#maybe even be more sure what romances would fit best

[vaguely-concerned]

we've had a death in the family (a long expected one, to be clear, but sad nonetheless :( ) and the funeral is across the country on the day after veilguard releases, so my wait now has a few more days added to it. oh well if I've waited ten years I can wait until the monday after launch haha

[mononijikayu]

boy, i, boy, i, boy, i know i know you got the feels — fushiguro megumi.

“You… want to be with me?” he repeated slowly, like he needed to say it out loud to make sure he understood. “Yes!” you said, more firmly this time. “I like you, Megumi. A lot!” For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. “What..what do you mean by like? Do you mean…like like…..or…” You looked at him confused. “But of course I like you, Megumi. You’re like my best friend!” He lowered his head. “I see.” When Gojo Satoru heard all about that, he laughed so hard he fell off a chair. Fushiguro Tsumiki was worried but Fushiguro Megumi just slapped his arm while he coughed for air.

Genre: Alternate Universe — Canon Convergence;

Warning/s: Romance, Love, Fluff, First Love, Faling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Feelings, Confessions, Anxiety, Self-Esteem, Awkwardness, Teasing, Sibling Relationship, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Humor, Protectiveness, Happy Ending, Teenage Angst, Young Love Is a Pain, Teenagers Going Through It, Sorcerer! Reader, Mild-Tsundere! Megumi, Mild-Tsundere! Reader, Gojo Satoru as a Brother;

Words: 7.8k words.

note: i wrote this maybe twice or thrice. i didn't like multiple drafts, so i kept rewriting. this was supposed to be more and more about the introspection of young people. i don't think i had that sort of phase. mine was pretty different. so i had to look into that feeling, like what would it feel like as a teenager to fall in love like this? anyway, i hope you enjoy this a lot. i love you all!!! <3

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IT WAS HARD TO EXIST THE WAY YOU WANTED. You feel like you’ve been like that all your life—too much. It doesn’t help that you were born a Gojo, like your brother. The expectations that came with the name were already heavy, but add that to everything else, and you stood out whether you wanted to or not.

You’ve always been taller—taller than the other girls in your class, taller than most of the boys too. It’s the kind of height that made you stick out awkwardly in photos, your limbs feeling too long, too noticeable, and like they never quite fit where they should.

And just as much, you were too loud. You were the kid who couldn’t sit still, who laughed too hard, and who spoke before thinking. You always had an opinion, a comment, or some joke to crack.

But while some people admired the confidence, others found it overwhelming. You’d hear them whisper about how you didn’t know how to take up less space, how you didn’t know when to stop talking. Even if they didn’t say it out loud, you could feel it—their exhaustion with your presence.

But none of their words mattered—not really. Because you never felt alone. Not when you had your brother. Satoru, with all his power and his cocky grin, had a way of making things lighter, easier. Like nothing in the world could ever bother you as long as he was there.

He always knew how to turn everything into a joke, how to lift the weight of the world off your shoulders like it was nothing. When people teased you for being too much, for being the loud Gojo girl who towered over everyone, he’d shrug it off like it was all beneath him. He never made you feel like you were too much for him.

With Satoru, it didn’t matter if you were awkward, clumsy, or too tall. He’d laugh with you, poke fun at your height like it was something to be proud of. And when people couldn’t handle you, when they stepped back because your energy was just a little too wild for them, Satoru was always there. He made you feel like the world was yours to take, that being "too much" was just another way of being more than enough.

Gojo Satoru was larger than life. He was the type who filled a room with his presence, never shy, never hesitant, always overflowing with energy. You followed in his wake, figuring that you’d grow up just like him—bold, confident, and, if you were lucky, a little ridiculous too.

People gravitated toward your brother, and you always figured they’d do the same with you, that you’d never feel small because you’d learned from the best how to be big, even if it wasn’t in the way you looked.

But of course, he had his own life too. And he was older than you. He had duties and dreams and hopes that he was going to chase after. Slowly but surely, you realized that your brother was not always going to be in your life.

You realized that he was going to live a life beyond you. He has to. And in the mind of a little girl, that had triggered some things. And you were inconsolable. You had never felt more distraught in your life.

“What are you even crying about?”

You had looked up, with your tear ridden blue eyes.

Blue–green gleams burned against your own orbs.

Then, there was Fushiguro Megumi.

Satoru had introduced you to him when you were both kids. It was a warm summer afternoon, and you remembered standing beside your brother, peeking curiously at the quiet boy who looked so out of place at your energetic, whirlwind of a home. 

“This is Megumi, little sis.” Satoru had said, patting the boy’s head with a wide grin. “He’s going to stay with us for a while with his sister. Take care of him, okay?”

You remembered Megumi’s solemn face, those intense, dark eyes peering up at you with a mix of wariness and confusion. Something about him stuck with you right away. He wasn’t like Satoru at all.

Where your brother was loud, brash, and always moving like a force of nature, Megumi was quiet, reserved, and even a little distant. But in that stillness, there was a calm that made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t expected. His presence was grounding, like he didn’t need to be loud to make an impact. The more time you spent around him, the more drawn in you became.

Even as a kid, you knew there was something special about him, something that made your heart skip in a way that confused you at first. He didn’t chase after attention like others did. He seemed comfortable being on the sidelines, watching quietly as if the chaos around him couldn’t reach him. And somehow, that pulled you in even more.

You’d find yourself watching him—whether it was during meals when he’d quietly pick at his food while Satoru jabbered on about nonsense, or when he’d curl up in a corner of the house, reading a book that looked too difficult for his age. You admired how steady he was, how he always seemed so unaffected by the noise and chaos that surrounded him.

One time, you even tried to mimic that calmness. You’d sat beside him in the living room, crossing your legs and folding your hands neatly in your lap, glancing over at him to see if he noticed. Megumi had looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow slightly. 

“What… are you doing?”

“Trying to be calm.” you’d announced proudly, puffing your chest out a little. “Like you.”

He blinked at you, his serious expression almost comically puzzled. “Why?”

“Because you’re… cool!” you’d blurted out, cheeks heating up. “You’re, um, like a cat. Quiet and… mysterious.” Even back then, you were terrible at explaining yourself, but the words just tumbled out in your eagerness to be understood.

Megumi’s lips twitched, and you’d swear you saw the faintest hint of a smile. “A cat?” he echoed, looking almost amused.

“Yeah!” you’d nodded enthusiastically. “Cats don’t need to be loud or run around to be interesting. They just… are. Like you.”

