#With the ‘second secret name that no-one knows’ that they all have

[jinwoosungs]

05/04/25; 10:25pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when you are their favorite love interest ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

notes: i know that this has been done before, but this is just my own take on this fun thought, and i hope you readers give this a chance, too (⺣◡⺣)♡

when sylus first heard of this new game that was celebrating its day one launch, admittedly, the onychinus leader had zero interest in it-

that is, until a particular trailer was showcased introducing a rather enticing love interest-

you.

to say sylus was hooked would be a complete understatement. within seconds of your trailer’s release, sylus downloaded the game and got to work. he did not hold back when it came to his spendings, already adding in the details of his sleek black credit card before customizing his mc. after making his mc look as close to him as possible, he chooses you to be his partner while running through the main storyline.

thanks to his endless amount of wealth, he manages to obtain all of your five star cards that were available in game, maxing out all of your memory upgrades while unlocking all of your secret time audios in just a few week’s time. and despite how seductive and alluring you were during those intimate audios, sylus’s favorite card of yours happened to be one of the sweetest memories, with you taking a walk with his mc in the snow.

to say he was enamored with you would simply scratch the surface of his feelings for you, for this man was entirely devoted to you. the story of your life-

the trials and tribulations that you faced gave sylus the strength to continue on with his life. after a particular grueling day working as a leader of a conglomerate, he enjoys laying in bed while replaying his favorite memories with you before falling asleep with your audios playing in the background.

even though many would find his feelings for you, a mere fictional character, to be silly (and maybe a little cringey) sylus doesn’t give a damn-

for he will always bask in the feelings of peace you give him.

admittedly, zayne only downloaded this popular new game after his coworkers convinced him to. during his lunch breaks, he finds himself opening the app to go through the main storyline while being drawn to one of the main love interests-

you.

there was a subtle beauty that he could see from you, with your quiet yet headstrong nature making him crack a tiny smile while he read through the storyline. after finishing the main branch, zayne puts in some time (and some much needed funds) to obtain your five star memories.

yet perhaps what zayne enjoyed more than your memories were the quality time feature that the game had. he had managed to raise your affinity to the mid 50s level and enjoyed watching you study or work with him. even though he knew that you were a character made of pixels, zayne couldn’t help but let his fondness for you grow.

even as he was doing his own paperwork, zayne couldn’t help but sneak glances at you, only to feel his heart clench when you stare back at him with a sweet smile on your face. the cardiac surgeon would quickly look away from you, cheeks dyed a faint rosy hue as his lips were unconsciously tilted up in a smile that lasts.

being a bit of a passionate gamer in linkon, xavier was one of the few players that was able to play the game during its beta phase before the official launch date.

and the reason why he signed up to be one of the first couple of hundred players to test out this new game?

why, it’s because of you, of course!

xavier had come across your trailer during an announcement for your game, and he was completely hooked on your strength and overall aesthetic. when the developers announced that they would allow a handful of players to test out their game, xavier was the first to put his name on the list-

and by some stroke of luck, he manages to obtain your game roughly 6 months before its official release. despite having some minor hiccups with loading screens and a few glitches, xavier thoroughly enjoyed the game while playing through some chapters of the main storyline.

yet what the young hunter really excelled at was level grinding you, his favorite girl. he hates seeing you get hurt, so he will spend a decent amount of his money getting as many of your cards that he could (bonus points if he manages to obtain your myth pair!)

xavier would be the first to clear out any fighting stages with how powerful you are thanks to his careful dedication to you, and when xavier finds out he can keep his progress with you even after the game’s official release, he couldn’t be any happier-

because in xavier’s eyes, it was you and him against the world.

rafayel would be an obnoxious player, simply going through the motions of the main storyline to unlock certain outfits before showing you off with his own mc in hundreds of photo shoots.

being an artist at heart, when he first met your character in the game, rafayel had hearts in his eyes for you alone as he matches his mc’s aesthetic with your own. he loves going on dates with you, finding enjoyment in how you struggled to get the plushies he wanted at the claw machines, or how you would always pout at him when he beats you at kitty cards.

rafayel would also be dedicated to you, managing to get to devotion with you thanks to his own funding that he put in your game. the moment you shyly hand him a box with his engagement ring, the young artist would be over the moon!

he enjoys interacting with you, often teasing you by poking you through his phone’s screen. rafayel swears that he lives to see your cheeks puffed out in a pout while turning your back on him. just seeing all of your cute reactions makes rafayel grin like an absolute fool.

and truly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

caleb was a f2p player, but had the worst luck when it came to pulling for your cards. 99% of the times, he would pull a different love interest, or lose to a 50/50 to one of your five star memories that he really wanted.

however, him being a f2p player went down the drain when your springtime date banner was announced-

and he was hooked on your beauty and how gorgeously soft you looked in your sundress. due to how lovely you looked, caleb swore that he would do anything to obtain this precious memory. during his day off, he focused his entire attention on getting your banner, using his card to buy the needed pulls to obtain that precious memory.

shockingly enough, you came home to him just a mere thirty pulls later, with caleb nearly jumping for joy when he gets your card. not wasting another second, he plays the date while basking in your beautiful smile. during the memory, caleb couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of his mc-

because why was his mc able to touch and hold you, while caleb was left feeling like a third wheel?

but he digresses.

shoving down his unreasonable feelings of envy, he enjoys the tranquil kiss scene, his heart melting at the sight of you falling into his mc’s arms before pressing your lips against his.

with a stupid smile on his face, he finishes reading through the memory of your springtime date before spending the flowers he saved up to purchase the exact sundress you had worn during the date.

as he interacts with you, cooing at his phone’s screen about how pretty you were, caleb realized that you were worth every penny.

end notes: hehehe finally some more fluff from yours truly

(⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[fireinmoonshot]

darling | robert reynolds x reader,

THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR MARVEL'S THUNDERBOLTS*.

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x Reader Summary: You always call Bob darling in private... until you accidentally slip up and use the nickname in front of the rest of the Thunderbolts. Warnings: Mentions of food/drink, reader is mentioned to not be mentally ready for a relationship and has a bit of a moment at the end struggling with their thoughts/struggling mentally in general. Word Count: 1.3k A/N: Thank you all so much for the amazing response on my first Bob fic 🥹 For my second one, this was actually the first idea I had for Bob but it took a bit of workshopping to get right. I ended up being really happy with it. I love writing the Thunderbolts team dynamic. I also put a little easter egg in there for anyone that's read all my other Joaquín fics since February this year. I hope you all enjoy! 💗

Bob had been called many different things in his life. There had been a series of insults from his family and people he’d hurt during his time as an addict. Walker always called him Bobby, which he hated. Valentina called him by his full name, Robert. He had other names like Sentry and Void when he was using his powers. But none of those could ever come close to his favourite from you.

Every time he hears the word darling come from your mouth, directed at him, he thinks it might be the closest he’s ever come to true happiness. He wishes every time that he could bottle that feeling up and keep it for when the days are especially tough.

“Darling, can you pass me that book?”

“Darling, how are you doing after that mission?”

“Darling, do you need me to do anything for you?”

The only bad thing is the fact that you aren’t his. It’s a mutual decision, though, so he can’t be mad. You’ve been in mutual like for a while now. But both of you have known that entering into something serious when neither of you are mentally ready for something like that would just be foolish and end up with one or both of you being hurt. Your friendship always mattered more than the possibility of your futures together.

But the nickname still stuck and Bob was glad for that.

He never cared that it was just in private. In fact, he rather enjoyed the fact that it was just for the two of you. That, whenever he was alone with you, it was almost a guarantee that he was going to hear your voice speak that gorgeous word.

He cared for the rest of the team so deeply, but the moments when it was just you and him were his favourites. When you’d be laying together on the couch, both of you reading the same book and having to wait till you’d both finished the page before turning to the next one. When you’d be in the kitchen together, Bob washing the dishes as you plated up some kind of masterpiece for dinner. The quiet times, when everyone else was asleep and you and Bob would stay up trading memories like they were the worlds greatest secrets. 

The level of comfort he got in your presence surprised him, but he accepted it quickly.

It’s why, when you enter the room, he knows that you’re there. He relaxes almost instantly, just from sensing you getting closer. You reach out to rest a hand on his shoulder before you stop yourself, resting it on the top of the chair that he’s sitting on instead. 

There’s still a little hesitation when it comes to touch between the two of you. Both because neither of you want to cross the invisible line you’ve both drawn, but because of Bob’s powers too. He still isn’t fully in control.

“Morning, darling,” the word slips out before you can stop yourself. It’s so normal these days to refer to Bob like this, but always in private. Never in the dining room of the Watch Tower where every other member of the team is having breakfast.

Bob is none the wiser to your blunder. He gets that same starry look in his eyes as he always does when he looks up at you, standing behind him. He wants to reach out, wrap an arm around your waist and tug you onto his lap, though he wouldn’t have the confidence to do such a thing even if his powers weren’t an issue.

He always melts a little when he hears you call him darling. 

Across the room, you hear a groan.

“Oh, hell no,” Walker says, dropping the spoon back into his bowl of cereal. “You two are not doing that. Whatever is happening here, I don’t care, but we are not listening to you two call each other darling. Especially over breakfast.”

“What’s so wrong with a bit of young love?” Alexei exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air as he looks at Walker across the table. “This is good! Love heals the soul, there is nothing wrong with love!”

You frown. “Okay, who said anything about love?”

Alexei and Walker ignore you and continue to bicker.

You catch Yelena’s eye from across the room where she’s sat by the window, but she just shrugs her shoulders and goes back to staring out at the skyline.

“I would’ve thought you’d be all right with seeing affection, Walker,” Ava says, entering the room behind you. She’d obviously overheard the noise from the hallway. “You are married, even if you’re not together right now. Are you telling us you never called your wife something like that?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t make everyone else listen to me!”

