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theetherealbloom · 13 days ago

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IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.4

Chapter Four: Everybody Wonders What It Would Be Like To Love You

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Starstruck, Bullying, Physicological Bullying, Mean Girls,

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Heads up, there’s a bully in this chapter but dw, you got Pedro on your side hehe. Again, this is all fictional. To any Cecilia’s out there irl, no hate to you girl, I don’t even know you LOL.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: gold rush by Taylor Swift

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PINEWOOD STUDIOS — MORNING

The hum of set life surrounded you like a familiar melody—the rhythmic chatter of crew members, the distant clatter of equipment being adjusted, the occasional burst of laughter from someone off-camera. You moved through it all with ease, exchanging quick words with a fellow PA as you double-checked the last-minute details before call time.

You didn’t notice him watching you.

Pedro sat in the makeup chair, already in costume, his eyes drifting away from the mirror as Coco worked her hands through his hair. His body was still, but his mind was somewhere else. Or rather—on someone else.

It was the way you tilted your head as someone from production rattled off instructions, your brows furrowing slightly in concentration. The way you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, nodding once before offering a soft, assured smile. You weren’t just hearing what they were saying—you were listening, absorbing every detail like you belonged here. Like you had always belonged.

He felt something tighten in his chest.

God, you made him feel strange.

It was the words that stuck in his throat when you were near, the way his pulse stuttered for no damn reason. The way his thoughts—usually so steady, so controlled—felt unruly around you. It was dizzying. Unsettling.

It had been a long time since he’d felt like this. Since he’d been caught so completely off guard by someone.

And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from looking for you.

In the crowd. In the moments between takes. In the quiet spaces where he thought maybe—just maybe—you were looking for him, too.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — AFTERNOON

Lunch break rolled around, bringing a much-needed lull in the day’s chaos. The crew scattered—some retreating to their trailers, others grabbing quick bites from catering, the energy shifting into something looser, more relaxed.

Your phone buzzed just as you were sitting down at one of the outdoor tables, the screen lighting up with a message.

Pedro: Wanna grab a bite later?

You smiled to yourself, thumbs already moving across the screen.

You: I do, but I kinda wanna hang with my friends for a bit too.

His response came almost immediately.

Pedro: Oh yeah, of course. Mind if I tag along?

You hesitated for half a second. Not because you didn’t want him there—but because you weren’t sure if he really wanted to be there.

You: Are you sure?

Pedro: Obviously.

So that’s how Pedro Pascal ended up at lunch with you and your friends, settling into the group like he had always belonged there.

He was easy to talk to, of course. He charmed his way through introductions, seamlessly jumping into conversations, laughing in all the right places, making everyone feel like they were the most interesting person in the room. But his attention always had a way of drifting back to you.

The way you scrunched your nose as you tried to pick apart a joke someone had made. The way your eyes lit up as you talked about some old inside story with your friends. The way you were currently demolishing a cookie like it was the best thing you’d ever tasted.

Pedro noticed.

He didn’t say anything, but he noticed.

His lips twitched as you took another enthusiastic bite, completely unaware of his amusement.

There were other things, too—subtle things. The brush of his knee against yours under the table, lingering just a second longer than necessary. The way his fingers would graze your wrist when he leaned in to say something, as if testing the waters. The way his eyes would flick to your lips when you spoke before quickly darting away, as if he hadn’t meant to.

And then, of course, there was the teasing.

"Did you even taste that cookie, or did you just inhale it?" Pedro mused, finally breaking his silence, amusement lacing his voice.

You swallowed the last bite, leveling him with a mock glare. "It’s really good."

He smirked. "Clearly."

"Don’t judge me."

"Never." The word came softer than expected, a little too sincere for just teasing. His gaze held yours for a beat longer than necessary, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

Your heart stuttered.

He looked away first, but not before you caught the slightest hint of pink creeping up the tips of his ears. It was such a small thing—barely there, really—but you noticed. And it made something warm unfurl in your chest.

The conversation around the table carried on, your friends swapping stories and teasing each other between bites of food. Pedro chimed in here and there, laughing along, but every now and then, you felt his gaze flick back to you.

You were hyper-aware of him now. The way his arm rested casually on the back of your chair, not quite touching but close enough that you could feel his warmth. The way his fingers absentmindedly drummed against the table, his other hand occasionally brushing against yours as he reached for his drink.

Then, he sighed, pulling his phone from his pocket, frowning slightly at the screen.

"Ugh, my phone’s about to die."

Without hesitation, you reached into your bag, pulling out your power bank and a charging cord. "Oh, no worries, here—use this."

Pedro blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

You handed it over without a second thought, already turning back to your food. But he didn’t move to plug his phone in right away. Instead, he just looked at you, something unreadable in his expression.

His fingers brushed against yours as he took the charger, his touch lingering just a fraction longer than necessary.

“You just carry this around with you?” he asked, his voice quieter now, something softer beneath the teasing edge.

You shrugged, popping another bite of food into your mouth. “Yeah, of course. Never know when you might need it.”

His lips quirked, but he didn’t say anything right away.

Instead, he plugged in his phone, then glanced back at you, shaking his head slightly like he couldn’t quite believe you.

"What?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Pedro exhaled a small laugh, tucking the power bank into his lap like it was something precious. "Nothing. You’re just—" He paused, searching for the right word, before finally settling on, "—thoughtful."

Something about the way he said it made your stomach flip.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his gaze. "It’s just a charger, Pedro."

"Yeah," he murmured, still watching you. "I know."

But his expression said something else entirely.

You weren’t sure what to do with that look—the quiet weight of his gaze, the way he seemed to be memorizing you like you were something worth studying. So, instead of dwelling on it, you reached into your bag and pulled out your notepad and pen.

Doodling had always been second nature to you. Something to keep your hands busy while your mind wandered. While your friends continued chatting, their voices washing over you in waves, you let your pen glide over the paper in absentminded strokes.

Pedro, however, wasn’t nearly as distracted.

From the corner of his eye, he watched, his attention flicking between you and the small spirals and shapes forming beneath your fingers. It was mesmerizing in a way he didn’t expect. The way your brow furrowed ever so slightly when you concentrated. The way your pen tapped softly against the pad before committing to a new line.

He shifted in his seat, subtly angling himself so he could get a better look.

It wasn’t just mindless scribbles.

You were sketching. Really sketching.

A rough outline of the restaurant table, the glasses, the crumpled napkins. And just beside that, the faint beginnings of a face—strong jaw, slightly furrowed brows, lips curved at the edges as if they were on the verge of a smirk.

His lips.

Pedro’s throat tightened.

"That me?" he asked, voice pitched just low enough for only you to hear.

Your pen paused mid-stroke, and you glanced up at him, caught. He wasn’t teasing, not really. If anything, there was something almost—fond—about the way he was looking at you.

You shrugged, offering a sheepish smile. "Maybe."

Pedro huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "I didn’t know you could draw."

"It’s just something I do when I’m listening," you admitted, flipping the page like it was nothing.

But he didn’t think it was nothing.

He wanted to say something else, something lighthearted to keep you from looking so shy about it, but before he could, one of your friends called your name, pulling your attention away.

Pedro exhaled, leaning back in his seat, but his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer.

Thoughtful. Talented.

Yeah. He was absolutely in trouble.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — AFTERNOON

The shift in the air was subtle at first, almost imperceptible.

But you felt it.

It was the way certain conversations would quiet just as you approached. The way people who had once been warm and welcoming now exchanged knowing glances when they thought you weren’t looking. The way whispers followed in your wake, hushed giggles that felt anything but good-natured.

And at the center of it all was Cecilia.

She was the kind of woman people noticed when she walked into a room—stunning, sharp-witted, and utterly ruthless when it came to getting what she wanted.

And for whatever reason, she had decided that you were a problem.

At first, it was small things. A pointed look. A lingering smirk. A brush of her shoulder against yours as she passed by.

But then, it escalated.

"Did you hear?" one of her friends whispered just loud enough as you walked by. "She totally forced her way onto this project. Some kind of nepotism thing, I bet."

"Ugh, so cringe," another voice giggled. "She acts all sweet, but like, we know the truth."

You gritted your teeth, kept your head down, and moved along.

You weren’t stupid. You knew exactly what this was. Psychological warfare disguised as petty gossip. You’d seen it before, and you'd see it again.

The worst part?

You refused to let it get to you.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Pedro noticed.

It started with the way you brushed things off too quickly, like you were trying not to care. The way your usual smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes. The way your laugh—one of his new favorite sounds—had dulled just a fraction, too forced, too polite.

And Pedro wasn’t an idiot.

He saw the way Cecilia and her group slinked around set like vipers, the way their eyes always seemed to flick toward you before whispering behind manicured hands.

It pissed him off.

But when he asked about it, you just waved it away.

“Nothing’s wrong.” You shrugged, reaching for a prop clipboard. “Just tired. Long day.”

Pedro arched a brow. “Really? That’s it?”

“Yep.”

He studied you for a moment, then exhaled through his nose. “You’re a terrible liar.”

That made you scoff. “I am fine.”

“Uh-huh.” He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. “So, you’re totally cool with the whole… weird vibe around here lately?”

You hesitated. Just for a second.

It was enough.

“Pedro,” you sighed, shaking your head. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t care what they think, okay? It’s just… you know how some people are. They get bored.”

“They get mean,” he corrected.

You frowned, looking away.

He softened, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t suck.”

You swallowed, fingers tightening around the clipboard.

“It doesn’t suck,” you insisted. “Because I don’t care.”

Pedro’s stare was unwavering, but you held your ground.

Because if you admitted it did hurt—if you let yourself feel it—you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop.

And you weren’t going to let them win.

Pedro sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Fine. You don’t care," he murmured. "But if you ever do care… you’ll tell me, right?"

Something in your chest tightened at that.

You forced a small, teasing smile. “Wow, Pedro. That almost sounded like a serious conversation.”

