep down once the members find out, they would instantly become the worst (or best, depending on the perspective) hypemen imaginable. so, he is definitely careful when it comes to making sure he stays composed. he never stammers, never turns red, never gives them any reason to suspect a thing—sungho knows what he needs to do to make sure that doesn’t happen. but for all his careful planning, there’s one way to break at (or all) his cool—you. all it takes is you grabbing his arm to get his attention or throwing an unexpected compliment his way, especially in front of others. for that not to be done in private, his so-called composure instantly fades. with nothing but an awkward chuckle, stiffened posture, and eyes darted anywhere but at you, that’s how park sungho gets caught by everyone—easily.

HOW IT ENDED: sungho is definitely prime teasing material—the kind of guy who reacts just a little too easily, making it impossible for the others to resist messing with him. they wouldn’t necessarily try to make him jealous, but flustering him? oh, absolutely. It’s almost like a game to them—seeing how quickly they can turn him into a blushing mess, and really, it never takes long. the second he does something even remotely considerate for you—whether it’s offering his jacket, checking if you’ve eaten, or holding the door open—he’s instantly bombarded with knowing looks and exaggerated “oohs.” so, if anything, sungho is doing anything to make sure they don’t say anything around you that could have a double meaning for his own sake. he tries so hard to stand his ground, pulling out the classic “it’s not what you think!” or “you’re seriously overanalyzing this.” and honestly, nobody believes him. but, with jaehyun, being the absolute menace he can be, he doesn’t just tease–he also plots. he always gets you involved in the most “subtle” (read: not subtle at all) ways. he’ll always pair you two together for things, casually nudge you to brush sungho’s hair out of his face, or set up situations where you’re the only one paying attention to him. anything to make sungho go red. it’s safe to say that it works all of the time and he hates loves it.

LEE SANGHYEOK

HOW IT STARTED: riwoo naturally tries hiding his feelings, but the shift in his energy whenever you’re around only gives it away. it’s not that he becomes nervous or fidgety–it’s the complete opposite. he relaxes. the tension in his shoulders eases, his voice softens, and his usual sharp focus on everything else fades, replaced by an unshakable awareness that you are in his presence. it’s the subtle things that give him away. the way his eyes instinctively follow your movements, how his expression almost unconsciously lightens when you enter the room. if you’re not there, there’s always a slight dip in his move–a sigh, a quick press of his lips together before he shakes it off and forces himself to focus on what he was doing again. so, when riwoo has a crush, he doesn’t just think about you–he thinks for you. if he bought the latest donut versions, he wonders if you would also like his favorites. if he’s listening to music, he wonders if you’d enjoy the choreography he’d make for it. it’s like you occupy an entire part of his brain that just won’t shut off. and when he’s around you, his mission is simple–make you smile. even if it means cracking the worst joke of his life, even if it barely makes sense, as long as he gets that reaction from you, it’s worth it. and with taesan noticing the rampage of jokes riwoo has been saying recently, he’s smart enough to know that something is going on. the moment he knows, taesan is already preparing himself to have the talk with riwoo before letting the rest of the members in on the secret.

HOW IT ENDED: once everyone finds out, riwoo immediately becomes more cautious. every move he makes around you is now calculated—or at least, he tries to make it that way. he knows that anything even slightly affectionate will be met with endless teasing, so he hesitates more than usual. but that doesn’t stop the others from commenting on his shy behavior. the second riwoo says or does anything remotely smooth, it’s over for him. the moment you leave, the members take turns nudging him, smirking as they ask, “what was that?”—mocking the way he unconsciously softened his voice when he spoke to you, the way his hands hovered for just a second too long when passing something to you. and even if he chooses to show any hesitation, that doesn’t stop them from their teasing. it’s easy to catch riwoo flustered—ask him a question about you and his face warms instantly, and he’s forced to spit something out—anything—even if his words come out a little rushed, a little awkward, a little too obvious. riwoo—thanks to taesan—barely has time to think before all eyes are on him for an answer. so, when it comes to displaying romantic gestures, you can already imagine riwoo praying that they show some mercy on him (spoiler alert: they never will).

