#like if it's gonna be someone it's the guy who's one of the people up top who tormented him for years because that makes sense | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ebodebo · 14 hours ago

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Friends Who Kiss!

with Jason Todd.

...it's okay to kiss a friend. right?

You catch a whiff of cheap beer and weed from a mile away, even before stepping into the party.

The scent hit you like a wall as the door swung open, revealing a crowd of crossfaded college students behind a plastered guy who could barely hold it together.

“Yo! Who brought the strippers?” He shouts, slurring his words, clearly trying to joke about you and your friend.

“Knock it off, dipshit,” your friend shoots back, rolling her eyes as she shoves him aside and reaches for your hand, pulling you inside behind her.

It felt oddly surreal.

You had been to countless college parties at both sororities and fraternities, yet nothing could quite prepare you for the atmosphere of this place.

To your left, a couple was grinding, nearing dry-humping, against each other on the tattered couch.

To your right, a group of friends were passing around a blunt, all while downing shots of vodka.

And ahead of you and your friend, a raucous game of strip beer pong was in full swing.

The two guys, their competitive spirits high, were down to their boxers while the girls remained fully clothed.

Who knew that most college guys, the self-proclaimed beer pong champions, were so ass at the game?

As you approached the kitchen, the smell of stale beer and sweat hit you. "You want a drink?" Your friend chimes, her voice barely audible over the thumping bass.

Her hand was already reaching for two plastic cups and a bottle of straight Jägermeister.

"Getting straight to it, huh?" You reply, grinning as she pours a heaping shot for herself.

"Gonna need the alcohol to deal with these fucking moron guys," she laughs, automatically pouring a shot for you too.

"You know I have an eight a.m. tomorrow?" You raise an eyebrow as she slides the liquor your way.

With a smile, she takes hold of her plastic cup. "All the more reason for you to drink," she replies, her lips brushing the rim.

"You're a bad girl," you tease, a playful spark in your eye as you quickly grab the cup and bring it to your lips.

"The baddest," she purrs, and you both down the shot in unison.

The tangy citrus liquor burns as it goes down, leaving a fiery trail in its wake.

"Tastes like shit," you hiss, wiping your lips with the back of your hand as the intense aroma lingers on your tongue.

"All the booze that gets you fucked up tastes like shit," she corrects, picking up a left-out slice of lime and sucking the juice from it.

"Here," she offers you a fresh lime wedge.

You bite into the wedge, the juice washing away the harsh taste of the potent liqueur.

"Let’s pour another," your friend suggests, already reaching for the bottle of Fireball on the counter.

You roll your eyes but didn’t turn down the offer.

After all, you had been pretty good these last couple of months, only enjoying the occasional glass of wine.

As she fills the plastic cups with whiskey, the remnants of Jägermeister mingling with the liqueur, you notice some commotion by the entrance.

Your gaze drifted over to the front door, curious about the sudden influx of people that seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

"I knew you’d show up!" A guy shouted excitedly.

"Dude, you've got to try this new stuff I brought back from Ibiza!" Another one yelled.

"What’s all the fuss about over there?" Your friend remarks, Fireball dripping from her lip down to her chin in her usual carefree style.

You side-eye her, glancing at her now empty cup.

"Sorry! It was just calling to me," she says, raising her hands in mock surrender.

"It’s a liquid," you reply dryly, adding to the playful banter.

"It was!" She insists with a grin.

You roll your eyes at her playful antics and turn your attention back to the commotion, where an apparent celebrity has caught everyone’s attention.

To your surprise, it was Jason, someone you recognized well, making his way through the crowd.

Guys were clapping him on the shoulder, and girls were gazing at him as he passed by.

A truly ridiculous sight.

When his eyes locked onto yours, he veered off course and headed straight towards you and your friend.

You shook off your disbelief and chuckled as he approached.

"Ladies," he greets with a smile.

"Hi, Jason," your friend timidly greets.

"Blondie," he tips his head towards her.

"Big man on campus, huh?" You tease, a playful glint in your eye.

He shrugs, rolling his eyes. "You know how they are."

"Thought you'd be in Gotham tonight?" You cut in before he can greet you separately, a hint of curiosity in your voice.

"Eh. Plans changed," he remarks, a sly smirk on his lips.

You pick up the plastic cup with Fireball, placing the rim on your lips. "Have they?"

"Yeah," his eyes wander to your cup. "You gonna drink that?"

"I was planning to—" You begin before Jason takes the cup and downs it in one gulp.

"Sorry. Was a little thirsty," he suspires, wiping the alcohol from his lips.

Your eyes narrow. "Yeah. I'd say so."

"Well...I'm gonna leave you too," your friend beside you says. "Nice to see you, Jason," she beams.

"Likewise," he winks at her as she walks away, almost hitting the wall. "She's cute," he remarks.

"What were your plans before you detoured here?" You ask, eyebrow raised, paying no mind to his previous comment.

"That's classified, Sweetheart," he says, his voice a mix of authority and warmth.

"Oh, right," you nod along, moving closer to him. "I almost forgot you habitually swing around Gotham at night."

"Hey, hey!" He mutters, ushering you to a nearby empty hallway. "What the hell is up with you?" Concern laces his tone.

"You totally flaked on me yesterday," you mutter, annoyance in your tone. "Had to go eat dinner with my mom alone."

"What do you—oh shit," he sighs, realization dawning on him. "That was yesterday?"

You nod. "Yeah, and you ditched me."

He runs a hand over his face, a mix of frustration and regret evident in his expression. "I'm—fuck. I'm really sorry."

There is sincerity in his tone, but you’re not ready to let him off that easily.

You wanted to bust his balls a little.

"I'm still mad at you," you say, turning your head away from him and crossing your arms.

He lets out a breathy laugh at your display. "Is that how it's gonna be?" He remarks, his voice low.

"Seems so," you reply matter-of-factly.

"That's a shame," he mutters gruffly.

You glance at him, arms still crossed. "Why's that?"

"Well…I just. Nah. Never mind," he says, raising his hands as if to shoo away the question.

You turn to face him fully. "Now you have to tell me!" You exclaim, playfully pushing his shoulder with your hand.

"I was just thinking we could, you know, do another shot?" He suggests. "Have a little fun?"

You purse your lips. "Hmm. It depends on what the shots are."

He smiles. "Whatever the hell you want."

You give him a curt nod, satisfied with his answer. "Good answer."

Grabbing him by the forearm, you pull him back to the kitchen, where you pour a mixture of whiskey, vodka, and juice into two plastic cups.

"This is gonna taste like shit," Jason groans as he peers into the cup on the counter.

"Yeah, but it's what I want," you pass him the cup, taking the other in your hand.

He rolls his eyes playfully. "Okay, okay."

You both knock back the shots simultaneously.

It tastes...well, like shit.

But, whatever.

You just wanted to get fucked up.

And maybe bust Jason's balls some more.

Only time will tell.

"We can't. We're just friends," you murmur, a hint of desperation in your voice.

You've known Jason for years, and your friendship has always been a safe haven, a place where you could be yourself without any romantic complications.

But tonight, something has changed.

"Come on, Sweetheart," Jason coaxes. "We can have fun. Can't we?"

You're struggling to understand how this unexpected turn of events has shaped your night.

You and Jason weren't even really that drunk, just tipsy.

Not slurring words or wobbly when walking, just loose lips apparently.

After that weird cocktail mix you made, you and Jason took one more shot of straight vodka, made your way to one of the rooms off the kitchen, and simply sat on the ground in front of the bed and talked.

Talked for how long?

You're not entirely sure.

But somewhere in between talking about your exam next Wednesday and Jason's nights spent as a vigilante, things became more intimate.

Because now he was trying to convince you that one kiss won't hurt.

You do want to kiss him.

Desperately actually.

But the fear of losing his friendship or changing the dynamics holds you back.

"I don't know..." You trail off as Jason's hand brushes against your cheek. "Won't it be weird after?"

"Not if we don't make it weird," he hums, eyes staring at your lips.

You release a small breath as his hand moves to cup your jaw.

"You tell me no if you don't want to," his voice is serious, and his eyes lock with yours.

You nod, teeth digging into your lip. "I think...just a small kiss won't hurt. Right?" You try to convince yourself as you find yourself leaning closer.

"Yeah," he says mechanically. "Small," he affirms as his lips press into yours.

You weren't entirely sure what you expected, but, holy shit, it wasn't this.

Your skin sizzled, and a fire ignited in your stomach.

His lips were so soft against yours.

Although it was meant to be a brief kiss, just a fleeting moment of connection you both knew you shouldn't indulge in, the pull was too strong and the desire too intense to resist.

It was a battle you were losing, and you didn't even want to win.

Your lips moved in perfect sync.

Why the hell would you want to stop that?

You placed your hand gently on his jaw, drawing him closer and deepening the kiss.

A soft groan escapes from him, and you catch it in your mouth, causing you to whimper.

Jason can't help it.

The soft sounds you were making were slowly driving him up the wall.

His hands moved to grip your waist, pulling you onto you so you straddle him.

You never stop kissing him.

Not even to complain about him moving you onto his lap.

You can't even find it in you to be bothered.

Your hands are moving through his hair, as his messily skim over your hips, occasionally squeezing your ass.

"Can’t believe I waited so long to kiss you," he whispers against your lips.

"Feels so good."

A soft moan escapes your lips at his compliment, and you can feel a wave of tingles spreading over your skin.

"Yeah?" You murmur, your teeth playfully nibbling at his bottom lip.

"Oh fuck," he mumbles, fingers digging into your waist.

His heavy-lidded gaze catches yours. "Yeah, feels so good, Baby."

You let out a soft breath in response to his endearing words. "Should we...stop?" you ask hesitantly, your fingers gently running through his hair.

Internally, hoping he says no.

“No, Sweetheart,” he replies softly, his gaze fixed on your lips with undeniable fascination. “Unless you want to.”

Just as you’re about to respond, a loud banging on the door startles both you and Jason.

"Occupied!" You shout back, turning towards the door.

You shift your focus back to Jason's eyes, and in that moment, something pulls you back into reality.

"Oh, fuck," you exclaim, shifting off his lap and settling onto the carpet beside him instead.

"You oka—" Jason begins, sensing your frenzy before you interrupt him.

"Oh my God. We totally just made out," your hands are anxiously gliding through your hair. "And I liked it!"

Jason lets out a shallow laugh as his hand gently rests against your shoulder. "It's alright," he coos. “I liked it, too."

Your eyes flick to his. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, it was...really nice," he awkwardly says.

Your lip quips at his awkwardness. "It was," you agree.

"Listen, I—" He starts to say, but is cut off once more by a notification on his phone. It’s from Barbara, alerting him about a local crime circuit in Blüdhaven.

"Shit," he curses as he moves to stand. "I'm really sorry. I have to—"

"It's okay, Jason. I get it," you say with complete assurance. "Gotta go play vigilante."

"I'm in a rush, so I'm not going to touch on that," he shoves the phone into his pocket. "Can I come by your dorm after?" He carefully asks.

"Yeah. Okay..." You nod your head, pursing your lips awkwardly.

"You're being weird about it," Jason tips his head down.

"No! No! I just...let's talk later, alright?" You exhale deeply, doing your best to suppress your shyness.

He gives a nod before leaning down to kiss your forehead, then turns and walks out of the bedroom.

As he steps out, you lean your head against the bed's edge, allowing yourself to dive deep into your thoughts.

It wouldn't be the worst if you and Jason started dating.

If that's what he wanted.

He's kind, charming, and quite attractive.

You're unsure if it's just your inebriated state of mind.

But then you remember drunk words are sober thoughts.

So, you may be totally crushing one of your dear friends.

There are worse things to have happened.

author’s note: sorry to tease, but writing smut is too much atm lol also tried a new format hehe i’m kind of feeling it. not proofread!

divider by @/saradika-graphics!

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ginxyy · 2 days ago

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“Mine”

The music still thrummed through the walls, a muffled echo of the energy still crackling in the air. The event had been a whirlwind—bright lights, loud cheers, and a sea of people. Now, backstage, things were quieter, but not by much. Conversations hummed, laughter spilled from corners, and you found yourself caught in one—your attention focused on a man whose name you barely remembered.

He was charming, sure. Smiling too much, leaning a little too close. But he was harmless. Just talking.

Seungcheol, however, saw something else.

He had been watching you the entire time, jaw clenched so tight it ached. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, a storm brewing behind his dark eyes. He saw the way the man looked at you, how he leaned in when he spoke. And worst of all, he saw you let him.

The moment the guy reached for your wrist, even if only for a second, Seungcheol moved.

His grip was iron when he grabbed your arm, pulling you away with a force that left no room for argument. The air around him was thick with something dangerous—possessive, raw, unyielding. You barely had time to react before he dragged you down the hallway, away from the crowd, from prying eyes.

He shoved open a door—a dressing room, dimly lit—and pulled you inside. The door slammed shut behind you.

“Seungcheol—”

“You think I’m fucking blind?” His voice was low, dark, vibrating with something you couldn’t quite name.

Your breath caught. “What are you talking about?”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. He stepped closer, forcing you back until you hit the wall. His hands slammed against it, caging you in. “Don’t play dumb,” he murmured, voice dripping with something dangerous. “I saw you. Letting him touch you. Laughing like he fucking deserved it.”

Your heart pounded. “It was just a conversation.”

His head tilted, and his tongue swiped over his lower lip, like he was trying to keep himself in check. “Is that all it was?” His hand found your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you aware of his strength. “Because from where I was standing, it looked like he was trying to take what’s mine.”

Heat rushed through you, a sharp mix of frustration and something else—something that made your knees weak.

“You don’t own me,” you whispered.

Something dark flashed in his eyes. He leaned in, breath ghosting over your lips. “The hell I don’t.”

His grip tightened, pulling you against him. You felt the way his body burned, how hard his chest rose and fell. His control was hanging by a thread, and God, he was so beautiful like this—jealous, possessive, desperate.

“You think I’m gonna just stand there and watch you let someone else touch you?” His voice was rough, thick with something that made your skin prickle. His fingers traced up your arm, slow, deliberate, until they curled around your jaw, tilting your face up to his.

“You belong to me,” he whispered, voice dark and honeyed, sending a shiver down your spine. “Say it.”

Your breath hitched. “Seungcheol—”

“Say it.”

The tension crackled between you, electric, suffocating. His lips hovered over yours, close enough to taste, but not touching. He wanted you to give in first. He needed it.

And maybe you did too.

“Yours,” you finally whispered, barely audible—but it was enough.

His lips crashed into yours, and everything snapped.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was a claim.

His hands roamed, gripping, pulling, owning. He kissed you like he wanted to burn his name into your skin, to make sure you’d never forget who you belonged to. There was nothing soft about it. It was raw, all teeth and heat and need.

When he finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. His forehead pressed against yours, and his hands stayed firm on your hips, holding you there like he’d never let go.

“Next time you wanna make me jealous,” he murmured, lips brushing against your cheek, “be ready to deal with the consequences.”

His words sent a sharp thrill down your spine.

And God, you wanted to test him again.

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leeknowsnot · 2 days ago

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SKZ when you suddenly call them with their full name

I am posting every entry I have written in my notes app to make it up to you guys. 😭😭😭 Anyway, happy hearts day to everyone!!

CHAN

— his eyebrows are immediately raised and he's looking at you like "Did you just call me with my full name?" with eyes wide enough for you to poke them

— you pretend you don't hear him and just continue on with talking to him and calling him Christopher

— he's immediately on your tail like a kid, asking the same question all over again you can't help but pinch yourself to stop yourself from giggling at how cute he is

— he calls you all sorts of cute nicknames to make you surrender to his cuteness

— eventually you do give up and when you start calling him back with your nickname for him, oh my God he smiles at you so cutely you could just dive into his dimples

— you are spoiled

MINHO

— definitely the type to call you back with your full name

— you challenged the wrong person, now he's gonna be the one who'll call your full name with EVERY sentence he'd say until you admit defeat iT BACKFIRED SO BAD

— evERY CHANCE HE GETS HE'S GONNA DO IT

— especially when you guys are out with friends, he's gonna call your full name WITH YOUR MIDDLE NAME people are gonna start staring

— you start ignoring him whenever he calls you your full name on purpose and oh does that annoy him eventually

— the audacity to ignore him and be annoyed with him when you were the one who started this little game, right?

