#inspired by all the ��oh you look so much like so and so when you're mad” posts

[tbaluver]

hiyaa! can i request scenarios with the lads boys where MC flashes them in the middle of an argument >< also love your writing so much!! it's actually giving me inspiration to go back to writing myself adjhsfhlds

Flashing Them During An Argument- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader, caleb x fem! reader tags: slightly suggestive, not so serious argument, silly a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ omg thank you so much you're so sweet my angel (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ and you def should whenever you can! i hope i get to read whatever you create or hear your ideas ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ ) also i swear someone req this too and i dont know if im imagining it or i just cant find it(╥﹏╥) anyways i hope this was alright and that you enjoy reading!! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ ty to my beta reader MWAH @ilovemitsuya any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

GOOD GOOGLY MOOGLY

You two had been going back and forth for what felt like hours, trying to decide on what to eat for dinner. Every suggestion he gave was close enough to what you were craving but either it was too far or you just didn’t like the area it was in

The stores were closing soon and you both still couldn’t agree and the frustration was creeping in. Before he gives another suggestion and tries to persuade you, you cut him off by lifting up your shirt with nothing underneath. He didn’t even hesitate, his eyes immediately dropping and feasting on the soft mounds that sit oh so perfectly. He doesn’t even remember what restaurants he suggested, he just knew how enticing they looked.

“So..let’s go to my restaurant?”

“huh..?” He blinked a few times, his gaze still locked on the now covered skin but he can still catch a glimpse of your nipples peeking through your shirt. “oh yeah..sure..” He trails off, his mind completely consumed by how soft they looked.

“okay! let’s get- Xavier!” Before you could even get up, he gently pins you back down, his needy hands snaking up into your shirt.

Zayne:

It started when you gently told him he should get ready to go to bed, it was already getting late. You loved your boyfriend deeply and you admired his passion and dedication to his work but it was clear that he was pushing himself too hard again. He promised he’d finish this last report and he’ll join you later but that was exactly what he said after the last five reports.

You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the deep bags beneath them. All the signs of his late night shifts, back to back operations, and countless hours of overtime in the past few days showed. His eyes fluttered shut just for a second, begging to stay closed, only for them to open again as he tried to push through.

You approached him again, urging him to go to bed. You told him he was being stubborn and how those reports could wait but of course, he countered back saying that you didn’t need to stay up and wait for him and that you should be getting some rest too.

The two of you went back and forth for a few minutes. But before he delivers another witty comeback, you lifted up your shirt, immediately silencing him. His eyes travel from your face down to your soft breast, losing his original train of thought and thought about how they sit so perfectly to him. They don’t linger for too long as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

Zayne tries to regain his thoughts and you fail to notice the small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he shakes his head. “Just..” He sighs, “...Please, you don’t need to wait for me,” He said softly, standing up from his chair as he approached you. “I suppose I’m overdue for a long needed rest then right?” He whispers, his hands sneaking up inside your shirt.

Rafayel:

You were late, again. The mission took longer than expected and you already knew that Rafayel would be upset when you got home and sure enough, you were right. He didn’t bother to greet you the moment you stepped inside the house. His back was turned to you, ‘focused’ on his sketching. All the responses you got a dismissive “hmph” and a side pout that you’re clearly familiar with.

You gave him a moment to cool off as you slipped into something more comfortable, peeling off your hunter’s uniform before approaching him again. This time, you made an effort to apologize in front of him but he pretended you weren’t even there. “Huh..Do I have some bubbles in my ear? I swear I heard something..” He mumbles, pretending there was absolutely no one in front of him.

This escalates into you two having a back and forth, explaining how your phone died so you couldn’t text him and his responses were rather sarcastic, saying how fishes would’ve started walking on land before you’d ever show up on time. Both of you were exhausted, frustration bubbled inside of you as you paced around, groaning. In a last attempt to get his attention, you stepped back in front of him, lifting your shirt up without a word to flash your breasts in front of him.

His eyes widened, his breath hitching as his gaze slowly trails down. “You-” He shakes his head, fighting back his mind that’s screaming FLASH ME AGAIN. He’s trying to stay strong but unfortunately this sea god is not the strongest soldier when it comes to you. “Oh yeah? Well two can play that game cutie!” He huffs, tugging at the waistband of his pants.

Sylus:

He wouldn’t tell you a thing about his new mission and it was bothering you. How far was it going to be? Who was going to be involved? Nothing. He refused to budge, his lips sealed tighter than usual. Every time you asked, he deflected with vague answers. Every time you offered to help, he would tell you it's alright and that he has everything handled.

“It’s just a short trip.”

But you knew better that a short trip doesn’t involve secrecy. It was probably bigger than that. The tension between you was growing, both of you refusing to give in. But before he could even hint at how dangerous his short trip might be, you lift your shirt up, cutting him off mid sentence. It was a last and desperate attempt for sure to regain his attention, your boobs falling out and flashing Sylus in all it's glory.

His eyes widened for a moment, an amused smirk tugged at his lips as he watched you slowly lower it back down. “Oh? Is this your new counterattack?” He teases, inching closer to you. “I think one move isn’t going to easily take me down. What do you think?” His long fingers twirl the hem of your shirt teasingly. “Amuse me with more and I might just give in.”

Caleb:

clean up on aisle caleb’s pants!

You definitely caught him off-guard from the way his eyes shamelessly looked down immediately the moment you lifted up your shirt to reveal your exposed skin. The way you cut him off his sentence as he almost chokes on his own saliva.

“um..umm..” He stammered, attempting to look at you but his eyes betray him, flickering back down to your exposed skin. He fought the urge, his gaze shifting up and down but he was unable to tear his eyes away, his cock twitching in his pants. 

What was the argument even about? He doesn’t even remember what he said to you a few minutes ago and he doesn’t even remember what color your pants were. He didn’t even notice that you’d already lowered your hands, his gaze burning through the thin fabric as his mind lingered on the bare skin he’d seen. His thoughts of kneading your breasts were cut off when you called out to him.

“Can we do it Caleb?” His eyes snap back up to meet yours, the hypnotizing sight of your exposed skin covered and his mind slowly return back to reality.

“Of course, we can do it anytime pipsqueak,” He replies, a soft smile on his lips, completely unaware of what he'd agreed to. You could’ve signed him up for a cilantro eating contest and he’d win just for you. Whatever you want and say, he’ll do it for you.

[hrtwayne]

Safe & Sound || Alexia Putellas

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Lionesses Wife!Reader

Summary: Where Alexia and her wife knew that adopting a child and a teenager would have its difficult moments.

Note: Chapter inspired by Taylor Swift's "Safe & Sound"! (English is not my first language)

Warning: Mention of Abandonment Trauma and Lots of Comfort!

Masterlist | Women's Football Masterlist

Alexia left training at the Barcelona training center, exhausted but with a smile on her face. The day had been long, but the anticipation of returning home, where her wife and their two daughters were waiting, was what truly mattered. The past few weeks had been challenging since she and Y/n decided to adopt Claire, a fourteen-year-old teenager, and Mia, an energetic little girl. The adjustment phase was delicate and required a lot of patience and dedication from both of them.

Alexia picked up the girls from school and drove home, noticing that Claire was quieter than usual in the back seat. Mia, as always, chattered nonstop about the day's events, but Claire's lack of response left Alexia worried. When they arrived home, Claire went straight to her room, while Mia was excited about helping set the table for dinner.

A few minutes later, Y/n arrived home, bringing the pizzas and the burger that Claire loved so much. Seeing Alexia in the kitchen, she smiled and approached, placing the boxes on the table.

"Hey, love. I brought some pizzas and Claire's favorite food," Y/n said, kissing her wife on the cheek before noticing the worried look on Alexia's face. "Is something wrong?"

