#because... you know... the flying... and stuff

[linoxpudding]

Inches In Between Us

summary: moment where you and him are caught too close for comfort… or maybe just close enough, tension simmers

pairing: skz x gn!reader

genre: slight angst, fluff, forced proximity trope

a/n: this one’s been sitting in my drafts forever (based on this request) I took my time crafting each moment to really bring the tension and emotion to life! comment below and let me know which scene had your heart doing somersaults ♡

Masterlist

~°~

Bang Chan (established relationship)

You flew across two countries just to see him.

You told yourself it was worth it—the late-night packing, the long airport waits, the time off you had to beg your manager for. You missed him. You missed you and him, and those Facetimes squeezed between rehearsals weren’t enough.

But now, sitting stiffly on the plush leather seat of the tour bus, knees locked together and jaw tight with frustration, you weren’t sure why you bothered.

You had claimed the wide back row—meant to seat four or five—but you sat all the way in the corner, facing the window, hoping to be left alone.

Chan’s voice had barely left your ears since the fight earlier—sharp words you both didn’t mean, silence that hurt more than shouting. He’d said he needed space.

So, you decided to give it to him.

Now that the schedule was over, the members and staff had scattered across the bus, most of them slouched in the two-seaters lining either side of the aisle. Some had earbuds in, some quietly scrolled their phones, but no one said a word about the tension radiating from the very back.

Chan climbed in last.

For a second, you thought—hoped—he’d take one of the many empty two-seaters. Maybe even sit with Minho or Changbin, who were already half-asleep a few rows ahead.

But no. He walked straight to the back and slid into the long seat. Not just the seat—but right next to you. Right up against you.

You blinked at him. “Seriously?”

In response, he just leaned back with a soft exhale, gaze forward.

Annoyed, you got up and moved to a two-seater near the middle of the bus. You didn’t look at him.

Seconds later, the seat dipped beside you again.

You didn’t even have to look to know it was him. The quiet, stubborn presence. That familiar scent. The way your thigh brushed against his because the seat was narrow and neither of you budged.

You huffed, loud enough for only him to hear, but said nothing. You didn’t want to draw attention. Not to the fight. Not to how your heart still sped up when he was near—even now.

His thigh pressed against yours, his shoulder brushing yours. There wasn’t enough room not to touch unless you climbed out the window. You didn’t move. Neither did he.

You refused to look at him, eyes glued to the streetlights racing by outside. Still, you felt him— his quiet sigh, his fidgeting fingers. The way he turned his body toward you, even if he didn’t say a word.

"You’re really not gonna say anything?" he finally whispered, voice low enough that no one in front could hear.

You shrugged.

"You were the one who said you needed space," you murmured bitterly, still not looking.

He was silent for a long second, then said, "Yeah. I was wrong."

"You can’t just say stuff like that and expect it to go away, Chan."

"I know," he said. "That’s why I’m here. In your space. Because I don’t want it. I want you."

“You told me to fly out. You wanted me here. And then you barely looked at me all day.”

Chan’s jaw tensed. “I didn’t mean to—”

“You think that makes it better?” Your voice cracked. “I cleared my schedule, booked time off, flew across countries just to watch you pull away from me every second. I know what dating an idol means, Chan, but this—this felt different.”

He looked like he’d been punched. “I know. I messed up.”

He reached for your hand, tentative. You let him, but didn’t squeeze back yet.

“I thought if I focused on the tour stuff first, I could make time for you later. But I just pushed you away, I’m sorry, baby.”

You turned to the window again, biting your lip.

“I was just excited to see you,” you whispered. “And you made me feel like an afterthought.”

Chan exhaled shakily. “You’re not. You’re the only part of this I don’t want to mess up.”

His voice was rough, edged with guilt.

“For the rest of today, I’m yours,” he said, gently pulling your intertwined hands to his chest. “No staff. No members. Just us. And I swear, I won’t let you feel like this again. Let me fix it.”

You hesitated. But you looked at him and there it was again: that open, vulnerable gaze only you ever got. He was looking at you— eyes glassy, sincere, scared.

So you nodded.

He leaned in, his voice even quieter.

"You can keep being mad at me. I’ll sit here the whole ride, touching your knee like a loser, until you’re ready to forgive me. I just… I don’t want this silence anymore."

Your anger crumbled a little at the edges. He was ridiculous. Dramatic. Stubborn. And yours.

You huffed, barely hiding the smile tugging at your lips. "You’re squishing me."

"Good," he said, bumping your shoulder gently. "I missed you."

You let your head drop onto his shoulder, just for a second. “You’re lucky we’re in public.”

He smirked. “Trust me. I know.”

Lee Know (frenemies)

It was supposed to be a relaxing weekend. A break from the city, from work, from stress.

A weekend camping trip with all your friends consisting of a bonfire, setting up tents, good food, and no cell service— sure, it sounded cute on paper. Until you found out Lee Minho was coming too.

Minho. The eye-roll king. Your arch nemesis in every group chat and game night. The one who always had something smug to say, who knew exactly how to push your buttons and enjoyed doing it.

So, here you were, standing in the middle of a forest clearing with an uneven patch of dirt under your shoes, mosquitoes humming in your ears, and Minho—a.k.a. your personal plague—stretching beside you like he owned the woods.

You didn’t even want to make eye contact.

“Alright!” Chan clapped his hands. “Everyone gets paired up in tents—but, to make things fun, we’re drawing sticks.”

Groans went up immediately, mostly from you and Jeongin.

“What is this? Summer camp?” you muttered.

“Exactly,” Felix grinned, holding out the small bundle of color-coded sticks. “Pick your destiny!”

One by one, your friends picked sticks, with excitement and curiosity filling the air.

You pulled yours last. It was red.

And then your heart sank.

“Red too,” Minho called casually, holding his up and locking eyes with you.

You blinked. “No. Nope. Pick again.”

He smirked. “Aw, are you scared of sharing a tent with me?”

“More like scared for my sanity.”

You whipped around to Han. “Please, just switch with me. I’ll give you my hoodie—the one you love. Or that extra brownie from earlier!”

Jisung burst out laughing, already dragging his guitar to a fancy-looking tent. “Can’t switch! I got the one with the LED light strip and padded floor. I’m not giving THAT up for your romantic tension!”

“There is no tension,” you barked. “Only rage!”

Minho was already walking toward your sad, lopsided tent, humming like he was enjoying every second of your meltdown. You shot pleading eyes at Chan, at Hyunjin, at anyone—but they were all pretending to be busy adjusting gear or unrolling mats.

Betrayal. Pure betrayal.

Sighing dramatically, you picked up your bag and trudged after Minho, muttering curses under your breath. Grumbling and defeated, you stomped into the tent, tossing your bag to the far corner. The inside was cozier than you expected, but that didn’t mean you were happy about it. 

“Okay but seriously,” you said, peering into the tent, “why is there only one camping mattress?”

Minho, behind you, tsked. “You lost. I shouldn’t have to suffer.”

“You think I didn’t suffer the moment I saw your face and ‘red stick’ in the same moment?”

He didn’t answer, just ducked inside and threw his sleeping bag onto the narrow mattress—if you could even call it that. It was barely wider than your body, lumpy, and definitely not meant for two.

“Oh, hell no,” you snapped, following him in. “That’s not just yours.”

Minho raised an eyebrow as he flopped down and smirked. “You wanna sleep on the floor then?”

“No. You sleep on the floor.”

“I got here first.”

You both stared at each other for a moment. The unspoken war was real. 

“Fine. I’m not giving it up,” you stubbornly said and climbed in.

There was maybe—maybe—three inches of space between your bodies. Arms touching. Legs bumping. Shoulders pressed awkwardly side-by-side.

This was not ideal.

“Stop moving,” you hissed as he adjusted.

“You’re poking me with your elbow!”

“You’re hogging the blanket!”

“Your knee is in my spine!”

A moment passed.

Silence.

Then, somehow—inevitably—you both stilled. The night was quiet outside the tent, filled only with the distant crackling fire and soft murmurs from the others. Inside, the air was warm. Heavy.

You could feel the rise and fall of his chest. Every little breath.

His eyes met yours. And you didn’t look away.

The bickering faded. The closeness became unbearable in a different way. His face was inches from yours, eyes flickering from your mouth to your gaze and back again.

Your heart pounded. Loud. Messy. Dangerous.

“Don’t snore,” you broke the silence.

“I don’t snore,” Minho piped up, rolling his eyes. “But I do talk in my sleep. Usually insults.”

“You’re really annoying,” you whispered.

“So are you,” he replied quietly.

But he didn’t move away. And neither did you. His hand brushed yours under the blanket. Barely touching. But enough to make your breath hitch.

You both leaned in—slow, tentative, until your noses almost touched—

“Yah! Who stole the marshmallows?!”

Han’s voice rang outside the tent and you both jerked away like you’d been electrocuted.

Minho cleared his throat, turning stiffly onto his side. “Sleep. Now.”

You swallowed hard, heart racing, facing the opposite direction.

But long after the outside voices faded, you stayed awake, replaying that moment—one breath away from disaster.

*************************************

The sun had barely risen over the quiet campsite, dew still clinging to the grass and birds chirping in the distance. Most tents were still zipped up, the fire pit long gone cold.

Han yawned dramatically as he and Hyunjin wandered toward your tent, both of them tasked with rounding people up for breakfast duty. "Let’s just yell and run," Han muttered. "Classic wake-up strategy."

Hyunjin shushed him. “No, I want to see their faces. Especially those two.”

Han smirked. “Ohhh right. Mortal enemies sharing a tent. Bet they killed each other in their sleep.”

They unzipped the tent slowly, careful not to wake any potential dragons.

But what they did see stopped them in their tracks.

Inside, the two of you were a complete mess of limbs—your arm flopped across Minho’s chest, his hand loosely resting on your waist, legs tangled beneath the thin blanket. One of his knees was even wedged between your thighs, and your face was tucked into the crook of his neck.

Utterly relaxed. Peaceful. Intimate.

Hyunjin let out a quiet gasp. “Oh my God.”

Han clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Dude. What… the hell?”

Hyunjin grinned. “So the tension finally melted.”

Han whispered, “Yeah. Into a puddle of cuddles and potential kisses? Do you think they kissed?”

Hyunjin smirked, “It might’ve happened.”

They slipped away without waking either of you—though Han did snap a silent photo on his phone, “just for documentation.”

However, the quiet rustling outside was just enough to stir you.

You blinked, stretching a little—only to freeze the second you realized something was very wrong.

Your cheek wasn’t against your pillow.

It was on someone's chest.

Warm. Steady. Rising and falling slowly beneath you.

You shifted just a little—and then you noticed it. Minho’s arm around your waist. One of your legs slung over his. His hand resting lightly on your back.

You nearly stopped breathing.

And just then, he stirred too—brow furrowing, eyes fluttering open. He blinked once. Twice. Then looked down.

Right at you.

There was a beat of silent realization. Eyes locking. Tension crackling in the small, stuffy tent.

Your breath caught. His hand twitched on your back.

“…You—”

“This isn’t—” you both started at once.

You scrambled back in a panic, elbowing the tent wall as you untangled your legs and rolled toward the exit. “I—I didn’t mean to—!”

“You’re the one who shoved me over in your sleep!” he whisper-hissed, equally flustered, hair a mess and voice rough from sleep.

You yanked the zipper open and practically ran out, heart pounding, cheeks burning.

The morning air slapped your face as you stumbled into the open, hoping no one saw. (Too late.)

From the campfire pit, Han and Hyunjin exchanged a look—and then burst into laughter.

Inside the tent, Minho sat up, running a hand through his hair and muttering to himself.

“…So dramatic.”

But even as he said it, a faint, undeniable smile pulled at his lips.

Because your warmth still lingered on his skin.

And that moment—however brief—was now burned into him.

*************************************

Back at the communal camp kitchen, Han was making scrambled eggs while Hyunjin cut fruit, both humming softly. Minho emerged from the trees a while later, hair a bit messy, lips pressed in a line as he poured water into the kettle like nothing happened.

