#through something does seem Off about him

[iris-qt]

He’s Never Like This

drunk theo, soft chaos, and a lot of feelings he normally pretends he doesn’t have

You tell yourself it’s nothing.

Just concern. Basic human decency. Something any reasonable person would do when their best friend shows up at a party with shadows under his eyes from the stress of finals week and a drink in his hand he doesn’t seem to remember picking up.

You tell yourself that even as you cut through the haze of perfume and smoke and too-loud laughter in the common room, scanning for him. Even as your heartbeat quickens, like it always does when he’s near.

You find him on the floor.

Well. Slouched on the floor. One leg stretched out, the other bent just enough to rest his elbow on it. His tie’s been loosened and forgotten, his shirt’s half-untucked, and someone has drawn a tiny star in blue ink on the back of his hand. You can tell from the way he’s swaying slightly that he’s had far more than usual. Theodore Nott doesn’t get drunk. Not like this.

“Hey,” you murmur, crouching beside him.

He looks up slowly, eyes unfocused but still undeniably, devastatingly him.

“You came,” he says, a little too loudly, with a dopey smile that doesn’t belong on his face. “I was thinking about you, and then... you’re here. That’s magic.”

You glance around. No one's paying attention. Somehow, that makes it worse.

“You okay?” you ask, soft, careful. “You drank a lot.”

He nods sagely. “I did. I deserve a medal. Or a nap.”

“You hate parties.”

“I do hate parties,” he agrees, swaying slightly. “But I like you.”

You blink. “Theo—”

“And you weren’t gonna come,” he adds, pouty now. “You said, ‘Too much homework,’ and I thought, ‘That’s fine. I’ll just drown myself in alcohol and existential dread.’ Very poetic.”

You exhale slowly. “Alright. Let’s get you out of here.”

You help him up. He’s heavier than he looks, and he clings to you like you’re both drowning and you’re the only piece of driftwood in the sea.

He leans close as you start leading him toward the boys’ dorm.

“You smell like vanilla,” he whispers.

You try to keep your expression neutral. “You smell like firewhiskey and poor decisions.”

“That’s my new cologne,” he says solemnly. “Limited edition.”

You get him to sit on his bed, and he flops backwards dramatically, limbs everywhere, eyes fluttering shut.

“I should kiss you,” he says to the ceiling.

You freeze.

“What?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he mutters. “Too dizzy. Might miss.”

You sit on the edge of the bed, pulling off his shoes with practiced motions. “You’re gonna be so embarrassed tomorrow.”

He hums. “Not if you never tell me what I said.”

You smile. “Oh, I’m writing everything down.”

He groans, turning his face into the pillow. “You’re evil. Beautiful and evil. That’s a dangerous combo.”

You adjust the blanket over him, brush a bit of his hair off his forehead.

“Sleep, Theo.”

But as you turn to go, his fingers catch your wrist. His eyes are half-lidded, voice quiet now, barely a whisper.

“Stay?” he asks. “Just ‘til I fall asleep.”

You pause. Swallow.

Then nod.

You sit back down. He closes his eyes, hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist.

And just as sleep starts to pull him under, he murmurs,

“I don’t like anyone else like this. Only you.”

[accidentcache]

your daughter has a new, strange habit.

you don't know where she got it from. you've been racking your brain trying to figure out where and when she started it. with no clues or leads, you've been stuck to just watch and ponder what exactly the hell she's doing.

whenever your hand her something for lunch, for dinner-- if it's some kind of finger food, she does this odd little thing where she taps the food on the edge of her plate after proudly presenting it to you even though you were the one to give it to her.

she's a strange four year old, but she's cute. gets it from her father, you think to yourself.

it's not until keigo comes home from a particularly long mission that you bring it up to him. as usual, his smooth and easy demeanor makes the topic seem more endearing than anything concerning that you were thinking up.

in the back of your head, you're wondering if she'll do it still even while keigo's home. you don't think much of it, though. it's just a cute little habit, she four. nothing to worry about.

so when keigo mentions going out to dinner-- it's routine to go out to eat whenever he gets home from lengthy missions-- you agree like always. your daughter is over the moon, excited to eat some good food with her father and get spoiled endlessly. (much to your chagrin.)

you've honestly forgotten all about korra's little habit. with keigo back home, he makes things so much easier. he's always been easy to talk to, easy to relax around. he makes parenthood seem so much easier when he's got her next to him, doodling on the restaurant children's pages with her, giggling as they bicker and tease each other through a game of tic tac toe.

by the time the food comes out, you're thoroughly charmed and there are hearts in your eyes whenever he sneaks a glance at you.

and then it happens in slow motion, it seems. both your daughter and keigo-- practically carbon copies of each other-- move in sync. each of them with a skewer of yakitori in hand, lift it upwards-- and then tap it three times against the edge of their plate.

your face drops in realization.

keigo, ever the perceptive one; catches your expression almost immediately. "what, what's wrong?"

"she got it from you."

"got what?" he looks clueless. his hands are moving on their own, out of habit. completely unaware that next to him that his mini-me is copying his movements identically.

you can't help the grin that curls along your mouth. shaking your head, you laugh and brush off his confusion. you don't say anything, nor do you feel the need to. guess keigo was right-- it was just a cute little habit.

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

[finallychaoticeffigy]

Can you make a fic where the reader is in a mental hospital and their psychiatrist is a yandere, who purposely keeps reader unstable so he can keep treating them?

Yandere psychiatrist x patient reader

(sorry this is late, my life's falling apart)

It's been over 6 months since you've been admitted to a mental hospital. Apparently you have some sort of mental illness you didn't understand, but you trust your parents especially the Doctors. They're professional and they know whats best . You didn't like the fact that they recommended you staying here but you agreed since you didn't wanna seem crazy, the more you tried to refuse the more they'll be convinced your ill, you pondered lost in thoughts.

You hissed when you felt the needle being pressed into contact with your skin. That sharp metalic object, Gosh how you hate that thing. For some reason during your time period of staying here, you didn't seem to be getting any better. Infact you seem to be getting worse. You started thinking if it was the medicine that's making you feel worse. You softly rub your temples. 'NO' you thought. That's exactly how a mentaly ill person thinks . They all think that the medicine given by the doctors are bad news, and your becoming one of them. 

"How are you doing Y/n? " your doctor interrupted, softly caressing your hand that was placed on your lap.

Your personal Doctor is literally the hottest guy you've ever seen. You remembered first time seeing him ,your felt your mouth unconsciously dropped to the floor. That's one of the reason you agreed staying here, a hot Doctor will seriously makes you feel better.

"Um...Good, i think? " You lied, No you don't feel good. You started seeing things that weren't there. The headaches, the hallucinations, you know it wasn't normal , especially after you saw a patient walking with four legs.

It was quite a funny sight. "HAHAHA" you unconsciously laughed. The image of the woman with four legs flashed through your mind. 

You suddenly stopped and looked at the male doctor beside you already eying you carefully. He pulled out his notes and wrote something quick.

"Did i say something funny?" He raised a brow, taking your hand squeezing it.

You softly yank your hand away. He's always so touchy that it makes you uncomfortable, but hey hes a professional and hes hot so you brushed it off....but that's the least of your concern now. "This isn't what it looks like i swear. Um ..... I just thought of something funny.... I didn't like laugh for no reason.. I'm not ill" you  defensively declared biting your lips. It's not a lie, you've always laugh with your own ever since you were a kid thinking about something. Wait.... does that mean you've had mental illness ever since you were in nappies!?

He chuckled taking your hands and placing it with his. "It's fine...When I'm thinking of something, it sometimes makes me happy too" He flashed you a cute smile.

"Hmm.. i see hehe" 

"I just need you to take this medicine and your good to sleep" he muttered softly 

He takes out what seems to be a medicine and feeds it on you. "Swallow my dear " you did as he instructed . "Goodjob.. you're always so good Y/n. " He grin wider caressing your hair.

"Doc?"

"Yeah Y/n?"

"Why are you so touchy? I don't know...It makes me uncomfortable sometimes" you mumbled feeling shy, you weren't one of those types to confront others. You were used to keeping your mouth shut and just letting others do what they want, but this time you got a bit of courage.

"What do you mean? I'm not doing anything wrong y/n. This is why your not getting any better, your always overthinking stuff. You need to start trusting people especially those who wants to help you Y/n" he said ,tone changing. Is he angry? Disappointed? You can't read his expression.

"I'm sorry... Um i will sleep now . Please leave" you lay on your bed feeling comfort.

"No, i need to observe more"

"Again?" You asked, voice masked of disappointment.

"Yes y/n ,again"

You felt yourself drifting to sleep . Sleeping now was easier than before . You used to tossed and turn but with the help of sleeping pills, you didn't have to anymore.

The man watched the girl asleep. Face flushed, heart shaped pupil and heavy panting. His hands traveled to her thighs and gently squeezed it. He got up from the chair he was sitting on and lay next to her .

He was being a creep, and he knows it.But fuck he loves and craves for her so much he didn't even think about morals. He wrapped his huge arms around her small waist hugging her and sniffing her addicting scent.

"Baby... I am so sorry, i know this is wrong but I can't help myself, i love you way to much. " He whispered licking her neck.

"Poor baby, i know am practically giving you poison, but i promise it won't hurt you too bad. Just enough so you can stay here... By my side." He embraced her tighter, giving her kisses all over her sleeping face.

"Your mine. Your only mine my Y/n. Your mine" he chanted reapetedly as he bit your cheeks

You winced in your sleep, having no idea what's been happening. He smiled, happiness evidence in his eyes. 

------+--+--+--------+++----------

"What ? Is that even allowed? " You questioned clearly shock. You're gonna stay at his house for 'recovery' apparently you need calm invironment where you can be alone. You can't go home yet so your best choice was his house, others explained.

"Dude what the fridge... I don't think that's appropriate. I thought you all graduated from Harvard or something, where's your common sense?" 

"I know what it seems like dear. But your doctor suggested it and it seems like a nice idea. It's for your own good , we care alot about our patients you see" the woman about in her 30s explained 

"Clearly" you said voice toned with sarcasm. You didn't argue further, you knew you couldn't do anything especially your basically recorded as a person with mental health problems. 

The headaches and hallucinations just seems to get worse. You almost couldn't get out of bed but today your legs unusually cooperated.

The door suddenly flung open revealing a massive man in his coat. Him. He looks strangely happy , like he just won a lotto or something. 

"Y/n come now, let's go home" he reached his out his hands with a smile which you clearly ignored and walked passed him. You were upset that the home your going to wasn't your own. You missed your room. You missed staying up late just binged reading shits on your phone.

Oh well... atleast your gonna gonna get out of that white room. It makes you sick seeing nothing but White and being outside again makes you a bit excited. 

When you left the smile that he already had grew wider. He just loves you so much. He would do anything just to be with you .