— "kitten got a taste of her own medicine?"

— he's gonna punish you for being such a bad kitty wink w0nk

CHANGBIN

— his pouts are aLL OVER THE PLACE

— whoever sees him gets a free show over a man with biceps pouting like the big baby he is

— he'd feel a bit off at first but eventually gets used to it eventually cause he dares not to pick on how you want to call him

— even if it's a bit weird, he'll tolerate and learn to accept it if that's what you want

— tELL HIM IT'S JUST A PRANK HE'S TOO WHOLESOME FOR THIS WORLD 😠

— would be weirded out again trying to adjust to being called with his nickname again when you finally stop with your prank

HYUNJIN

— will give you an offended stare as if you just committed a sin

— no cuddles for u because he said you're not his gf and says he doesn't know u

— he's gonna make such a big deal abt it to the point Chan would be calling you in the middle of the night asking you if you guys fought cause Hyunjin's acting so weird, like he's so pouty and edgy

— so when you said it's only because you called him by his government name for a prank, Chan L O S E S it

— you'd find a pouty Hyunjin in the morning, complaining cause Chan gave him an earful for maging a big deal out of your prank

— he basically forgot you were the one who started it . at least he's pouty over Chan instead of you anymore

HAN

— waterworks EVERYWHERE

— how dare you make him cry

— the moment you call him Han Jisung it's over for him

— the London Bridge is falling, Eiffel Tower is collapsing, the icebergs are melting

— "Is he better than me? Is he treating you better at least?"

— sTARTS ASKING QUESTIONS THAT SOUNDS LIKE YOU LOVE SOMEONE ELSE NOW BC HE'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH AND HE THINKS YOU DESERVE BETTER

— expect him pulling all-nighters writing a sad love song

— when you explain to him that it was just a prank, he immediately bursts into tears, either in relief that you still love him or bc you messed with his feelings 💀

— how dare you make him cry pt.2

— turns the sad love song that he wrote into a body roll song

FELIX

— he immediately catches on and knows it's a popular prank trend amongst couples so he plays along

— but ofc he's still making sure it really is a prank and you're not actually mad at him

— your friends would be looking at you both weirdly and think you guys have broken up but maintained good friendship

— his friends only know you by nickname so when they saw your caller id on Felix's phone and it was your actual full name, they were having multiple question marks as to why Felix was being all so chummy and sweet with this (Y/N) on the phone

— the next time you meet them they'd be shaking while trying to tell you that Felix has been cheating on you with someone named (Y/N)

— oh my God you and Felix die from laughter

SEUNGMIN

— tbh he doesn't care

— he'd been trying to get you to stop calling him smookie poo, pookie, moochie bear, and all sorts of nicknames the past weeks so this was actually a win situation for him

— he enjoys it too much he starts frowning at you when you go back to calling him the nicknames

— "Where'd the 'Yah, Kim Seungmin' go?"

— 10 out of 10 he loves the prank, would definitely avail for more 💀

— Now he won't stop demanding you to do it again

I.N

— immediately thinks he did something wrong but he just sITS THERE PROCESSING AND STARING AT YOU WITH HIS FAKE EYES OPEN

— he'd malfunction so bad how can you do this to him

— he's already clumsy as is but bc you're making him overthink, he's unintentionally breaking and dropping stuff all over the place

— in the "is-she breaking-up-with-me/did-she-find-someone-better" lineup

— he doesn't show it tho

— he tries not to at least

— would send you all sorts of gifts; flowers, chocolates, champagne, stuffed toys, you name it—it's his love language

— he'd actually try to win you back from this "new guy"

— when you tell him it's just a prank, he doesn't talk to u for a few days and gives you the silent treatment

— i mean, you obviously had it coming

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w2mini · 2 days ago

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RED MEANS TAKEN DUMMY! atsumu x reader

-happy valentines 𓂃۶ৎ warnings: reader is reserved, swearings, black cat x golden retriever (I'm never getting tired of this trope for atsumu) fluff only

For Atsumu, he's always been drawn to you—the quiet, pretty muse from unfortunately another class who never seemed to fall for his popular charm. And what's worst is that you weren't even doing anything to catch his attention. It was just a random Tuesday when you were introduced as a new student in Inarizaki, then went on with your day as a normal student like everyone would—and that?

That drove him crazy.

It was probably your reserved nature that felt refreshing to him since he's used to having a crowd of admirers around him. You weren't trying to stand out, be loud—you just always seemed like you had your own little world to be content with.

And he desperately wants to be a part of your life. But let's be real—he's probably not the type to immediately accept his feelings about you because this is genuinely the first time he's falling for someone, so with some ups and downs, denial, and winning a war with his own feelings—yep, he wanted you BAD.

So little by little, he would hang out with you during breaks, keep you company, and slowly become a part of your inner circle—you grew fond of him in your own quiet way. So with Valentines coming up, Atsumu decides it would be the perfect time to confess his undying love for you.

But of course this is an Inarizaki centered story, and it's not one without chaos.

"Yo, have you guys seen the new post from the student council?" The volleyball club were currently in the gym practicing as usual every after school times. Akagi, who was simply scrolling at his phone during break ends up with an interesting post from their student council's social media page regarding the event tomorrow. "The color-coded shirts? still haven't decided what I'm gonna wear to be honest." Aran replied, approaching Akagi to look at his phone, checking what each color meant. To celebrate Valentines, the student council announces a color-coded Valentine's event wherein students wear shirts that indicate their relationship status: Red meant taken, White meant single, Pink means friend-zoned, Black meant heartbroken, etc. Atsumu, who was already plotting his confession, grinned to himself. White it is, because, obviously, he's saving himself for you. So could you just imagine on a Valentines day morning, he's all excited walking at the school, ready to show off in front of you, and sees you in the hallway—

... wearing a red top.

aka TAKEN.

his soul shatters at the sight.

I—what—When—WHO???? Osamu and Suna who was with him—seeing the devastated face on Atsumu bursts into laughter.

He turned to Osamu, aggressively whispering "WHEN THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN???”

"She's taken? tough luck Miya." Suna says in between giggles.

You on the other hand who was just simply talking to a friend—doesn’t recognize the chaos happening behind you for wearing a red top.

“You never told me you were in a relationship?” Your friend offhandedly asks, but they were also internally panicking because they know about Atsumu’s plan.

You tilted your head in confusion, “huh? but I dont?”

“what? it’s red though.” your friend points at your top.

“so? don’t people wear red for valentines?”

You friend’s expression drops.

“[name] you dumbass.”

—

Atsumu spent the whole day sulking, even during practice. He messed up the easiest receives, screwed up his sets, and almost hit Suna on the head with his serve.

that damn red top, he’s never been this furious over a color, and what’s worst is that you looked good with that top too!

How come he had already lost without starting?

And how come he never knew you were already in a relationship? You never gave hints or said anything about being in a relationship—

“If I were you, I would’ve confessed already rather than sulking like that.” easier said than done Aran.

“She was wearing red, RED!” Atsumu dramatically exclaims as he drowns on his own sorrows.

“What did red mean again?” Ginjima asks.

“Taken.” Suna replied bluntly, making Atsumu hiss at the word.

“Never stood a chance huh?” Osamu grinned mockingly.

“SHUT YER TRAP SAMU.”

Kita could only facepalm at the situation, but he’s rather amused since this is the first time he’s seen Atsumu like this, “You know Atsumu, have you ever thought that maybe she just wore the color and discarding the meaning?”

Atsumu’s ears perked up, then Ginjima suddenly had a lightbulb over his head, “Oh yeahhh, it could mean like that too, there were a bunch of guys wearing black for fun earlier despite not being in a relationship.”

“Maybe try asking her about it then?” Akagi suggested.

I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Actually scrap that, it would.

That is until knocking was heard on the doors of the gym.

The team looks over to the source of the sound then sees—

You… with a small box.

“Uhm, pardon me but can I call for Atsumu?” You asked, peeking over to the doors.

Atsumu immediately RAN and was suddenly infront of you, looking… nervous?

“Did ya’ uh, need anything?” he asks, his voice crackling a little.

Then, you hold out the gift to him. “For you.”

Atsumu froze.

“Huh…?”

“Thanks for always keeping me company,” you say softly. “I know I’m not the easiest person to approach.”

Atsumu finally finds his voice. “Wait—so yer not datin’ anyone?”

You blink. “No, why?”

His brain short circuited. He points at your top, “But—THAT’S RED.”

“So?”

That’s when he realizes.

You didn’t know shit about the color-coded event.

His entire face lights up, and lets out the most dramatic sigh of relief. “Wearing red means taken stupid.” He says, flicking your forehead.

It was your turn to get struck by realization now.

No wonder everyone kept asking if you were in a relationship, and no WONDER everyone was wearing different colors for valentines.

Oh you feel fucking stupid.

You then immediately took your phone out, opening an app then searching for your school’s official account page.

You face drops seeing the png file on the very first post that appeared, no wonder why your friend had asked that odd question.

“I—didn’t know…” you muttered, embarrassed about the whole misunderstanding.

Atsumu only chuckled in response, laughing at your misery. “Yer’ killin me ya know that? I though I lost my chance before I even tried.”

You perked up. “You were trying?”

“Obviously.” He grinned.

You smiled warmly, feeling funny about the situation. “Try harder then.”

Atsumu had the brightest grin on his face, he ruffled your hair then gently took the gift from your hands. “Oh I definitely will.”

“P-D-A ALERT” Osamu suddenly shouted from the gym, surprising you and pissing off Atsumu.

“MIND YER OWN BUSINESS!”

WOOOO KINDA SHORT IM SO SORRY GUYS but happy valentines!! and of course I had to celebrate it by writing my all time favorite character😻 hope you guys enjoyed HDJHFODK

💐 >> bouquets for those who don’t feel special enough on this special day <33

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shurisneakers · 1 day ago

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unsolved (ix)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky, obnoxious reader, groups of people that believe in the paranormal

A/N: im sorry i disappeared i am employed now and also i am depressed. anyway pls lemme know what u guys think i love reading comments and screaming and everything you have to say MWAH. next one is a big one boys

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Bucky wakes up to a weary, bone-deep sense of dread.

Not the kind of dread that means a sniper is lurking outside his window. No, this is a very specific kind of dread that sets in suddenly, altogether at once.

He knows exactly what it means.

You are about to ruin his day.

His eyes flicker open, adjusting to the light filtering through his windows.

The floor is quiet. Too quiet, almost.

Alpine is curled on the windowsill, tail flicking idly. But he finds her staring at him already with mild judgment, as if she knows exactly what’s about to happen.

Bucky rubs a hand down his face, exhaling. He doesn’t know why he feels like this, because you’d taken to simply texting him the location these days, and then banging on his door.

It was routine. He’d come to expect it. Like it, even, the way someone likes mundane sounds such as the buzz of the microwave heating up their lunch everyday.

Except there’s a sudden, loud slam against his window.

Alpine launches off the windowsill, scrambling away with a hiss.

Bucky is out of bed before his brain catches up. Years of instinct launch him into motion as he grips the knife under his pillow, pivots toward the sound–

And sees you.

Hovering. Three stories up.

Waving.

Bucky full-body recoils and it takes everything in him not to launch his fucking knife at the window.

He glares at you, barely awake, trying to process the absolute absurdity of this moment.

You tap your wrist like a watch, mouthing, "Video shoot."

Bucky turns around and launches a pillow at the window, furiously mouthing back, “I hope you fall.”

You grin.

His furiousness turns to raging annoyance at best. Which, in turn, makes him angry again.

Just as he’s about to throw something heavier, FRIDAY dims the window until you fade from view. He doesn’t know who FRIDAY is protecting.

Bucky collapses back onto his mattress.

He contemplates ignoring you again, but experience has taught him that only makes things worse.

Five minutes later, he’s stomping down the stairs.

Bucky yanks open the car door and slides into the passenger seat.

Wordlessly, he shoves a coffee in your direction.

You blink at it. “How do you know my coffee order?”

Bucky grunts. “Do you want it or not?”

You take it, narrowing your eyes as you watch him chug it like it’s water. “Coffee doesn’t even work on you. Why do you drink it?”

He pauses mid-sip.

You tilt your head. "Do you even like the taste?"

Bucky slowly stares at the coffee like it personally wronged him, because no, he’s coming to realise that didn’t really like it.

“…No,” he allows slowly.

“Then why are you drinking it?”

His grip tightens around the cup. He doesn’t have a good answer, so he doesn’t look at you.

“Bought it,” he grumbles. ‘M gonna drink it.”

“Sunken cost fallacy, right there,” you hum. “You bought it, so now you have to suffer through it. That’s a weird thing you do, y'know.”

Bucky exhales sharply, already done with this conversation. “It’s just coffee.”

“It’s just coffee,” you agree, watching him out of the corner of your eye. “And you just can’t let yourself pick something else. You a glutton for punishment?”

He scowls, taking another sip of the stupid beverage he didnt expect to be having a crisis over in the evening.

"Whole world of warm drinks out there, Barnes. You ever tried chai? A matcha? You could be a matcha guy."

"No."

"You could be drinking hot chocolate. I think you'd like that. Marshmallows and everything.”

Bucky grips his cup harder.

"Hell, even warm lemonade would be a better choice."

Bucky scrunches his nose at the thought of warm lemonade and chugs his coffee out of spite.

You shake your head. “Whatever. Drink your hot bean water then.”

Silence stretches. The car hums down the highway. The weight of whatever he’s been avoiding lingers in the air between you.

Only five minutes later does it occur to him to ask.

“Where are we going?”

You shoot him a wide smile. “To make you some friends.”

Bucky closes his eyes. “I have friends.”

“You have Sam. And Steve.”

“Sam and Steve are enough.”

“Sam and Steve are legally obligated to be your friends.”

Bucky side-eyes you. “That’s not how friendship works.”

“You’d be surprised.”

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. "Is this another haunted house? ‘Cause if it is, I'm staying in the car."

"No haunted house."

"Then what?"

You drum your fingers on the wheel. "We're going to check out the fastest-growing paranormal club in the city."

Bucky exhales through his nose, mentally preparing himself.

"What’s the scam?" he deadpans.

"No scam." You pause. "Well, maybe a little scam. But I’m choosing to believe in the inherent goodness of humanity."

Bucky glances at you. “What kind of scam?”

“Maybe you��ll find yourself today, y’know? Maybe you’ll even be a treasured member of this club.”

Bucky leans all the way back in his seat, shutting his eyes before he has an aneurysm.

The location is exactly as sketchy as Bucky expected.

Which, to be clear, is very.

A run-down community center at the edge of the city, sandwiched between a failing laundromat and a storage facility that definitely has bodies in it.

The parking lot has three cars, two of which are missing doors. The third is a white van with no plates.

Bucky stares at it. “I’m staying in the car.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You can get your organs harvested. I’m not in the mood for that today.”

“We are not getting our organs harvested.”

“We are about to walk into a situation that requires a white van with no plates.”

You tap the steering wheel. “You’re focusing on the wrong details.”

“Oh? What fuckin’ details should I be focusing on?”

You refuse to make eye contact. “I will not be taking questions at this time.”

A sign by the door says:

WELCOME, SEEKERS OF THE TRUTH.

Bucky points at it. “What the fuck is that?”

“They’re just seekers, Buck.” You unbuckle. “They’re seeking. Let them seek.”

“That’s not what that means.”

“They have over five hundred members in their Facebook group.”

Bucky rubs a hand down his face. “The Boogeyman fan club has eight thousand, so what?”

“Okay, but to be fair— Boogeyman’s hot.”

Bucky stares at you.

You stare back, unblinking.

“Do you want me to respond to that?”

“Only if you agree.”

Bucky inhales slowly, counting to ten.

Still, he gets out of the car. Because he always does.

The guy at the door looks exactly like someone who would be enthusiastic about this kind of thing. Whatever it was.

Late twenties, cargo pants, black t-shirt, and… a cape. He stands in the doorway like he’s personally responsible for deciding who gets to know the truth.

Bucky is already exhausted.

You, however, are delighted.

“Hi!” you chirp, walking up to him. “We’re The Gra–”

Instead, the guy squints. “Hold on. I know you. You’re from TV.”

“Uh, yeah, he is–” you glance at Bucky, who glares at you for throwing him under the bus, but it’s not like you had been set up for interviews just yet or had any major public saves like the Battle of Earth. You operated on a scale similar to Spiderman until now. The Avengers were really just your first big corporate job.