“You sleep okay?” Han asked innocently.

Minho side-eyed him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Han shrugged. “You know. Considering the person you used to say you’d rather fight a bear than share a tent with.”

Minho didn’t look up. “Shut up. There’s nothing between us.”

But then he hesitated. Almost like something tugged at him.

And when he glanced over his shoulder, there you were—laughing at something Felix said, your cheeks squished adorably in the cool air, your hair a mess from sleep. You tossed your head back as you laughed, eyes sparkling while Minho was watching. And he smiled softly. Almost in a daze, like it bloomed out of his chest before he even knew it was there.

Han caught it, catching the way Minho lingered just a second too long before turning back around.

He didn’t say anything.

He just smiled too—watching his best friend quietly fall.

Seo Changbin (friends to lovers)

Changbin’s apartment smelled like buttered popcorn and clean laundry.

It was your favorite place to be lately—low lights, cozy blanket, a ridiculous action movie playing on the screen, and him beside you, warm and familiar. Your legs were tangled casually over his, a bowl of popcorn between you, laughter spilling out as some over-the-top fight scene played.

"This is the dumbest movie you’ve made me watch," you grinned, tossing a popcorn kernel at him.

Changbin caught it in his mouth effortlessly and winked. "Admit it. You love it."

"I love mocking it," you teased, nudging his thigh with your foot.

He caught your ankle before you could pull back, grinning wickedly. “You sure you want to start something?”

You wiggled your toes defiantly. “What, you’re gonna fight me?”

“I could win.”

“You wish, Seo Changbin.”

That’s all it took.

Suddenly, the popcorn bowl was tossed aside, and you were squealing, squirming, as Changbin tackled you onto the couch in a flurry of limbs and laughter.

It wasn’t serious—just a mess of soft slaps, blocked pokes, mock grunts. You wrestled, pushing at his shoulders, but he was strong and quick, playful growls leaving his throat as he countered every move with ease.

“Okay, okay, I take it back!” you laughed breathlessly, trying to twist away.

He caught your wrists.

One smooth motion, and you were pinned flat against the couch cushions, Changbin hovering above you—knees on either side of your hips, hands holding yours gently but firmly down beside your head.

The laughter stopped. Well everything… stopped.

His chest was rising and falling, breath just a little uneven. Your wrists burned under his fingers, not from pressure but from presence. The movie still played in the background, but it was a muffled hum now—nothing compared to the thunder of your heart.

He was close. Too close.

His face hovered just above yours, eyes flickering over every part of your expression—your parted lips, your wide eyes, the heat that was now unmistakably there in both of your gazes.

Neither of you moved.

You swallowed hard. “Are you gonna let me up?”

He didn’t blink. “Do you want me to?”

You couldn’t answer.

Because maybe you didn’t want him to.

Your silence stretched. His grip loosened ever so slightly, just enough that your hands could move if you wanted—but you didn’t pull away. Not yet.

Your fingers curled around his wrists instead, and his breath caught audibly.

“You’re dangerous,” you whispered.

He leaned a little closer, voice low. “You bring it out in me.”

For a second—just a second—he dipped his head, your noses brushing, lips almost meeting. Almost.

But he hesitated. Like he needed permission. Like he didn’t want to cross a line unless you asked him to.

“Binnie…” you breathed, and that was all it took.

His forehead touched yours. Not a kiss, not yet—but his weight above you, his warmth, the want in his eyes was enough to melt you.

“You’re more than just a friend to me,” he murmured. “I’ve been trying to hide it for so long, but when you look at me like that—”

You surged up just enough to press your lips to his.

Soft. Careful. But charged like fire.

He kissed you back like he’d been waiting forever.

Changbin’s lips lingered on yours like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

You watched him in that small, quiet moment—his lashes brushing his cheeks, his hands still cradling your wrists. He looked… vulnerable. Not like the loud, confident Changbin who barked laughs and flexed his arms to annoy you. This was different.

He finally opened his eyes and met your gaze—softer now. Nervous, even.

“So…” he said, voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “Now what?”

Your heart flipped.

You smiled shyly and tugged your hands free, only to lace your fingers with his. “Now,” you whispered, “you help me up, because you’re crushing me.”

A breathless laugh escaped him, and he immediately rolled off to the side, reaching down to help you sit up. “Sorry,” he said, a little flushed. “Didn’t mean to KO you on the first date.”

You both paused.

You tilted your head. “So this is a date now?”

He looked a little caught, but the smile never left his face. “I mean… if you want it to be.”

You nudged his knee with yours. “Only if it ends with another kiss.”

Changbin turned bright red, chuckled, and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re gonna make fun of me forever for this, aren’t you?”

You leaned in, close enough that your noses touched again, your voice barely a breath. “Probably.”

He kissed you again—quick, sweet, like he couldn’t help himself.

Then he got up, held out his hand, and pulled you to your feet. Still holding on. Still close.

“So,” he said again, this time with a grin, “sleepover rules still apply. I’m making ramen. You’re picking the next movie. And maybe later, we kiss again.”

You smirked, tugging him toward the kitchen. “We’ll see if you earn it.”

“Hey!” he whined playfully. “I pinned you! That’s gotta count for something!”

“It counts as me letting you win, obviously.”

“Oh, it’s on.”

And just like that, you were back to bickering—but now, between the sarcasm and the teasing, were shy glances, soft smiles, and the kind of tension that didn’t need words anymore.

You’d always been close. Now, you were closer than ever.

Hwang Hyunjin (crushing on seonbae)

It was your second week as a trainee for a new girl group under JYP Entertainment, and you had already learned that the training schedule was intense. You were still trying to find your rhythm in a world filled with highly talented idols, and it felt like everything was moving too fast. You spent most of your time in the practice rooms, working on vocal exercises, choreography, and dance routines.

One day, after a particularly long session, you found yourself taking a quick break to catch your breath. You'd never thought you'd meet Hyunjin from Stray Kids during your training, but here you were, sitting in the corner of the studio, trying to recover from a grueling dance practice. He was in the middle of a solo routine, and you couldn’t help but watch, captivated by his flawless movements. The way he danced was mesmerizing, and for a moment, you forgot everything around you. You did harbour a huge secret crush on him. 

When his practice ended, he caught you staring, a playful smirk appearing on his face. “Like what you see?” he asked with a teasing tone.

Caught off guard, you blushed, quickly looking away. “Oh! Uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No need to apologize,” he interrupted, walking over to where you were sitting. “I saw you struggling with your choreography earlier. Need some help?”

You blinked, surprised by his offer. You had only been a trainee for a short time, and the idea of dancing with someone like Hyunjin made you nervous. But his smile was disarming, and you could tell he genuinely wanted to help.

"Actually, yes," you admitted, standing up. "I can't quite get the moves down for our routine. Maybe you could show me some tips?"

Hyunjin grinned, taking his place in front of you. "No problem. I'll teach you the basics, and we'll see if we can make it a little more fun."

He started by showing you the footwork, his body moving effortlessly to the beat. You mimicked his movements, but the steps felt awkward under your feet. Hyunjin noticed immediately and gave a little chuckle.

“You’re overthinking it,” he said, gently placing his hands on your shoulders. “Relax. You’re supposed to feel the music, not stress about the steps.”

His hands lingered just a second too long, and you felt a heat rush to your cheeks. You took a deep breath, nodding. “I’ll try again.”

You continued practicing, and as the movements started to feel more natural, Hyunjin encouraged you with small comments here and there. The choreography was getting better, but you were still a little offbeat.

"Okay, how about this," Hyunjin suggested. "Let’s do the next part together. I'll guide you."

Before you could say anything, he stood close behind you, his hand lightly resting on your waist to help guide your movements. His proximity caught you off guard, and your heart skipped a beat. The way his body was pressed against yours, his warmth radiating onto you, was almost overwhelming. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck as he leaned in to correct your posture.

“Here, just like this,” he said, adjusting your hips with his hands. The touch was gentle, but the closeness made it impossible to ignore the sudden tension in the air. You could feel your body growing tense, unsure of how to act with him so near.

His grip shifted slightly, and you found yourself in an almost perfect mirror of his stance. "See?" Hyunjin smiled, his voice low. "Much better."

The way his eyes locked onto yours made your breath catch in your throat. The dance had become less about learning the moves and more about the unspoken connection forming between you two in the space. His hands were still guiding you, his touch firm but soft, and every movement seemed to bring you closer together.

You both continued practicing, but it wasn’t long before the movements became more fluid, and you realized that it wasn’t just the choreography that was making you feel this way. Hyunjin’s presence, his proximity, was stirring something in you. Every time he adjusted your form, his hand would brush against your skin, sending a shiver through your body. Your heart beat faster, and the air between you felt heavier, charged with an unspoken tension.

At one point, you made a small mistake and spun the wrong way, causing your bodies to collide. For a brief second, you both froze, trapped in a moment of unintended intimacy. Hyunjin’s chest was pressed against your back, his arms still holding you in place as you both tried to steady yourselves. His breath hitched slightly, and you could feel his heartbeat racing against your skin.

You locked eyes, and for a second, everything else faded. The studio, the other trainees, the music—it was just the two of you, caught in this unexpectedly close moment. The space between you was nonexistent. The gentle brush of his fingers on your arm sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“Well,” Hyunjin said, his voice now husky, as he reluctantly stepped back, breaking the tension. “I guess we got a little… carried away.”

You bit your lip, trying to steady yourself. “I—I didn’t expect that,” you murmured.

He smiled, a little sheepishly. "Yeah, me neither. But hey, at least the moves are starting to look good, right?"

You nodded, though your thoughts were still a little scattered from the closeness you’d just shared. You both stood there for a moment, the silence between you filled with the lingering tension that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

“Well, if you ever need more help," Hyunjin said, his voice returning to its usual playful tone, "I’m just a call away.”

You gave a small, nervous smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

As he left the practice room, you stayed behind for a few moments longer, your heart still racing from the unexpected intimacy of the dance. There was a mix of excitement and confusion swirling inside you. What was that? Was it just the dance, or was there something more there?

You didn’t have time to answer your own questions because, as a trainee, there was always another routine to learn, another move to perfect. But as you left the studio later that day, your mind kept returning to the way Hyunjin had touched you, the way he’d held you close, and how in that one moment, you couldn’t tell if it was just dance… or something more.

Han Jisung (secretly dating)

It was game night, a regular gathering with the boys at their dorm, where laughter and playful competition filled the air. You'd been looking forward to this night, to unwind and enjoy their company, especially Han Jisung's. You were secretly dating him, keeping it low-key for the time being, but lately, it felt like a secret you wanted to shout from the rooftops. There was just one problem—you didn’t know how to tell the others without making things awkward.

Tonight, everyone was hyped up and playing a board game, the atmosphere light and buzzing with friendly rivalry. The stakes had gotten higher as the rounds went on, and the trash talk was flying. You and Felix had become a bit of an invincible duo—strategizing, making each other laugh, and working seamlessly together. 

But as Hyunjin leaned back in his chair with a smirk and exclaimed, “Oh my god, Felix and Y/N, you guys are totally an unbeatable duo!” the comment seemed to hit differently. Jisung, who had been quiet for a while, stiffened beside you, his eyes momentarily narrowing as he watched you laugh along with Felix.

You noticed the subtle change in his demeanor. A quiet jealousy simmered beneath his usual playful and easy-going attitude. You felt your stomach tighten with an instinctive pull toward him. Felix, oblivious to the shift, was still bantering with Hyunjin.

But Jisung was different. He was unusually quiet, and the energy in the room had shifted in a way that only you could sense. You could feel his gaze lingering on you for a little too long, and it made your heart race—nervous, excited. The tension between you two was palpable, something you both tried to keep under wraps.

As the game continued, you couldn't help but glance over at Jisung. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. His playful vibe had shifted into something more guarded. It wasn’t like him to stay quiet for so long, and it made you feel uneasy, like you had inadvertently caused the shift in the air.