[munsonify]

admiring

pairing. bob reynolds x reader

summary. three times bob catches you staring, and the one time he confronts you about it

content warning. slight nsfw thoughts 18+ (very very brief/light detail), a little angst but mostly just a load of fluff, pining, new avengers!era and new avengers!r, mentions of insecurities (bobs), overthinking (both bob and r), non-established relationships

word count. 3695

a/n. i’m hardcore projecting myself into some of this my bad gang. also the dialogue kind of sucks so im sorry. not proofread

———

the briefing room

it had been an oddly quiet day for bob. he’d spent it alone, catching up on laundry that was 2 weeks overdue, finishing a book that’d been glued to his hand for the past couple days. there wasn’t a single interruption, not a single word spoken or an accidental run-in from anybody on the team.

bob hadn’t quite noticed until around 6 in the afternoon, lounging on his bed, staring at the ceiling. music played lowly in the headphones he had on, fingers thrumming against his chest in tandem with the soft bass in the back. normally by now, he would’ve had a knock at his door from walker, or a handful of missed texts from yelena claiming they needed him for something important.

he found that the word important meant very different things to these people.

the only person who seemed to have a grasp on what that was was bucky - who, by the way, was the one who interrupted his incredibly peaceful day. the thrumming of his knuckles against bobs door broke him out of his trance. letting his eyes roll into the back of his head, he pushed himself off of his bed, tugging his headphones off and letting it settle around his neck.

bucky was standing outside bobs door, visibly annoyed. and as if reading his mind-

“can’t let you rest for too long, kid. val wants us down in the briefing room in ten.”

“did she say why?” bob asked, scratching the back of his head. he really didn’t want to deal with her today.

“nope,” bucky told him, shaking his head in disbelief. “she barely ever does. just be there, got it?”

that’s how bobs perfectly fine day turned into a raging headache. val had practically nothing of value to say, and even if she did, he wasnt listening. after five minutes of sitting in those god awful office chairs, his mind began to wander elsewhere. specifically, it went to how comfortable his bed had been just 20 minutes ago.

what snapped bob out of his thought was the odd feeling that someone was staring at him. with furrowed eyebrows, his eyes began to flick through the room until they landed on you.

in the few short months that the team had been living inside of the tower, bob hadn’t quite gotten a read on you. he’d spoke to you briefly in passing, just a simple hello, but never anything more. that seemed to be how you were with everyone though. quiet. he never took quietness personally. needless to say, seeing you staring at him caught him by surprise.

bob saw the way your eyes grew wide the moment he noticed you. you quickly pried your eyes away from his, your fingers that were once fiddling with a pen grew steady, gripping it enough for it to bend and nearly snap in your hold. his eyes lingered on you for a long few seconds, trying to finally get his read on you, only to fall short.

he wondered if, by accident, you had zoned out just like he had. that’s happened to bob before - zoned out directly staring at someone he didn’t mean to be. he remembers how mortified he’d been when that’d happened. surely, that’s what you’d done. simply tuned out of the conversation at hand.

and while bob left it at that, your mind started to spin.

for the weeks that you’d known bob, you’d grown a raging sense of curiosity about him. even from the beginning, there was something about the man that intrigued you - it wasn’t the serum he’d stumbled upon or the powers he’d gained from it, no. it was the way he carried himself, awkward and lanky with a sort of sideways confidence tied in with it. the sharp features he had didn’t seem to quite fit him you didn’t think, though you couldn’t help but admire them, especially in contrast to his soft, round blue eyes.

you were simply admiring bob when he’d caught you staring. god you wished he hadn’t. despite how entranced you were with him, you’d barely spoken to him. you couldn’t quite bring yourself to hold a conversation with him just yet. eventually, you were sure you would.

———

the training room

training with walker was always exhausting. he’s a diligent, hardworking, relentless man who strived for perfection - of course that shines through when he trains. it was good practice sparring with him, and you always felt good about yourself after somehow managing through workouts with him. still, you were over the moon when you finally called it quits for the day.

“you did good, just remember to keep your shoulders back when you’re throwing punches,” walker commented, tossing a cool towel at your chest.

“thanks walker,” you mumbled as you searched around for your crisp water. neither of you were the best with words, so you kept it at that. simple. effective.

your knees nearly gave out on you as you bent down to grab the water you were in desperate need of. walker was somewhere across the training room putting away the rest of the equipment you’d used today. somehow, he still had the energy to do all of it. you simply chalked up to the super serum. it makes you feel better about yourself.

through the clanking of metal, you could hear footsteps approaching the training room. the sound of two voices slowly began to echo into earshot, one in which made your heart miss a beat or two. you looked down at yourself in agony.

with the towel hung around your neck to soothe your heated skin, you began to realize just how worn you looked. your thin tank top clung to your sticky skin, sweat dripping slightly down onto the floor below you. your knees were trembling still, something that only worsened the moment he walked into the room.

yelena strutted her way into the room with confidence, bob right behind her, nearly tripping over the foamy mat as he stepped onto it. you were quick to look at the man - tall and clumsy, wearing workout clothes you were sure he’d never wear out of this room. your mind was quick to move from your appearance at the sight of him.

while your confidence has grown the longer you’d been in the watchtower, you still couldn’t bring yourself to communicate properly with bob. you were beginning to be a little better with it, making small talk that eventually died down after a few minutes. otherwise, you fell short.

“i was just telling bob how you finally did the widow move,” yelena spoke out to you, snapping you out of your thoughts. a few awkward moments passed as you realized bob had caught you staring again before you forced your eyes away. “it was pretty badass.”

you hummed out in agreement with yelena, taking a nervous drink of your water as you started your way towards the exit. this was your time to leave before things became worse for you.

“yeah,” you chuckled nervously, small smile playing on your lips. your eyes glanced over at bob, who hadn’t let you out of your sight since he’d caught you. “‘s a pretty cool move. glad to finally master it.”

“oh, i didn’t say master,” yelena quipped, pointing her index finger at you sternly. “i just said you did it.”

“i’m sure you did g-great,” bob finally spoke, stuttering slightly on his words. he knew the widow move, he’d seen yelena do it himself. the thought of you doing it successfully had him choking on his words.

he was quick to move past your stare this time around, his mind otherwise preoccupied. that didn’t stop him from wondering on it later in the day, long after the both of you left the training room. he still chalked your gaze up to nothing but a coincidence, even if it did have him a nervous mess.

———

the kitchen

it was never uncommon for bob to stay up through the night. silence was hard to come by in his mind when he had so much to think about. when he became restless like this, he turned to quiet walks around the tower to try and clear his mind, or a book to read to try and suppress it all. unfortunately for him, none of his coping mechanisms quite worked for him some nights.

the coffee that just finished brewing was the first of many attempts bob made to keep his body going today, the late night turning into a very early morning. he could already see the sunrise on the horizon out of the corner of his eye as he poured the coffee shakily. his normal mug was sitting in the sink, the insides stained slightly by coffee he had drank the day before. the man settled on a mug with a garfield graphic instead.

bob glanced over at the stove, a huff of air coming out of his nose the moment his eyes found the time. 6:05. the grip he had on the mug tightened while he finished preparing it. with hunched shoulders, he shuffled over to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair just enough for him to slide into it. he wanted nothing more than to rest in his bed, large and warm and welcoming. but alas, his mind still wouldn’t quiet down, not quite. a buzz rang low and steady in the back of his head.

that’s when you walked in. bobs head snapped up the moment he heard your quiet footsteps, eyes that were once unfocused on the table focused in on your figure as you stumbled into the large kitchen. he could feel his whole body tense, throat tightening up slightly as you glanced over at him and offering him a small smile.

bob noticed that he tensed up around you a lot. he was prone to nervousness around you. everything about you captivated him - the way you spoke, the way you looked, the way you carried yourself. even if you never really interacted with him, he couldn’t help but admire you. a part of him knew that he tensed up around you for another reason. that weird little staring problem you had, one that only seemed to be directed at him and no one else.

“g’morning,” you spoke, voice quiet and a little raw from sleep. bob gave you a half-hearted smile back, mumbling a good morning to you. his eyes began to dart between you and the open space that surrounded him in an anxious sort of way. he wasn’t quite sure where to put his eyes.

“mind if i have some?” you asked, thumb motioning over to the pot of coffee on the countertop. you were already grabbing ahold of a floral mug in the cabinet, though, like you already knew the answer.

“‘course,” bob nodded. he suddenly became aware of how he must look - hair a mess, eyelids drooping and bloodshot, a slump to him that he couldn’t straighten up to save his life. he tried to distract himself from his own appearance with yours.

not in a bad way, never a bad way. simply in a curious way. with your back to him, pouring yourself a cup of coffee, he noticed that your baggy shirt had a few holes in it. it reminded him of the clothes he wears to bed, old and worn and perfect to sleep in. as a matter of fact, there was a hole in the armpit of the shirt he was wearing now. most of his clothes were like that.

bob noticed that you poured an obscene amount of milk into your coffee, almost too much. he was well aware of the bitter taste, a taste he didn’t like much, but this was just absurd. he could excuse it though on accounts of you being so pretty. even fresh out of sleep, you caught his eye.

his gaze snapped back to the table the moment he noticed you starting to move again. you turned around, mug in hand, before waddling yourself over to a seat. you sat at a respectable distance from the man - far enough away so that you weren’t crowding his personal space, but close enough so that it didn’t seem like you were allergic to being around him. you sometimes wished you could consider being a chronic over thinker a hobby.

you found your eyes wandering off to bob again. it’s like they couldn’t help but gravitate towards him. the first thing you noticed about him was his eyes, and how tired they looked. you were aware he struggled to sleep. there had been nights where you had caught him walking the halls of the tower while you were in search of a glass of water or a late night snack. he truly looked exhausted this morning, though, like he was forcing his body upright.

your eyes eventually drifted down to his hands. bob had both wrapped firmly around his mug with two fingers slipped beneath the handle. if you hadn’t known there was a garfield mug inside of the pantry you wouldn’t have been able to pinpoint what the orange peaking past his fingers was - bobs hands were large.

you blinked a few slow, hard times as you processed that thought of yours. you watched as a pointer finger of his traced the ceramic rhythmically, a grounding technique of his. you began to wonder what his fingers would feel like against you, dancing against your skin like they were that mug. you wondered what his hands would feel like against your face, warm and a little shaky. you wondered what they’d feel like against your hips, firm and unmoving as he held you close. the thought of his hands drifting further down your body has your head going a little fuzzy.

it wasn’t until bob let out a strained cough, shifting uncomfortably in his seat that you’d realized you’d been staring for far too long. your bottom lip that somehow traveled between your teeth was released from its confines quickly, eyes darting away immediately. now it was your turn to tense up.

while bob didn’t say a word, his mind began to swirl. of course, the moment he’d thought he’d had his mind under control, his thoughts began to betray him again, picking right back up at the speed from earlier.

why were you always staring at him? what he once thought was a coincidence was now quickly spiraling into something that had to be purposeful, personal. was he doing something wrong that was making you stare? were you upset with him? were you wanting the mug he was using? or was this all in his head? couldn’t be.

rather than asking you, bob chose to do nothing but sit in his uncomfortable-ness. this was something for him to deal with when he wasn’t so tired.

