#I just realized you hoped I’m doing okay

[chuulyssa]

there’s glitter on the floor after the party !

teaser it’s your birthday tonight, but do they remember, or care? pair gojo, nanami, geto, toji, sukuna x reader cw angst, just pure torture™, not proofread !

a/n it’s my birthday on 28th wooohoooo ! i wanted to be a sad girl tho *lana intensifies* let’s hope my parents take some notes and NOT do this

GOJO

for someone who liked cakes, sweets and celebrations so much, you didn’t think it would take this long for satoru to realize what day it was. you didn’t want to remind him either; he should remember it on his own, shouldn’t he? moreover, you had hated the look on his face when you reminded him of the anniversary date the two of you had planned together. he had panicked so hard and begun checking his notes and calendars, it was a pathetic sight, honestly.

“what?” his face had fallen immediately.

“don’t you remember?”

“uh, sweets, what exactly am i supposed to remember?” he had said.

he was just busy. but you had agreed upon this when you began dating him. not everyone was the strongest sorcerer in the world, not everyone had the number of things to do that he did.

“no, it’s fine.”

“you sure?” he had asked.

“yeah, it’s nothing, really.”

but you were quite sure he hadn’t forgotten. not this time. because you had checked in on his calendar a week before this, and today was marked rightly “her birthday” with a shit ton of emojis. so what was taking so long? maybe he was planning a surprise party? whatever it was, you didn’t think the prank needed to be dragged on for so long. since he remembered it, he ought to come out and celebrate already. and if he didn’t, well, whatever. you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when you saw that the party he kept was for someone else, some other girl, no

NANAMI

you’d been waiting for hours at this point. and it was nanami, the kento nanami. kento was never late, how could he be? if there was something he always relied on it was his ability to tell the time, whether it was his refusal to work overtime or his arrival on your dates before you.

so where was he now? he had hurried off in the morning before you had gotten a word out.

“i’m terribly sorry, sweetheart, i have to leave early today,” he had planted a quick kiss on your forehead.

“okay, okay,” you had blinked in confusion at his hurry. “where are you going though?”

“i have decided something.”

“decided what?”

he’d sighed cryptically. what was he hiding?

“it’s best if you didn’t know.”

“excuse me?”

he’d shaken his head and just… left? he hadn’t even wished you, not the night before, not the morning after. and just what had he decided? you were hurt, of course you were. where was he going in such a hurry? you had felt he had been growing distant from you for long now. but it did not make the pain of being left alone on your fucking birthday any better. but what could you do either way now? you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when you saw that he had returned to his sorcerer status, and completely abandoned all the plans the two of you had made for your future, no

GETO

he was too in love with his cult to notice, of course he was. suguru dumbass geto. of course it was his cult’s birthday today, who were you even? when he had first told you, to prevent yourself from crashing the fuck out, you had tried to shut up.

“oh.”

“yeah, so are you joining us tonight?” he had asked, as if he was bestowing an honour upon you by inviting you to his stupid party.

“i didn’t know you kept birthdays for your cult, haha,” please get the hint, you had prayed.

“we do, yes. you will join us tonight, hm? i want to take you there as my date.”

“oh, no, no i don’t think i will, actually.”

“huh, why not? you had been looking forward to this day for a long time, hadn’t you?”

yeah, you had. obviously you had. but when you were jumping around two weeks ago talking excitedly about a ‘birthday’, you did not mean it to be his cult’s day. was that too hard to notice? but all was okay, of course. ‘how could you ruin such a long relationship over a forgotten birthday?’ you were sure that’s what the older women of the cult would talk about if they knew. and besides, you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when he had decided to take another woman as his date for the event, showing that you were completely replaceable to him, no

TOJI

he had a mission planned out conveniently at midnight, just when the clock would strike 12 and you’d be a year older. but what could you say? it wasn’t as if it was in his control when someone wanted a person to die or not, he was just the man doing the job.

so you had let it go. one hour, two hours, twelve hours, eighteen hours, where the fuck was he?

“hey, sorry ma,” there was loud cheering from his side of the phone.

“where are you?”

“got this race i wanted to bet on actually—”

“shut up, no seriously, shut the fuck up, toji—”

“what? are you okay?”

“no i’m not, what the fuck—”

there was another cheer of celebration from his side. then silence.

“calm d—”

you hung up. 6pm and he was nowhere. you were sure even if he didn’t pick your call up that time. after this, he would go out drinking with shiu all night long, then come back home drunk and wobbling around, mumbling the tune to ‘happy birthday’ if he realized what day it was, and even then, you thought, you were being too optimistic with that last part. but he was an assassin, and you knew that. didn’t he deserve some happiness in life too? and you, you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when everyone tried to remind him of the day but he was too far gone to know, no

SUKUNA

what did you expect? your chamber to be full of decorations? the dining room to be laid with the most beautiful gifts ever? the corridors to be filled with balloons? though none of that was here, the mere mental image of sukuna blowing up balloons and trying not to pop them with his nails was funny.

funny. everything that could make your mind get off right now was funny. blowing the fire of your candelabrum out, leaving behind just smoke and discomfort. funny. pretending the dinner you had been served for the night was your highly expensive banquet designed just for tonight. funny. acting as if sukuna was right by your side, giggling, as if he didn’t always behave like human traditions meant nothing to him. funny.

“it’s my birthday, you know.”

“birthday? alright. what of it?”

“uh, birthday birthday? shouldn’t you be celebrating it?”

“what is there to celebrate? it is merely a day, no?” he had said it so simply that it made you backtrack.

“yes but—”

“and besides, you are only growing older. it would’ve been remarkable and truly something to celebrate if you had been growing younger by the days,” he chuckled, turning away from you to make his way to the council.

you laughed. funny. he was right though, wasn’t he? you had many other birthdays to celebrate.

not when he knew, he knew and he could not care less, showing his disdain for it too, no

of course, of course you had many other birthdays, many other years yet to come.

but not when it came at the expense of your self-respect, and you had to make a choice between loving and loving yourself, no

[pathologicalreid]

forwards beckon rebound | s.r.

[previously]

in which fate reveals itself to you and Spencer. it's exactly as you feared, you're in love with him.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: blowing smoke FINALE (p4), maeve, kidnapping, russian roulette, imminent death, violence, blood, nondescript case fic, no hea word count: 1.88k a/n: two things 1) i do have an alternate ending to this series 2) fluff this weekend i promise

Brightness seared your retinas when the blindfold finally came off, you felt the sore skin in places where the fabric was too tight over your face. An abstract of indents were left over your skin.

Dots and shadows danced in your vision while you tried to blink them away, forming the shape of someone who oddly resembled Spencer. He was hunched over in a chair in front of you, his neck bent at an uncomfortable angle. Your solace was the steady rising and falling of his chest. Each time he took a breath it eased your own.

“Spence,” you called for him, your throat so swollen that it came out as a hiss. The desperate cry of a rattlesnake hindered by whoever had crushed your windpipe.

Tunnel vision blinded you to anything in the periphery, your eyes scanned Spencer while you acquainted yourself with the binds around your wrists and ankles. He seemed unharmed, save for the obvious unconsciousness. You had no idea who had taken you, but the BAU had no shortage of enemies. The two of you were, by extension, always targets.

Your ears perked up at the first sign of noise in the warehouse, hot air rose to the floor you were on, leaving you sticky and uncomfortable in the humid prison. Glancing over your shoulder, you watched a masked figure waltz through the doorway.

Clocking the gun affixed to their hip, you quickly looked over to Spencer, hoping he would wake up soon. The fabric ties around your wrists dug into your fragile skin as you looked around the room, remembering there was someone else in here with you, someone who had pulled your blindfold off.

Silently, you started putting the pieces together. “Spencer,” you whispered, having half a mind to reach your foot out and try to kick him awake. There was a reason you had been the one blindfolded. Somewhere in your subconscious, you knew where you were. It led to the horrifying realization that this was about you.

His nose wrinkled, and the first sign that he was starting to wake up was interrupted when the masked figure stood behind him, gripping him by his hair and lifting his head.

Your body instinctively tried to jump to its feet in protest, “Hey!” You shouted as your chair creaked from its bolts in the ground, “Let him go.” Cringing, you watched as he dropped Spencer’s head, letting it loll to the side while he woke up.

The two UnSubs walked out of the room, leaving you and Spencer to your own devices. You shushed him slightly while he groaned, your breath hitching when your name slipped past his lips.

“It’s okay,” you told him. “I’m okay, I’m right here,” you assured him, though you weren’t entirely sure how comforting it was knowing you were both bound to chairs.

Spencer didn’t respond. You twisted your wrist within your binds and winced when it pulled in precisely the wrong way. Looking around, you chewed on the inside of your lip and tried to find something to help you, but there was no next step if you couldn’t get your hands free.

He groaned across from you, and you swallowed back a consolation. You studied him, his head tilted so aggressively to the side that you could see the glint of the scar on his neck. The faded mark was invisible to the naked eye, but when it caught in just the right light, you remembered the way you’d succumbed to dread in that hospital in Texas.

You should’ve called it then. You should have thrown in the proverbial towel and committed yourself to him that very night, with that guy bleeding out on the hospital floor and Penelope shouting about her ears popping.

But you’d heard the gunshot, and you’d seen the fear on his face, and at that moment, the only thing you could remember was trying to pick him up from the floor when he tried to crawl over to Maeve’s lifeless body. You remembered the way he cried when the team tried to give him space and you watched him push Diane’s body over so he could finally get a look at his dearly departed.

Even before she became the most beautiful girl in the world, you never trusted yourself with him. Your lack of faith in him pressed upon your shoulders like the weight of the sky. The pendant he had gifted you seared your chest like a brand. The Tree of Life weighed heavy over your heart.

Your romance with Spencer was like a car crash you couldn’t take your eyes off of. He relentlessly rammed his shoulder into the wall you’d constructed between you while you were on the other side reinforcing the bricks. His soft skin had been marred with bruises, and debris was littered across your body.

You should’ve called it then, but besides your sinking feeling that you’d never step up to the pedestal he had placed Maeve on, you knew you’d only have him temporarily. Life was excruciatingly short, and no amount of time would suffice when it came to him

The wall remained standing in the same way that Maeve’s had, refusing to let Spencer in, refusing to let Spencer help. “Spence,” you whispered. “Are you alright?”