Felix was deep in conversation with Hyunjin, while the others were absorbed in the game, but you couldn’t focus anymore. You excused yourself from the table, slipping into the hallway in an attempt to get some space. You figured you could give Jisung a moment to cool down or maybe even talk about whatever had been bothering him.

But before you could walk further, Jisung was there. You didn’t even hear him approach, but suddenly his hand was on your wrist, and he was gently tugging you toward the hallway leading to his room. “Hey, where are you going?” you asked, trying to keep the casual tone.

He didn’t respond right away, his grip firm but gentle. There was a certain intensity to his gaze now—his eyes darkened slightly, and his usual teasing smile was replaced with something more serious. “I need to talk to you,” he muttered, his voice low.

You didn’t say anything. You knew this wasn’t just about the game anymore.

When you reached his room, Jisung quickly closed the door behind you, his hand resting on the handle for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. The two of you stood in the middle of the room for a few seconds, the air thick with unspoken words.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t like the way you two were... getting so close. Felix and you, laughing together like that.” His eyes were intense, full of something you hadn’t seen before—something raw. “It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong, but… it makes me feel something I don’t know how to handle.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You stepped closer to him, instinctively. “Hannie…” you began, but he interrupted you.

“I want to tell them, baby. I want to tell everyone we’re together,” he said, his hand gripping yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles gently, though his voice was firm. “I’m tired of pretending like we’re just friends.” He took a step closer, his face inches from yours now. His breath was warm against your skin, and you could feel his heart racing in his chest, matching yours.

The proximity was overwhelming, intoxicating, and for a moment, you forgot everything around you—the noise of the game, the others in the house. It was just him, and the desire in his eyes. You couldn’t lie to yourself any longer; you felt the same way. You had been trying to ignore it, keeping your relationship under wraps for the sake of the group, but in that moment, it all felt like too much to keep inside.

You swallowed, struggling to find the right words. “I want to tell them too, baby. I really do. But…” you hesitated. “Do you think they’ll understand?”

Jisung’s eyes softened, and he gently cupped your cheek with his free hand. “It’s not about them understanding,” he said, his voice tender now, the tension easing from his shoulders. “It’s about us. I want to be open with everyone, especially with you. You mean so much to me.”

The words hung in the air, a promise wrapped in vulnerability. You were quiet for a beat, the intensity of the moment consuming you. Slowly, you nodded. “Okay. Let’s tell them. Together.”

He smiled, the usual playful glint returning to his eyes, but there was still an undercurrent of sincerity. Without another word, he closed the gap between you two and kissed you, soft and slow, as if savoring the moment that had been a long time coming. The kiss deepened, both of you letting go of the tension and unspoken feelings you’d been holding onto.

When you pulled away, your foreheads touched, breaths mingling. He whispered, “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

You smiled, your heart lighter than it had been in weeks. “Me too,” you said softly.

From that moment on, there was no more hiding. You were his, and he was yours, and that was all that mattered.

Lee Felix (colleagues to lovers)

The music video shoot had gone longer than expected, and most of the staff had either stepped out for a break or were busy resetting lights outside. The trailer where touch-ups usually happened—the one usually buzzing with stylists, cords, and brushes—was now completely empty.

You were the only one there, you were sitting on the couch scrolling through your phone when Felix popped in, flashing that signature grin and muttering, “Hyung said I need my hair re-gelled. Sorry,” like he was inconveniencing you, even though it was literally your job.

“Sit,” you said, trying to sound normal. Professional.

But nothing about Felix ever let you stay fully calm. Not the way he tugged off his jacket with one hand and tossed it lazily on the couch. Not the way his damp dark hair curled against his forehead, making him look more boyish, more human, than the stage idol version everyone else saw.

You stood behind him, gently combing through his roots. The gel hadn’t fully set, and you needed to rework it from the front.

"Can you tilt your head back?" you asked.

He did, but the angle was awkward. He sat too low in the chair, so you had to lean forward, your hips brushing the armrest. When you reached to push his fringe back, your chest nearly grazed his shoulder.

He stilled. You froze.

Then, in one ungraceful second, your foot slipped against the leg of the chair. Your balance tipped forward—too fast to catch. A small gasp escaped you as your knees bumped the edge, and suddenly you were no longer standing.

You landed on him.

Your hands flew to his shoulders to steady yourself, but it was too late—your body was already pressed against his, knees planted on either side of his lap, your faces just inches apart.

His breath ghosted across your cheek. Warm. Shaky.

Neither of you moved.

“Sorry—” you whispered, trying to push yourself back up.

But his hands had found your waist. Not tight, not holding, just there. Warm, grounding. And when your eyes met, something shifted.

“No—” he breathed, voice quieter than you’d ever heard. “Don’t move.”

Your breath caught.

“Felix—”

“I didn’t mind… I mean, it’s okay. I just…” His stammered.

You blinked at him, heart hammering, heat blooming across your chest and neck. You’d danced around this for weeks—maybe months.

The lingering stares, the way his smile always stretched wider when you were near. But this…

His hands were still on your waist. And for a moment, neither of you moved.

The only sound was the low hum of a distant monitor and your heartbeat hammering in your chest.

Then, slowly, his fingers reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch barely grazing your skin. The motion was so gentle, so intimate, that it made your breath hitch. And the moment his hand dropped, his eyes widened—like he hadn’t realized what he was doing until it was already done.

“I—I didn’t mean to—sorry, that was—” he breathed, voice shaky.

You didn’t move. Couldn’t. His cologne wrapped around you like a net, grounding and dizzying all at once.

“I just—” he went on, swallowing, “God, I’m sorry.”

You stared down at him.

His face was already flushed pink, his eyes still locked on yours like he wasn’t sure if he should let go or pull you closer.

“I didn’t mind,” you said quietly.

He blinked.

“What?”

Your voice came out softer this time, more vulnerable. “I didn’t mind. That you touched my hair.”

“Really?” he asked.

You nodded.

He exhaled through a breathless laugh, like disbelief. “Because I’ve been trying not to do anything like that since you started.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you,” he said instantly. No hesitation. Just the truth.

“And I didn’t want to make things weird. But God, you’re always so close, and you’re so gentle, and I’m pretty sure I’ve started dreaming about the way you touch my hair—”

You kissed him.

Quick. Certain. Nothing intense, just a quiet yes to everything he’d just admitted.

His hands tightened on your hips, grounding himself. “Okay,” he whispered against your lips, dazed. “Yeah. That just happened.”

You laughed softly and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. “It did.”

“I still need to finish your look,” you teased.

He grinned, pulling you even closer. “I think you just did.”

The silence was comforting this time. Not awkward but intimate.

Kim Seungmin (sunshine x grumpy)

When Chan invited you for a quiet weekend at his countryside farmhouse, you didn’t hesitate. It had been months since you last saw your best friend—too many midnight voice notes, too many “I miss you’s” with a sad emoji tacked on at the end. So you packed a bag and drove up that Friday evening, not even bothering to ask who else would be there. 

Chan had welcomed you in with the warmest hug and whispered, “Seungmin’s here. Try not to combust.”

You elbowed him, cheeks warm. “I don’t like him.”

“Sure,” he smirked.

Of course Seungmin was here. Still just as grumpy, still refusing to smile at your stupid jokes, still never calling you by your name—just “you” or “Chan’s friend.”

And yet, somehow, you still looked for him in every room.

By Saturday night, you were full of barbecue, three glasses into a fruity drink, and cozy in an oversized hoodie. Laughter buzzed through the warm-lit living room. Chan had pulled out board games and card decks, and Hyunjin tossed on a playlist. You and Seungmin had exchanged exactly four words since arriving: “Morning,” “Move” and “No, thanks”

After too many rounds of Mario Kart, Chan flopped onto the massive couch and clapped his hands. “Okay, new game. Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

“Are we in high-school?” you and Seungmin said in perfect sync from opposite ends of the couch.

Everyone laughed, but Chan just wiggled his eyebrows. “Come on, you’re all cowards. It’ll be fun.”

Chan started spinning a bottle, and before you could sneak away, your name was called—followed by Seungmin’s.

The room howled.

You whipped around to Chan, whispering furiously, “You rigged that!”

“Did not,” he said with a very smug expression. “Enjoy.”

The closet—tucked in the corner of the master bedroom—was dim, a little too warm, and far too tight for two people. The door shut behind you with a soft click.

“I hate them,” Seungmin muttered, already looking up at the ceiling like it might offer a hatch out.

You nervously glanced around in the little space. You took a breath. “Wow. Cozy.”

“Not really,” he said flatly.

You smiled anyway. “I forgot how much fun you are at parties.”

His lips twitched. The smallest, smallest smirk.

Minutes passed. Maybe only one. Maybe ten. You didn’t know. The quiet between you felt heavier than the night sky outside.

Then—he spoke.

“You flew all this way just to see Chan?” he asked.

Your brows rose. “Yeah, why?”

“No reason,” he said immediately, then hesitated. “Just… wondering.”

You took a step closer, trying to read him. “Why do you always look at me like I annoy you, but then keep showing up in every room I’m in?”

His jaw flexed. “You don’t annoy me.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

He pushed off the wall now, standing straighter, closer. “You’re… too much sometimes.”

You blinked. “Too much?”

“Too much sunshine. Too much sweetness. It gets under my skin.”

You smirked. “Good.”

He gave you a flat look. “This is ridiculous.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not.”

You grinned. “You are. It’s kind of cute.”

He glanced away, jaw tightening, but the pink in his cheeks betrayed him.

You leaned in just a little. “What’s wrong, Seungmin? Closet too small? Or is it just me that’s making you all flustered?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“You wound me,” you gasped, hand over your chest. “I’m just being friendly.”

“Yeah, well… maybe tone it down a little.”

You tilted your head. “But I thought I was ‘too much sweetness’ and ‘gets under your skin’—don’t tell me I’m growing on you.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you always talk this much?”

“Only when I’m stuck in a closet with my longtime crush.”

Seungmin froze.

Your eyes widened. Crap. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“…What?” he said after a beat, voice lower.

You scrambled. “I mean—not crush crush. I mean like, maybe. Possibly. Okay, definitely. For a long time. Like years-long. But you were always so—”

He took a step forward. You stopped babbling.

He didn’t say anything. Just looked at you for a moment, then leaned in slightly, voice dry. “Chan told me you’d be here.”

“…Okay?”

“I’ve been trying to act normal since yesterday.”

“That was you acting normal?”

He smirked, just a little. “I don’t flirt like you do.”

“I don’t flirt—”

“Really?” he stepped closer, close enough that your breath caught. “Then what would you call this?”

You were backed against the shelf, heart in your throat, eyes flicking between his and his mouth. He braced one arm beside your head, gaze sharp.

“…Trouble,” you whispered.

He smirked again—wider this time. “Yeah. You’re trouble.”

And then, just before the timer outside buzzed, he kissed you.

Slow, deliberate, and nothing like the annoyed boy who always pretended you were too much.

When he pulled back, lips barely grazing yours, he whispered, “Next time, we skip the game.”

And when the door finally swung open to the cheering crowd, neither of you said a word—but the heat in your face said everything.

Yang Jeongin (brother's best friend)

You hadn’t seen Jeongin properly in almost a year—well you really haven’t seen him much since he’d debuted and got busy with his idol life. But when your brother casually mentioned, “Jeongin’s having a little dinner thing at his place. Just a few of us. You should come—it’s been forever.”  something fluttered in your chest that you tried very hard to ignore.

You’d crushed on him since you were probably twelve, back when he was just your brother’s slightly awkward best friend who always let you have the last slice of pizza. And now? Now he was I.N—idol, heartthrob, and the same boy who still texted your brother dumb memes at 2am.

You didn’t expect much when you arrived—just polite greetings, awkward small talk, maybe a few inside jokes that would go over your head. But when Jeongin opened the door…

Your heart did that stupid thing again.