———

the common area

it was hard to find peace and quiet in the tower. between constant bickering, mission briefing and debriefing, and simply existing together, noise was something that was inevitable. while a fact, it didn’t make it any less frustrating. that’s why you appreciated any silence you were handed greatly. today was no different.

for the first time in two weeks, the common area was empty, motionless, and quiet. you were quick to occupy one of the squishy rocking chairs that inhabited the open room, resting into it and sighing in relief. the warmth of the sun spilled into the room through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, engulfing you perfectly. the sun wasn’t shining in your eyes, though it gave you the exact lighting you needed to get some reading done.

with your feet propped up on the now reclined chair, you did just that. in peace.

there were only two other members of the team inside of the tower. bucky was in his room, finally finding peace in the quiet tower just like you were. without walker and ava bickering, or alexei’s usual obnoxious demeanor, he didn’t have anyone to rope him into their bullshit. you liked bucky, and bucky liked you. you respected each others personal space.

bob was also inside the tower. though, while you respected each others space, you somehow always ended up within it anyways. at the beginning, you didn’t mind his company. he’s thoughtfully quiet, and you found that he made good conversation. but now? now all you wanted to do was crawl out of your skin and hide while he was near.

he made you painfully shy and insanely flustered and you hated it. the worst part? it didn’t even seem like he was trying.

it’s why you tensed up the moment you saw bob walk into the common area. you were sure that if you weren’t partially facing towards the entrance you wouldn’t have noticed him. the man was always so quiet on his feet. your eyes flicker up from your book, forcing a small smile on your lips to acknowledge and greet him.

bob offered up a small, toothy smile back at you, fingers wiggling slightly in a wave. if you weren’t so caught up in breathing properly you would’ve noticed the way he cringed at himself, nose crinkling up all cute as he overthought and instantly regretted his hello.

he went over to a chair closer to the windows, slipping on his headphones, before fumbling with his phone to find music to play. bob loved having this opportunity. it wasn’t often he could sit and listen to music, simply staring out the window and into the large city. sometimes he admired the sight, looking at what hustle and bustle he could make out down on the streets, scanning the skyline for everything and nothing. other times, he simply just stared, engulfed in his own thoughts or the music he had playing.

and, despite pressing shuffle on a good playlist of his, bob decided that thinking was the way to go today. especially since the thinking had to do with you, and how he desperately wanted to confront you. now would be the perfect time. you two were alone, and bob was sure bucky wouldn’t find his way in here anytime soon.

even if the man didn’t intrude on the conversation, bob felt like he was cornering you. you were so clearly enjoying your quiet time, engulfed in a book he couldn’t quite see the title of. he’d hate to interrupt you. that was until he caught you staring. again.

in your defense, you were also deep in thought. bob looked so cozy in his seat, a large black hoodie engulfing him in warmth, hair slightly disheveled. he finally looked well rested, too. you were simply admiring the man as your mind started to run laps, wondering how it’d feel to hug him, feel the warmth he felt right now. you didn’t even really notice you were staring at him this time.

“do you, like, hate me or something?” bob blurted out, breaking the silence between the two of you. he was quick to take his headphones off, placing it in his lap with a little too much force. your book that was once loosely grasped on your hands was in your lap in an instant, pages fluttering shut, losing your place.

“what?” you croaked out, eyes wide. you began to shake your head quickly. “no!”

bob couldn’t help but scoff. “are you sure? it kinda seems like you do!”

“yes, bob, i’m sure!”

“then what’s going on?” he asked you in a weak voice. his eyes were owlish as he stared at you, face etched in nothing but worry and anxiousness. bob looked like he could cry. “if you want me to give you space i can, i just… i wanna know why you’re always so weird around me. why you always stare.”

your heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach as he spoke, guilt and anxiety filling your bones as you tried to think of a response. all this time, bob thought you didn’t like him, that your staring and your awkwardness was out of spite, not out of admiration.

“bob,” you let out, voice cracking slightly as you adjusted upright in the chair you sat in. “i’m sorry, i don’t hate you.”

a hand found its way to your forehead, rubbing gently as you let out a shaky breath. you couldn’t believe you were about to say any of this.

“i stare cause i think you’re really nice to look at. like really nice. and you’re always so kind to me. i just get so nervous around you and i forget how to act. im so sorry i made you think i hated you or something, i actually quite like you.”

those round blue eyes of bobs don’t leave you even after you’re done speaking. they stare into you like it’d hurt to leave, or like he’d miss something important if he didn’t keep staring. you noticed quickly that his hands started to mess with the headphones in his lap, anxiously feeling against the warm material.

he tried and failed to push down the adorable red blush that started to creep up his neck, the tips of his ears thankfully hidden beneath his hair. this way, he was able to spare some of his dignity. your confession had him flustered and at loss for words. which really sucked right now. you were staring at him again, this time expectedly. you’re patient, you always had been - that didn’t stop him from feeling like he needed something to say to you, and quickly.

“oh,” bob whispered, only barely finding something to say to you.

“yeah,” you whispered back, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on it anxiously.

finally, bob had something meaningful to contribute. “i think you’re really nice to look at too.”

he let out a relieved sigh the moment he saw a small smile play on your lips. this time, when you looked over at him, bob didn’t overthink it. he didn’t question himself, or try to fold in on himself. he simply let it happen. he let himself stare back at you, eyes gazing into yours, smiling just like you were. it finally felt right.

[vainvenus]

code red. | charles leclerc + alexandra saint mleux | prologue

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux

Synopsis: When Ferrari announces their newest driver, the internet lights up and so does Charles' and Alexandra's Leclerc’s curiosity.

Includings: Dark!Charles and Alexandra, slight smau, aurelia nobels as the faceclaim!, reader is described as quiet/shy, slight cyberstalking, possessive behavior, kimi won't have a seat + lewis stays at merc

An: I feel like they're aren't enough Charles x reader x Alex stories so I'm contributing!!!

The day started like any other quiet one.

A little sunlight slipping past the curtain. The scent of coffee drifting through the apartment. A soft clink of spoons and ceramic in the kitchen.

Charles was leaned back on the couch, hoodie sleeves bunching at his elbows, legs stretched out, phone balanced loosely in his hand. Alexandra sat on the floor, back against the couch, scrolling with the same lazy attention.

“Wait,” She said suddenly, breaking the silence with a whisper instead of a shout. “Charles.”

He hummed, distracted.

“No, seriously. Look.”

She turned her phone toward him.

Instagram. Ferrari’s account. A new post, just dropped.

@scuderiaferrari

liked by f1newsandupdates, thegossiponthegrid, olliebearman and 70.5k others.

tagged : ynln95

scuderiaferrari: A new chapter begins. [Y/n] [L/n] will take the second seat at Scuderia Ferrari for the 2025 season. Welcome to the Prancing Horse! 🐎🇮🇹

Charles sat up, eyebrows furrowing as he clicked into the carousel.

The first image was striking and not in the flashy, over-posed way most announcement photos were. It was a shot of you from behind, the prancing horse was stitched into your back like it belonged there. Your last name printed bold in white beneath it.

There was something defiant in the way your shoulders squared.

Quietly proud.

Swipe.

The second photo was the one that made Charles go still.

You sat in a studio setup, clothed in all black — a mesh turtleneck and a fitted corset top. Sharp leather pants. One hand resting on your lap, the other gripping your red helmet.

You didn’t smile.

You didn’t perform.

You looked into the camera like you weren’t trying to charm anyone. Like you knew eyes would be on you, and had made peace with it. Barely.

There was poise in it. A kind of uncomfortable grace, like you’d been told to look confident and you did even if it didn’t sit naturally.

“She’s beautiful.” Alexandra whispered.

Charles didn’t answer. Not right away.

The third photo was the official driver portrait. You in the full Ferrari suit. Hands planted on your hips, shoulders lifted like armor, eyes focused slightly off-camera. Your full name sat in white across your waist with your home country's flag to the right of it.

You didn’t look excited. You looked composed. But your lips held a small, unreadable curve. Like you were still deciding how much of yourself you were willing to give the world.

Charles scrolled back to the second photo. The black outfit. The helmet. Your stare towards the camera.

“Shes seems reserved.” He said at last. “Even here. You can see it in the way she holds herself.”

Alexandra nodded. “She looks like she didn’t want to be styled for this. But she did it anyway.”

“Like she's trying to not take up space." Charles murmured.

He clicked into your profile.

Public. Professional. Clean.

A mix of quiet lifestyle photos and track content. Almost no selfies. A few sponsor clips. Soft smiles at podiums. Eyes on the floor in media day pictures. Videos where teammates did the talking and you nodded quietly beside them. Even in press events where you were clearly the focus, you always seemed to shrink into the background.

“She doesn’t post much about herself." Alexandra noted, skimming your feed from over his shoulder.

“She does.” Charles said. “Just not loudly like all the other rookies do. No flashy vacations or posing in front of billion dollar cars."

There were photos of you cuddled up on your sofa with a book, near the fireplace with a book curled into your lap. A snapshot of your hand holding a pen on a hotel notepad, the corner of a breakfast tray in frame. Quiet moments.

He found a clip from three years ago. You were young— maybe seventeen. Sweat dripping down your face, helmet in hand, doing a victory interview after a karting win. The reporter was chirpy. You…weren’t.

You answered softly. Politely. Every few seconds, your eyes darted to the side like you were looking for an out, a safe place, anyone to step in and take the attention off of you.

But when they asked you how you felt crossing the line, you looked up, directly at the camera, and said:

"Grateful. I’ve worked for this for a long time and I'm still trying to process it."

That was it. Nothing flashy. Just the truth.

Charles rewound the clip and watched again. The way you tucked your hand under your arm. The way your thank-you was whispered, not said. The way you nodded when the camera cut off.

“She’s like a background character in her own story." Alexandra said gently.

“She doesn’t want to be seen,” Charles said, his voice barely a whisper. “But she deserves to be.”

Alexandra looked up at him.

“She reminds me of how you were when you first joined Ferrari”

He swallowed.

It wasn’t the same. He was loud sometimes. Defensive. Determined to prove himself.

But you...you didn’t need to be loud. You weren’t trying to prove anything.

You were already enough.

You just hadn’t realized it yet.

And maybe that was what Charles felt in his chest. A quiet kind of protectiveness he couldn’t explain.

He just wanted you to realize how amazing you were. For you to come out of your shell a little bit.

Alexandra reached for her coffee, smirking softly. “So,” She teased. “What are the odds you scare her the first time you say hi?”

Charles exhaled a breath of a laugh. “Probably high.”

“She’s going to be overwhelmed. You know how intense you can be with the things you like."

The Monagaseue shot her a look. "You're no better."

"I never said I was." She hummed, taking her phone back from Charles as she had clicked the follow button on your account and liked the post of your announcement.

He was in the middle of doing the same when a message from his PR manager had popped up on his screen.

Rebecca ( PR )

Hello, Charles! I see you've already seen and congratulated your new teammate, good work. She's currently in Monaco to visit her friend and I want to try and set up lunch for the two of you to get to know each other better before we have to take the 25' grid pictures on Friday. Would tomorrow at five work for you?

Charles smirked.

Hi, Rebecca. Tomorrow around five would be perfect for me. I even have a couple of restaurant suggestions if she's not too picky.

Rebecca ( PR )

Perfect! Send them and I'll ask her if she has any preferences!

"I'm having lunch with her tomorrow at five." Charles hummed with a large smile spread across his lips after he sent Rebecca a few suggestions and Alexandra raised her brows with a hum.

"You'll have to tell me all about her after! What she sounds like, what she smells like, if she's really shy or just a little introverted, favorite foods—"

"Mon amour, I think I'll be lucky if she even says hello back." He chuckled, shaking his head at her eagerness.

Plus.

If you weren't willing to share much, Charles would find a way to get that information anyway.

[revelboo]

it’s my birthday today and I turn 22, got to celebrate with lots of presents, loads of keychains and themed sticky notes for my cubicle at work 😄

Can we get some more tarn! I need that evil sociopath 👀👀 how’s reader holding up anyway 😂

Happy birthday! Reader is very carefully feeling him out now that they can understand each other

L.G. FUAD Pt 18

Tarn x Reader

• Stunned speechless that he can understand you, that you can talk to each other and aren’t limited to very bad charades anymore, you’re half tempted to go off on him. To scream about the bath, the food, the soap. Every atrocity he’s unwittingly visited on you. But it’s not escaped you that your survival is dependent on him. And while he seems to like you, it’s the affection of a pet owner for their pet. You’re not sure if he’ll tolerate being told off by the equivalent of his space gerbil. “These are coverings and human food?” Tarn asks, attention on the bins as he slides you into one hand and just grabs stuff. Apparently confiscating stuff for you and the little guy doesn’t even try to argue as he takes what he wants. Now that he knows you’re not a pet, he has to take you home, right? You can talk to him, he knows you’re sentient. He seems reasonable for a giant, alien robot, so he has to listen.