Slowly, his eyes lifted to look at you, and you imagined he was witnessing his worst nightmare. Maybe he’d convince himself he was dreaming, damning you to the fate of telling him this was really happening. “You’re bleeding,” he said, voice gruff from lack of use. His brown eyes flashed with fear when they met yours, but it was no longer residual fear from Maeve’s death—it was fear for you. Had it always been fear for you? Was it possible that the terrorized look in his eye that pushed you away from him had always stemmed from his fear of losing you?

Wrinkling your nose, you finally felt it on your upper lip; blood had trickled from your nose down your face. You shook your head once and said, "It’s just my nose.” You watched his face contort as he tried to free himself from his binds.

Birds chirped outside of the windows; the setting sun invaded the blinds that shadowed the otherwise dark room. Lines of tangerine light lit his face while he ascertained your well-being for himself. There was no point in asking if you knew what had happened, and Spencer wasn’t in the habit of wasting time.

You tried using your thumbnail to cut through the twine around your wrists, the broken piece of keratin on your hand was, so far, the best option you’d had. “Did you see anything?” You asked him, trying to use conversation as a distraction from your current predicament.

He only said your name in response, wide eyes looking past you and watching as the man in the ski mask walked back into the room. The revolver that had previously been holstered on his hip was now in his hands. He spun the cylinder as he approached you, and your heart dropped when he raised the gun, pointing it at Spencer.

“No,” your voice was no more than a whisper while Spencer looked up at your abductor. He met his gaze and refused to flinch, even when he pulled the trigger. Someone who had never met Spencer would think he was entirely stone-faced in the face of a weapon, but you watched the light in his eyes shift and his Adam’s apple bob.

When he pulled the trigger and nothing happened, your chest tightened, but everything about Spencer’s demeanor changed when the gun was turned on you. The barrel pressed to your temple, you shook your head when the shouting started, “Stop!” You closed your eyes, two silent tears streaking your face as the cold metal pressed against your skin. “Let her go,” Spencer urged. “You don’t need both of us.”

The bargaining started, and memories flashed behind your eyelids. Her for me. Let me take her place.

Spencer called your name when the trigger was pulled again, and the weapon clicked without expelling a bullet.

“Where is she?” Your abductor asked, his voice ringing out in an unfamiliar accent, referring to a mystery woman.

You shook your head once when the weapon was removed from your temple, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Part of you wished you were just egging on a suspect, but you felt entirely powerless while you looked at Spencer, confused.

His clenched fist made contact with your cheek, eliciting a shout from Spencer while your head twisted to the side. “Don’t lie to me! I know she called you.”

The gun rose again, “Please,” you cried as the barrel met Spencer’s forehead. “We can help you if you tell us what’s going on,” you assured the unnamed man.

Flinching, you watched the revolver click again, now halfway through the six cartridges. You were left with three more chances and, presumably, one bullet. “Killing one of us isn’t going to get us to help you,” Spencer tried to reason with him, but if there was one thing you knew, it’s that you can’t change a mind that’s been made up.

He scoffed, lifting the gun to your head, and you felt the blood drain from your face in anticipation. Every part of you ran cold as the gun met your temple, “Spencer, close your eyes.”

You continued digging at your restraints, jumping slightly when the gun clicked again. The mechanical sound of the trigger rang in your ears, echoing endlessly when you looked back at Spencer. You swallowed back an I love you, not wanting to succumb to the cliché while you met Spencer’s eyes again. A piece of you hoped the look in your eyes said everything you needed, noises came from elsewhere in the building, and you wished it was a savior.

With the revolver up at his temple, he nodded reassuringly at you, “I know.”

“Please let him go,” you begged, your voice catching over your tears. “If this is about me, you have to let him go,” you promised.

When the trigger was pulled again with no consequences, your heart dropped. The blood-pumping organ fell through your entire body, and you looked up at Spencer, unable to hide the terror in your eyes.

You shook your head as the gun was pressed against your temple, “Spencer, don’t watch.” You faced down your own death, trying to ignore the way your hands trembled as you tugged at your binds in a last-minute escape attempt. “You don’t need to see this,” you didn’t add again, but the thought crossed your mind while you thought of the necklace that sat over your heart.

“I have to see you through,” Spencer insisted, silver lining his eyes while he furiously pulled at his own restraints.

Your chest rose and fell in desperate, shaking breaths. You couldn’t do it; you couldn’t meet his eyes with a revolver pressed to your skull. You should’ve done it. You should’ve called it then, but that was how life worked. Things were already clearest when they were in the rearview window. There was nothing for you to do.

All Spencer could do was watch as he pulled the trigger, and the cycle repeated.

"History repeats itself, but in such cunning disguise that we never detect the resemblance until the damage is done." - Sydney J. Harris

[ryebread0605]

Hii! Hope you're doing great.

Can you do dorm leaders of twisted wonderland with a mute or blind reader? ( male reader)

It's okay if not and thanks! (✿❛◡❛)

This is a very fun one to do cuz I love to see disability rep in fanfics (especially as a disabled person!) I hope you don’t mind that I did deaf and blind!

Riddle: 

he just thinks you’re ignoring him at first when he yells at you to go to specific areas you don’t know, which leads to many instances of the collar being put on you 

He gets curious when he sees deuce leading you around everywhere 

Started to get suspicious when he found out you do all your essays and readings through the computer

Yeah he’s not the type to figure out you are blind on his own

Finally comes to a head as you’re painting the roses, he comes behind you and goes “NO THOSE ARE BLUE NOT RED! WHAT, ARE YOU BLIND OR SOMETHING?” 

Awkward silence begins and it finally clicks 

Poor boy is apologetic beyond belief and will do anything in his power to make up for it

Goes out of his way to make sure every single corner in the heartslabyul form has a cushion against it so you won’t hurt yourself 

“I’m so sorry (name) I promise I didn’t know. Please, if there’s any way we can accommodate you more, let myself or Trey know!”

Leona:

at first, he sees you as weak, an easy target

Until he tries to sneak up on you and get an elbow straight to the gut

He can tell right away that you don’t let being blind hold you back and DAMN does he respect it

Jack is given the duty of being your eyes, seeing as you have numeral classes together and are both freshmen

He adds a detail to spelldrive so you can play, making it so the disc beeps when it’s close to you so you can catch it 

He will never admit that his instincts are telling him to take the small weak cub under his wing

“Look, in this dorm it’s survival of the fittest. If you’ve spent this long at NRC without being taken out by a dumbass, you got what it takes to be part of the dorm”

Azul:

because of the Sea Witch stories, it became mandatory for all merfolk to learn some version of sign language

He can easily spot you are deaf and tries to strike up a deal first, only he mixes it up in his mind and signs ‘date’ instead 

Both of you are blushing messes but why not? 

You help to properly teach him and the tweels proper sign language and in return you now have 3 powerful and influential men there to protect you at any time 

“I must ask, do you think it would be a fruitful venture to hold a paid for sign language class? Of course the proceeds would go to a charity! That charity being getting you those hearing aids you’ve been wanting”

Kalim:

Is very confused as you don’t seem to hear him at all, making him practically yell

Jamil has to be the one to tell him that you could just be deaf

This mans is FLUENT in sign and will have the best gossip to tell you that only you two can hear 

Jamil is happy cuz it keeps him out of trouble and keeps the dorm quiet

Until Kalim realizes he can raise the music so you can feel the bass 

“Isn’t this awesome! I knew you’d love this song! Everyone deserves the chance to party in Scarabia!”

Vil:

he has worked with plenty of people so it’s no surprise he knows how to sign 

During the SDC, he makes sure you have a seat closest to the speakers so you can feel the vibrations the best 

Offers several times to make you a hearing potion but accepts that it is a part of you that you wish to keep 

ASL is now mandatory to learn in the Pomefiore dorm (with permission from Crowley who sees this as an opportunity to show how inclusive his school is)

“(Name) how does this seat work for you? Is it close enough to the speaker? Or would you rather have an interpreter? Just let me know potato”

Idia:

it makes him feel so relaxed to know you can’t see him

You enjoy video games AND you can’t clock his looks? Hell yes

He’s ringing up STYX right away to sent a Cerberus unit as a guide dog for you 

If you are up to it, he would love to make cyber eyes for you to give you sight back

Gets super excited hanging out with you and lets himself be himself because in his eyes you can’t see him so you don’t judge him 

“-and yeah! He should be all set up for your fingerprint id! If any problems happen, like normies trying to get in your way, he has an op defense mode”

Malleus:

by FAR the most protective of you

Since you can’t see, he worries others will take advantage of that and he is NOT having that

He is your person guard dragon and will follow you around everywhere  

Has set up his nest in Diasomnia (because I like the idea that he keeps dragon instincts like nesting and hoarding) to include a tactile pathway to both the bathroom and door so you have more sense of freedom

If he can’t guard you, Lilia will. Lilia is a lot more ferocious in his guarding as he had blind soldiers when he was a general

“Child of man, if you need anything, money is no problem. I could get you set up with working eyes if you would like. But if you prefer how you are, that’s alright too”

[ktownshizzle]

Nerd & Nerdier | Chapter 3

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader, Jeon Wonwoo x reader; endgame? x reader ✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Attempt At Comedy, Roommates au, Love triangle

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Moving in with two introverts should have been easy. Not when it’s Min Yoongi and Jeon Wonwoo, who decide they both want you. Unhinged, awkward, and nerdy as hell, they proceed to compete for your attention in the most unnecessarily dramatic fashion that culminates into a… rap battle.

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Wildly gratuitous, You might 100% chance you’ll fall in love with both of them so that’s a problem, no mxm dynamics to be expected

✎ ˎˊ˗Chapter Warnings: reader felt violated while in the club, both men are down so bad

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 1.8k ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: February 26, 2025

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Everyday I continue to find My People who understand the obsession with this cat and this ghost in a deep, cellular, molecular level. So here we go… Thank you Cathy Jae <3

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Ch 1 | Ch 2

Roommate Rule #3: If Your Bickering Roommates Start Acting Strangely in Sync, Something is Most Definitely Up.

After that night, a weird calm settles over the apartment.

No more rap battles. No passive-aggressive co-op games. No intense staring contests over meals.

It should feel normal, better even? But it doesn’t.

Plus, now, whenever you’re home, they’re both there. Always. Kinda hovering.

It’s never just Yoongi in the kitchen, grumbling about how you keep putting the spices in the wrong order. It’s never just Wonwoo on the couch, lost in a book but somehow still aware of everything you do.

It’s both of them.