He looked tired but beautiful, hoodie sleeves pushed up, the kind of soft glow that came from being around people he trusted. He looked mature now—fame-polished, confident, sharper around the edges—but you still saw glimpses of the boy who used to chase your brother through your backyard, who used to steal popsicles from your freezer and grin like he won the lottery.

“Hey,” he smiled, eyes flickering over your face for a second too long. “Didn’t know you were coming.”

“My brother dragged me,” you said lightly.

Jeongin tilted his head, still holding the door open. “Good. I’m glad you’re here.”

The dinner was casual, cozy. Laughter echoed through the apartment, plates clinked, and stories flowed like old times. But something about the way Jeongin kept glancing at you when your brother wasn’t looking—when he refilled your drink before anyone else’s, when your knees accidentally touched under the table and he didn’t move away—it felt like you weren’t imagining it anymore.

It wasn’t until later—when everyone was a little too full and a little too tipsy and began playing loud music—that you slipped away to find some quiet. 

The bathroom was unlocked, thankfully, and you slipped in, locking the door behind you. Only to turn around and freeze.

“Oh?” you exhaled.

Jeongin stood leaning against the counter, arms crossed, he was startled to see you too.

You nodded, suddenly too aware of the small space, the way the air felt heavier between you two. You both stood there in silence, not quite looking at each other. You should leave, your mind said. Step out, apologise, pretend this didn’t feel like something.

But for some reason… you stayed.

His gaze flicked to you, then away. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just… needed a break from all the noise,” you said softly. “Didn’t think I’d find you here too.”

He gave a half-smile. “Yeah, well. Guess we’re still in sync.” Then he shifted. “I didn’t think you’d actually come tonight.”

You shrugged, trying to ignore the way your hands felt clammy. “Yeah, well. My brother can be pretty persuasive.”

Jeongin smiled, then glanced down, almost bashful. For a second, he looked like the boy you remembered—the one who got flustered when you caught him singing in your garage.

You stepped back, “I’ll find somewhere else—”

You were about to step toward the door when he suddenly reached out and caught your wrist.

“Wait.”

You turned, startled by the contact. His hand was warm around your wrist, gentle but firm enough to make you pause.

His voice was quiet. Earnest. “How long are we gonna pretend we’re not dying to be with each other?”

Your stomach flipped.

You looked away, jaw tight. “My brother would never agree.”

He chuckled—soft, humorless. “Your brother doesn’t get to decide who I want.”

“Innie,” you warned.

He locked the door behind him.

“Innie?” he echoed, teasing. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”

You froze. “Jeongin—”

“I know. Your brother would kill me.” His voice was lower now, almost a whisper. “But it’s driving me insane, pretending I don’t feel something every time you walk into a room.”

He stepped in. Close. Too close.

“I thought I was imagining it,” he said, finally looking at you. “But the way you look at me sometimes... it doesn’t feel one-sided.”

“It’s not,” you whispered.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said, voice rough.

He pinned you to the counter so easily you couldn’t think straight.

He stepped even more closer before saying quietly. “If I kissed you right now, would you push me away?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you closed the space between you, barely a breath apart. And whispered, “I should.”

“But you won’t,” he said, voice hoarse.

“No,” you breathed, “I won’t.”

And then he kissed you—soft, hesitant at first, like he knew the line he was crossing. But when your fingers curled into his hoodie and he pulled you closer, you both forgot everything but the feeling of finally, finally not pretending.

----------------

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@4ng3l-ch1ld @dolphin-scream-s

[colossrat]

JL asks Marvel to show them his cool magic cave where he lives, and he thinks, "I can't take them to the rock of eternity… well, I can take them to a random cave that has never been explored" :D

And he kind of decorates a cave he finds around the world, but when he goes to open the portal, he gives them a bunch of masks.

Marvel: Oh, yeah, so the air there is super poorly ventilated, there are also toxic gases and there are a lot of pores and dirt flying around…

And he also feels the need to add: Oh, and if you want to drink something, drink it now. Down there there is only stagnant, still water and I'm pretty sure that, in addition to the 10 types of parasites and diseases already found by man, there are also about 30 that were born there and, fortunately, still have no way out… Don't. Touch. The. Water.

And he looked intensely at Aquaman.

Marvel: Actually, in general, don't touch anything. After this visit, I'll use a magic spell to disinfect all of you and your clothes to make sure whatever stuck to your skin dies and doesn't spread to the world, but you know, let's still be safe :D

Flash, who was super excited to visit Marvel's super magical and cool cave 5 minutes ago: Guys… I just remembered I have to take care of the kids today… bye.

In the end, Batman is the only one who goes, and he wears a full custom suit for this kind of situation. He doesn't pick any samples because, yeah, it's better if all that stuff stays there… Forever…

Oh, and he also offers to rent a place to Marvel and almost begs him to never step foot in that cave again, and talks about how it's super dangerous because it could release those undiscovered diseases and parasites to humans and Marvel kind of thinks "yeah… oki doki, I'm not coming here anymore! I promise. Anyway, I have other caves to put my stuff in" and that's how Batman MAKES Marvel show him other unexplored caves like this and it just gets worse and worse.

At some point Alfred asks him to stop because Batman has been without sleep for almost a whole week, making containment plans in case this stuff gets leaked to humanity or if Marvel turns evil or maybe if someone else finds it or or or, you know, if they could use it as a weapon or a cure for it. kind of thing. hes going crazy, WHERE DOES MARVEL FIND SO MANY UNEXPLORED CAVES FULL OF BIOLOGICAL DANGERS?!

[v88sy]

“...but I don't know if it's the best idea for me right now, given where I'm at. I'm not sure I'd be able to do it justice.”

Tommy had only caught the tail end of what Evan had been saying. They had been curled up in bed, buried under the soft comforter as they discussed Evan’s feelings on the possibility of trying for the position of Captain, and whether he thought it would be the right fit or if it was even the right time, given everything he-they-had been through the past few weeks.

There'd been talk over whether Hen would be interested in filling Bobby's shoes, and while she seemed like the natural choice, it was a decision she was still mulling over for herself, last Tommy heard.

In the meantime, the whole thing had Evan considering his own future and what he might want if Hen were to turn down the Captaincy.

Tommy would've been a liar if he said he hadn't been fighting to stay awake and follow the threads of their conversation, but with Evan pressed warm against his side, it was just so hard to be anything other than sated and content. His eyes may have drifted shut a handful of times, but he managed to catch what was important.

“I think you'd make a great Captain."

“You do?”

He answered with a low hum. “You're incredibly smart, you know how to stay calm in a crisis and think on the fly. You never give up, and you never put yourself first. Your loyalty to your team has no limits, and neither does your drive to make sure everyone-”

“I love you.”

Tommy's eyes grew wide and there was a brief pause before a smirk crept to his lips. “You know I would've said all that stuff regardless, right?”

Evan huffed a small laugh. “I do know that, yes. Because you mean it.”

“Of course I mean it. Those are just some of the reasons I fell in love with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And I might even have a few more.”

[lotus--pond]

I know Connor made a funny post about it a while back but I do genuinely think that the biggest disconnect between Fable and Skybound in a hypothetical crossover situation wouldn't be species stuff or gods or magic or anything like that, it would be the void

because in Fable the void isn't viewed like something that's out to get you. They are kind, but powerful. Something beyond comprehension but not in a menacing way. It is dangerous, but its more respected than it is feared. It is the source of all life and the end of all things. It isn't a malevolent entity that seeks to consume, but it is a force of nature, and nature is neither good nor evil.

But in Skybound the void is something not just to be cautious of, but to live in fear of. for many years it was, like fable, a force of nature to the average avian. They didn't know it was hungry, that it sought to consume and destroy and decay, only being held back by constant cruelty and sacrifice. It sent up creatures to expedite its work, it was a complete lack of magic and a constant vacuum. There was no kindness. There was no nurturing embrace. Only a lack of everything.

I feel like most of the Skybound characters hear Rae get called "Void Prince/King" once and are immediately on guard. Because in their view, it would be like he commanded it. Like he was somehow its guardian or ruler. That he was the source off all that emptiness and hurt. When in reality, it is more of a claim to his heritage. It is an homage to his birthright as Epros's grandson and Enderian's son. it is not something he commands, but more of where he comes from (not saying that knowing this wouldn't also freak out the avians but)

Epros's very existence would baffle them, terrify most. a personification of all that sought to destroy them. The source of so much pain and heartache. and being in Brightstep would more confuse most fable characters. Because they're careful flying across the void like most people are careful swimming in the Ocean, but the avians have to be even more careful because falling into the void isn't just death, its a sickness that tears apart your very being. That kills you slowly and painfully and infects everything you are.

I just think its so different for all of them and it would be probably one of the hardest hurdles to get past should they be in each others worlds. (I mean Skybound characters would only interact with the void if they went to the end and travel between the four dimensions alone would probably be such a complex issue but thats a whole nother conversation)

[danieyells]

Lmaoooo it's so hard not to be impatient when they're revealing everything so slowly!! I will fly to their Seattle office if it means they'll tell me what I wanna know!!! lmao

Taiga wouldn't necessarily know that it could or couldn't be destroyed because, like Hyde said, warding cards being destroyable by anomalies is something that happens on a case by case basis! ('case by case" was the wording in japanese anyway i can't remember what he said in English off the top of my head haha) The general knowledge is 'warding cards can't be destroyed so they're safe to take on missions' and Taiga would probably not have much use for them himself with how skilled(and reckless) he is--so it's entirely possible that he just didn't know or his only experiences were with the ones that wouldn't be destroyed by anomalies. His ability to know things he shouldn't isn't necessarily infallible so it's fair that he'd run into gaps in awareness--or that he would just be wrong. And Romeo probably wouldn't know either--and if they're not taught that anomalies can sometimes destroy warding cards then there's no way for Ritsu to have known either. Of course it could have also slipped everyone's minds. . .I mean the pc didn't say anything so. Probably an easy detail to forget when you have to learn so much other stuff about anomalies haha. . . .

We know it brings back anomalous items because Romeo's gun exploded and then went back to normal when they left. And suggesting that the warding card can't go back to normal after it's used just reenforces that it was real, which is exactly what I was saying lol

I wonder if the pc's warding card went back to normal? Then again I think Ritsu said that some can only be used once while others need recharging--so if hers needed recharging rather than being one-use it wouldn't really tell us anything either lol. . . .

ALSO

ALSO

A THOUGHT

THE CARD'S PREVIOUS STATE WAS NOT DAMAGED. THE CARD DID NOT GO BACK TO NORMAL.

BECAUSE IT HAD ALREADY BEEN USED TO PROTECT ROMEO FROM TAIGA'S BULLET.

HYDE SAID THAT WARDING CARDS MAY BE ABLE TO BE DESTROYED BY ANOMALOUS MEANS AND TAIGA'S GUN IS ANOMALOUS.

THE CARD IS REAL.

[n0rmal-cat]

Normal, normal, it's me, ✨

I'm here to submit a request bc it's been eating at me, and I know you'll do it justice.

You know VNs (visual novels), right? The basis being, multiple people get their own little versions to play with the same character(s), choosing different choices that line up with them irl, an immersive experience for different people, stay with me, ik I sound crazy,

Okay so imagine this, a VN MC keeps going through the story and understands his life is looping, he also understands that, like, the player character keeps picking different options every so often and he'll make comments on that. Like if the player picks different sweets as like their favorite treat, he'll make little comments on that like "oh this time it strawberry" or "you know last time it was..." "will it be something else time" stuff like that. So he basically sees the player as either someone with amnesia or like a system/DID

Anyways, the true idea is, a player starting up the game for like a 3rd time and getting all confused about how the MC is reacting to them, maybe he goes off course,

Yandere visual novel protagonist x reader

[WHY WOULD YOU INTRUST ME WITH THIS GOOD IDEA IDK WHAT IM DOING HALF THE TIME, SO SORRY ✨ I DONT KNOW IF THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED, BECAUSE I GOT A LITTLE CONFUSED, IF NOT ILL WRITE ANOTHER ONE😭💀]

[also yes his name is #### because most protagonists don’t get names]

It wasn’t like everyday was the same, no god had given him the luxury of letting him live a full life only to restart them over…and over…and over.