He rolled his eyes but smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it."

And just like that, the tension cracked, relief flickering behind his gaze.

For now, he’d let you pretend you were fine.

But he’d also be watching.

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE WEEKEND…

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — MORNING

The next two days were a slow, grating kind of miserable.

It started with small things—so small that if you weren’t paying attention, you might have convinced yourself they were nothing. The way conversations would quiet just as you walked past, the barely-concealed laughter from across the room, the occasional, suspiciously misplaced item that had definitely been right where you left it.

It was the kind of thing that chipped away at you in small, insidious ways.

Like the way Cecilia and her friends would conveniently stand right where you needed to go, their backs turned but their voices just loud enough.

“I swear, some people just don’t belong here.”

You’d walk past without reacting, even as the words burrowed under your skin.

Or the way your neatly organized stack of call sheets had been mysteriously scattered all over the breakroom counter when you came back from a coffee run. No one claimed responsibility, but Cecilia had walked by, tossing you a slow, syrupy-sweet, “Oops, was that important?” before sauntering off.

You clenched your jaw. Breathed through it.

Not worth it.

But then there were the more deliberate moments.

Like the wardrobe rack incident.

You had been helping move costumes between trailers when Cecilia and one of her friends conveniently brushed past, sending a precariously hung dress tumbling to the ground.

“Oh no,” Cecilia pouted, pressing a hand to her chest with mock concern. “You should really be more careful.”

You bent to pick it up, biting back the sharp retort on the tip of your tongue. The last thing you needed was to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

Still, your fingers trembled slightly as you smoothed out the fabric and rehung it.

Then, there was lunch.

You had been balancing a plate of food in one hand, your phone in the other, when one of Cecilia’s friends accidentally knocked your elbow in passing.

It was a tiny movement. Just enough to send your fork clattering to the floor, just enough to make you hesitate—because was it intentional? Or were you just being paranoid?

“Careful,” the girl sing-songed over her shoulder, giggling as she caught up with Cecilia.

You let out a slow breath. Swallowed back the lump in your throat.

Not worth it.

So you kept your head up, kept moving, kept going. You told yourself that if you didn’t acknowledge it, if you pretended it didn’t exist, then it couldn’t touch you.

Right?

But it did.

Because by the time you got back to your trailer that night, you had to sit on the edge of your bed and press the heels of your hands into your eyes, breathing slow, measured breaths to keep yourself from crying.

Because it was working.

Because no matter how much you told yourself you were fine, no matter how much you smiled and laughed and acted unbothered, the cracks were starting to show.

You barely had a moment to yourself.

Between running last-minute errands for production, keeping up with the crew’s rapid-fire instructions, and dodging the subtle but constant hostility radiating from Cecilia and her group, you were stretched thin.

The exhaustion was creeping in—settling in the space between your ribs, behind your eyes, in the way your shoulders sat just a little tighter than usual.

But you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

So you pushed through, past the carefully calculated inconveniences. The way they always seemed to cut in front of you when you were in a hurry, the stolen side-eyes and smirks exchanged whenever you spoke in a group, the way your things somehow always ended up in different places than you’d left them.

You pretended not to notice when Cecilia’s voice turned just a little too loud whenever she spoke to someone near you.

"Oh my god, you know what I hate? When people think just anyone can belong in this industry. Like… babe, you’re only here because they needed extra hands. It’s cute, though."

You told yourself not to react.

Even when Daisy—who had been standing beside you, her grip tightening on her clipboard—made a noise that sounded a lot like she was about to launch herself across the room.

“It’s whatever,” you had muttered, tugging her back before she could make a scene.

Daisy had narrowed her eyes. “It’s not whatever. She’s being a bitch.”

You had only sighed. “I know.”

Omar wasn’t as easily convinced.

The next morning, when you found him loitering near Cecilia’s usual coffee spot, arms crossed and expression unreadable, you had to physically drag him away before he did something stupid.

“Do not get yourself in trouble over this.”

“She’s messing with you,” he seethed. “I hate people like her.”

“She’s not worth it,” you said, but even to your own ears, your voice sounded too thin, too tight.

Omar wasn’t buying it. “Okay, but are you okay?”

You hesitated. The truth was, you weren’t sure anymore.

The worst part wasn’t the pettiness or the whispered insults—it was the fact that it was working. That somehow, in all the noise and nonsense, they had managed to make you feel small.

But admitting that felt too much like defeat.

So you forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

Omar gave you a long, knowing look before muttering something under his breath and stalking off.

That afternoon, as you sat on a bench outside the studio, your notebook balanced on your lap, you felt a shadow fall over you.

“Hey,” Pedro’s voice was soft.

You glanced up, startled. “Oh. Hey.”

His brows knit together. “You okay?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been… different.” His voice was measured, careful. “Quieter.”

You tried to play it off, shaking your head with a small laugh. “I’m just tired. Long shoot days, you know how it is.”

Pedro didn’t look convinced.

For a moment, he just stood there, watching you with that steady, unreadable gaze of his. Like he was sifting through the words you weren’t saying, trying to make sense of them.

Then, without another word, he sat down beside you.

Close enough that his arm brushed against yours.

You tensed, just slightly, before exhaling.

Neither of you spoke for a moment.

Then—

“Can I see?” he asked, nodding toward your notebook.

You hesitated.

It was just mindless doodles—tiny flowers curling around the corners of the pages, half-finished sketches of set pieces, a rough outline of something that might have been Pedro’s profile if you hadn’t abandoned it halfway through.

You felt a little embarrassed, but you handed it to him anyway.

Pedro flipped through the pages, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “These are really good.”

You rolled your eyes. “They’re just sketches.”

“Still,” he murmured, fingers skimming over the paper. “They’re yours.”

There was something about the way he said it—soft, sincere—that made your stomach tighten.

For the first time in two days, something in you eased.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

And when Pedro leaned in, just slightly, warmth radiating from his shoulder where it rested against yours, you didn’t move away.

Pedro was still flipping through your sketches when a sharp, saccharine voice cut through the air.

“Oh wow, there you are, Pedro. I was wondering when you’d finally come up for air.”

Cecilia.

You felt your whole body go rigid.

Pedro barely glanced up, his fingers still tracing one of your sketches absentmindedly. “Hey.” His voice was flat, distracted.

She took a step closer, her presence invasive in a way that made your skin prickle. “I was just telling the others how dedicated you are to your work. You know, always finding ways to get into character.” Her gaze flicked toward you, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Even off set.”

You swallowed hard.

Your chest felt tight, exhaustion pressing against your ribs, making it harder to keep your expression neutral. You were already hanging by a thread, stretched too thin over the last two days, and Cecilia knew it.

Pedro, still looking down at your notebook, gave a vague hum of acknowledgment, barely engaging. It wasn’t the reaction Cecilia had been hoping for, and you could see it. The way her expression twitched for half a second before smoothing over again.

She tilted her head, the corners of her mouth curling. “It’s sweet, though. That you take the time to entertain people. I mean, it’s not like everyone gets that kind of attention from you.” She let out a light, airy laugh that made your stomach turn. “Guess it pays to be in the right place at the right time, huh?”

The implication was clear.

You clenched your jaw, willing yourself not to react.

But then—

“Cecilia,” Pedro’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it now. His fingers tapped against the notebook, his expression unreadable. “What are you doing?”

Cecilia blinked, all faux innocence. “What do you mean?”

Pedro finally lifted his head, and when he met her gaze, something in his expression shifted—something sharp, something distinctly unimpressed.

“I mean, what are you doing?” His voice was just as smooth as before, but there was weight behind it now. “Because if you’re here to talk about the shoot, you should probably be talking to the crew.”

Cecilia’s smile faltered.

It was subtle, but you caught it.

She opened her mouth, probably to smooth things over, but Pedro was already looking back at you, tilting the notebook toward you slightly, as if she weren’t even standing there.

“You should finish this one,” he murmured, tapping his finger against the half-finished sketch of his profile. “It’s really good.”

You could feel Cecilia’s eyes burning into you, but Pedro wasn’t giving her anything to work with.

Her lips parted, like she might try again, but then she seemed to think better of it. Instead, she let out a small, sharp exhale through her nose, rolling her eyes as she turned on her heel and stalked off.

The moment she was gone, you let out a slow, shaky breath, your hands gripping your notebook a little tighter.

Pedro glanced over, brow furrowed. “You okay?”

You nodded, even though your throat was tight. “I just…” A deep inhale. “I think I need a break.”

Pedro studied you for a long moment. Then, without a word, he reached out, resting his hand over yours where it lay against the bench.

Warm. Steady.

Grounding.

“Let’s take one, then,” he murmured.

And for the first time in days, you let yourself lean into it.

The evening air was crisp, carrying the lingering scent of rain on the pavement as the last of the crew wrapped up for the day. You were exhausted, your body aching from hours on set, but when Pedro leaned in—voice low and warm—you felt something in you unwind.

“Wanna grab dinner before heading back?”

You blinked up at him, a little caught off guard. “Like… out-out?”

His lips quirked into a small smile, hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans. “Yeah. Out-out.”

You hesitated, glancing around as crew members bustled past, some already heading toward the shuttle van waiting to take everyone back to the hotel. “But, like… what if people see me with you?”

Pedro gave you a look. “So?”

“So… you’re you,” you gestured vaguely at him, “and I’m just—”

He cut you off with a quiet scoff, shaking his head. “Nope. We’re not doing that again. You’re you. And I wanna have dinner with you. End of discussion.”

The finality in his tone made your stomach flip.

You bit your lip, then nodded. “…Okay.”

Pedro’s face softened, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he bumped your shoulder lightly. “Good.”

By the time you both made it to the shuttle van, most of the cast and crew were already piling in.

Vanessa was the first to notice. She raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across her face. “Ohhh, where are you two off to?”

Before you could answer, Joseph leaned forward from his seat. “Are we witnessing a secret rendezvous?”