At first, you chalk it up to coincidence. Maybe their schedules just aligned, or maybe you’re overthinking things. But then a whole week passes, and you realize—no, this is intentional.

And you have no idea what to make of it.

At work, a colleague from another department—Hyunjae—strikes up a conversation by the coffee machine. He’s nice, seems harmless, and when he asks you out to dinner, you say yes.

Because why not?

You don’t have a boyfriend. Your weird roommates haven’t exactly made anything explicit. And maybe—maybe—this is exactly what you need to clear your head.

That night, when you tell Yoongi and Wonwoo about the date, their reactions are... expected?

They don’t react that much. They don’t even comment on how you're looking hella cute with your lilac dress and heels. Stoic, as per usual.

Yoongi leans back in his chair, nodding once. "Have fun."

Wonwoo barely looks up from his phone. "Yeah. Hope it goes well."

But their voices are just a little too flat. Their movements a little too controlled.

As you do a final check on the contents of your bag (card, keys, mint, lip tint), Wonwoo casually mentions that he’s streaming tonight—his gaming channel has been blowing up lately and Yoongi tells you to call him if anything happens. Guess that’s that.

It’s fine. Everything is fine.

Except it’s not. Because the date was bad.

Dinner was okay, but when you went to the bar next door, the guy got pushy once the drinks started flowing. A hand on your waist that lingered too long. Fingers grazed your thigh like he had a right to.

You felt off. Uncomfortable. A little violated.

You told him off and walked away.

You lock yourself in the ladies bath room. Fuck. You stare at your phone. There’s only one voice you hear in your head as you stroll through your contact list. You just hope he answers.

Of course he does, on the second ring.

“Yoongi? Can you, umm, can you pick me up?”

"Where are you?" Yoongi asks, voice a little sharp. “Are you okay?”

You tell him the club’s name, and you barely get through the sentence of telling him you’re hidden away because you don’t want to be with your date anymore, before he says, "Stay where you are. I’m coming."

Fifteen minutes later, he’s here and the rush of relief mixes with the cool air as you exit the bathroom stall you've taken residence in.

You see him before he sees you. Black button down, dark jeans, and fire in his eyes, but when they land on you, something in his expression shifts—softens just slightly.

He’s at your side in an instant.

"You good?" 

You nod, but your throat feels tight. 

He exhales sharply, jaw clenched. "Where is he?"

You shake your head. "Probably gone. It’s fine."

It’s not fine, but you don’t want him to cause a scene.

Yoongi doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push even as you see him tensely run his fingers through his hair. Instead, his other hand find yours, wrapping around your wrist—not pulling, not rushing. Just there.

And then, without thinking, you step into him.

You don’t know why. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s just Yoongi. The way his presence alone has made you feel safe after a night of shaky thoughts.

Suddenly, the music around you fades. And all you feel is him. Warm, steady, strong.

His arms come up instinctively, one wrapping around your back, the other resting against the nape of your neck. You’ve never done this before, but somehow it feels like you have.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to when you feel his heart hammering inside his chest to mirror your own.

You breathe him in—a faint trace of cologne you're now so familiar with, something distinctly Yoongi—and you don’t know what to do with the way your heart twists inside your chest.

When you finally pull back, Yoongi searches your face. "Let’s go home."

You nod, letting him lead you out, your hand clasped in his.

You don’t sleep that night.

Not because of the date, not because of the club, but because of the voices in the kitchen.

You hear them some minutes after you turn off your bedroom light.

Hushed but heated.

You don’t want to eavesdrop, but you don’t exactly want to interrupt either. So you press your ear to the door and listen.

"You should have called me." Wonwoo’s voice is sharper than usual.

"She called me." Yoongi’s tone is steady but defensive.

"That’s not the point, hyung."

A pause.

"Then what is the point?"

Wonwoo exhales harshly. "You can't pull shit like this."

"Like what?"

"Like running to her first."

“You were streaming, when she called. You think I'd wait for you? She was crying…”

Your breath catches.

Silence stretches between them, heavy and suffocating.

Then, quieter: "It’s not fair."

Something in Wonwoo’s voice makes your chest ache.

You don’t know what possesses you to move, but suddenly, your feet are carrying you toward the kitchen. Before you can think twice, you push the door open.

They both turn at the same time.

Yoongi leans against the counter, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. Wonwoo stands stiffly near the sink, his jaw tight.

You take a breath, steadying yourself. "What the hell is going on?"

Neither of them speak.

You cross your arms. "I’m serious. You two have been acting weird for weeks. First, you’re constantly competing, then suddenly, you’re always together like some weird tag-team act. And now you’re fighting over who picks me up when I call for help?"

Still, silence. 

You swallow hard, but you’re unable to stop the nagging question in your head. "I need to know. Is this… Am I like a bet or something?”

“NO!” both men bellow.

You exhale a shaky breath. “Then what’s the deal?"

Silence. Again.

Yoongi and Wonwoo are both staring at you, like they’re waiting for you to say something. But instead, you exhale and lean back, crossing your arms.

“You know what?” you say, voice steady. “I think you two need to figure out if you actually…” Fuck you’ll say it if they can’t. “…like me… or if you just like competing with each other.”

That hits.

You let the silence stretch. Let them sit with it.

Because this whole thing—this weird, passive-aggressive, emotionally constipated mess—has never really been about you. Not the way it should be.

“I like both of you,” you continue, watching them carefully. “And maybe that’s selfish. But I don’t want to pick between two people who haven’t even stopped to ask themselves if what they feel is about me or just… winning.”

Yoongi looks away first. Wonwoo’s fingers twitch against his knee.

“So,” you say, standing up. “Figure it out. And let me know in the morning or… I’ll just move out.”

And with that, you leave them stewing.

Morning comes too fast.

When you step into the kitchen, you immediately pause.

Because—

What the fuck.

Yoongi is leaning against the counter, one hand tucked into the pocket of his sweats, wearing an offhandedly sexy fitted black t-shirt like he didn’t just wake up ten minutes ago. His hair is still a little messy, but in a good way—in the kind of way that makes you wonder what he looked like rolling out of bed.

And Wonwoo?

Wonwoo is sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone, looking like a fucking editorial ad in his oversized crewneck and glasses. The morning light is doing too much for him, highlighting his sharp jaw and the way his fingers tap absentmindedly against the table.

They both glance up when you walk in.

And they both smile.

Oh, hell no.

“Absolutely not,” you say immediately, pointing at them. “You do not get to look this good this early in the morning.”

Yoongi chuckles, taking a sip of his coffee. “Didn’t realize there were rules about that.”

“There are now,” you mutter.

Wonwoo grins, “You look cute when you’re grumpy, noona.”

You shake your head, unable to keep your cheeks from flushing despite being slightly annoyed with both of them, still.

Yoongi gestures vaguely. "You were right last night. About us. About this."

Wonwoo leans forward, fingers interlocked. "We both like you, noona. We won’t deny it."

Yoongi sets his cup down. “So we have an offer.”

You raise a brow, leaning against the counter. “Oh?”

Wonwoo tilts his head slightly, watching your reaction. “We’re going to take you on dates.”

You blink. “…What?”

“Dates,” Yoongi repeats. “One with me. One with him. Or more. Up to you…”

You stare at them. “And then?”

“And then,” Wonwoo continues, “you can decide.”

You narrow your eyes. “You two came up with this plan together?”

Yoongi shrugs.

You cross your arms. “And what if I don’t want to go on these dates?”

Yoongi answers: “Then we drop it. No pressure.”

"And if I don’t choose either of you?"

Wonwoo sighs. "Then we take the L."

…Huh. You hadn’t expected this.

You had expected stubbornness. Maybe even another argument.

Yoongi tilts his head as your eyes dart between the two of them.. "But let’s be real. That’s not happening."

"Yah!" You gape at him. "Are you fuckin’ serious right now?"

Yoongi grins. Wonwoo just waits.

You exhale, tapping your fingers against the counter. “Bet.”

Yoongi lifts a brow. Wonwoo licks his lips, now smiling.

“Alright,” you confirm. “Show me what you got.”

And judging by the looks on their faces, you have a feeling they plan to.

A/N: To be in the middle of this love triangle is my most fervent dream, hope you enjoyed reading this! xo

QUESTIONS!!! Who should get their date first? Where should they go? Also, do you kiss on the first date? ;)

Permanent Taglist:

@wonh0oe @hyukaluve @glossdebut @kiki-zb @kookiewithluv

@agustblog @maryhopemei @perfectiondazesworld @kimsaerom @kam9404

@00-sleepdontweep-00 @tea4sykes @mggv97 @marnz1990

@whydoeyecare @pastelmin @tarahardcore @minjenna @chimmchimmm

@aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @tinytan-gerine @vesperbells @butterymin

@eve1633455 @baechugff @lilkittenjenjen @wobblewobble822 @coffeedepressionsoup

@futuristicenemychaos @jadestonedaeho7 @granataepfelchen @whoa-jo @annyeongbitch7

@chimmisbae @sexytholland @idkjustlovingbts @kpophosblog @tinyelfperson

@yoongicatagenda @codeinebelle @parapiop7 @diame93 @janeelizabeth1216

@withmuchluv-tannie @abadiimm @angellekookie

Divider by: @cafekitsune (thank you!)

[sirenontheloose]

idk if you do requests but IF you do, could you do something comfort related with Daniela. Like have Dani be upset or hurt and the reader is comforting her. Sorry if this isnt very specific

a/n - Yes, I do take requests! I forgot to let y'all know, LOL. Thanks for requesting, anon! I hope you like this one :)

COMFORT

"Yet another rejection." Dani sighed to herself, tossing her smartphone onto the couch before making her way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

She knew from the start that being in the entertainment industry wouldn’t be easy, especially when it came to having a say in the group’s creative direction. It wasn’t just her ideas. The other girls’ suggestions had been shut down too. But with their hectic schedule, this rejection cut deeper than usual.

She needed Y/N. But her girlfriend was still in an online group discussion in their bedroom, and Dani hated the thought of disturbing her. So she decided to wait in the living room, letting the TV play in the background.

As if on cue, the negative thoughts crept in, and the sounds from the TV faded into nothing but static.

"Was it worth it? The long years of training?"

Dani was drained, mentally and physically, in ways she couldn’t even put into words. The exhaustion clung to her bones, heavy and suffocating, as her thoughts spiraled, each one darker than the last, dragging her into a place she hated. A place where doubt whispered cruel things in her ear.

"What if this is all for nothing?" she murmured to herself, voice barely above a whisper.