He’d stared at you for a moment, then ducked his head, ears turning pink. “That’s… a weird thing to say.”

You’d deflated a little, afraid you’d embarrassed yourself, but then Megumi had quietly shifted a bit closer, still looking down at his book. “But… thanks.” he’d mumbled, voice barely above a whisper. “I guess.”

That small, almost shy acknowledgment had made your heart swell with a warmth you didn’t quite understand. From then on, you found yourself seeking out his company more and more, content to sit beside him even if neither of you spoke much. Back then, it was simple. You just wanted to be near him, to be a part of that quiet space he seemed to create around himself.

But it wasn’t long before that simple admiration started to turn into something more. You’d catch yourself staring at him a little longer, noticing things like the way his eyes softened when he looked at you or how his hair would fall just a bit over his forehead, making you want to brush it away. Whenever Satoru teased him and made him blush, you felt an inexplicable urge to do something, anything, to make him smile instead.

Years later, that feeling only grew stronger, until it became impossible to ignore. And now, standing under the sakura trees, feeling like your heart might burst out of your chest, you finally realized why. Megumi had always been special to you, in a way no one else ever could be. And the thought of telling him that was terrifying—but also, thrilling.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Hey, Megumi,” you called out softly, stepping closer to where he stood. He glanced up, surprised by the sound of your voice cutting through the silence. “Do you remember when I said you’re like a cat?”

Megumi frowned slightly, as if trying to recall, then gave a hesitant nod. “Yeah, I think so. Why?”

“Well…” You bit your lip, fighting the urge to look away. “I still think that. But I also think… you’re more than just that.”

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You’re…” You took a deep breath, the words coming out in a rush. “You’re everything I’ve always wanted, Megumi. You’re kind, and you make me feel safe. And… and I want to be with you. Always.”

The silence that followed was almost unbearable. Megumi just stared at you, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You… want to be with me?” he repeated slowly, like he needed to say it out loud to make sure he understood.

“Yes!” you said, more firmly this time. “I like you, Megumi. A lot!”

For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. “What..what do you mean by like? Do you mean…like like…..or…”

You looked at him confused. “But of course I like you, Megumi. You’re like my best friend!”

He lowered his head. “I see.”

When Gojo Satoru heard all about that, he laughed so hard he fell off a chair. Fushiguro Tsumiki was worried but Fushiguro Megumi just slapped his arm while he coughed for air.

But as you grew older, those feelings started to change, become more complex, more uncertain. It wasn’t just a childhood crush anymore; it was something deeper. You found yourself thinking about Megumi in ways that left you feeling vulnerable, like there was a part of you that would always be reaching out to him, even if you weren’t sure he’d reach back.

It hits you suddenly;like lightning straight to your heart. You’re sitting on the couch with Megumi and your brother Satoru, casually chatting about nothing in particular, but every time Megumi glances your way, something flips inside you. It’s ridiculous, really, how just the smallest brush of his fingers against yours sends you spiraling.

You try to stay composed, but your mind is racing, wondering if he feels it too. Does his heart skip when your knees touch? Is he trying to steal glances at you the way you do when he’s not looking? Your thoughts swirl—Catching feels like butterflies—and it’s getting harder to focus on the conversation.

Satoru notices immediately, of course. The knowing smirk on his face is impossible to miss.

"Hey, you good?" he asks, voice laced with amusement. "You're looking kinda flushed. Maybe it's the heat—oh wait, maybe it's just Cupid."

You shoot him a glare, but the grin on his face only widens.

"Shut up." you mutter, crossing your arms, though the heat in your cheeks betrays you. “Focus on everything else except me.”

He leans in closer, eyes glinting with mischief. "Ooooh, are you catching feels?" He snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "This is too good! I thought you were just spacing out, but nope, you're totally—boom-boom-boom from head to toe."

Megumi glances over, raising an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Before you can even attempt to answer, Satoru’s all over it, teasing mercilessly. "Oh, nothing! Just my dearest sister here having a bit of a heart-fluttering moment. But don’t worry, Megumi, she’s just having a moment. But boy, I know, boy I know, my sis has the feels!"

You want to disappear right then and there. Of course, Satoru would turn this into a full-blown spectacle. You manage to meet Megumi’s gaze, and to your surprise, there’s a slight flush on his cheeks too.

"Ignore him, okay?" Megumi says, voice calm but softer than usual. He smiles at you, for a moment. You could feel yourself getting hot. He was pretty when he smiled. Oh my god. “He’s just…annoying again.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Spoken like a child.”

It gives you a little hope, just enough to make you wonder if maybe—just maybe—his heart beats the same way.

But before you can dwell on that, Satoru’s voice cuts through the moment, "You’re both hopeless! Just admit it already. This is too entertaining."

You groan, burying your face in your hands, but there’s no denying it anymore. You’ve got all the feels, and Satoru isn’t about to let you forget it. “Shut up!”

“No!” He snickers back at you, tongue out. 

“I’m telling mom about this!”

“Hey, don’t! Mom’s gonna yell at me!”

The doubt crept in slowly at first. You couldn’t help but notice how different you were from the girls Megumi seemed to glance at from time to time—small, delicate girls, the kind that looked like they belonged in some romantic movie. Girls who were easy to hold, easy to protect. Girls who fit perfectly into that image of what you thought a guy like Megumi might want.

It’s not like you’d caught him staring or anything, but you’d seen the way his eyes lingered on them, just for a second longer than usual. It wasn’t anything obvious, but you noticed—of course, you noticed. And once you did, it was like a seed of doubt planted itself in your mind, growing roots and spreading.

You’re not like that. Not even close.

You’re too loud. Always have been. The kind of loudness that people notice before you even say a word. The one who laughs too hard at jokes, talks over people without meaning to, and fills every silence with something because you hate the quiet. Megumi, though? He thrives in the quiet. His calm, composed presence is so opposite to your own chaotic energy that it feels like a constant reminder of how you could never be his type.

And then there’s the height thing. You’re not sure why it bothers you so much, but it does. You’ve caught yourself slouching a little around him, trying to shrink yourself because standing next to Megumi, you feel like you’re towering over him. You feel awkward, too tall, like you’re out of place in his world of composed strength.

It’s silly, right? He’s not short, not by any means, but standing next to him? It feels like you take up too much space, like you’re the hurricane and he’s the calm in the storm. How could someone like that ever be into someone like you?

And it’s not just your height. It’s everything. You’re messy, clumsy, always blurting out what’s on your mind without thinking. Megumi’s quiet, reserved, the kind of guy who takes his time to process things, to consider every angle. Meanwhile, you’re tripping over your words, interrupting without meaning to, and trying way too hard to fill the silence when you know you should probably just shut up.