• “Big guy?” You ask and he glances at you in his palm, wide eyes staring up at him. That’s what you’ve been calling him? ‘Tarn,’ he corrects gently, watching Swindle fetch an empty container for him, scrambling to help because he wants him off the ship and far away. Dumping his handful of human things in the small bin, he stares the smaller mech down daring him to protest as he grabs more things for you, especially food. “Tarn, right,” you say and he hesitates, surprised that he likes the sound of his name on your lips, that it does wholly inappropriate things to him. “I really appreciate you taking care of me.” Amused, he slides a servo against your jaw, grabbing the bin in his other hand and turning. Heading back to his own ship without a word. Knowing Swindle will be terrified the whole time that the DJD’s ship will fire on his and he smiles slowly behind his mask. A little fear will be good for the mech.

• Leaning against him as he goes through the airlocks back into his ship, he glances at you, red optics brightening slightly behind his mask. “I appreciate that you didn’t mention the accidental poisonings,” he murmurs and you wince. Though, the unwanted bath and unintentional groping had been worse. “For something so small, you’re surprisingly difficult to keep alive.” Smiling thinly as your jaw works, you inhale. Reminding yourself that you need to stay on his good side. Still need his help. Can’t tell him what you really think of his ‘care.’

• “And I appreciate that you did your best,” you say, expression strained to make him clear his vents with an amused huff. Do you not realize how expressive your little face is? How easily he can read you? “But I really need to go home.” And he rumbles, optics narrowing. ‘We are going home,’ he says, purposefully misunderstanding, because he likes having you around. Doesn’t want to lose your warmth or your affection. You’re his. And now that he can understand you, he has someone to talk to, because the rest of the DJD can be exhausting. “Not your ship, my home. My planet? Earth?” Venting, he uses a servo to tip your chin up.

• “I’m afraid that’s impossible,” he growls, striding through the halls of his ship and you see one of his scary buddies turn to give him a look, because he’s speaking your language. “Your home is here.” Yeah, except it’s not. Emotional support space gerbil to a giant, alien robot isn’t at all appealing to you. But there’s a look in his red optics when his head tips to stare at you that makes your argument die a swift, trembling death when you just want to argue. Remembering when he’d snarled at you and you’d stopped breathing. That he’d done something to you.

Previous

[writeriguess]

Hi love! 🤍 Could you please write Reader wanting to ask out Kirishima, but her being afraid that he likes Mina, but in a random coversation they have he kind of says to her that Mina is important, but he never saw her that way and she finally asks him out? Thank you!

Not the Way I See You

You’ve rehearsed this moment a hundred times.

In the mirror. In the shower. In your dreams.

“Hey, Kirishima, wanna go out sometime?”

“Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to—”

“So, like, hypothetically, if someone liked you…”

All of it. Useless. Because every time you get close, you chicken out. Every. Single. Time.

And it’s all because of her. Mina Ashido. Pink hair, bubbly laugh, sparkles in her eyes when she talks. She’s practically glued to Kirishima’s side half the time. Laughing with him. Teasing him. Sitting too close.

And he never pulls away.

You hate how much it bothers you.

You hate even more how sweet he is to you, like he doesn’t notice you’re quietly self-destructing over something he probably doesn’t even think about.

So when you find yourself walking back from training with him, alone, hearts pounding for very different reasons (his from the workout, yours from sheer panic), you know this is either your moment… or your last chance.

“So,” he says, stretching his arms above his head and grinning at the sunset. “That was a good session, huh? I think Aizawa actually smirked when you landed that last hit.”

You laugh. It’s weak. You feel weak. “I think that was just a twitch.”

“Nah, he was proud. I was proud, too. You’re getting stronger.”

Your stomach does a flip.

“I’ve been trying,” you say, and then because the silence after that feels too loud, you add, “You and Mina make a good team, too.”

You don’t mean for it to sound bitter. It just is.

Kirishima doesn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, me and Mina’ve known each other forever. She’s like…” He trails off for a second, thoughtful. “She’s family, you know?”

You blink. “Family?”

He nods, looking over at you with that easy smile that always makes your chest ache. “Yeah. Mina’s awesome. She’s got my back, and I’ve got hers. But it’s never been like that.”

You try to play dumb. “Like what?”

He gives you a look, like come on, but his voice is gentle. “Like… romantic. She’s not into me like that, and I’ve never seen her that way either. We’re just tight.”

You try to say something, but your mouth goes dry.

He keeps walking, and when you don’t answer, he slows down and glances at you again. “Wait, did you think…?”

You shrug, trying to look casual and failing. “It’s not like it’s any of my business who you like.”

“I mean, I guess,” he says slowly, watching you too closely now, like he’s piecing something together. “But it would’ve been cool if it was your business.”

You freeze. “What does that mean?”

Kirishima stops walking. “You’re not seriously gonna make me say it first, are you?”

“I—” You flail for a second, the words caught behind your teeth. “I thought you liked her. So I didn’t… I didn’t think I had a chance.”

His brows shoot up. “You’ve always had a chance.”

That shuts you up. Your heart slams into your ribs, and you feel every cell in your body light up like fireworks.

“I—Kirishima,” you start, and your voice is so small you almost hate yourself for it. “Do you wanna go out with me sometime?”

His grin is the brightest you’ve ever seen it.

“Hell yes.”

You start to smile, relief flooding through you so fast it nearly makes you dizzy.

He nudges your arm playfully. “Took you long enough.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, laughing despite yourself.

“Seriously, though,” he says, voice softer now. “I’ve wanted you to ask for a while.”

You shake your head, cheeks burning. “Why didn’t you ask me?”

He chuckles. “Guess I was scared, too.”

You blink. “You? Scared?”

“I’m not invincible, you know.” He taps his chest, right over his heart. “Especially not here.”

You don’t say anything for a second. Then, quietly: “Me neither.”

He holds his hand out to you.

You take it.

And for once, you don’t feel afraid.

[novalyn25]

Ateez reaction to their s.o stealing their clothes 

Pairing: Ateez x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, Comedy

Word Count: 2,000 words

Warnings: None, just pure chaotic fluff

Masterlist

Seonghwa

Seonghwa walked into his apartment after a long day of practice, rolling his neck to ease the tension. The living room was dimly lit except for the glow of a K-drama playing on the TV. And there you were, sprawled on the couch in his oversized black hoodie, scrolling through your phone like a queen who owned the place.

His hoodie.

The one he’d been looking for *everywhere* this morning.

"Is there a reason my hoodie has decided to betray me?" His voice was light, teasing, but there was a glint of fake betrayal in his eyes.

You looked up, all doe-eyed innocence. "Your hoodie? You mean *our* hoodie?"

Seonghwa pinched the bridge of his nose, though the smile tugging at his lips gave him away. "It’s not 'ours.' It’s mine. I paid for it. I cherish it. And now I see it has been stolen—"

"Borrowed," you interrupted, holding up a finger like you were making an important point.

He sighed, finally walking over to plop down next to you on the couch. "You look cute in it," he admitted begrudgingly, his hand ruffling your hair.

"I know," you smirked. "That’s why I’m keeping it."

He groaned, falling back against the cushions dramatically. "You are impossible. Fine, but only if you promise to wash it before I get it back."

"Deal," you agreed, though you both knew it was a lie.

Hongjoong

Hongjoong was in his studio, hunched over his desk with his headphones on, when you snuck in behind him wearing *his* favorite denim jacket.

It wasn’t until you leaned against the doorway, clearing your throat, that he noticed. He looked up, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on the jacket.

"Isn’t that mine?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Looks better on me, though, don’t you think?" you teased, doing a little spin to show off.

He blinked a few times, setting his headphones down. "I don’t know whether to be flattered or annoyed. That jacket is vintage."

"And now it’s couture," you quipped, walking over to sit on the armrest of his chair.

He tilted his head, his lips twitching into a smirk. "You’re lucky you look good in it. But if you lose it or ruin it, you’re buying me a new one."

"Relax, Captain," you teased, poking his cheek. "I’ll guard it with my life."

"Mm-hmm," he muttered, pulling you into his lap. "You’re trouble, you know that?"

"And you love it."

He couldn’t argue with that.

Yunho

Yunho was waiting for you outside your shared gym, his tall frame leaning casually against the wall. When you finally walked out, his jaw dropped—not because you were late (though you were) but because you were wearing *his* navy-blue sweatshirt.

The sweatshirt he’d literally worn to the gym two days ago.

"Uh…hello? Is that mine?" he asked, pointing at you like you were a suspect in a crime.

You smirked, swinging your gym bag over your shoulder. "What? This old thing? Nah, I bought it yesterday."

He narrowed his eyes, walking up to you and inspecting the sweatshirt like a detective. "Pretty sure it’s mine. It even smells like my cologne."

"Okay, Sherlock," you teased, brushing past him to head for the car. "Maybe I *borrowed* it."

Yunho quickly fell into step beside you. "You didn’t ask. That’s stealing, babe."

You shrugged. "You don’t seem mad about it."

He sighed, opening the car door for you. "I’m not mad, but you owe me another sweatshirt. That one’s officially yours now."

"Deal," you said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "But don’t be surprised if I ‘borrow’ something else next week."

"You’re unbelievable," he laughed, shaking his head.

Yeosang

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you were both at a cozy little café near your apartment. Yeosang was carefully arranging the pastries on your tray when he glanced up and froze.

You were wearing his beige cardigan.

The cardigan that he distinctly remembered folding and putting in *his* drawer last night.

"Wait," he said, pointing at you. "Is that my cardigan?"

You gave him a sheepish grin, tugging at the sleeves. "Maybe. It’s so soft, though. How could I resist?"

He sighed, his lips curving into a small smile. "You could have asked, you know."

"But then you might have said no," you countered, taking a sip of your iced coffee.

Yeosang rolled his eyes but reached across the table to adjust the cardigan on your shoulder. "At least you’re keeping it warm. It looks good on you."

"Thanks," you beamed, leaning forward. "But don’t get used to it. I’m claiming this as mine now."

"Of course, you are," he said with a soft chuckle, his eyes sparkling.

San

San had been searching the dorm for his white hoodie for hours. He was about to give up when you walked into the kitchen wearing it, paired with your favorite leggings.

"Yah!" he exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at you. "That’s mine!"

You froze mid-bite of your toast, giving him a wide-eyed look. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

"Don’t play innocent," he said, crossing his arms. "That hoodie is *mine.* It even has my initials on the tag!"

"Relax, Choi San," you said, brushing crumbs off your hands. "It’s just a hoodie."

"Just a hoodie?" he gasped dramatically. "That hoodie is my soulmate. Give it back."

"But it smells like you," you said with a pout, tugging at the sleeves. "It’s comforting."

San’s expression softened immediately. "Fine. Keep it," he muttered, pulling you into a quick hug. "But only because you’re cute."

Mingi

The two of you were lounging in the dorm’s living room, watching a movie. Mingi was sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, but his attention was on you rather than the screen.

"Wait a second," he said, squinting at you. "Is that my flannel?"

You glanced down at the oversized shirt you were wearing and shrugged. "Maybe."

He tilted his head, trying to figure out how you’d gotten it. "When did you even—"

"You left it at my place last week," you interrupted, smirking. "Finders keepers."

Mingi groaned, but his pout quickly turned into a smile. "It looks better on you anyway."