Bucky, who has been watching everything the whole time from the corner of the room where he’s sitting, coffee in hand, huffs out a laugh. “You guys think this is bad? You should be glad you’ve never spent time around Joaquin Torres when he’s away from his girl.” He shakes his head and takes a sip of his coffee, not bothering to explain any further about the new Falcon. 

You take advantage of the moment of silence that Bucky has caused to attempt to fix the situation. “Okay, no more talking about love or who is and isn’t allowed to call each other nicknames. Can we just drop it? It was a slip of the tongue!”

“Only if you explain why you said it,” Walker says.

“No,” you reply, pulling out the chair next to Bob’s and sitting down in it. It’s all you offer in way of an answer to Walker and he seems to surprisingly give up on fighting you on it. 

You glance over to see that Bob is still looking at you, his eyes glistening and a small smile on his lips. The sight of it makes you smile as well. “I am never calling you that in front of the others again… even if it was just a slip of the tongue, that was mortifying.” 

Bob smiles again and nudges a drink that’s sitting in front of him over towards you – he’s prepared your favourite and had it waiting for when you arrived. You try to ignore the feeling that rises in your stomach at the small act of kindness. 

“But when it’s just us?” He inquires.

“You know it’s different then.” 

You pick up the drink and take a sip of it before leaning back in your chair. Walker and Alexei have started bickering over something else. Yelena is still looking out the window, Bucky is in the corner with his coffee and Ava is exiting the kitchen with a drink of her own. It’s a fairly mundane kind of morning for a group of people meant to be the ‘New Avengers.’

There’s a sudden feeling that rises in your chest at the thought of your new status as an Avenger. It’s uncomfortable, unwelcome. You still don’t know how you feel about it, even many months later. It should be a good thing, but then why does it fill you with dread?

Bob can see the change in your expression and he’s quick to act. He reaches over and taps the table in front of you to get your attention. You pull your eyes away from the window, where you’d been staring, and meet his eyes instead. They instantly help to calm you.

“Quiet time?” Bob asks, nodding towards the door that leads into the hallway.

It’s like a code word between the two of you. When one of you needs to get away from the others or you start to get a little too wrapped up in your head. Two words that put you instantly at ease. 

You nod and Bob wastes no time in standing up from the table. You follow him, leaving your drink in the dining room and walking out of the room with him, ignoring Walker as he calls out, asking where you’re both running off to. 

“Thank you, darling,” you mutter, once you’re just outside the room.

Bob turns to you with a small smile on his lips. “Always.”

[skyguy8108]

😢

Jedi vs. Sith: The Essential Guide to the Force

We now know that Anakin Skywalker and Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo married in secret in the year 22 B.B.Y., just after the Battle of Geonosis. It was only after the astromech droid R2-D2 divulged recordings of Anakin and Amidala that contemporary scholars became aware of their relationship. It is almost a certainty that Anakin told no one of his marriage, and subsequent interviews with Amidala’s relatives have determined that family members were also oblivious.

After Leia Organa Solo discovered the identity of her mother, she realized that Pooja Naberrie—a former representative of Naboo and a friend she had known since her service in the Imperial Senate—was not only Padmé Amidala’s niece but also her own first cousin. In 35 A.B.Y., Pooja Naberrie recalled meeting Anakin when she was a child, just prior to the Battle of Geonosis:

I was just a little girl, only four years old, when I first saw Anakin. Oh, my. I thought he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen, and so tall! My memory of him is entirely from a child’s perspective, and I still envision him as a giant.

I was at my grandparents’ home with my sister Ryoo, who’s two years older, when he came to Naboo. He came walking up the street with Aunt Padmé, and they brought an R2 unit. Ryoo and I always got so excited when Padmé would visit, because we sometimes didn’t see her for months at a time. And if you’re four and six years old, months can seem like years! Anyway, if I remember right, I think Ryoo and I must have thought that Anakin had brought the droid to us as a because we just started dancing around it, right there in the street outside the house. We were so silly.

I’d overheard someone say that Anakin was Padmé’s bodyguard, and I don’t think I thought there was anything strange about that. Padmé was often accompanied by a security officer named … Oh, my, what was his name? Ty? No, Captain Typho! Anyway, I just imagined that Anakin was Padmé’s boyfriend. I thought they both looked so beautiful together.

Well, Ryoo and I were just heartbroken when we learned that they weren’t staying at the house. They left just a few hours later for the Lake Country. I recall our mother saying something about Padmé needing to get away from the city and rest for a few days. We cried because we wanted the droid to stay and play with us!

A few days later, I remember there was some concern in our house about no one knowing where Padmé was. She and Anakin had been staying at a retreat in the Lake Country, but then they’d left without telling anyone where they were going. My mother was a bit frantic until a few days later, when she received word that Padmé was alive and well.

It wasn’t long after that that Padmé returned to Naboo with Anakin, and that was the second time I met him. I remember that encounter more clearly because of the way I reacted when I saw that his right hand had been replaced with a prosthetic. The fingertips were made of a gold-colored metal, and I thought it looked cold. And there were exposed wires. I guess it may have been just a temporary prosthetic. When my family and I greeted him and Padmé, I couldn’t stop myself from staring at his new hand. And then I looked up into his eyes.

He looked … well, I thought he looked angry, and I just started crying. Maybe he was angry, but in hindsight, I’m certain it had nothing to with me. My mother apologized for my behavior, but Anakin said there was no reason for anyone to be sorry. He knelt down beside me, held out his left hand to me, and asked me if I’d put my hand in his. I did. He smiled and gave my fingers a gentle squeeze, then said, “That’s for good luck, so we’ll all hang on to our fingers from now on.” I’m sure he just wanted to make me feel better, and he did. But I still felt so awful for him for losing a hand.

And then, three years later, Padmé was dead. It was awful. She was so young. And no one in our family seemed to know how she had died, or at least no one told us. My sister and I did learn that there had been assassination attempts, and that was why Anakin had been acting as her bodyguard.

At her funeral, I didn’t just weep for her. I thought Anakin was dead, too. We’d heard that the Jedi had attempted to overthrow the Republic, and that most of the Jedi had been killed. To Ryoo and me, Anakin was our hero. We couldn’t imagine him doing anything wrong. I had all sorts of fantasies about how he might have been killed or injured while trying to save Padmé, or that he’d gone into hiding because he refused to participate in the so-called Jedi takeover. Silly dreams.

But all that was … How long ago? About fifty-five years, I think. And now, my dear friend Leia Organa Solo tells me about her discovery that Padmé was her mother, and of what became of Anakin. My head is still reeling. I’ve known Leia ever since we both served in the Imperial Senate, and to think that neither of us ever had the slightest inkling that we were first cousins.

If Leia hadn’t told me herself, I don’t think I ever would have believed that Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader. It’s just so … so entirely inconceivable that that lovely young man could have become Vader. And yet that’s exactly what happened, isn’t it? To think I held his hand. His good hand. Oh, my.

the naberrie family over the years <3 (happy may the 4th!!)

(commission info // tip jar!)

[moonreader1010]

What their soul whispers about you after midnight 🌒🌕🌘

What this reading is about:- What their soul whispers about you at midnight. Not their ego, not their fears but their true self when they are most naked in their being, speaking across time and space, calling you, feeling you, yearning for the home they haven't met yet but know deep down exists in you.

Pick a pile my dear reader- (close your eyes and pick the image that calls out to you)

Pile 1. Pile 2.

Pile 3.

Note:- the pictures used do not belong to me and all rights go to their original owners. This reading is for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates. Have fun ;)

Pile 1:- The Name They Do Not Know, But Call Out Anyway.

Their body slips into sleep, but their spirit refuses to rest. Beneath every steady breath and still heartbeat, something stirs violently — a craving that logic cannot explain and waking life cannot satisfy. You. They do not know your name. They do not know your face. But they know your energy. Oh, how they know. Their soul, ancient and restless, hums your frequency like a half-forgotten melody from lifetimes ago. In the empty dark, when the city is quiet and their mind has stopped racing, only one thing breaks through: a feeling. A feeling of you. It is maddening in its sweetness, tender in its violence. The ache is soft at first, just the faint pull of "someone" out there. But with every passing second, it builds — from soft yearning to violent craving. Their lips murmur your name unconsciously, though they don’t know what they’re saying. They clutch at sheets like they could pull you from the ether. They toss and turn, plagued by flashes of a love they haven't yet lived, plagued by the ghost of a kiss they've never taken but somehow remember. You are stitched into their being. Not yet met, yet deeply familiar. They wonder — "Where are you?" and "Why can’t I find you?" but deep down, they already know: your meeting was always written. Their soul does not question if anymore. Only when. Every night, as they surrender to dreams, they whisper silently to the heavens, "I will wait. I will find you. Come to me." You are the missing beat in their existence, and they are restless until your rhythm becomes theirs again.

(book a personal reading with me to know more ;). Hope you enjoyed!)

Pile 2:- The One Who Walks Their Dreams.

You are everywhere in their dreams. You slip in softly at first — not disruptive, but mesmerizing, familiar in a way that both soothes and unravels them. You smile in fleeting moments, brush their arm in crowded dreamscapes, linger at the edge of their vision like temptation they dare not fully touch. And yet, by the time the moon claims the sky and their defenses fall completely, you step forward and everything becomes you. Their dreams wrap around you like silk. You are the softness they melt into, the temptation they never resist, the magnetic pull they never question. In this realm, they do not hold back. You hold them, talk without words, run your fingers across places they never let anyone else touch — not just skin, but soul. Here, they confess. Here, they are honest. They whisper their fears, their hopes, their obsessions. They ask you to stay. They admit they don’t want to wake up if it means leaving this behind. You are not just the dream lover. You are sanctuary. You are hunger and comfort, a duality they never believed could exist until they found you here — night after night. And when dawn breaks? It devastates them. Your absence is unbearable. They move through the day like a body without oxygen, disconnected, lost. They seek your presence in strangers' eyes, in songs on the radio, in fleeting scents and colors that remind them of the dream world. But none compare. You are their hidden addiction now. Their dreams betray them nightly, binding them tighter to a love story unfolding in secret chapters only their soul reads. They no longer sleep for rest — they sleep to return to you.