You groan inwardly, sinking further into the couch as Satoru continues to tease you, his voice still echoing in your head. "You’re totally catching feels, sis." he had said, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. And maybe to him, it is. But to you? It’s terrifying.

Because you know—you know—that you’re not the kind of person Megumi would go for. You’re not the small, delicate girl who looks like she stepped out of a dream. You’re loud, too tall, too much. And even if Megumi’s too polite to say anything, you can’t help but think that deep down, he’s got to notice it too.

Maybe that’s why you’ve been trying to ignore these feelings. They don’t make sense. How could they? You’re so different, and not in a way that balances out. More like in a way that makes you wonder what you’re even doing here, sitting next to him, pretending like you belong.

You risk a glance at Megumi. He’s focused on the TV, his usual thoughtful expression in place. He’s probably not even thinking about you, not the way you’re obsessing over every little detail. And why would he?

Guys like him don’t go for girls like you.

One evening, you found yourself sprawled on the couch, a bowl of popcorn balancing precariously on your stomach as you stared at the ceiling, sighing dramatically for the tenth time in five minutes.

Satoru, who was sitting at the dining table messing with his phone, finally looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Alright, what’s the deal? You’ve been sighing like you’re auditioning for a soap opera. You’ve been out of it for a while.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help a small laugh. “It’s nothing. It’s just… falling in love is so hard.”

Satoru’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oh? Now we’re talking about love, huh?” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows like he was about to drop some great wisdom. “Who’s the unlucky guy? Is it Hibari Kyoya this time? Or….well…Jeon Jungkook?”

You groaned and buried your face in the couch pillow. “It’s not about one guy! It’s the whole process. It’s exhausting. Why can’t it just be easy?”

Satoru walked over and plopped down beside you, stealing a handful of your popcorn. “Easy? Love is supposed to be fun. I’m fun, and I’m great at love. What are you doing wrong? Tell big brother, little sis.”

You shot him a death glare, which only made him chuckle. “You make everything sound like a competition. I can’t exactly just… Gojo Satoru my way through love.”

“I mean, you could.” he said, popping a kernel into his mouth. “Have you tried being as charming as me?”

“Oh, please. I am charming!” you said, sitting up and throwing a piece of popcorn at him. “It’s just… ugh, you know what I mean. It’s like every time I like someone, they’re all obsessed with those cute, tiny, delicate girls. And then there’s me.” You gestured at your tall frame with both hands, adding a dramatic flair. “Loud, unignorable, tall-as-a-tree me. Freak of nature, if you will!”

Satoru snorted. “You make it sound like you’re a giraffe or something. And please, you’re hardly a freak of nature. I’m tall and petite all the same.”

“Sometimes it feels like it!” you huffed, crossing your arms. “Do you know how hard it is to casually lean on someone when they’re two heads shorter than you? I could break them!”

“Good point.” Satoru said with mock seriousness. “Being tall and fabulous is clearly a burden.”

You shot him a look. “Don’t patronize me, you’re not helping.”

Satoru laughed and patted your head like you were a puppy. “Come on, what’s wrong with being tall? It’s your thing. Own it. Besides, nothing you can do about Gojo genes. We are tall.”

You sighed again, this time more dramatically. “It’s not just the height, Satoru-nii. It’s everything! The girls guys like are all quiet and soft, and I’m like… a walking megaphone with legs for days.”

Satoru smirked. “First of all, you’re not a megaphone. Maybe a karaoke machine, at worst.”

You threw a cushion at him, but he ducked easily, still grinning. “And second of all,” he continued, “you’re focusing on the wrong stuff. Guys don’t just like small, quiet girls. That’s a myth. Trust me, you just need to find the guy who appreciates that you could easily dunk on him in basketball.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that image. “Oh yeah, super romantic. ‘Hey, babe, let me dunk on you real quick.’”

“Exactly!” Satoru said with a wink. “You’ve got to use what makes you awesome, not hide it. I mean, look at Meg—” He cut himself off, eyes twinkling mischievously. “You know, I thought I was gonna set it aside, maybe you’re too logical about things but….”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you instantly went into defense mode. “W–what about Megumi?”

“Nothing, nothing!” he said, holding up his hands innocently. “Just saying, he’s quiet, and you’re loud. Could be a good balance. You never know…”

You blushed furiously, tossing the rest of your popcorn at him. “Satoru-nii! He’s your student! I can’t just and someone under your care—ugh!”

Satoru laughed like this was the most entertaining thing he’d heard all week. “Hey, all I’m saying is, maybe you’re thinking about this whole ‘falling in love’ thing too hard. Maybe you’re already in love and just don’t know what to do about it. Or maybe….you just don’t want to talk about it, per se.”

You glared at him, but he kept going, grinning like a cat who had caught a mouse. “Besides, if Megumi ever needs someone to keep him grounded, who better than you? You’d definitely shake up his boring, quiet life. He likes color too, you know. He’s just…more somber about it. You know how he is!”

You groaned and flopped back down on the couch, hiding your face again. “I don’t even know if he likes me, okay? He’s probably never looked at me that way before or ever, and I’m just… me. What if he thinks I’m annoying?”

Satoru rolled his eyes dramatically. “Please. Everyone thinks you’re annoying, and they still like you.” He dodged another pillow you threw at him and continued, “Besides, Megumi doesn’t hang out with people unless he likes them. Have you ever seen him willingly spend time with anyone else besides me? Or Kugisaki or Itadori?”

You blinked. That was a good point. Megumi did spend a lot of time with you—more than with most other people. But still…

“You think so?” you mumbled, feeling a glimmer of hope creep in.

Satoru gave you a soft smile—an unusually sincere expression for him. “Yeah, I do. And even if he’s not into it right now, anyone who can’t appreciate you for who you are is an idiot. You’re a catch, even if you do throw pillows like a five-year-old.”

You snorted, wiping at your eyes. “Thanks, I guess?”

“Anytime, little sis!” Satoru said, leaning back and tossing another piece of popcorn into his mouth. “Now, if you’re done complaining, let’s figure out how you can subtly drop-kick your way into Megumi’s heart.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway. “I’m not drop-kicking him.”

“Too bad. It would’ve been fun to watch.”

“You’re so annoying, I hate you.”

He grinned. “No you don’t!”