“No, I recognise you,” he looks pointedly at Bucky, before narrowing his eyes. “You got no reason to be out here–”

A few years ago Bucky’s shoulders would have tensed immediately, already bracing for the inevitable Winter Soldier comment.

“Hey now,” you force a smile onto your face.

“--showing your face in public,” the guy continues, gearing up.

“Okay,” Bucky says, because he’s dealt with enough of public vitriol to really have it faze him anymore.

You prepare to take a step in front of him, body stiff. “Now let’s not get–”

��After breaking her heart like that? Shame on you.”

Bucky blinks. You also blink, steps halting.

“I’m sorry, whose heart?” he asks, looking between you and the guy.

The guy snaps his fingers. "You're the one on that show. Love Island, aren’t ya?”

Bucky’s entire soul exits his body.

He blinks. Once. Twice.

He processes the words and does not fucking understand them.

The guy nods, like he’s just cracked a case. “Yeah. My girlfriend fucking hates you, bro.”

Bucky opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.

You, on the other hand, look like this is the greatest single living moment of your life. “Oh my god, Barnes.”

Bucky looks to the sky for help. None arrives.

“What the fuck is a Love Island?”

The guy crosses his arms. “Deny it all you want, man. But we all saw what you did to Lulu.”

“I was literally a prisoner of war for seventy years.”

“And yet,” you say, eyes twinkling with evil delight, “you still had time to emotionally devastate a woman named Lulu on national television.”

Bucky turns to you, betrayed. “Who the fuck is Lulu?”

The guy shakes his head in disappointment. “Shame on you, man.”

You clap the guy on the shoulder. “You’re so right– what’s your name? Troy? You’re so right, Troy. Bucky here thinks just because he has a pretty face and a rockin’ bod, he can break hearts without consequences.”

“What the fuck is a Love Island?” Bucky asks in despair.

“Ashamed of what gave you your fame?” You click your roof to the top of your mouth. “People would do anything for the opportunity to be shirtless on a beach for three months–”

“Someone tell me what the fuck a Love Island is.” Bucky drags a palm across his face.

“It’s not you? Oh.” Troy deflates, glancing at you instead. “Are you the one from Love Island then?”

“I wish.” You pull your lips into a straight line. “Some people just aren’t grateful for the chance they’re given.”

“Oh wait. I recognise you, you're from that ghost show.” He brightens up again, wagging his finger at you. “My niece loves you.”

You nudge Bucky in excitement at the news, as if you hadn’t induced fifteen years worth of self-hatred into him twenty seconds ago. “Tell your niece she's got great taste.”

He nods briefly. “So, what are you doing here?”

“We heard this is the fastest-growing paranormal group in the city. Just wanted to check it out.”

The guy perks up immediately. “Oh yeah! The Ghost’s energy is real strong tonight. Dennis said he’s been slamming Monster Energy all day, so the vibes are there, man.”

Bucky’s expression does not change. “Who is Dennis?”

“Our medium.”

You nod sagely. “Of course.”

“He’s got a newsletter. You wanna subscribe?”

“Gee, I sure do,” Bucky says dryly.

You elbow him. “We wanted to join the club first.”

“Alright,” he chirps. “I’m sure Dennis won't mind. Meeting starts in ten minutes. You can grab your cloaks by the door and head on in.”

Bucky stops. “Cloaks?”

“Yeah, it's imperative to the Ghost that we dress the same.”

“Absolutely fucking–”

“Don't worry about him, he's only upset that he didn't get to bring his own cloak,” you interject immediately. “It came free with his coffin and some sunscreen.”

Bucky steps on your foot. You give him a small kick.

“Alright, well, you can have ours. It’s usually five bucks each but I’ll let it slide if you sign something for my niece,” Troy says. “If you're filming, please keep the flash off.”

“You got it, boss,” you salute.

The guy shrugs. “Meeting starts in ten. You can drink from the chalice and head on in.”

Bucky immediately locks onto that second part. “The what?”

The guy pulls out a black goblet filled with dark red liquid.

Bucky immediately takes a step back.

The guy holds it out. “It’s the Ghost’s essence. Dennis prepares it before every meeting.”

Bucky and you stare at it.

You lean in, sniffing inconspicuously. “What ingredients are in the Ghost’s… essence?”

The guy shrugs. “Dunno. Dennis just goes into a room, talks to the Ghost for a bit, and comes back with this. It’s different every time.”

Bucky’s stare is flat. “Oh yeah. That’s normal.”

“Here, try.”

Bucky does not move. “I’m allergic.”

“To what?”

“Yes.”

The guy frowns. “You haven’t even tasted it–”

“I’m allergic,” Bucky repeats. “Real bad. Death and everything.”

You nod solemnly. “I already had some.”

The guy blinks. “You did?”

“Yep, just couldn't help myself. Found some around here and I felt the Ghost really call to me.” You beam rather convincingly.

“I think it’s calling to you again, you should try some more,” Bucky tells you.

“Nope. Had plenty. Gotta save some for the others,” you say loudly, kicking his foot again. “It was great, though. Ghost tastes great– I mean, got great taste.”

“Well in that case, here’s your cloak and you can head on in,” he smiles at you before turning to Bucky. “You’ll have to pay, though.”

Bucky’s face scrunches. “I’m in the fuckin’ show too.”

“So you are from Lo–”

“I was not on Love Island,” he declares definitely.

“Right,” he drags, like he doesn’t quite believe him. “Five bucks.”

Bucky stares at him. Troy smiles right back.

Bucky grumbles, relenting as he reaches out into his pocket to shell out five dollars.

Bucky had taken the mandatory black cloak with all the enthusiasm of someone being handed a parking ticket.

You, on the other hand, are already swirling yours around your shoulders like you’re about to perform a monologue.

“Personally, I’m not too fond of the silhouette, but it’s fine for a last-minute fit, I guess.” You adjust the hood, pulling it low over your eyes before striking a pose. “Do you think I look cute?”

Bucky blinks. He wasn’t expecting the question. His brain short-circuits almost immediately.

You tilt your head, waiting.

He cannot figure out what to say, so he simply lets out a grunt. It’s extremely embarrassing.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Bucky makes a face.

Instead, he moves to something else entirely. Flips his cloak over his shoulders, tying it into a perfect, military-precise knot in two seconds flat.

You raise an eyebrow. “Well, that was fast.”

“It’s a knot. Not rocket science.”

You step in closer, reaching out to tug lightly at the strings of his cloak. “Did you go full Boy Scout at some point? Or was that just, like, a super useful skill in your assassin era?”

Bucky does not move. “Are you done?”

You grin. “Nope. I like being all up in your space. You’re even hotter up close.”

He immediately steps back.

“Coward.”

“Don’t want you ruining my knot.” Bucky tugs it tighter, then glares down at your very haphazardly tied cloak. “Jesus. That’s a disaster.”

"I was going for a more casual look."

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Give it.”

“Oh, so now you want to touch me?”

Bucky freezes for half a second, until you laugh and then it turns into a half-hearted glare.

Then, without reacting, he reaches out and untangles your mess of a knot with infuriating ease.

You watch him carefully as he ties it. He’s surprisingly gentle, fingers working quickly.

“You’re being very careful.”

“You’ll find a way to strangle yourself otherwise.”

“Is this your version of caring?”

Bucky ignores you.

“Oh, it is.”

“Just– shut up. Five minutes. I’ll pay you.”

Bucky steps back, hands off. The knot is perfect. He gives it a quick tug to test it, then nods.

You stare at him.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” You grin, pulling the hood over your head. “I just think it’s adorable that you want me to live.”

Bucky mutters something unintelligible under his breath and gestures toward the meeting hall. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

The room is set up like a middle school talent show.

Rows of metal chairs, some folding, some clearly stolen from a diner, all arranged in a rows in front of a small, elevated stage. The stage itself is haphazardly draped with black fabric, trying to give the illusion of magic but mostly looking like a supermarket Halloween clearance aisle.

There is, for some fucking reason, a fog machine in the corner, already hissing out an unnecessary amount of smoke. The whole room smells faintly of lavender essential oils and burnt plastic.

"I gotta say, I expected more," you hum, adjusting your cloak as you scan the room.

“Like what?”

You shrug. “I dunno. Maybe some candles? You’d think they’d at least have, like, a bowl of blood or something.”

Bucky side-eyes you. “Not everything has to fuckin’ theatrical all the time. Just ‘cause you’re floating around 23 hours of the day, scaring the shit out of everyone.”

You grin. “Oh, so you do think my theatrics are effective.”

Bucky realizes his mistake immediately. “That is not what I said.”

"No, no, I heard it," you smirk, nudging his shoulder as you lean in slightly. "You're saying that my supernatural entrance at your window was extremely well-executed."

Bucky glares at you. “I am saying nothing.”

"You're saying I have a flair for the dramatic. That my execution is flawless. That you—"

Bucky reaches over and yanks your hood over your face.

"Mmph—" You flail immediately, dragging it back. "Rude."

Bucky hides a smile to himself but doesn’t say anything.

You narrow your eyes. “You know, you should consider a little showmanship yourself.”

"No."

"I mean, look at you," you gesture vaguely at him, ignoring him. "You've got the sexy ex-assassin, current caveman aesthetic locked down. I’m imagining a trench coat. Maybe a few monologues in the rain. You’d be unstoppable.”

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. “What do I have to do to get you to shut up?”

“Put your tulips on my tulips–”

He gets up and moves one seat over, away from you and the heat blossoming on his face.

You follow right behind him with a grin, satisfied.

Mercifully, something your attention is drawn to the people entering the room before you notice his face flushing.

The crowd is a mix of true believers and people who are clearly just here for the novelty of it. Some attendees look fully committed, hoods drawn, faces solemn. Others are whispering and pulling out their phones, probably posting about this on some platform.

You, however, are too busy fiddling with your cloak.

"This fabric is trash," you mutter, pulling at it. "What is this, polyester? It’s so staticky."

"That’s the real issue here," Bucky mutters.

"It is when I keep getting shocked," you say, rubbing your wrist where the fabric clings.

Bucky watches you for half a second too long when you tug at it with annoyance, brows pulled together.

Maybe he should’ve been honest earlier when you asked how he thought you looked.

Instead, he clears his throat and looks away.

More people take seats.

The atmosphere changes suddenly when a man in his late thirties walks up to the podium.

He wears a deep purple cloak, slightly different from the ones given at the door. His hair is combed neatly back, his expression calm and composed.

He raises a hand. The murmurs in the room die down almost immediately.

You lean toward Bucky slightly. "Okay, so we have our medium."

Bucky doesn’t respond, but his jaw shifts slightly.

The man smiles. "Welcome, seekers of truth."

A few people nod reverently.

Bucky leans toward you. "You owe me five bucks."

"What?"

"I bet you earlier that he was going to say ‘seekers of truth’ within the first two minutes."

You peer at him. "I don't remember making that bet."

“We absolutely did.”

“You’re just trying to get back the five bucks you spent on the cloak.”

On stage, Dennis continues.

"Tonight is special," he says smoothly. "The Ghost’s energy is stronger than ever."

A few people murmur in agreement.

Bucky leans in again. "If I start screaming, do you think they'll kick me out?"

"Fuck around and find out, babygirl."

Instead of responding, he reaches over and yanks the knot he had tied securely for you loose.

You glare at it. Then at him.

"If you wanted to take my clothes off, you could have just asked," you whisper. “At least buy me dinner first.”

"I hate you."

"You don't."

"I’ve never hated anyone more."

"You don't," you say, tapping his knee lightly. "You like my company, even if it causes you physical pain. That’s why it sucks even worse for you."

Bucky makes a sound that is a little too like a growl.

The speaker, oblivious, raises his hands again.

Then, with a slow, practiced movement, he turns back toward the stage.

The room settles. The tension shifts.

Bucky doesn’t like it.

Not because it’s weird, exactly– he’s been in weirder places. But because he knows a performance when he sees one.

Dennis moves deliberately. Every step, every gesture, designed for impact.

And then, in a voice as smooth as a radio host’s, he speaks.

"The Ghost moves among us tonight," he says, pacing slowly across the stage. "I felt it earlier. A shift in the air. A whisper."

Bucky leans toward you.

"Did the Ghost also tell him to crank the fog machine to maximum?"

You bite back a grin. "It adds ambiance."

"It adds a fucking fire hazard."

You both glance toward the corner of the room, where the mist machine continues pumping out thick, curling fog.

It’s a lot, and smells faintly chemical and like no fog Bucky has ever smelt before. It spills along the floor, reaching all the way to the back row of seats.

Dennis stops, tilting his head.

"The energy here is special," he murmurs. "Do you feel it?"

A few people murmur in agreement.

Bucky does not murmur.

Instead, he tunes in, watching the room, the way people react. Watching the way Dennis pauses just long enough to let silence work in his favour.

It's polished. Which means it’s bullshit.

You’re half-listening, half-scanning the room. Not just in the way you usually soak in information, but in a subtler way. Like you’re looking for something.

Bucky notices. He wonders if he should ask.

Dennis closes his eyes briefly, as if receiving a message.

"Some of you are new," he says suddenly, his voice shifting slightly. "Some of you have never been here before. You’ve been drawn here. Led here. Perhaps by curiosity, or fate, or something deeper. Whatever the reason, you are here now."

And then Dennis gestures to the audience.

A few nods in the audience. Someone exhales softly, like they’re already halfway into a trance.

Dennis begins to pace. Slow, measured steps, his fingers twitching slightly as if he’s channeling something.

"The spirit has whispered to me once again." His voice lowers. "I have seen visions."

A murmur spreads through the audience.

Dennis stops. Closes his eyes for effect.

"Dark visions. Visions of the Great Ghost of Nickasta’s past."

Dennis opens his eyes, gaze sweeping the room. "Tonight, we will consult with– is someone filming?"

Every head snaps around, straight toward you and Bucky.

Bucky doesn’t move.

You blink. Then, very slowly, you look down at the camera in your hands.

“Uh, yeah. Hi.” You raise your hand slightly, like a student in class. “We're new. The Graveyard Shift here to witness the—”

You dig around in your pocket, pulling out a folded-up flyer, squinting at it in the dark.

"—transformative power of communicating with ghosts."

You fold it back up and look at him expectantly.

Dennis’ smile tightens. "Recording is not encouraged."

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

Dennis stares at him. With just a touch too much hesitation, he says “It disturbs the Ghost from reaching full power.”

Bucky’s head cranes.

"Keep that thing on," he tells you as if you had any plans of shutting it off, before raising his voice. "Why not? Don't you wanna get your message out there? Help people?"

Dennis' clasped hands remain tight.

"It is not my message," he says smoothly. "It is the Ghost’s. I am merely a vessel."

Bucky’s lips press together. "Great. Free publicity for the Ghost."

"Yeah, we're doing pretty well on YouTube," you add, twirling the camera slightly in your hands. "Could be doing better on Instagram, but this guy refuses to go live."

Bucky glares. “It’s not gonna happen. Let it go.”

Dennis’ jaw tightens slightly. His gaze does another quick sweep of the room.

Then, finally–

"No." He plasters on a tight smile. "You may continue. But know this—some things cannot be captured by a device so primitive as a camera."

"I’ll take that risk." Bucky leans back in his chair, smug, before adding under his breath to you, "He’s definitely scamming."

You snort. "Give him a chance."

"I gave him five bucks."

"And you got a very hot cloak out of it, which your shoulders look incredible in."

Bucky glares ahead.

"What visions were you having?" someone in the crowd shouts, following it up with a strange laugh.

Bucky’s eyebrows pull together.

Dennis claps his hands together, a smooth pivot away from the interruption.

"Ah, yes, the visions!" he announces, voice swelling with importance. "The Ghost has revealed to me a story of great suffering! Of betrayal! Of a spirit trapped! A mighty beast who could not be contained!"

A few people in the crowd gasp, others burst into tiny giggles. Bucky wonders if others were here for the shits and laughs too.

"How big?" someone in the crowd shouts.

Dennis' eyes light up. He lifts his arms wide, stretching as far as he can.

"He was... huge!" he exclaims, pacing the stage, cloak billowing slightly behind him. "Larger than life itself! And he was trapped, my friends."

A few people gasp softly.