She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as if pain could ground her. It didn’t. The lump in her throat only grew, thick and unbearable, threatening to choke her.

"This is so stupid," she muttered, shaking her head as she wiped her damp eyes. She was supposed to be resting, breathing, existing without the weight of expectations crushing her. But instead, she was sitting there, curled up under the dim glow of the TV, blinking away tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

She needed you. Her body ached for your presence, for the warmth of your arms around her, for the quiet reassurance only you could give. But you were still working, still behind that closed bedroom door, too far away even though you were just a few steps from her. She pressed a hand to her chest, hoping to steady the tremble in her breath. It didn’t work. Her safe place wasn’t here. Not in this silence. Not in this loneliness. It was you. You’re her safe place.

Before she even realized what was happening, she was pulled into a familiar embrace. Strong, warm, grounding. That was all it took for her to break. Her shoulders shook as she clung to you, trying to hold herself together.

"Why are you crying?" you asked softly, voice filled with concern as you ran your fingers through her hair.

"I don’t know," she admitted, her voice cracking as she let out a shaky breath. "I just... I feel like everything I do is pointless."

You held her tighter, resting your chin on top of her head. "That’s not true. You’re incredible, Dani."

She let out a bitter laugh. "Then why does it feel like I’m not good enough? Why do I keep trying if no one even cares?"

"I care," you whispered.

For a moment, she said nothing. Then, her grip on you tightened.

"I hate feeling like this," she choked out.

"I know," you murmured, rubbing slow circles on her back. "But you're not alone, okay? I'm here. Always."

You sat there with her in silence, not rushing her, not saying anything more. Just being there. Holding her close to you.

This didn’t happen often, but Dani had her moments, moments when the doubts got too loud, when the exhaustion won. And this was one of them.

[asterafroditis]

Hello!

I’d like to request the octrio with an asexual reader. I’m not too picky, so whatever you see fit! Although preferably more on the romantic side please! (I don’t want reader to get rejected ghgjgk)

I get this may be a bit of an awkward ask, so please don’t feel pressured to do it! ❤️

𐔌 . ⋮ love beyond touch .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Azul, Jade, & Floyd x asexual gn! reader (separate)

𓏵 726 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns used, fluff

I'm actually aroace-spec so this wasn't awkward at all! I hope this exactly caters to your request! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

Azul would approach a relationship with careful consideration, analyzing every aspect like a well-prepared contract. When he realizes you’re asexual, his first instinct is to research—discreetly, of course. He’s not about to ask outright and risk looking ignorant. Instead, he gathers knowledge, ensuring he understands what it means and how to navigate your relationship in a way that makes you comfortable.

He might initially worry that he can’t provide what you need, but once you reassure him that your feelings for him aren’t contingent on anything physical, he exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He shifts his focus to what he does best: crafting moments of intimacy through words, gestures, and acts of service. Azul is a firm believer that affection can be expressed in a thousand different ways, and he’s eager to explore every single one.

Romance with Azul means private dinners in his VIP room, soft words whispered over candlelight, and tender reassurances when his insecurities creep in. He thrives on quality time, and the simple act of sharing drinks while discussing your day becomes a cherished ritual. He may not always say it outright, but his actions speak volumes—whether it’s remembering your favorite dessert or slipping a handwritten note into your books.

"There are… many ways to express devotion, wouldn’t you agree? Physicality isn’t the sole measure of affection. I would be a fool to let something so trivial stand in the way of what we have."

─────────────────────────

Jade approaches your relationship much like he tends to his terrariums—patiently, attentively, and with great care. When you reveal that you’re asexual, he listens with quiet intrigue, nodding along as he absorbs your words. Jade is nothing if not adaptable, and the concept of romance without a focus on physicality doesn’t faze him in the slightest.

If anything, he finds it fascinating—one more layer to peel back and study. He never makes you feel like a puzzle to be solved, though. Instead, he takes your preferences into account and seamlessly adjusts, treating your boundaries with the same respect and consideration he gives to everything else. Affection with Jade manifests in quiet but meaningful ways: the way he subtly leans closer when you speak, how he shields you from the rain without a word, the lingering touch of his fingers when he hands you something.

Jade enjoys the thrill of deep conversations, and if romance is to be built on something other than physicality, then he will ensure it is rich in emotional depth. He asks thought-provoking questions, weaving discussions that leave you contemplating long after the conversation ends. If you ever feel insecure about what you can or can’t offer, he tilts his head and chuckles, his mismatched eyes twinkling.

"My, my, such concerns are unnecessary. If anything, I find it quite refreshing. Love, after all, is not bound by a single definition. Shall we discover what ours looks like together?"

─────────────────────────

Floyd has never been one to care much for rules or expectations, so when you tell him you’re asexual, he blinks once, twice, and then shrugs. “Okay! So?” It’s not that he doesn’t understand—it’s just that, to him, it doesn’t change anything. He likes you. That’s it. Simple.

He doesn’t treat you any differently, nor does he make a big deal about it. If you ever express worries about whether he’ll lose interest, Floyd pouts and dramatically flops over you like a beached eel. “You really think I’m that shallow? Sheesh, shrimpy! That hurts my feelings!” He’s an affectionate person by nature, but he’s also flexible—literally and figuratively. If you’re comfortable with certain kinds of affection, he’s all for it. If not, he simply finds new ways to show his love.

He thrives on shared experiences and quality time. Late-night walks, arcade dates, reckless adventures—he wants to make memories with you, not just go through the motions of what people say romance should be. He’s unpredictable, but one thing remains constant: his unwavering devotion.

"D’aww, don’t stress ‘bout stuff like that, shrimpy. You’re mine, I’m yours—that’s all that matters, yeah? Hehehe, now c’mon, let’s go do somethin’ fun! I’m bored!"

[s4nniebe4r]

the roommate

part one: the lease

pairing: roommate! san x fem! reader

synopsis: a mutual friend suggests you and choi san, of all people live together

wc: 1.2k

tags: slow burn, roommates, enemies to lovers, angst, forced proximity, eventual romance

etc: this fic is brought to life in a conversation i had with a close friend lol. this fic is going to span a few chapters, so be aware of that… no regular updates, but hopefully i can get them out fairly soon. as always, this isn’t proofread!

next part

The second Seonghwa brought it up, you both shut it down. 

“You two should room together.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “Absolutely not.”

He, on the other hand, doesn’t even look up from his phone. “Yea, no thanks.”

Seonghwa blinks at you both, clearly confused by the immediate and mutual rejection. “Okay, well you didn’t have to say it like that.”

It’s not that the idea in itself is inherently terrible—logistically, it makes sense. Seonghwa knows you’re both struggling to get to the final place before the semester starts, and the rental market is a nightmare. But the problem is that Choi San is insufferable. 

Your first impression of him had been nothing short of hellish. Maybe it was the way he barely spared you a glance, as if you weren’t worth more than a second of his time. Or the way that he was just a little too blunt, like he couldn’t be bothered to soften his words for the sake of basic social norms. Or maybe it was how, in that first conversation, he had looked at you—sharp, and knowing, as if he had already decided you weren’t worth the effort. Whatever it was, it grated on your nerves immediately. And judging by the way San hadn’t exactly extended the welcome mat either, the feeling was mutual. 

The first conversation still lingers in your mind. You had met at some house party Seonghwa dragged you to, already regretting your decision the moment you stepped inside. San had been standing near the drinks, eyes scanning the room like he had a better place to be. You had barely introduced yourself before he cocked his head, and asked, “You always act this strange, or just tonight?”

It was meant to be a joke. Maybe. But it sent your irritation through the roof. “Wow. Charming.”

San has just smirked, sipping his drink. “Didn’t say I was. Just curious.” With that he strolled away, but not before you could hear him mutter the words what a weirdo under his breath. 

And that was the beginning of your mutual distaste. 

So no, you are not going to be his roommate. 

A month ago, you would have laughed at the idea of living with San. Back then, you had standards. Preferences. Hopes. A list of potential roommates who weren’t actively infuriating. But as time passed and each option fell through—rents too high, locations too inconvenient, roommates too unreliable—you started to realize that standards were a luxury you couldn’t afford anymore. 

It has become a pattern: refreshing apartment listings every morning, scrolling through rental groups, sending out hopeful messages only to be met with astronomical prices or ghosting. At first, you were picky. Then you were just desperate. 

Seonghwa had been the first to suggest it, of course. More than once. And you ignored him every time, even when the options were thinning, even when you knew you were starting to run out of time. But after yet another overpriced studio slipped through your fingers once more, you made the mistake of asking, “So… has he found a place yet?”

Seonghwa, always the opportunist, grinned through the phone. “Oh? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

You grimaced. “Just answer the question.”

“No, he hasn’t. And you should talk to him before he does.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Why do you care so much?”

You could hear him take a quick sip of his coffee. “Because you two are both stubborn brats who need a place to live, and I’m tired of watching you struggle out of sheer pride.”

You wanted to argue, but… he wasn’t wrong. The idea still made you cringe though. Living with San? The same San who once told you to just get over it when you complained about a professor’s impossible grading during a group hangout. The same San who somehow always knew exactly what buttons to push and how without even much of a thought. 

Still, the reality of your situation was pressing down on you. 

You really, really didn’t want to. But practicality won out over pride, and that was how you now found yourself sending an excruciatingly awkward text. You wondered if it sounded desperate. 

you still looking for a place?

It took him two hours to respond. 

yeah. why?

You stared at your phone for a long moment, weighing your options. Every bone in your body wanted to tell him never mind, but you didn’t have that luxury anymore. 

i have an apartment lead. two bedrooms. rent isn’t awful. want to check it out?

San’s reply came quicker this time. 

sure. when? 

And just like that, your fate was sealed. It felt like you were making a pact with the devil. 

The apartment was fine… fine.

Nothing notable. Nothing terrible. Just, fine. 

The landlord was a woman in her late forties with minimal patience. She led the two of you through a quick tour. The kitchen that should really have been labeled as a kitchenette, was small, but functional. The bathroom had seen better days, but was clean enough. The bedrooms were on opposite sides of the unit—an unexpected blessing. If you were really going to do this, at least you wouldn’t have to hear him late at night in the next room. 

San, of course, was impossible to read. He wandered through the apartment with his hands remaining in his pockets, gaze flicking over each room with mild disinterest. Meanwhile, you were running frantic calculations in your head. The price wasn’t awful, the location was decent, and most importantly, this was your last option, you were out. 