Ebon chuckled, shaking his head. “A little late-night dinner date?”

Coco, already buckled in, smirked knowingly. “Have funnnn,” she teased, dragging out the last syllable.

You rolled your eyes, heat creeping up your neck. Pedro, for his part, was completely unfazed, flashing them an easy smile as he opened the door for you. “Don’t wait up,” he called, earning a chorus of laughter and whistles from the others as he shut it behind you.

The restaurant wasn’t far—a quiet little spot tucked away from the main streets. The walk there was peaceful, the city buzzing around you but never pressing in too close.

Pedro, dressed down in a hoodie, jeans, a baseball cap, and his glasses, was trying his best to blend in. But even like this, effortlessly casual, he still had a presence. He still walked like he took up space, like the world had to move around him.

The height difference was almost comical. You felt it every time he turned his head down to look at you, every time his arm brushed against yours.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

You glanced up at him, caught off guard. “What?”

Pedro gave you a look, one that made it clear he wasn’t buying whatever act you thought you were pulling. “Cecilia.”

Your stomach twisted.

You exhaled slowly, shaking your head. “It’s not a big deal.”

Pedro stopped walking.

You took two more steps before realizing, turning back to find him standing there, arms crossed, brows drawn together in frustration.

He looked at you, really looked at you. “Of course, it’s a big deal,” he said, voice quieter now but firm. “If it’s hurting you, it’s a big deal.”

You swallowed.

The weight of his concern settled over you, warm and heavy. No one had ever really said that before. That what you were feeling mattered. That you weren’t just overreacting.

Something in your chest cracked open, just a little.

“…I just don’t want to make a thing out of it,” you admitted, voice small.

Pedro’s features softened. He stepped closer, dipping his head slightly to meet your eyes. “You don’t have to,” he murmured. “But you don’t have to pretend it doesn’t bother you, either.”

A lump formed in your throat.

And then, just as easily as he had turned serious, he pulled back, tilting his head toward the restaurant. “C’mon. Food first, then we plot Cecilia’s demise.”

A laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it.

Pedro grinned, pleased with himself, before nudging your shoulder with his own.

And as you walked the rest of the way, some of the weight on your chest didn’t feel quite so heavy anymore.

The restaurant was dimly lit, warm and intimate in a way that made the rest of the world feel far away. Soft jazz hummed through the air, mixing with the quiet murmur of conversation and the occasional clinking of glasses. The hostess greeted you both with a polite smile, barely sparing a glance at Pedro—either because she didn’t recognize him or, more likely, was being professional about it.

Pedro let you choose the table, and you picked one near the window, a cozy little booth that felt tucked away from the rest of the diners. As you slid into your seat, Pedro pulled off his cap, running a hand through his messy curls before setting it down on the table.

He looked… comfortable. Relaxed. And yet, there was still something unreadable in his expression as he watched you settle in.

“You know,” he started, leaning forward on his elbows, “I’m kind of mad at you.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What? Why?”

“Because,” he huffed, “I’ve been trying to get you alone for days, and the first time it actually happens, it’s because some Mean Girls knockoff has been making your life miserable.”

You snorted. “So dramatic.”

“I am dramatic,” he agreed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “But seriously. I don’t like that it took this for me to get to steal you away.”

There was something in the way he said it—lighthearted, sure, but laced with something else. Something quieter. More honest.

Your stomach flipped.

Before you could figure out how to respond, the waiter appeared, handing over menus. Pedro thanked him with a charming smile before glancing back at you. “What are you in the mood for?”

You shrugged, scanning the options. “Something warm.”

Pedro hummed. “Soup?”

“Maybe.”

“Or,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “we get a huge plate of pasta and reenact Lady and the Tramp.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Absolutely not.”

Pedro placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Wow. That was a little too fast. Like you’ve thought about rejecting me before.”

You bit your lip, trying to fight the smile threatening to break free. He made it so easy to forget the exhaustion pressing down on you, the weight of the last few days.

The waiter came back, and you both placed your orders—him getting some kind of hearty stew, you settling on a creamy pasta dish. The conversation flowed as effortlessly as ever, touching on everything and nothing all at once.

At some point, Pedro leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs out beneath the table. His knee brushed against yours, but he didn’t move away. Neither did you.

“So.” His voice was softer now, less teasing. “Cecilia.”

You sighed, slumping slightly. “Can we not?”

“We can,” Pedro allowed. “But I still hate it.”

You fiddled with the hem of your sleeve, tracing the fabric between your fingers. “It’s not like she’s saying anything outright cruel. Just little things. Looks. Comments. Stuff that doesn’t sound like much but still…”

Pedro’s jaw ticked. His fingers drummed absently against the table. “That’s how people like her work. They know how to make you feel like you’re imagining it.”

You swallowed, looking down. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence stretched between you. Then—

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

Your head snapped up. “What? No.”

Pedro tilted his head, eyeing you. “Why not?”

“Because,” you exhaled sharply, “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

His gaze softened, a flicker of something fond in his eyes. “I know you don’t. But I also know that you’re tired. And I hate seeing you like this.”

Something in you wavered.

Pedro sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I just—God, I don’t get it. How could anyone not adore you?”

Your breath hitched.

The words were so sincere, so effortless, like he wasn’t even trying to be charming—just saying what was in his heart.

Heat crept up your neck. You looked away, focusing on the flickering candle in the middle of the table. “You’re biased.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Pedro grinned. “And yet, here you are. Having dinner with me.”

“Unfortunately.”

He clutched his chest in mock agony. “You wound me.”

The waiter arrived with your food, and Pedro’s dramatic antics were temporarily forgotten as the delicious aroma filled the air. As you picked up your fork, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand—just for a second, just long enough to send a small shiver up your spine.

“Hey,” he murmured.

You glanced up, and for the first time all day, you felt seen.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Pedro said, voice gentle but firm. “You’re worth so much more than whatever bullshit she’s trying to pull.”

Something tightened in your chest.

You swallowed, nodding. “Okay.”

Pedro studied you for a moment, then smiled. “Good.”

The weight on your shoulders didn’t disappear entirely, but it softened, melted into something manageable under the glow of candlelight and Pedro’s unwavering attention. You let yourself relax, let yourself exist in this small, intimate moment where it was just the two of you, where the laughter was easy and the warmth between you was something real, something steady.

Pedro caught your gaze mid-conversation, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned in just slightly. “There she is.”

You blinked, tilting your head. “What?”

“That smile,” he said simply. “Haven’t seen it in a while.”

Heat bloomed in your chest, warm and unfamiliar, something delicate but deep. You rolled your eyes, but it lacked any real bite. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” Pedro teased, mirroring your words from earlier, “here you are.”

You shook your head, lips twitching. “Unfortunate, really.”

Pedro pressed a dramatic hand to his chest. “Wow. First, I get turned down for Lady and the Tramp, and now this? My ego is in shambles.”

You laughed, a real, unguarded sound, and he grinned like that was exactly what he was hoping for.

The conversation stretched long into the night, ebbing and flowing between playful teasing and quiet sincerity. The kind of talk that felt effortless, that felt safe.

Somewhere between the last bites of food and the soft hum of the restaurant around you, Pedro reached across the table, his fingers skimming yours. The touch was featherlight, a quiet question rather than a demand. You could have pulled away.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you let your fingers curl around his, grounding, steady.

Pedro didn’t say anything—he just squeezed your hand, a silent promise, and you squeezed back.

Outside, the night air was crisp, carrying the distant sounds of the city with it. The restaurant door shut softly behind you, leaving you and Pedro standing beneath the glow of streetlights, his cap pulled low, his glasses perched on his nose.

It should have felt different—stepping back into reality after the small bubble of warmth inside the restaurant. But somehow, it didn’t.

Pedro rocked back on his heels, hands tucked into his pockets. “Still okay?”

You exhaled, watching as your breath curled into the night air. “Yeah,” you admitted, surprising yourself. “I think I am.”

Pedro studied you for a beat, then nodded, satisfied.

It turns out Vanessa, Coco, Joseph and Ebon got dinner somewhere else in town away from the two of you and they were waiting already in the shuttle and as soon as you both stepped inside, the teasing started. “Ohhh, look who finally decided to show up,” Vanessa sang, kicking her feet up on the seat in front of her, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Joseph smirked from his spot by the window, arms crossed over his chest. “How romantic was it, really? Scale of one to ten?”

Coco grinned. “I’m betting solid eight.” Ebon scoffed. “Nah, Pedro’s smooth—at least a nine.” Pedro sighed dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You guys seriously have nothing better to do?” Vanessa waved a hand. “Nope. Now spill.” You rolled your eyes, buckling your seatbelt as the van pulled away from the curb. “We ate dinner. Like normal people. And then we walked outside. Like normal people.” Coco squinted. “That’s exactly what someone who did kiss would say.” Pedro groaned, leaning his head back against the seat, while you fought the smile tugging at your lips. Joseph held out his hands. “Okay, okay, let’s be serious for a second. Was it cute at least?” You blinked at him. “Was what cute?” “The date—” “It wasn’t a date,” you and Pedro said at the same time. A pause.

Then Vanessa gasped, clutching her chest. “You’re already finishing each other’s sentences?” “Oh my God,” Pedro mumbled under his breath. The laughter rolled through the van, easy and infectious, and despite the relentless teasing, despite the way your face burned under their knowing looks, you couldn’t help but feel… good.