Alexia sighed, feeling the weight of the day on her shoulders.

"I think something's up with Claire," she replied, feeling Y/n's body tense against hers. "She seemed down today. She's usually pretty talkative with Mia, but she seemed distant."

Y/n frowned, concerned. Claire was a strong and resilient girl, but she also had her insecurities, especially after going through so many changes. Y/n knew she needed to be patient and sensitive at this moment.

"I'll talk to her, okay? Don't worry," Y/n assured, leaving a kiss on Alexia's forehead. Just then, Mia came running down the stairs, full of energy.

"Sweetie, don't run down the stairs, you could hurt yourself," Y/n warned, trying not to smile at her youngest daughter's enthusiasm.

"Sorry, Mom!" Mia replied, not losing any of her excitement, before turning to Alexia with a curious look.

While Alexia and Mia started setting the table, Y/n calmly went upstairs, heading toward Claire's room. She gently knocked on the door.

"Claire? Can I come in?" Y/n asked, hearing a soft "yes" from the other side.

When she entered the room, she found Claire sitting on the bed, hugging her knees. The room was quiet, almost as if it reflected the girl's state of mind. Y/n approached and sat beside her, extending her hand.

"Do you want to talk about what happened today?" Y/n asked, keeping her voice soft.

Claire hesitated, her eyes avoiding Y/n's. After a few moments of silence, she finally gave in, resting her head on Y/n's lap. The athlete began stroking her hair, waiting for her daughter to feel comfortable enough to open up.

"It's just that..." Claire began, her voice trembling. "I never imagined I'd be getting all this attention, you know? I've been through so many families... I've always been afraid that something would happen to me or Mia, that we'd be separated. Even though you're so good to us, sometimes I feel like I won't last long here. That at some point, you'll change your mind about me.

"Y/n's heart ached as she heard those words. She knew Claire's past experiences still haunted her, but she was determined to make sure that would change.

"Oh, my love," Y/n began, her voice full of affection. "I know you've been through a lot, and I understand your fear. But you need to believe me when I say that nothing will separate you and Mia from us. You're our daughters now, and nothing, absolutely nothing, will change that."

Claire sniffled quietly, still fighting back tears. Y/n continued, her voice firm but gentle.

"There's no way we'd ever send you back, Claire. You're ours, and we're yours. Never, at any point, have we thought of anything other than taking care of and loving you both. We'll always be here for you."

Claire finally looked at Y/n, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She sat up and hugged her mother tightly, nestling into her arms. Y/n held her in a protective embrace, feeling the tension slowly dissipate from her daughter's body.

After a few minutes, Claire finally relaxed, a small smile beginning to form on her face. Y/n wiped the tears from Claire's cheeks and smiled back.

"Now, how about you wash your face and come down for dinner? I brought your favorite burger," Y/n suggested, kissing Claire's forehead.

"Thank you, Mom," Claire said with a shy smile.

Y/n left Claire's room with a lighter heart. When she entered the kitchen, she found Alexia and Mia finishing setting the table. Alexia looked at Y/n, who nodded, indicating that things were better.

"Ready for dinner?" Y/n asked, as Mia hurried to sit at the table.

Claire came downstairs shortly after, still a little shy but visibly more at ease. She joined the family at the table, and the atmosphere in the house began to fill with warmth and comfort as dinner progressed. Laughter and light conversation filled the space, dispelling any remaining tension.

After dinner, Y/n and Alexia put the girls to bed. Mia was the first to fall asleep, curled up in her blanket, while Claire, now calmer, also drifted off with a grateful smile on her lips.

When the two finally retreated to their own room, Alexia snuggled into Y/n's arms, feeling the peace that only that moment of intimacy could provide. Y/n stroked Alexia's hair and sighed softly.

"We're doing the right thing, aren't we?" Alexia asked quietly, still with a hint of uncertainty.

"Yes, we are," Y/n replied firmly, holding Alexia closer. "We'll overcome any challenge, together. They're our daughters, love. Forever."

Alexia smiled against Y/n's chest, closing her eyes as she felt the love that connected them as a family.

[illusionremember]

I'll tell you what. I've spent the past several days going through this tag. All 224 pages of works with this tag. I was angry. I wanted to block every goddamn person that used it. I don't wanna see their shit whether it was AI or not, and I don't want them seeing mine either.

But I learned some things while I was clicking through this, clicking on names, and blocking.

Overall, the content posted under this tag are predictably bland, unimaginative, and uninteresting. I think we all could have figured this one out without looking.

The users that seem to post these almost all strike me as incredibly young. Not all of them, of course, but many admit in so many words that they are high schoolers, often just messing around, as high schoolers often do.

So so SO many of these are marked in their summaries as the poster just mucking about in AI because they were bored, avoiding homework, avoiding sleep. They thought whatever it churned out was funny, or in some cases horrifyingly bad, and posted it to share it. They know it's bad. It is actually very rare for some of them to be earnestly trying to claim it as writing. There's a lot of "oh god what did I/chatgpt/insert AI write?" and "this is so weird and funny" type of tags.

on the other hand, there are a small handful of them (under ten pieces overall, I think) that are clearly fetish content, with extreme or taboo kink. I wonder if the use of AI helps them to separate themselves from the content they decided they wanted to read. Like a way of saying "well I didn't write this, it's the AI". I wonder if it's about shame. Of those kind of pieces, most of those posters only put up a single piece and disappeared.

A loooot of them are marked as "original fiction." As for those that are listed under fandoms, imo the posters have absolute dogshit tastes - in terms of tropes, ships, and plots they chose to prompt AI for.

Some of these aren't even fics, but use AI-generated images to illustrate, or say they were "inspired by" an AI chat rather than made with it. I'm not saying that's better, but it does change the way I'm looking at that giant number at the top.

A large amount of these are listed under orphan_account. Meaning that whoever wrote it decided, for whatever reason, to disassociate themselves from it. Maybe they got pushback. Maybe they thought better of it. If this many people orphaned their works, I wanna know how many of them deleted them in full

Tbh, coming to these realizations made me feel better about this whole thing. I'm sure there are other fics out there that aren't tagged for it, but this gives a good idea of the kind of content that comes out of AI. And I very deliberately am using the terms "content" and "poster" instead of work, writing, writer, or artist. Because this isn't creative work. It's content churning. It's a crude parlor trick. And even the people that posted these seem to know it.

Those of you that have played with AI. I'm talking to you now. The kind of stuff you're getting out of AI now? I promise you - it is so much better to make your own, and to look for actual writers for something to read.

You can find and write funny crackfic. People have done it for decades. You can come up with weird nonsense and bizarre ooc chaos all on your own. It's so much more satisfying.

If you are looking for angst or romance or horror or whatever to read, there's literally hundreds of thousands of fanfics written by real people that will tell far better stories. The thing is, when a person is telling a story, there's usually a core goal or message they're trying to give. Writing is about communicating something. It's about sharing the things that make your heart sing. It's about putting the things in your head and heart onto paper or a screen so that other people can see those parts too. AI isn't capable of that.

If you have ideas but you don't want to write it yourself, you just want to read it, instead or prompting an AI, consider posting your prompt in a community, here on tumblr or somewhere else. Back on LJ, there were entire promptfill communities. People would post prompts and ideas they had, and others would respond and write them. It was my favorite part of those fandom communities. I miss them terribly. I miss the fics and art and the overflow of creativity. Most of all I miss the connection with others.

And for those of you that do want to write, to communicate ideas of your own, but think that you aren't good enough to write it yourself — I would rather read your own words than anything AI could churn out. Even if you're terrible. Even if you can't string the words together the way you want yet. Bad writing is how you learn to put words to your ideas, your feelings, the things that scare you, the things that make you laugh or cry. The computer will never, ever be able to translate those things onto a page in any way that's authentic, because it's stealing things from other people and scrambling them together. It doesn't create anything. It steals, and then mixes and matches scraps of other people's work to approximate what you asked for, and it's bad at it. It lacks intent and it lacks soul.