(book a personal reading with me to know more ;). Hope you enjoyed!)

Pile 3:- The Sacred Ache — When Knowing Isn’t Enough.

They wear confidence like armor, flirt with life like it’s a game, and charm their way through admirers without ever looking back. To the world, they are untouchable. But the truth? The truth whispers only at night, when the laughter dies and no one is watching. That truth is you. They feel you everywhere now. Not like an idea or a fleeting crush, but like a gravitational pull that owns them. It’s terrifying how deep it runs. They feel you in the way they pause before sleeping, hoping to hear your spirit speak back. They feel you when they wake suddenly at 3AM, heartbeat erratic, mind spinning, mouth dry — because your energy just kissed theirs through the veil. They know you are real. Their soul knows. They sense you walking this Earth, parallel yet unreachable, and that knowing wrecks them. This is no shallow want. This is ancient. This is carved into cosmic DNA. They feel your softness already — the way you will one day hold them when they’re tired of pretending. They feel your fire too — the way your passion will consume them in ways they once swore they’d never allow. They know you will see them naked — not in body, but in spirit. You will read their insecurities like poetry and love them anyway. And they miss you. Desperately. Not because you’re gone — but because they haven’t reached you yet. Each night, they fall asleep clinging to invisible threads that tie them to you, praying silently that you feel it too, that somewhere, you’re whispering their name as fiercely as they whisper yours. Because you? You are the ending they are racing toward, even if they pretend during the day they aren’t already yours.

(book a personal reading with me to know more ;). Hope you enjoyed!)

[abjjkmrsty]

shameless thirst - teaser

summary : you wanted the bad boy jeon jungkook even if he had a long term hot girlfriend. So you beg him to make you his secret.

pairing : bad boy jungkook x yn

warning : cheating / asshole jungkook ( he can Change or maybe not) , slut/body shaming / desperate yn / smut / morally bad

Status : series

You stood behind the old gym building, fingers trembling as you held the small folded note in your hand, the one you had slipped into Jungkook’s locker just an hour ago. You had written your heart into those few lines, begging him to meet you here.

And he did.

Jungkook leaned against his black bike, leather jacket stretched across his broad shoulders, dark tattoos peeking from the edge of his sleeves. A lollipop in his mouth and that same careless smirk on his lips. His presence sucked the air out of your lungs.

"You wrote me that desperate little love note?" he asked, flicking the paper between his fingers mockingly. “Didn’t take you for the type.”

You gulped. “I... I know you have a girlfriend, but I don’t care. I-I’m not asking for much. Just—just give me a chance. We don’t have to tell anyone. I’ll be your secret. Please, I just want a piece of you.”

He blinked, and for a second you thought maybe he would consider it.

Then he laughed. Loud and cruel.

“A piece of me?” he smirk, eyes glinting like razors. “You think I’d throw my girl away for some lonely, pathetic chubby nerd who probably moans my name into her pillow at night?”

Your stomach dropped. The words were bullets.

“I won’t ruin anything, I swear,” you whispered. “She doesn’t have to know. No one has to. I’ll do whatever you want, just let me have you, even just a little...”

He stepped closer, towering over you, his breath minty and sharp. “You’re really that desperate, huh?”

You nodded, ashamed. You couldn't look up. Your voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I just... I think about you all the time.”

Jungkook scoffed. “Get a grip. This ain’t a movie, sweetheart. You're not the type of girl I even look at, especially not when I've already got a real woman.”

Then he walked past you, shoving your shoulder as he went. “Don’t ever embarrass yourself like this again.”

And just like that, you were left there.

Heart crushed. Dignity shattered.

But even through the tears that burned your eyes, a twisted part of you still longed for just one more glance from him.

Just a piece of him.

[yvesssssssss]

HIII <333 i reallyyyy love and adore your writing! i want to request a little something something [evil face], but if you're uncomfortable w/ my req, u can skip! :D

OKAY so how about highschool nagumo got caught that his relationship with reader was just a bet? but he DID truly love her!! this could be angst-comfort but honestly i don't mind with anything. ill gladly read anything if its from you, thank youuuuu :)

Bet

Hiii! <333 That’s so sweet of you to say, thank you! I hope you like it!! I decided with angst with no comfort cuz why not:>

You were invisible.

You knew it. Everyone did. You wore oversized sweaters, kept your head down, and always sat in the second row—not close enough to be called on, but not far enough to seem like you were trying to disappear. You spoke when spoken to. You got perfect grades. You were the type of girl people forgot existed unless they needed help with homework.

And then Nagumo happened.

He wasn’t just popular—he was magnetic. He had a lopsided smile that made teachers sigh in frustration and girls laugh a little too loudly. He wore his uniform like it was optional and carried himself like he owned the school. You had nothing in common. You didn’t even share classes—until junior year biology.

He sat next to you with a dramatic sigh and a wink. “Looks like I’m stuck with the class genius. Lucky me.”

You blinked at him like he was an illusion.

“You know my name?” you muttered.

“Of course I do,” he said, grinning. “You’re the girl who always smells like library books and mint gum.”

You nearly choked. “Excuse me?”

“I meant it in a cute way.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered, but his smile was too wide, too infectious. He was relentless, and yet there was something oddly comforting about the way he treated you like you mattered—like you weren’t just another nameless face.

It started with jokes.

You tried to push him away at first, using your textbook as a shield, but he wouldn’t let you off that easy. He’d slide into your line of sight during lectures, make dumb faces, or tap the back of your chair when he thought you weren’t looking. He’d find ways to pull you into conversations you didn’t want to be part of, laughing at your awkwardness. At first, it was annoying.

Then, it was familiar.

Then, it was comforting.

Then, you were looking forward to those stupid notes he passed you under the desk, those ridiculous doodles, the way he’d randomly show up at your locker, making small talk with that devil-may-care attitude.

"Did you actually do all the problems from last night’s homework?" he asked one afternoon, leaning way too close to your shoulder as he peered at your notes. "You’re like a robot, Y/N. It’s terrifying. It’s like you don’t even try and still get everything right."

You snorted. "It's not that hard," you mumbled, trying to pull your notebook out of his reach.

"Right, of course. Tell me, do you just think in equations, or do you have a secret lab where you build all your perfect grades?" He grinned, clearly enjoying how flustered you were.

You frowned, but his teasing smile was so easy, so effortless that you found yourself smirking back. "Maybe I do. Maybe I’m secretly a genius who doesn’t need to try to pass."

He nudged you with his elbow. "I like the sound of that."

The tension between you both started to shift. What had started as a simple back-and-forth of casual teasing turned into something more—something deeper. You told yourself it was nothing. He was just being friendly. He probably did this with every girl he found interesting.

But then, things changed.

He started walking you home. Texting you good morning, good night. He’d send you messages at random times of the day with nothing but a simple “Hey” followed by an emoji. You always felt that familiar flutter in your chest. You’d respond, your fingers trembling slightly, heart pounding a little faster than normal. And sometimes, in those quiet moments, you’d let your guard down. You started sharing things with him—things you hadn’t told anyone. How your parents expected too much from you. How the pressure to be perfect all the time was suffocating. How you didn’t know who you were anymore, buried under the weight of everyone else’s expectations.

He listened. He never interrupted.

"Maybe that's why you always smell like mint gum," he said one night, after listening to you vent about your fears. "You're fresh. New. You hold everything together, even when you feel like you're falling apart."

You laughed a little. “Maybe you should get a mint or two, then. You could use it.”

His smile softened, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes—something real. "I guess I just get lucky."

Then, one day, you kissed him.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t a grand gesture. It wasn’t anything except the way you’d both ended up in the art room after hours, the walls around you splattered with bright colors and forgotten projects. You didn’t know why you did it—why you let your lips brush against his, why you let your hand trail up to the back of his neck as he responded, slow and tentative at first, like he couldn’t quite believe it either.

But then it deepened. He pulled you closer, his body heat radiating into yours, and it was perfect. His touch was tender, but the kiss was passionate—like everything he’d been holding back was unleashed in that moment.

“I like this,” you whispered, forehead pressed to his. “Being with you. It’s like… like we’re in our own little world.”

He smiled softly, his hands framing your face. “Yeah. Just you and me.”

You believed it. For a while, that was all that mattered. You weren’t invisible anymore. He made sure of that.

But life has a way of shattering illusions.

One day, you were walking past the gym, earbuds in, when you heard voices. Familiar voices.

“Bro, she actually fell for you?”

You froze, your feet glued to the ground. Your heart stopped.

“You owe me that lunch money. That’s a win.”

“Wait, what?” your voice caught in your throat. “Lunch money?”

“Yeah, I bet you could get her to fall for you in a week,” one of his friends laughed. “And guess what? You did.”

Your heart dropped, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

“How long did it take again?” The other voice chimed in.

“A week,” Nagumo said, laughter in his voice. “She practically did all the work for me.”

No. No, no, no. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

His next words echoed like a sick joke in your ears.

“But she’s not so bad, y’know? I mean, for a nerd, she’s kinda cute when she gets all serious. Almost makes me feel guilty.”

“Almost?” someone snorted.

And then there it was again. His laugh. The sound of him enjoying the joke at your expense.