"That’s what I thought," you teased, nudging him with your foot.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung burst into the kitchen where you were making breakfast, his hands on his hips.

"Excuse me!" he shouted. "Is that my leather jacket?"

You didn’t even look up. "Good morning to you, too."

"Don’t change the subject!" he said, pointing at you dramatically.

You finally turned around, flipping a pancake onto a plate. "Okay, fine. It’s your jacket. But doesn’t it look cool on me?"

He froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "I mean…yeah. But still! Ask next time!"

You grinned, placing the plate in front of him. "Eat your pancakes and stop complaining."

He grumbled but obeyed, secretly pleased to see you in his clothes.

Jongho

Jongho was in the practice room, cooling down after rehearsals, when you showed up wearing his favorite zip-up jacket.

"You’re here!" he said, grinning as he walked over to you. But then his eyes narrowed. "Wait. Is that mine?"

You nodded, smiling. "It’s comfy."

He sighed, but there was no malice in it. "You’re lucky I don’t mind sharing."

You hugged him, the jacket swallowing you whole. "Thanks, Jongho. You’re the best."

"I know," he said, kissing your forehead.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

know my name, know my face.

megumi is sick and tired of you being so formal. he is silent in his feelings until one day, when something as simple as a little shop and your eagerness about a keychain tips him over.

just a really silly fluffy fic. canon verse. was supposed to be a drabble but I yapped too much so I formatted. megumi yearns and longs and broods and- you get it. a mix between a drabble and a short fic kill me. no beta we die like everyone in the jjkverse. word count of 1046.

masterlist

although he loathe to admit how deeply he is being affected by this whole situation, the truth is that megumi is getting fed up with you.

not you, per se, but the way you seem to view him. he feels more distant to you than the others; you seem more personal with them, more friendly. even though you choose to spend more time with him than anyone else and speak to him more fondly and overall express more affection for him, he feels out of place. when you call upon the other first years, his name rolls off your tongue differently. it leaves your lips akin to that of a stranger.

you see, there is yuji and nobara and then there is fushiguro.

(he recalls the early days of your friendship with the group. your voice had been so sugary, lined with honey as you asked “is it okay if I call you yuji?” and, “you don’t mind nobara, right?” …you had not even asked him. he had looked straight ahead and pretended to feel less invisible.)

it meets his ears and makes him wince internally every time. it is soft and sweet as it always is, but that does not change the facts. you refer to him as a classmate rather than a companion. he wants to grab you by your shoulders and make you repeat the syllables of his first name until it is engraved in your mind and vocals alike — his ears too. maybe, if he were feeling really desperate, he would fall to his knees. however, he does neither. he simply gives a nod and lets the sound ring through him, lets the echo of it beat against his insides and leave welts big enough to have him crumpling to the ground. he greets you back like he is neutral, keeps his knees steady. he calls you by your last name also.

perhaps he is being dramatic. perhaps he is irked by it more than he should be, but he cannot help himself. what is it about him that is so alien? he had always been different from other people, but jeez.

he is silent in his brooding, quiet in his troubled inquiries. they fester in his mind and do not pollute the air. until one day, his mouth betrays him.

your feet have the gravel crunching beneath you as you bound up to him, a smile on your face. the others were not in sight—the three of you had gone off into another part of the shop whilst he lingered in a different isle. you had returned to him alone. it made him feel seen, even as he schooled his expression to indifference.

you hold a keychain out to him. “look, fushiguro! isn’t this cute?”

the warmth in him flickers, fading into a dull ember. he gives a short nod, hoping you would not notice the way the corner of his lips tugged downward. a long, silent exhale leaves his nose, eyes focused a little too intently on the trinket than necessary.

you pause, because you noticed, as you always did. you saw him. but unfortunately, you only saw fushiguro.

“fushiguro?” you questioned tentatively.

that was the final straw; the words escaping him before he could will them away, “why do you do that?”

a pause. the meaning of the cryptic statement is somewhat lost on you, he quickly realized. the tips of his ears heat up as he continues, “speak to everyone so personally except for me. we aren’t strangers, you know.”

tilting your head, your brows furrow, not because you are still confused but because it was so ironic. not one person at jujutsu high called him by his first name save for gojo, who was met with the meanest scowl every single time. you would much rather be left out of his wrath, therefore did not bother pushing him for it. your eyes flicker oddly for a moment and he is left to drown in the silence.

“everyone calls you fushiguro.”

he averts his eyes completely. the tips of his ears are turning pink, but you can only see if you look very closely. “what makes you think you’re just a part of everyone?”

“well, when we met. you stared at me deadpan and introduced yourself with it’s fushiguro, point blank.”

his cheeks warm further. he scowls, both because of your horrible impression of him and because of the recollection. he did do that, but… that was different. that was a long time ago. that was before you had become so close to his heart that you could touch it, feel it beat against your palm and speak his first name in morse code for you. now is now.

“that was different.”

“so… you want me to call you megumi?”

the sound of his first name hits him like a punch to the gut. his heart speeds up, fingers twitching at his sides. finally, he thinks. after multiple months and a bit of mild mortification, you had done it. his soul eases and sinks contently back into his bones. he shrugs, though, despite his entire conscious screaming yes. “do whatever you want. I was just asking.”

you chuckle. he is a bit of a terrible liar when it comes to these things, you have learned. you choose to humour him. “okay. i’ll call you megumi, then.”

he nods. silence falls again, but it is different this time. easy. transparent. it does not settle thickly and add to the weight on his shoulders, instead lifting it, if even a little. then, “I don’t sound like that, by the way.” his voice is a low grumble.

“you totally do, don’t lie.”

“shut up.”

“okay, whatever, megumi.”

despite himself, he smiles. he would let you torment him so long as you eased the sting with the soothing balm that was his name on your lips. hell, you could curse his entire existence and he would forgive you if it was followed by the gentle whisper of megumi against the shell of his ear. it is a scary thought, but he accepts it with surprising ease.

as long as you called out to him like he was a little more than a stranger, he was anything to you. he was yours.

tags: @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniyaa @kashee-h @fiannee @bubybubsters @lizbix @mayyhaps @adoresia @xianji @cinnamxnangel @sickpatientt @megapteraurelia @scoutings @anotherwriternamedclara @spookypeacesandwich @titititititixo @wizzzierr @jadeyaps @whoevenisjessica @nishislcve @rustymind @grndz3r000

[universalzones]

"The fuck does it matter if I speak my mind or tell my story? Even with the whole Phantom Rider crap a lot of people still doubted me. All people will see is G.U.N arresting a criminal that should've been locked up after tearing through a town and hurt people." Surge wasn't even going to mention how easily G.U.N could pump out any number of stories they wanted and still seem believable.

"Yeah, I'm with sparky here. My goal is to call G.U.N out for their crap, though my younger sister wanted me to put in a good word for the spiky electric hero," he said crossing his arms not intimated by Surge's threat. "Ain't the force time I've been threatened and it won't be the last since I'm sure G.U.N will put me on there list of reporters they don't like. Also, I just run online forums. Not legit recording equipment or anything."

Surge squints her eyes at the canine, slowly connecting the dots. "You're related to the squirt I met at the festival after I first sent the Phantom Rider high tailing it out of here. What do you actually get out of this? Cause I ain't buying you're doing this just for your sister," the tenrec said crossing her arms. "And call me sparky again and you'll need your jaw wired shut to heal."

"Hey, I put G.U.N to the fire all the time in my forums, this is just the latest story. Though I guess I don't fully trust G.U.N like everyone else so them having a super weapon like you is something I'd like to bring to people's attention. As long as I get my story out it'll spread. Hopefully large scale station's will start being up G.U.N's case." A simple goal, though one that reached will make G.U.N tread carefully.

===========================================================

Kitsunami looked down at the offered hand with clear distain. "I can keep up on my own." The fennec had made many more modifications to his pack so could go much longer distance's without having to refill it in order not to slow Surge down. Without Starline getting in his way he could made more practical upgrades to his pack and actual improvements. Of course he knew the reason why Starline always prevented him from doing such a thing. He didn't want him to have too much power or start thinking on his own. With that said he dashed off after Sonic.

"Just so you know this doesn't makes us friends. I still don't trust you, even if you didn't intentional mean to lie about Surge not making it." Seems Kitsunami was still holding a bit of a grudge about that incident, even if he was aware that Sonic truly believed Surge didn't make it out alive. Though maybe he was trying to convince himself more than anything else. Trying to reject the kindness that the hedgehog showed him when he was at his lowest point, when he was more concerned about Surge than trying to stop her, and that fact he keeps extending a helping hand rather than wishing to see them locked up.

===========================================================

"Those are fair points, though not just anyone can do what Starline or Shadow's creator did. If so we'd see far more people with those abilities. Speaking as one who such abilities it's rather... complicated. I'm sure you of all people know how complex the power one wields can be fighting such foes of the years and simply seeing Sonic in action. I don't wish to imply I'm down playing your concerns, though it's an amazing feat to create someone with such power abilities." This was just Blaze's honest opinion.

"Though I have no intention of ignoring such logical reasoning and concerns. At this point I believe we must take every piece of information with, how they say, a grain of salt. I hope that is the correct expression." Expressions wasn't the feline's strong suit quite yet. "For now let us just hope that they can't recreate any of Starline's work without all the needed piece's, and do our best to keep those piece's out of their hands." The princess didn't intend to roll over and let them have their way after all.

"Perhaps we should wait until we're at a more secure location. Maybe Miles lab as I can't think of anywhere more secure than that." Belle doubts the entirety of G.U.N could get into his lab if Miles didn't want anyone in, not to mention how secure his network must be. Belle-Bot wasn't connected to any network fully so the risk of it getting hacked into was low, though she still hadn't fully finished the firewall to prevent hacking. She hadn't even given the bot a proper field test though things were intense moments ago.

The sheep seemed to glance to one side as if everything Surge said she mostly agreed with. Or maybe had already been discussed in private. It was very clear what GUN was up to and yet there was almost nothing they could do to stop this. Gun was powerful politically and, though they had come to a tenuous agreement she had a feeling it wouldn't last. How long before they targeted Kit? or maybe they didn't think he was a big enough threat to even bother with?

" That's already been talked about to some degree. But short of an all out war between GUN and Restoration... i'm not sure we could find a peaceful way to stop them. The best solution was handing you over... and none of us like that much either. The best we could do was protect Belle and Kitsunami... "

She clenched her fists and her body language spoke of just how much she hated this. no matter what Surge felt, she very much had grown to feel as if Surge were part of the team. More then that... she was just starting to break that ice and maybe become friends and now this.

" Which is why i think we need to have eyes on both of them... i know Belle is already thinking of running off. I think its best if both of them lay low for awhile till we figure this all out...its just... this still feels like we are losing this battle..."

She fidgeted but snapped her trap shut once she saw the reporter. How did he even get up here and she hoped he didn't hear anything she said. She sighed crossing her arms as he rambled on to probably the worst person on base. Yea if she were Surge she'd jack slap him to! She pinched the bridge of her nose as any good PR was going to help them in the long run.

" Well... he is a Reporter Surge, if you ever wanted to speak your peace to the world... now is the time. But try to keep it PG... and remember anything you say can and WILL be used against you... so choose your words very carefully..."

===============================================

Sonic placed his hands behind his head and watched the Fennec join them though, he seemed ready to split. He sure was pissed wasn't he? Not that he blamed him, truthfully Sonic was on his last nerve with GUN to. Still looked like the kid harbored alot of animosity toward him maybe just left over bits of Starlines fuckery or maybe he was just bitter about this whole situation.