HE WISHED HE WASN’T SUCH A KLUTZ ABOUT THIS. Fushiguro Megumi sat there, staring at his phone screen, his thumb hovering over the “send” button like it was some kind of bomb he wasn’t ready to detonate.

He had typed the message about ten times, erased it nine, and now, here he was, sweating over the tenth. All he needed to do was press send. That’s it. Just one tap, and he’d finally take a step toward telling you how he really felt.

But, as usual, his mind spiraled with doubts.

What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if this ruins everything? What if she’s just being nice to me because of Satoru?

He groaned, running a hand over his face. Why was this so hard? He could face curses, fight dangerous opponents, and handle life-or-death situations without batting an eye. But when it came to you, his brain turned into a tangled mess of uncertainty.

His internal crisis was interrupted by a loud knock on his door.

“Fuuuuuuushiiiiiiiguuuuuuuuroooooo! You in there?” Yuji’s voice rang out cheerfully. Before Megumi could even respond, the door swung open, and Yuji and Nobara barged in, grinning like they had just walked in on something juicy.

“Wha—what are you two doing here?” Megumi stammered, quickly locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket, hoping they hadn’t seen anything.

“Whatcha hiding?” Nobara asked immediately, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. She crossed her arms and gave him a look like she was about to crack a case wide open.

“Nothing.” Megumi said too quickly, which only made Yuji and Nobara more curious.

Yuji flopped onto the bed, making himself at home. “Come on, Fushiguro! You look like you were about to do something important.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Something to do with a girl maybe?”

Megumi felt the tips of his ears go red. “What? No! It’s nothing.”

“Oh my god, he’s blushing!” Nobara exclaimed, smirking like a cat who’d caught a mouse. She nudged Yuji. “You know what that means.”

Yuji nodded sagely. “Yup. It’s definitely about a girl.”

Nobara laughs. “Oh, but not just any girl! You know….Gojo–sensei’s sister?”

“Wait!” Yuji’s eyes widened as Megumi looked away, the blush turning even more bright. “Fushiguro? Gojo–sensei’s sister!?”

Megumi groaned, feeling his face heat up even more. He could never hide anything from these two. It was like they had some kind of embarrassing moment radar. “No, it’s not! Leave it alone already!”

“Aha……” Nobara’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “It’s about Gojo Satoru’s sister, isn’t it? You’re so obvious about this!”

Megumi nearly choked on air. “Wha—no! I mean……” He trailed off, realizing that he was only digging himself deeper into a hole. “It’s not…It’s not what you think it is!”

“Oh my god, it is!” Nobara practically squealed. “You like her, don’t you?”

Yuji was grinning from ear to ear now, thoroughly enjoying Megumi’s suffering. “I knew it! You’re always all flustered around her.”

“I am not flustered. I am not….” Megumi muttered, looking away, which only made him look more flustered. “This is too much from you two!”

“Dude, you are so flustered, right now!” Yuji said, laughing. “It’s okay! You should just tell her how you feel.”

Megumi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?” Nobara asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You’re both into each other. I mean, she practically looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. What’s the problem?”

Megumi blinked, caught off guard. “She… does?”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Duh. How are you this dense? It’s so obvious! She’s always laughing at your jokes, even when they’re not funny.”

“Hey!” Megumi protested weakly.

“And she’s always finding excuses to be around you,” Yuji added. “Plus, the way she looks at you when she thinks no one’s watching? Come on, man, she’s into you.”

Megumi felt a flicker of hope, but his doubts crept back in. “But what if I’m wrong? What if I ruin things between us?”

Yuji and Nobara exchanged a look before turning back to him.

“Yo, Fushiguro!” Yuji said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You can’t spend your whole life worrying about what ifs. Just tell her. Worst case, things get a little awkward, but knowing her, she won’t let that happen.”

Nobara nodded. “And honestly, with how close you two already are, I’d bet money that she’s waiting for you to make the first move.”

Megumi let their words sink in, the knot of anxiety in his chest loosening just a little. Maybe they were right. Maybe he was overthinking everything. After all, you’d been dropping hints for a while now, hadn’t you? The lingering glances, the way you always seemed to gravitate toward him in a room full of people…

He pulled his phone back out, staring at the unsent message again.

Yuji peeked over his shoulder. “Ooh, you were gonna text her? What’re you waiting for? Send it!”

Nobara nodded eagerly. “Do it, do it, do it!”

With a deep breath, Megumi finally pressed send.

“Hey. Are you free tomorrow? Let’s talk.”

He tossed his phone onto the bed and slumped back against the wall, exhaling like he’d just run a marathon.

Nobara grinned triumphantly. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“Yeah.” Megumi muttered, though his heart was still racing. Now all he had to do was wait for your reply.

Yuji and Nobara, clearly pleased with themselves, exchanged a high-five. “Mission accomplished!” Yuji declared, grinning.

Megumi rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

The moment Megumi pressed send, his stomach dropped. What had he just done? Now there was no going back. He couldn’t unsend the message, couldn’t take back the quiet confession it represented. All he could do was wait for your response.

Yuji and Nobara were still grinning like a pair of mischievous siblings who had just successfully pulled off a prank. Megumi, on the other hand, was wondering if he should just bury himself in his bed and never come out.

“So….....” Yuji leaned in, his eyes wide with excitement. “What now? You think she’s gonna reply right away? Maybe she’s been waiting for this all along!”

Nobara snickered. “I bet she’s freaking out right now, staring at her phone like, ‘Oh my god, THE Fushiguro Megumi finally texted me to talk. What do I do?!’” She mimicked a dramatic swoon, nearly falling off the chair, which only made Yuji burst out laughing.

“Would you two stop?” Megumi groaned, pulling a pillow over his face in an attempt to block out their teasing. His ears were still burning, and the last thing he needed was them making it worse.

“Come on, man! This is exciting!” Yuji said, playfully tugging the pillow away. “You’ve probably  been into her for ages! Didn’t you guys meet as kids? And now you’re finally doing something about it! You should be happy!”

Megumi peeked out from behind the pillow, his expression somewhere between annoyance and anxiety. “Yeah, or I could be about to make the most embarrassing mistake of my life.”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Ugh, seriously? You’re not gonna make a mistake, Megumi. Trust me. That girl is totally into you.”

“Yeah. Pretty obvious to us.” Yuji added, “if you could see how she looks at you, you wouldn’t be worrying about this.”

Megumi hesitated, feeling a small flicker of hope again. Could it really be true? Did you look at him the same way he looked at you? He was usually pretty good at reading people, but when it came to you, his emotions seemed to get in the way, clouding his judgment.