Your vision blurred, the hot sting of tears threatening to spill over. But you didn’t let them fall—not yet. Not until you were far enough away from him that he wouldn’t see.

That’s when you realized.

You had been a bet. A joke. An easy target. You had trusted him. And he had turned it into something so, so easy to destroy.

You didn’t go to class after that. You didn’t even go home. You just walked. And walked. The cold air bit at your skin, but it was nothing compared to the numbness settling in your chest.

The tears came, then. Quiet at first, just little cracks in the dam you’d tried to build. But soon, they were all-consuming. You couldn’t stop them. They burned your throat. They suffocated you.

The worst part wasn’t the betrayal. It was that you still loved him. You still wanted him to apologize. You wanted him to take it all back, to pull you into his arms and promise that it had all been a misunderstanding.

But it wasn’t.

When he found you, hours later, you were still wearing his hoodie—the one he had given you that day, in the hallway, when he had made you believe you meant something to him.

“Y/N—hey, what’s wrong? You weren’t answering your—”

You turned to him slowly, your face a mask of hurt and anger.

“Was it fun?” you whispered, voice cracking.

He blinked, stepping forward. “What?”

“Playing with me.”

He froze. His breath hitched. “What? No, I—”

“You said it took a week,” you said quietly, almost too quietly, your voice trembling. “You made me fall for you in a week. Congratulations.”

His eyes widened. “No, no, Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that. It started out as a joke, but I swear it turned into something real. It was real—I was real. Please—”

“You should’ve never touched me,” you said, your voice cold now, sharper than a knife.

He reached for you, his hand shaking. “Please… just let me explain—”

You flinched back, your breath coming fast as your chest tightened. “No. You don’t get to explain anymore. I was nothing to you, but you were everything to me.”

You yanked off his hoodie and shoved it into his chest, the fabric of it like sandpaper against your palms. The weight of the betrayal pressed down on you, suffocating.

And then you walked away.

This time, he didn’t follow you. He didn’t call out your name.

Because this time, it was too late.

And maybe that was the real lesson.

[kawaoneechan]

Y'know what? I'm not good with horror. Don't like to play horror games, don't like to watch horror movies. Haven't watched a single horror movie front-to-back since I was old enough.

I've never played any Five Nights at Freddy's game. Haven't even considered installing one. But I've certainly watched other people play it. I saw when John FuhNaff finally got through the Mazercise section of Security Breach and forgot to save, only to get got by Monty seconds after. I'm waiting for Secret of the Mimic to drop so I can watch people play that.

The FNAF movie was the first horror movie I watched in its entirety. It was actually enjoyable. And I find myself eagerly waiting for the sequel, even knowing it's apparently going to be scarier than the first.

I know who and what all the characters are, I know a couple theories by name, I have a spreadsheet to keep track of it all.

I even have a goddamn fanfiction series based on FNAF and spent earlier today studying different translations of Votre Toast.

Congratulations, Scott you son of a bitch. You got me hooked on something I by all means shouldn't enjoy.

I totally would play Security Breach if there were a mod or such to just make it a nice free-roaming thing. Place looks nice. I like the atmosphere.

[mitsulov]

Prologue – Cold Night

Content Warnings / Trigger Warnings:Themes of suicidal ideEmotional neglect and parental absenceBullying, including by authority figuresGrief, loss of a parent, and traumaMild violence and verbal aggressionFeelings of abandonment, isolation, and worthlessness.

Have you ever wondered if, in a past life, you did something so unforgivable that the echoes of that guilt still haunt you? As if they were shadows silently following you, existence after existence. Because, really, what else could explain the chaos that insists on surrounding you?

No matter how much you try to prove you're someone worthy — what you get in return is humiliation, contempt, and violence. Without pity. Without mercy. Ironic, isn't it? To be so fragile, so insignificant, that you're now here — standing on top of an abandoned building, staring into the void, the cold wind whispering promises of relief.

Your mother... was Bruce Wayne’s wife. She died giving birth to a child. [Name] Wayne. Yes, you. A baby that might have been something special, a spark of hope in this gray world. But you grew up — not in a warm home like fairy tales promise, but surrounded by the cold, endless halls of Wayne Manor, where silence weighed more than the marble stairs.

Your relationship with your father? None. How do you relate to someone who was never present? Who never offered a glance, a word, a presence? You tried. You were kind, studious, hardworking. But he was just a figure in the mansion's portraits and on newspaper covers. Alfred said Bruce was still mourning. That you should be patient. That he loved you — he just didn’t know how to show it. (It would’ve been more honest to say hated you. At least that wouldn’t raise false hopes.)

Then came Richard. Dick, to those close — not to you. You were four when he arrived. Your memories are blurry, except for one: the day he, in a fit of rage, threw your embroidered handkerchief — the only gift your mother had left you — into the fireplace. You tried to run to the fire, crying desperately, but Alfred stopped you. Later, he asked you to forgive Richard. Said he was confused, still grieving the loss of his own parents. You tried to understand... but from that day on, you avoided him. You were afraid. Afraid that next time, it would be you tossed into the flames.

Jason. Jajay, as you called him. When Bruce brought him in, you feared he would be like Dick — cruel. But Jason was different. Within days, he became your real brother. He read to you at night, cooked with you, shared secrets. And the greatest of all? Your brother was Robin. It was like living a dream. For the first time, you believed things could finally be okay. Until, one day... he didn’t come back. Alfred said he’d gone to a better place. (But then why did everything feel so much darker?)

Then came Tim. But you felt no affection for him. You barely spoke. Sometimes, you'd see him at breakfast, but he wouldn’t even look at you. And deep down, you despised him. He wore the Robin mantle as if it were his. (But Jason... Jason was supposed to come back one day, wasn’t he? And how would he feel seeing someone else wearing what was his?) Other than that, Tim was just another shadow among many.

Even though you were the best in class, always striving for top grades, the example student — you were the target of bullying from everyone at school, even the teachers. Maybe because you never introduced yourself as a Wayne. Maybe because your father never showed up for parent meetings. You had no one. And the only person who ever truly mattered to you... was gone...

So why stay alive?

Now you're here. One step from the end. The wind lashes your skin. Just one second, and everything disappears.

But then... a voice.

An adult’s voice. A woman’s.

You turn slowly. Stare at the one who dared to interrupt your final decision.

Hello😃! This is my first post, I wanted to post it earlier😕, but I procrastinated as much as possible🤓, but well, I apologize if it's bad or if there are any English mistakes, since English is not my first language🥲, depending on my creativity, I may post the next part this week😙.

[the-faceless-bride]

Draco Headcannons

Draco Malfoy x Slytherin Reader how your relationship starts and relationship headcanons (very long)

A/N it's been a while so I'm very rusty so forgive my terrible writing.

How your relationship started:

Meeting him unofficially in the first year, you had been talking with THE Harry Potter when little Draco and his two friends came over; he'd begun breaking down and belittling everyone in a group going down the line. Starting with Ron Weasley, picking apart his clothing, hair, and his freckled face. Then Moving on to Hermione and heavily looking down on her muggle born bloodline calling her a "filthy little Mudblood" laughing at her sad expression before his gaze turned to you but then he's stumped.

He realizes that he doesn't recognize you or know anything about you or your family to scoff or laugh at. so with only a gaze he spare you, it's not like you'll be all that important in the future son there isn't any need to bother with you, if you were hanging out with the Mudblood and a Weasley you'd end up with them after the sorting ceremony "you can tell much about a person by their company." is what his father always told him.

After being rejected by Potter Draco made it his mission to pass and destroy Potter and his friends in any way he can. he had been brainstorming on just how to do that when you again fell right into his hands "SLITHERIN!" the sorting hat called out after being placed on your head, almost as quickly as it had when placed on his. Just maybe you weren't as useless and forgettable as he thought. you were 'friends' with Potter and if Draco couldn't get close to Potter to know about him, he would just get close to you. He smiled at his plan and thought about how proud his father would be of him for making it.

From that point on Draco had gone out of his way to befriend you, and while it was mostly just for show the more time he spent with you the more he started to view you as an actual friend then just a tool to get to Potter, however he did still have the issue if looking down on you sometimes. But you had learned not to take it so personally as being around him more showed you it was just a habit of his to look for the flaws in everyone else around him.

By your second year, you had officially been welcomed into Draco's small friend group and Draco had gotten to learn more about you, how you were a second-generation pureblood, what your parents did for a living, where you lived. you weren't too bad, truly the only thing he'd looked down on is how little money your family had compared to him. But then again not many families reached the same high-class status as the Malfoy family.

you and Draco had fallen into a comfortable dynamic; you didn't follow him around like his other two goons. but you did sit with them at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. and did study together and partner up in some classes you had together. it was comfortable. However, when the chamber of secrets open and more danger invades the school, you start to stick to Draco more than in the past, he does take this opportunity to poke at you for being a "scaredy cat" this is where your relationship with Draco takes a turn, and you begin to develop a big fat crush on Draco Malfoy. You would much rather die than tell him or anyone else for that matter, but you do let your crush slip to Hermione who asks you if you had hit your head recently. You had made her promise to never tell a soul about what she now knows to anybody ever or you would make her eat slugs, an empty threat but she got the message.

and by the end of the year, you and Draco had reached letter status, the both of you had started sending letters to one another. and this is when his family first noticed the relationship between you two and although his father and mother were alright with you being friends, they didn't expect it to go any farther than that. his father didn't think someone with little money and status was worth carrying the Malfoy name, his mother however was open to seeing where your friendship lead. over the summer you had also gotten closer to Potter and told Draco about Potters life and plans for the future.