"So?" the landlord asked, tapping her pen against the clipboard she held. "You in or not?"

You opened your mouth, ready to say yes, only to hesitate when San finally spoke. “Is there parking?”

You shot him a quick look. That was his question? Not about utilities, not about security deposits, but… parking?

The landlord sighed. “Street parking only. First come, first serve.”

San only hummed, nodding slightly before falling silent again. 

The landlord turned to you. “And you? Any questions?”

A thousand, but nothing would change the fact that you desperately needed this apartment. You shook your head. “No, I’m good, thank you.”

She clapped her hands together. "Great. Lease starts next week. If you’re both serious, we can do paperwork now."

There was a beat of silence. Then San shrugged. "Fine by me."

And that was it. 

So there you sat at the landlord's desk, pen in hand, staring at the contract in front of you. San was already in the midst of signing his copy, cool and composed as ever, like this was just another task to check off on his to-do list. Meanwhile, your stomach was knotting and twisting. This was real. You were actually doing this. 

You glanced at him, half-expecting some last-minute hesitation, some crack in his indifferent facade. But he just slid his finished paperwork back across the desk, tapping his fingers idly against the table, tapping his fingers idly against the table as he waited for you to finish. 

With a deep breath, you signed your name. 

The landlord smiled. “Congratulations. Hope you two get along.”

Neither of you responded. 

San tucked his copy of the lease into his bag, turning to you with an unreadable expression yet again. “Guess we’re doing this.”

You exhaled sharply, gripping your set of keys tightly. “Guess so.”

You already had a headache. 

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reacting to their s/o getting fired & doubting herself

Request: Hello celeste!!!!! Can I get an ot13 reaction where their wife telling them that they got fired from their workplace and doubting themselves for not being a better wife to them ??? Also I hope you have a better day ahead ♡

- ⭐️ anon

Immediately Gets Defensive & Angry On Your Behalf ("WHO DO I NEED TO FIGHT??" Protects you first, comforts you after.) — Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Mingyu, Seungkwan

“EXCUSE ME?? THEY FIRED YOU??” Their temper is immediately flaring up. Your boss is now Enemy #1.

Seungcheol: Already planning to call a lawyer. “That’s it. We’re taking legal action.” (Even if there’s no reason to, he just needs to do something.)

Jeonghan: Sarcastic and pissed af. “They really fired the BEST worker they had? Their loss, not yours, love.”

Mingyu: Hugs you instantly. “Are you okay?? No, don’t cry, baby, please—” he’s so worried but also furious on your behalf.

Seungkwan: Losing his mind. “TELL ME WHICH SUPERVISOR, I’M WRITING A SCATHING REVIEW.” Also pep talks you for two hours straight.

They REFUSE to let you blame yourself.

Immediately Holds You & Comforts You ("Baby, no, please don't say that about yourself." More focused on you than the job.) — Joshua, DK, Woozi, Vernon

Joshua: This man is SO SOFT. “Sweetheart, you are the most amazing wife. This job doesn’t deserve you.” Gives you the longest hug.

Woozi: Heart breaks in half. “You think you’re not good enough?? Love, I don’t care about the job, I care about YOU.” Softly kisses your forehead.

Dokyeom: TEARY-EYED. “YOU THINK YOU’RE NOT A GOOD WIFE??? BABY, YOU ARE THE BEST THING TO EVER HAPPEN TO ME.” (Now he’s crying, too.)

Vernon: Squeezes your hand so tight. “That’s crazy talk. You’re literally the best person I know.” Says it so sincerely, you believe him.

They will keep reassuring you until you see yourself the way they do.

Cannot Believe You'd Even Think This About Yourself ("I must have misheard you. Say that again and see what happens.") — Wonwoo, Minghao, Dino

Wonwoo: Dead serious. “You’re questioning yourself? The woman I married? Don’t ever do that again.” His voice is soft but firm.

Minghao: Crosses his arms. “So you’re telling me a job can determine your worth? Do you think that’s true?” He will MAKE you realize how amazing you are.

Dino: Eyes WIDE with disbelief. “Do you think my love depends on your job? Is that how little you think of my love for you?” (He’s so hurt that you’d ever doubt yourself ☹️)

They don’t tolerate self-doubt. They will make you understand your worth, one way or another.

Extra

Treats you like a princess for the rest of the day

"If they don’t appreciate you, I’ll appreciate you twice as much."

EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM would spoil you immediately.

Expect your favorite food, hugs all day, unlimited kisses, a cozy movie night, and them reminding you how perfect you are.

OT13 does NOT care about your job. He cares about YOU. He will protect, comfort, and love you through this and he will make sure you know you are still an amazing wife, partner, and person.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi hello good morning/afternoon/night<3 I’m quite new to Tumblr and I really like your writing style! I haven’t read too much yet but I think it’s really good, and if requests are open could I please suggest anything Riddle x reader related? If that’s okay, of course.

It’s winter and cuffing season so there’s a WIDE range of fic scenarios I can imagine just now—then again, only if you’re up to it of course, not pressing or anything, I just really like how you write the characters plus Heartslabyul is my fav house and I love Riddle.

Sorry this is long.

Thank you for reading if you do 🫶

Hello, hello, newcomer ^^ I hope you continue to enjoy your time here on this blog~

For your prompt, I decided to go for a prompt of "sick!Reader reunites with Riddle (now Dr. Rosehearts) 10 years later"~ (When I think of winter, I think of getting sick, lmao)

What comes after Ever After?

You didn’t even notice you were falling until you collided with something solid and fleshy. Another body—that of the man that had been walking a little ways ahead of you. He had turned in time to catch you, and now awkwardly held you against his chest.

The buzz of people around you is dullened by your sickness. It’s like you’ve stuffed cotton into your ears, yet your head still spins as if you’ve climbed off a roller coaster. Your eyes and mouth and nostrils are so chapped they burn, your nose running like a leaky faucet.

“Are you feeling alright?” came a posh-sounding voice littered with concern.

Though your head felt heavy as cinderblocks, you managed to crane it and weakly nod. It was a barely passable lie, even to yourself.

“Let me see,” the man insisted. “Are you able to stand on your own?”

“Y-Yes.”

You stepped back with a sniffle—and realized that the man standing before you was a smallish redhead with prim blue-grey eyes. Two strands of hair formed an almost heart-like shape atop his crown. Wrapped up in a pristine white coat, he resembled a rose laid in the snow.

Red hair… heart-shaped… like a rose…

You audibly gasped. “No way. Is that you, Riddle…?!”

He frowned, but it was slight. There was an attempt at a smile, although that, too, was slight. “These days, I go by Dr. Rosehearts—but for an old classmate, just ‘Riddle’ will suffice.” He lifted a hand, allowing it to hover over your clammy forehead. “May I? I fear I lack a thermometer for a more exact reading.”

“O-Oh, sure,” you squeaked, half dazed.

In your delirious state, you wondered if this was even real. Riddle’s touch on your bare skin, his serious face so close, the ease with which you picked up from where you had left off 10 years ago. Those long, drawn out days in a balmy rose garden, the aroma of Darjeeling permeating the air.

It was like a dream, one you weren’t sure if you wanted to take up from.

“… You’re flushed and burning up,” he announced, retracting his hand. “It’s a wonder you were able to drag yourself out of bed. You should have stayed home and rested.”

“Then I’d have missed the reunion,” you protested hoarsely. I’d have missed seeing you again.

“Of all the foolish reasons to jeopardize your health! As a medical professional, I cannot say that I approve of this decision.” Riddle heaved a sigh, his eyes half-lidded and judgmental. Then a brief smile flickered onto his lips. “… But as a friend, I am glad that you feel so strongly about rekindling those lost connections.”

He reached into the pocket of his white coat and retrieved a packet of tissues, offering them. From his other pocket, cough drops appeared. “Here, take these. They should help tide you over for the duration of the event.”

“Thank you,” you said shyly, accepting the items. Your cheeks warmed, and you didn’t know if it was from the cold or from his kindness. “Um…”

“Yes?” he prompted. Patient, steady, like a rock in a river.

“Would you mind walking by me? And staying by me, too. I-In case I get dizzy again!” you blurted out.

Riddle chuckled into a fist. What a lovely, soft laugh he had, like summer wind chimes melting the icicles. “I would be honored to. It would allow me to monitor your condition—and it would also be an excellent opportunity for us to catch up.”

“I’d like that,” you murmured. “I’d like that a lot.”

[raven-dor]

tell me you love me

in which bucky barnes is told some startling news on the phone…

PAIRING: bucky barnes x reader, bucky barnes x avenger!reader

WARNINGS: miscommunication, nosy roommates, sass, sam wilson teasing peter parker, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

🎶 : two hands - tate mcrae

AN: literally one of my favorite fics i've ever written!! also, this is a Avengers live in the tower AU, no civil war ever occurred, so yay!! ALSO - let me know if you want to be on my taglist!! i'd love to have you!!

It had been out of nowhere. You hadn’t even realized the gravity of the situation until you were met with silence from the other line. 

“What’s for dinner?” His gruff voice had shivers running down your spine.

“I don’t know.” You hummed, the phone tucked between your shoulder and ear as you walked down the grocery store aisles. “What are you craving?” 

“Burgers?” It was more of a question, he was waiting for you to confirm you were also craving said meal. He always did this, waiting for you to decide before he made his decision. It was not missed by you that earlier that week, you’d talked about how badly you craved a classic cheeseburger.

You laughed, the others in the aisle giving you annoyed looks, not that you minded. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Barnes.” 

“Oh?” You could tell he was holding back laughter. “You would think after all that time in HYRDA...” 

“Bucky!” You yelled, this time noticing the looks your fellow shoppers gave you. Whispering, you chuckled to yourself. “Don’t joke about that.” 

“Why not?” He was most certainly frowning. 

“If that’s how you want to cope…” You trailed off, looking at the price tag on the buns, eyes widening at the amount and quickly setting them back down. “You sleep well?” 

“Next to you? Always.” He sounded spirited, much more spirited than he’d been when you left him to go shopping. Good, you told yourself, he was too often found brooding alone, it was nice to hear him so… so mischievous. “You know I do, Doll.” 

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, biting your bottom lip to keep from grinning too widely. “I know. Just wanted to hear you say it.” 

Grabbing the meat from the deli counter, you walked toward the checkout, frowning when you saw that the self-checkout kiosks were out of order. “Babe?” 

He hummed. 