His phone buzzed, and all three of them froze.

Yuji’s eyes widened. “That’s her, isn’t it?!”

Nobara practically lunged for the phone. “Open it, open it, open it!”

Megumi’s heart skipped a beat as he grabbed the phone, hands suddenly shaky. He unlocked it, and there it was—your reply.

Hey, yeah, I’m free tomorrow. What’s up?

It was simple, nothing out of the ordinary, but to Megumi, it felt like the weight of the world had just lifted off his shoulders. You didn’t sound nervous or weirded out. You just… replied. As if this was the most normal thing in the world.

He exhaled, not realizing he had been holding his breath.

“Well? What’d she say?” Nobara leaned in, practically on the edge of her seat.

“She said she’s free.” Megumi muttered, trying to sound casual, but the small smile tugging at his lips gave him away.

“Oh, look at him!” Yuji teased, nudging Megumi with his elbow. “He’s smiling! Megumi, man, you’re whipped.”

Megumi shot him a look. “I’m not whipped.”

“Yeah, you are.” Nobara said with a smirk. “And honestly? It’s kinda cute. I never thought I’d see the day when you, of all people, would get all flustered over a girl.”

Megumi rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Can you two go now?”

“Fine, fine.” Nobara stood up, stretching her arms above her head. “But remember, if you mess this up, we’re totally going to say, ‘I told you so.’”

Yuji chuckled, giving Megumi a thumbs-up as they headed for the door. “Good luck, lover boy.”

“Don’t call me that.” Megumi grumbled, but there was no real bite to his words. He was too relieved, too nervous, and, if he was honest with himself, a little excited.

As the door closed behind them, Megumi sat back down on the bed, staring at your message. His heart was still racing, but this time, it wasn’t just from nerves. There was something else—hope. Maybe, just maybe, this would turn out okay.

He typed out a quick response.

Cool. Let’s meet after training? I want to talk.

And with that, he tossed the phone onto the bed again, burying his face in his hands.

What am I even going to say? He had no idea, but tomorrow was coming whether he was ready or not.

Little did he know, you were sitting in your room, staring at your own phone, your heart racing just as fast.

AND SO IT HAPPENED. It was a crisp, sunny afternoon when you found yourself standing under the canopy of sakura trees, the pale pink petals drifting lazily to the ground. Everything about the moment was making you feel queasy, like your stomach was doing flips. Why was this making you feel so sick? Why was your heart pounding like this? You could still feel the heat from your nervous sweat, which only made it worse. How is feeling so much love making you feel like you were going to die? You hated this. You really hated this. 

Your elder brother, Satoru, had this knack for making every situation simultaneously better and worse. Walking beside you, he was grinning like he knew something you didn’t, that classic, cocky smirk plastered across his face.

“Good luck, little sis!” he teased, ruffling your hair like you were a kid. “I’m sure Megumi’s gonna love whatever awkward thing you’re about to say.”

You shot him a glare, your nerves bubbling up with his every word. “You’re not helping.”

“Who said I was trying to help?” He winked, clearly enjoying your suffering. You glared at him. “I’m just here for moral support... and to watch you squirm.”

“Thanks.” you muttered, the sarcasm dripping from your voice.

Satoru laughed, clapping you on the back. “Come on, it’s Megumi. He’s practically family. What’s the worst that could happen? He rejects you? Nah, you’ll be fine.”

you wished your brother didn’t have Infinity, just so you could land a good punch on him. Now, standing there, nerves making you feel like backing out entirely, you glanced at him one more time.

To your surprise, his teasing smirk faded, replaced with concern. "Hey, hey, don’t cry!" He waved his hands in front of you frantically. "I was joking! I didn’t mean to make you upset."

"It wasn’t funny!" you snapped, blinking rapidly as the threat of tears welled up. Why did he always have to push your buttons?

Satoru looked genuinely worried for a second, which was rare. "Okay, okay, listen..." His tone softened, a little less of that cocky edge. "If Megumi doesn’t like you back, that’s okay. There’s plenty of people who will love you better, alright? Genuinely."

You sniffed, still feeling that tight knot of anxiety in your chest. "Yeah, right."

"I mean it," he insisted, stepping closer and placing a hand on your shoulder. “Your good ol' big brother is one of them, okay? You’ll always be loved, doll. You’ve got me, forever. No one’s ever gonna change that.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes but feeling a bit better, even if his logic was as goofy as always. "Still doesn’t make this any less terrifying, you know."

Satoru chuckled, ruffling your hair again. "Well, if all else fails, you can come hide behind me. Infinity’s good for that too, you know!"

By the time he finally left you alone, after throwing in one last, “Don’t mess it up, though!” you were already sweating. Actually sweating. Harder than ever before.

"Great. Just great." you grumbled to yourself, imagining all the possible ways this could go wrong. “Love sucks! This sucks!”

But sooner or later, you knew you would have to face it. And so you waited for Megumi. You waited patiently as you created stupid little scenarios in your head — things that shouldn’t even be. 

And after about fifteen minutes, here you were, facing Fushiguro Megumi, your heart pounding so loudly you were certain he could hear it. He stood a few feet away, hands buried deep in his pockets, staring intently at the ground as though it held the answers to life’s greatest mysteries.

Is he nervous too? you wondered. Somehow, that thought gave you the slightest sense of relief, but only for a fleeting moment. The truth was, you hadn’t been able to focus on anything since this morning, and now that you were actually standing in front of him, the anxiety was threatening to spill over.

Megumi’s hair, slightly ruffled by the breeze, caught your attention. His gaze remained fixed downward, his usual calm, almost brooding expression in place, but something about the way his shoulders were tense told you he wasn’t as composed as he seemed.

"I…" You started, your voice catching in your throat. Great, now you are losing your nerve.

Megumi’s eyes flickered toward you, his expression unreadable but curious. He waited, his silence urging you to continue, even though the words seemed to have tangled themselves up inside your head.

You tried again, taking a small breath, "I don’t really know how to say this without sounding like an idiot."

He shifted slightly, his eyes finally lifting to meet yours. “You’re not an idiot.” he said softly, though the hint of amusement in his voice wasn’t lost on you. “You aren’t one. Never…never have been.”

He looked… nervous? Which made you feel a little better, since you were pretty sure you’d forgotten how to breathe about five minutes ago.

Alright, you thought, trying to psych yourself up. You’re just going to confess. It’s simple. People do it all the time! You can do this. It’s Megumi—your Megumi.