The words that you would choose yourself are lost every time you let AI do the work for you. And that's really sad to me. Don't willfully give up your voice. Its the most precious thing you have in this world.

Write it shitty, write it scared, write it without a clue but don't you be so spineless and have an AI write fanfic for you.

[lambilegs]

Congrats on the 1k!! ⭐️⭐️⭐️

My first word choice is Whelve from list #2

Sevika x Reader, open to sfw or nsfw

So I LOVED your Sevika!Roommate headcannons, and if your up to it I was hoping for maybe an alternate ending?

Cause when I was reading I started imagining oh shit what if reader kinda runs into Ran first a little as fwb and Sevila has to deal with the jealousy she starts to feel?? IF you're even interested enough in writing about Ran even a little.

If not the words Incandescence and Sweven caught my eye too lol your call ofc

1K DRABBLES: WHELVE, SWEVEN & INCANDESCENCE

whelve: to bury something deep, to hide  sweven: a dream incandescence: light produced by high temperatures note to anon: AHHH thank you so much love!! and I'm so happy you enjoyed roommate!sevi hehe, it was definitely fun to write. and I'm definitely into writing for ran, I think they're sooo fine 🤭 your idea had me inspired, and I decided to use all three of your words for it hehe. I hope you enjoy it <33 contains: angst with no comfort (pls I'm so sorry), alcohol, sevika pretty much being anguished over you being with someone else, based on roommate!au

sevika watches you from the bar, her teeth clashing together, almost as though she's chewing on something tough, rubber-woven, hard to truly break through. she knows she must look like a slightly deranged, wholly possessive girlfriend right now, but that's exactly how she feels. her mind is whirring with thoughts, and mixed with the hazy tinge of alcohol, she feels like she's clouded with a multitude of emotions that bear no mercy for her, brutally stacking upon one another until she's rubbing her eyes with the onslaught of pain surging through her mind.

because you're there. dancing with fucking ran, of all people. ran, who sevika had always been chill with, and upon whom she had bestowed the privilege of letting into her apartment. ran, who sevika has worked with for nearly a year now. ran, whose face she wants to punch into until she chips at least one tooth. she can feel it running through her veins -- hot, bleeding rage that seizes around every inch of her innards, tightening and squeezing until it's all she knows. she wants so badly to march up to you and rip you away from them, shake you and ask you what the fuck you're doing. because you're hers -- and she's trying. she no longer brings girls over, she tries to be nicer, she waits until you wake up so you two can do the morning crossword together.

but, that doesn't really mean shit, right? not when the fire whipping from the walls of this all-too-expensive club are setting your face aflame, making you glow in all shades of orange and gold. not when you look like a sunbeam brought to life, every sway of your hips and batting of your lashes striking sevika like a personal bolt send her way.

she wants, so badly, for it all to be one horrible fucking dream. sometimes, she stirs awake in the middle of the night, and hears your whimpers as ran takes care of you, and she squeezes her eyes shut, urging herself back to sleep. if she wakes in the morning, and there are no traces of ran in the apartment, she pitifully convinces herself that maybe the noises she heard last night weren't real. but, then again, sevika has never been one for tall tales. because no matter what she offers herself as a way out of this living hell, the underbelly always contains the same reminder: you're not hers. but, maybe you could've been.

it's a reminder that stabs into her gut without relent when she goes to work and sees a hickey on ran's neck. it's one that twists and sends her gut curling into mind-consuming pain when she finds you in the kitchen, wearing ran's t-shirt as you make dinner. it's one that bleeds her out until she's piss drunk and tumbling into her bed, drool leaking from her mouth and eyes stone-heavy, after she sees you kiss them on the dance floor.

that should be her. it could've fucking been her. if she had stopped playing around, if she had put an end to the games earlier, it could've been her arms wrapped around you in the club. it could've been her t-shirts you fidget with the stitches and loose strands of as you half-heartedly watch the television when eating your food.

but, instead, she chose to play around. she chose to keep bringing girls who she pictured to be you when fucking, and keep making comments to poke fun at how much you like her, how much you want her. because that space, the in-between line hovering between roommates who flirt and genuine romance -- that's a comfortable space for her. it's safe, it's far from the simultaneous confines and terrifying exposure that exists tucked away into the pockets of a vulnerable, deeper bond. it's one where she doesn't have to worry about obligations, or how the fuck she'll ever manage to confide in you about all the past memories that still lingers in her chest, burrowing in a hollow she's unconvinced she'll ever be fully rid of.

but, that can't be harder than this. this hell she's been occupying everyday, the flames licking at her and searing through her skin everytime she's faced with the fact that you're no longer hers -- not even by a half, which is what she was satisfied with before. but, how fucking stupid was that? it's not like back then, part of her didn't sting with the fact that you weren't hers in entirety, as something that is whole and not only distributed through brief touches and momentary banter.

but, now you spend so much time with ran that she doesn't even have a quarter of you, not even a piece. and even if you and ran are just fuck buddies, she can see how you light up when they drop by. how the two of you avoid her narrowed gaze as you usher them to your bedroom.

she can see how she's on the outs now. just as you once were.

and that solidifies her resolve, tying it with a red ribbon that's stapled in, unyielding to any force of affection or envy.

she's played with you enough. she'll let you have this.

even if it means she buries herself whole, not an inch of you left with her anymore.

[yumeaoka-chan]

Butterflies

Long overdue fluff @the-kr8tor @pleaktale and @hyperfix-wip 💕 Def inspired by that ask from Bleaky to Katy way back🤭

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader x Hobie Brown/ Ekko x Reader x Spider-Punk! Hobie Brown

Word Count: 1.1k

Tags: fluff, flirting, kisses, no physical description of reader, title from Butterflies by Michael Jackson (phenomenal song btw😩💕), modern au (they're all in Hobie's universe, really)

“So, again, what's the occasion?” You ask as you lean against the small table that sits near the window of your shared flat, eyes roaming over the two men that shuffle around the tiny kitchen. Soft music plays on the speaker on the table and a delicious aroma wafts through the air. A smile flits across your face when hazel brown eyes meet your own.

“We can't cook for our girl just ‘cause we feel like it”, Ekko questions as he blows a stray white twist that had managed to slip from his ponytail out of his eyes, hands busy cutting up some garlic. Hobie hums beside him in agreement, tossing a bit of salt and cayenne pepper into the pan on the stove. The question makes you sigh and shake your head. Your two loves had been adamant on making you a nice home cooked meal once you came home today, having spent most of your day helping out a friend.

When you had walked through the doors of your shared flat, both men had grabbed your hands and sat you down at the table as they continued cooking dinner, much to your surprise. And when you tried to protest and help them with the food, they sat you back down with little kisses that had your heart fluttering in your chest, turning you to mush and effectively silencing your complaints. At least, for a little while.

“Just relax, love. We wanna spoil you.” Hobie pipes up as he looks over his shoulder to gaze at you with a smile on his pierced lips, russet brown eyes filled with warmth and almost shining a pretty honey color. The sight alone makes your stomach do little flips. “And by we, I meant me. ‘Ko just put himself in the equation, for some reason. ‘M thinkin’ he just wants to steal my idea…” Those words earn him a smack against the head with a dish towel, the punk chuckling at Ekko's scrunched up face of faux indignation before pecking his lips. That makes his expression falter, eyes softening as he shakes his head. Ekko comes up to you then, spoon holding a steaming sauce in hand.