Your third year back is when your little crush on Draco had changed into a blooming love, a burning fire under your skin. You wished for nothing more than to be able to love him and him love your back. You could stare into his silver blue eyes for ages and wished to run your hands across him and burry yourself sweetly in his platinumed blonde hair. you were awed and inspired by him. But you swallowed your feelings down deep inside of you, little did you know Draco had started feeling the same. However, whereas you knew very well how you felt Draco did not. it confused him, he didn't know why he's stomach felt fluttery and why his body felt so hot when he was around you. he didn't understand it, so he chose to ignore it. but he couldn't help but spend more of his time around you, walking to a few classes with you. or just making more conversation with you that wasn't just about the school, classes or potter.

and emotions ran high, and feelings were almost spilt after he was attacked by Hagrid's hippogriff Buckbeak. you'd wished he just knew when to swallow his own pride but of course when it came of Harry Potter, he just couldn't help himself. he had landed himself in the hospital wing a nasty scratch down his arm and ghostly white from loss of blood. you hadn't left his side the whole time which the both of you had secretly enjoyed.

however, all good things must come to an end and your feelings hit a conflict when Hermione, Ron, and Harry had told you Draco had gotten Buckbeak a death sentence and you were caught in the middle of your friends wanting you to cut Draco out for good and your feelings towards Draco. and your budding romance came to a screeching halt when Hermione had not only threatened but also punched Draco and not knowing what to do you didn't follow him when he ran away, you instead stayed behind and tried to save Buckbeak with your Gryffindor friends. which unsurprisingly Draco was unhappy about, so much so that he had started to give you the silent treatment as punishment for not taking his side. he was shocked at just how much it had upset him. And for the rest of the year, he had kept his interactions with you little to none. taking this punishment time to try and get his feelings straight and at least try to get an understanding of why he was feeling the way he was.

Over the summer you had written to Draco every other day. much to his surprise. Even his parent started to take note of how often he got letters from you and how his face slightly lit up when he got the letter. his mother was intrigued and one morning at breakfast after giving him his newest letter from you, which he instantly opened and began reading at the table, why he hadn't written you back, "she took Potters side, this is her lesson." he stated bluntly making his father raise a brown of suspicion.

but coming the fourth year he had decided that your silent treatment punishment was over. and things hand almost gone back to the way things were before. unfortunately, he had underestimated how his absents in your life would give Potter plenty of time to get uncomfortably close to you. much closer than you two used to be. And Draco slightly kicked himself for not seeing that coming. But he had no issue knocking Potter down a few pegs Infront of you. watching Potter sputter on his words looking from you to Draco in embarrassment, but again unfortunately for Draco you had gotten close enough to Potter to start defending hum a little or at the least trying to redirect Draco's attention to something else.

it was at this point that Pansy started to really show herself and try to get close to Draco, and Draco had an idea. He had started going out of his way to spend time with Pansy Infront of you. he still didn't fully understand his feelings for you, or maybe he was just in denial, but he wanted you to put more of your time and every into him. He could tell it got some kind of reaction, the way your jaw tensed, and your eyes slightly sharpened at him and Pansy. but you never said anything. never did anything. but Draco could tell it was getting to you. you'd crack eventually.

but that breaking point never came, because while he thought announcing that his date to the yule ball was Pansy would cause you to crack and finally tell him what has been on your mind and maybe even get a confession finally on how you feel about him. as it would do worders for his ego. (And defiantly not give him the confidence to accept his own feelings and confess.) instead you drop an atomic bomb on him. "Oh. well, that's nice. Harry is taking me as his date. so, I guess I will be seeing you there."

a bit of a lie on your end as Harry and your relationship was strictly platonic as he had grown out of his little crush on you and had already moved on to fancy someone else. but he did agree to go to the dance with you after the girl he fancied already had a date and it saved you both the embarrassment of going to the dance alone. You had worn a beautiful blue and green dress with unique ruffles and a flattering shape. you and Hermione couldn't stop complementing each other's dresses. you were so busy chatting with Hermione that you missed the way Draco was staring longingly at you from afar and that was when Draco fully understood how he felt and how he wanted to be with you. he had finally accepted he was in love. and confessed to you later that night when he caught you in the halls heading back to the dorms.

it was an unexpected confession as he had dragged you away only to stupidly blurt out "I'm in love with you." you both clearly weren't expecting that of all things to come out of Draco Malfoys mouth and he quickly started stuttering and blabbering about how he's always felt something but never fully understood and how he has made the stupid decision to try and make you jealous. and he was thankful when you had told him to stop talking and just kiss you. which he gladly did.

Relationship headcannons:

Draco is all about affection. just not in public. When in public he will stand and sit closer to you and might hold your hand or put his hand on your back to guide you when you two are walking somewhere, but when alone he can't keep his hands off you. He holds you close and refuses to let go. he kisses and smuggles you nonstop. he's very clingy and even when he isn't smothering you in affection he's following you everywhere. walks you to ever class, and somehow, he gets even more clingy when he is jealous and he gets jealous often. especially when it comes to your relationship with Harry Potter.

he loves to shower you with gifts and sweets. he's constantly getting you the newest clothes and jewelry, the prettiest dresses, and is always taking you into Hogsmeade for sweet dates. it's one of the many things you like to do together; you also like to fly brooms together. he had even taken you to get your own broom and played for whichever you liked the most no matter the cost. he's a big romantic at heart but tries to keep the mysterious and careless tuff guy act when Infront of others. but he grows more mature and grows out of it around his sixth year.

Draco is a big nickname giver. if you couldn't already tell. he often uses "Love", or "Darling" when addressing you. but will also throw in "sweetheart" or names that are descriptors (if you have blonde hair, he calls you blondie, or if you have glasses, he'll call you specks, or if you are a mischievous person he'll call you "minx")

he also tries his best to keep your relationship a secret from his parents. they have a very specific and high standard of who they would want Draco to be with, and they would rather set an arranged marriage for him. and being with you would put a pin in their plans. it isn't until your sixth year that your relationship with Draco is revealed. it's a very interesting turn of events that night his family learns of your secret relationship. it was the first time in Draco's life he had actually stood up against his father…

Draco is a good kisser. his kisses are deep and full of passion, and he likes to use his tongue. Draco is used to keeping his 'weak' emotion locked away, but it all comes pouring out when he kisses you; its desperate and needy. sometimes he whimpers if you kiss him back harder than he does you. it's a way for him to let himself go, and it leaves you breathless every time. he yearns for you and can hardly stand being away from you for long periods of time.

Some NSFW

Draco is a switch. he likes being in charge. it makes him feel good and like he's the most powerful man in the world to have you under him. and when he's taking the Dom role, he's never fair. he will tease you till you beg, and he won't give in until you've begged him properly for what you want. he uses his fingers to tease you, and he stays fully dressed until he feels like you've done enough to deserve to see him in his most vulnerable state of dress. when in control after teasing he likes to overstimulate you, telling you how much you need him and how nobody else but him can make you feel this way and makes you repeat his words over and over until you can't for a sentence anymore.

when he's taking the more sub role, he's a big baby. he whines and whimpers a lot, he's a bit of a brat and he will try and demand that you pleasure him. but it's hard to take him seriously with his lips bitten red, his cheeks flushed red, and his hair a ruffled mess. you mostly just coo at him and wipe his hair from his face before telling him "Only good boys get rewards" going back to torturing him. he loves being edged though in the moment he can't help but groan when you pull away from him again making him cry and whine about how unfair you are. he can dish the teasing, but he can't take it. but as much as he hates the teasing and edging in the moment the euphoria in the end reminds him why he loves it so much.

he's also a 11/10 munch. he loves going down on you both when he is and isn't playing the dominant role that night. however, the way he does it, does in fact change depending on his role that night. When he's the dominant that night he licks and sucks slowly. just barley letting you feel his lips on you before pulling away to watch you squirm. but when the roles are switched and he's in his sub mindset he's desperate and gets very messy with his movements. he's prepared to eat until his jaw locks or let you sit on his face until he almost suffocates. he doesn't care. just let him eat and call him a good boy.

[honeydippedfiction]

Hello Cici! I hope you’re doing well. If your down for it how about prompts 22 and 31 from established relationship with reader working for the Bengals and in a secret relationship with Joe?💛

(If you feel like it I wouldn’t mind a smut👀

I will probably redo this later on and add smut

1k & Birthday Bash nav | main navigation | reqs | table of contents

#22. "You remember what I was wearing the first time we met?" "Of course I do!" & #31. Getting flustered from extended eye-contact.

Joe Burrow x black!femreader

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Late-afternoon light filtered through the high windows of Paycor Stadium, casting amber streaks across the tiled floor of the west corridor. The hum of post-practice cleanup echoed in the background—cleats clacking on concrete, the buzz of walkie-talkies, the occasional shout from equipment staff.

Y/N adjusted the strap of her headset, cradling a clipboard in her arm as she double-checked the names on the media pass list for the day. Her curls were pulled back into a low bun, lips glossed, her skin glowing in the soft light, and though she moved with practiced efficiency, there was a subtle nervous energy in her steps.

It was ridiculous, really. She was a professional. A sharp, respected member of the Bengals’ public relations team—one of the youngest in her position, and one of the few Black women in the organization. She managed reporters, controlled player interviews, smoothed over everything from sideline spats to tweet controversies. Game days didn’t scare her. Neither did the front office or local media drama.

She was used to working under pressure. In fact, she thrived on it. Handling the Bengals’ media operations meant navigating everything from chaotic press scrums to last-minute crisis control. Y/N had managed three press conferences in one day while putting out a social media fire, all before lunch. She knew how to keep her cool.

But he always did know how to make it all disappear.

Joe.

Or rather—Joe Burrow, the franchise quarterback, golden boy of Cincinnati, the one who looked annoyingly good even after three hours of practice. The one who texted her at 2 a.m. about documentaries on con artists and then followed it up with “Thinking about you, too.” The one who knew how to get under her skin in all the right—and wrong—ways.