“I’m gonna have to let you go, okay? The kiosks are out of order.” 

He groaned. “Again?”

You nodded as if he could see you. “Unfortunately.” 

“I’ll see you soon, then.” 

“See you soon. I love you.” The peace before the realization had been fleeting, reality hitting you like a truck. Almost instantly, your heart flipped, and your eyes widened.

Bucky had been dead silent, and you secretly hoped your voice had cut out, that the service had saved you, and he hadn’t heard it. 

Not that you didn’t mean it. You’d loved him for longer than you cared to admit, but with his past, you hadn’t wanted to rush anything. You didn’t want him to feel forced. Like right now.

“Buck?” You whispered, eyes welling at his lack of response. “Are you there?” Again, no response. You pushed the red button, hands shaking as the call disconnected.

Shit. 

Which led you to now, racing home without the food you’d promised. When the team had decided to all live in the tower together, they made a pact. If you asked anyone else, it had been more of a forced pact, thanks to Steve. 

Each Avenger would make dinner, alternating every night. Today had been your day, and now not only were you coming home empty-handed, but you were also planning to drop off the face of the Earth, which completely defeated the purpose of your job and its responsibilities. 

It was a wonder, you told yourself as you waited for the elevator doors to open, that Bucky hadn’t been there to meet you in the lobby, waiting for an explanation. Or worse, disgust on his perfect face. 

You kept your head down as you landed on the top floor, all but running to your room. Slamming the door behind you, you ordered Friday to bar everyone from entering.

The computer system spoke back, voice as posh as ever. “Does that include Mr. Barnes?” 

“Yes.” You huffed, heart thumping. “Especially Mr. Barnes.” 

“Has something happened?”

“You could say that.” Checking under your bed, the balcony, the closet, and the bathroom, a sigh of relief left you knowing that Bucky wasn’t already there, hiding.

Everything had been perfect, up until your slip. He asked to take it slow, mainly due to ‘not wanting to disrupt the team dynamic.’ You’d understood, and you’d also understood that he had another reason, one that he wouldn’t speak aloud, but that you both knew. 

He wanted to take it slow and slow did not contain saying ‘I love you’ four months after you started dating. 

A knock rang through your room, breaking you from your thoughts. Looking at the door with fear pumping through your veins, you waited for him to speak. 

“Y/N?” 

You’d almost sighed with relief. Almost. “Yeah?” 

“What’d you end up getting for dinner?” Nat called out. “Wilson’s asking.” 

“I-” Grabbing your wallet, you slid your credit card under the door. “Order whatever you want.” 

“Okay.” Nat sounded curious. “So, what happened?” 

“Why- why would you ask that?” 

“Other than the fact you won’t show your face, and Friday is barricading me from entering?” The super-spy sounded fed up. “What did he do?” 

“He?” Your voice was a mere squeak. 

“Yes, he. Everyone knows you two are dating, don’t act so surprised. It’s my job to know these sorts of things.” 

You glared at the door. “That’s not at all your job, Natasha.” 

“What’s going on?” 

You groaned, shoving your face into your pillow. At this point, the whole team would know your business by dinner. “Go away, Wanda.” 

“What’s happened?” The Sokovian whispered.

“Barnes did something,” Nat muttered. “Won’t say what exactly, but-” 

“Nat!” You yelled, lifting your head. “I can hear you, you know.” 

“Let us in, Y/N.” Wanda sounded as if she was frowning. “What did he do that was so bad-” 

“It wasn’t him.” You sighed. “It- it was me.” 

“What happened?” Wanda’s voice was gentle. “You can tell us.” 

“I really can’t.” You whined. “One second.” Grabbing a piece of paper from your desk, you scribbled down the infamous three words, slipping it under the door. “Shit, Y/L/N. Isn’t that a little soon?” 

Your eyes widened. “What the hell, you two? Why is Sam there?” 

Wanda sounded deeply apologetic. “It’s not just Sam.” 

“I’m here too.” Peter squeaked. 

“Me too.” Tony’s voice sounded much too entertained, and you glared at the door.

“Yeah!” Clint sounded suspiciously high like he was in the vents again. You reminded yourself to reprimand him when the dust cleared. 

“Y/N! Why are you hiding in your room?” Thor’s thunderous voice rang clear over the rest of the supposed crowd that had formed. 

“Thor.” Bruce sounded extremely annoyed. “We’re inside, you don’t need to shout.” 

“Yeah, what the green guy said.” Rhodey’s voice echoed. 

“Go away!” You yelled, sitting against the door. “I-” 

“What’s going on here?” Steve’s voice sounded distant, like he was walking down the hall. You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for him to do what everyone else had done. 

But it never came. 

“Have any of you seen Buck? Last time I saw him, he was on the phone. Haven’t seen him since.” 

You were certain Nat and Tony were smirking. “Why don’t you ask Y/N.” 

“Why? Are they together?” 

Tony sounded like he was holding back tears, not from sadness, but from laughter. “After this? Questionable.” 

“Tony!” You yelled, smacking the door. “Shut up!” 

“Give me that.” Getting off the floor, you looked through the peephole, watching in horror as he read the paper. “Break it up, all of you.” Protests broke out, all of them yelling at Steve. “We’re not talking about this any longer. It’s not our business.” 

“C’mon-” 

Steve glared at the billionaire, and he instantly shut up. “Tony.” 

He raised his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. What’s for dinner then?” 

“Whatever you want.” You yelled out. “Just use my card.”

Tony shook his head. “After the day you’ve had, it’s my treat.” 

You nodded, a faint smile gracing your lips. “Just leave the food at my door when it gets here.” 

“No.” Steve’s hands were on his hips, and you could see Peter and Wanda holding back laughter. He looked like a concerned father. “You will leave your room and have dinner with the rest of us.” 

“Yeah, Y/N.” Tony echoed, not even trying to hide his laughter. “C’mon out.” 

“Steve, please.” You begged. “I can’t see him right now.” 

“He’s not even here, дорогой (sweetheart),” Wanda yelled out. “Please come out, we’re worried about you.” 

“I am not leaving.” You shook your head. “You can’t make me.” 

The dinner table was quiet, the entirety of the Avengers (minus Bucky) staring at you with utter fascination. Well, more like a mix of pity, worry, and fascination. 

Peter cleared his throat, smiling kindly. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I did the same thing, and it all turned out fine.” 

That brought you some inkling of hope. “Really?” 

The teenager nodded. “She was very nice about it. We’re still friends.” 

Your face fell, dropping your head into your hands. The table erupted with laughter, and Peter’s cheeks grew bright red in record time. 

“Not exactly the smartest thing you could’ve said there, kid.” Tony snickered.

“Ease up, Tony,” Steve interjected. “He’s trying, unlike all of you.” 

“He meant well.” Vision finally spoke, much to everyone’s surprise. “There was no malice in his tone.” 

Clint smirked. “Yeah, Y/N. No malice. Does that bring you comfort?”

You raised your right hand, flipping him off.  

Sam shook his head. “I just want to eat, man. Eat, and see Bucky’s reaction.” 

Sitting up, you glared at the Falcon. “You’re excited for my demise, you psychopath.” 

“Not exactly.” 

“What’s-” The table turned around, dead silent as they stared at the Winter Soldier, who looked perfectly fine, content even. He stood in front of them with a bright smile, food in hand. “What’s going on?” 

“What’s going on?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you tell us?” You wished your superpower was invisibility. Unfortunately, it was not, so you opted for sinking further into your seat. “Nothing happened recently you want to share?” 

His smile fell. “No?”

Sam groaned, standing up and pulling the food from the super soldier’s hands. “Please. I’m starving.” 

Nat laughed. “I thought you wanted to see his reaction.” 

“Reaction?” Bucky sounded confused. “Reaction to what, exactly?” 

Thor was the final push. “I love you!” 

“I love you too?” Bucky sat down, eyes brightening when he met yours. You quickly stared at your hands, which were placed in tight balls in your lap. 

“Not me. Y/N. The words Y/N-” 

Clint slapped a hand over Thor’s mouth, glaring. “That’s enough out of you, big guy.” 

“What?” Bucky tilted his head, staring at you, with what seemed to be a glimpse of hope in his gaze. “When did you-” 

“On the phone?” Nat interjected. “You were on the phone, and Y/N said-” 

“Nat.” You hissed. “Stop, please.” 

“Y/N?” Bucky looked at you. “What’s going on?” 

So the phone had cut out. The phone had cut out, meaning if you had just kept your big mouth shut, everything would have been fine. 

And if Thor hadn’t opened his mouth, maybe you could have made it out with your dignity. “Nothing, James.” Reaching out, you grabbed your order from the pile, the rest of the Avengers following suit. Bucky stayed still, staring at you intently. 

You tried to focus on your dinner, on the conversation that started after, but every time you looked up, he was staring at you with his ice-blue eyes. “Doll?” The table quieted, staring at the pair. “Can we talk?” 

You swallowed the food that you’d been chewing, nodding slowly. You felt like you were being marched to your death as you followed him out of the dining room. Sparing one last look at the dinner table, Wanda and Peter gave you a half-hearted thumbs up. 

The hall was dim, Bucky’s eyes bore into your soul as he waited for an explanation. “Tell me what happened.” 

“Nothing-” You grew small when he sighed, crossing his arms. “It’s really not that big of a deal.” 

“Yeah?” He smirked, but you could tell he was panicking. You told each other everything, you were sure he was breaking a sweat from your lack of transparency. “Then tell me.” You stayed silent, and he took a step forward, practically backing you up against the wall. “Please, Doll.” 

You were sure this was a nightmare. A horrible horrible nightmare. “We were on the phone… and I um… I may or may not have said that I love you.” He did not react, continuing to stare at you. That’d made you even more nervous, and you began to ramble as a result. “And you didn’t reply, so I panicked, and then I hung up. I came home and hid in my room and then everyone found out and then I found out you didn’t even hear it, and-” You took a shallow breath. “I don’t want you to feel rushed or forced because I want you to feel comfortable, because I really do-” You stopped, looking up at him hesitantly. “I really do love you.” He was fully grinning now, and you frowned. “Are you about to laugh at me?” 

He shook his head placing his hand on the wall above you as he leaned down. “No.” 

“No?” You scoffed, ignoring the way his eyes had darkened. “You’re smirking, and I’m being vulnerable and you’re- you-” You huffed, walking away from him. “Maybe we should just-” Escape had almost been achieved when his metal hand wrapped around your wrist, spinning you around. “Stop.” You felt trapped in a spell, a horrifyingly beautiful spell. He stared at you so intensely that your knees buckled. “Buck-” 

He was still grinning. “I love you too.” 