“So #### what will it be, you can either study with me or sneak out so you can go to the party or it’s the drop out”

He didn’t know how many times he had been asked that stupid question. If he study with his ‘best friend’ he gains enough knowledge to pass the next test with flying colours and impress them.

But if he went to the party they would gain a reputation with the ‘bad boy’ and impress them instead.

He didn’t want to do either, they honestly just wanted to stay in his dorm and sleep for the night.

“I don’t think-I’m sorry I think I’m going to go out tonight” what was that, that was his voice wasn’t it but he didn’t say that.

“Alright I see how it is, you go have fun”

“Wait hold on i didn’t say that!-“ before he could finish his sentence he were already in a different scene.

“No I didn’t want this!”

“#### I’m so glad you came. I promise this won’t be a waste of time” they swooped their hair.

“God you again?” For the past three times he had been hanging out and living their life with this guy.

“Sorry man I think I’m just going to go home” he didn’t like this guy and never had, but the universe just loved to put them together he guessed.

“Did I choose the wrong option? I don’t remember this dialogue?” They snapped their head to the sky. What was that, ‘who’ was that.

You, they saw you. His chest twisted, his stomach felt like it was clasping on itself. Who were you? And what were you?

God? Was that what you were, were you the one setting him on loop over and over again, but why?

“Maybe I should look up the guide again?…did the game freeze? No no no! My progress!”

Game? That’s what this was wasn’t it you weren’t god and they weren’t a person were they. They felt their world go dark, literally in fact as they stared into the empty void.

They clenched and unclenched their hand a couple of times “haha….hahahAHAHAHA” how could they have been so stupid. Of course it was a game but then if they weren’t alive what were they? And if they felt alive could they die?

The world booted itself up again to the ‘first day’. “Damn we’re gonna have to start over again I guess, fifteen endings to go”

Only fifteen? And then what you’ll just leave them, their world never to be opened again left and forgotten. They couldn’t have that not when your were the only real person they had ever met, they didn’t want to constantly fall in love with the same cardboard cutout anymore.

A prompt pop up, “oh no I wake up late, and for my first day at college to, should I have breakfast and risk being late to class or skip breakfast and risk being hungry the rest of the day”

“I guess we’ll skip breakfast, I want to get Raphael out of the anyway”

Is this what it felt like to be controlled by you, was everything he did up to you? Oh god they were having a crisis.

“I actually would like breakfast, kinda want to think about my life right now I also wouldn’t like to start collage for the third time today”

There was an unsettling silence “huh..”

“Can we talk about my life over breakfast actually” they poured themselves a bowl of cereal.

Their world turned black again but when it came back on they were in the same spot. “Stop I literally just want to talk”

“Oh my god this is not happening to me, I’m in a creepypasta aren’t I?”

“What’s a creepypasta?

They got no response back, “so why do you want to get endings of my life, and also why are all the endings to my life me getting with different people, is there a bad ending can I die, have I died and I just don’t remember?” They ate their cereal.

“I’m just gonna” they shut the game off it seemed, #### turned it back on themselves.

“That’s very rude you know”

“How did you do that?!”

“Don’t really know, I’d like to know a lot of things actually, and it would be a help if you answered them”

“Are you gonna haunt me?”

They look up at the sky looking at the face looking back at them in fear.

“Yea…if you don’t play my game every day and talk to me I will haunt you” that will definitely work.

“You sound unsure?”

“And…?”

Reader eventually caves in continues to play, it’s actually pretty fun he gives them tips on how to answer certain questions so they don’t even have to look up a guide anymore.

He also stopped complaining when they turn off his game console now, oh but don’t worry that’s just because he’s infected your phone with his code your stuck with him forever <3

He just wants to talk please, please talk to him.

[pixel art because he’s a game…it just fits]

[becausegraf]

Stolas is not Blitz's first rodeo - the case for Blitz' potential history as a de facto sex worker

(Okay, whoop de doo, here we go, if I sit on this essay any longer I won't get around to having dinner.)

Imagine someone you're into knows you've been struggling to make ends meet, and they approach you with this:

"Hey there, I've been thinking, how about we meet once a week to get giggity and have a good time, and in exchange I'll pay your rent, no strings attached."

Since 'this is hell' and not real life, also try to imagine what for example Moxxie or Millie's reaction might be to something like this. How would you envision this might go?

'What the FUCK' would be a completely sensible response. Even if someone agreed to this, you'd expect some reluctance, unease, nervousness, internal conflict... from most people.

And yet, this is basically what Stolas offered Blitz, and even in a hurry, his reaction wasn't at all shocked or confused. We see no hint of awkwardness in his behaviour around or during his monthly visits, not a lick of it.

There's a simple explanation for this: Blitz has done this before plenty of times.

He's quite literally 'used to it' and accepts this as a fairly routine type of agreement, without even questioning the concept of 'that horny head-in-the-clouds dork of a prince had a good time with me, and wants me to keep servicing him enough to offer me precisely what I want'. Stolas is far from unattractive to him, sure, 'why the fuck not'. Of all the ways this situation could have played out, this is one of the less difficult ones to deal with - satisfying people using his body is pretty much a 'shrug' to him, as opposed to having to come up with some kind of manipulation, or negotiating a different agreement, or keeping the grimoire against Stolas' will and earning himself the wrath of a Goetia.

The premise:

There is a long, long list of clues, many of them hiding in plain sight as 'haha crude jokes oh Blitz u so silly' moments, that Blitz has a history of providing sex as a service.

I also believe this is something most of the fandom already implicitly expects or wouldn't be surprised at all if it were confirmed in the show, but a lot of the implications are entirely invisible, and the effects on Blitz' behaviour are VERY easy to read as 'it's a comedy show, they write him this way because it's supposed to be crude and funny'.

Parts:

1) A hoard of hints

2) How this contributes to the massive disconnect between Blitz and Stolas' understanding of their arrangement

3) Some notes regarding the 'stage persona' of a performer, and recognition of achievements - a connection to his VA and co-writer

1) So, let's look at some contextual evidence first. This list is mostly constrained by my limited capacity to rattle off more examples on the fly, I'm sure you can easily find more of these everywhere you look.

- 'It's your night', and other such flat dismissals

This can be read as him just being cold and apathetic towards Stolas, as obviously 'Blitz is an unempathetic jerk-ass boyfriend'. However, if you read this through the lens of Blitz truly handling this arrangement pretty much like a professional, it makes perfect sense.

'We can do what you want, you're the client here buddy. This isn't about my preferences or wants, my job is to please you and not the other way around.'

- 'You know, I'm not really fussed when stuff like this happens' about Stolas rescheduling

Kind of a funky thing to say about your lover asking you if you have time to meet a bit earlier than originally planned, isn't it? Again, this makes sense if you read this arrangement as Stolas being like a client with a monthly appointment, and Blitz as the accommodating professional. The customer is king, if Stolas wants to move their appointment date (for something Blitz can do during his off-hours that aren't likely to conflict with other plans) then sure, it's not like he's going to charge a damn cancellation fee.

- 'But I thought you like it when I talk all dirty and fucky and shit'

The start of Apology Tour is a rough one, but it reveals a lot about the hidden reasons behind Blitz behaving the way he does with Stolas, and why we shouldn't take everything at face-value.

During their encounters, Blitz is in work-mode: h's very deliberate about how he comports himself and how to play to Stolas' tastes, for as far as he thinks he understands them. Stolas responded well to the aggressive stuff upon their first meeting as adults, and from Stolas' POV he had no real reason to clock that as *not actually really what Blitz' own personal preferred style is*. For as far as the owl knows, Blitz truly is unforcedly, naturally just 'like that' - scathing, dominant, rogueish, confident, bold and brash and adventurous in bed.

I think it's likely that Blitz probably *isn't*, maybe partially but not entirely, but trial and error quickly showed him Stolas is into that so... sure, he can accommodate. Whatever the fancy man wants of him, he can stay 'in-character' in that kind of exaggerated role pretty effortlessly.

Blitz glomming to MnM is a pretty big tip-off that he does have a sense of what true close intimacy is like and he absolutely does have a yearning for that. His 'I'm just here for the sex' bad boy attitude does not truly convey who he is as a person in his entirety.

The rowdy sexy assassin-cowboy-imp is the role he plays for Stolas, under the assumption that that is what he's into, and as a way to shield off his own much more vulnerable and conflicted real feelings. When it seems as if Stolas is no longer satisfied, he tries to 'get his shit together' and dial up the intensity, taking the whole sexually aggressive act to a level where it majorly crosses Stolas' boundaries.

Blitz at that point is just SO confused, so in turmoil with himself, and so terrified of losing the one point of connection he has to Stolas (which at that point really is pretty much their sexual compatibility plus a dollop of mutual je-ne-sais-quoi) he gets frustrated and just slips into a blind defensive rage.

(...yeah, that sure went over well, didn't it. 'God damnit Blitz', thus spoke the entire fandom.)

- Blitz' encounter with Chaz

This is a very interesting one to me. This set of scenes shifts very rapidly from one impression of Blitz to another, a triple pile-up of 'lol gotcha'.

'Oh ok , Blitz gets that it's kinda iffy to bang your friends' shitty ex' immediately gets subverted to

'...welp I guess his weird fixation is enough to disregard that entirely', and shortly after to yet another twist:

'-aaaaand welp, he took advantage of the situation without even blinking, because his instinct made him catch a whiff of something, and he took the first opportunity to poke into it a bit more even if said opportunity is banging the airhead randy shark'.

Blitz 100% uses his body like a tool. Any personal pleasure or bonuses that suit his whims he gets out of it is only part of his motivation. His played-for-laughs fling with Chaz is really much more functionally motivated: diving into bed with someone is just one of the several items on his list of things you can do to slip past someone's guard, shmooze them up, get up-close and even have them dead-asleep to create the perfect moment.

Watching this unfold, I personally very much did have that moment of 'oh dear that's a little concerning', that he made it look like he's 'just kind of a morally questionable ass', so casually making it seem like he was having some fun for his own sake when he was clearly going into this with the plan to slink out as soon as he had the shark where he wanted him.

This example also shows that Blitz clearly understands that sex and intimacy and trust are connected, but for him personally, that's pretty much optional (or even explicitly to be avoided).

- 'I've spent too much of my time, energy and holes on getting us set up', (so maybe don't get lame about this Mills)

File under 'haha Blitz so crude' and the easy interpretation of this as referring ONLY to Stolas. This likely concerns all the work he's done over the many years, starting long before the short time he's had the grimoire at his disposal at the time he says this.

He also does note himself as a) business savvy and b) sexy as fuck as the two major assets he has that he thinks of first in this scene. Blitz knows he's capable of capturing 'that kind' of attention, and he's clearly willing to make use of that.

- Finding out later in the series that he has a whole slew of exes that are still upset with him

This 'reveal' aligns with the general impressions we have of Blitz by that point pretty well. I wasn't surprised at all about that one - 'Oh, of course he does'.

Blitz dodges truly close personal intimacy, but he hardly avoids getting into situations that most people would experience as explicitly intimate, vulnerable and personal. His idea of 'boundaries' are very different from those of most people he deals with, and it's truly no wonder he ended up attracting quite a number of people to him only to ditch out once it became clear they were expecting some kind of romantic commitment.

With his natural charisma and easy charm and his *actual* innate kindness, combined with his well-practiced capacity to flirt and fluster and flatter, people that get to know him may very well be tempted rather quickly. They then easily misread his intentions when he's not one to say no if they make a pass and he's passingly interested. Of course, as soon as they let it show they're falling for him in earnest, *WHAM* goes the door, with no warning and often a sound 'fuck you' to seal the deal and ensure they don't come back.

'Why would he go and get intimate with me, if he didn't want to be with me?!'

The sheer confusion only adds to the offense at that point, and it's that lack of a sensible explanation that contributes to the pattern of people struggling to 'get over it'. We want to know 'why', we need the story to make sense, but Blitz does not give people that closure easily.