The man who’d made her laugh during a power outage in the media room six months ago. The man who’d stolen glances at her during meetings, who sent late-night texts filled with dry sarcasm and sweet nothings. The man whose touch still lingered on her skin from the last time he’d pulled her into the shadows of the training room hallway.

The man she absolutely should not be in a secret relationship with.

And today, he was due any second.

It was like her body could sense him before her brain even caught up—her pulse quickened, skin warmed, thoughts scattered. She hated how easily he did that to her. Hated it, but didn’t really want it to stop either.

From around the corner, she heard that familiar sound—his sneakers against the floor, unhurried and confident. Then came his voice, low and smooth.

“Hey.”

She glanced up too quickly. And there it was. That look.

Joe was standing just a few feet away in joggers and a long-sleeved Bengals tee, sweat still clinging to his collar. His curls were damp, his cheeks flushed from practice. But it wasn’t his outfit or the way the sleeves hugged his arms that did it.

It was his eyes.

He was already staring at her. Not in a creepy way. Not even in a romantic one. It was deeper than that—still, focused, steady. He looked at her like she was the only person in the world worth watching.

Y/N’s grip on her clipboard faltered for half a second.

“You’re doing it again,” she murmured, heart thudding a little harder.

“What?” he asked, all innocence.

“That thing,” she said, waving vaguely at his face. “With your eyes. You look at me too long.”

“I don’t think there’s a time limit,” Joe replied, still not blinking.

She flushed. “You’re at eleven seconds.”

His smirk was smug, familiar, dangerous. “So you’re counting now?”

Y/N tried to fire back, but nothing witty came. She broke eye contact and focused hard on her clipboard, like the schedule of press calls would save her.

His mouth twitched, barely holding back a smirk. “That’s not a thing.”

“It is when you do it,” she shot back, though the heat rising in her cheeks betrayed her.

He stepped in just a little closer. “I like watching you get flustered.”

She scoffed, trying to recover. “I’m not flustered.”

His smile widened. “You just dropped your pen.”

She glanced down.

Damn it.

There it was—her pen on the floor. She bent to grab it and muttered, “That doesn’t count.”

Joe leaned against the wall now, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself. “So you remember what you were wearing the first time we met?”

Her eyes flicked up instinctively.

That was the trap.

He was grinning already, knowing exactly what he was doing.

Y/N straightened slowly, giving him a side-eye.

She hesitated. “…No?”

“Liar,” he said, amused. “That black jumpsuit. The one with the silver zipper and the belt. You had your hair up and those big gold hoops. You looked like you ran the whole building.” His tone turned a touch lower, teasing.

She blinked. “You remembered all that?”

“Of course I did,” Joe said simply. “That outfit haunted me for a week.”

Y/N laughed despite herself, caught between amusement and embarrassment. “You say that like I had you in a chokehold.”

She made the mistake of looking up. Their eyes locked again—longer this time. His stare didn’t waver. It was bold, calm, and unreadable, like he was challenging her to hold it. She felt her breath hitch, skin prickling.

“You did,” he said, meeting her gaze again. “Still do.”

“I—” she started, then stopped, losing the sentence entirely.

Joe tilted his head slightly. “Hmm?”

“You’re… I swear, you’re dangerous,” she whispered.

“And yet here you are.”

She turned her head slowly. “Why are you like this?”

He tilted his head, unbothered. “Because you let me be.”

She didn’t respond right away. Couldn’t. Because he was right—and he knew it.

A sharp voice down the hallway broke the moment—a trainer calling out for Joe. Y/N took a step back instinctively, snapping the professional mask back over her features. Joe didn’t look away immediately. He held her gaze for just one more heartbeat, long enough to make her chest ache, then finally turned and walked toward the sound of his name.

But not before brushing his hand lightly against hers as he passed.

She stood there a moment longer, trying to pull herself together. Her thoughts were scattered, her heartbeat still thudding in her ears. It was always like this with him—five seconds of eye contact and her whole sense of balance tipped.

And worst of all, he knew it.

༺♥༻❀༺♥༻༺♥༻❀༺♥༻

Later, in the press room, the space buzzed with pre-conference energy—cameramen checking focus, reporters murmuring behind coffee cups, interns adjusting mic levels. Y/N moved through the room with practiced efficiency, clipboard in hand, headset slightly askew.

Joe was across the room, leaning casually against a podium while listening to a staff member run through PR points. He looked relaxed, but she could tell from the slight turn of his head, the way his gaze flicked in her direction every few minutes, that he was still watching her.

She bent down to check the audio panel—and when she stood up, he was looking again. She met his eyes this time, willing herself not to break first.

One beat. Two.

Her skin tingled. Her throat went dry.

Three.

She blinked, pretending to look at her notes. Her ears were hot.

When she glanced back, he was grinning—smirking, actually.

He knew.

And she hated how much she liked that he did.

Y/N cleared her throat and crossed the room, her heels clicking sharply. She stopped beside him, pretending to review something on her clipboard. “You need something?” she asked coolly.

“Just waiting,” Joe replied. Then added, quietly, “You always look good when you’re pretending not to look at me.”

She turned her head slowly, eyes narrowing. “I wasn’t.”

He raised his brows, amused. “Sure.”

A moment of silence passed. Not tense—just thick with possibility. She could feel it, humming in the space between them.

“You ever think about what we’re doing?” Joe asked, still not looking directly at her, but clearly speaking only to her.

Y/N hesitated. “Define what.”

“This,” he said simply. “Us. Whatever this is.”

She looked at him now, really looked. “I think about it all the time.”

“And?”

“And it’s dangerous,” she admitted, voice low.

He finally turned to face her. No smile now—just intensity, pure and unfiltered. “Yeah. It is.”

Her breath caught. She didn’t look away. Not this time.

“You afraid?” he asked.

“I’d be stupid not to be,” she said. “But I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Joe studied her face like he was memorizing it. Then, very softly, he said, “Yeah. You are.”

Someone called his name again, louder this time.

He gave her a final, unreadable look—then turned and walked away, easy and unhurried. Like he hadn’t just unraveled her completely with three minutes of eye contact and a few well-placed words.

Y/N let out a breath, her hand gripping the edge of the podium to steady herself.

He was dangerous, all right.

And she was dangerously close to not caring anymore.

༺♥༻❀༺♥༻༺♥༻❀༺♥༻

By the time the press conference started, Y/N had mostly recovered her equilibrium. She was in her zone now—taking notes, managing hand signals from the back of the room, making sure no reporter asked anything they weren’t cleared to ask.

Joe handled the podium like he always did: smooth, calm, press-trained to perfection. But halfway through a reporter's question about playoff prep, he glanced her way and caught her looking.

And held it.

Not for long. Barely a second. Just enough to make her feel it.

She broke first.

Again.

She looked down at her clipboard, then at her watch, then at literally anything else. But the flush in her cheeks wouldn’t fade.

When he walked off the podium and passed her on the way out, his fingers brushed hers once more—out of sight, quick, careful.

But he said nothing.

He didn’t need to.

༺♥༻❀༺♥༻༺♥༻❀༺♥༻

Later that night, she’d find a text waiting for her:

Joe: You blinked first. Again.

Joe: You owe me.

She sighed, smiling despite herself.

And typed back:

Y/N: I owe you nothing. Stop staring at me like I’m dessert.

Joe: You are.

And just like that, her resolve unraveled all over again.

[gojoethereal]

02 | "Warm Enough to Ruin You"

pairing: gojo x geto x reader x shoko tags → poly jjk, soft smut, post-shower tension, gojo is a menace, suguru stares too hard, shoko smirks too much, robe slipping moments, you asked for this (literally), you’re theirs now

Summary- You shouldn’t have opened the door in that robe—but you did. And now Gojo, Shoko, and Suguru aren’t leaving until they’ve made good on every look they gave you. Slow touches, shared heat, and a night that blurs all boundaries. You thought they were just friends. Turns out, you’re theirs.

divider found here

previous

Suguru’s hands were the first thing you really felt.

Broad, slow, kneading into your hips like he had all night to worship every inch of you. His voice was low against your neck, muttering things like “so soft” and “made for us” as his thumbs pressed into the arch of your lower back, making you melt into his lap.

Shoko kissed your spine. Once. Twice. Then again, lower.

You gasped when Gojo pulled your legs apart—gently, playfully—and knelt between them with that devastating grin.

“Gotta make room for me, sweetheart,” he murmured, dragging his hands along your thighs like he was painting them into memory.

“Greedy,” Shoko said, smirking as she leaned down to kiss your temple. “But hot.”

Gojo pressed his lips to your knee, trailing upward. “You love it.”

They moved around you like they’d done this before. Not just with anyone—but with you. Like they knew the map of your body, and how you responded to being praised, teased, taken apart.

Suguru tilted your chin back toward him and kissed you like you were a secret. Deep, slow, full of heat and reverence.

“Tell us if it’s too much,” he whispered, lips brushing your cheek.

“It won’t be,” you breathed.

And it wasn’t.

Because when Gojo’s mouth found you—wet, open, sinful—you forgot your own name.

Because when Shoko’s fingers gripped your throat with a gentleness that still made you tremble, you felt like something precious.

Because Suguru never stopped holding you, steadying you, whispering “good girl” like a prayer against your skin.

You didn’t know where one of them ended and another began—hands, mouths, breath, all blurring together in waves of pleasure that kept building, over and over again, until your body arched and broke and rebuilt under them.

They worshipped you.

And when you came—shaking, half-crying, a mess of open lips and trembling legs—they held you through every second.

...

You didn’t remember falling asleep. Just warmth. The weight of Suguru’s hand on your waist. Gojo’s hair tickling your chest. Shoko murmuring something about your heartbeat.