The knot in your chest—the one that had been coiled so tight these past few days—had loosened. Maybe not completely, but enough that breathing didn’t feel so hard. Pedro shifted beside you, turning his head so only you could hear him. “They’re never gonna let this go.” You sighed. “Yeah. I figured.” His shoulder brushed yours, a quiet reassurance, and when he spoke again, there was something soft in his voice. “You sure you’re okay?” You hesitated. Because truthfully, the weight of the past few days still sat heavy on your shoulders. Cecilia had made sure of that. The quiet digs, the passive-aggressive comments, the knowing smirks—it was a kind of exhaustion that seeped into your bones. But right now, in the warmth of this moment, with Pedro looking at you like he actually cared about the answer, you found yourself saying— “I think I will be.” Pedro studied you for a beat, then nodded, satisfied. It was a small thing—just a simple gesture, barely more than a shift of his head. But somehow, it carried more weight than it should have, like he was silently saying I see you. I hear you. You swallowed. It was nice to have a friend. But then—was that all this was? You glanced at him again, at the way he was sat with you so easily, like he’d always been meant to be there. At the way he felt beside you, like a quiet anchor in the storm of the last few days.

End Notes:

I told you there would be drama O_O

Again, no hate to any girlie named Cecilia, everyone calm.

Don’t worry girlies… it will turn out fine, mostly… I think… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

YA'LL SEEN THE TEASER TRAILER!?!?!? IM UNWELL AND DYING AND SO EXCITED AND I WANT TO MELT AND DIE VANESSA KIRBY YOU LUCKY WOMAN I WANNA KISS HIM TOO T^T

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca @greenwitchfromthewoods @iqr-x @southernbe @maryfanson @brittmb115 @klajmekk @taytay0403 @whimsiwitchy @zymiii @sarahhxx03 @leilanixx @lilasskicker-23 @https-murdock @barnescamboy

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fan fiction #pedro pascal gifs #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader masterlist #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x ofc #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x plus size reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x fem!reader #pedro pascal series masterlist

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revelboo · 4 months ago

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Transformers x Reader Headcannons- problems

Pretty much how I write and overthink their personalities, actions, and motives. Soundwave, Starscream, Megatron, Ratchet, Wheeljack, and Jazz.

Starscream

• Can’t stop self sabotaging. As much as he hates Megatron, he’s his own worst enemy. Fueled by self-loathing, ambition, and spite. If every good thing is just going to be taken away, he might as well destroy it himself and take some petty satisfaction in watching it burn.

• You, though? He wants to protect this feeling you kindle in him. Even if he doesn’t truly trust that it’s real, he wants to pretend it is. Needs you to play along with him. Fiercely possessive because you’re his.

Megatron

• Exhausted all the time. With all that’s been lost, he can’t just stop at this point. There’s no peaceful end even if he almost wishes there was. The Decepticons look to him, believe that he’ll bring them home. To a better world. That guilt and responsibility fuels his hatred, keeping it going. If he fails, it’s all for nothing.

• They’re always watching. Looking for weakness to exploit. There’s always machinations among his officers, plots and schemes. You have no ulterior motives beyond survival and he can respect that. Even so, you’re willing to meet his optics even though you know who he is and what he’s capable of. Brave, foolish little thing.

Wheeljack

• Absentmindedly creating problems in the name of science. Is genuinely surprised when something blows right up in his face no matter how many times it happens. Forgets to refuel and recharge until someone says something or he just crashes. Generally avoided by everyone because of how often his experiments spectacularly fail.

• Even if he’s engrossed in an experiment, if you’re around, his attention is divided. You crash a lot faster than he does and guilt prompts him to take a break, because you definitely don’t look comfortable cheek propped up on a hand, sound asleep. He’s awful at taking care of himself, but surprisingly attentive toward you. Constantly worried because you’re just so fragile compared to Cybertronians.

Jazz

• Smiling through the stress. Seriously, he’s on a knife’s edge of anxiety all the time even as he plays it off. Everything’s a joke. Everything’s fine. Even if he wants to just scream, he keeps that easy going smile in place. It’s his armor and he needs it to convince himself as much as everyone else.

• Somehow you see right through him. You can lay a tiny hand on his plating and he just unravels. And you don’t expect him to just keep smiling through the pain. He doesn’t have to keep the act up, he can vent to you, bleed all the anger and frustration out instead of pretending it away. And he needs this more than you know.

Ratchet

• Gruff and caustic, that angry exasperation is all defense, pushing others away with sarcasm. No matter how quickly he works after a battle, the wounded just keep coming. Sometimes he’s not fast enough. A spark gutters out while his hands are wrist deep in another patient. He’s not enough. If he loses someone, it’s his fault. His burden and his blame to the point where sometimes his servos just won’t stop trembling.

• Somehow you understand that if you try to comfort him, he’ll fall apart. There’ll be time to grieve later, but right now the two of you work to save who you can, your little hands able to reach things he can’t. You don’t complain, just do what’s necessary. Later, he’ll cup you to his chassis, silent as you break.

Soundwave

• The worst part of being able to hear other’s thoughts? They never stop. It’s a constant sensory barrage threatening to overwhelm him unless he makes a conscious effort of block them out, so he’s always on guard. Can never relax or that tide of voices crashes over him. Finding out he can’t even block out human thoughts is a shock. You’re there in the back of his processor all the time.

• It’s why he needs you to sing for him. Doesn’t matter what it is, he just needs that one thing to focus on so everything else fades into background noise. The more you lose yourself in the song, the more he can relax, because you relax. Your thoughts calm.

#starscream x reader #megatron x reader #soundwave x reader #wheeljack x reader #jazz x reader #ratchet x reader #transformers #idw starscream #idw megatron #idw soundwave

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inkdrinkerworld · 9 months ago

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hi can i request a rockstar!remus drabble where he is super touchy with reader and the guys r js teasing them hahah thank you i love your writing🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

“Dove,” Remus’ voice is scratchy and a little worn from all the shows. Singing and playing the bass for almost twenty nine shows in half as many weeks has him worn and a little frayed, but he’s still the same Remus.

You’re in the hotel room with him, Sirius and James, the four of you having a cup of tea and trying to relax after the last round of shows. Or well at least you’re trying to have a cup of tea, but your boyfriend keeps calling you away from the kitchenette to his side with a pitiful whine and his pretty honey eyes.

“Two minutes Rem,” you’re determined to finish making his tea- a ginger and honey blend that you’re sure he hates but you know he’ll drink it- and yours, a regular black.

“Give the girl some space, Moony. Haven’t let her have a moment alone since she got here.” Sirius is teasing, a wide smirk on his face as he sips his own tea. Remus doesn’t find him funny though. He also doesn’t see the humour in James’ raucous laugh because this is the first time he’s left Lily alone since she got in and that’s because she locked the door while in the shower.

“Here I am,” you say coolly before Remus could reply to Sirius with a snarky comment.

“Thank you dove.” He takes a sip of his tea gratefully before tugging you a little closer and you’re practically fused to his side, with your knees pressing into the space between his back and the sofa. Remus’ hand stays glued to the dip in your waist, slipping under the fabric of your t-shirt to caress the skin there.

“Tired?”

Remus hums, not caring that his friends are mocking you both now. “Yeah, thank god we’ve got that two week break.” You hand combs through his hair, watching with a smile, behind your cup of tea, as his eyes flutter shut and he heaves a sigh.

“Look at him, all knackered the second you stroke his head. He’s like a bloody cat.” Sirius snickers and this time Remus chucks a cushion at him even as he cuddles closer to you.

“Give the man a break Siri, had to be without his girl for a whole three weeks.” James’ comment makes Sirius laugh even louder and you save your boyfriend from any further teasing.

“Weren’t you the same one begging Lily to stay with you for the second leg of this tour, Jamie?” His cheeks turn red and Remus chuckles, making Sirius shake his head playfully.

“I’m gonna go see if Marls needs any help,” you snicker, you all know what it’s code for. James follows it up with a, “M’gonna go check on Lils.”

Remus huffs, a smile on his face. “Oh yeah, go be more lovesick than I am.”

When they leave, Remus sets both your mugs down, pushing your body to lay flat on the sofa before splaying out over you.

“Missed you so much.” he kisses your stomach, pulling up your shirt so he can lay his head flat against your skin.

“Missed you too Remmy, get some sleep love.”

#remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x black reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin x y/n #rockstar!remus #rockstar!remus lupin #bassist!remus

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goosem1lk · 2 years ago

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Stay With Me

Pairing - Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Synopsis - established relationship. You’re straddling his lap while you two enjoy your personal time together.

Word count - 0.3k

Warnings - none, fluff

This was inspired by someone else’s story, I can’t remember which but if I find it I will tag it

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Simons eyebrows are subtly furrowed as he asks, as if he’s sure you’re up to no good. His hands rest on your thighs, his thumbs moving in slow, steady circles. Your bodies are near flush, and the heat radiating off him is so comforting that you just want to wrap yourself in it.

“Cause I find you beautiful.”

He’s stunned. Eyes widening and jaw relaxing, his fingers gently digging into your thigh; inching you closer.

“You’re really beautiful.”

Your eyes languidly roam over his slack face; so calm and gentle and loving. Your palms slide up his stubbly jaw; cupping the side of his face as you delicately kiss his forehead, trailing soft kisses down his strong nose, his curious eyes; kissing the lids as his soft lashes tickle your lips, his expectant lips. With each kiss, all there is is you. You. Oh how he adores you. How he sees you. In all that you are and all that you’ve been and become. Your love stuns him, your devotion makes his chest clench and he can’t tell if he hates the pain or loves the reminder of you. He’s calm with you, relaxed and at ease, and then you’ll remind him that he is worth more than the stars and the planets combined and his pulse races, he gasps you in, inhales your love to the point he’s not sure he’s even breathing air anymore, it’s just you. Oh how you make his heart sing. He wants to hold you, cradle you and love you and show you just how good you make him feel. How he feels the most human he’s ever felt when you’re with him. It’s so simple and true and his eyes sting with tears because where have you been?

“Please don’t ever leave me,” he gently begs, pulling your forehead to rest against his.

“My love,” you whisper back, palm still cradling his beautiful, beautiful face, “the stars could fall from the sky and I would stay in your arms through it all.”