Sonic checked his phone and flicked his thumber across the screen to the map location Surge had given him. He sighed a bit as he hated the idea of leaving Surge right now--- but she was right he made a promise it was time to keep it.

" Yep, she gave me a location and made me promise to take you there--- and i'm a hog of my word! just think of me as a taxi... i'll drop you off and the rest is on you bud... Alright Surge Kitsunami and i are gonzo... stay safe... ok? "

He held a hand out for Kitsunami to take so they could take off. He didn't think it was a good idea to grab the kid without his say so or he could lose an arm! or get bit! either way once Kit grabbed on he disappeared in a flash of motion and crack like thunder! He didn't think it would take him long to reach that location... then he needed to link up with tails and plan there next move.

===============================================

Miles had been sitting and mulling over the situation as it had so man angles to consider. But his eyes shifted to Blaze as she spoke and he seemed to sink further into his thoughts. He couldn't disagree more with her on many fronts. Sonic and His DNA especially was easy enough to come by due to all there extended battles within the city and beyond. Every injury they took and every drop of blood could easily have been collected by GUN over the years--- but far more importantly... they didn't need it as they had something far more potent to use.

" I know i say i'm the smartest mobian alive ... but let's be real here. Before Starline came along none of us would have imagined anyone on his intellectual level. Eggman might have expanded his horizons... but he was already a genius of exceptional levels before that. To imagine that GUN doesn't have someone of that level working for them is foolish--- why go and do any of this if you didn't have the ability to finish your goal. They might be brash but GUN has never been fools..."

He stated in a very calm manner as he swished his tails behind him in a very agitated way. He was clearly upset with this situation and wished like Sonic to pummel gun to dust! But unlike Sonic he understood how awful that would look... they were the good guys after all they had to follow the rules.

" As for Sonic's DNA or mine or any of those who fight Eggman on the regular. We all take our lumps... a drop of blood, a chunk of fur, a lost quill... its very common for that to happen to us. If Thawn is as devious as he appears... he might have enough stored DNA to last him a life time--- but he doesn't even need that. Do you know what he has butt loads of? Black Arms DNA... they gathered up all those bodies all those years ago and even before that they had shadow trapped for YEARS and took who knows how many samples... "

" If GUN's aim is to create some super solider... they have the resources ...question isn't if they can but when... and what there ultimate intent is... i won't sugar coat it Blaze, it's not great... and things could turn very quickly in GUNS favor. Only thing we have going for us is that i had the foresight to lock all of starlines notes in my personal vaults... so even if they wanted to, they would be starting from scratch. so we... have time... if nothing else "

Jewel buzzed her wings landing next to Belle and opted to focus on things she was more willing and able to handle. Fighting GUN felt like a battle for sonic and tails not restoration. Choose your battles Jewel! choose your battles!

" Yes... they helped us on several join ventures. I put all of them in a single file to keep things organized. But also because i never trusted the man... so at the very least we should be able to scour the files and see what he was actually up to. I'm more worried they will try to pin this all on restoration... or worse Eggman will use all of this distraction to strike while we are divided..."

She sighed softly as she stared at Belle

" But one battle at a time Belle... we can start scouring that data and assess the damage he did. I still feel foolish for not realizing what he was up to... in a way... this is all my fault..."

[ahoyimlosingmymind]

something about there being this unspoken understanding in the batfam that Jason really is just one unkind word away from falling apart completely at any given time.

It is not immediately obvious when Jason comes storming into the batcave in a bad mood, or when he takes a shot at one of them that it's a test.

An unfair test, but some weird, oddly understandable one if you step back and consider the myriad of traumas Jason has that have never had the chance to be properly dealt with thanks to the natural isolation of his life. T

here's this moment of epiphany among them when Damian makes some offhanded comment after Jason has left in a rage, where he's like "He's almost as socially inept as I was when I first came from the league."

and Oh.

Because yeah. Jason's hyper competent in combat, and strategy, and he can be clear and easy to talk to when it's about a mission or patrol, but when it's just them-- casual? No gear? No masks and vigilante roles to hide behind, it's like Jason is stumbling through every interaction. If he's not being immediately bitchy, he's awkward and quiet, and looks so out of place. They know Jason is compassionate, and can be soft, because he is with victims and children-- but he can't seem to let himself have any true permanence as Jason Todd.

While it's not an excuse for Jason to be a bitch to test them... the epiphany is: Jason hasn't been in community or relationship with people in years. Maybe ever, if you really think about it. He's doing that thing that the more brash street kids do. The ones who poke and prod at wounds because they're trying to gauge safety.

Because the batfam is Jason's last grasp at having a permanent place where Jason Todd can exist... but it can only happen if he's wanted. The rest of the world thinks he's dead. He can't really be understood by the average civilian.

How else does he prove he's wanted than to give them all the things that would make it easy to leave?

the batfam sees the truth of it though. it’s in the way Jason snaps at them, but flinches at his own tone because it’s so obvious he didn’t mean for it to come out that way. It's not something they noticed before Damian said what he said. And in the past, Tim or Damian would bite back with a psychologically dismantling remark. Because they're all witty, and some of Jason's complexes are just glaring red targets, and well- He's usually the one that provokes! Right? So it's fine? But this time--

Jason says something he shouldn't, and he stares at them wide-eyed and clearly terrified for the response and they all just shrug and move on with things, Tim even huffs out a laugh, and says, "Yeah, okay Jason." And Jason visibly calms down. His whole body seems to untense, and then he very quietly mumbles, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." And it's like you can hear a pin drop.

Then Bruce nods in acknowledgement, and his tone is even when he says, "We know, Chum."

Because not once in his life has he been met with actual neutrality. Not indifference, not rage-- just neutrality that says, "You're not gonna provoke us, or scare us off."

and that makes it easier to breathe amongst them. It makes it easier to trust that they might like the little good he has to offer, if they're not scared of all the ugly.

ugh idk, just something that makes them realize that Jason is in a constant state of emotional panic, and while he's not stupid at all, he's got extremely underdeveloped interpersonal skills, especially familial ones.

as time goes on, there comes a point where Jason says something barbed, it's just him and Dick, and Dick is like, "You know, Damian used to do the same thing when he first came here. He said all the worst things he could think of, and he tried to kill Tim, and he complained about Alfred's cooking, and was always waiting for the other shoe to drop."

and Jason's fucking disarmed because HELLO? And so he's like, "What the fuck does that have to do with anything--"

"He's still here, Jason. And I have every intention of making sure you stay, too. But damn, can we check the attitude at the door, sometimes?"

bc accountability is also >>>

[orphicmeliora]

Secret identity au

You're what people call a walking disaster. You walk into a room, down a street, through a building, hell, even a park bench—anywhere at all—and it's almost guaranteed that someone, somehow, is getting hurt. Maybe a potted plant falls on a passerby. Maybe a toddler accidentally kicks you in the shin with a toy truck. Maybe a scooter mysteriously careens down a ramp and knocks over a vendor's hotdog stand. Either way, pain is usually involved, and statistically speaking, it’s either you or some other poor unfortunate soul caught in your gravitational field of chaos.

The worst part? Most of the time, it’s not even your fault. It’s like the universe itself has you on speed dial for comedic misfortune. Things just happen around you—doors swing open, drinks spill, ceiling tiles fall. Some say you’ve got a black cat’s luck. Others whisper it’s your evol to attract chaos like a lightning rod. Like some sort of cosmic magnet for near-death experiences.

Enter this Lumiere guy who shows up out of nowhere every time you need help. The masked man with a heroic streak and perfect timing. He always seems to be there the second you're dangling from a balcony, caught in a runaway shopping cart, or about to be squashed by a suspiciously fast-moving food delivery drone. He’s graceful, mysterious, and efficient—like if Batman had a Pinterest board full of soft lighting and silk capes. Naturally, you’re halfway in love. Because who doesn’t catch feelings for the guy who literally saves your life every 48 hours? The mask only makes it worse, honestly. What does he look like? Why won’t he take it off? Why does his voice sound like a lullaby dipped in espresso? It's all very stressful.

Anyway, fast forward. You're back from a long shift of not dying (you tripped, a ladder fell, long story), and you’re practically vibrating with excitement over your latest Lumiere sighting. So you do the most obvious thing: call your bestie to fangirl.

You're pacing in the hallway, phone pressed to your ear, animatedly relaying every detail ("I swear, his cape glowed when the sun hit it—no, I'm not exaggerating! And then he caught me—like, full-on princess-style caught me, I thought I was gonna die, but no, he just—ugh, the way he looked down at me, I swear—") when the elevator finally dings and the doors glide open.

That’s when you notice him.

You falter mid-sentence. “Hold on, I think my neighbor wants to murder me with his eyes.”

Xavier doesn’t even blink.

He’s standing a few feet away, waiting to get past you into the hallway, staring like you’ve personally offended his ancestors. As your words trail off, he levels you with the kind of look usually reserved for gum on expensive shoes.

You lower the phone slightly. “Uh…hi?”

Nothing. Just a sharp exhale through the nose and that judgmental, soul-piercing stink eye like you’re the human equivalent of elevator Muzak.

The man is wearing a plain white hoodie and sweatpants like he walked out of a moody fitness ad, and yet he exudes the same intensity as someone plotting world domination—or at the very least, filing a very strongly-worded HOA complaint.

You step aside as he brushes past, muttering something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like “loud.” The nerve.

Okay then.

You resume your call, lowering your voice only slightly. “I don’t know what this guy’s deal is. I’m not that loud. Maybe he’s allergic to joy?” Okay, maybe your voice carries, but you’re excited! You could’ve died! Again! Some people journal. Some people drink. You cope with high-volume storytelling and minor public disturbances.

And you’re just about to get over it when something weird happens. Just for a second, Xavier's hoodie sleeve slips up as he adjusts the grocery bag in his hand.

There’s a flicker of something silver peeking out from under the fabric. Thin, intricate. Almost…mask-like?

Wait.

No.

It can’t be.

Can it?