Dennis cries out, "Trapped in chains by the very people who claimed to ‘love’ him!"

Bucky’s face remains blank.

"His mighty beast was strong, yes, but he was misunderstood. He wanted to be free, to live among the people in peace. But no! They took him, they made him fight, and then they... they trapped him!"

Dennis throws himself against the table, inhaling deeply like he’s just been hit by divine revelation. "They made him climb a tall tower!"

He wonders if it actually hurt the guy, all the throwing himself around that he was doing.

"They paraded him for all to see, mocking him!"

Bucky's eyes close briefly, as if in pain. "Okay."

Mist grows stronger around the room, almost like he’s stuck in a room with a bunch of vapers.

His nose scrunches up immediately, eyes stinging lightly as he blinks.

“What the hell is that smell,” he blows the air in front of him.

“Chemical, with undernotes of sweetness,” you note. “Is that what the Ghost smells like or is it a creative interpretation?”

“It's gonna give me a migraine.”

“Breathe through your mouth, then,” you say, raising the camera up and zooming into Dennis doing… whatever.

Bucky just shrugs the stupid cloak off his shoulders and ties it around his face in a makeshift balaclava.

“I feel it,” Dennis announces, throwing his hands in the air. “It is here.”

“What is?” the crowd cries.

“My migraine,” Bucky answers.

You shove at his knee with yours.

Someone stumbles to their feet. “The beast... the spirit... it’s... it's all so beautiful!”

People around him burst into giggles.

“I can feel it, it’s... inside me!” someone in the front laughs loud enough to drown out the music.

“Yes! Yes! The Ghost is in all of you!” Dennis shouts, pointing. “We are all like the beast, misunderstood and bound by chains, but we must rise above it all—

“I am rising,” the same cloak guy from earlier chuckles, knocking the chair behind him to the ground as he stands up. “I see the Ghost.”

“Oh,” you comment, looking around to see everyone with their hands up in the air.

Bucky's arms stay firmly crossed over his chest as he sits slumped in his miserable little chair, staring at the crowd around him around him.

“Everyone's doing something,” you observe through all the loud laughter.

“I can see that,” he says, noticing that your knee continues to brush against his after you shoved at him before coming to a rest. His throat constricts in a way that makes talking a little more difficult.

He pulls the stupid cloth tighter around his face because whatever the smell was, it clearly was giving him a physical reaction.

“I’m having FOMO.”

“By all means, do not let them make you feel that way,” Bucky grumbles, in what he thought was a tone dropping with sarcasm.

“You're right,” you say, dumping the camera on him before standing up with your hands in the air.

Great. Now he was responsible for this thing too.

“They tried to tear him down from his tower,” Dennis shouts.

“Who?” you shout back like it’s a fucking improv show.

“The Witch! The righteous witch, walking along her path of gold!”

“What?” you stop immediately. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It’s the pink lady from Wizard of Oz,” Bucky says casually.

You turn to him, eyebrow raised.

“His great beast is King Kong. Tower, beast, misunderstood, made to fight,” Bucky replies. “Nick and Asta are characters from The Thin Man.”

You lean toward him. "What?"

“He’s bastardizing movies from the 20s.”

You squint toward Dennis, who is still in full Shakespearan mode.

"Can you feel the injustice, my children?" Dennis exclaims. "Can you see the Ghost at work?"

You grin. "Are you telling me you sat through movies in the ‘20s?"

"I was alive in the ‘20s, what the fuck else was I supposed to do?"

Dennis continues, "We are all on a journey, a journey just like those travelers in the great dust storm– oh yes, yes, the spirit shows me! We must keep pushing forward, even when the sand storm rages!"

Bucky grimaces immediately. "Grapes of Wrath."

"What?"

"Saw it when it was released. Thought it was boring as fuck."

You try to stifle a laugh. "You look so young, sometimes I forget you were childhood friends with Adam and Eve."

Bucky glares at you.

Dennis throws his arms out. "Another! Another in the room with us! This mechanical Titan with a heart of gold! They saw him as just a machine, but no, no! He was so much more! The spirit showed me! He was a reflection of the true power within us all—"

"Metropolis," he mutters. “Thea von Harbou's novel."

“Bucky, you fucking nerd.” You tap his shoulder, grinning. “Look at you, busting scams and quoting movies made during the dawn of time. Do you know how hot you are?”

“What?”

“I said, are you single? I’m asking for a friend.”

“Uh huh,” he replies, when the mist pumps into the room.

“I’m the friend.”

“Got that,” he replies, focusing on literally anything else.

Dennis continues without missing a beat. "But wait! Not all of you have followed the spirit’s true path!"

The room goes quiet. Dennis' eyes scan the crowd before he points suddenly.

"You! Yes, you!"

For a second, Bucky thinks he’s pointing at him.

"You betrayed the spirit, didn’t you? You–"

You poke Bucky. "Did you betray the spirit?"

"Only when I felt like it," he mutters.

However, the man in the row ahead of you suddenly lets out a panicked noise.

"I– I needed to go to the bathroom so bad!" he cries. "The line to the club was so long, and the bouncers weren’t letting anyone in, so I just cut ahead–"

Dennis gasps. A few others in the room let out soft, horrified whispers, as if the man had committed a felony.

"No!" Dennis shouts, pointing like he’s passing divine judgment.

The poor guy visibly withers in his seat.

"You have broken the trust of the divine!" Dennis booms. "You must atone!"

The man trembles. "W-what should I do?"

Bucky mutters under his breath. "Is everyone here on drugs?"

Dennis softens slightly, his voice taking on a careful, patronizing tone.

"The spirit demands retribution," he says. "But the Ghost is merciful. And today, so very generous. For a small donation, you will have the chance to cleanse yourself from the darkness."

Bucky watches the guy scramble for his wallet. "Is he selling forgiveness?"

The man hands over thirty bucks.

"This is literally how the Church split,” he mumbles.

You suppress a laugh. "Did it affect your Sunday plans?"

Bucky shoots you a dry look. "I was born in 1917. The Church split four hundred years before that."

"Oh, right." You nod seriously. "I just assumed you were there when Martin Luther nailed his stuff to the door."

Bucky exhales, pressing the heel of his palm into his temples.

The fog thickens.

Dennis' voice rises. "Everyone quiet! The Ghost is speaking!"

You turn to Bucky. "The Ghost is speaking, Buck."

Bucky groans. "You mean till now he’s been freestyling?"

Dennis throws his hands up toward the ceiling. "I feel it! It is here!"

Bucky’s nose twitches. The smell is stronger now, almost becoming hard to see through–

A split second later, you both realize.

Your eyes widen. "Is that–?"

"Nitrous oxide," Bucky confirms, standing up.

"Pumping laughing gas into the room, are you fucking kidding me?" you curse. “We need to air this place out.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Bucky turns sharply, scanning the room. He watches as shoulders slump, as people laugh for no reason. A guy near the front sways slightly, blinking like he’s forgotten where he is.

Someone else lets out a dazed giggle.

Bucky’s focus zeroes in on the mist machine, still hissing. There are small metal canisters stacked neatly beside it, refilling the room.

Bucky crosses the room in four steps.

Dennis barely has time to turn and register the movement before Bucky grabs one of the small pressurized canisters, gripping it in one hand.

"Hey! What are you—"

Bucky doesn’t answer, instead throwing it straight through the window.

The glass explodes outward, scattering onto the pavement outside.

A rush of cold air floods in.

The sound shocks the room, pulling some people out of their haze. Others are still too fogged up to react.

Dennis' face twists in outrage. "What the fuck?!”

"Show’s over," he mutters, chucking the second one too.

It slams into the glass and tumbles outside, hissing as it empties into the night.

Dennis looks like he might actually explode. "You’re ruining–"

"You can talk to the great Ghost through your one phone call in jail," Bucky interrupts, brushing glass off his sleeve.

Dennis lets out a furious noise, grabbing the stupid silver chalice from the table beside him and hurls it directly at Bucky’s head.

Bucky barely tilts his head to the side but finds that there’s really no need.

The chalice stops midair. Hangs there. Slowly floats back to the table, settling back into place.

Dennis' rage turns into something closer to panic.

"Let’s not get pissy now," you remark, voice syrupy sweet.

"Fuck you," Dennis snarls.

And then, in an act of desperation, he grabs a knife from the altar.

It’s cheap plastic. It’s definitely a prop. This guy was fuckin’ nuts.

Still, he lifts it like he’s going to lunge at Bucky.

Except his own cloak yanks tight around his arms.

Dennis lets out a choked sound as it wraps, pulling his limbs against his sides.

The curtain behind him rips off its hooks, swirling around him.

In seconds, he’s bound to the chair behind him, like some kind of villain in a medieval play.

The room stares.

You smile, pleasantly.

"Enough," you say, voice cooler than it should be.

Dennis glares daggers at you.

Bucky glances at you, mouth twitching slightly.

Only then do you notice silence has fallen.

You look at the crowd, only to find them watching you.

Someone in the back lets out a horrified whisper.

"The spirit is here."

The crowd erupts.

"Where?" you ask, genuinely confused.

"The Ghost!" someone screams. "It's you!"

You blink. "Oh, me?"

They nod fervently.

A few drop to their knees.

You process this for a moment. Then grin like you just won the lottery.

"Oh, right. Yeah. Of course it’s me." You lift your arms slightly. "Hey, y’all."

The crowd gasps.

“Guide us.”

Bucky groans. "Some fuckin’ role model you’ve got there."

You pretend not to hear him. Instead, you do what you’ve seen Wanda do a million times, even though it really did nothing for you.

You lift your hands slightly. Let your feet rise just a little off the floor.

The room erupts in gasps.

"Fuck’s sake," Bucky mutters, dropping his head into his hands.

You clear your throat. "Yes, it is I. Spirit of Stick Blasta."

"Nickasta," Bucky corrects.

"Nickasta," you confirm. "I have traveled a long time to be here."

"Twenty minutes."

"Twenty millennia."

Bucky watches as you fake-peek through your half-closed eyes.

"I have some wisdom to share," you announce.

The crowd leans forward.

Bucky leans back.

"First!" you bellow. "Do not listen to anyone who stands on stage and says they've got a spirit moving through them. They're lying."

"But you’re doing that," Bucky heckles.

"Except me. I’m legit," you add quickly.

Bucky watches as you subtly flip him off with one of your raised hands.

"Second!" you continue. "Do not pay people for forgiveness."

You pause. "Unless that person’s name is Prosecutor and you’re bored of how long the case is being—"

"Next one," Bucky interrupts loudly.

You wave a hand dismissively.

"Third…" You falter. "I don’t know. Does anyone have suggestions?"

The crowd stares.

Bucky facepalms.

"Right. No suggestions." You clap your hands together. "Meeting adjourned."

The room is silent.

Then, someone whispers, "What… what do we do now?”

You land lightly on the floor again, brushing nonexistent dust off your cloak.

"For realsies, though, I suggest you get any money you paid this guy back. And then sue him into oblivion.”

Dennis makes furious muffled noises from under the curtain still binding him.

You glance at him.

With zero effort, Dennis gets dragged backward, vanishing backstage.

The crowd stares.

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Everyone out," Bucky orders.

The crowd obeys instantly.

Still dazed, still giggling from the leftover gas, they shuffle toward the exits.

Bucky looks at you. "Are you fine?"

You ignore him.

Instead, you call after the crowd, "And call someone to pick you up!"

They nod vaguely.

"I already called the paramedics, they'll be here in a minute!" you shout. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Bucky’s expression tightens.

"Are you fine?" he repeats.

You wave it off. "Oh yeah. It takes way more substances to get me high. All this was covered under the Leviathan Weapon of Mass Destruction starter kit. What about you?"

"Me too." Bucky shrugs. After a pause, he clears his throat. "You didn’t have to tie him up."

"He was annoying,” you say flippantly.

"I wasn’t actually in danger."

"I know."

"It was probably grape juice."

"I know."

"I didn’t need help."

"I know."

Bucky narrows his eyes at you. "What’s your play here?"

"My play?" You scoff. "I know this emo lone wolf thing is something you’ve been cultivating carefully for years, but sometimes, people can do things for you and have it not be a play."

Bucky stares. "Like what?"

"Like-- I don’t know– trying to protect you even if you don’t need it." You turn on your heel, hopping down from the stage. "Or like checking to see if you’re still breathing when you’re lying face down on the table."

Bucky does not respond, feeling his fingers get all fidgety.

“C’mon,” you tell him, halfway out the door. “We’ve got some explaining to do.”

He clears his throat, rolls his shoulders back and starts behind you.

“We’ve got all the footage. So that should be good." You turn to eye him. "But you know what’ll really help our case? You keeping that cloak on.”

Bucky groans, yanking at the fabric that hung across his neck like a bath towel. "I’m gonna set this thing on fire."

"You won’t. You are the cloak now.""

"I will."

“You’re still wearing it. I think you actually like it.”

Bucky grinds his teeth. "I’m leaving."

"In the cloak?"

"Shut up."

"I think it makes you look distinguished."

Bucky storms toward the exit.

You follow, grinning the whole way.

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #unsolved fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you

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fancyfeathers · 21 hours ago

Note

So I've seen a lot your story with Robin!Darling and Villain!Batboys, it's pretty interesting but how about Bruce? Can we get some scenario about them and it doesn't need yandere or something(depends on you obv) but pure Platonic relationship between them, like Father-Daughter things

Yandere!Batboys as Villains with Robin!Darlings AU Masterlist

YES! OH MY GOD YES! GIRL DAD BRUCE!!

So starting off since Dick’s darling was the first darling and her parents also murdered, she was practically raised by Bruce, like if someone asks her…

“Oh ya, he’s my dad.”

Her parents were scientists who worked with him as Batman and who were friends of Bruce and were murdered in attempt to steal their research, Bruce came just in time to save their daughter but he was too late to save them. Now Bruce tried to find any family but she didn’t have any left and the last thing he was about to do is leave this little girl who was mourning her parents in the care of people she doesn’t even know, so he takes it upon himself to adopt her, besides if he didn’t do it Alfred would have.

He drops a lot of the playboy persona because she needs someone there for her, he understands that first hand after both of his own parents were killed in front of him as well. So now the media more portrays Bruce as the DILFY single parent he is, raising his friend’s daughter on his own and then soon enough she stops being just his late friend’s daughter and instead his daughter, he doesn’t know exactly when the change occurred, it could have been when he thought the manor was in danger and he raced back and everything was perfectly safe but the first thing he did was to go look for her and the moment he saw her he picks her up in a hug and holds her close, or when he is woken up to her crying across the halls and immediately he runs and finds out she had a nightmare about her parents dying and she asks him to stay but her and he stay by her side until she wakes up, or maybe it was one of first days she was Robin and as if out of instinct he picks her up by the scruff of her cape like a kitten or pulls her under his cape in order to hide her…

He just knows when she called him dad for the first time when she was nearly falling asleep during patrol it just felt right.

Bruce was friends with Harvey Dent before he became Two Face, so that means that he was like an uncle to Harvey’s daughters when they were growing up. While she was a good kid growing up, Jason’s darling had her problems, namely sneaking out which led her to end up being kidnapped and held for ransom from a few people who had a bone to pick with the district attorney. She very well would have ended up getting shot if it was not for Bruce coming in just in time to rescue her. But when the Batman is untying her and telling her that her father and the police should be outside any minute now-

“Uncle Bruce, I know it’s you, I’m not dumb you know.”

Sass was another one of her issues along with the ability to irritate any adult she meets until they give her exactly what she wants, and in this case that was to be the next Robin since it’s kinda obvious Dick’s darling moved on from the mantle and became Dove instead. At first Bruce refuses every time because her father would never forgive him if something happened to her, but eventually he so happens to see her taking on a guy half her size in a local gang that was harassing her friend that she was out with, and she won. So Bruce gives in and gives her a suit on the condition that she will tell her dad one day…

Eventually Jason’s darling graduates high school and Bruce is at the ceremony with Harvey’s family and Dick’s darling. Then a few months after graduation the accident happens to her father and Harvey becomes Two Face. Bruce takes in Jason’s darling and her little sister while they regroup, her little sister becoming his ward because he knows he will never be able to replace their father.