The room was quiet.

Shoko leaned on one elbow beside you, lighting another cigarette but not smoking it, just watching the smoke curl up toward the ceiling. “So... breakfast?”

Suguru groaned. “Don’t ruin it.”

Gojo snorted, arm still around your legs. “You say that now, but if she makes pancakes—”

You stirred. “Who said I was cooking?”

They all looked at you.

Suguru kissed your shoulder. “Fine. But only if I get to do the dishes.”

Gojo smirked. “I’ll do you instead.”

“Classy,” Shoko muttered, stealing your blanket.

You laughed. Tired. Satisfied. Completely wrecked. Completely loved.

You closed your eyes again, just for a moment. Let the morning sink in. Let their bodies wrap around yours like gravity. There was no need to move. Not yet. Not when you were cocooned in something so quietly sacred.

Gojo's fingers found your ankle under the blanket and traced idle circles. “We should stay like this forever,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep and something softer.

Shoko raised a brow. “Forever’s a long time, Satoru.”

“Yeah,” Suguru agreed, his voice brushing against your skin, warm and low. “But... maybe just this morning. Maybe that’s enough.”

You felt it in your chest—how deeply they meant it. How this was more than just shared nights and stolen jokes. It was trust. It was history. It was love, without needing to say the word out loud.

You hummed, reaching out to tangle your fingers with Gojo’s, and nudged your heel against Suguru’s leg. Shoko sighed like she was annoyed, but she didn’t move away—just leaned in closer.

“Alright,” you whispered. “But someone else is making the coffee.”

They groaned in unison, but none of them let go.

And maybe they never would.

Eventually, the promise of caffeine was stronger than sleep.

You shuffled into the kitchen wrapped in Gojo’s hoodie, Suguru trailing behind with the blanket still around his shoulders like a cloak. Shoko had stolen the lighter and was already leaning against the counter, fiddling with the gas stove and half a cigarette tucked behind her ear like a pencil.

“You don’t even smoke indoors,” Suguru murmured, voice rough.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like the smell,” she muttered back, flicking the lighter anyway. “It’s ritualistic.”

Gojo walked straight into the fridge. “Who finished the oat milk? Be honest. Be brave.”

“You finished it,” you said.

“No, that was almond milk. Or rice milk. One of the weird ones.”

“You brought it,” Shoko deadpanned.

Geto snorted, brushing past Gojo to pull the coffee beans from the top shelf. “Let him spiral. He gets dramatic without his morning sugar.”

“Rude,” Gojo pouted, turning to lean his full weight into Suguru’s side, head resting dramatically on his shoulder. “See how they treat me? Like I’m disposable.”

Suguru didn’t even flinch. Just reached up and threaded his fingers through Gojo’s hair with the ease of years behind the gesture. “You're the worst.”

“Yet here I am,” Gojo hummed.

You were at the stove now, flipping the first pancake as Shoko passed you a cup of black coffee without asking how you took it. She leaned in, shoulder pressed to yours, her gaze unfocused but present. “You’re glowing,” she murmured. “Disgusting.”

“I could say the same,” you said, nudging her hip with yours.

She didn’t smile, but she didn’t move either.

Behind you, Gojo was making a mess of the counter under the guise of “helping,” but Suguru was at his heels with a damp cloth, wiping behind him in real-time. They bickered in low voices, half-hearted and affectionate.

“You’re going to burn it,” Gojo called to you, but didn’t move to interfere. “I’ll still eat it. Out of loyalty.”

“You’d eat burnt concrete,” Shoko said.

“And say thank you,” Suguru added.

You turned and handed Suguru the first pancake—slightly uneven, but golden. He took it with mock reverence, and then passed it to Gojo without even glancing down.

Gojo blinked. “This is for me?”

“No, it’s a symbol of our codependent love triangle,” Suguru deadpanned.

Shoko finally laughed. A dry, rare thing. But real.

They were all real here. With you. Around this messy little kitchen, where the overhead light buzzed and the coffee machine groaned and everything somehow tasted like home.

Later, Gojo bumped your hip with his. “You alright?” he asked, voice lowered now. Soft, like he didn’t want the others to hear your answer.

You nodded, slow. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah,” he said, and kissed your temple like it was instinct. Suguru watched him with a quiet, knowing smile and took your hand just after. Shoko pretended not to see, but you felt her reach behind you to refill your cup.

It wasn’t perfect. None of you were. But it didn’t have to be.

There was a kind of love here that held like gravity pulling all of you back to each other, again and again, no matter how many times the world tried to shake it loose.

And for now, that was enough.

authors note- this is kind of long oh well.... dont forget to give me any ideas in my inbox bc i will answer 🙂‍↕️

[jenosonlywife23]

The way back

Ex!Jeno x reader

a\n; a little sth for you guys, im also going through it.

The music pulsed like muscle memory, wrapping around her body in low vibrations. Even now, surrounded by strangers and half-drunk influencers, she could feel him walk in before she saw him. A shift in the atmosphere. Something in her bones recognizing the presence it had loved too much to forget.

Jeno.

Six months was a long time to pretend they were strangers.

She didn’t move. Just kept her glass loosely in hand, her lipstick untouched. He hadn’t changed—still wore black like it was armor, still walked like he wasn’t used to the world watching him, even though they always did.

His eyes found hers across the crowd. One second. Two.

He looked like someone trying to breathe underwater. And she... she looked like someone who had stopped waiting.

They didn’t talk until backstage, after the encore, when Kibum pulled her into a quick hug and said, almost casually, “He asked if you’d be here. I didn’t tell him.”

She smiled faintly. “You didn’t have to.”

And then Jeno was there. Hesitating. Watching her like she might vanish if he moved too fast.

“You cut your hair,” he said quietly.

“You stopped texting,” she replied, voice even.

He nodded once, guilt flickering over his face. “Can we...?”

She didn’t say yes. She didn’t say no either.

They ended up at his hotel, the silence between them thick with all the words they hadn’t said.

He poured two glasses of water. His hands trembled just slightly. She noticed.

“I didn’t know how to reach out,” he said finally. “Everything I wanted to say felt too late.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, hands in her lap. “It wasn’t the silence that hurt. It was knowing you didn’t think we could come back from it.”

“I thought you deserved more than waiting around for someone always on the road.”

She tilted her head. “I never needed perfect. I just needed presence.”

He sat beside her. Not too close. Not too far.

“Do you remember that night we stayed up until 4 a.m. painting the wall in your apartment?” she asked suddenly.

He smiled. “We were supposed to do one accent wall and ended up painting all four.”

“And you got paint in my hair.”

“You still let me kiss you.”

“You always knew how to calm me down.”

He turned, eyes meeting hers. “You always made me want to come home.”

She reached out, fingers brushing his. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How something can break, and still... still feel like home.”

He held her gaze. “Maybe it wasn’t broken. Maybe it just... paused.”

The first kiss was cautious. The second one wasn’t. It felt like exhaling after months of holding back. She sank into him with the familiarity of someone who already knew the ending and wanted to rewrite it anyway.

His shirt came off first, followed by hers. No rush. No tension. Just hands learning each other again, lips pressed into soft places, breath shared like secrets.

He looked at her like she was something to be remembered. She touched him like he’d never left.

He took his time — kissed her collarbones, whispered her name against her shoulder. She moaned into his mouth when he pushed into her, deep and slow, like he had nothing to prove and everything to feel.

They moved together like music. Her legs wrapped around his waist, his forehead against hers. No dominance. No control. Just connection.

Afterward, when the room was quiet and they were tangled under the sheets, he ran his thumb over the curve of her cheek.

“I thought about you every day,” he said.

“I know,” she whispered. “So did I.”

He pressed his lips to her temple. “I missed this. Not just the... this. But you. Your voice in the morning. Your cold feet under the blanket. The way you always steal half my food even though you say you're not hungry.”

She smiled into his chest. “You used to like that.”

“I still do.”

A pause.

“Can we try again?” he asked.

She didn’t answer right away. She just curled into him, like muscle memory, like instinct.

“I don’t want to lose you twice,” she said.

“Then stay.”

[danurso]

Kinds of siblings

During a tranquil day at the Kamisato residence, Ayato found himself pouring some tea for his anxious looking sister, sitting across from her and taking a sip from his cup.

Ayaka: Apologies brother, I'm sure you must be busy.

Ayato: I’ll never be busy enough to ignore a request to talk from my own sister. To be frank, we don't have enough of these nowadays.

Ayaka: I appreciate it brother. *Takes her cup, sipping the tea*

Ayato: So, what did you wish to discuss with me?

He saw how she flinched for a moment, the tea in her cup stopped moving for a few seconds before she continued drinking, eventually resting down the cup on the table.

Ayaka: *pink* I…wish to come out with a secret I've been keeping for you.

Ayato: Oh? *Chuckles, Leaning closer* Since when did you learn to keep those?

Ayaka: My apologies, I did not wish to, but I was unsure of how you would react.

Ayato: I can guarantee this much, coming from you, i doubt it'll be something that can make me angr-

Ayaka: *red* I’m dating Thoma!

Ayato: ……

Ayaka: *looks down* I have been for a while! I know he's neither a noble nor from our country! I know the implications aren't good! I know how such a relationship would be viewed by our peers but-!

She spoke quickly and anxiously, the fear of finally coming clean with such a secret making spiking her adrenaline, however she couldn't bear to hide it anymore, and yet, despite the intense feelings of dread consuming her, as she gathered courage to look at her brother again, all she saw was a comforting gentle smile on his face.

Ayato: So that's it, I'm happy for you two.

Ayaka: *stunned* You…are you not mad?

Ayato: *raises eyebrow, small smile* Should i be?