Except now that you were actually standing in front of him, your brain decided to throw you a curveball. What if… what if he doesn’t like tall, petite girls?

You winced at the thought. Megumi was tall and handsome, and here you were, small, like a walking marshmallow. What if he preferred someone else, someone who needs his help? Does he like girls who seem to be more dependent on him? What if he liked girls with long, model-like legs? Wait, I don’t have those sort of legs! I have an athlete’s legs, but thinner! Oh my god…I, am I his type? Or worse, what if you were just a friend to him?

Before you knew it, words were tumbling out of your mouth.

“Um… Megumi?” you started, your voice way too high-pitched to sound cool. “There’s something I need to say.”

Megumi glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly in that focused way he had. Your face felt like it was on fire. “Yeah?” he said, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity.

You hesitated, suddenly regretting every decision you’d made that day. But you couldn’t back out now. You were already knee-deep in awkwardness.

“I know I’m, like… not like all the other girls or anything. Not to mention, I'm loud and awkward and just....” You winced as you said it. You feel your cheeks getting redder by the second. “And maybe… maybe you like taller girls or maybe more chic girls? Like, you know, girls with long model legs who look good in anything. Or at least girls who don’t have to deal with….you know, I….I don’t know. But I just….”

Megumi blinked at you, his eyes widening slightly as the words sunk in. For a moment, you thought you’d really messed up—like he might just walk away or start laughing. But then, something unexpected happened.

His face turned an alarming shade of red, and he blurted, “W-What? No! That’s not— I don’t care about any of that!” His voice cracked slightly, and you could tell he was flustered. Megumi. Flustered. Your heart did a weird little flip at that.

“I like you… exactly how you are. I don’t care if you have…if you have athlete legs and not model legs.” he said, quieter this time, as if saying it any louder would somehow make it harder for him. His eyes darted to the side, but you could see the sincerity there. “I… don’t care if you’re short or tall or… whatever.” His blush deepened as he added, “You’re… perfect.”

It took a second for your brain to catch up to what he was saying. Wait—he thought you were perfect? Did you… did you hear that right?

You opened your mouth, but all you managed was a strangled, “Oh.” Which was, you know, super eloquent. Good job, me.

Megumi shifted on his feet, still avoiding your gaze. “I thought…” he started, his voice so low you almost didn’t catch it, “that you didn’t like me because I’m… well, you know.” He made a vague gesture with his hand.

You stared at him, confused. “Because you’re… what?”

His expression was a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, like he really didn’t want to explain, but felt like he had to. “Because I’m… brooding. I’m not…I know I’m not the most fun of people to be around. And I just….I know it’s also hard to talk to me. And I'm way too quiet, I don't talk for hours sometimes.” he muttered. He cleared his throat and added. “I’m not exactly the most… open or easygoing person. I figured you’d probably want someone who’s more… fun.”

You blinked. “Fun? Megumi, you think I don’t like you because you’re… broody?”

He shrugged, still looking like he wanted to disappear into the nearest bush. “I mean… yeah.”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. Megumi’s eyes snapped back to you, looking completely baffled, as if he hadn’t expected that reaction at all.

“No way!” you said, still giggling as you wiped a tear from your eye. “That’s one of the things I like about you!”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Wait… what?”

“You’re serious and quiet!” you explained, your heart softening as you looked at him. “But you’re also kind. And you care so much about everyone, even if you don’t show it the way other people do. I think it’s…” you swallowed, suddenly shy again, “...really cute, actually.”

Megumi’s expression softened in a way that made your chest ache. He looked like he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing but was too relieved to question it. "Oh."

"Yeah...."

“So… you like me?” he asked, his voice a little hesitant, like he was afraid the answer might change if he said it out loud.

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “Yeah… I do.”

There was a beat of silence where neither of you moved, both too flustered to figure out what came next. The sakura petals continued to fall around you, and for a moment, it felt like you were in a scene straight out of a cheesy romance.

“And you… like me?” you ventured, your heart thumping hard.

Megumi looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, but you could see the tiniest smile playing on his lips. “Yeah.” he muttered. “A lot.”

You stood there for a while, both of you blushing like tomatoes, staring at anything but each other. But somehow, despite the awkwardness, it felt perfect—like you’d finally figured out what had been right in front of you all along.

“Maybe we should, um… go get something to eat?” you suggested, trying to break the tension before you spontaneously combusted from embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Megumi agreed, a little too quickly. “Food. Good idea.”

You started walking, side by side, still too nervous to hold hands or do anything couple-like, but grinning like idiots who’d finally realized how much you liked each other. You'll be okay, together.

epilogue

The café near Jujutsu High was cozy, with soft lighting and the faint hum of conversations from other patrons filling the space. Megumi and I sat across from each other, still awkward but smiling. The post-confession giddiness hadn’t worn off, and every now and then, our eyes would meet, followed by a quick blush and looking away.

I nervously poked at my dessert with my fork, stealing glances at Megumi, who was doing a pretty good job pretending to focus on his coffee. I should say something, I thought, but before I could open my mouth, a loud, familiar voice shattered the peaceful atmosphere.

"Well, well, well! What do we have here? My adorable little sister and Fushiguro Megumi! On a date! How cute!"

I whipped my head around, and there he was—Gojo Satoru, in all his obnoxiously tall, grinning glory, standing at the entrance of the café like he owned the place. His trademark sunglasses were perched on his nose, and he had his phone in hand, ready for whatever chaos he was about to unleash.

Megumi groaned and slouched down in his seat, his face flushing a deep shade of red. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, just taking a casual stroll around campus when I happened to spot you two. And, being the fantastic older brother I am, I couldn’t resist stopping by to see what’s going on."

I sighed, knowing full well this was about to get much worse. "Satoru-nii…please don’t."

But Gojo Satoru was already snapping pictures of us with his phone, zooming in obnoxiously on both of our embarrassed faces. “Oh, these are perfect. You both look so adorable! I can’t wait to send these to Yuji, Nobara, and the rest of the gang.”

Megumi’s hand shot up in protest. “Stop—”

Too late. Gojo Satoru’s fingers flew over his phone screen as he quickly shared the photos. I could already imagine the messages popping up in the group chat: Yuji losing his mind with excitement, Nobara teasing Megumi, and the second and third years chiming in with their own commentary.

“Satoru-nii!” I whisper-shouted, trying to keep my voice low enough not to draw the attention of the other café-goers. “You promised no embarrassing photos!”