She is staying in Gotham and is gonna go to law school and become just like her dad, when he okay in the head he was one of her two greatest role models. But Jason’s darling is different, she gives up the mantle of Robin willing and becomes Phoenix and her main priority is to help young people her age to stay out of crime, but that back fries when she bites off more than she can chew one day and encounters the Joker. We all know what happened to Jason in the Arkham games, that’s what happened to her, except she was killed in the end.

Bruce remembers seeing the footage and knew he would have to be the one to tell her little sister and find Harvey and show him because even for who he is now, Harvey deserves to know what happened to his daughter.

Bruce was the one who had to give the eulogy at her funeral and he felt sick to his stomach during the whole thing, guilt eating him alive because he should have been there to save her but he wasn’t able to in the end. Yet he still has to look after her little sister because she has no one else now, he still has to be strong for her.

When Jason’s darling is brought back to life by Damian in a ploy to get information out of her, she feels just as guilty as Bruce does because she told the Heir of the Demon’s Head everything about her little sister, with no idea while she was gone that Tim’s darling had become Robin and then passed the mantle on to Damian’s darling, her little sister.

She eventually escapes by some miracle and eventually finds a phone to call Bruce, she is crying, she is scared and alone, worried that he’ll be mad at her for everything, but he is overwhelmed that she is alive that when he gets to her in person it’s the first time she has ever seen him cry.

Bruce meets Tim’s darling when his youngest ward comes home with her, she is an upperclassman but they have a few classes together. He is happy that she is able to make peace and not let the death of Jason’s darling pin her down for the rest of her life. Tim’s darling is a sweet girl that reminds Bruce way too much of his last Robin, especially when…

“You’re the Batman! Woah that’s so cool!”

“…Did you tell her?”

“No I did not, Uncle Bruce.”

It comes a normal occurrence for Tim’s darling just showing up at the manor randomly, Alfred making her hot chocolate while she sits at the kitchen counter while she complains about her parents never being home, both of them are doctors at Arkham Asylum that care more about their work than the daughter they had that is eating alone most nights. Her parents are never at anything, none of her art shows or choir performances, it’s just her standing alone while all the other kids having their parents and families with them and after words she has to take the city bus home, all alone…

But then Bruce hears her talking to Alfred about that in the kitchen one day and realizes if he was not there for Jason’s darling then he will make up for his mistakes with Tim’s darling. So at her spring art show and she is sitting alone at her display, only strangers giving her compliments on her art, not her friends on her family.

“Tell me about this one?”

Her ears immediately perk up and she looks up to see Bruce Wayne and Dick’s darling and Damian’s darling next to him. He gives her a bouquet of flowers and she just immediately breaks down crying, because no one has ever done anything like this for her.

Family dinners at the Wayne Manor now include Tim’s darling, she comes home with Damian’s darling after school and normally she leaves after dinner before Bruce goes on patrol but on a night where Bruce knows her parents aren’t going to be home he insists she stays at the manor, she was her own room now.

Eventually she even convinced Bruce to let her become Robin, well convinces, she saves his life when she drags his unconscious body out of an alley when she spotted him on her way home.

But then her parents finally finds out about her visits to Wayne Manor, not about her being Robin, and they are pissed because it is their child, Bruce just snaps when they call their daughter an it…

“You two may leave, my lawyers will be in contact and I will see you two in court.”

“Excuse me?”

“I am taking you to court on negligence charges, and trust me you will not win.”

And he was right, they were lucky that they didn’t loose their jobs at Arkham, but Bruce doesn’t really care. He just cares about the young lady and helping her feel more comfortable at her new home…

But that isn’t necessary because Wayne Manor is already her home.

Then there is Damian’s darling, the youngest in the bunch, even if she is sixteen when she moves to Wayne Manor with her big sister after her father became Two Face. Life has been hard on her, so she just needs to process one thing at a time, including the death of her big sister. Bruce does his best to be there for her and he just can’t help but be reminded of Dick’s darling when she was young, the way she crawls into his bed after patrols or when he finds her asleep in the Batcave, waiting for him to get back.

She is young and sometimes she just needs to be held.

But the worst experience in her recovery is when she accidentally finds the video of what happened to her sister when contacting Oracle on the Batcomupter when the comm lines where hacked and she just shuts down, can’t even move and can barely even breathe. So when Bruce comes back to the cave he just finds her in a completely state of shock, everyone does everything they can to snap her out of it but she is in complete shock for almost a week, it’s enough challenge to get her to eat or drink anything, let alone anything else.

But when she snaps out of it, she has had time to process a few things and she goes to Bruce and tells him something…

“I want to be Robin…”

Tim’s darling has left the mantle behind and became Strigidae, and she wants to pick up where her sister left off. But Bruce’s biggest condition is that she has to train with him for a year, no patrols or anything until the year is over, even if her training is almost over.

Tim is hard on her but in the way he needs to be, like a father with their child. He is patient with her and they will train for hours on end, doing the same thing over and over again and he will tell her what she did wrong so she learns how to do it right, but he is hard on her because he is not letting anything happen to her.

The first night she is out with him as Robin, picture how Dick Grayson was as Robin, specifically this comic and honestly her mischief as Robin brings such a smile to Bruce which is both unsettling to see on Batman and a refreshing thing for him…

But that happiness is over when they encountered Ra’s Al Ghul together. He wanted to yell at her to run and he feels just as terrified as he did when her big sister went missing. But without her he doesn’t know what would have happened because she throws a Batarang at the Demon’s Head’ hand just in time, the blade pinning his hand to the wall. When they get out of there, Bruce picks her up and holds her close because if something went wrong then she would have ended up dead and he can’t loose her too.

Then when her big sister comes back home, he doesn’t care what is going on in that moment, it means the world to see the sisters reunite, the happiest he has seen them in years.

But then when Damian encounters his darling and carves into her, Bruce amps everything up, no one patrols alone, three minute check ups on the comm lines with Oracle, if something happens they immediately report it, if some one gets hurt then they go to the Clocktower or the Batcave immediately.

They are a family and a family looks after each other.

Extra things:

The Batgirls are also good, so imagine sister nights with the darlings and Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Kate Kane (or Auntie Kate to Jason’s and Damian’s darlings), Helena Bertinelli, you get the idea. So all of them take over the movie theater in the house and have a girl’s night, locking Bruce, Duke, and Alfred out.

Duke is also good in this AU, I really can’t picture him as a villain, he is their baby brother who gets doted on by his big sisters all the time.

I love the idea of Bruce being on top of all his girl’s schedules, like as they are walking out of the door in the morning, Bruce is there handing each other them things like…

“You have ballet rehearsal today, make sure to break your shoes in.”

*hands Dick’s darling her new pointe shoes that arrived in the mail last night*

“Test today at 1:00, make sure to study chapters twenty and twenty one during your lunch study session.”

*hands Jason’s darling her law text book*

“Remember your gallery showing is at 7:00 tonight, I’ll be there at 6:30 to make sure you have everything set up-“

“Dad, I’ll be fine.”

“You left a can of paint out last time and you tripped five minutes before the doors opened and you were covered in green paint when people came in.”

*hands Tim’s darling a bag with a change of spare clothing*

“Your Auntie Kate is pick you up for your appointment with Dr. Thompkins after fifth period, okay?”

“Got it, Uncle Bruce.”

*hands Damian’s darling a note*

“What’s this?”

“A letter I wrote to Dr. Thompkins last night, telling her about what actually happened on patrol last night so you won’t minimize what happened like last time.”

“…fuck.”

“Kate also has a copy of it as well.”

#yandere dc headcanon #yandere dc x reader #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere dick grayson #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere tim drake x reader #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne x reader #yandere damian wayne

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theamarischapter · 2 days ago

Text

Conquering Cupid ➳❥

a/n: beomgyu isn't technically cupid exactly, but he's a love fairy! i wanted to write something for valentine's day and this idea came to me when i was, funnily enough, playing the dti (roblox) valentine's day quest LOL. also kinda inspired by royale high... anyway, hope you guys like it! i was literally fighting for my life to finish this semi-on time... happy valentines day! <3

pairing: fairy!beomgyu x fairy!reader

w/c: 4.3k

genre: fluff, fantasy au (a magic academy), one-shot, strangers/acquaintances to lovers, (past) heartbreak

warnings: beomgyu is a stubborn idiot, not proofread b/c im lazy

summary: the love fairy, a charming but mischievous boy, seems to avoid love at all costs, leading you on a mission to capture his heart and uncover the mystery. the closer you get, the more he pulls away—ironic, isn't it? a love fairy who "despises" love.

fic below the cut! enjoy <3

All love fairies take pride in who they are—to gift love is a magical and honorable responsibility. But one particular love fairy seems to disagree: Beomgyu.

Perhaps you’re overthinking it, but it’s hard to ignore the way he actively avoids love. He dodges affection like an arrow gone astray, charming yet distant, admired yet untouched. You, for example, have spent an embarrassing amount of time admiring from afar, which is how you’ve come to notice this odd behavior—the way he dodges using his spells and magic, steering clear of anything love-related.

But why?

Well, naturally, it’s now your duty to do the impossible—love the unlovable, and beat the love fairy at his own game.

✧༺🩷༻✧

Step 1: Befriend him

It should be a simple task, right? He’s already quite outgoing and friendly—easy to approach, easy to talk to. You’re sure he has plenty of friends, so what’s one more?

Besides, fate seems to be rooting for you. The dean—Mrs. Elderose—personally requested that you tutor the boy. It’s a perfect opening to get to know him and hang out alone, where he feels less pressured to uphold a facade of upbeat charm. The only problem? He’s already ten minutes late. Your leg bounces incessantly beneath the table, fingers idly fidgeting with the sleeve of your jacket. Your eyes periodically glance around the vast school library, where towering bookshelves line the walls and warm lights hang from the domed ceiling, illuminating the golden engravings on each book. Hushed voices blend with the gentle flutter of wings, barely audible beneath the whisper of a calm breeze, which reaches you through the slightly ajar window to your right. Carrying the crisp scent of pine, it drifts in from the endless woodland beyond. Your gaze lingers there, admiring the warm hues of the sunset sky as they color the landscape. Beomgyu still has yet to arrive.You should’ve known he’d skip. With a resigned sigh, your hands move to pack up the scattered pencils and notebooks you had out. Just as you’re haphazardly stuffing your bag with the first notebook, a teasing voice interrupts your thoughts.

“What’s the rush? Waiting for someone?” Beomgyu’s bright expression comes into view as you turn your head towards his voice. He’s smirking, one corner of his lips tilted upwards as his deep brown eyes, hidden behind light bangs, gleam with mischief. “Honestly, I wasn’t gonna show up—but Mrs. Elderose dragged me here after she saw me trying to leave.”

You offer a laugh, purely out of awkward pity. Honestly, you’re not that amused. He just told you to your face that he doesn’t want to be here. Then again, you can’t really blame him. If the dean forced you to get tutoring, you wouldn’t be very eager either.

“Well…I’m glad you made it.” You smile, and for a moment his expression falters. His smirk falls; he looks almost surprised by how earnest you sound. Subconsciously, he’d assumed you were as unwilling as he was to be here in the library. But it seems you feel the opposite way—you want to be around him. It shouldn’t be such a revolutionary idea—there are plenty of people who like having him around. So, what’s with the weird warmth spreading through his chest at your comment? Why is he happy that you want him around? He doesn’t even know you yet, but he feels drawn to you in a familiar, unreasonable way—one he refuses to acknowledge... He won’t hurt himself again.

“You shouldn’t be.” He mutters, huffing out a small laugh in an attempt to regain his composure. Usually, he has more control over himself, but his defenses seem to naturally crumble at your genuine compassion. With a quiet breath, he plops into the seat beside you, slouching. “I’m a waste of time.”

You frown, head tilting to the side. Beneath the layers of playfulness, you sense something genuine in his statement. “I disagree.” You say quietly, opening one of your notebooks. “I mean—I wouldn’t be here if that were true.”

“You’ll see soon. I have no intention of improving, anyway.” He replies, looking away from you. There’s a thoughtful expression on his face, his gaze captivated by the smooth, dark wooden table. You’re tempted to outright ask all of your questions, but refrain—there’s no rush.

Love requires patience.

✧༺🩷༻✧

Step 2: Carefully get closer; earn his trust

So far, you’ve barely scratched the surface. Just when you think you’ve made progress, he pulls away—always with a laugh, a joke to distract from any real emotion that leaked out. At the very least, he shows up to every tutoring session and occasionally says hello if he sees you in the halls. You’re friendly, but not quite friends. And he has no intention of changing that.

“You did it!” You exclaim cheerfully, standing beside him. The gentle breeze flows through your hair, bright strands of grass beneath your leather boots. The outdoors, naturally a suitable place to practice spells. You’ve been focusing on the basics with him—specifically levitation since it’s a simple but useful tool to have. Your eyes admire the pretty rose floating in front of him, its smooth petals matching the faint pink hue of his cheeks.

“It was luck,” he mutters. He frowns at the sight of his accomplishment, arms crossing as the rose drops to the floor—except, you never even taught him how to undo the spell, he just…did. Perhaps it was just something natural; he didn’t necessarily need your guidance for something as simple as that…right? You shouldn’t overthink it.

“Luck or not, it’s an improvement.” You smile, bending down to pick up the rose. A dumb idea comes to mind, but you don’t bother to stop it. Maybe if you’re straightforward he’ll be more willing to try and open up. You hold the rose to him, looking into his deep, sparkling eyes. “How about we celebrate? Are you hungry?”

His fingers brush yours as he takes the flower, the touch fleeting but warm. It lingers longer than it should, even as he quickly clears his throat, looking away from you. It takes him a second too long to find his words. “I…um, I don’t have money—“

“It’s okay! I can pay.” You reply enthusiastically, collecting your things. His lips part, but no words come out. Instead, he just stares, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. He doesn’t understand what you want, why you’re even here. He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it—he’s not allowed to run away this time. “C’mon, let’s go.”

When you stare at him expectantly with those big, pretty eyes, how could he decline? He’d hate to see disappointment in your gaze, so he nods mutely, diverting his attention to the flower cradled delicately between his fingers. Just this once, he’ll allow his heart to win.

✧༺🩷༻✧

You sit across from him in the school cafe, a dark wooden table between you. Warm light reflects down from the ceiling, casting soft shadows over his smooth, pale skin. His fingers trace his warm cup of cocoa absentmindedly, the warmth spreading through his fingertips.

“I’m proud of you, Beomgyu. I think you’ll do really well on our next evaluation.” Your voice is gentle, a sincere, soft smile on your lips—which he finds himself staring at. Get it together, Beomgyu. When he finally processes your words, he straightens his posture, ears heating up and wings fluttering—a telltale sign of his apprehension.

“Um, yeah. Me too.” He mumbles. What’s wrong with him? He’s normally so outgoing, but now the words are all tangling together in his mouth—even in his brain, it’s a jumbled, confusing mess. His heart stutters, a wild, erratic rhythm that refuses to settle. Each breath comes faster, shallower, like his body is betraying him. This isn’t normal. This isn’t fair. He hates this feeling—this infatuation, this longing. It never ends well. “I mean, I'll do better, at least.”

He laughs sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. He takes a deep breath, the rapid thumps of his heart calming. He manages to smile, fingers tapping restlessly against the table even as he huffs out a small laugh. “Maybe my charm will get me a few extra points.”

You scoff, chuckling and shaking your head. Your eyebrows furrow, and you lift your iced coffee to take a small sip. You hum in thought, leaning over the table, closer to him. “Have more confidence! Mrs. Elderose is keeping you here for a reason. There’s potential.”

He raises an eyebrow, rolling his eyes. His elbows rest on the table, head leaning on the palm of his hand as he feigns nonchalance. His gaze travels through the space, lingering on the warm cup of cocoa in front of him instead of you. “Tch, yeah—potential failure.”

“Are you saying I’m a bad teacher?” You joke, gaze carefully observing him. You’re searching beneath the surface, through the cracks of his carefully upheld persona. Behind every smile, every laugh, and every joke, is a quiet, insecure boy—at least, that’s what you’ve deduced thus far. There are always other reasons he may feel the need to downplay his talent.

“Wh—no! You’re great. But, like, I’m just saying…” He refutes quickly, his pale hair bouncing as he frantically shakes his head. He’s wide-eyed, a small pout forming on his lips, as if he’s upset you would accuse him of something so horrific. You’re not a bad teacher at all; you’re smart, patient, encouraging, pretty…um, wait, never mind that last one. The point is, he’s actually learned a lot from you, and he’d hate to make you feel bad.