“Taste”, he mumbles while lifting the utensil up to your lips, eyes watching you intensely as you obey. A hum of satisfaction leaves you as the taste floods your tongue, savory and buttery with a hint of spice.

“Oh, wow. That's really good…!” Lips quirking up into a small smile at your words, he places the spoon into the sink and goes to take Hobie's spot at the stove, the punk sliding over to wash the dishes that had accumulated. As much as you want to let them continue on unbothered, especially since they told you to relax and let them handle it, you couldn't help the strong urge in your gut that kept nagging at you to help. Even if all you did was just pass them seasonings. Fiddling with the silver ring on your finger that matches the ones they wear, you lift yourself away from the table and walk towards the kitchen counter in three quick strides. Just as you go to wash your hands to start helping, firm hands gently bracelet your wrists and another set of hands settle on your waist. A gasp escapes you as you're promptly lifted up and sat down on the counter top, Ekko smoothly setting the cooking materials and ingredients onto the table.

“Lovie”, Hobie's breathy voice murmurs against your ear as he slips himself into the space between your legs that dangle off of the counter. “Thought we said relax, hm…?” Long lashes grazing his cheeks, he looks down at you with a quirked eyebrow and fingers brushing softly underneath your chin, tilting your head up just a bit. Even when you sat on the counter, he was ridiculously tall, his other hand resting on the counter and effectively caging you. The way he's looking at you has your brain fumbling to catch up and you blink up at him a few times, making him chuckle.

“B-But, I want to help”, You stammer once your brain has finally regained its nonexistent footing, lashes fluttering at his close proximity. You can feel his cool breath fanning your heated cheeks.

“We know you do, sweetheart. Just sit here, yeah?” Hobie's hand underneath your chin slides up to cradle your face, thumb gently tracing the curve of your bottom lip before leaning in close, lips pressing softly against yours and making you swoon. He kisses you sweetly, little pecks that make your breath hitch and send your heart soaring. Once, twice, three times, before pecking your cheek and backing away all together. There are practical hearts swirling in his honeyed gaze as he looks at you with a dopey, lopsided grin on his face. The punk turns back towards the sizzling food just as Ekko taps your cheek, making your dazed attention focus on him.

There's a knowing smirk on his lips and a shine to his pretty hazel brown eyes as white twists slip and curtain his intense gaze. It's all you can do to not turn into a puddle right then and there as he takes the punk's previous spot between your thighs, arms on either side of you caging you in as he leans in close.

“My turn, bug”, he mumbles before leaning in to kiss along your jaw, sweet, tender kisses that tickle your skin as he trails his lips towards your own. A muffled hum leaves him once he captures them, gentle in the way his kiss renders you speechless. Your hands drift up to gently grip onto the front of the baggy crop top he's wearing that used to be one of Hobie's old band tees, leaning forward and pulling him closer for more. Your brain has ceased to work properly at this moment, with Ekko consuming all the thoughts you had left that weren't taken by Hobie. A soft chuckle escapes him as he pecks your lips once more, then places one on your cheek, nose, and forehead, before leaning back a bit. Gaze swimming with warmth and sparkling affection, hearts swirling in his eyes. “Just what I needed, trouble. Thank you. Just sit right here for us.”

Ekko's words don't fully register until he slowly backs away, going back to help Hobie with the rest of the food. Blinking away the fog caused by your two loves, you raise an eyebrow at them in question, legs still dangling on the counter.

“Wait. How am I supposed to help you guys by sitting here?” Hobie chuckles at your confusion as Ekko tilts his head, a cheeky shine to his eyes.

“Just sit there lookin’ pretty for us, mama. That's all we need.” If you weren't a puddle of goo before, you definitely were now.

[riareadsvt]

Brushstrokes and Heartaches - XMH

Summary: The consequences of falling for your best friend include late-night stares that last too long, hands brushing against each other like they mean something, and a war waged with paint that neither of you are ready to surrender. But pretending it’s just playful banter only works for so long—especially when the colors between you start to blur into something neither of you can erase.

⇢ pairing: xu minghao x gn!reader ⇢ contains: fluff, angst, friends to lovers au, artist au, idiots in denial, tension so thick you could paint with it, playful banter, longing stares, hand touches that mean too much, paint wars, mutual pining, lingering gazes that last a little too long. ⇢ word count: 1018

(his hands are so beautiful urg)

If art is love, then Xu Minghao has been in love a thousand times over.

You think this as you watch him from across the room, sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor, surrounded by an explosion of colors. Paint bottles, half-empty tubes, scattered brushes, and a canvas resting beneath his fingertips—it’s all so beautifully chaotic, much like him.

Minghao is lost in his world, lips pursed in concentration, eyes flickering between his canvas and the strokes of paint on his fingers. A sweater too soft for this universe clings to his frame, the warm tones of its stripes making him look impossibly cozy despite the mess he’s making. There’s a smudge of blue on his cheek, a hint of yellow in his hair, and he doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“You’ve been staring for a suspiciously long time.” His voice is light, teasing, but there’s an edge to it, something unreadable beneath the amusement. He dips his brush into a pool of green, dragging it across the canvas in slow, deliberate movements.

You blink, caught. “I was just—”

“—A photo will last longer,” Minghao interrupts, tilting his head ever so slightly. His tone is still playful, but there’s a flicker of something else in his gaze. Something knowing. Something dangerous.

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Oh, my bad. Let me grab my camera real quick—oh wait, I forgot, I left it in my imaginary museum where I keep all my poor life choices.”

Minghao smirks, amused. “Must be a pretty packed exhibit.”

“Yeah, and guess what? You’re in it.”

He hums, tilting his head as if considering. “So I’m a masterpiece, then?”

You roll your eyes. “More like an abstract piece that makes people uncomfortable but they pretend to understand.”

He laughs at that, shaking his head. “Careful, you might just inspire my next work.”

You huff, trying to ignore the way his voice lingers in your chest. “Oh yeah? What would you call it?”

His lips curve into something unreadable. “Maybe ‘Curious Eyes’... or ‘Caught in the Act’?”

You scoff, nudging his knee with yours. “Sounds pretentious.”

Minghao grins, finally breaking the moment’s tension. “It’s called art.” He leans back, stretching his arms over his head. The movement causes his sweater to ride up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin, and for a moment, you swear time slows just a little.

You tilt your head, a teasing smile curling your lips. "Funny. I don’t see you offering any guidance, oh great artist. Should I just wing it and hope for the best?"

Minghao exhales a laugh, setting his brush down as he leans forward slightly. "Come here, then. Help me if you're so eager to learn." His voice dips lower, smooth and inviting, but there’s something else there—something unspoken that lingers in the air between you.

You hesitate for half a second, because you know. You know this is more than just paint and brushes, more than just playful banter. But you move closer anyway, pretending the warmth pooling in your chest is just part of the game.

It’s a challenge. And you’re terrible at backing down from challenges.

You lower yourself to the floor beside him, scanning the battlefield of paints and brushes. “Fine. But if I end up looking like an abstract painting myself, I’m blaming you.”

Minghao hums noncommittally. “Masterpieces require sacrifice.”

You reach for a brush, but before you can even dip it into the paint, he stops you—by smearing a streak of pink across the back of your hand.

Your mouth drops open in betrayal. “You did not just—”

He grins, all sharp mischief and soft warmth. “What? You said you were going to help.”

“You menace.” Without thinking, you retaliate, swiping a line of blue along his forearm. It’s war now.

What follows can only be described as a descent into chaos. Minghao dodges, laughing as you try to paint a stripe on his sweater, only for him to flick a splatter of yellow onto your cheek in revenge. You gasp dramatically, reaching for the nearest weapon—a brush loaded with green—but before you can strike, he catches your wrist with paint-stained fingers.

For a second, neither of you move.