“I-” You smiled. “You do?” 

“C’mon Doll.” He teased, brushing his nose against yours as he reached for your lips. “Of course I do.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, still not believing this was real life. “You-” His lips were rushed; like he needed to kiss you to live. Placing his other arm around your waist, he pulled you impossibly close, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. He could have gone on kissing you senseless for hours, but you pulled away, gasping for air. “Buck-” 

“You are so considerate, too considerate even.” He whispered. “I did want to take things slow, you’re right.” 

You nodded. “If you-” 

“Did I-” He kissed you before you could finish your sentence. “Or did I not,” He kissed you so gently, so longingly. “Just tell you that I love you too?” 

You were positively weak in the knees. “You did.” 

“I did want to take things slow, but you…” He almost growled. “You happened.” 

“Oh?” You were grinning now, actually grinning. “I’m assuming I happened in a good way.” 

“In a perfect way.” He corrected, pushing a hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. “You’re too good for me, Doll. Don’t deserve you.” 

“I don’t know, Barnes.” You shook your head, kissing the corner of his mouth so lightly he could have sworn it never happened. “You’re pretty swell.” 

He rolled his eyes, pushing you away teasingly. “Never mind then.” 

You gasped, stalking back into the dining room, the Avengers observing from the safe distance the table provided. “In that case-” 

His hand wrapped around your wrist once more, pulling your lips to his instantly. Wolf whistles erupted, all of them laughing at the couple in front of them. Your hands rested on his chest, smiling as he pulled away, lips still touching. “Did you really have to do that?” 

He shrugged. “Just wanted another reason to kiss you.” 

“So sappy.” You teased. “What a charmer you are.” 

“Well,” He leaned toward your ear, whispering. “I aim to please.” 

“Break it up!” Sam yelled, mouth full of food. “I’m trying to eat here. Plus…” He pointed to Peter, laughing. “There’s kids present.” 

“I’m eighteen, Sam.” 

“Still a kid, Parker.” 

taglist:

[bradleysass]

Cloak - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 713

James Potter had never intended to use the cloak.

It had been passed down from his grandfather to his father and, eventually, to him with great ceremony and talk of responsibility and legacy. But, really, have you seen it? It was old and ragged-looking, the fabric tattered at the edges and dull with age. It wasn’t even a particularly good cloak—not lined, not warm, certainly not fashionable in any sense of the word. The only thing it had going for it was the whole invisibility thing.

Which, James had decided, was kind of cool. Not enough to actually wear the thing, mind you, because he was James Potter, and James Potter did not wear ugly cloaks, but cool enough to keep folded under his bed, just in case.

‘Just in case’ turned out to be ‘when he found himself in an empty corridor with his best friend’s younger brother pressed against a wall, hands tangled in his perfectly messy hair, breath stolen from his lungs.’

Regulus Black was a problem. A problem James had not intended to have. A problem that started with a single glance across the Quidditch pitch, followed by stolen insults exchanged in hushed tones, then a maddening realization that the boy had somehow crawled under his skin and made himself comfortable.

Now, here they were—hidden between two towering suits of armor, James pressed up against Regulus as if he could somehow pull them both into the stone itself and disappear. Which would have been great, actually, because footsteps were approaching, and James was fairly certain that was Sirius’ voice.

James pulled back, heart hammering. “Oh, shit.”

Regulus blinked up at him, lips still red and kiss-bitten. “What?”

“Sirius,” James whispered urgently. “Sirius is coming.”

Regulus stiffened immediately. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” James hissed. He wasn’t. He never joked about his impending death, which would be imminent if Sirius caught them.

Regulus exhaled sharply, already glancing around for an escape, but the corridor was a dead end, and they were trapped.

Which was when James had a thought. A horrible, brilliant, ridiculous thought.

“I have an idea,” he said. “Don’t kill me.”

Regulus’ eyes narrowed. “That depends.”

James dug into his bag, fingers closing around the smooth, familiar fabric of the cloak he had sworn he would never use. He yanked it out, draped it over them both, and grinned triumphantly as the world around them shimmered and disappeared.

Regulus inhaled sharply. “What the—”

“Invisibility cloak,” James murmured, tugging him close. “Family heirloom. Sirius has no idea I have it.”

Regulus was still staring at him, wide-eyed and incredulous, but there wasn’t time for questions. Just as James tightened his hold, Sirius rounded the corner with Remus at his side, still talking loudly about something completely irrelevant to the fact that James Potter and Regulus Black were currently pressed against each other under an invisibility cloak, sharing the same breath, and hoping for dear life that Sirius didn’t suddenly develop a sixth sense for secret snogging sessions.

“…so I told McGonagall, ‘Professor, you can’t prove it was me,’ and she said, ‘Sirius, you wrote your name on the wall,’ and honestly, Moony, I think she’s got it out for me.”

Remus sighed. “You did write your name on the wall.”

“Okay, but how do we know it was me? That’s all I’m saying.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, barely breathing, his hands clenched around James’ robes. James bit his lip to keep from laughing.

The moment Sirius and Remus disappeared around the next corner, Regulus shoved him off. “That was stupid.”

James, still grinning, let the cloak slide off his shoulders. “That was genius.”

Regulus scoffed, adjusting his rumpled collar. “That was reckless and ridiculous and—”

“—effective,” James finished for him, leaning in again. “And if you want to snog me again without getting caught, we might need to keep it handy.”

Regulus glared at him, but there was color high on his cheeks, and he didn’t pull away when James nudged their noses together.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But if Sirius does catch us, I’m telling him this was all your idea.”

James smirked. “Deal.”

And then, because James Potter was nothing if not an opportunist, he kissed him again.

[lesmiix]

HELLO, a bit of a strange request but could I have a Hyung-juu x male reader who, when she realizes that he likes her, feels bad for not being woman enough? Ilv =3

ONE SHOT: Pretty girl.

Hyun-ju x g/n reader

Summary: You and Hyun-ju are very close friends. And when you started to fall in love with her, she started to feel bad, thinking that you deserve "a real woman".

Warnings: g/n: gender neutral reader, just fluff.

a/n: I preferred to write it with a g/n reader because I don't feel really comfortable writing with a male reader in particular, it doesn't make a big difference though, hope you don't mind🫶💗

Enjoy!!

💗 HYUN-JU REQUESTS ARE OPEN 💗

It was a warm spring evening, when you and Hyun-ju were sitting on a park bench. You’d been friends for years, inseparable since the day you met. She was your confidante, your partner in crime, the person who made you laugh when the world felt heavy. But lately, you have been thinking about something, something you couldn’t ignore.

You glanced at her, her dark hair catching the sunlight, her eyes focused on the distant playground where children laughed and played. She looked beautiful, but there was a slight sadness in her expression that wasn't there before. It had started a few weeks ago, around the same time you realized your feelings for her had deepened into something more. You’d tried to push it down, to keep things as they were, but your heart had other plans.

She was so good for you, she treated you like a treasure, she always took good care of you and worried about you. Honestly, that melted your heart.

“Hey” you said softly, breaking the silence. “You’ve been quiet today. Is everything okay?”

She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the ring you gifted her.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, but her voice lacked its usual warmth. She turned to you, her lips curving into a small, forced smile. “Just thinking.”

"About what?”" you asked, your chest tightening with concern.

She sighed, her gaze dropping to her hands. "About… you. About us."

Your heart skipped a beat. “What about us?”

She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself.

"Y/n, it's so obvious that you like me, and... I've just been thinking about it. You're amazing. You’re kind, and funny, and so full of life. But you don't deserve someone like me."

"What do you mean beautiful?" You asked, holding her hand between yours, knowing what was about to come.

"You deserve to be with a real woman, y/n"

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut.

"Idiot" you started.

"You are a real woman."

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.

"Don’t say that just to make me feel better. I know what I am. And I know you deserve more than… than someone like me."

You reached out, taking her hand in yours. Her fingers were cold, trembling slightly. "Listen to me" you said, your voice steady. "You’re not ‘someone like you. You’re Hyun-ju. You’re the person who makes me laugh when I’m having a bad day. You’re the one who knows me better than anyone else. You’re brave, and strong, and beautiful, and I…"You paused, your throat tightening.

"I’m in love with you. Not because of who you were or who you think you should be, but because of who you are. Right here, right now."

Her breath hitched, and she looked at you, her eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt.

"You don’t have to say that" she whispered. "I don’t want you to regret this later."

"I won’t" You said firmly.

"I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re not a placeholder, Hyun-ju. You’re not second best. You’re my first choice. You always have been."

For a moment, she just stared at you, tears streaming down her cheeks. Then, you slowly caressed her cheek, cupping it in your hand, as you leaned in for a kiss. A few inches separated your lips, as you looked into her eyes, seeking consent.

She hesitated for a moment, but finally, she closed the space between you.

The kiss was soft. Full of love. You wanted to show her everything you felt for her. Everything you have been holding back.

After some seconds, you pulled away. Looking at her in the eyes.

"I love you, Hyun-ju. I truly do"

She let out a shaky laugh, her hand tightening around yours.

"You're so corny, you know that?"

You smiled, brushing a tear from her cheek. "Yeah, but you love me anyway."

And for the first time in weeks, her smile reached her eyes.

"Yeah" she said softly.

"I do"

a/n: This is so sweet I can't.

[snowseasonmademe]

hi everyone, i’m back and i have missed you all very much😌 i had a great break. it was very peaceful and productive. while i was away i realized how addictive this app and my phone can be. i was a lot more productive and just overall happier. don’t worry im staying, but i need to manage my time on here a lot better and use filtering and blocking to my advantage. i haven’t written anything since before the break but i will be starting again soon. i have a draft or two that i was working on before that are great and im really excited to share them soon. if anyone new wants to be in the tag list let me know :)

i hope you all didn’t miss me too much. i’m so excited to talk to everyone again. my inbox is open!! send me asks, let’s talks and catch up everyone.

for my moots: hey moots, i’ve missed interacting with you all! 🥹 hope you’re all doing great, truly. just wanted to say something i think is important. i feel like as a community, we should do our best to stick together and support each other. at the very least, we should be respectful to one another, especially with all the hate and harassment we face as black people and poc on this app. okay enough of me lecturing, let’s have fun pleaaaseeee💝!!