'Sorry I have a warped relationship with sex and it doesn't mean to me what it means to you as a baseline, AND I have massive hangups about people getting the feefees for me because everyone who does gets torn to shreds, so if we get giggity that's all you're gonna get from me' isn't really the kind of thing Blitz tells people ahead of time or after the fact.

- I may add more later or in a reblog, I could go on for hours honestly...

2) All this is far, far removed from Stolas' entire world

We all understand pretty well that our beloved well-intentioned dork of an owl has had a pretty sheltered existence (albeit frought with its own problems), and has *very* little experience in the realm of actual sexual activities.

If someone more worldly were to encounter Blitz and regularly interact with him in the way Stolas does, I think it would very quickly begin to raise questions.

You know, if someone so consistently treated your 'sexy date nights' the way Blitz does, I think quite a few of us would start to catch on that maybe he's got some, eh, 'circumstances' that inform his behaviour. Stolas however has nothing to go off off - Blitz is the experienced one, and he certainly acts like everything they do is pretty par for the course. Blitz is the role model, the example Stolas learns from about 'how things work' and what the rules are.

The issue is that Stolas is trying to learn how to have a fulfilling intimate relationship with someone, while Blitz is, in some fashion, actually trying (rather frustratedly at times) to teach him the code of conduct around just-business sex work. Over and over and over we see Blitz try to remind him of these rules, and from our POV, this comes across as Blitz being kind of cruel and mean because he's bluntly brushing off every earnest attempt Stolas makes to forge a connection.

Stolas doesn't understand what's going on under the surface, and for the most part, *neither do we as the audience*. We're here for the fluffy love story, and the hilarious impish shenanigans of our kind-of-a-dick of a protagonist. *Neither we as the audience nor Stolas take Blitz' behaviour and push-back seriously* as we don't get to explicitly view things through his eyes with the full understanding of what the world works like for him. He's either acting like a douche, or being erratic and hilarious, all just meaningless funny bullshit - right up until the moment where he snaps and suddenly it's no longer charming.

Stolas hapless persistence with trying to move past these 'walls', as he truly does desire something very different, eventually leads to Blitz giving up on getting him to cut it out, and it really seems as if he desperately tries to interpret he situation as an unruly spoiled but harmless client getting way too into the 'playing boyfriends' roleplay.

After all, what else could it *possibly* be? Love? Ha ha ha fuck you, of course not. What kind of asshole would even suggest that, that's just hurtful, inconsiderate and stupid - don't play with his feelings like that, it's JUST BUSINESS and Blitz needs to keep his head on straight. He's got a job to do and if he fucks this up and lets himself get attached and it all gets too real holy fucking sh- just drop the sky on him while you're at it, why don't you.

NO.

3) There are some themes here, as per the person who plays a big role in shaping Blitz' character

As 'the sassy crass youtube dude' in reputation I wouldn't be surprised if Brandon Rogers himself might be kinda familiar with the effect of people mistaking your 'on stage persona' for who you really are. People at times approach performers like him under the assumption they're always 'like that', and they tailor their behaviour according to that, too, instead of taking a step back and treating them like a regular person with regular boundaries.

At some point Brandon also said one of the things he relates to the most with Blitz is how much it irks him when people low key look down on what he's achieved.

'Nobody just handed him stuff, he and the team put in a fuckton of hard work into getting to where they are now'

This echoes Blitz' derision towards Fizz as someone who seems as if he's being given privileges, resources and support on a silver platter, just for existing as the person Asmodeus has a special interest in.

I will let that lead into my concluding comment:

I'm pretty damn sure we don't officially know the first damn thing yet about everything Blitz has put himself through to make it out of his twenties alive, just for starters, and to then become successful and reliable enough to provide a stable home for Loona and get his business off the ground.

[ghostly-bat]

hi that rambling anon who was chatting about Clark/Kent family & Damian dynamic and just read ur response hehe. So glad we're on the same wavelength 😭🥹 im so picky about my DC ships, but jondami has my heart for so long vs not able to stand other two lol

Following the vein of "eventual civilian Damian route", I love idea of damian still does occasionally help certain people but especially Jon and becomes his guy in the chair on occasion. Not in the Babs Gordon way but in the "im a highly educated former bat member in your ear" and while i do think Jon is incredibly smart too, this is damian enrichment corner when medicine isnt challenging enough and he wants to crack a case that has to deal with the universe baby!

or a side adventure where damian becomes a practitioner of magic bc being friends / partners / in love with a super... this is a pesky weakness that Damian wants to be personally prepared for. 🤸‍♂️ damian starts sewing little protection charms for jon as a hobby, incorporating into his suits-- stuff to help deflect magic cast at jon and at first jon was skeptical bc what if his natural vulnerability has a weird reaction. damian is just >:/ trial and error, fly boy (but this is something he's anxious about). Counterspells work. Damian is smug for weeks while now offering to provide for the other supers 🥹✨️

Also my favorite idea is damian learning and excelling at learning Kryptonian (so sleepy probably spelt this wrong), which Jon knows but still surprised. Jon in retaliation does research on league dialect (bc in my mind, it would be a version of arabic or Semitic language that long out of use) and the two have polygot bickering that morphs into gossiping because lmao these little freaks have talent in learning languages and they use it as a threat. Calling each other donkey heads in different languages, this is why they can't be on Big Teams 😭 their co dependency kicks in and they are in their own galaxy, knowing each others moves seamlessly and can even communicate without words. Why is damian scoffing at a head tilt? Why is Jon giggling at an eyebrow raise? Dick why did you team us up with this couple 🧍‍♀️theyre arguing in some eastern European language that I never heard of help

:O all of this is so cute you have no idea!!

Jon going to Damian with a case cus he knows exactly who would have almost all the answers. He's doing the research and Jon executing what Damian told him to do.

Damian selling protection charms for Jon and yes they work but Jon also love them cus they simply just remind him of Damian and even if Damian isn't necessarily fighting next to him it still feels like it still feels like he's right next to Jon in battle.

They'd have their own language and ways of communicating, oh absolutely you are so right! They'd look at each other from across the room and know exactly what the other is thinking. Other heroes find them kind of insufferable cus they're over here in a corner talking in different languages and everyone else is like "God I hope they're not talking about me..." they are, they are definitely talking about you lol.

[ballsandbabes]

Athletic Lessions Pt 1: Nagi Seishiro x reader

Read PART II // PART III Genre: Slow-burn, Wholesome, Mutual Growth, Subtle Romance Setting: Blue Lock Training Grounds

Summary: What happens when ambition meets laziness and tension begins to rise. Find hatred and dislike in a connection and trainer and Prodegy have to find out how they can achieve their goals together?

Authors Note: y/n = your name and L/n= last name // GIF not mine //h/c = hair color // nor proof read, sorry ^^

When you received the call from Ego himself about a month ago, you thought it was a joke. You had been helping your father in his training facility for about a year. Richard, your father, was very respected in the sports world. He looked after all the top athletes like Leon Messy, Kyle Bappe and Christian Roland. Monitoring physical performance, supervising physical training and evaluating data. You and your best friend Ami were planning to fly to Sweden at the end of the year, so you started working while attending college to finance the trip.

When you heard that you would actually be working the same way as you already did with your dad and that the paycheck would easily finance the entire trip, so you agreed. That's how you ended up in the leather seat of a private jet, together with other boys and flew to Japan. You had a brief and concise explanation of what was coming next, when the boy next to you suddenly leaned in towards you.

"You know, they chose young adults as trainers to make the training easier and more relaxed. I think Ego believes, these are optimal training conditions," he said in an omniscient tone of voice. You looked at him confused. Also a bit annoyed, he had just violated your personal space like it was nothing....you didn't know each other, not even his name.

He saw the emotions and questions running across your face and seemed to realize where his mistake was when he said, "Oh sorry, I'm Maximilian, feel free to call me Max."

“Hi Max,” you say friendly. "How come, you know all this stuff about the Blue Lock program? I thought its very much a secret..."

"Ah, you know, my mother used to work for a sports team at the beginning of her career… she supervised Egos team in media stuff, back when he was still playing, you know. So basically I have all the good insider information," he smiled with a sparkle in his eyes.

You made friends with Max for the rest of the flight, you had more than enough time after all. Philippe, the boy in the seat to the left of you, had joined the conversation at some point. With the two of you at your side, your nervousness disappeared more and more. Only to rise again into the immeasurable, after landing… Now, this crazy adventure of yours would start.

A black, sleek traveling bus took you to the Bluelock facility. Its buildings towering tall over all of you.

--------------- 2 hours later ----------------------------

The ceremony was stiff, formal, and—ironically for a program like Blue Lock—military toned. Rows of Blue Lock players stood on one side of the gym, while the athletic trainers faced them across the polished floor. Ego had just explained, over the giant screen, that you and the others were brought into BlueLock to maximize and perfect the physical abilities of the young players.

You stood near the center, clipboard in hand, trying to look composed in your athletic uniform. Blue, just like the players' "uniforms". Your top had hexagon patterns in a light blue on the sides, which was repeated in your shorts. It suited you very well. Despite your professionalism, you could feel the stares. You became even more nervous.

You were the only female trainer. And the Blue Lock boys, despite their killer instincts and inflated egos, were still teenage athletes with eyes. Not to mention the fact that the boys had been here for weeks and had little contact with the outside world because of the strict training schedules and rules.

"Who's that? She's kinda cute.", Tabito whispered, stealing a glance at you. "Think I can ask for a switch?", Kenyu aksed more to himself. "Tch. She's probably not impressed by weaklings like you.", Rin said unfazed.

You heard the whispers but didn’t acknowledge them. Instead, you stood tall as Ego Jinpachi walked between the two lines like a general, tablet in hand, expression as unreadable as ever. It was rare for Ego himself to set a foot on the field.

“This is not a popularity contest,” he began, voice cold and sharp. “Each player has been matched to a trainer based on compatibility, athletic needs, and psychological contrast. You won’t like each other, you don’t have to, thats not what we are here for. You will grow.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Seems to be a classic Ego.

He began calling out names. One by one, players were matched with trainers. Some high-fived, others looked confused or nervous. Then:

“Nagi Seishiro. Assigned to (L/N) (Y/N).”

Your head snapped up. Across the way, a tall, sleepy-eyed white-haired boy raised a brow. He blinked slowly at you like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to react—or if he even wanted to. Shit, you got the indisciplined and lazy player. How are you supposed to uphold your father's good reputation when the player you were supposed to coach looked like he skipped every practice session?

You stepped forward, clipboard still tucked under your arm, slightly in a bad mood. “Guess I’m stuck with you.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Man… I was hoping I’d get someone easy.” Someone simple? What did he mean by that? Probably someone who didn't care whether he skipped the training sessions. Lost in thought, you looked at the mirrored wall of the room… your look was scary and serious. Maybe that's why he said it.

You gave him a flat look. “And I was hoping I’d get someone who can hold a plank for more than 10 seconds.”, was your clearly cold and annoyed answer.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Guess we’re both outta luck then.”

The first few weeks were a nightmare. Nagi treated working out like it was a punishment invented to make his life harder. He slumped through stretches, whined about burpees, and once tried to trade his leg day with Reo like it was some playground lunch deal. Or he didn't show up for training at all.

By now it was common practice for you to wait outside his room in the morning just to personally drag him to training. He hated it. Every morning his roommates were happy to see you, which resulted in a jam at the door. Once, he took advantage of this chaos to sneak up on you for breakfast, without being noticed. But that only meant 20 more push-ups.

In his eyes you were merciless, cruel and far too ambitious. After all, he would be standing on the field playing soccer and not you. What did you get out of torturing him like that??

----------- Same day: trainers lunch -------------

“Ugh, he’s a total disaster,” you complained to Max and Philippe. "Why is that? He actually looks quite athletic," asked Max, astonished.