[diamonddeputy]

Why [DELTARUNE CHAPTER 4 SPOILERS] is an effective villain: a premature analysis

Y’all I’m literally posting this and then disappearing from the Internet for however long to avoid the spoiler brigade. I haven’t even finished Chapter 4 yet, there could be more I don’t even know. I just cannot sleep and am so wracked with autistic mania that I HAVE to get my thoughts in order or I will explode

Character creation and analysis have always been some of my greatest passions. I still have my Ceroba Ketsukane analysis sitting on the backburner, 24 pages and counting, that exists purely for my own enjoyment. Storytelling fundamentals are things I keep in mind for everything I consume, especially in the context of characters. That being said, known character development strategies can be attributed to Carol Holiday, and why she works SO WELL as a villain imo

Back when J.K. Rowling wasn’t a piece of shit, I watched an interesting video commenting on how Voldemort could have been made more effective as a villain. Which essentially compared him to Umbridge who usually provokes more vitriol within the community and pitched the idea of him casting some sort of life-altering spell on Hermione. I can’t remember the exact details, but it was something to the effect of memory alteration or brain function suppression, to take away the one thing that mattered most to her in life, which was her academic success and pursuit of knowledge, which we see her strive so passionately for throughout the whole series. And then the reader would have to watch her slog through life with no sense of purpose, a husk of her former self, and allow that rage to fester. He then tied this back to why Umbridge is remembered (ironically, less) fondly, because the slights she commits are targeted specifically on known flaws and vulnerabilities of the main characters

It’s something that I’ve carried with me since because it really does make sense if you stop and think about it. Being like 13 at the time I initially clicked on that video with more curiosity than anything because I thought he worked pretty effectively. But by the end I was like holy shit yeah that would’ve worked SO much better. And the more I think about it, the more it’s really on full display here

The reveal that Carol is a central antagonist made me feel things, sure, but the thing that REALLY got me was seeing her for the first time, even before we knew just how connected she was. When Susie commented on the temperature seeming to fall when she entered, I FELT that. Because the previous chapters made SUCH a big deal about NEVER letting us see her. She was always cooped up in her office with hordes of cronies blocking any entrances commenting on how busy she is, even when confronted with our teenaged protagonist wishing to report a serious danger that not even the police is taking seriously. Within our centralized view, that paints a cold, scheming picture right off the bat

We were given ample time to create a caricature in our minds, shaping itself to whatever bounds it would allow itself to stretch. This is a common practice seen in comic book theory, with the idea that a scene that takes place in a gutter (the space between panels, or in other words, not shown) is infinitely more shocking, gruesome, terrifying, whatever you want it to be than anything that could be shown. Because it allows the viewer to fill in the blanks for themselves, and the human mind has the tendency to jump to the very worst. So seeing her pale fur, sunken eyes, stony glare, frigid colour palette, just HIT because it reinforced EVERYTHING that had been festering in our minds for the past however long. For me, it’s barely even been a year. I can’t even begin to imagine those who have been holding it for upwards of six

We’re already starting off with a bang, but the fact she’s so mysterious is then just used to make the small things we DO learn about her even MORE effective. Noelle is scared to tell her she’s locked out of the house. She doesn’t keep keys of important documents anywhere but home. Rudy is spending what could be his last moments terrified of what will happen to Noelle after he isn’t there to “balance Carol out”, in his words. Noelle explains the feeling of seeking out things that scare her just so she can feel comforted. Speaking as someone else with a poor emotional relationship with her parents, the portrayal of Carol as such is not only harrowing, but very REAL. It’s severe enough to push all the right buttons, but not SO much so that she becomes harder to take seriously because a sense of immersion is lost. THAT is just as important, and it’s what really sells the effectiveness

The fact she wants to bring calamity upon the world is awful, sure. But that’s not why I hate her. I hate her because she’s a shitty mother. I hate her because Noelle has gone through so much because of her. And most of all, I hate her because of the implication that she’s using Dess to get her way, if I’m not going batshit crazy and Dess is the Roaring Knight like is seeming to be implied. Hell, she may have even staged her disappearance to be rid of her, as we know Dess wanted to leave home as soon as possible and take Noelle with her, and also that she was a contrarian to her mother’s strict beliefs and did things she never would have approved of. The reveal that, in her words, “I am always welcome in her home” would only have ever intrigued me if I didn’t know what I do about her. Perhaps she has more sympathetic motives than are being shown to me presently! But because these careful steps were taken to establish her not only as an antagonist, but as a VILLAIN, I felt pure unadulterated disgust. And the desire to be anywhere else and do anything else and listen to anyone else and never do what she wants me to do ever

What truly makes a good villain is the combination between narrative stakes and personal investment. And, more importantly than that, the effort to make it believably, groundely REAL, as opposed to overly blunt or performative. I’ve hated Carol from literally Chapter 1, assuming that she was gonna be an invisible driving force for Noelle’s character development and not much more, and now I just have a vessel to fuel all that rage into because the careful work behind the curtain is being unveiled masterfully. The fact there’s even more to know upcoming has my head spinning because I’m already reeling from just how much I HATE Carol, and just how GOOD that is for the story

If you’ve somehow survived my word salad the size of Mars, please please please leave tour thoughts or whatever else. I’ll see it when I eventually finish everything

[xylatox]

꒰⋆.˚ 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕱𝖎𝖈𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕸𝖆𝖞 𖹭 .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱

adeline's ✉ 〃〃hello (❁´◡`❁) These were my fav fics of May and they each helped me get through the month in a different way. Unfortunately this month was more stressful for me and I didnt read as much as I wanted to :(. Anyways, please support the authors and their work (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Higher Than Heaven || @vampsol

pairing // choi soobin x fem!reader

synopsis // Soobin, your devoted guardian angel, has one singular purpose in his ethereal existence: to bring your heart's deepest desires to life. Unbeknownst to him, his mere presence fulfills that desire. Yet, the lingering question remains— how can he effectively transform your most intimate dreams into reality?

✉︎ // This was so cute actually. Soobin being so in love with the mc gave me so much life. Im so glad they got the ending they did!

Mama I’m In Love With A Criminal || @heesmiles 

pairing // criminal ! jay x rival family ! kang !  reader 

synopsis // He was a mystery. One you didn't know if you could solve. Hidden behind the shadows of his past and his duty to his family. He was no man for you, no. You needed a good man, a man that could provide and you knew that. So why did you want him so bad? No matter how dangerous, no matter how wrong. 

✉︎ // Immediately know that I wanted to add this to the list of my fav May works. I’m glad Rain is back on her new account so I can not only show my appreciation in words but always share my thoughts on how her words reached me :) 

By The String || @delugyu

pairing // yeonjun x fem!reader

synopsis // Yeonjun’s got a lot on his plate. Not only does he have to worry about being a star student, but he also has to be the city’s web-slinging hero. And a lab intern. And a semi-decent roommate. And a little bit in love with you.

✉︎ // I’ve been wanting to read one of nina’s works for months and I kid you not life was out for me and I just never got to it, but the moment I got this opportunity I took it and god the only thing I regret was not reading any of her works sooner. I absolutely love her writing style and anytime i saw her posts on my feed I kept thinking she’s so cool?? But for real give her work a shot, shes amazing I swear.

A Prince’s Respite || @yunverie

pairing // prince!Yang Jeongin x head pharmacist!afab!reader

synopsis // Lately, Prince Jeongin has been plagued by relentless nightmares and sleepless nights. As the kingdom’s head pharmacist—and his oldest friend—you’ve tried every remedy in your arsenal, but nothing seems to bring him peace. So, you take it upon yourself to craft something entirely new, a cure never attempted before. What begins as a quest to help the boy you’ve always cared for quickly turns into something far more complicated. You only meant to ease his nightmares, but you end up getting more than you bargained for.

✉︎ // Literally love Yun with my entire heart and the fact that she wrote a Jeongin fic based off one of my recent fav shows had me so giddy. I will always geek over her work till the day I die. I will always support her, shes just so sweet; my fellow 02 line friend. She means the world to me.

One In A Million || @dawngyu

pairing // chaebol choi soobin x middle-class florist reader

synopsis // He stares at you, the glisten in his eyes that you've come to know whispers his truth. His shaking hands hold your wrists. Droplets slide from his hair, tracing the sharp angles of his face, mixing with the storm clinging to his skin as he stares at your face. You feel it before you hear it. You see it before he speaks. "Marry me." It's his last attempt to keep you from walking away.

✉︎ // I don’t think my fav fics for the month will be complete without one of Raya’s fic. I am proudly biased and I will wear it on my sleeve with pride. I absolutely loved the first installment of this spinoff and I will seriously always read her work till life makes me unable to, and even then, I will find a way to read it. Love her and her work, seriously.

One Room Over || @izzyy-stuff

pairing // childhood bsf!Choi Soobin x fem!reader

synopsis // In which after looking for an apartment for months you finally find a nice place, but it's too big and expensive for you to live alone in it so you ask her two best friends, hoping they could help you out. 

✉︎ // I will always love Izzy and her writing I swear. I love her shes so sweet and her writing is absolutely amazing guys. This fic had me so giddy and ugh I was on the edge of my seat will simultaneously ripping out my hair at how oblivious the mc was but I love her so bad

A Flower Grown In Moonlight || @heesmiles

pairing // fae prince .ᐟ beomgyu x moonskin .ᐟ reader , fae prince .ᐟ kai x moonskin .ᐟ reader

synopsis // In the twilight hush of the world, there are strange and wondrous things — shimmering beneath the silver moon, curling their fingers through the soft soil of reality. Like flowers that bloom from the skin of a girl with a secret garden in her veins, these marvels are born from the quiet ache of longing and the fierce defiance of wonder.

✉︎ // Another rain fic :) And lemme tell you, this is such a lovely start to a fantasy series I’m genuinely so excited to see this world unravel in front of my eyes and just see how things play out. I’m honestly most interested in the MC, shes so cool to me and I’m more interested in how Beomgyu’s interest in her deepens and how Kai gets himself further involved with her considering their first interaction.

If You’re Out There || @dawngyu

pairing // husband choi beomgyu x wife reader

synopsis // You haven’t spoken in days. You don’t even breathe loud anymore. Not since the night you saw what happens to those who do. The monsters don’t miss. The monsters come for sound like it’s blood in the water. One gasp. One sob. One accidental whisper and it’s over. Not just for you. It’s for the tiny life growing inside you. And if anything happens to you, you know.

It’ll be the death of him, too.

✉︎ // A fic that had my heart so moved, tears in my eyes; it was truly a beautiful piece. I loved every moment of it and the end was even more worth it. If it’s one thing I can safely say reading Raya’s work and interacting with her has made me realize that love isn’t just a feeling, it’s people and I think she’s such a definition of love as a person. Genuinely so sweet.

The Rythmn of Our Hearts || @jensthwa

pairing // law student!yeosang x dancer!afab reader.

synopsis // Yeosang, with his camcorder and his looks from afar, ignites your curiosity in a way that makes you act a little dumb and against your friend’s judgments. When you finally get tired of him not approaching you, you decide that the night is young and life’s too short to not find an answer to your questions. On a dirty rooftop, your newfound friendship with him might just be the most surprising outcome of the whole ordeal. Is it enough to make you stay, though?

✉︎ // I don’t read much Ateez fics anymore but I will always read Cami’s fics, especially from this series. Its soso good and I love seeing the couples from the previous fics making an appearance or mention, it makes me so giddy. But her writing is immaculate and I just love the way she curates relationships :) 

adeline's ending ✉ 〃and these were my fav fics! Mostly happy times with a few tears shed; each getting me through a hard month of May. I hope June is nicer to all of us <3. Again, please always show your love and share your thoughts with the authors, it means alot to them. Till next time! (❁´◡`❁)

[mitsua]

ORANGE BOY

synopsis: about the characters who are acidic but also sweet when loved right (0.78k) a/n: this post is for the characters who don't really know at first how to show their love for their partner, who crave something really deep inside them but do not know what it really is.

he swears he loves you, and he really does, but it's just so difficult to show it he wants to burst way too often.

whenever you grab his face between your delicate hands and look at him with those big doe eyes of yours—he swears he's seen heaven. he doesn't know what to do, so he merely stares back, which you take it as a sign that it doesn't bothers him much, so you stand there, blinking at each other—wherever it is that you are, the living room, an empty room, a crowded space—it just seems as if everyone and everything disappears leaving just you two in there.

whenever you kiss his cheek or forehead unexpectedly, his face will stay redder and warmer for the rest of the day. and you notice, of course you do—he thinks. you might or might not, whatever, you just wanted to show him you love him for the nth time of the day. and he still doesn't know how to correspond to that. so he might retaliate with a weak 'the hell do you think you're doin'?' and remain unmoving, 'cause he wants to save some pride, not throw away your relation by thinking he didn't really like it.

when you hug him, he fights so hard against himself to try and move his suddenly frozen in place arms. he craves your warmth, but he doesn't know how to keep it, to ask for it, to reach you. 'cause as much as he'd like to act as if he is the best in everything and everytime, he feels you're way out of his league just by you're kindness.