His hold is gentle, barely there, but the warmth of his skin seeps into yours like ink bleeding into paper. His eyes flicker to yours, something unreadable passing through them, something soft and endless.

“If you get any closer, you’ll ruin your sweater,” you whisper, though you don’t know why. Your voice feels small in the space between you.

His gaze drops to your lips for the briefest moment before he smirks. “I think that ship has already sailed.”

You glance down at yourself—paint everywhere, your hands a masterpiece of unintended colors—and laugh. “I think we might be disasters.”

“Maybe.” He releases your wrist, only to swipe a streak of red along your forearm, his touch lingering just a second too long. “But we’re beautiful disasters.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart betrays you, hammering in your chest.

Minghao studies you for a moment, his expression shifting into something almost wistful. “You ever think about how some things aren’t meant to last, but they’re still beautiful while they exist?”

The words press against something inside you, something fragile. “Like what?”

“Like sunsets,” he says, voice quieter now. “Or a song you can’t get out of your head. Or…” He hesitates, gaze locking with yours. “Or moments like this.”

Something aches deep within you, a longing you don’t know how to name. Because you know. You know exactly what he means. Some things burn too bright to last, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to hold onto them anyway.

You exhale softly, pressing your paint-stained fingers against the back of his hand once more, as if trying to capture this feeling, as if trying to hold onto something that was never meant to be yours.

Minghao doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans in a little closer, watching as the colors mix between your fingers, as if this moment itself is something worth immortalizing.

And maybe, just maybe, it is.

a/n - This was so much fun (and a little painful) to write, hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it! Let me know what you think—feedback is always appreciated! 🎨💕

[gotham-daydreams]

Alright! So a couple of updates to this!

"Ghost" is now "Specter", and has been essentially reworked since I felt like the original concept was boring and too much line the Not [ ] Series and such. So! Here is how it's looking thus far:

Specter [Forgotten! Obsessed! Reader] {Bite-Sized ~ Medium} [Platonic]

You thrived off of their quiet attention, and admired them like no other. They were the epitome of perfection, and what all others should strive to be - what you strived to be, as you longed to be apart of something you knew someone as dirty as yourself could never dare taint. Yet, reality was quite harsh. So up in the attic you made your bed, and crafted a fantasy for yourself instead. The family wasn't so far away like this, and you didn't have to ruin their image - but greed is a funny thing when one begins to feed it.

To you, they might as well have been gods amongst men - and oh how you tried to fix every flaw in your body to try and be seen by eyes that never saw you. Though even as that day comes, and you see one of your sisters up close on pure accident - it's enough to spark something that wasn't there before, and your life finally starts anew.

Nightly struggles, shifts in focus, claws and slashes of desperation, and a certain kind of warmth you never felt before, all begin to happen and unravel as something that turned into a fun little game is transformed into a disturbing investigation - and your very life is revealed to those who had forgotten it. With you being forced into a life you're not sure you want to live anymore.

Something to note as well is that I've got a few more ideas for Husband/Spouse Reader, and even if I won't be mentioning any of them right now (as I'm not completely sure when I'll get to them), when I have drafts and such I might! Though we've also got enough fics on the list for right now, so keeping the length as it is until some of the list gets finished is the best call for now, I believe.

Since I'm planning on finishing the Not [ ] Series soon, I do also have another platonic story in mind that isn't on the list - but again! If I get to it or not heavily depends, hence why it isn't on the list as I may end up not even focusing on it, though it is loosely inspired from a small fic, and very much heavily inspired by a film.

Regardless, that's all for now!

Planned Fics [For Batfam]

Will be listing both Romantic and Platonic fics that I not only have planned, but will be trying to prioritize! This is not the full list of what I have in mind, but kind of what I'd like to show first at the moment! Oneshots and smaller ideas are not included, and everything here is going to be multiple parts long.

'Bite-sized' are smaller fics like the Not [ ] Series, 'Long' fics are.... well, long, and I consider them to be more on par with full-length fics people post on other sites and such. With 'Medium' being somewhere in between 'bite-sized' and long fics. They don't really determine the actual set length of a fic, but moreso how long I think they'll be in the long run- so its more of a general idea then anything else!

'Mixed' fics are also a, well, mix of both platonic and romantic yanderes - or have yanderes that I feel cannot be defined as solely romantic or platonic. Though for simplicity I have placed them under romantic or platonic, and will specify which ones I consider a 'mixed fic'. Romantic and Platonic fics are also fics that predominantly has romantic or platonic yanderes - which basically means that one or two of they may be different.

I will also keep the descriptions of each fic short as... well, if I don't, I think this post will be waaayy longer than it has to be.

With that out of the way, let's get onto the lists!

Platonic:

Flick of the Wrist (temp title) [Villian! Artist! Reader] {Medium (?)}

Destroying the city your father seemed to love so much turns much more personal when you realize that your entire family is composed of costume wearing freaks. At least your trying to spice things up, geez. Though, for a bunch of detectives.. they can be fucking idiots for not realizing who you are. Guess being ignored really did give you a leg up in that department, so, really, you can't be too mad about that.

One Chance (temp title) [Kidnapped! Reader] {Long}

They thought you didn't know. That you'd be too young to remember what they did that night, that you didn't know how they treated your parents. Though, over the years, you didn't really help clear that idea... if anything, you fed into it. You play their little game, just so that they all could fall into the very palm of your hands. No matter what they try to do, no matter how much power they think they have... they will never know that you're still waiting. Waiting and making sure that when the time comes, you'll finally seize your opportunity- but you have to do it right the first time. You know that there won't be a second, especially at this point. One chance is all you're getting, and you'll be damned if you don't make sure it counts.

Ghost [Heavily Neglected! Reader] {Bite-sized}

You were the ghost in Wayne Manor. That's what everyone called you. That's what even the media saw you as, and at this point, it was all by design. They gave you a role to play, and you've done everything you could over the years to see it through. But, what happens when you finally want to leave, and go haunt some other place? What happens when your family finally decides to do a little 'Ghost Hunting' after all the rumors?

Prodigy [Prodigy! Reader] {Bite-sized (?)}

Born from an affair, and after your mother's unfortunate passing, you are given to Bruce Wayne - possibly the richest man alive and with a booming buisness. Yet, having been born and raised in this industry, you were practically made to take over the buisness. You've proven time and time again that you're more than capable of it, along with keeping your family's secret. Buisness and work is all you know. It's how you've lived, and you saw no reason to explore or look into things outside of it - along with the money it brought. So why is you family so insistent about 'spending more time' with you? Don't you give them enough free time already?

Bond [Reader who is obsessively looked after] {Bite-sized - Medium}

You keep them together. You keep them sane. You are their family. They need you more then you will ever know, and nothing will ever take you away from them.

Even a Worm Will Turn [Spider-Man! Venom! Reader] {Long} [Also known as 'Waiting Reader'] [Sort of mixed?]

You were so young when everything went down. You didn't know any better, not with how you grew up before your adoption - and not with what followed after. It wasn't your fault, or was it? You didn't think so, you were still in highschool for crying out loud. You were still just a kid... but, it's no wonder you grew up hating them. It's no wonder that, when given an out - when actually getting a taste of what they had robbed you of, did you finally see past the barriers that your parents had put up and that they reinforced unknowingly. Yet, when you finally seemed tired of waiting, they came crawling right back. Though, this time, unlike before- you weren't alone.

Husband! Reader [Technically I have two ideas for this concept so.... no title or length- how I go about it is going to be a little weird so just trust the process on this one, folks!] (Married to Bruce... obviously..)

It was peaceful for a while, or- well, as peaceful as it could get in Gotham. With you just caring for your insane family, and your doting yet equally insane husband. Though, just being apart of this family... maybe you should've expected things to go sideways.