“Right…saying what? That you hate me and you learned nothing?” You ask, teasing him further, even if only to see the flustered expression on his face. It’s also a good tactic for getting him to admit how he feels if he feels anything.

“Hey, that’s not fair! You’re putting words in my mouth!” He defends, almost whining, before huffing out a short breath. He crosses his arms over his chest, pretty eyes focused on you with a helpless plead to stop this defamation of his character!

“You didn’t deny it? Wow, I’m offended.” You continue, and he sits up straight, hands slamming onto the thick table. Heads turn, all eyes on you both for just a brief moment before the audience loses interest. His ears are a bright shade of pink, his wings twitching.

“Stop—“ He attempts to defend, but you’re quick to cut in. He can feel butterflies swirling around in his stomach, and he hates it. He hates you for making him feel this way.

“I mean, really, I thought we got along pretty well. But I guess I was wrong—“ You’re exaggerating, of course, faking a frown as you place a hand over your heart in offense. He’s had enough.

“I like you, okay?” His mouth moves faster than his brain, desperate to prove you wrong. For what reason? Because, well, he can’t stomach the thought of you not liking him, of you thinking he doesn’t like you. Once he realizes what he’s said, he freezes, wings twitching so violently behind him that the table shakes just a little. His hands clench into fists in an attempt to comfort himself. Stupid. That was so stupid. His heart beats rapidly against his ribcage, and the heat crawling up his neck makes it impossible to pretend he’s unaffected.

“Geez,” he mutters, slouching, arms crossing over his chest. “Can’t a guy be self-deprecating every once in a while?” His voice is quieter now, more grumbled than spoken. He fixes his gaze on the untouched cup of cocoa in front of him as he contemplates his life choices. He risks a glance at you, just for a second. You’re smiling. It’s small, just a slight curve of your lips, but paired with the faint pink hue on your cheeks, it’s enough to make his chest squeeze uncomfortably tight.

“N-Not like that!” He blurts, practically whining as he sits up. His wings flutter again—another traitorous giveaway. He swears under his breath. “You know what I meant.”

“Do I?” You tilt your head, feigning innocence, though there’s a teasing glint in your eyes. He likes you. Your smile widens at the thought, meanwhile, his pout deepens. He looks cute like that, you think. Maybe you don’t mind upsetting him every once in a while.

✧༺🩷༻✧

Evaluation day arrives fast. Too fast.

You should be excited—it’s your moment to prove yourself again and make your parents proud. And you are, sort of. But your focus keeps drifting to Beomgyu. He stands a few feet away, looking awfully comfortable. Too comfortable for someone who’s flunked every evaluation before this. He sighs, stretching his arms lazily as if he couldn’t care less about any of this. Everyone else is shifting anxiously in place, wings twitching, fingers fidgeting with their sleeves. Chatter fills the arena, students laughing and joking about how screwed they might be. Your gaze catches his, and for a moment, there’s something, a small glimmer in his eyes—regret. It’s gone in an instant, replaced by his usual, careless smile and a small nod as you part ways.

The results are posted the next day. Your name is at the top where it always is, but it’s his name that catches your eye. Your stomach knots when you find it. Choi Beomgyu. Dead last. Again. It makes no sense. You trained for hours and rewarded his immense improvement. He should’ve passed—or, at the very least, passed any of the subjects with a grade higher than a D. But this…? Your hands tighten at your sides, your heart sinking into your stomach. There’s only one explanation; he’s been failing all of these things on purpose. The realization hits you like a wave of cold air, stealing the breath from your lungs. You should’ve known. He literally warned you that he was a “waste of time.” He told you he had “no intention of improving.” You just didn’t believe him—you figured he was just insecure. But now, staring at his name at the very bottom of the list, you’re left with only one question: Why?

You manage to speak to a friend of his: Kang Taehyun, a reserved but kind classmate of yours. You catch him as he’s heading to the dormitory.

“I need to talk to you.” You say, getting straight to the point.

He frowns, barely reacting to your statement. “About?”

“Beomgyu. He’s been failing on purpose, right?” You reply. He sighs, taking a step back and crossing his arms. He doesn’t look all too impressed, in fact, he looks tired of the conversation already. It’s not that he’s mean, he just cares about Beomgyu a lot.

“If you already know, then why are you asking me?” He asks, gaze scrutinizing you, searching for any hint of malicious intent in your posture, expression, or tone.

“Well, I just don’t get why. But, I figured you would know.” He hums in thought, head tilting to the side, expression still unchanging.

“And why do you need to know?”

Your mouth opens, then closes—you hadn’t thought that far. Somehow, you figured he might just come out and tell you, for some reason. You thought he’d sense your earnest desire to help. Instead, it almost feels like you’re on trial, as if he’s searching for any reason to withhold the information from you.

“I want to help.” You finally say. He’s still staring at you, waiting for something more. “Please.”

He hesitates, mulling it over. There’s a hint of reluctance in his gaze, but it’s not because of you. It’s because of Beomgyu. He knows his friend, and he knows that he’s never going to explain himself. He won’t stop being stubborn, and his self-sabotage is going to get him expelled sooner or later. Taehyun exhales, nodding slowly.

✧༺🩷༻✧

The story goes something like this:

Beomgyu was young when he fell in love for the first time—with a girl named Arielle. From the moment he first met her, the feelings surged all at once, like an unrelenting tide swallowing him whole She had an aura that attracted people effortlessly—someone you wanted to be around, hold onto and never let go of.

She was a natural beauty, her long, sleek hair framing her round, delicate features. Her wide eyes shimmered with warmth, as if she constantly saw the best in everyone. When her eyes fell on him, the world quieted. Beomgyu could breathe. He could exist without effort, without overthinking. Her gaze alone felt like the sun shining down on him. But the deeper he fell, the more suffocating it became—it felt as though he’d been trapped in a self-imposed prison. Someone as great as her, as perfect as her, could never be with someone like him. And sure, he’s a love fairy—he could have used magic to draw her closer. But Beomgyu was stubborn. He wanted love to come naturally. He craved authentic attraction—and, magic was never his strong suit, anyway. So he waited.

He became her shadow, her anchor. He caught her when she stumbled, offered his heart with both hands—without hesitation, without expecting anything in return. And she took, and took, and took, but never gave. Of course, it’s not like she owed him anything—he did everything willingly, but it still hurt. He devoted himself to her, promised to wait until she was ready, but she couldn’t return the favor. Even as a friend, she couldn’t lend him an ear nor comfort him on his shortcomings. She couldn’t make time for him, couldn’t lend a helping hand. Beomgyu eventually got fed up and finally stood up for himself—and that’s when she crushed everything to pieces.

She took his heart from his chest, cradled it in her delicate hands, and then trampled it. She turned his fantasy of love into a nightmare, showed him how cruel it could be. To her, he was nothing but a tool to be used. She never really wanted him—no, she wanted someone to fuel her craving for love and attention. And when she got bored? He wasn’t useful anymore, so she discarded him like a piece of trash, told him he was “a waste of time,” even though she was the one who’d failed the relationship.

He hasn’t been the same since. Love became a distorted concept, a reminder of his inadequacy. He hated himself for who he was, who he failed to be. His trust was taken and demolished, so now he hides. He hides from himself, from everything that reminds him of her—everything related to love. He’s a love fairy who’s afraid to love, unable to trust.

And, most importantly, he imposes failure on himself because he doesn’t want to be here. He wants to hide forever, wants to forget that who he is—a love fairy—is what he hates. And yet, in the quiet corners of his mind, he still feels her warmth, like an old scar that never fully fades.

✧༺🩷 ༻✧

Beomgyu has been a ghost in your life. He’s carefully kept his distance, looking the other way when you’re near, taking the scenic route to class just to avoid crossing shadows. He ignores the pull in his heart, the tightness in his chest that threatens to consume him. The feelings come uninvited—fluttering in his stomach, warmth creeping up his neck, his heart stuttering out of rhythm. And then, just as quickly, the fear swallows him whole. Each sensation is followed by swift dread, nausea, and guilt. He tells himself he shouldn’t feel this way, that he has no right to. But deep down, he knows the truth: he’s just afraid. His heart pounds against his ribcage, breaths quickening at even the thought of surrendering his heart once more. He can’t. He won’t. In the end, the only one he trusts with his heart is himself.

You manage to corner him with the help of Taehyun, who brings him along to the school garden. You sit on the edge of the marble fountain, tracing your fingers along the cool surface. The clear water glistens in the warmth of the sun, birds chirping in the distance as the bushes rustle in the cool breeze. If you focus, you can hear faint footsteps, coming from nearby within the maze of flowers and greenery. A movement catches your eye. From between two towering bushes, Beomgyu steps into view, his presence sending a ripple through the stillness. Taehyun, who’s close behind him, gives a nod of encouragement before nudging Beomgyu toward you.

Your eyes connect and time stops. His light hair brushes across his face, confusion and apprehension flickering across his face as his eyebrows draw together. His lips part wordlessly, chest rising and falling rapidly with each quick, shallow breath. He’s suffocating once more, his lungs straining against an invisible force. His chest tightens, each heartbeat sharp and unrelenting. He stumbles back, fingers searching for something solid, something real. But nothing feels real—not the warmth of the sun, not the garden around him, not even himself. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready to face his feelings so head-on.

“Beomgyu, can we talk?” Your voice pierces the silence, gentle but unwavering. He flinches, his gaze darting anywhere but you, as if doing so will make you disappear. You press onward, calming your own rapid heartbeat. You just need to connect, reach deeper into his fragile heart. “I- I know why you’re…afraid. Why you won’t use your magic.”

You risk a step forward, holding a flower to him. His eyes flicker with suspicion, scanning your expression like a wary animal expecting a trap. He’s looking for deception, for cruelty, for any sign that history is repeating itself. But all he finds is sincerity. He lifts a hand, feet dragging quietly against the stone path. He steals another glance at you—you have the same, patient expression, encouraging him to continue. His hand hovers over the flower, hanging there for a few moments. There’s a lump in his throat, an invisible barrier that prevents him from moving forward. His fingers brush yours, and he pulls his hand back, as though the touch burned. His hand falls limp at his side, chest heaving with a shaky exhale.

“Beomgyu.” You say gently, afraid to scare him away. It’s a miracle he’s still standing in front of you, at least willing to listen. His gaze finds yours, urging you to continue. “You, of all people, should know how precious love is.”

His eyes burn, chest tight and lungs burning. He manages to speak. “It’s not precious. It never ends well—everyone always gets hurt. I’ve seen it.”

Which, is admittedly true. It’s only natural that a love fairy would have seen the most love, and thus the most heartbreak, too. He’s seen the beauty and the raw, ugly flaws. But he focuses on the bad because it’s what has affected him most profoundly.

“Doesn’t that make it more precious?” You reply, risking a small step closer. “If everyone had it, it wouldn’t be special anymore.”

Tears pool in his eyes, a few spilling over as his bottom lip trembles. He’s showing you his heart now, no longer suppressing the emotions clashing together in his chest. Gently, you take his hand, and he squeezes, lacing his fingers between yours.

“Heartbreak is not a downside to love, it is a representation of love. To have loved fully is to grieve deeply. People love—and continue to love—despite knowing the risks. Because love is a gift to yourself and the people around you.” You cup his face gently with your other hand, swiping away the hot tears streaming down his face. He says nothing and everything at the same time. His gaze holds an indecipherable appreciation—perhaps, an admiration of how beautiful you are physically and emotionally.

“I really, really like you. So give me a chance to love you, Beomgyu. I’ll give you my heart, so long as you trust me with yours in return.” You whisper. He nods, sniffling quietly as he stares into your gentle, caring gaze. The emotions consume him without permission, a surge of warmth flowing through his chest, heat creeping onto his cheeks.

“I- um, I mean…I like you. Too—a lot.” He mumbles, still struggling to express himself confidently. He squeezes your hand, thumb running absentmindedly over your smooth skin. “I mean, I have for a while I just- well, it wasn’t supposed to come out like that—”

Your lips are on his before he can even recognize what’s happening. When he does, his brain stutters, his body locks up, breath hitching. His mind blanks—static where there should be panic. Idiot, what is he doing? You’re pulling away before he gets a chance to explore this new, exciting feeling. His free hand finds your hip, pulling you closer and kissing you again, allowing himself to melt into it this time. Time comes to a stop, as if it’s just you two. Your lips are soft, careful not to overwhelm him. His brain is quiet for once, the space filled the whisper of a quiet breeze. How could he have deprived himself of this for so long?

Slowly, hesitantly, he pulls back, resting his forehead against yours. His wings flutter eagerly, like a puppy’s tail after receiving a treat. He brings both arms around you, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt to make sure you’re real. His cheeks are impossibly pink, face burning as he hides it in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you. I’m sorry for being an idiot.” He mumbles. You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head and pressing your cheek to his silky hair.

“It’s okay, it made it more interesting.” You whisper. He breathes out an amused huff, his grip around you tightening imperceptibly—as if to claim you.

Looks like you’ve won this round. The love fairy who feared love—who ran from it, who buried his own heart—has given his heart to you. Your fallen cupid wasn’t unlovable after all. He just needed the right person to believe in him.

a/n: okay so i was supposed to release this ON valentine’s day but im a lil late…um, anyways! i got this idea and thought it would be cute, i hope you all liked it!! and dw im still working on my other fic for those wondering, i just wanted to do smt special for valentine’s day (even if i stressed myself out trying to finish this 💀). comments, likes, and reblogs greatly appreciated!! xoxo

#beomgyu fic #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu #choi beomgyu x reader #txt fluff #txt fanfic #theamarischapter #kpop fanfic #happy valentine's day #fantasy au #fairy au

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nobodysavemysoulitsperfectlyfine · 3 days ago

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Incorrect Percy Jackson Quotes as things my friends and I have said except I literally forgot the context.

Percy Jackson: "No. I will eat him. Swallow him whole. Shove him down my gullet. You underestimate how much I need him seasoned, battered, baked or fried."

Annabeth Chase: "No, the stupidest thing I've ever heard is anything Jk Rowling ever said."

Jason Grace: (screaming at the top of his lungs) "WHO EVEN IS JEMIMAH THE CONQUEROR??"

Leo Valdez: (breaking out into song whenever the room is quiet)

Piper Mclean: (In front of literal police) "It's because I stole it."

Frank Zhang: (Standing in front of a very wealthy house in the middle of the poorest county in the state) "What? I'm not rich."

Hazel Levesque: (Relentlessly being bullied for looking like a horse girl)

Nico Di Angelo: "I know it's midnight and we don't live here, but I really want to go out in the woods right now."

Will Sollace: "How could there possibly be THIS many things wrong with you?? What the hell?"

Chris Rodriguez: (Spamming calls and texts) "HOW COME EVERY TIME I TAKE COUGH MEDICINE I HAVE VIVID NIGHTMARES OF BEING IN FUCKING LEAGUE OF LEGENDS. I DON'T WANT THEM."

Octavian: "No, I'm really manipulative. It's gotten to a point where I don't even notice, but you guys should keep that in mind."

Reyna Avila Ramirez Allerano: (Aiming nerf guns stolen from a group of rotten kids) "JUSTICE!!"

Dakota: (Taking a drink of literally anything carbonated and visibly twitching uncomfortably) "Ew." (Drinking again) "Ew. Disgusting." (Drinking it again)

Mr. D: "Would you please STOP MAKING BABIES IF YOU DON'T WANT TO RAISE THEM."

Lester Papadopoulos: "How is it that every time a thunderstorm rolls around I have a psychotic break? Like, I have a feeling that's not just anxiety."

Meg Mcaffery: "I always thought Unicorns would be fatter."

Luke Castellan: "Guys, do you think I have bad morals?" (everyone saying yes in unison)

Alex Fierro: (Only ever using hoe as a pronoun when talking about someone to their face)

Magnus Chase: (Being forced to eat an orange peel covered in salt after saying he was bored while other people watched and recorded him gag)

Austin Lake:(Playing Sailor Song every moment he gets the chance)

Rachel Dare: "You know there's a Greek word for that? That describes exactly what you are?"

Georgina: "Right Now my Mom's waiting outside for and I quote "Biker Bitch". It's like a fairy tale."