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod ghost #cod simon riley #cod x reader #x reader #cod #simon riley #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #ghost x reader fluff #Simon riley x reader fluff

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thoughtfulfiction · 3 months ago

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Hot in Herre

Author’s note: Here we are, I’ve been bitten by the Joe bug. My first Burrow fic and my first time in a LONG time not writing Justin so here we go!

“Oh baby, there’s absolutely no way you’re getting out of this. A bet is a bet remember?”

If looks could kill, you’d be long gone by the death glare that you’re met with. “This isn’t fair. How in the world did you eat that entire plate without reaching for your drink once? Monster.” He thinks his nose may be running and his lips are on fire but you seem to be relaxed and carefree sitting across from him on the couch. You pat him on the leg as a sign of pity, which you know he hates. You’re just celebrating your win appropriately, silently rubbing it in his face. You know it’d be much worse if the roles were reversed so you don’t feel as bad.

He carefully moves his leg out of your reach, crossing his arms over his chest and continuing his mini temper tantrum, all because of one little challenge that he didn’t win.

You scoot closer to him, grabbing his hand, “now Joseph, don’t be a sore loser.”

“Have you ever met me?” He cracks a smile, no matter how badly he doesn’t want to. You making small circles on his hand with your thumb almost always makes him melt, like putty in your hands, just for a second until he remembers his devastating loss. “Be honest with me,” he narrows his eyes, “how did you do it?”

Leaning in without breaking eye contact you whisper, “I will never reveal my secrets. And I’ll be making a reservation for two on Friday night so I expect you to be ready.” With a swift kiss on the cheek, you leave him stuck in his seat.

The day started out as any normal bye week Wednesday, Joe got up early to get a workout in, his body fully recovered from the recent beatings he’d taken during games, and spent most of the afternoon mulling over ever life choice he’s ever made on the couch or in his office. You could practically hears the gears turning in his brain, pondering the different scenarios that needed to happen in order for the Bengals to scratch and claw their way into the playoffs.

Of course you wanted to be a positive and supportive partner, a shoulder to cry on when needed and someone to bounce ideas off of, but the fact of the matter was that this may be a long shot and the season looked more over by the minute. Not that you would ever say that out loud. So instead, you suggested a little game for dinner, Joe’s second of the night and your first and only. Most of the time his eating schedule was hard to keep up with.

You knew that he loved spicy food and his chef just had some Carolina Reapers delivered, some of the hottest peppers he could find. Desperately trying to get him out of his head, you made two noodle dishes with the peppers, stating that the first person to take a drink loses. If he won, he’d get three uninterrupted video game nights a week whenever he wanted for a month. And if you won? A karaoke date.

Which led you to today and would explain Joe’s visceral reaction at the thought of singing. Or having any fun during a very NOT fun time in his life. Alas, you were determined to make this an enjoyable experience for everyone involved. Hopefully.

As much as Joe dreaded it, Friday came and it was time to go. He watched somewhat happily as you bounded down the stairs, snatching the keys on the counter and asking him if he was ready to leave. You could tell he wanted to ask you why he couldn’t drive, but he swallowed his pride and let himself be the passenger prince for once. This week was meant for relaxation, letting his hair down and stepping away from the disappointment of the team underperforming based on his and the entire NFL world’s expectations. The more time passed, the more people were starting to believe that maybe their best days were behind them. That 2021 playoff run was in the rear view mirror and the possibility of getting back to that caliber looked near impossible.

You spent the entire drive thinking about how the weight of it all was clearly weighing on him and you just wanted to help him lighten that load by doing something you both considered silly and meaningless. Joe’s unwavering focus and need for a routine during the season was impressive and admirable, but you needed to let him know this week that life was still full of little pleasures. You hoped that day would serve to remind him of that.

The two of you walked into the dimly lit room, ushered through the back where your private karaoke space awaited. Neon lights adorned the place and made you feel like you were in some coming of age film, except you already had the guy you wanted.

“This place is huge,” your boyfriend notes, looking around suspiciously. “It’s just gonna be the two of us, right? Because I’m not singing for an audience.”

“You play in front of 65,000 people at home games but THIS is where you draw the line?” You laugh.

He shrugs his shoulders, taking a seat on the leather couch with a water bottle firmly in hand. “That’s different, I spend all week getting prepared, studying my opponent, going to practice. It’s just football. This is…not my area of expertise.”

“I don’t want you to be perfect, I want you to have fun.” Joe sighs at your words, glancing towards you slightly in awe as you mindlessly look through the song selection. You set your sights on the perfect song, gently grabbing the mic and getting yourself mentally prepared.

Joe playfully rolls his eyes at you tiny imitation of him meditating and getting in the zone before a game. “You ready?” He asks.

After a firm nod, you hear the music play, Chandelier by Sia blasting on the speakers. Joe had heard your rendition of the song in the shower on many occasions, but now he’d be listening to you on the big stage.

You loved having his full attention for a few hours, the way his icy blue eyes looked softer in this light, the way the smile reached his eyes when you sang a note a little off key and kept going…you might have even started singing a little louder to really drive the performance home. He gave you a standing ovation when you were done shaking his head as he laughed, the previous tension in his shoulders had disappeared and you were grateful because it was there so frequently you thought it had become permanent and he’d never relax again. But there he was, bright eyed and highly amused at your conviction in committing to the bit and your ability to never take yourself too seriously. It was one of his favorite things about you, the confidence you had in yourself and your ability to make those around you at ease. And he felt bad for not telling you enough how much that really meant to him. The least he could do now was give you the performance of a lifetime.

“Alright,” he sighs walking closer to you, grabbing the purple mic off the rack, “watch and learn.”

“Oh? The reluctant student has become the master. I like where this is going.” A subtle hint of his cocky demeanor sends shivers down your spine, and you try your best to ignore whatever is going on between your legs.

Even if you did try to tell anyone tonight happened, they wouldn’t believe you. There’s no way on earth that Joe Burrow actually got up and sang the entirety of Hot in Herre by Nelly without missing a single word. No chance. And yet…here you were witnessing a moment in history that fascinated and mesmerized you so much that you didn’t even reach for your phone to record it. Living in the moment, enjoying the feeling of his hands on you waist, pulling you in so that your bodies were close enough to use the same mic while you did the ad-libs was everything you could’ve asked for, and more, out of this karaoke date night.

When the music stopped playing, you were too gobsmacked to even laugh let alone form a coherent thought. “Where the hell did that come from?”

He’s always keeping you on your toes, that’s for sure, but this came out of left field. Way left.

“I don’t know,” he laughs, parking himself next to you running his fingers through his barely there blond tips. “Saw you have fun with it and I just thought, why not do the same?”

“Well I’m very impressed. And I think we should do another song.”

So you did, for the next hour. Kid Cudi was on the Setlist of course, a little Beyoncé thrown in there and by the end of your reserved time neither of you could remember the last time you’d laughed as hard or as often during football season. All of that just reenforced the fact that he really needed tonight.

You let Joe drive the two of you home, feeling him pause before pulling out of the parking lot.

“What’s on your mind?” Your voice was gentle, soothing him and making seemingly all of his problems vanish into the night.

He grabs your hand over the center console, looking over with so much love in his eyes. “I just wanted to thank you. For today. For—for everyday. I know this isn’t the most fun time and I haven’t been the easiest or most fun to be around but, you’re always here for me and I appreciate that more than I can say out loud. So this is me…trying to be better.”

“Honey, I am so proud of you. Just couldn’t keep sitting there, letting you blame yourself for everything that’s going wrong. You deserve the world and I can’t give you that but I can give you goofy little date nights. I hope that’s enough.”

The quarterback smiles, letting one hand rest on your cheek, “it’s more than enough. I just wish I could do more for the team you know? I don’t play defense but maybe I’m not leading them enough or motivating guys to be at their best?”

“No, stop. A year ago you were about to have season ending wrist surgery that no quarterback has ever gone through before. Now you’re statistically the best quarterback in the league and you’re playing the best you’ve ever played in your entire life. I know you’re not happy with where the team is at but you should be over the moon about how far you’ve come and how far you can go. I’ll be with you every step of the way, you know that.”

You can tell he’s about to open his mouth to downplay your words so you continue before he can put a stop to it. “If your performance post injury isn’t enough of an example or enough of a motivation tactic then that’s on them. You are putting your best foot forward daily and if they aren’t matching that energy then things need to change. Things that don’t include you. I may be biased but I think you’re perfect,” you give him a peck on the lips, feeling the smile on the corner of his mouth beginning to form.

He put the car in the drive, shaking his head. “You’re just saying that because I sang Nelly for you.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement. I��m just very glad I won the bet.”

#joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic

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coffeeisfortheresponsible · 6 months ago

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i try not to get too emotional about ninjago but does anyone else actually tear up watching that one clip of the ninja dancing and singing together in laughy’s?

like they try so hard to be happy despite everything they’ve been through, and it’s about to be ripped away from them again.

and it’s only made worse by the fact that lloyd feels like he can’t relax and join them because he knows they aren’t safe. he’s terrified that it’s not over and guess what! he’s right!

and hes not even being over cautious. he’s not being dramatic. he knows they never catch a break so he doesn’t see the point it fighting to be happy when he knows he will be pushed back under the water the next week.

to me that’s the tragedy of lloyd’s character in the oni trilogy: he goes from someone who always sees the good in people and finds the light in every situation to completely giving up hope. and the worst part about this is that it’s not a skewed belief that he heals from. no, he finally starts viewing everything pessimistically and it turns out he’s right. that his pessimism is reality.

how messed up is it that he loses hope in things ever turning out okay and he’s right. that there really is no hope for them to be a happy family. too much has happened and will continue to happen and he can’t undo or prevent any of it.

i hate this show i love the angst but sometimes it gets to me i just want them to be happy for once

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ciftrchats

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a-hazbin-reader · 1 year ago

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HII I just wanted to say I simply adore your Alastor headcannons.. ❤️

I unsure if you’re accepting request but if you aren’t you can ignore this one 😅

I was thinking of a pining Alastor with a fem reader who never sings. Like she has always hated musicals, and ever since she’s been in hell she noticed it’s just one big musical. And the moment they finally actually open up and sing.. it’s not with Alastor. But probably Angel to make him feel better.. So he’s all jealous that the reader hasn’t sung with him.