(The more Batfam focused idea is focused on the reader basically being flung into a different dimension that is essentially the reversed Batfam AU (so Damian is the oldest, Dick is the youngest and such). The other idea is more JL focused so I won't go into it here.)

Darkest Night, Brightest Day (temp title) [Batman! Reader] {Medium - Long (?)}

It's a wonder how you've come this far. From being the newest addition into the family, to now the only one who's left to dawn the mantle. The world needs Batman, after all, and though many have argued that you've likeness is too much like Bruce's, you just see that as a sign that your efforts are paying off. After all, you have sacrificed your mind, body, and soul to keep up with the original... especially with all that's happened. Especially when everyone else is dead. Yet, it seems life really does love tormenting you, and one day, people that look like your deceased family come stumbling into your world, and would you look at that?

Their Bat is alive, and more human then you've ever been in a long, long time... maybe it's about time you ask how the hell he does this job without having to do half of whay you've done just to keep up. Maybe then, you'll feel like you aren't disrespecting those that came before you.

Romantic:

Letters [Fan! Reader] {Medium - Long (?)}

Ever since you were young, you've always been a fan of the unusual family that was Batman and every bird and bat he seemed to take under his wing. So to show your appreciation, you wrote letters to each and every one of them... that you ended up being too shy to send. As you grew up, your appreciation and admiration seemed to grow with you - but it also did extend to the Wayne family, who, in your opinion, really did seem to be boing just as much good as the Bats when it came to Gotham. You loved the Bats so much you even trained and became a vigilante yourself... but, now that you work beside them.. you can't help but keep your letters closer to yourself. With them becoming more personal as you lost hope in ever being able to send a single one.

Though... maybe now you have an opportunity? Especially when they've taken notice of you too, and don't seem to realize that their admiration is matched.

Clover [Reader taken from a diff universe] {Medium - Long(?)} [Sort of mixed. Platonic -> Romantic for some.]

They took you away from a life you didn't know you missed, and tried to play it off as if the life you lived before was all a dream... as if it never happened. You believed them at first, and yet, it seemed that just as you were becoming the very thing they were trying to shape you into, they began to change gears. No longer did some of them want you to pose as a family member that had long since passed - but rather, you were supposed to be something more.

Brotherhood and Co. (temp title?) [Dilf! Reader] {Medium(?)} [Mixed]

You trusted him. You trusted him with your life- he was like your god damn brother- and yet, he stabbed you in the back. Betrayed you like no other, and they both knew for years. Years of your life wasted away loving that woman, just like that.

So it's no surprise that you took the kids and left. Left and tried to do what you could to provide them with the life you knew they deserved, and provide the stability you knew they needed. Yet, it seems that your dear 'friend' isn't quite done with you yet, and nor is his godforsaken family. You really should've known not to trust them from the start, but hell, it was your big heart that got you in this mess, isn't it?

Intruder [Isekai! Reader] {Medium(?)} [Mixed.] [Also has a JL ver. though, again, just focusing on Batfam/Gotham for this post.]

Who knew that a crazed fan like you would end up in this situation? What are the odds that you of all people wind up being an unexpected artifact of some insane villian who could open portals across dimensions, space, and time? Granted, you aren't the only one- but you managed to slip under the radar. With you being able to use your knowledge of the universe you've plopped into to survive, and make sure to not catch any unwanted or unwarranted attention. It'd be horrifying and embarrassing as hell to meet Batman, only for him to be able to easily see that you're a complete fucking loser..

Yet, even when they do find you, you manage to catch their attention too well. And now... well, let's just say that while it was their job to bring everyone home, it wouldn't hurt to let you stay, right? After all, you seem to be adjusting so well... it'd be a shame to let you go now, wouldn't it?

Never-Ever After [Friend! Reader] {Medium - Long (?)}

Being a friend if the Wayne's wasn't all too bad, especially when you're basically friends with everyone. So when they ask for your help, and also for tickets to concerts of a particular idol duo you're also friends with- you don't think anything of it. It slips your mind when they ask for you to introduce them to your idol friends, but it becomes a little odd when they begin to ask for more... personal information on them, and sure, you answer their harmless questions - but not much else. Even if you do know the answers, that's weird and an invasion of their privacy! Not to mention your friends' trust in you!

Then the threats start coming... and suddenly the Wayne kids aren't so friendly with you anymore... and you can't help but notice how obsessed they seem with your idol friends... and yet, when you try to cut them off and avoid them, its like you can't. Like they won't allow you to anymore.

It's only when your life starts taking a horrible turn for the worst do you even consider the idea that maybe... just maybe.. did their obsession turn to you instead?

Gotham's Finest (temp title) [Insane! Villian! Reader] {Bite-sized - Medium (?)}

With the villians, rouges, and thugs of Gotham as your main infulence in life, it's no wonder that you became a villian yourself - and not only that, but aspired to be just as good as the people who really brought terror to the streets of Gotham. You were one of the best, 'trained' yourself to be as such. So is it any real surprise that you catch the attention of the infamous Bat and his family once you finally take your crime to the next level, and begin to become active at night?

Maybe not, but the real kicker is how much they seem to love how you drive them absolutely insane.

Birds of a Feather (temp title) [Winged! (Metahuman?) Reader] {Bite-sized - Medium (?)} [Mixed.] 《In Progress》

You hate them. You'd do anything to get rid of them. And you're friends- they promised that they'd help you find a way to get rid of them forver. They did- they... they said they would, and you trust them, of course you do! You'd do anything, anything to rid yourself of these cursed wings. But, you just couldn't wait. It was taking too long. So... you took matters into your own hands just a little, and had a solution! A cure! So why... why are your friends and their family looking at you like that?

These lists may or may not be updated- especially as they get posted and people ask questions. Again, these are moreso the stories I'll be trying to focus on after the Not [ ] Series. Though, to be fair, some things may be a bit different after that series in general, but no need to think about that just yet! Author here is just trying to think of how to go about certain things and organize some stuff, especially since I'll dabble a bit into JL and Superfam stuff down the line- but that's not important right now!

If your curious about anything, don't be afraid to send in an ask! Or even if you want to hear more about an idea, and so on and so forth.

Also, as I'm sure you can tell... naming things isn't exactly my strong suit 😅 I'm more of a plot guy, y'know? Love me a good, dark, horror-esc story!

[atlaculture]

Hi! Wanted to start out by saying that I am a huge fan of yours and I love all your posts and find them all super interesting! I’ve never sent an ask before but I just saw your post on muay Thai armbands and just had to say something.

I practice Muay Thai myself and I thought your post was super cool! I actually thought the exact same thing before (after seeing some of your posts connecting atla things to the real world) and bet it was inspired by that. There is this poster in my gym that I noticed one day looked a lot like Zuko at the Agni Kai! It had the same arm bands, no shirt, (some of it was also the angle and the frame of the fighter) and I noticed that the mongkol (headband that fighters wear before the fight) that the fighter was wearing in the poster looked a lot like Zuko’s ponytail.

I’ve never fought so I don’t know all the details but I do know that the mongkol is given by the trainer to the fighter once they are deemed worthy to fight, and is worn by the fighter as a sign of respect and loyalty to the trainer. Anyway I just thought it was would be really interesting if zukos hair was designed to look like a mongkol, and would add even deeper meaning to the hair cutting scene. (I know that there is already a lot of deeper meaning to that scene and that you know wayyy more about all that stuff than I do) anyway though it might also show him renouncing his teachings, especially in firebending, also interesting that the next time we see him learn anything new with fire bending, it is inspired by water bending, showing a shift in trainer and style. (I know iroh was teaching him on the boat but we see iroh and zuko not always getting along with his teachings so I assumed Zuko learned a lot from palace instructors, his father and Azula’s fighting style)

Anyway sorry for rambling so much at you, sorry if you hate all this or already know this, just something I noticed and thought you might like to hear about, also I got excited cause I’m a fan of yours and Muay Thai is in my bubble, and also that you posted about arm bands because I just earned my own by passing some testing at my gym and I was super excited about it. Anyway! Sorry this is so long, never sent an ask before, just wanted to share some things I know and say I’m a big fan of yours, have a nice day!