when you tell him you love him is when he really gets the angriest at himself, because after everything you've been through, he knows he wants to say it back, he really does. but his sharp tongue keeps him quiet. (something surprising for someone who might always be bickering back). he keeps quiet and he hates it. he wants to confess how much he loves you too, to say he might even love you more than you love him. but he still doesn't know how to say it.

but you understand. you understood since you saw how he behaved with everyone around him when you first met him. you understood since you saw how he began to behave when he was around you—which was way different from what you've ever witnessed. and you love him for that.

you know he is different when he is around you because he tries to be his most true self with you, no stupid barriers imposed by peer pressure nor uncalled for comments everytime you say something that might come out as dumb every now and then.

so when you grab his face, give him unexpected kisses on his cheek or forehead, hug him and tell him you love him, you hope he understands what you mean. because as much as he doesn't know how to reach for your warmth, you want to show him you'll still be there for him for as long as he needs. until he reciprocates, until the day he'll do those things to you by himself, until he says 'i love you too', back.

it isn't until the day your first kiss on the lips happens that you realize he's changed for good.

you didn't ask for it, you didn't exactly initiate it, he didn't show his intentions to do so either.

so to say both of you were caught off guard when he finally did it it's understandable. none of you expected it.

but it felt so damn right he might have thought it was ilegal.

he felt relieved yet thrilled, in place yet so dispersed. it was something he never thought of doing with anyone, yet he thought about days about how much he wanted to kiss you.

when he retreated to look at your face after the kiss, he saw it. he saw the brightness in your eyes get more intense with feelings he still didn't understand fully, but he understood you knew this was his way of reciprocating all your loving from before.

you were both speechless, but your eyes held so much emotions there was no need for words.

as you grabbed his shoulder and his neck with your other hand, a questioning look appeared on his face until he felt your lips on his for a second time.

now that he had started, you didn't want to stop.

because this boys, the ones who have the most difficult behaviour at first, the most bittersweet evil grins of all—are the ones who fall the hardest and turn into the most lovable, cute and confused sweet oranges of all when loved right.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶⊹︶︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

i'm thinking about... katsuki bakugo (bnha), megumi fushiguro (jjk), haruka sakura (wbk), shin asakura (sakamoto days), ciel phantomhive (black butler), gabimaru tsuki (hell's paradise), saiki kusuo (saiki k), inosuke hashibira (demon slayer), hayato kamitani (gakuen babysitters), toru sakuragi (the yakuza's guide to babysitting), kenma kozume (hq!), shouei barou, jingo raichi, seishiro nagi (bllk) and whoever else comes to your mind!

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶⊹︶︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

do you like this kind of characters? let me know your opinions! (๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵) ♡

[munsonsmixtapes]

Electric Touch (1)

virgin!rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

Gareth sets you and Eddie up after a concert and he seems to want nothing to do with you.

cw: Eddie's a dick

Part two coming soon!

Eddie sits in his dressing room, touching up his eyeliner. Gareth told him he invited some girls back to the hotel so he’s trying to look good. He’s nervous and going to sweet it off anyway, but he’s pretty sure women like the messy look. 

Once he’s done, he moves his hair this way and that, running his fingers through it. It’s what he does when he’s anxious and he’s really feeling it now. Even though he’s a rockstar, he’s never actually…had sex. He’s had multiple opportunities, but there’s just something about the whole thing-showing someone his naked body-that scares him. 

He’s been playing it off like he’s a womanizer for years and he doesn’t plan on stopping. He still can’t believe the amount of women who he’s convinced to make it seem like they slept together. He still can’t believe that they’d be willing to do whatever he asked just because he’s Eddie Munson. 

You stand on the other side of the door, your heart racing as it opens, Eddie Munson on the other side. He’s somehow even hotter in person and your mouth goes as you take in his cropped t-shirt that shows off his stomach so nicely. He shoots you that million dollar smile and you swear you’re going to faint. 

You’ve been crushing on him for so long-when they were just performing at The Hideout. You’ve been a fan since the beginning and you just want to tell him how proud you are of him. How proud you are of the band as a whole. You swear you’re going to tear up just thinking about it but try your best to hold back the tears. 

Eddie’s sure that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He shamelessly lets his eyes rake over your body, taking his time checking you out. He stops on your bare legs that he can see so clearly because of your short shorts. God, those thighs. He’s getting hard at the thought of getting to spend the night with you. He totally wouldn’t mind letting you take his virginity even though you’re a perfect stranger. 

“Eddie, this is Crystal,” he refers to the girl whose arms are wrapped around him. It’s clear who he’s taking back to the hotel. “And y/n,” he nods towards you and you put your hand out for him to shake to which Eddie puts his hands in his pocket. As much as he wants to have you, he doesn’t need Gareth helping him. He’s Eddie Munson. He can get his own date, thank you very much. 

“Hi, Eddie,” you smile and it’s so warm and now he feels like a dick. He’s just trying to protect himself. He’s putting up a wall as a test. He’s gotta see if you’re the real deal or just someone who wants to use him. If he’s going to lose his virginity, he wants it to be with someone who actually likes him for who he is. He’s still unsure about you. 

“I’m a huge fan,” you tell him after a beat of silence. “I used to watch you guys at The Hideout all the time.” His eyes light up for a moment but he immediately puts on that cold stare again. He crosses his arms over his chest as if to tell you that he’s not impressed, but you’re still talking, still got on that pretty smile. Yeah, he definitely likes you and doesn’t think he should be allowed to spend any more time with you tonight. He’s been nothing but a dick and no one deserves that-especially not you. 

“Is that supposed to impress me or something?” He asks with a glare and swears he sees tears welling up in your eyes. Oh, he fucked up. “C’mon, let’s go.” He pushes past you and you follow after him, feeling nothing but humiliated. Well, you know what they say about meeting your heroes. You’re hoping that you just caught him on a bad night. Even though he’s showing you exactly who he is, you refuse to believe that the real him. 

The tabloids have always painted out to be a selfish womanizer and you don’t know why you refuse to believe that that’s who he is. You want to believe that this is all just a front and that he’s still the sweet boy from Hawkins that everyone misunderstood. You want to believe that he’s only this way to protect himself from getting hurt. 

You silently follow him to the car, the only sounds that can be heard is the crew packing equipment up and Gareth and his flavor of the night giggling incessantly. You’re so close to just telling them that you’re gonna head home. If this is how the night is going to be, you’re not sure that you want to be here. You don’t need Eddie, you have two perfectly good hands that could pleasure you just fine. 

You really thought this would be the best night of your life-something you think about as you fall asleep every night. You definitely will, but not for the reasons you originally thought. These guys are just like every other. 

The four of you get to the car where Jeff and Grant are already seated. You lean into the vehicle as Eddie makes his way to the backseat and now you’re the last one to get in. Just your luck, there’s no spot and you’re taking it as a sign. You knew this was too good to be true. 

“Oh,” Jeff speaks up. “You can just sit on Eddie’s lap.” He then turns to Eddie with a shit-eating grin that you can’t see. “Right, Eddie?” 

“Uh, sure. Whatever.” You hesitantly climb into the van and head to the backseat.

“Are you sure this is okay?” You whisper and he hates that you’re being so nice. It’s making it really hard to be a dick to you. 

“It’s fine,” he mutters. “Just sit.” You do as he says and he starts to panic as your ass moves back and forth across his crotch as you try to get comfortable. If you feel his cock hardening, you don’t say anything and he’s grateful for that. 

You totally feel it and now your ego is huge. You know he’d fuck anyone, there’s just something about you making him hard despite his obvious dislike. You wonder how much you’re going to have to push in order to get him to admit that he wants you. You’re not blind-you could see that he was checking you out and liked what he saw. 

You smile to yourself as you move just a little more, feeling his cock getting even harder. He groans behind you and you try your best to stifle a laugh. He’s right where you want him-if only you could get him to just admit how badly he wants you. But Eddie doesn’t seem like the type to beg for what he wants. 

He’s definitely the kind of guy who just takes and takes and you feel yourself getting wet just thinking about him telling you what he wants. You’re usually the one to call the shots, but tonight, you’re prepared to make yourself whatever he wants. You just want to please him. 

When you turn to look at him, he can tell that you’re doing it on purpose. You’re playing a game and he has to admit that he likes it. He loves being teased and kind of hopes he can make you snap so you’ll yell at him. There’s just something about making you angry that turns him on and he can’t figure out what it is. 

He hopes that by the night is over, he’ll be able to let his guard down. He wants to show you the real him-which never happens. He doesn’t want to be Eddie Munson tonight, just Eddie. He wants to tell you the truth which he’s never told anyone. He just either makes out with someone or does some foreplay in every city then makes up some excuse to get them to leave. He always thinks he might finally be ready, but he never is.

The car pulls up to the hotel and you all are quick to get out, Eddie especially. He’s planning on locking himself in the bathroom to take care of himself. He really wants you to be the one to do it, but he’d never ask that of you. Not when he’s been so rude to you. He doesn’t think he deserves anything from you tonight. He’s just gonna make something up like he always does then send you on your way. 

You actually think this might be the worst night of your life. You’re in a foreign city with a bunch of strangers, your feet are killing you because of your stupid shoes. And to top it all off, the man you have looked up to for so many years is the kind of guy you imagined he’d make fun of. But you follow Eddie anyway, wondering if you can somehow turn this whole thing around. 

To make matters worse, the two of you are left alone in the lobby to fetch your own elevator. As he stands there, tapping away on his phone, you decide that he’s not worth it. You have nothing but nice to him while he’s treating you like you’re gum on the bottom of his shoe. You don’t know what you ever saw in him. The more you look at him, the more you see the rotten person inside. The more you look at him, the less attractive he becomes. 

“I think I’m just gonna call a cab,” you jerk your thumb over your shoulder, pointing towards the door. Eddie’s head shoots up, panic written all over his face. Oh now he cares? How convenient. He says nothing, but you can tell that he’s regretting the way the night has gone. Good. It’s what he deserves. You’re not gonna let this man walk over you just because you consider him to be one of your heroes. You have so much more respect for yourself than that. 

You turn on your heel and head towards the front doors of the lobby, surprised to hear footsteps behind you. Just when you’re about to turn, you feel his hand wrap around your wrist. He gives it a pull and turns you around to face him. He says nothing, his eyes just bore into yours and you can feel how bad he seems to feel. Well, too bad. Maybe flashing those bambi eyes works on other people, but they’re certainly not gonna work on you.

“Don’t go,” he says and for a second, you think he’s going to cry. And for a second, you almost fall for it, but then remember exactly who you are. You are the kind of woman who lets herself be taken advantage of. If he wants your attention, he’s gotta earn it. 

“Well, you haven’t exactly given me a reason to stay. You’ve been nothing but standoffish and rude to me tonight. And you know what? I looked up to you. I painted you out to be this amazing man, but I guess I was wrong. You’re just a giant loser like all the tabloids say.” 

The words are like a slap to Eddie’s face but he deserves them. He knows that you’re right so he’s not going to argue. If you want to go, he’ll let you.  It’s what he gets for treating you so poorly tonight. 

“I’m so sorry,” is all he says. It’s all he’s got, and this time, he’s actually telling the truth. 

“Look, I’m going out with some friends tomorrow night. Give me your number and I’ll text you the address and you can prove to me that you’re the kind of guy everyone says you are, then maybe I’d be willing to give you a second chance.” You hand him your phone and he types in his name and number before saving it to his contacts. With that, you turn on your heel and head out of the lobby, leaving Eddie to watch you to leave. 

As he turns to the elevator, his phone pings with an address and he can’t help but smile to himself as the elevator opens. Oh, he’s so going to prove how good of a boy he can be.

part two coming soon!