"He skips training sessions and when he shows up, he always only gives 50%…how am I supposed to get this idiot fit for the U20, if he just refuses??" you said with an ever-increasing anger.

Philippe just laughed, amused by your reaction. "You know, I have to train this guy named Kenyu, he's supposed to be a model. He's really a handful too"

“At least he’s coming to training,” you said as you looked lost into your spaghetti. How are you supposed to get him fit?

----------- Same day: players lunch -------------

"Dude, training today was awesome. I notice how strong I've become," said Tabito, visibly proud of his progress. Reo chimed in, "Yeah, right? My trainer, this Max really knows what hes doing."

"What about you Rin, what's training like for you?" Kunigami asked between bites of his steak.

"Ugh, this guy is supposed to make me stronger…not waste my time" Classic Rin, all he could think about was soccer. Judging by the way Isagi looked, he seemed to share the same opinion as Rin.

Plop! A tray crashed onto the boys' table. Nagi had just sat down, his gaze firmly fixed on his console. "Hey Nagi, we're talking about strength training. How's yours?" Reo asked while he was getting ready for his pudding.

"Yes, tell me how's it going," Kenyu asked with interest, "At least you got the only female and very attractive trainer."

"She's annoying," Nagi said curtly, bored by the question.

This statement visibly surprised the boys. "Why is that?" Isagi asked. "I wish I had her…her training program looks so good."

"It's such a hassle. She's always complaining…it annoys me and is stressful," he said as he got up to take the tray away. The boys looked at him in bewilderment.

------ Time Skip ----------

Weeks had passed and you and Nagi hadn't really made any progress. The only notable success was, that he now came to training voluntarily and did so comparatively often.

But that afternoon everything was about to change. He entered training field number 3 and wondered, why you guys were suddenly training on the soccer field. He saw you sitting on the grass and was confused. "Sit down," she said in a commanding but friendly voice. And that's what he did.

"You're going to sit here for a whole hour," she said, not lifting her eyes from the clipboard in her arm. "Sit? Just sit," Nagi asked confused. "Yes," she said as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

He shrugged his shoulders…this seemed to be a relaxed training session. He was about to get up and go to his training bag when y/n picked it up and walked to the door. You saw his questioning look and said, "Just sit, you shouldn't do anything else, just that. Can you manage that?" Your voice sounded a little more condescending than you intended. You closed the door, but unknowingly left a little parting.

Minutes passed by. What's the point of that? Nagi asked himself. That was a complete waste of time. How was he supposed to be the best striker ever, if he just sat here. Sure, the training and games with Ego were annoying and he would love to go back to his console…but a leat he would get something out of it. This sittitng thing of yours....it was beyond his laziness.

He was pulled out of a thought when voices appeared in the hallway…one of them was…yours??

"Y/n, what are you doing here alone? Aren't you supposed to be training with Nagi?" asked the unknown voice. “I do, I just adapted to his level and willingness to perform,” you said in a sharp voice that carried a tiny bit of another feeling. Could it be disappointment?

So that's how you saw him? As a lazy, undisciplined person, whos not worth training? He was used to people reacting strangely to his way, but this reaction and the realization, of what it meat, hurt him somehow.

An hour had passed when the door was pushed open with a flourish. There you stood, the light from the hallway made you look like a divine figure. “Get up, practice is over,” you said as you placed his bag in front of him. "What's that about?" he asked with a mixture of curiosity, hurt and anger.

“How did you feel during this hour,” you ask him with interest. "Like you're wasting my time," he said angrily.

“Good,” was all you said. "Now you know how I feel whenever you decide there are more important things than coming to our training!" Realizing what you just said, he looked down. You were right. Being the egoist that he was, he had never thought about it.

Despite how much he resisted at first, after that afternoon, you began to notice the small changes.

He stopped ghosting morning drills. He started bringing his water bottle without you nagging. Actively listened when you had something to say and asking questions every now and then. And when you once joked, “You’ll thank me when you’re scoring with those thighs, that I left you sitting on the field” he’d turned bright red and actually tried in that day’s leg press.

Little by little, he started to grow. And little by little something started to grow between you. Not just cooperation—but quiet respect. Some sort of connection.

During your time off from training with him, he secretly watched you. on the way back from the gym. You played soccer with the other trainers. You did well. he found you to be a very varied, especially a tactical player. He now went to the weight room four times a week. Once more than you had ordered him to do. He wouldn't admit it, but he wanted to show you that he could improve. And that he was worth your time and effort.

You stopped seeing him as a lazy prodigy. You saw the subtle competitiveness in him, the hunger to be better—especially when you praised him (he loved it so much). And he started seeing you, as more than just another person telling him what to do. You pushed him, yeah—but most importantly you noticed him. Encouraged him. Believed in him.

------ One late afternoon----------

One late afternoon, after a brutal agility circuit, Nagi sat on the floor, breathing hard but not complaining for once. You tossed him a towel, and he caught it with a practiced flick of the wrist.

“You didn’t skip a single training in three weeks,” you said, surprised.

He glanced up at you through silver lashes. “Yeah. I noticed you stopped looking annoyed. Thought that was kinda nice.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “So... you’re saying my approval’s your motivation or something?”

He leaned back on his hands, smirk lazy but sharp. “You work hard. I thought maybe I should try too. Plus…” His gaze flicked up and down briefly, just enough to make you fluster. “Effort looks good on you. Figured I’d try it on myself.”

You turned your head, hiding your smile. “You’re such a problem, handful lazy-ass” You initially called him that out of frustration, but it had grown more into some sort of a teasing pet name.

“Mm.” He stood, towel draped around his neck. “But I’m your problem now.”

You shook your head, heart oddly full. And from across the field, Reo watched the exchange with wide eyes, nudging Bachira with a knowing grin.

“Y’know,” Reo muttered, “he’s never trained this hard for anyone. Not even Ego.”

Bachira tilted his head. “Kinda strange, meh i dont care how others do...i focus on improving myself.”

Little did they know how much Nagi would focus on his improvement, because of you.

Because effort looked good on Nagi Seishiro. But the way he looked at you, like you were the goal he didn’t realize he needed to score— That looked even better.

PART II will be coming soon. Stay tuned! <3

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Stranded

Author's note: I'm going to be trying to do Mermay 2025.

Summary: Doronius

Warnings: Someone is stranded. Someone is rescued. Mentions of canabalism. Swearing. Mentions of bullying and gallows humor. LMK if I need to add something

tagged: @sleepyfan-blog @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @i-am-a-dragon34 @ms--lobotomy @jaghatai-khock

tagged: @kit-williams @whorety-k @bleedingichorhearts @thevoidscreams @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis @bispecsual, @egrets-not-regrets @finchly-tintinnabulation

Doronius is flying through the air. He's been on Ancient Terra for a few months, and once he was patched up and properly healed, the Tech Marine Hydra had been extremely busy. With how few resources everyone had and specialists of all kinds being extremely limited, they were all in high demand. His ability to work with machine spirits and metals is quite the boon.

Doronius hears the singing of a strange mechanical spirit, its song sounded discordant and in pain he frowns and flies over he tilts his head and sees that there are three upset looming humans and a the pieces of a broken ship.

"I told you that you should not have joked about trying to decide who to kill and eat!" A scowling baseline human says with their hands on their hips. "Just because we have all been stuck here for a few days and things are not going well doesn't mean we should sink to turning on each other so soon."

"It was just a stupid joke- gallows humor because we are utterly fucked." Another one of the humans protested.

"Where did they go? And how? There's no way the could have swim far enough away without us knowing." Another person pointed out. "And this island isn't big enough for them to hide from of that long."

"You two should not have talked about killing and eating one of us- the supposed 'weak link' while looking at them!" The shouting human yells again.

"... still I want to know where they are... and what happened to them." One of the other to says as the shift around uneasily.

"I thought I heard them speak or something and then I heard a splash." The other human who hadn't spoken yet said as they fidgeted.

"And you are just now saying something?!" The most loud baseline human yells.

"I thought I saw a massive mutated monster..." thar human says with a flinch.

'How curious,' Doronius thinks as he tilts his head listening to the drama.

The most vocal human looks enraged as they stomp off. All three humans look more than a little dehydrated and sunburnt. He tilts his head and flies over to the sunburnt human that left the other two as he does so he hears the other two speak.

"So our first choice for sustenance is gone somehow." There was a semi joking, semi serious look on the baselines face.

"... seriously?" The other human says.

"What we gotta consider this stuff if we wanna survive. And I don't want it to be me." They said.

"I Don't wanna die or be eaten either!" They protest.

"Well. Good thing, there is a third person left then." The other person said, sounding flippant yet serious.

Doronius spots that the third person who had stomped off is actually near enough to hear the other two speak with a shocked, fearful, betrayed, and hurt expression on their face. He dips into the ocean and pops up near them. The baseline human jumps and stares at him.

"Please help me! They- the other two are planning to kill and eat me." The baseline begs with tears in their eyes.

"It seems rather unfortunate to have them do that." Doronius says as hebswims closer.

The Alpha Legion always needs more hands to help. They work quite closely with baseline humans and other species often living among them and working with or for or against or a mixture of those things.

"Come into my arms and keep your face tucked to my chest. I can move fast and you need to try and not get injured." Doronius says.

He does send a message to a couple of Chaos Hydra about the other two humans whether they are saved or become lunch for someone else isn't in his preview. With the way the human thanked him profusely as he clings to him.

[saphronethaleph]

Advanced Spyrology

“Okay, this is weird,” Spyro mumbled.

“Weird,” Trigger Happy repeated. “Yeah, that’s really helpful.”

“Hey, shut up!” Spyro replied, sticking out his tongue. “I’d say something that made more sense if I knew something that made more sense, golden-glo.”

The gremlin snorted.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t,” he replied. “But, okay. What does weird mean?”

“Weird means weird,” Spyro answered, sitting back. “Like… something happened, and now everything is wrong.”

He held up a paw. “See, I was really cool before I met you guys. That’s how come I got invited to be a Skylander.”

“Here we go again,” Trigger Happy said, sniggering. “This is just a chance for you to boast about the cool stuff you did before becoming a Skylander, right?”

Spyro shook his head. “That’s just it!”

He thumped his tail on the ground. “Because I can’t.”

Trigger Happy blinked a few times, then inspected Spyro’s head from the side.

“What are you doing?” Spyro asked.

“Trying to see if I can see light through from the other side, scalybrain,” the gremlin replied.

“Hey!” Spyro protested, bristling and flaring his wings. “Knock it off, okay!”

He shook his head. “I’m being serious. I did all kinds of cool stuff before I became a Skylander but I can’t think of what any of those things were. I was…”

Then the purple dragon coughed.

“I was going to talk to Cynder about it, okay?” he asked, looking embarrassed.

“Oooh,” Trigger Happy said, giggling. “Trying to impress a girl?”

“Hey!” Spyro protested. “I helped free her, you know! And I was trying to say how helping her out was nothing special, because I’d done all kinds of cool stuff, and I completely blanked on what.”

Now Trigger Happy was looking a bit worried.

“...none of them?” he asked. “Not at all?”

“Nope,” Spyro agreed. “I know I did cool stuff, just, not what, and I was left standing there looking like an idiot until Cynder flew off!”

He shook his head. “So, come up with an answer to that one.”

“Yeah, I’m stumped,” Trigger Happy said, immediately. “I can’t shoot the problem, I am out of ideas.”

“Yeah, I guessed,” Spyro muttered. “Okay, uh…”

He frowned, head tilting.

“The weird thing is, I think Cynder was involved?” he said.

“Sure this isn’t a daydream now?” Trigger Happy asked.

“Shut up,” Spyro grumbled.

“Well, if you do think she was involved, why not ask her about it?” the gremlin suggested.

“I thought you were out of ideas,” Spyro pointed out.

Trigger Happy shrugged.

Spyro shook his head, frowning.

“...you… what?” Cynder said.

“I can say it again, if you want,” Spyro replied. “Did I at some weird time in the past do something to help you before I was a Skylander?”