And at the end they share a lil love duet and slow dance .. like, singing at last by Etta James..

I don’t know..I just love how you write Alastor. Your writing is absolutely phenomenal. 💕

I've been avoiding this one because it makes me think of Nix- 😭

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being a MENACE, Grumpy!Reader, Mentions of Drunk!Reader

Description: 👆⬆️

You don't sing, you're not the kind of person who's just going to break out into song like everyone else around you

You sang along to music, sometimes sure, or maybe even sang to yourself, but you didn't live life like you're in a musical

You had better things to do with your time than dancing around to mysterious music and making up words on the fly

It was something that annoyed Alastor because no matter how hard he tried to get you to join him in his little song and dance, you just walked away

And left him feeling ridiculous for even trying to make music with you

Good

Your serious demeanor and closed off nature only served to make him want to win you over even more

He doesn't like people being a mystery to him, he wants to know what you're thinking and how you're feeling all the time

For the sake of knowledge, of course, not out of any romantic desire or anything as ridiculous as that

After several failed attempts to get you to sing, Alastor just assumes you've got a bad singing voice and gives up

Only to be PISSED when he's proven wrong because WHY WON'T YOU SING WITH HIM

He finds you holding Angel to your chest and singing to him, the poor spider holding back tears as he relaxes into your arms

Alastor just hides and listens to the sound of your voice more confused than ever as to why you don't sing

You have a BEAUTIFUL VOICE

It reignites his desire to get you to sing with him and he becomes more of a pest than ever for you

He tries to trick you into humming or singing, turning on the radio when you two are alone in hopes that you'll take a liking to a song

"Do you have a particular music preference, my dear?"

"Can't say I do, whatever you pick is fine."

You only roll your eyes and continue looking at your book, the only sign that you like the music is your leg bouncing to the beat

He later catches you humming a little tune with Niffty as the two of you clean up together, the happy look on your face is the most precious thing he's seen

Alastor tries to invite you out to a concert/musical, waving two tickets in front of your face

"What do you say, my dear~? You and I listening to the most wonderful music in hell together?"

Only to watch your face scrunch up at the idea and realize that he's about to be rejected

"That's not really my thing, maybe you can get Charlie to go with you."

He ends up giving the tickets to Charlie and Vaggie, letting the two of them have a date night

You're smiling and singing a little song with Husk later that night, cooking a late night dish with him

He sulks the entire night and glares at you whenever your paths cross because HOW DARE YOU

WITH HUSKER!?

He even tries taking everyone to a karaoke bar and pulling you up on stage, hoping you're drunk enough that you'll sing

Only to be the victim of your drunken rage and get body slammed into a table instead because he startled you

"Alastor!! Are you okay!? Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I will pay for the table!"

Charlie is panicking because everyone is STARING, but you just glare down at him, cheeks flushed from the booze

"Don't... sneak up on me like that..."

He'd be lying if he said it didn't turn him on a little, laying there still in shock over what happened

"Understood."

Later, he hears you singing along to a song someone else is singing to. You're so drunk by that point that he doubts you even realize you're doing it

But you still sound so good even when your words are slurred and you're not even singing the right song

It gets to the point where Alastor's mood sours whenever you sing because he wants to sing with you but you always turn him down

You're trying to open up more but it's difficult to open up to someone like Alastor because it's impossible to know if he can be trusted

Your better judgment tells you no, but your heart whispers that you should give him a chance

Alastor just wants a duet with you so badly

You two would kill it, and he knows it

He's playing at the piano one day, singing to himself for entertainment more than anything

It's a song from his childhood, bringing up memories of happier times with his mother

When you suddenly saddle up next to him and begin to play as well, adding another layer to his song

His tail wagging and the way his eyes light up are the only indication he gives that he's excited by your presence

He keeps singing, feeling renewed by your musical accompaniment and really enjoying the music

Only to be graced with the sound of your own voice joining him, your hands briefly crossing over each others to play the right notes

The simple graze is electric for both of you, but neither would admit for years to come

He was right, you two sound better than anything he's ever heard before and he can't help but look at you because surely you feel it too??

Only to be flustered by the blush on your face and the small smile you give him, obviously pushed beyond your comfort zone but trying hard

It's all he can do to swallow the lump in his throat and focus on the song instead of how good you look or how beautiful you sound

Only when the song is over do you two realize how close your faces have gotten, gazing into each other's eyes like lovesick teenagers

You both are leaning in closer, gazes drifting down to lips-

When Alastor suddenly jerks away and walks across the room from you, his face burning from the realization of what almost happened

You deflate a bit and worry that you read him wrong, standing up so you can leave with your pride still intact

"Alastor, I'm so-"

Suddenly, the radio comes to life, Alastor picking a station with a slow romantic song playing before holding his hand out to you

"Care to dance, my dear? It'd be a shame to let such a good song go to waste..!"

You're both blushing and avoiding looking each other in the eye but you take his hand anyways, being pulled flush against him

If anyone were to peek in and see you two, it would certainly look like you two were a couple dancing to a romantic song and having a moment

Alastor has one hand on your hip while the other gently holds your hand, your head resting against him in an attempt to hide how embarrassed you are

His ears are folded back, and the smile on his face is wobbly and awkward, your other hand on his shoulder suddenly seemingly very interesting

Good thing nobody is peeking in on you two, except everyone is peeking in and passing around cash

"Pay up Angel, Husk, Charlie won fair and square."

I hope you guys like it 💓

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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charmedimsure · 18 days ago

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hi may i Request some player 388 x male reader oneshot where reader has a nightmare and talks in his sleep about dangerous rabbits and muffins amd player 388 tries to calm him ans help him?

DRURY LANE || kang dae-ho

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x gn!reader

summary: Dae-ho wakes you up after hearing you having some weird nightmares.

word count: 500 (just a little guy 😊)

warnings: drug use, nightmare

A/N: i changed it a little because i thought it was pretty funny. i hope you don't mind that i made the reader gender neutral. if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

"Hey, wake up!"

You jolt awake, breathing heavily, your entire body damp with sweat. You jump when a hand gently rests on your back, but you relax when you see the concerned face of your teammate.

"Holy shit," you breathe out, putting your head in your hands.

"Are you alright? That seemed like a pretty rough dream," he says, rubbing your back.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you say, still breathing deeply. "I don't even remember what it was about, but I was so certain that I was gonna die!"

You watch as Dae-ho tries to fight the smile threatening to take over his face.

You give him a questioning look. "What?"

A small laugh escapes him and he covers his mouth with his fist to stop another one from coming. "I, uh, might have some idea as to what you were dreaming about."

You give him a confused look before your eyebrows shoot up. "Oh yeah, people used to tell me that I talk in my sleep. Did I say anything?"

Dae-ho is now trying so hard to hold back his laughter that you fear he might puke. He opens his mouth to try to speak but just falls into another fit of giggles.

Your face drops, a small smile coming onto your own face. "Oh no. What did I say?"

He finally manages to compose himself. "Oh, you know, just that the muffin man sent giant rabbits to capture you and bring you back to his lair."

You feel your face heat up as he laughs. Right, now you remember the dream. It seemed a lot scarier while you were dreaming it.

"Has this happened to you before and you're having flashbacks in your sleep?" Dae-ho asks, trying to sound genuine but his smile giving him away. "What did you do to the muffin man that he's now seeking revenge on you?"

You slap his arm, making him break into a fit of giggles. "Look," you say, your voice laced with laughter, "Thanos let me try one of his pills."

He raises an eyebrow at you, an amused smile still on his face. "You took one of those?!"

You shush him, looking around to make sure you haven't woken anyone. "Just like a third of one, not even," you say. "I just wanted to see what it was like. Figured there's a good chance I'll die in here anyway so what the hell."

Dae-ho puts his head in his hands, his body shaking with silent laughter. He looks back up at you, tears in his eyes from his giggling. "Why rabbits?"

You groan. "Do you think if I knock on the door and ask the guard to shoot me they'll do it?"

The boy lets out another laugh, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to his chest. "Aw, I'm just kidding. Do you want me to sing you back to sleep?"

"No."

"Do you know the muffin man, the muffin ma-"

"I hate you."

"You love me."

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a @sawlover353 @jspidey5 @skywalker0809 @zannispppp @lianobody @ihrthoney @machii-d3arr

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck @ally1uvsu @hiphip-horray @k1michii @tpwkcaryslizb @louissst28 @sshwaa @jennwonwoo @sunnysurvives @lalalaa2210 @tayshs @sunshinethatlooksalive @plntmxrss @lxnnrobin @mariaxman @alexx-iia @batty-barty-crouchjr @kxsm3t @takuma-talkz @peacemakersbeloved @skywalker0809 @soobinbunnie5 @dragons-h0ard @silas-222 @putrescentpoet @chrisgetsmewetter @sunhyeswife @smile1318 @casually-simping @slvtforfakemen @ang3licbabydolly

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist :)

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #player 388 #dae ho #dae-ho #kang dae ho #x reader #kang daeho #dae ho squid game #dae ho x reader #kang dae ho x reader #player 388 x reader

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torakowalski · 6 months ago

Text

Apols for the delay but Swimmer Steve is back and pretty much exactly where we last left him.

(part one | part six)

"Fuck," says Steve. "Fuck." He hasn't said much of anything else since he came out of the changing rooms, still damp and kind of stunned-looking.

"Fuck," Eddie agrees.

Steve looks at him, a smile starting to spread across his face, going on and on like it might be endless.

God, he's handsome.

God, Eddie is stupid in love with him.