Congrats on getting your armbands! I have a lot of respect for Muay Thai fighters. If you're interested in influential MT fighters in the US, look up Kenya Prach. He's a pretty notable martial arts figure in California's Bay Area. Oh! And watch the Ong Bak films. Those movies have great Muay Thai scenes as well.

Regarding Zuko's ponytail, originally he was supposed to have a chonmage (Japanese topknot), but they later changed it to be a more flowing ponytail.

So the resemblance to a mongkol was initially unintentional. However, when we get to the Sun Warriors, their aesthetic is very Southeast Asian. They seem to purposely give them headbands that resemble monkols, especially when paired with the ponytail.

[steddie-island]

Happy Trails (To You)

Written for @steddiebingo mini event Kissing Booth (and inspired by these pics of Joe in Australia 😌) Prompt: Unrequited love Rating: T | WC: 709 | No TW | Tags: pre-relationship, Eddie has a big ol' crush, Steve's slutty chest hair ao3 link | Divider credit

Eddie Munson was a fucking idiot. A fucking idiot who was losing his mind.

Or maybe he'd already lost it, and that was why he'd been so quick to agree to a trip to the beach. Sand, sun, beer.

One very wet Steve Harrington.

Eddie had to fight the urge to hide his face as Steve ran by again. At least Steve was oblivious to the way Eddie's eyes kept tracking him, hadn't caught Eddie lusting after what those black trunks made even more obvious than usual.

Maybe it wouldn't have been so hard to abstain if it was just those damned trunks. He'd been around Steve plenty the last few months, had seen him freshly showered and looking soft and rumpled in his pajamas before he'd fallen asleep on Eddie's couch. The domesticity of it all should have made a day at the beach like… well, a day at the beach.

But this was Steve, Steve and all of his gold skin, those constellations of moles that Eddie wanted to trace with his lips and his teeth and his tongue. And his stupid fucking hair! How did Steve manage to make it look good when it wasn't styled the way it usually was, when it was wet and messy and sticking to the back of his neck?

Eddie wanted to run his fingers through it, wanted to lick the salt from his throat and see what Steve sounded like when his fingers followed the line of his happy trail, all the way down to his co—

"Look out!"

Eddie yelped as the frisbee flew closer to him. Before it could actually hit him Steve was there, catching it easily and managing not to trip over Eddie in the process.

"Sorry!" Robin laughed and gave a little wave in his direction. "I told them not to let me try to throw it!"

Eddie waved her concern away. Truthfully he was grateful for the interruption. It wasn't like his own trunks hid much, and he really didn't want to try to hide long enough to get into the water. If he'd been left alone with his thoughts, he would've had a different sort of problem on his hands.

"You good, man?" Steve asked.

Eddie hoped the heat in his cheeks could be blamed on the sun and not on the fact that he was having to try so hard to not reach out and touch the pale strip of white peeking out just above Steve's waistband. "I'll be better when I have another drink."

Steve grinned and dug two beer bottles out of the cooler. He tossed one to Eddie, then cracked his own open easily. "Told you this was a good idea."

"Yeah! Yeah, great idea." Eddie wanted to kick his own ass. Every intelligent thought he'd ever had was long gone in the presence of this stupid golden jock with those stupid fucking hipbones that he wanted to get his mouth and his hands—

"You sure you're good?" Steve adjusted his trunks and, oh god.

Eddie got more of a glimpse of that white skin, got a peek of a thatch of hair at the end of his happy trail. It wasn't like he even got to see what was below that dark hair pasted to Steve's skin, but knowing what he'd seen, what was right beneath it, it was enough to make him fucking whimper.

"Eddie?" Steve's brow was furrowed with concern.

Eddie dragged his eyes from Steve's waistband to his face and gave a nod. "Yeah! Yeah, I'm— I'm good. Just— too warm." He took a long drink to prove his own point.

"Okay…" Steve set his own beer down in the shade of the cooler. His lips curled up into a smile. "Trust you to survive demobats, just to have heatstroke take you out."

That smile set something off in Eddie's stomach, made his heart thud painfully in his chest. "At least you're still here to save me again, right big boy?"

"Just say the word." Steve shot Eddie a wink, then turned to jog back to where Robin was spinning the frisbee between her hands.

Eddie rested his elbows on his knees and let his head hang between his shoulders. He was so fucked.

[bi-bard]

Thanks For Holding on So Long; Sorry Love Sucks - Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch Imagine [The Pitt]

Title: Thanks For Holding on So Long; Sorry Love Sucks

Pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch X Reader

Word Count: 1,669 words

Warning(s): angst, mention of divorce

Summary: [Inspired by "One More at Deluxe" from Island Song] Dr. Robby and (Y/n) face each other for the first time after years. It appears that time can't heal all wounds. In fact, it may be better at reopening them.

Author's Note: The people asked for Dr. Robby. So, I decided to break their hearts.

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

I thought that the worst day of my life would be the day that I moved out of the home I shared with my soon-to-be ex-husband. Standing by my rented moving truck, crying as I hugged him one last time and promising that I didn't hate him. That I was sorry.

By the time I had left, it didn't feel like a shocking event.

It felt like it was something that we had just been putting off for some time. Like it had been bubbling up for a while and then COVID made it all hit its boiling point.

I don't even know what the breaking point was. Or if there even was one.

That thought almost made it worse.

We were standing there with no hate. No anger. Just grief. Sadness that it was all over but too close to acceptance to stop it all from happening.

It all just felt so... inevitable. Yet that idea didn't stop me from blaming myself.

The first night in my new place after that was one of the worst nights of my life. I had almost no furniture. I was sitting on my desk chair, eating shitty fast food, and thinking about how much I messed everything up.

I cried. I got angry. I tried to deny how much it hurt.

It got easier. Eventually. Slowly.

I worked and repaired myself. Got a cat. Found out who I was outside of the one thing that I had really wanted to last forever.

It felt like a lucky break when I got a job on the other side of the country. It was everything I wanted. The pay was good, I would be closer to my family, and I would be able to sneak out of Pittsburgh before anyone would even know about it.

At least, that was what I had been hoping. Until my cat knocked over something loud while I was using a boxcutter and I found myself sitting in the waiting room of an E.R.

A very familiar E.R.

It was an interesting environment to observe. Some were angry. Some were too tired to even entertain the idea of being angry. Dread and impatience.

Yet it was all strangely calm. Anger was contained for the most part. Even though there was the rare fit being thrown, it was quickly cut off before it could escalate.

It was honestly a situation that could be studied.

I jumped up when I heard my name, pressing a little harder on the towel on my arm. I was lucky compared to most. No reason to waste extra time questioning if I had heard them right.

"Hello, I'm Dr. McKay," the woman introduced herself. "You're here for some stitches in your forearm. Can I get a look at the cut?"

I pulled the washcloth away from the wound.

"Oh, yeah, I see why you came in," she hissed like she could feel it. "Here, come back with me and we can take care of it."

"Thank you," I muttered, following her as quickly as I could.

I was hoping to be led back and taken care of with little issue. Just had to make it through the door without being spotted.

"(Y/n)?"

I turned instinctually at the sound of my name but wished that I hadn't.

There he was. My ex-husband.

"Michael," I greeted, nodding at him. It had been a long time since we had seen each other. A few years, maybe.

"What are you doing here," he asked.