Rhea: "I genuinely, and wholeheartedly believe that MOST of the world's problems would be solved if all men got a decent pegging. Every world leader, politician, everyone." (Continues to debate this perfectly for twenty minutes)

Ethan Nakumara: "Guys do your parents have nemisisees?"

Litreysis: "My entire face hates me."

Blitzen: "By Peach do you mean fruit or ass?"

Hearth: (Signing slurs in public to his boyfriend while smiling kindly)

Commodus: (Harassing the guy dressed up as Santa by repeatedly smacking his fake stomach and calling his ass a bowl full of jelly)

Thomas Jefferson Junior: "You're only a whore mentally."

Mallory Keen: (Prank calling some poor woman and screaming random scottish as loud as possible)

Marcus: "I'm gonna boil one of them alive and make the other watch."

Samirah Al Abbas: (frowning in response to seeing her friend's scores on the empathy test)

Arrow of Dodona: "Probably cause I am in the woods. They thought I got lost."

Ella The Harpy: (Rewrighting Heather's as a Biden x Trump musical with other world leaders as the Heathers)

I'm tired maybe I'll do more tomorrow or never

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flowersdiceandlove · 1 day ago

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On Xie Lian and crossdressing:

Something that I really like and find endlessly funny about tgcf and Xie Lian is that our guy disguised himself as a woman not once, not twice, but three different times.

Like, the first time on Mount Yujun, you think, oh…yeah, I guess he doesn’t have any choice. This ghost is only after brides after all and their reasoning makes sense. It is a little questionable about why the “junior officials” immediately looked at Xie Lian when wondering where to find a guy who would dress up as a girl for them, but it moved on quickly so don’t think a whole lot on it. Plus he's the protagonist, so of course he's gonna be the one in the middle of the action.

Then, the second time, it’s again to catch a ghost. This ghost is only after pregnant women, so Xie Lian makes his little charm to trick the ghost into thinking he’s pregnant and dons women’s robes once more.

The third time, though, that's the time that does it. There was a Lot going on, so it took me a while to realize it, but... Xie Lian knew the exact angle to position himself in to hide the broadness of his shoulders and make himself look like a young woman in that dressing room. He knew how to drape the robe over himself--very quickly I must add--and how to even account for Hua Cheng's presence with him as well. He knew how to hold his hair up. He even knew how to scream like a startled and scandalized woman being barged in on. This guy has had practice. He has to have. Heaven's Eye's surprise could account for it if not for the fact that the novel then states how good Xie Lian's disguise is with him knowing how to angle his body and such. He had to have used this trick to get out of trouble over the centuries many times to be able to pull it off so quickly and without effort.

I then thought back on it and realized that Xie Lian only seems to have a problem with crossdressing when other people propose it and others are involved.

On Mount Yujun every time someone new saw him like that, he made sure to let them know it was only for the mission. And then, when he realized he was still in the bridal outfit when he spoke with Pei Xiu, he worried. And, how did "Nan Feng" comfort him about that fact? By telling him that Pei Xiu wouldn't tell anyone. That he could dress ten times weirder and he still wouldn't say anything. Why do I mention Nan Feng's words? Because he's actually Feng Xin and has been Xie Lian's bodyguard since they were young. And, in Xianle didn't they like androgyny? Xie Lian's outfit in the parade was meant to have representation of both male and female in it (like the earrings). This makes me think that this isn't the first time Xie Lian's crossdressed (for a mission or otherwise) and both Feng Xin and Mu Qing were aware of this. This is why when wondering where they could find a man to pretend to be a bride, they immediately looked at Xie Lian. Their reactions to actually seeing him crossdressing make me believe they've never actually seen it before and when he did it back in the Xianle era, he'd always wonder off on his own in the middle of the mission and investigation without telling them, do it, and only catch the two up after the fact.

Reason even more as to why Xie Lian being the first choice out of the three to be the bride doesn't add up when you look back is that gods can change their gender with spiritual energy. Shapeshifting is a known and established thing in the Heavenly Capital. The two most famous examples being Shi Qingxuan and Ling Wen. By the fact that both Feng Xin and Mu Qing are there in disguises proves that they both know how to shape shift to at least some degree. They may not be as good as Shi Qingxuan as looking like a woman, but they'd at least get the overall shape right. (It is funny that Fu Yao's the one to say Xie Lian should go see if any Heavenly Official would be willing to teach him transformation magic. like the guy isn't using that magic right now to play the part of a junior official. and like Xie Lian actually has the spiritual energy to pull off a transformation right now with his cursed shackles.)

Then, when Shi Qingxuan proposes they genderbend together in their investigation, Xie Lian declines. He then second guesses the actual gender of the person accompanying Shi Qingxuan the last time they met and is relieved he managed to deflect Shi Qingxuan's attempts to get him to genderbend. Like, the guy just doesn't want people finding out about it. He'll pull on the robes and don the disguise, but just doesn't want it getting back to people. For someone who's grown to not care about rumors and talk about himself, this has always stood out to me. Like, why draw the line here?

For the time that he pretends to be a pregnant woman, that time is pretty breezed past in the novel. Even when Hua Cheng shows up, Xie Lian is freaking out more over the fact that they just kissed than his robes. The citizens of Ghost City even think that he's a woman when they see him. It seems like Hua Cheng is the exception(as he is with many things) to who Xie Lian's fine with seeing him crossdress. They don't really talk about the bride thing, and Xie Lian only gets embarrassed about calling Hua Cheng the groom and not about his own appearance at the time.

Then, the third time, he's once more fine with Hua Cheng seeing him like that, and even continues to run around in women's robes for some time after that.

...pretty sure post canon that Hua Cheng is getting dresses for Xie Lian to wear around Paradise Manor when he wants to. Probably started getting them after the initial bride thing and only got more when he saw Xie Lian do it more.

You also can't tell me that over the 800 years that Xie Lian walked the Mortal Realm that he wore only men's robes the entire time. With his luck, it would be just in line for all his robes to get destroyed or lost one way or another and the only option available when he tries to replace them is women's robes. He'd sigh, think Just my luck and take them, wear them until they're threadbare and can't be worn anymore because despite them being women's robes, he paid for these and he won't stop using something until he really can't anymore(and then upcycle it because that's just What He Does. literally. he ascended for that.)

#tgcf #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #xie lian #tgcf headcanon #tgcf meta #do with this what you will #xianle trio

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throatgoat4u · 2 days ago

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hello, hello, hello, hello to all my lovely people out there. i wanna start of by saying happy valentines to every single one of you. whether you're single, in a relationship, or have just broken up, i hope you all enjoy this amazing day of love and share it with their loved ones.

today's not just about a romantic partner, but to people who you just love. tell your family how much you love and appreciate them for all they've done for you and if that's not an option, share your gratitude with your friends or people who have constantly been there for you and have made you feel loved.

do something kind for someone. give them a hug, write them a letter, compliment them, whatever. you don't have to make some big gesture or go all out, just let someone know you appreciate them.

but most importantly, make sure you love yourself. self love is just as, if not more, important than anything else. how are you supposed to put in your time and effort in loving someone else if you can't do that for yourself? so whether you want to go out and spoil yourself or stay in and take a nice bath and watch movies, make sure you're putting your love for yourself first.

but, loving yourself isn't just about spa days and self care (but like that shit's like amazing so like i definitely recommend a nice everything shower if you're not doing anything today.....) it's also about speaking to yourself kindly, forgiving yourself for past mistakes, and acknowledging that you deserve just as much love as everyone else on this amazing day!

now, that being said, i'm gonna spread all my love to some of the most amazing people on this app! (this is where my formality ends, trust 🤞)

@onevison. i literally love you so much omg. you are one of the nicest people ever and you're actually so creative with your aus. i love talking to you and always enjoy when we chat. i love you!

@freshloveee. you're so so so good at writing and genuinely one of my favorite writers on this app. you're honestly so sweet and kind. i love you!

@chrepsi. you're genuinely one of the funniest people on this app, i cannot. i love your vibe and your music taste is just so ugh. you're so cool. i love you!

@muwapsturniolo. so you're literally amazing?!?! like you're so gorgeous and funny and such an amazing writer. idek how many times i've reread your shit but it's too many to count. anywho..... when's the next album coming out sza????? i love you!

@leoslaboratory. i just binge read your fics last night btw. you're fucking amazing and i love everything you do. dealer!chris is amazing and i absolutely love it. your fics for black history month are eating btw. i love you!

@phone4pills. so so so cool. you're theme is so cool, you're fics are so cool, you are so cool. i'm genuinely sooo happy anytime i've seen that you've posted a new fic or something and am always looking forward to when you write more. i love you!

@mattscoquette. you're just sooooo like awesome. i love everything you write and i love scrolling through watching you answer asks cause you're so funny. i'm still heartbroken over a change of heart (and the fact that you've ruined that song for me 💔). also like petition to bring back my man perv!matt. he doesn't get the love he deserve. anyways, when i was lurking here, i would always stalk your page and you were the first person i found on sturniolo tumblr. you were genuinely such an inspiration for me and one of the biggest reasons i started posting what i write. i love you!

@thenickgirl. you're my favorite nick girl out there. i love how you write for him and give him the attention he absolutely deserves. just cause he's gay doesn't mean we should leave him out guys 😞💔. you're such an amazing writer and you're so funny. i love you!

@t0riiiis. you're literally like so relatable and i feel like i can always talk to you without getting bored. you're there for me and you've shown your love for me countless times and i cannot even begin to say how much it means to me. i love you!

@oopsiedaisydeer. i'm sooo happy that we're like friends now because you're such a nice and cool person. you're an amazing writer and i love when i see updates on your ponyo au. you're so sweet and show me so much support on literally everything. i love you!

@bernardsbendystraws. dare i say that you're the mother of sturniolo tumblr?!?! you're genuinely such and amazing and funny person and make the tumblr fandom a much better place. i love how during that whole pedo scandal, you were there for absolutely every single person and were so helpful in the whole ordeal. you aren't scared of what anyone says about you and you're so confident, it's so admirable (this also goes for @muwapsturniolo, cause if i recall correctly she called her workplace or something like that which is honestly a boss ass move). your writing is also just amazing and never disappoints. you're like a breath of fresh air (that sounded better in my head but it's okay). i love you!

and i've saved the best for last, @snoopychris. idek what to say. like i'm being serious. i love you so much and you're my absolute favorite person on here. i love being able to talk to you everyday and ik you'll be there to listen without judgement. you're so funny (and a bit odd) and i love you for it. you're genuinely like a big sister to me in a way and i just feel like talking to you makes my day. whether it's about an au or just yapping (or saying some weird shit about chris) it always makes my day just so much better. i literally trust you soooo much even if we’ve only known each other for a short time. like when i say i trust you, i mean like i TRUST you. atp, i trust you enough to know what my face looks like, my actual name, and other personal info. like genuinely i feel so comfortable talking to you and you never fail to make me happy! you're such a fun person and so creative. also you're writing?!?! i literally love it. i love you 🧠!

obviously there are so many other people who i absolutely love, adore, and cherish with my whole heart, but these people stick out to me! anyways, i love you guys so much and am so thankful for everyone's constant support. i'm so happy with all the new friends i've made on this app and am looking forward to making many many many more! with lots of love...

toodles sluts :)

(i felt it was necessary to bring back sluts for this post...)

also the fact that i actually wrote that shit at the top from my heart impresses me….. like what?!?!

also one last note, if there’s some misspelled words or i’m just repeating myself like an idiot, please note that its still early and even tho i woke up over an hour ago, im still like half asleep

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ throatgoat4u #.𖥔 ݁ ˖ nini talks #.𖥔 ݁ ˖ nini yaps #i love you guys so much and i wanna give ya'll the biggest hugs and kisses and deliver loaves of bread to your guys' houses

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pages-and-1nk · 3 days ago

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PLEASE IF YOURE A JILY OR JEGULUS SHIPPER READ THIS BECAUSE IT HAS TO FUCKING STOP U GUYS.

I’m done with the ridiculous conversation on Jily shippers harassing Jegulus shippers. (And vice versa, this one just covers Jily hate on Jegulus) Please read my breakdown response to the most common argument presented as to why Jegulus is bad.

🙏 PLEASE 🙏 .

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Oh okay jumping RIGHT into it. *Deep breath*

No. No it’s actually not. As a gay trans man, your take is incorrect and actually so fucking wild it astounds me you think that way. To break it down MISOGYNY is the hatred or prejudice against women. Someone taking two male characters- even if one has a canon gf- and shipping them together does not in anyway promote misogyny nor the erasure of the gf. Infact, implying that in order for Lily to be important or developed she has to date James is actually, ironically, misogynistic.

Now is that to say all jegulus shippers ARENT misogynist or have such views? NO, ofc there are bad apples everywhere- doesn’t mean the whole bag is spoiled. Misogyny is not preferring a gay pairing to a cannon heterosexual pairing. Thats frankly a stupid argument and you’re just attaching words with negative connotations to a ship you don’t like, to then make your ship seem more morally righteous and superior and discredit anyone who argues with you by labeling them as misogynistic. (That does more harm then good btw as it discredits and devalues actual misogyny in fan spaces)

As for fetishization, also not inherently. People enjoying a masc and a twink together is not fetishization inherently. Now, it’s a thin line to walk, and in order to do that you must have critical thinking and be able to understand THESE FAKE GAY MEN are not ALL REAL GAY MEN, but it being the dynamic of a ship you like is… not fetishization. Obsessing and harassing REAL gay men and being invested in their sexuality and sexual experiences is fetishization. Please understand the weight of the words you are using, and how throwing them around in such a context not only makes you look like a buffoon but also is wildly undermining to the weight those words hold.

Smh.

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Gonna go cry myself to sleep now brb.

But SERIOUSLY? Implying that Regulus is watered down to “James’ twink” tells me you have never actually engaged with Jegulus shippers before and have made broad assumptions about a ship you’ve never even given a chance.

Crimson rivers, choices, art heist baby, only the brave, teach them how to dream, whatever happened to the young young lovers, I COULD GO ON. All of them have well rounded character designs for Regulus- but because you can’t take your head out of your ass and are too focused on how bad of a ship Jegulus is, you’ll never read them!

(Which valid, you don’t have to like Jegulus Jily shippers, in fact- you can loath it as much as you want, but you can’t talk about characterization when you’ve uh… never actually read the characterization)

And those last few sentences? Oh man. James cheating on Lily is like SUCH A SMALL fraction of fanfic/works, such a small fraction. Unless you imply that James could stake a claim to Lily before Lily even agrees to them dating which uh… *cough cough*…. I smell misogyny again… *cough cough.*

Like bsffr rn. 😐

————————

Oh god I think I threw up in my mouth hold on-

First- yes. Jily is an amazing ship that can be wholesome and lovely, and is such a beautifully tragic form of love I will ALWAYS respect it and the people who ship it. Me personally, I don’t read fanfic with Jily, but I def engage with Jily related content bcs it’s GOOD.

But you see, people like you simply ruin it for those who are Jegulus shippers and want to Drabble in Jily because you are TOXIC.

No one is reducing Lily to a baby maker for Jegulus. In fact, I’ve seen more fics with TRANS REGULUS GETTING PREGNANT than I have with surrogate Lily. And even in the surrogate Lily fics, it’s usually well written and Lily has a personality beyond “baby maker” and is just a friend consensually agreeing to help a queer couple out with having a child.

There’s also fics where they co-parent Harry, and if that’s what you’re talking about AGAIN that’s literally normal. I’m a child of divorce, my parents co parent- that’s just how bloody divorce works it isn’t misogynist.

As for the canonical death eater bit- please tell me which part of the canon text refers to regulus being a blood purist. He joined Voldemort, correct, he also rebelled against Voldemort- correct. All of the reasons for him doing both of those things are ASSUMPTIONS MADE BY INFERENCES FROM A BIASED PERSPECTIVE.

Obviously you can have your own preferences on what regulus was like, as can I, because CANNON INFORMATION is LIMITED. Therefore, you can do what you want.

And even if it wasn’t you could still, do what you want BECAUSE ITS FICTIONAL.

Please, I am begging you, for my sanity and your own, just stop. All of it needs to stop. You get no where by tearing another ship down, it won’t stop and you just leave a bad taste in the mouths of people who want to ship Jily but are Jegulus shippers.