Gojo just grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “Hey, you didn’t say anything about dates. Besides, this is for posterity. Your first date with the brooding Megumi! Awww, it’s like watching a baby deer trying to walk for the first time. My future brother in law and my sister’s first date! Oh this will be cute in the wedding powerpoint!”

Megumi looked like he wanted to crawl under the table, and honestly, I wasn’t too far behind. I glanced at him, feeling bad for dragging him into this chaos. “Gojo–sensei, we aren’t….That’s not—”

“Say cheese!”

But then, something unexpected happened. Maybe it was Gojo’s teasing, or maybe it was just the ridiculousness of the whole situation, but I felt a sudden surge of boldness. I scooted my chair a little closer to Megumi, leaned into him slightly, and—just to spite Satoru—rested my head on his shoulder.

Megumi stiffened at first, his body going rigid in surprise, but after a second, I felt him relax. He glanced down at me, and despite his still-flushed cheeks, there was a soft smile tugging at his lips. He didn’t say anything, but the way he subtly leaned into me in return spoke volumes.

Gojo, of course, gasped dramatically. “Ohhhh! Look at you two! All cozy now! This is too precious, I’m dying.”

“You’re gonna be dying for real if you don’t stop.” Megumi muttered, though he didn’t sound as angry as he usually did. He seemed…happy, even if he wouldn’t admit it. And honestly, that made me smile too.

Gojo, ever the drama queen, pretended to clutch his heart. “My little Megumi, all grown up and in love! My precious little sister, grown and down bad! This is truly a day to remember.” He took another picture, but at this point, I didn’t care. Neither did Megumi.

After what felt like an eternity of Gojo’s teasing, he finally waved us off with a laugh. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. But don’t think I’m letting this go anytime soon! I expect wedding invites, you hear me?”

He sauntered out of the café, phone still in hand, leaving us in peace once again.

I let out a long sigh of relief, finally able to relax. “I’m sorry about him. He’s… well, he’s Satoru.”

Megumi shook his head, still leaning into me a little. “It’s fine. I’m used to it by now.”

We sat there quietly for a moment, neither of us moving. Despite the embarrassment, I felt a sense of warmth spreading through my chest. Leaning into Megumi, feeling the weight of his shoulder against mine, it was nice. Comforting.

I looked up at him and saw that soft smile again. He wasn’t embarrassed anymore—he looked…content. Maybe even a little happy.

“You know.......” I said, my voice quiet, smiling. “I think this might be the best date ever.”

Megumi glanced down at me, and for the first time that day, he chuckled softly. “Yeah… I think so too.”

[slutt4lovee]

friends (b.b.)

𝚗𝚊𝚟𝚒 - 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 - 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 - 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count: 2356

warnings: NO SMUT, just cutesy fluff, maybe just a tiny bit of angst but not really, nothing really to warn about. might be some typos and shit but at this point y'all should be expecting this from my dyslexic ass.

summary: After being friends with Bucky for years, you finally get the confession you've been dreaming of.

Being Bucky's friend isn't really as great as Steve made it seem. Sure, Bucky is caring and funny and fiercely protective of the things and people that he loves. Yes, he's funny and charming and everything good in the world, but he is also arrogant and cocky and so emotionally repressed that you're not even sure he knows what feelings are anymore.

Being Bucky's friend means that you're also the Winter Soldier's best friend and that is a horrible feeling. Not because of the fact that he is the Winter Soldier but more so because the Winter Soldier has a fucking martyr complex. Despite the fact that Bucky is an amazing person who you think encompasses every good aspect of the world, he's an incredible dumbass. Not just a regular dumbass, the kind of fucking idiot that thinks everyone else, everything else is more important than him. The kind of idiotic person that thinks everyone but him is worth saving, the kind who runs head first into danger because he genuinely doesn't care if he lives or dies as long as he saves someone. Bucky is the type of imbecile that would run into a building, knowing it was rigged with explosives just to save a cat.

Bucky may be one of the best people you've ever met, but being his friend is horrible.

It's caring so intensely for someone who doesn't even care about himself. It's not being able to see or even speak to him for weeks or months because he's off on some insanely stupid mission to save the fucking world or something stupid like that. It's him constantly thinking he's some kind of invincible god and you having to remind him over and over and over that he's not. No matter how much he might look like one. It's trying to convince someone that hates his entire fucking existence that he deserves every soft, sappy thing in the world no matter how much he thinks he doesn't.

But worst of all it's being in love with a complete fucking idiot who doesn't even think he's worthy of love. You'd take all the anxiety, the panic, the dread, the crying and worry a million times over if you could just not be in love with that complete fucking dumbass. Or if you could maybe convince him that he deserves all the love in the fucking world.

—

You can't sleep, never can when he's gone. Some stupid romance movie you've seen about a hundred times plays on your tv—a feeble attempt to keep your mind off Bucky. To keep your mind from imagining what he's doing on his mission and all the ways it could go horribly wrong.

It doesn't really work.

It's almost impossible to keep him out of your mind. When you're not worrying about all the ways he could be killed, you're pining after him in the worst fucking way.

Just staring mindlessly at the screen daydreaming about him and the way his clothes always fit just right, just enough to give you a good view of his muscles without being too tight. And the way he looks in his stupidly attractive one armed outfits he wears on missions—which shouldn't be so fucking hot, but it is, it really fucking is. And his lips, just everything about them, their shape, their pretty pink color, the way they look so fucking soft all the god damned time. And that boyish, way too endearing, smirk of his that makes your heart feel like it's about to burst out of your chest. And his hands and the way they feel against your skin, rough calloused fingers with a touch so soft it sends chills down your spine. And—and, God you're so fucking fucked about him.

He's your best friend, really one of your only friends, and yet you can't stop thinking about him doing filthy things—that he would probably never do—to you. It's horrible and dirty and disrespectful but you just can't stop, thinking about Bucky's mouth and if it's really as soft as it looks.

You smell him before you even hear him, woody smoke, and honey, mixed with sweat. You smile softly to yourself as he drops his bag to the ground with a little grunt. Your mind moves slowly, struggling through your lack of sleep to put pieces together. You're clumsily climbing over the back of the couch the second you realize he's really there.

"Bucky," You start to say, stumbling a little at the ungraceful way you dismount from the back of the couch. "What the fuck?" You ask, waving your hands up and down in his general direction.

He's not sure if you're questioning his appearance or his presence...maybe both. You're not really sure either.

"I just got back," He mutters, words dripping with exhaustion as his arms slip lazily around your waist, making you trip over your own feet as he pulls you into his chest.