"Stitches," I gestured to my arm. "Boxcutter versus forearm. Boxcutter won."

"Boxcutter always wins," he replied, reaching out to touch my arm. He pulled the washcloth off. "I can take care of this."

"It's no trouble-"

"I insist," Michael stopped Dr. McKay mid-sentence.

She looked at me for some confirmation. I nodded at her to let her know that I was comfortable with this. She grinned and touched my upper arm lightly before heading back out the way she came.

"Come on," Michael said as he motioned toward a chair.

He started working on my arm silently. I just watched the wound like it would miraculously be over if I just stared at it long enough.

"So... how did you end up in a battle with a boxcutter," he asked after a few minutes.

"My cat- I have a cat now- knocked something over while I was cutting up some old box to try to pack a little better," I explained. "He's a little shit, but I love him."

Michael chuckled.

"How've you been?"

"Oh, y'know, the job keeps me busy," he replied. I didn't push him. Asking about his mentor's death wouldn't do anything good.

"Higher up's still breathing down your neck?"

"And they probably always will. Patient satisfaction and all that."

I nodded.

It was nice knowing that the two of us could still talk to each other without too much tension.

It was nice to know that we were adult enough for that.

"Why were you packing," he asked.

"I- I got a new job," I said. "West coast. Oregon."

"Close to your parents," he noted.

"Same city, opposite ends."

"Good," he muttered, nodding as he repeated the word to himself. Like he was trying to convince himself that it was a good thing. "Excited?"

"Ecstatic." and petrified and sad and desperate and lonely and for god's sake, I wish he would just make eye contact with me.

"Alright, well, I hope you still have a bit of time in town because you'll have to come back in so we can make sure that wound is healing up like it should and get the stitches out later," he explained. "Look out for any signs of infection- excessive swelling, worsening redness, a bad smell even- and the care instructions will be in your discharge paperwork."

"Thanks," I grinned.

"I'll go grab that paperwork and walk you out."

"You don't have to walk me out-"

"Sorry, can't hear you, I've already walked away," he replied with his back to me. Smartass.

While I was waiting, I caught Dana's eye. She waved at me but didn't walk over. Thank goodness for that. I didn't have the energy to act super normal about this any longer.

"Alright, come on," Michael nodded over his shoulder, holding onto the paperwork for me.

"Michael-"

"Please, let me do this," he pleaded quietly.

I nodded. "Okay."

We walked out in silence.

There wasn't much more to say. What small talk can you make with your ex-husband?

If it had just been anyone else. If I had been married to anyone other than Michael, then maybe this would be easier. There was just something about him that kept me from healing completely. Especially now that I was leaving.

It felt like so much was left unsaid. So many chances lost. I knew logically that there was no real way to fix what had broken. I guess some stubborn part of me wanted to believe that maybe I could if I just had a little bit more time.

"Well, here we are," Michael said as we approached my car. He handed me my care instructions and paperwork. "You're all set. Good luck with the job and everything. It's... I know it's what you've wanted to do for a while."

"Thank you," I grinned at him. "And good luck to you too. With all of the shit that happens here."

He chuckled.

"Be well, Michael, please," I added. "Don't be so stubborn about needing help."

He shook his head, looking away from me for a moment. I saw his sad face when he turned back to me. I saw him just starting to cry.

"Hey," I muttered, reaching over and wiping a tear from his face, forcing a smile. "None of that."

He grabbed my hand, holding it to his cheek. I took a sharp breath. How many times had he cried over me? Was it anywhere close to how many times I had cried over him? Did he still find himself crying now like I do?

"You'll be alright," I reassured, my voice cracking as I frantically blinked away tears of my own. "You'll go on and save lives. I'll get to live closer to my parents."

I barely even registered him stepping closer to me.

"And this goodbye isn't forever," I insisted. "You have my number. Call me if you ever visit Oregon. And I'll call you if I ever come back here."

He moved even closer. I realized what was going on in his mind.

My words got caught in my throat for a moment before he properly leaned forward. "And you won't kiss me."

He stopped, not pulling back but not pushing forward. His eyes closed. "Why not?"

"Because you know that if you did, I wouldn't leave," I explained. Some of my words broke into some pathetic whisper that I hadn't heard since I left that day. "I would stay and fight for you. And you'd fight for me. And I'd pretend like it didn't kill me to not go through with this. And I would eventually start to hate you for convincing me."

I grabbed his hand, placing a small kiss on his knuckles before letting go again.

"And I refuse to live in a world where I hate you."

I let out a huff as he quickly pulled me into a tight hug. A sad smile found its way to my face as I hugged him back. He mumbled into my ear, "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too," I replied, just as quietly.

I slowly stepped back. Nodding at him. It was some attempt to be reassuring and comforting. I don't think it worked. But either way, he nodded back at me.

I don't know how long I sat in my car after that. It was long enough to watch him walk back inside.

If the night I moved out wasn't the worst night of my life, then this moment would have to be it.

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[eggsistential-breakdown]

Okay, but hear me out -- what if his parents weren't usually red and blue?

[wormshirt]

The Doctor needs one of those classes they give to expecting/hopeful parents but for humans. Get their ass enrolled in a parenting course. And everytime they get a new companion he has to retake the course.

[xcziel]

feeling nostalgic and watching utube reactors discover classic songs and then feeling both old and incredulous

[bugbakery]

hey Jess/spoonfulvanilla/seeingthrough/sugaredhiccup/faeriehiccup/idk: I talked to Jacob's ex all night and she was the first and Only person to be honest with me in 4 years. I will not be having any more public blogs again because of you, so you don't have to worry about obsessively checking the urls of mine you've retained. go post about it; you physically cannot refrain from doing so, I know. lol. you'll post about it 1000 times before you think about changing. do whatever. just leave me alone, I have nothing left for you. you've taken enough from me, thank you. there's so much to be said about this but i have too many real things to worry about to even. comprehend. how much of a mistake talking to you and being vulnerable was...and unlike everyone involved in this thing....i really don't care anymore!!!!!!!!! just LISTEN TO YOUR INSTINCTS!!!!! ALWAYS!!!!!!!!!!! I just needed to put this behind me so I can focus on things that matter. thank you! enjoy the food, sorry.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

skinamarble hornets, i was like i hope my favorite skinamascene has been uplomarinked on youtube....reminds me of that season one marble hornets entry that's the First House Visit and how i saw it described somewhere as like "absolutely nothing happens, & it's terrifying" & it reminds me of the torment of watching as the series was released & Every Time something came out, no matter what happened in like setting, atmosphere, plot, scares, there'd be someone going "ugh another Nothing entry" over the most crucial &/or enjoyable shit so long as it didn't feature [& he's cookin hot dogs on the stove???] & didn't feature it like every other minute for good measure. as though a format that is predictable, like the promise of the same kind of scene in the same intervals of timing, would actually be scary or at all interesting. shoutout to these the entries, or even intervals of time within entries, where "absolutely nothing happens" and it's called suspense in knowing it Could, tension in an unsafe, uneasy, unsettling situation in the meantime, & then also potential followup recontextualization that only creates more tension for later similar material. ("absolutely nothing" happens (of course, actually, things happen, but) in the skinamarink scene save for the literal last few seconds when the "jumpscare" is a very brief change in audio & visuals which is neither actually that loud nor like showing anything scary(tm) (technically a la marble hornets i think people say you can like see an arm extend for a nanosecond but i never catch it if so lol) but rather hits at all because of 8 minutes of suspense & tension & Nothing Happening But It Could) (also bravely standing up like "it's fine that skinamarink has some jumpscares, including the obvious few even jumpier than this" like who cares if it's "easy" necessarily & also that Knowing such startlement can happen ramps up the tension even when it didn't, but it could've. like so)

[chuluoyi]

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"