[residentphoenix]

Dreaming is shifting

Disclaimer: It’s totally alright if we disagree! I’m absolutely not an authority. I’d love to hear feedback if you have any.

I’ve seen multiple people get caught up in asking themselves if they shifted, had a vivid dream, or if they astral projected. I understand why we distinguish between these things, but to me, they’re all just experiences.

At times, I feel like we end up limiting ourselves by specifying that we’re shifting to other realities. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the belief in other realities. The issue is, we can be so rigid, exclusionary, and inconsistent with what we define as a reality.

If there’s infinite realities, there’s infinite realities. If we shift every moment, we shift every moment. There’s realities that don’t make sense, ones that follow dream logic. Do you magically stop shifting at every moment once you enter the astral realm or while you’re asleep? No.

I believe we’re all consciousness experiencing things, and nothing is technically more “real” than anything else. When we shift, we’re just changing what we’re aware of. We do this a lot (every moment, if you hadn’t heard!) but it’s very obvious that we do this when we dream, yet we tend to brush this off for some strange reason.

Do you ever remember we’re on a floating rock in the middle of space? The moon exists, the stars. You get so used to these facts, but sometimes, it hits you. I think we need to remember this about dreaming too after becoming so used to it. We’re literally moving our awareness somewhere entirely different when we dream.

You can shift to a reality that feels and acts exactly like a dream. What would be the difference besides what you call it? You already know this, but I sincerely hope you feel it true now: Congrats, shifter! You’ve already done the thing.

I think a big issue a lot of us have is, we just don’t give ourselves enough credit. We don’t trust ourselves enough.

You might say, “Well, Phoenix, my dreams don’t feel vividly real, though! Doesn’t that make them less real?”

You’ve just shifted to realities that don’t feel vivid, friend. That’s a feature of them. There’s infinite realities. Some are in all black and white, time moves weirdly, or smell doesn’t exist as a sense whatsoever. Does that make them less real? No. So what makes these ones less real?

“Okay, but, Phoenix, I still haven’t shifted to the reality I want to go to. What if I can’t?”

You can.

We’ve talked about how dreams are other realities, but since we’re shifting at every moment, things can kind of blend together, and they aren’t as separate as they seem. You can technically do anything in a dream, which further leads me to believe that we don’t need to be in the void or whatnot to manifest things instantly—I think we just want that to be the case, so it is.

I think what we’re currently experiencing seemingly losing all predictability and stability would terrify most of us too much, and this is a big reason why we tend to manifest things slowly. Things take time, they come naturally, you question whether or not they were all just coincidences.

We’re experiencing being human, and it’s understandable when we struggle, that we put limitations on ourselves because we want to feel safe.

We can do anything in dreams, yet it’s understandable when we have nightmares, when we don’t realize that we are dreaming, or when we forget our own power.

You can decide you’re ready, or that it doesn’t matter how ready you are, but you can also assume that you’re on your way, that you’re more ready than you believe, and everything is now leading you to it.

You don’t have to, but it truly is okay to take your time! Time doesn’t exist anyway, so even if it seems like it’s taken you a while, that is not proof that you’re incapable or that it won’t happen.

It will.

2nd Disclaimer: I’m probably never making another post like this again, but it was fun!

Thanks so much for reading!<3

[starletdust]

HI HI HI IM HERE TO EXIST IN YOUR INBOX TO CHEER YOU UP. I noticed you suggested Poe and Akutagawa were some of your favorites. So. Could I request some headcanons for Little Akutagawa and Caregiver Chuuya? :3 I like the idea of Chuuya connecting with Akutagawa after Dazai leaves

𐂯 little akutagawa & cg chuuya hcs !!!! ୨୧

i was going to go back to doing requests in order ( lie ) and then you came along . hi i hope it’s comfy in my inbox please visit whenever you’d like . but chuuyamention happy binkies i love them both aaauugh my creatures ♡

probably not the most in-character but we will ignore that right ., right .

𝜗𝒞 ;; akutagawa didn’t actually realize he regressed at first ! he mostly chalked it up to exhaustion making his brain feel a little fuzzy and his motor skills a bit worse than usual , until he was doted on a little extra after a rougher mission and he was way more aware of how he was acting / what he was acting like …

 ⤷ even then though he didn’t properly label it as regression — not until chuuya swooped in and began to care for him !!

☆ ;; chuuya makes sure to give akutagawa the praise he needs !!! it’s not the same as dazai’s , but the little guy always tries to be ‘ useful ’ even when bitty (,,>﹏<,,) chuuya tries to get him to relax a bit more but sometimes it’s a losing battle TT

 ⤷ akutagawa also tries to tell chuuya he’s regressed a bit older , maybe around 7-9 , but in reality he’s usually in the 3-5 range … he melts with just a tiny bit of pampering though ! he’s already pretty tired when little , mostly getting into his headspace involuntarily , so his resolve is quite weak ,,,

۶ৎ ;; akutagawa isn’t the biggest fan of color , and he doesn’t buy himself much for regressing — mostly because all the baby things are just too bright and overwhelming for him < / 3 he likes when everything’s coherent together , and muted colors are his best friend !!! although he has a few outliers in his little gear ( that chuuya has spoiled him with ) , namely things that remind him of the people he’s close to !

★ ;; a very very quiet , very very sedentary little . he’s not entirely nonverbal , but he doesn’t speak very much and likes to spend most of his time doing easy activities or watching chuuya do whatever ^^ however he’ll absolutely voice whenever he’s uncomfy or feeling icky !!

𝜗𐑞 ;; chuuya is sort of an in-between of a father figure and just close friend kind of caregiver (..◜ᴗ◝..) akutagawa doesn’t call him any sort of title , but he’s definitely one of if not the first people he goes to with advice for trickier stuff ( like emotions ) ! chuuya’s just glad to see his subordinate(s) doing okay , i think he’s always had that sort of protective instinct with every organization he’s been in and it just amplifies when akutagawa regresses ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

♫ ;; chuuya tries to get akutagawa out of his coat for safety reasons if he’s bitty , but a lot of the time it just freaks the tiny out more — it’s super hit-or-miss !!! if he’s regressed especially young though chuuya tends to succeed , since it can be a bit heavy / overstimulating for aku compared to some comfier clothes or pajamas ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶ ꒱ྀིა

yay ! i somewhat wrote something ! again i promise i know their characters i’m just not at my best fallign to my knees sorry this is all over the place

@twinypwupy

[hvninureyes]

𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝑜𝓁𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇. . . | luka dončić

summary | you’re trying to adjust to your new life in la, bottling up your feelings despite the hurt you feel. too bad luka won’t let you.

warnings | none! just an angst to fluff fic <3

author’s note | this is basically my own way of coping. luka please we miss you 💔

the past few days haven’t felt real.

one day, you were celebrating after purchasing your new home with your husband. next thing you know, you’re on a one way flight to los angeles, hand and hand with luka. deep down, as the camera lights flashed from the paparazzi, you hoped that maybe, adam silver would pop out of nowhere with a whole camera crew, yelling out “it’s a prank!”

maybe your plane ticket would magically turn into a roundtrip back to dallas, where all your friends, family, job– your life was. yet two weeks later and still nothing. you feel horrible thinking it, knowing that he’s going through so much more, but it’s not fair. the way he found out, the way you watched him hold in everything for hours until he broke down in front of you, leaving without a proper goodbye, and the fake, soulless smiles for the camera.

give it time, they say, you’ll get used to it– yet everything you do, you say, those rare moments of silence where you’re alone with your rushing thoughts, you think of dallas. you think of home and how it was ripped away from you in seconds. you never thought this would ever happen to him, but here you are.

it's a party hosted by the laker’s organization. they wanted to “welcome him to LA!” the “right way”, with a bunch of shareholders and names of people you can’t bother to remember. the whole team is present as well, also some wives and girlfriends. you’re sitting alone with your glass of…something, when a voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“you okay?”

not just any voice, but his voice. the only one that matters. luka doesn’t hesitate to sit next to you, grabbing your hand and tracing circles on your skin. you know what this is, he’s trying to comfort you. a pang of sadness hits you, making you realize your selfishness. this is the last thing he should be worried about. this isn’t about you, you think. you signed up for this.

“i’m fine,” you smile, tightly, trying to convince him (and yourself). it’s obvious it doesn’t work, because luka just sighs and deadpans. “be serious.”

“i am!” he scoffs at your protest, rolling his eyes. “i’m your husband, you know. you’re not fooling anyone but yourself.”

you don’t say anything back because he’s right. painfully right. but still, you put back on your smile and reassure him once again.

because that’s what a “good and supportive” wife does. smile through it all.

it doesn’t feel suffocating in your new house anymore– just unfamiliar. like every hallway and room isn’t really yours.

sitting down on your shared bed, you take each heel off, finally feeling something throughout your body. exhaustion. but that’s better than feeling nothing at all. when’s the last time you felt actually at peace? you can’t remember, and don’t bother to. it’ll cause more problems. you can see luka enter from the corner of your eye, a determined look on his face.

you can already feel what’s coming next.

“you haven’t gotten away with this.” he sits next to you with a soft ‘thud’, “really, talk to me, baby.” you smirk, looking up at him. “was there something to get away with in the first place?” obviously, luka isn’t amused at all, seeing past your act. he stares you down with a serious look, expecting the truth. but you don’t know if you have the strength to tell him.

“i…” you trail off, thinking to yourself. “i just need time to process things. i’ll be fine.”

“but you don’t have to be fine.” you frown, looking at him confused. what? he continues,

“i don’t expect you to immediately get used to everything.” he says, softly, “that wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“but this whole situation hasn’t been fair to you, luka. this isn’t about me–”

“that’s exactly what i mean. yes, this has been the craziest past few weeks for me and you. it’s about us. you can’t–” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, trying to find the words to say. “you can’t act like this isn’t hurting you. i see you, all the time, lost in thought. i know what you’re thinking about and i feel the same way. but you’re taking this on by yourself and you shouldn’t have to.”

you don’t say anything, simply listening to him. even after his rant, he doesn’t press you for answers. you’ll come around eventually, and when you do, he’ll be there.

“i’m here, for you. i made a promise to be by your side forever and i’m going to keep it.”

you don’t even notice you’re crying until luka wipes away your tears with his thumb, holding your jaw as if you’re the most precious thing he owns. with a smile, his eyes shine with pure adoration, reminding you that you are loved and seen. it’s this moment where you realize that you truly aren’t alone in this.

not even if you wanted to be.