"Olympics, baby!" Eddie crows. They've already hugged; Steve got a hug from everyone, as soon as he emerged. Eddie wants to hug him again, but that would probably be too much.

"Fuck," says Steve and sits down on the floor between their two beds.

Eddie shrugs to himself and sits down with him.

They've only come back to the hotel so Steve can get showered and changed before the celebration dinner that the kids have planned. Or, actually, Steve has come back to the hotel for that; thinking about it, Eddie's not sure why he came with, except that it just felt natural.

Either way, looks like they're going to take longer than expected.

"All good?" Eddie asks, just in case.

"Jesus Christ," says Steve, which is a change from fuck and laughs. He lifts his hands up to cover his face and when he lowers them again, his eyes are wet. "The Olympics, Eddie."

Eddie nods, can't do anything but smile stupidly back at him. He doesn't think he's ever seen Steve this open and relaxed and delighted. "The Olympics, Steve."

Steve rubs at his eyes with his fingertips, mostly just making his eyelashes damper and darker from his happy tears. "You know when you've wanted something your whole damn life, but you never really thought you'd get it? It feels fucking wild to get it."

Eddie thinks about his guitar, his band, how badly he wants to stand on a stage looking out at thousands of people who all want to hear what he has to sing. Then he reminds himself that this is Steve's moment.

"I bet," he says. "Congrats. You've worked damn hard and you absolutely deserve it."

Steve leans over and bumps their shoulders together. "You're coming with me, right?"

Eddie blinks. "Where?"

"... the Olympics," says Steve, like it should be obvious.

Eddie blinks some more. "Steve. Sweetheart. Steve. The Olympics are in Korea."

"Mm," Steve agrees, "but the war's over, it's totally safe there now."

Eddie loves and hates that Steve thinks that might be the only thing putting Eddie off.

Eddie stretches his legs out so they disappear under Steve's bed and hopes there's nothing really gross under there that'll stick to his jeans. "Look, the literal only reason I've been able to afford rocking up and down the country with you is government hush money and the fact you keep buying all my meals. There's no way I can stretch to plane tickets, and I'd need my own hotel room, right? 'cause you'll be living in the athletes village?"

He could have kept going, obviously he could have kept going, but he stops there because Steve is waving a hand at him.

"What? Don't say you'll pay. There's no way you have that much extra cash, either."

"Nah," Steve says, "but my dad does. And I will be fully, fully back on the credit card, after he finds out about this."

Eddie makes a face. "But we hate your dad?"

"We really do," Steve agrees, smile not even dimming. "But we love spending his money on shit he'll hate." He drops a hand to Eddie's knee, giving it a squeeze and a shake. "You'll come, right?"

"... You should take Robin," Eddie tries, one last attempt to be a good person. "Or the kids. God, the kids would shit."

Steve leaves his hand on Eddie's knee, like that's just a place where it goes now. "I'd take them all, if I could... Plus like, all their parents to keep an eye on them, but they'll all be back in school by the time the Olympics start. None of them can take like, three weeks out."

"I bet Erica could wrangle it," Eddie points out.

Steve makes a guilty face. "Love Erica, but I don't think we have the kind of relationship where we hop over to Asia, just the two of us. You know?"

Eddie wants to ask, And we do? But they do. He knows they do.

"I don't know," he says. It's a big fucking deal. He's never left the country before and he'd love to, but he really does hate Steve's dad and all he chooses to be. The idea of being beholden to him for that big a favour sits wrong in his gut, even if Mr Harrington never actually knows about it.

"Eddie," Steve says, like he's prepared to wheedle for what he wants. Then he stops, takes a breath, shakes his head. "I know it's a big ask and obviously you don't have to, if you really don't want to. I kind of just, I can't, I can't imagine doing this without you."

Eddie claps a hand to his chest. "Right in the flattery gland, Harrington."

Steve slides his hand up Eddie's leg and squeezes his thigh. Is this going to be a thing? Is Eddie going to have to get Robin to have a word with him about this soon?

"You're the whole reason I've got this far," Steve tells him, all close and sincere. "If you don't want to come, that'll suck, but it's okay. I just wanna make sure that you know I appreciate everything you've done."

Eddie knows every mole on Steve's face, but Steve's close enough now to reveal a few previously unknown freckles.

Eddie chuckles weakly. "Personal space?" he suggests.

"Overrated," Steve says and then.

And then.

And then he presses his lips carefully against Eddie's.

"What?" Eddie croaks. He can feel his breath dance off Steve's mouth.

"Thank you," Steve says and kisses him again, a little firmer, a little damper this time.

"I..." Eddie is a goddamn fucking hero because he makes himself lean back. "Don't. You can't. Don't kiss me to say thank you. That's not... Don't. Please."

He's expecting Steve to sit back, blush and apologise and explain he had to best of intentions. Instead, Steve lifts the hand not on Eddie's thigh and touches his cheek. "Can I kiss you 'cause I can't imagine not kissing you?"

The centre of Eddie's chest throbs. Even he doesn't know what that means. "You don't want to kiss me," he manages.

"Kinda really do," Steve says. "So? Can I?"

(continued here)

#stranger things #steve harrington #swimmer steve #steddie #snippets #eddie munson #olympics au

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p0lyn3sian · 5 months ago

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The Sawyer + Thomas with an s/o headcannons when they are prego?

AHHH OFFFCCC!!!

(I definitely need to work on writing more for Nubbins & Chop-top, for Drayton it's a maybe!! I kinda suck at writing the other three Sawyers 😔!!)

The Sawyers + Thomas w/ their S/O that's pregnant (Headcannon)!!

Drayton Sawyer:

Drayton sometimes gets annoyed by you demanding him to do stuff for you. Drayton feels bad if you start crying, or you get really emotional because of some things.. Drayton will also try and soothe you whatever you're emotional about!

If you ask for cuddles because you are cold or you either want to just cuddle, Drayton will cuddle with you if you want to! Drayton would do his famous chili when you are really hungry too! He would absolutely yell at his brothers to shut up if they're being loud, and just let you relax in quietness. If you ask him to massage you, Drayton will do it but only a few minutes and then he's done. But overall, Drayton loves you and tries his best to take care of you and the baby!

Nubbins Sawyer:

Nubbins would try and soothe you whenever you feel really emotional about something. Here are some things that Nubbins would try to soothe you, he would try hugging you, make you laugh with his singing voice, or tickling you! (I can already imagine this boy would try to sing, and it ends up making you die of laughter from his singing 🤣.)

He'll be kissing your baby bump so many times, and rub his cheek on your baby bump too! Nubbins will try not to bring any dead animals beside you or smell like those too. He'll definitely cuddle with you to sleep when you ask him to!

Chop-Top Sawyer:

Chop-top isn't really good at soothing you, but he tries at least which you are thankful for! He'll try looking through his other music boxes to find slow music for you! He'll also soothe you with his cuddles, but it's kinda awkward for him, so you had to try and soothe him for that too!

He would definitely praise you, and you would praise him too for taking care of you and the baby! Chop-top would try doing the things you want, for you and your baby!

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba is always worried about you and the baby! Sometimes when you want to try and sit up on your shared bed, you always have problems because now that your baby is getting bigger, so is your stomach! Which always ends up getting you mad and sad that you can't sit up! Bubba will immediately run upstairs seeing that you need help sitting up, and of course he went to help you! Bubba felt really bad that you started crying because of it.

Bubba would definitely give you his hugs and cuddles! He would also give you kisses everywhere on your body! Bubba would try saying praises to you, but it comes out like blubbering and all that, which it doesn't matter because you love him so much!

Thomas Hewitt:

Thomas hates seeing you be emotional! Sometimes you start crying that you can't make the cravings you want, or drive over there just to get it! Thomas would try hugging you and give you kisses on your forehead to soothe you down! He'll also try making clothes for the baby, in different sizes just for you to be happy!

Thomas would also make you feel better by massaging your body! He would also try and get all his chores/tasks just to spend more time with you before your baby is born! You would definitely give Thomas praises, because of all the things he has done for you and the baby! Thomas would always rub and kiss your tummy, already thinking that he's going to be a great Dad!

#requested #slashers x reader #drayton sawyer x reader #nubbins sawyer x reader #chop-top sawyer x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #thomas hewitt x reader

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starbunii · 7 months ago

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Can I get Baizhu, Venti, Scara, Ei, and Tenko Chabashira with a gf who's deathly terrified of storms/thunder and lightning? Like, every t8me she sees/hears it, her breath audibly hitches but she tries to pretend it's fine? I think I'm not ok, bestie 😭

# . storms 𓂃 ♥︎

𝜗𝜚 ┈ baizhu, venti, scara, ei, tenko x reader (seperate) ! ｡

notes: dude im the exact same way, thunder is litrally so scary it makes me cry everytime lasjfsf

headcanons ノ fluffノfem! reader ノcanon universe

second person pov !! please enjoy! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

-- ♡ --

baizhu

he's immediately taking you to the kitchen, making a calming tea as you're wrapped up in a little blanket

changsheng is waiting there with you, gently licking the tears off your cheeks, slithering on your shoulders in a way that tells you everything is ok

he'll take you to the living room after, making sure everything is well-light as he gently soothes you while you drink your tea

he's brushing your hair out of your face, telling you it's ok as he squeezes you tight, ensuring that you're safe and as close as possible

venti

he doesn't really realize what's wrong at first, only waking up once he realizes you're out of bed

he finds you down in the cellar, huddled up by wine barrels in a little blanket. you're shaking and crying and his heart just can't take it

venti will sit with you, nuzzling close as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. he'll even pull out the lyre if you want him to, singing soft songs to get you to relax

the two of you will be found sound asleep long after the storm is over, snuggled up together. at long last, you're calm and restful

scara

scara gets it. he's terrified of the sound of thunder too. it reminds him of his mother; of every single thing he's gone through. he hates it; he hates how it reminds him of his past behavior, of who he once was..