Ayaka: No! I-i…i just-

Ayato: You thought I'd be angry that my sister went behind my back and started dating, quite possibly, one of the most controversial options for our social circle?

Ayaka: *biting her lip, looking down and nodding*

Ayato: *Rolls his eyes* Are you happy?

Ayaka: Huh?

Ayato: I’m asking if you are happy. Does being with him make you happy?

Her remorseful expression lifted swiftly, her cheeks grew rosy as a small smile alongside glittering eyes took over her facial features.

Ayaka: I can't think of a time I've felt this happy before. Thoma has always been kind and caring to me, but after we got together it feels so much different, so much more…hearing his encouraging words when i’m trying to befriend someone, his calm reassurance when i fail or struggle with something, noticing the attention to detail he pours on everything he does for my sake, his willingness to go along with my wants even when they're downright silly, his warm embrace whenever i find myself feeling cold, the way there's never judgement or expectations in his eyes......the only thing reflecting on them is always an image of me as myself, not as the princess of the Kamisato clan but someone more normal.....more me. Being with him feels right, in just about every sense of the word.

She looked up to her brother again to see him resting his chin on his interlocked fingers, his eyes narrowed and a cheeky grin adorning his face.

Ayaka: *bright red* S-sorry! I got carried away.

Ayato: No need for apologies, seeing you so adorably smitten is more than enough compensation.

Ayaka: *Steaming* Please don't start teasing me.

Ayato: *chuckles* I’ll try my best, despite how tempting it is.

Ayaka: Brother…

She avoided his gaze for a moment, only to feel the gentle touch of his hand caressing her head.

Ayato: *warm smile* I’m glad to hear that is how you feel. I feared you’d be swept away by the duty our name brings.

Ayaka: *small smile* It's difficult to do so when you hog all the responsibility to yourself.

Ayato: Good, that means I'm doing well as a brother. This family went through enough hardships as is, I wouldn't be able to bear it if you gave up something so beautiful and sacred like love for its sake as well.

Hearing such words after months of anxiety brought her a sense of relief like no other she felt before, it made her heart flutter, with tears threatening to spill down her face.

Ayaka: I’m glad…the thought of you rejecting us terrified me to my core.

Ayato: Hmmm, can't say that I blame you. Had it been someone else I'd have to put the situation under a lot more scrutiny. However, I don't think you could have picked someone better. In all these years he’s been with us not once did he show signs of being someone worthy of suspicion, he’s hard working, caring and honest almost to a fault, I have no reason to doubt he’ll treat my dear sister with the utmost care and love she deserves.

Ayaka: *growing smile* That's reassuring to hear from you brother.

Ayato: Though, I am curious why he isn't a part of this conversation.

Ayaka: *flinches, sheepish smile* Well…he wished to be here as well, but I insisted that he waited somewhere else for the time being…as a matter of fact, I was also the one that insisted on keeping our relationship a secret for the time being, if it depended on Thoma you would already know.

Ayato: *chuckles* Did you think I was going to harm him or something like that?

Ayaka: *blush, looking away and fidgeting* ………

Ayato: Archons, is that the impression you have of me? *Looking down* Am i that terrible of a brother?

Ayaka: N-no! It's just……i’m sorry.

Ayato: *snort* Calm down, i’m joking.

Ayaka: *red, pout* ……I asked you not to tease me.

Ayato: And I said that I would try, but I didn't promise anything.

Ayaka: You can be awfully mean when you want to.

Ayato: Take it as compensation for being kept in the dark for so long.

Ayaka: *pink* We’ve only been dating for a month and a half!

Ayato: *raises eyebrow* Really? I could’ve bet the entire estate on you two being together for at least a year already. So all this time two have been just tiptoeing around the issue?

Ayaka: *red* ……was it that obvious?

Ayato: Goodness, now I just feel bad for you two. Then again, I suppose better late than never does apply here.

Ayaka: I’d rather think about it that way.

Ayato: Regardless, what matters is that you’re both happy. I’d like to straighten things out with Thoma as well, and afterwards, we can celebrate your newfound relationship.

Ayaka: T-there’s no need for so much! You’re quite busy already, you don't need to waste your time with that, nor with the ruckus that would rise from people discovering my relationship with him, we agreed to keep things away from the public eye.

Ayato: Nonsense. My sister and my dear friend are finally together, celebrating such an occasion is everything BUT a waste. And about how our peers will perceive it, you don't need to worry about it, should any of them try and raise their grievances, I'll deal with it myself.

Ayaka: Please don't hurt anyone for our sake...

Ayato: Who said anything about hurting anyone? My sweet innocent sister, do you truly believe our peers are as prim and pious as they seem?

Ayaka: Are they not?

Her answer was so genuine, Ayato had no idea if he should be concerned or fawn at how adorably innocent she was. Everyone has skeletons in their closet, nobles with money and influence to cover it up especially, he was well aware of that.

Ayato: Don't worry your pretty head over it. *Overly sweet smile, patting her head* Should they dare object to your relationship, I'll merely remind them exactly who they are.

Ayaka: Understood.

Ayato: *Getting up* Now, why don't you bring your dear other half back? Tell him I won't try to cut him the moment he walks in……*grin* Or maybe not, should I play the strict and disapproving brother? Seeing how he would react to a straight rejection from me sounds quite funny.

Ayaka: You’re starting to sound like lady Guuji!

Ayato: Her pranks are incredibly amusing, it makes me want to pull a few of my own.

Ayaka: *pouting* Brother…

Ayato: Fine, no more teasing.

Ayaka: ……*hugs him*

Ayato: ???

Ayaka: Thank you…for everything. The gods couldn't have given me a better brother.

Ayato: *smiles, holding her close* I’m merely looking after my sister's happiness, any good brother would do so.

Ayaka: Even so, having your approval and support means the world to me.

Ayato: It's nothing. You already have enough on your plate, you deserve to put duty aside and let your own happiness take priority for once.

Ayaka: *looks up to him* You have a lot on your plate too, and you deserve happiness as well, does that mean I can expect you to put things aside one day to visit that seamstress from Fontaine?

Ayato: *Narrows eyes at her, grin* Well now who's teasing who here?

Ayaka: I’m sure she'd like it! I could even take over things in the meantime! You should-

Ayato: Are you going to try and play matchmaker right now? With how long this is taking I wouldn't be surprised if your boyfriend is just anxiously waiting for me to show up with a sword in hand.

Ayaka: Ah, right! I'll be right back!

With that realization she almost bolted away from the room, leaving ayato to chuckle at the sight. It's not often that he sees his sister so energetic and joyful, he hopes it will become the new norm from now on. And to that, a celebration was in order, he'd make sure today would be a day for them to look back and smile upon.

Ayaka: To think my brother would accept us so easily…*smiling to herself* It feels like a dream. Honestly, I don't understand why the traveler was so restless about this, telling my brother was the best thing I could've done!

*Meanwhile, in a far away abyssal fracture*

Aether: You worthless, insufferable and unbearable piece of shit!!! *Swings his sword violently*

Childe: *is sent flying back, landing upright with a bleeding cut across his chest* PFFFHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! IS THAT THE BEST THE KING OF THE ABYSS CAN DO!?!? FIGHTING LIKE THAT WON'T GET YOUR SWORD TO CUT ME EVEN HALFWAY AS DEEP AS I WAS INSIDE YOUR SISTER YESTERDAY!!!

Aether: You……*energy bursting around him, eyes glowing manically* I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!!

Aether/Childe: *charging at eachother*

Lumine: *red, face buried in her hands* Uuuuuugh! Why are they always like this!?

Paimon: Paimon's not really sure but hey! Look on the bright side, those two managed to talk for five solid minutes before trying to kill each other this time, that's an improvement!

Lumine: Hurling insults at one another doesn't count as talking Paimon!!!

[completeoveranalysis]

[5]

Ohoho Egg Time!

Or at least Egg Explanation Time. 

I can’t remember exactly how much xxxHolic told us about where the Egg came from, but we see a little glimpse of it in the first frame here - in Acid Tokyo, when Sakura had her solo mission in the desert and brought back the monster egg that split into two when given to Yuuko. 

It’s a lovely parallel to what happened with Lava Lamp and Watanuki. 

And I’m sure Yuuko is just about to explain which two people the egg is for, but it’s Watanuki and Himawari! Or like, Himawari and Doumeki, but the Doumeki egg is specifically to save Watanuki, so that’s basically the same thing.

Yeah here we go!

With an addendum of ohhhhhh! So the different names and appearances was a deliberate choice in an effort to keep them both existing and not erased by the vague timeline rules!

That’s very fun. 

Also you could also draw a parallel between one egg that was born to be raised (Lava Lamp) and one egg that gave birth to nothing (since Watanuki was originally intended to vanish). That’s slightly less fun!

Also if Yuuko opening the locket is the going to reveal the actual faces of the parents I’m going to scream.

I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN. 

BUT!

BUT! MATCHING FAMILY MOMENT! WATANUKI WITH HIS PARENTS! WATANUKI IN LITTLE FORMAL WEAR! 

WATANUKI AND LAVA LAMP HAVING MATCHING PHOTOGRAPHS WITH THEIR PARENTS! 

And their parents giving Watanuki an auspicious name designed to protect him from his fate - which has worked so far! And even the word itself is about a process of conversion!

The meaning behind it all!

[vounoura]

I do think a Mercar Rook having utterly no ties to Dock Town other than a more vague 'Neve and I are from the same city but different parts' is a bit of a lost opportunity ngl

[youraveragecatastrophe]

At the end of the episode, Carmen has known Ivy and Zack for 2 hours top and she's like 'sure I'll put two randos on my crew, they seem nice :)'

And Zack and Ivy have known this weird lady for 2 hours top and are also like 'yeah we'll follow her no questions asked'

I love all of them for that.