HAN DONGMIN

HOW IT STARTED: when taesan gets a crush on somebody, he’s surprisingly open about it–but only once he’s sure his feelings are the real deal…and completely unsalvageable. until then, he is stuck in overthinking mode all the time. everything–absolutely everything–starts to become a potential sign. if your hands brushed his for a few seconds, was it by accident or done on purpose (and we all know what answer he is most leaning towards)? does the way you text with extra letters and random caps mean anything? every interaction lingers in his mind for the rest of the day, sometimes longer if he convinces himself there must be a deeper meaning behind it. and the funniest part? taesan thinks he’s so good at hiding it. however, the way he zones out mindlessly on his own with a blank look, it’s practically a dead giveaway that something is up. leehan, the observant one, is the first one to notice his odd behavior. at first, he tries to snap taesan out of it gently—calling his name, waving a hand in front of his face. but after the millionth time of being ignored, he resorts to nudging his bandmate hard. and that’s when taesan, without thinking, blurts out, “do you think y/n meant something with that?” …and the that in question was you buying him a snack during his break. once leehan realizes that taesan was dead serious, that’s when even he knows that there’s no saving him now. han taesan is too far gone. 

HOW IT ENDED: as taesan’s crush on you starts to become known to the rest–thanks to the other members–his internal conflict only grows stronger. with them being involved, his emotions bubble up, and it’s a mix of joy, confusion, and honestly, stress. does he feel happy now that he can bother anyone with his long rants about you? or is he simply overwhelmed by all the teasing and overanalyzing of every single interaction he has with you? who knows… but it’s definitely both at once. every time you’re around, they feed into his overthinking, fueling his doubts and flustered state with their constant comments. it’s enough to drive anyone mad—especially if leehan is constantly telling him that you feel the same way with his (hopefully not) out of reach explanations. he would definitely try to get the members to stop, but the way he tries to stay composed only gets them to want to do even more. so, they are relentless–hyping up every shared glance between you two, every word you share with him, and even the smallest gestures, like when you refill his water bottle for him. whenever something even remotely “romantic” happens, they all pretend to be oblivious—only to secretly take pictures of taesan’s red-faced, flustered expression, sending them to the group chat with one simple sentence: "looks like someone is in love." and well? at least they aren’t wrong about that–taesan can’t help but get lost in the thought of you. 

KIM DONGHYUN

HOW IT STARTED: leehan, at first glance, he seems unreadable, someone who can effortlessly hide his emotions. his words don’t always match his demeanor—so when someone casually brings you up in conversation, and he simply shrugs and says, “yeah, I like them,” which it doesn’t exactly scream romantic interest. If anything, his calm expression and even-toned voice make it seem like he’s speaking in the most platonic way possible. so, naturally, people assume that if leehan did have a crush, he’d be impossible to figure out. but… is it really that hard? is it really that hard to notice the way his head instantly perks up by the sound of your voice? how his gaze softens when you’re around, his eyes practically glossed over with adoration? it’s always the little things that give leehan away as his attention always naturally gravitates towards you. so, when woonhak first saw the first few signs, he slowly started to understand the given situation. he had watched the subtle shifts in leehan’s expression, the way he unconsciously reacts to you, and he knew… which still, what is better than knowing from the actual source, right? so, when woonhak notices how he turned silent and avoidant after pulling leehan away for a conversation, that’s when woonhak had his answer that he was annoyingly going to let the others know easily.

HOW IT ENDED: leehan has never been the type to argue just for the sake of it. if something is true, he won’t deny it—though, in this case, he wants to. leehan wants to refute the teasing, to brush it all off like it’s nothing. but the words—they’re barely at the tip of his tongue. and even if he did say nothing and attempts to block out their voices, his body language betrays him completely. the way his shoulders stiffen, the way the tips of his ears burn red, the way his eyes widen just a little too much—it’s fuel for the others to keep going. it’s always, “look he’s flustered!” or “did you see the way he was with y/n?”, which always throws him off the tracks. but, if leehan thinks that they only tease him because he hasn’t made any moves, he is clearly mistaken. whenever he lingers, hesitating over whether to do something sweet, the others loudly start talking amongst themselves, commenting on his every move as if he can’t hear them. but despite all of this, despite the relentless teasing and loud whispers (which, let’s be real, aren’t even whispers at this point), leehan still manages to push through. he still finds ways to approach you, still follows through on little gestures that he wants to make, even if it means enduring the aftermath.