“You realize how weird a question that is, right?” Cynder countered. “You don’t have to hold over my head how you saved me, I’m grateful but it doesn’t mean-”

“I don’t mean that time!” Spyro replied, wings flaring. “I mean before then. Pay attention, eesh.”

Cynder shot a black look at him.

“What kind of thing are you thinking you would have done to help me, anyway?” she asked. “Apart from breaking me out of Malefor’s control?”

Spyro frowned.

“...uh,” he said. “Can’t think of anything, sorry.”

“Are we done?” Cynder asked.

“Wait,” Spyro said.

Cynder spread her wings to fly off.

“...hey!” Spyro protested, then frowned. “How come you never use your wind element, anyway?”

Cynder was halfway through taking off, flubbed her wingbeat, and tripped over forwards. She rolled over twice, picked herself up, and glowered for a moment as Spyro sniggered at her.

Then she shook her head, and her expression changed.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“How did I know… what?” Spyro replied.

“Wind,” Cynder answered. “I don’t have wind, Spyro. My element is Undead. But… I’ve dreamed of having wind, and I never said anything about it to anyone. Ever.”

Spyro frowned.

“...so what does that mean?” he asked. “Because my element is Magic, not… dreams, or whatever it would have to be to find that out.”

“I don’t know,” Cynder admitted. “But… all right, something weird is going on here, you’ve convinced me of that much.”

“So what now?” Spyro asked.

“Now…” Cynder replied, thinking. “I guess we try and find someone who might know about it. It’s something to do with you, and with me, maybe…”

She exhaled. “Okay… I know a few people. Maybe we can work something out.”

Weeks later, far away from the Skylands, a portal opened.

Malefor, who was still chained to a very large anchor and the ruins of the ship it had been attached to when he was pushed off the Skylands, looked up – then growled slightly as Spyro and Cynder came through the portal.

“I assume you’re here for a reason,” the dark dragon said.

“We want to find out what the heck is wrong with me!” Spyro said.

Cynder coughed.

“I have a few ideas about that,” she said. “I think everyone does.”

“That came out wrong,” Spyro muttered. “But – you know something, Malefor, so out with it! What’s going on and how come I don’t know anything about my past?”

Malefor chuckled.

“Okay, yeah, he knows,” Cynder declared. “That’s the I-know-something-you-don’t chuckle. I’d recognize it anywhere.”

Malefor shook his head, still smirking.

“And why should I tell you, exactly?” he asked.

“I can think of a few reasons!” Spyro replied. “You did some kind of spell on me, didn’t you? To make me forget my past!”

Malefor chuckled again.

“It’s not just you,” Cynder said, head cocked slightly. “It’s… everyone? No, it’s about… he changed things and he’s laughing about how much we don’t know about it.”

“Wow, you’re good at that,” Spyro admitted, legitimately impressed.

“He did raise me,” Cynder replied.

Malefor’s chuckle had ended, and he shook his head.

“You are dangerous, my dark daughter,” he said. “Very dangerous.”

“...hang on,” Spyro muttered. “Hey, Cynder, go over there a sec, okay?”

Cynder frowned, then paced over to where Spyro was pointing.

“Great!” Spyro said. “Now, is it me or do we kinda look alike?”

“Trying to measure yourself against greatness?” Malefor asked.

“You think you’re great?” Spyro retorted, laughing. “No way! We’ll beat you again if-”

“He’s trying to distract you from how you said something meaningful,” Cynder interrupted. “I think you might actually be right about that, Spyro.”

“Hey, don’t sound so surprised,” Spyro muttered. “So, what, am I his kid or something?”

“No, but… similar in another way,” Cynder said. “I think…”

She closed her eyes, shaking her head and frowning as her tail lashed from side to side.

“I almost had it there,” she said.

“What a shame,” Malefor said, snidely.

“Is the background noise bothering you?” Spyro asked. “Because I think I can stop it.”

Cynder’s wings twitched, then relaxed, and she approached Spyro.

“I think… there was something,” she said. “I really hope this is right, Spyro.”

“What is?” Spyro asked, mystified now.

Cynder leaned in.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Spyro’s eyes snapped open, then he gasped.

“...huh,” he said, before rounding on Malefor. “Okay, what did you do?”

“Oh, fine,” Malefor muttered. “I may as well get in one good gloat… I told you purple dragons could master any element, and I told you that purple dragons could remake the world. Did you think that was an idle boast?”

“You used an element,” Spyro said. “To… turn the world into a new version of itself.”

“Exactly,” Malefor replied, with a chuckle. “Everyone thinks of elements in such pedestrian terms. They didn’t recognize that I had created the element of fear… that anything, truly anything, could be an element. Like decay… like technology... like rebooting the whole universe, if I so chose!And-”

Spyro spread his wings, light crackling around them in a peculiar, pixelated sort of way.

“-and you made a mistake,” he replied. “You told me what you did!”

Wild light surrounded them, and then the whole world shone around them-

Up in the hills over Midday Gardens, Spyro rolled on his back and sighed.

“So, what do you think?” he asked.

“You could have had better aim,” Cynder replied, shaking her head. “And you could have made Trigger Happy into just about anything other than a gnorc running a beach resort.”

“I didn’t have much time to aim,” Spyro pointed out. “At least my face looks better now.”

Cynder chuckled.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” she replied, lying down next to him.

She yawned.

“Still not sure you did enough to stop Malefor,” she mumbled.

“I turned him red,” Spyro pointed out. “That was the only thing I could think of. So he’s not a purple dragon any more.”

“I suppose that’ll have to do,” Cynder sighed.

[happy-capy-art]

🎮 What is your favorite game era? (ex. games for the Switch, Wii, N64, etc.)

SNES and N64! I watched my brother play the original Zelda games but Link to the Past and Ocarina of Time where the games I got to play and beat myself!

📚 What's your favorite piece of LoZ media (ex. the manga, games, sourcebooks, spinoffs, etc.)?

- The Legend of Zelda: The Complete Season, the silly Saturday morning cartoon with Link going "EXCUUUUUUUUUSE ME, PRINCESS" - The Link to the Past comic book mini-series (I found my copy for 99 cents at a Good will back in '98 and then Nintendo re-released it again in 2015) - A few t-shirts from Yetee! Grabbed one that had a zora design and I cant wait for it to arrive 😭

🦈 If you could be any race or creature in the games, what would you be?

Oh this is a good question 🤔 I was gonna pick goron or rito because rolling around or flying would be awesome, but Im also thinking Twili because the ✨aesthetic✨

🚫 Who's the worst LoZ character?

A tie between Ingo (OoT), the Gorman Brothers (MM), and Malo (TP) - Ingo - immediately pledges allegiance to Ganon, forces Malon to work. She says that he threatens to abuse the horses if she doesn't obey D:< - The Gorman bros - They torment poor Cremia and Romami trying to put them out of business while doing their own swindling - Malo - this isn't about his weird baby features, he literally takes over Hyrule with capitalism. He's Twilight Princess' version of Sam Walton. And what's worse is you help him!

✨ What's your favorite thing about the franchise?

The exploring in games! Meeting the characters (the friends you make along the way?) and THE MUSIC!!!

🔢 On a scale from 1-10 how big of a LoZ nerd/fan are you?

Honestly, I thought I wasn't that big of a nerd but after going over these questions I might put myself at a 7 or 8. I realized that got a lot of stuff: books, jewelry, guides, t-shirts, stickers, amiibos, plushies! I missed out on a few games but only because I didn't have a gamecube or DS

🐚 If you could have any item from the games, what would you choose?

Ocarina of Time. Control the timeline control the world 👀 NO WAIT ID WANT EPONA!!! MY GIRL! THE BEST GIRL!!!!

🎬 Opinions on the news that a live-action LoZ is being made…?

I don't like what Ive heard. I wish they didn't feel the need to make one. Im being a grumpy grump, but one of the fun things with Link was to project your own neurosis personality onto him. He was the hero you wanted him to be in a lot of these games.

All my friends were already tagged 😭 I dont know who else likes Zelda

OH NO! It's one of those obnoxious TAG YOUR FRIENDS things, except it's THE LEGEND OF ZELDA THEMED!

Although, if you haven't been tagged and you want to do this or send it asking to someone, PLEASE DO SO! Everyone's welcome. Without further ado, here's the questions! answer as many as you like.

🎮 What is your favorite game era? (ex. games for the Switch, Wii, N64, etc.)

📚 What's your favorite piece of LoZ media (ex. the manga, games, sourcebooks, spinoffs, etc.)?

🦈 If you could be any race or creature in the games, what would you be?

🚫 Who's the worst LoZ character?

✨ What's your favorite thing about the franchise?

🔢 On a scale from 1-10 how big of a LoZ nerd/fan are you?

🐚 If you could have any item from the games, what would you choose?

🎬 Opinions on the news that a live-action LoZ is being made...?

Have fun & as always, stay cool!

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

As per usual, it’s DP crossover with (probably) DC, although you could probably adjust it for other fandoms

ANYWAYS

A little kid and his mother are trick or treating in another city, perhaps at some kind of event rather than knocking on doors, and the kid is dressed as Phantom. It’s very adorable, with his little ghost-shaped bucket and clearly homemade and already stained costume—listen, white only works if you can just fly over street grime or phase it out of your clothes—and his slightly I’ll fitting wig. The kid is SO happy to be out and about dressed as his favorite, and maybe even showed it off to Phantom back in Amity Park before his family left.

The hero, insert whoever you wish here, is probably in civvies and just enjoying the event. The kid, meanwhile, is so glad when people ask who he is so he can explain, and so- the hero gets to hear ALL ABOUT the local town hero who is probably pretty small time despite the kid’s clearly exaggerated stories. The hero certainly never heard of him, but the kid’s mom confirms that Phantom really was the town hero, despite some mixed reviews of the poor guy.

“Did you manage to show him your costume?” the hero asks.

“Yeah! We went down to the cemetery to leave flowers and I got to show him my costume.”

Wait. Cemetery? Maybe it was part of theme, because Phantom had to be named that for a reason, but… it sounded like…

The kid ignores the suddenly VERY still hero and instead turns to his mom. “Momma, do you think we should bring him candy? He doesn’t get to trick or treat like we do, and I can work super hard to get him a bunch!”

The kid’s mom just smiles. “We could, but maybe we should bring him something homemade. I bet he’d like something more filling, teen boys like him have a hollow leg.”

The kid wrinkles his nose. “Like Vernie with the pizza bagels?”

“Like your cousin, yes. We can make some cinnamon rolls and take them to his memorial, maybe bring some of the apples from your grandpa’s garden…”

The hero is pretty much forgotten as the two-part family wanders off, not quite intentionally forgetting the hero is there so much as the hero somewhat accidentally ended the conversation when they just froze and didn’t ask anything further.

Not that the hero didn’t want to. But they’d learn something very serious.

One—there was a small town hero they’d never heard of. Two—that hero was apparently a teen. Third—most pressingly, the teen hero was both beloved enough to have kids dressing up as him and dead enough to have a grave.

This… might require some phone calls.

[mamawasatesttube]

superboy/robin: world's finest three #1

now hold on a minute. hey kon? why do you know about the flying graysons? kon that's way before your time. kon you are less than a year old and they have been in the ground for over a decade. was there a cadmus scientist who just felt really strongly about aerialists or did kon go on some kind of anachronistic wikipedia binge? kon i need answers

[crazysodomite]

i like blender because its kind of an everything program and you can Kinda just do everything there. and its free. so even its not the best for certain things you can still make it work. and i think it inspires creativity bc if you Actually know blender well you will be able to do wild experimental stuff that wouldn't really be possible in other programs without a whole Pipeline with 10 billion different programs. this is why when i see some really creative stuff its almost always blender.

[jils-things]

ive been watching a LOT of mlp recently (talked abt it a lot on my alt), a lot of its world building flew past my head because i was just too young to bother understanding the intricacies of this cute series but wow looking at it now, it makes me want to make a pony oc 🥹 no yume attempt, i just wanna make a cute pony 🥹