This applies to both sides BY THE WAY, Jegulus shippers have a problem with inserting themselves in Jily spaces, or within other ships, or feeling the need to comment on ships with Regulus or James in them and say things like “Jegulus is better” or “ew that’s so weird” (I saw this in particular with kittywater) We all need to realize that unless we just stick in our lanes and fuck off, we’re going to continue promoting toxicity in this fandom.

I love Jily, I love Jegulus, IM PROOF WE CAN LIVE IN HARMONY JUST KNOCK IT OFF, PULL YOUR PANTS UP, AND GROW TF UP!

Anyways thanks for coming to my ted talk, I’m really upset over this post and I just needed to rant. Please reblog this so it reaches more people.

(Also I have not tagged the creator of this post, because I don’t want harassment to befall them. Signed- the author)

#marauders #jily #Jegulus #ship whoever tf you want just be civil #marauders fandom #marauders era #regulus black #lily evans #James potter #dead gay wizards from the 70s #sigh

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yimpysdiner · 2 days ago

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Ridiculously long analysis of Jimmy's dialogue (PART 2)

PART 1 HERE Continuing with the next section,

Mimicking?

The whole ordeal of Jimmy copying Curly's "yeah?" in speech has already been pointed out, but there's something else I wanted to look into. This section is gonna be relatively short but this interaction still sticks with me. It's fairly easy to miss as you can brush it off but given Jimmy often repeats words or phrases from those around him I find it interesting.

This interaction was so awkward that it has me thinking about it over and over so honestly this may be one big nothing burger and more so headcanon territory but hear me out.

Jimmy gets quiet here as either 1, he expects them all to die on that ship as he said before crashing it or 2, he's terrified of any sort of attention their whole ordeal may get if they survive. The awkward silence is only filled by him commenting on ladies. Daisuke is no stranger to talking about "beach babes" and as Swansea puts it, "thinking with his downstairs long-nose." Honestly, Jimmy is a scumbag and gross around women, but I don't think this is the sort of situation where he cares to be impressing any ladies. This reads to me as him trying to "fit in" with Daisuke in a way. The way he often mimics people and says things they'd relate to defuse situations and get on their good sides feels like a form of masking. I'm no professional, no idea what in specific this would be, but Jimmy strikes me as the kind of guy who finds it really difficult to positively navigate a lot of social situations, especially if he feels uneasy like he was here. This parts super rambly sorry, this is just something interesting about him to me, how he'll latch on to other people's personality traits and mirror them.

Lashing out

We all already know Jimmy's not a very stable guy, very small things irritate him, he has levels to his anger however.

His base line irritation is just little remarks like this, things that you would scratch your head at but they're small so you can't quite bring them up. It's not completely aggressive, but it's definitely not very friendly either

I won't shove all the same screenshots of him lashing out during the birthday party here, but there he only lashes out in front of everyone else when he's able to make it seem like he's in the right. He insults everyone to their faces, but he's able to pin all the blame on Curly, letting out his anger while also in some sort of way getting people on his "side." Here he's *already* sewing seeds of doubt about Curly into the other's mind, so his little plan to blame Curly for the crash later on only works out all the more in his favor.

Then there's moments like when he's giving Curly his pills. He isn't exactly yelling, more so going on with his angry, paranoid rambles. This of course is followed by the implication he beats Curly while feeding him his painkillers, physically taking out his anger on someone who can't fight back. Side note, the only times he ever gets physical is when they're in a position of being unable to fight back (drugging Swansea, the implied drugging of Anya, and of course when Curly is left defenseless.)

I believe this is the first instance of Jimmy actually full on yelling while having one of his tantrums, which is why I say his anger is written in levels. It's not all one flat base of him cussing like a sailor and screaming his head off, remembering this and *what* exactly makes him tick helps me when deciding how I should write him reacting to certain situations. There's other instances where he's clearly panicked and flustered, stuttering and rambling because of high stress situations such as when Daisuke is on the brink of death and it's all his fault, which we'll get to later.

Hopelessness

Something I noticed when going back through everything is Jimmy seems completely and utterly hopeless about everything in his life. It starts out in the cockpit scene, one of the very few times he's genuinely vulnerable.

This line initially just seems like Jimmy is some power tripping guy who likes being the right hand man to the Captain, which is entirely possible (and true, given how quick he is to assume the Captains role himself), but it leads me to suspect something else as well.

These are out of order, but I think like this is better demonstrates Jimmy has never really felt the sense of control over his life like he has until he got this gig with Curly. He feels comfortable like this, which is why Curly wanting to "throw it all away" in his eyes baffles him. I really wish the devs gave some insight to what Jimmy's life on Earth was, why *he* ran from it all to assume a position where he felt he was finally in the drivers seat.

When Jimmy is faced with the reality of what he's done, his first worry is when he gets back home, he'll be caged in the same position he was, back at square one with no control over his life, rotting in a prison. Even if he did get out, as he said, none of it will matter, not with an assault on his permanent record. Maybe he held onto hope that he and Curly would find something new to do, but because he made the choice to force himself on Anya, that'll never happen. His knee jerk reaction to that? Kill himself. Kill himself and take everyone down with him, because if he's not in control, he may as well be dead. "The Tulpar crew was never found."

Remorse

Jimmy isn't entirely uncaring for what he's done. He suffers delusions for each and every one of the people he fucked over, all except Anya. Instead, he sees visions of the child he created, the ever looming reminder of what he did, no matter how hard he tried to block out Anya from his mind, it will always, always haunt him. Him crying to Curly and pleading forgiveness from someone who can't properly give it to him anymore is already a sort of in your face scene, that and the scenes with the horse delusions.

I want to talk about Daisuke and Swansea actually, as he had a much more direct role in their ends. In his mind he can say, oh, Curly ran in and did that to himself, oh, Anya swallowed those pills and did that to herself. It's Daisuke and Swansea who show up more broadly as themselves in his delusions as he was the sole reason for their passing. As Daisuke is dying, he is incredibly distressed the entire time.

Daisuke being so prominent in his mind has always struck me as interesting, seeing him in the vent, a grave, in the graveyard, all the flowers, the real genuine panic when trying to fix what he did. He never wanted him to die, he obviously feels immense guilt in making him crawl through that vent.

As for Swansea, Swansea can read him like a book, and he lets Jimmy know exactly what he thinks of him before he's shot and killed. He appears in the graveyard with Jimmy, also leaving a lasting impact on Jimmy's psyche.

To say Jimmy feels nothing over what he's done, or that he wouldn't care about people dying or anything like that is wrong on so many levels when the entire last half of the game focuses on him having to literally fight his own demons. It all culminates into him saying he fixed everything, deluding himself into being a hero as some sort of final comfort to his broken mind before he offs himself, "saving" Curly after dismembering him as if that makes up for all his wrongdoings. Jimmy is so layered and interesting and human, and that's what makes him a fantastically written character. It's what allows you to see yourself in him and reflect, see those insecurities he harbors, those toxic traits he exhibits, every little ugly part of him meant to be a mirror to your own actions. Denying him his humanity and making him an emotionless, aggressive, constantly angry person strips him of everything he's meant to be.

Sorry for the huuuuge yapsesh, but I thought going over these would be fun, it also helps me keep my characterization of him as accurate as I can possibly make it. If you have any thoughts let me know!!! I am very very invested in him and I love to hear what others think of him, even if I may agree or disagree.

#mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing

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obsessedwithfictionalmen01 · 1 day ago

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Celestial Date

A/N: Hey there! It's been a long time since I've written anything!! This is a little idea I had a few days ago I hope you guys enjoy it and just remember English is not my first language so if there's any mistakes please let me know! 🩷

Pairing: Castiel x Fem!Reader (No use of Y/N)

Summary: Reader has a crush on Castiel and her brothers (Sam and Dean) know about it, more importantly they also know Castiel feels the same way, so they play a little match maker game by setting them up for a Valentine's Day dinner!

Warnings: none? i think?

Castiel stared at the state of the bunker, he didn't know how or why but someone had decorated it with heart balloons, heart shaped paper cuts on the walls, a heart shaped pie laid on the kitchen counter. Why so many hearts? He asked himself as he looked around the bunker. For sure this wasn't Deans’ idea, maybe Sam… but then he herd it, your small giggle echoing the hall. This had to be your idea.

“Hey, Cas! You like it?” You asked excitedly, holding pair of scissors and a pink colored paper.

Castiel stared at you for a few seconds confused, that's when it hit you. He didn't now about Valentine's Day. But he knew freaking cupid himself.

“It's Valentine's Day!” you said excitedly as you pointed at the heart shaped balloons around the room. Castiel followed your pointing finger and looked around.

“You do know that's not what hearts look like, right?” He asked with a small soft smile, he didn't mean it in a rude way, he was actually confused.

“I know! But this is much prettier than a real heart” You explained with a gentle tone looking at him, you didn't know why but everytime you stared into his eyes you swore you could get lost in them for hours, a pretty blue color and so many emotions packed in them.

Castiel on the other hand could listen to your voice for eternity, whenever you would start rambling about your newest hyper fixation Cas would be the only one listening, your brothers too used to it dissociated and just nodded. But not Cas, he would listen carefully watching your lips move and voice getting pitchier the more excited you got with the conversation. Like now.

“Valentine's Day is literally the best day of the year, it's the only day we truly celebrate love and friendship, there's hearts everywhere, people buying and receiving flowers… It’s so magical” You said with dreamy eyes as you looked at him.

“Do you like flowers?” He asked.

“Are you kidding? Who doesn't love flowers?”

“Well I understand why humans would find them beautiful but you know they are basically dead, right?”

You looked at him trying not to chuckle, you were amazed by his point of view of life, how he found everything so complex and rare. And he loved how you viewed life, you found beauty in the most simple and small things.

“I'm gonna go and get ready for tonight. Sam and Dean want all of us to have dinner tonight in a nice place near the bunker, they say they are doing it for me but I know they just want to have a drink later and maybe find a desperate girl in the bar” You said with a small grin before you turned around and walked towards your room “See you at dinner, Cas”.

Castiel watched you walk away, his heart skipping a beat when your head turned to look one last tie at him before entering your room. He decided to head into the kitchen where he found Dean and Sam eating a slice of the pie you made, he sat down next to them with a concerned look in his eyes.

“You are going to spoil your appetite for dinner” He said when both brothers looked at each other and then at him. “Oh we are not going out” Dean said with a small grin chuckling. “But I heard we were…” Castiel started before Sam cut him off “No, Dean and I aren't going”

“I don't understand” Castiel said, Dean looked at him and sighed, he stood up from the chair and walked towards him, his hands placed on his shoulders “A little birdie told us you may have a crush on our little sis” He said with a mocking tone “And another birdie told us that maybe our little sister also has a crush on you” Sam continued “So we thought… maybe it's time they both had a chance to have a date, and what better day than Valentine's Day? As you can see he loves it” Sam said with an amused smile.

“She… likes me?” Castiel asked, still shocked. His eyes stared into the table, he would have noticed, right?

“Just one thing…” Dean said before he pressed his angel blade against Castiel's back “One wrong move and I end you” He stated now in a more serious tone. Castiel only stared at Sam worried, this wasn't the first time he felt something like this for a human but this was her it wasn't just any human and of course Sam and Dean's sister which he already knew what it meant.

Castiel took a deep breath and when Dean put the blade away he looked at both brothers with a pleading look “What should I do?”

“Hey man, just be yourself. We know how much you care about her, you’ll be fine” Sam said with a small genuine smile. Castiel nodded and got up from his chair “Thank you” He said to them before he quickly disappeared. Both brothers looked at each other and laughed, they wished they could be there to witness this date.

A few hours later you were all dressed up waiting outside the restaurant for the boys and the angel, you looked at your phone when you felt a presence behind you, turning around quickly you were met with Castiel, he wasn't wearing his usual trench coat and suit. He was wearing a much nicer suit without his tie, the white shirt had a few buttons undone and the black suit jacket fitted his form perfectly. You couldn't help but look at him up and down your eyes taking in how handsome he looked, you were so distracted by it you didn't even notice the hand he was hiding behind his back.

“Hello” He said gently with a small smile, he was nervous but tried his best not to show it. “Hey, Cas. You look very handsome” You said feeling the heat rising up to your cheeks.

Now he was the one taking in your appearance, your outfit hugging the curves of your body perfectly, the color perfectly matching with your eyes which sparkled under the moonlight, Castiel could swear he was in Heaven again. His mouth opened but nothing came out, he was stuck. That's when he remembered the small gift he brought you, his hand finally sticking out holding a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Oh, Cas. You shouldn't have…” You said when you looked at the flowers, your eyebrows arching with a small pout, but a happy one almost endearing. “Well you said that you liked flowers and that that was something people did in Valentine’s Day so I thought…” You stopped him by standing on your tip toes and kissing his cheeks gently

“They're perfect, thank you” You said taking the flowers and smelling them briefly.

Castiel looked at you wondering how was it possible for such a simple creature to be as beautiful and sweet as you, he wondered what he had done to deserve you. His thoughts quickly pushed aside when you took his hand leading him inside the restaurant, you sat at your table placing the flowers on top of it when it hit you, the table was for two, not four. You frowned and looked at Castiel confused “Are the boys coming?”

Castiel looked at you briefly before his hand rubbed the back of his neck “No” He replied nervously, he didn't know how you would react when you found out about your brother's little scheme.

“They had this planned didn't they?” You asked rhetorically. He simply nodded with a shy smile.

“Well since they went through the trouble we should just enjoy, right?” you said with a small grin, the waitress appeared and you both ordered drinks and your food, you knew Cas didn't usually eat or drink but after he became a human he missed savoring food so he tried every now and then.

An hour passed and both of you were having a great evening, you talked about everything instantly connecting in a deeper and more intimate way, you felt your cheeks slightly turning red from the wine you had and Castiel looked more relaxed and happier than usual, he felt like he could listen to your voice for hours and not get tired.

Finally both of you decided to pay and have the last drink at the bunker, he took your hand gently and then walked with you through the streets at night, all restaurants filled with lovers celebrating this day you couldn't help but look subtly at them, which didn't go unnoticed by Castiel.

“You know, angels can feel love, we can fall in love and feel all kinds of emotions but humans… you take it to the next level, you live and love in such a special way. It amazes me” he said, looking at you with a small smile.

“I guess knowing your life has an ending makes everything more special” You replied, squeezing his hand gently. You both remained silent after that admiring the calm night when finally you reached the bunker.

You entered first looking around to see if your brothers were home but no one seemed to be there. You took Castiel’s hand and guided him inside, he sat on the couch while you looked for Dean’s whiskey bottle he hid from everyone. When you finally found it you poured it in two glasses and sat next to Cas on the couch, one of your legs on top of him as you handed him his drink.

“I had a really good time tonight” you said looking into his baby blue eyes, you wanted this night to never end. “Me too.” he replied, placing the glass on top of the table “Dean told me… that you liked me.”

You stared at Castiel blinking for a few seconds, feeling your cheeks turning even more red “That bitch” you replied “Cas, I know it must be weird for you, I don't expect nothing from this you don't have to feel pressured honestly I don't know why he would tell you that I simply…” Castiel kept listening to you when he noticed you rambling nervously he leaned in, finally kissing your lips. You stopped talking instantly and closed your eyes feeling his hand on your cheek gently caressing you, you could taste the whiskey on his lips. You wanted more so you placed your hands on his chest and deepened the kiss slipping your tongue between his lips. A small moan escaped Castiel’s mouth and he took your hips in his hands lifting you up and sitting you down on his lap.

“Is this Ok?” He asked breaking the kiss to look at you, worried you would change your mind. He had his hands now on your hips holding your body against him and your hands were unbuttoning his shirt very slowly “Yes, Cas. This is perfect” you said before attacking his lips again. You both got lost in each other's hands and lips, he was unzipping your dress, his hands caressing your skin, your heart beating loudly and your hands taking his shirt off…

“For the love of God, not on the couch!” Dean yelled, startling both of you.

“Oh my God I’m gonna need therapy after this” Sam said laughing with his hands covering his eyes.

“Get a room!” Dean yelled again.

Castiel and you looked at each other and chuckled, your face hiding in the crook of his neck “I wouldn't mind taking this somewhere more private” he whispered in your ear. And that's how you both ended up entering your room and closing the door behind you. This was gonna be the best Valentine's day ever.

#castiel x reader #castiel #dean winchester #supernatural imagine #supernatural #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #spn

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