KIM WOONHAK

HOW IT STARTED: woonhak thinks he’s being subtle. really, he does. he tries so hard to act normal, to not make it obvious that you have him wrapped around your finger—but it’s painfully clear that he’s hiding something. woonhak always makes you an absolute priority. so, with whatever you want–if he could–he would get it for you. all you had to do was utter two words, “i need”, and he’s instantly up and running. before you can even finish your sentence, he’s back—arms comically full, balancing a blanket, snacks, a filled water bottle, and somehow, your favorite show has already been queued up on his laptop. it’s honestly a miracle he manages to carry all of it without dropping anything. it’s even more surprising because when the others ask him for a favor, woonhak grumbles, sighs, maybe throws in a dramatic complaint before begrudgingly doing it anyway. but when it’s you? you rarely even get to hear a tone of refusal from him. the way he’s so eager to help (or be with) you, it gets sungho’s gears in his head to start turning. so, it’s only fair for sungho to tell the others about it just so he’s not the only one overanalyzing this.

HOW IT ENDED: along with sungho, woonhak is easily one of the best candidates for getting a reaction that anyone would look forward to when teasing. the other members have a literal field day once they find out that woonhak really likes you. once woonhak accidentally slips up about even the slightest thing about you—whether it be a random thought or simply bringing you up—the others are never living it down. it doesn’t matter what woonhak says or does; the others might pretend to take him seriously for a moment, but within minutes, they’re right back to their usual antics, teasing him relentlessly after any interaction he has with you. it’s almost as if every teasing method in the book gets used on him. sometimes, they’ll drop your name out of nowhere just to see how he reacts—cue woonhak falling for it every single time. other times, they’ll perfectly mimic his little habits, like fixing his hair or fussing with his clothes whenever you’re around, exaggerating every movement made. and the worst part? they don’t stop at just copying him. if woonhak so much as tries to be romantic, they’ll reenact the moment in the most over-the-top way possible, dramatically exaggerating his every word and gesture until he’s practically begging them to stop. and with that statement coming from woonhak, they agree under one condition: woonhak has to confess to you. only then, they could finally stop (to which they knew, they won’t).

‘💬’ ─── is this love by xg is stuck in my head

BND PERM TAGLIST (OPEN) — @juyeoz @j4d @itsactuallylina @rizzwoos @coiwony @htaesan @macapunoz @pumpkg

[bitchy-craft]

PICK A CARD: What they think of you

Hello and welcome to this reading! Here I will tell you what your specific person thinks of you. I hope you enjoy this reading!

masterpost > paid readings > patreon masterlist

Pile 1:

Your specific person sees you as an interesting individual. They see you watching them, they notice your gaze on them constantly. Even though your SP might not be completely aware of your intentions with them, they do know that you have some sort of interest in them (this isn’t automatically romantic). They find you sweet and cute, but most of all amusing. They haven’t had many people act around them the way that you do, it’s something that feels new and exciting. They mostly see you as this younger, adorable person (you don’t actually have to be younger than your specific person, this is just how they perceive you). Overall they don’t have that much of an opinion of you yet because they are aware that they could get to know you more. Because of this, they haven’t fully formed an opinion about you yet, but there are definitely a couple of characteristics they have found in you already.

extended reading > paid readings

Pile 2:

Your specific person doesn’t have much of an opinion about you. If they were asked they would most likely state that they do not know you at all and are therefore unable to give a truthful opinion on you as a person; because they have never formed one. They do find your looks appealing, but other than that you have never really crossed their mind. In your specific person’s mind, you are simply someone part of their life but not that significant. Now this doesn’t mean this cannot change, ‘side characters’ in peoples life often grow into a bigger and more important role as time progresses. They are definitely open to getting to know you better, but they would most likely not walk up to you first in order to do so, because you haven’t really piqued their interest. If you wish to get a more close relationship with the person you had in mind for this reading you are the one who should step up and start talking.

extended reading > paid readings

Pile 3:

Your specific person sees you as someone very kind-hearted, someone sympathetic and who cares about everyone and everything around them. To them sometimes you come over as a person who has way too strong morals, unrealistic ones even. They feel as if being so kind to the world puts you in harm's way because you are swayed that easily into helping people, into assuming the best of them. This person you have in mind sees you as someone who is very naïve, someone too good for this world maybe. They sometimes don’t take you that seriously because they have a hard time seeing you as a full-grown adult, or someone perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. Your specific person does really like you overall, finding you nice to be around and have in their life, they wouldn’t have wanted anything else. This person of yours definitely sees themselves almost like a parent to you, or a guardian, you being the child in this dynamic.

extended reading > paid readings