the two of you are stuck in bed, clinging together, whimpering at every strike of lightning and clap of thunder. you're on the verge of tears, and so is he

he's practically gripping at your waist while you tug at his hair, the two of you ensuring that you stay together

eventually, you two finally talk things out, fighting through tears. after a long, anxious conversation about the weather, you're both able to fall back asleep

raiden ei

if it's thundering, she's probably upset about something. does that add another layer of fear? i don't know, you tell me

obviously, she's upset about something. something big. but once she sees that look on your face...the tears streaming down your face, the shaky hands, the way your lip trembles ever so slightly...oh, she just can't take it

the weather clears up almost immediately as she rushes to your side, hugging you tightly as her fingers card through your hair. she's fussing over you as though you've just been terribly injured

even when you're not scared anymore, she's still clinging to your side the rest of the night, even (attempting) to make dinner as an apology. it's not edible, but...it's the thought that counts?

tenko

when she sees you crying, she is immediately trying to pick a fight with whoever made you upset (yes, even if it is the sky)

upon realizing it's just the thunder and lightning outside, she quickly pulls you into bed, holding you close and rocking you gently

she's not very good at comforting people, and being so close to a girl (even if she is her girlfriend) makes her just oh-so nervous. but she's more than happy to be your knight in shining armor, protecting you from the scary storm outside

she'll yelp a bit at particularly loud strikes of thunder, but will immediately giggle after, both because of her own silliness and to make you feel a little better about being scared

#ghost.writes #genshin impact #genshin imagines #baizhu #baizhu x reader #venti #venti x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #raiden ei #raiden ei x reader #danganronpa x reader #drv3 #tenko chabashira #tenko chabashira x reader

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candychasse · 8 months ago

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Hiii! I asked this question on the ‘Osana’ Reddit and you said you had more, SOOOO: What are all of your headcanons for the Male Rivals?? General Headcanons pretty pretty please :3

Haiii! Good to see you on here ^w^ & ofc!

(Also ignore the fact half of them don't get fun pictures or a gif I'm posting from the app lol xD)

General Male Rivals Head cannons!

Osano Najime

He is stupidly good at playground games (like rock paper scissors, go fish, etc) to the point where nobody wanted to play with him as a kid because they knew he'd win.

Favorite Pixar movie is inside out.

He actually is really good friends with Hanako. They both spend a ridiculous amount of money on blind bags together. And whenever Osano goes to the store he keeps an eye out for ones Hanako would like.

And Hanako has made him a friendship bracelet, which Osano being the tsundere he is, promptly pretended to hate it but still wears it as an anklet to this day.

Has helped organize fund raisers for local animal shelters and veterinary emergency rooms.

I feel like he has contact lenses and wore glasses in middle school. Whenever he's doing his judgemental stare his friends if he's put his contacts in that day.

He gets really into decorating and customizing his phone, like changes his whole layout, stick, phone charms, pop socket, app overlays, wallpaper, depending on what season it is.

Reads shojo manga but pretends to hate it.

^ his favorite is fruits basket

Amao Odayaka

One time he was at his great grandma's house making sourdough bread, and he accidentally slammed it on the old wooden counter so hard that he made a hole which the dough fell through to the cabinet shelf below. So not only did he break a counter he also had to scrap the whole batch. That memory haunts him and keeps him up at night.

Impulsively buys every apron he sees. He has a whole section of his closet purely dedicated to aprons.

Favorite movie is ratatouille, naturally.

He is uh, a little dense when it comes to social cues. He's nice don't get me wrong, just he isn't very good at getting sarcasm.

His favorite deserts to make are macarons and pound cake.

He has a love-hate relationship with the Gordon Ramsay show 'Hell's Kitchen' because he gets ridiculously mad at the condition the kitchens are always in. But he loves seeing the before and afters.

He runs the cooking club like a pirate ship tbh, he usually has to break up fights between the members. Except for Saki because she minds her own beeswax.

Kizano Sunobu

He has played many, many, roles in theater such as: The Wicked Stepmother From Cinderella, The Phantom of the opera, The Rat King, King George the third in Hamilton, and many more.

He can sing quite well, and took gymnastics lessons as a child so he could very much be considered a quadruple threat. (Singing, Acting, Dancing, and Acrobatics.)

Went to a preforming arts high school, but due to his family moving he had to transfer to Akademi.

His favorite animated movies are Leap! And Anastasia. Although he does have a love for old Disney aesthetics.

He has quite sensitive skin, being allergic to glycerin, so he has to be very particular about what products he buys.

Kizano plans on becoming a Broadway actor once he graduates, and because of that he is fluent in both Japanese and english, and is working on learning Spanish.

He really appreciates the club members who are stage hands, always making sure to thank them after every show.

While he is cocky, egotistical, and down right self centered at times, he does truly appreciate his club members.

He has some, interesting opinions on the other club leaders...

He likes and appreciates Amao, mainly because they both have an unyielding passion for their respective fields.

He hates and despises Asuo, because he finds him too relaxed and annoyingly positive.

He in fact does not know Oko exists.

Oko Ruto

Is very good at sewing due in part to the fact he likes to replace the button hole embroidery on his white shirts to a beige tone and the buttons to match his eyes, making it look like his buttons are eyeballs. Also because sewing comes in handy for occult/supernatural shenanigans.

Likes to visit graveyards to see if there's any intriguing tomb stones. Like funny last words, statues of the dead, intriguing ways a person died, ect.

^ he is very respectful though, only really approaching graves that are particularly old.

The occult club does more than just stalking students and summoning demons. they also practice ways to tell the future, speak to ghosts, birth chart and palm readings, and alien investigation night. (Held every other Tuesday.)

He watches BuzzFeed unsolved supernatural. Because weirdly enough true crime gives him the creeps but not ghosts and ghouls.

His favorite animated movies are, Spirited Away, Alice in wonderland, and Paranorman.

His father was a paranormal investigator, but has major Dale Gribble vibes so safe to say he runs an occult goods shop with tarot cards, oujia boards, future reading tea and eggs, and more now after being 'encouraged to retire'.

His mother is a practicing psychic who was actually brought in to help solve the murders at Akademi. She now runs an in store future reading service. Personality wise she's very much so like Jessica Rabbit, sweet charming, and a showman at heart.

Asuo Rito

This man seems like a golden retriever and he is, but sweet Lord does he not actually process his emotions. Everytime he gets upset over something he just throws himself further into training regiments.

Has like seven dogs currently and overall in his life he's had twenty.

Enjoys all sports but knows he should be focusing on just one, but he just can't pick. He enjoys track and field best, but that could just because that's what he wins the most medals for....

Took one martial arts lesson when he was ten and Budo accidentally broke his nose. Swore off martials arts ever since.

Speaking of which, childhood friends with Budo, although at first they didn't like each other because they were on opposing soccer teams.

He in fact does not know Kizano has one sided beef with him. He thinks of all the club leaders as his friends, except Kaga, he finds him creepy.

Favorite animated movie is the Incredibles.

Man is his and his teams own cheerleader, doing full on chants and cartwheels at swim meets.

^ has accidentally cartwheeled into the pool, DURING A RACE.

Mujo Kano

This man would make a better mortician than a nurse! He always gets hung up on fixing patients hair rather than filling out important paperwork.

Studying to be a pediatrician, specifically specializing in infants.

Has an unhealthy build a bear problem. He builds a bear every week and they have invaded his couch, bed, and shelves.

He is a walking disaster. Someone save him.

Osoro Shidesu

Chain smoker, no further elaboration.

He's weirdly stoic, like definitely not a party person, despite being a delinquent hooligan he reminds sorta like an old timey knight.

Rbf to the max, man came into this world with a scowl. There's not a single picture of him in his childhood where he doesn't look like a hell spawn.

Good at cooking in the same way a shady Denny's chef is good at cooking. Like cigarette in hand, cussing under his breath, while making the best funfeitti pancakes known to man.

It brings joy to his grinchy little soul to see a slug bug. Like in ironically giggles when he sees one.

Also thinks clowns are hilarious. In another life he'd be a shady circus owner.

He either has the cutest softest smile known to man, or the creepiest smirk ever.

Favorite animated movie, Up and lady and the tramp.

At his core he does believe in fairness. If a guy is harassing a waitress he won't hesitate to take him outside iykyk.

Hanako Yamada

Has gotten his arm stuck in an arcade machine after trying to just grab the plushie he wanted. The fire station was called and had to help get him out.

Wears keychains on his belt loops of his favorite characters like Keroppi, Hello Kitty and Mimi, and Happy from fairy tail.

Is actually not that social around those he doesn't know, personally I like to think he has some form of social anxiety which prevents from getting close to many people.

The reason why he dresses so cutely is that he figured that even if people stared at him, at least he'd know why rather than just being clueless.

Favorite animated movie is the toy story saga which he cries to every time he rewatches.

Really enjoys playing matchmaker with people he knows, for example in middle school he introduced his aunt to his homeroom teacher, leading for them to get married three years later.

Loves playing animal Crossing (and spending a ridiculous amount on leaf tickets in pocket camp)

Has an absurd amount of plushies, except he does know how to stack them properly to make it seem like he only has a few.

Is studying to be an architect or interior designer, he hasn't quite decided yet but he hopes to someday make homes that'll reflect his clients essence.

Has two pet hamsters, Hamtaro and Hamantha.

Megamo Saikou

Denser than cement when it comes to how much things cost. Not like business expenses because he's been trained for that, but he does think a loaf of bread costs twenty bucks.

Was a premature baby and had a heart problem causing him to be rushed into surgery nearly immediately after being born.

Would be studying to be a brain surgeon if he wasn't set in stone to inherit the company.

Actually rather appreciates the arts, such as art galleries and musical theater.

Favorite animated movie is sleeping beauty.

Likes to people watch, he finds it amusing to see how others live.

Is a horrible cook, like cannot make box Mac n cheese.

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