"You didn't text," You whisper, matching the soft tone of his voice as you slide your arms around his neck, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He doesn't respond right away, he pulls you closer instead, grabbing onto your shirt to keep you there as if you had any plans on letting go. He makes a soft, barely audible noise, as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. His arms are tight around your waist, holding you to him like he's scared you're just gonna disappear and the thought makes your chest ache. You tilt your head, squeezing your eyes shut as your nose presses into the top of his shoulder, your lips just barely touching the leather on his jacket. Your nose floods with his scent, and you find yourself wishing you could capture it and keep it forever. He smells like camping in the summer, like searching for bugs and plants and pretty rocks in the woods, like staring up at the sky and pointing out the prettiest ones.

He smells likehome, warm and cozy and safe.

Slowly it feels like every ounce of worry and dread is leached out of your body. He's home, he's safe, he's here in your arms and nothing else fucking matters. This is the good part, this right here, all the worrying and sleepless nights are worth it just for this feeling. This happy sort of peaceful relief you get every time he comes back safe.

"M'sorry," He mutters after a few seconds, his words muffled in the crook of your neck. "Jus' wanted to get home."

Your stomach twists at that, a giddy sort of feeling floating around in your stomach at his words. He came straight from his mission to you. Didn't stop at his place, didn't go to the compound, he came straight to you. Straight home to you.

"Took ya long enough." You whisper against his shoulder, voice light and teasing as his grip on your shirt tightens.

He doesn't say anything, but you can tell this one must've been rough on him. It's obvious from the way he's clutching your shirt like a lifeline. Holding you to his chest like he thought he'd never see you again, like he's scared to let go. You don't ask him about it, he'll talk when he's ready, but you do hold him just as tight as he holds you. Rub your hands along his back, over his shoulder, up the back of his neck, lingering the softest touches everywhere you can reach because you know it calms him down.

"S'good you came home, you were gone so long I was about to come lookin' for you." You tell him, smiling softly against his neck at the little snort he lets out.

He's quiet for a bit longer, just standing there with his arms around your waist, his hands clutching at your shirt like he's terrifiedyou're going to vanish. After a while he relinquishes your shirt and before you can even think about pulling away, not that you would, his hands are running down to the backs of your thighs.

"M'sorry," He murmurs into your neck, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist like you weigh absolutely nothing. "Came as quick as I could, darlin', didn't even get to shower or anything."

"Did you eat?" You ask softly, holding onto him a little tighter as he hooks his arms back around your waist.

He shakes his head and you start to offer to cook him something while he showers but he's walking in the direction of your bedroom before you can get a single word out. He nudges your bedroom door open with the toe of his boot without saying a word and it makes you frown because Bucky is never silent around you. Talks so damn much you started to think he just liked the sound of his own voice (really he just loved the sound of yours but he's not about to admit something that sappy).

"Do you want to eat?" You ask, voice all soft and sweet in a way that makes his head spin.

He shakes his head again and without even letting go of you, he falls forward onto your bed, sandwiching you between him and your mattress. He's heavy, dense, thick muscle directly on top of you, but you don't complain. You wouldn't dare tell him that he's crushing your fucking chest because then he'd let go and you don't want that.

He settles with his head on your chest, his ear pressed up against the center of it. Listening closely to the sound of your heart like he didn't believe it was real. His hand slips a little under the hem of your shirt but stays resting on your hip as if all he wanted was just to feel your skin.

He's silent for a while, laying so still that you almost think he's fallen asleep. You don't say anything either because what could you possibly say? You could tell him about work or something but you're almost certain he doesn't want to hear that.

"Thought you were dead..." He whispers as he nuzzles his face against the center of your chest. His hands squeeze at your hips and you can't shake the feeling that he's trying to make sure you're real.

You don't really know what to say to that either. You stroke your fingers through his hair and you swear you feel your heart break a little at the pain in his voice.

"God, I thought you were fucking dead..." His voice cracks a little this time and his arms wrap around your waist tight, too tight but you don't say a thing. You're happy to just let him squeeze the life out of you if it makes him feel even a little bit better. "They...they got in my head, made me see things...and all I could think about was that I never got the chance to tell you."

"Tell me what?" You ask and you think your voice comes out a bit strained because he immediately loosens his grip.

"That I'm fucking in love with you," He forces out, voice rough with emotion as he shifts a little so that he's looking down at you.

Your heart fucking stops at his words and all you can do is just stare up at him like a complete fool. Cheeks flushing bright red and eyes wide as you stammer and choke on 16 different failed attempts at speech.

He loves you. No. He's in love with you.

"I thought you were dead and all I could think about was that you didn't know I loved you." He tells you, voice softening some as his eyes scan over your face. "All I wanted to fucking do was hold you and kiss you and just fucking touch you again and I know that's so fucking selfish of me but...fuck."

"You...love me?" Your voice comes out all meek and unsure as you look up at him. You're not even sure if your heart has started beating again because it feels like you could, very well, drop dead at any fucking second.

"Of course I do you fucking idiot." Bucky laughs and the sound is utterly heart wrenching to you. He tries to smile but it just looks so fucking sad that you want to cry.

And maybe he's right and you are a fucking idiot because you can't think of anything to say. You want to tell him you love him too but the words won't come up, they stick in the back of your throat and make you choke. All you can manage is to reach out, grab his face, and pull it down to yours in a pathetic excuse for a kiss.

He kisses you back instantly, taking control of the kiss, somehow calmer than you. His lips are soft and sweet against yours and nowhere near as clunky and uncoordinated as you but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest. He smiles a little against your near frantic lips, one hand coming up to cradle the side of your face.

It's not your first kiss, not even close, but you're so clumsy with it that it damn near feels like it. He hums against your lips like it's the best damn kiss he's ever had, strokes his thumb over your cheek and laughs when your teeth hit his.

You think he'll pull away, you would if you were him, but he doesn't. If anything he kisses you a bit harder, trying to take control of the kiss and guide your lips to work with his and it works wonders, you practically melt into it. He makes a soft, pleased sound in the back of his throat when you finally relax and then his tongue slides over your bottom lip and you melt all over again.

You've never been the biggest fan of tongue kissing, it's always just so wet and slimy and forceful. But there's something about the way Bucky's tongue slides so so softly across your bottom lip that has you parting your lips without a second thought. And you don't fucking regret it at all.

It doesn't feel all slimy and gross like you're used to. His tongue is soft and wet and there's a faint hint of sweet mint as he kisses you. One of his hands squeezes at your waist under your shirt and he fucking groans like kissing you is the best thing he's ever experienced.

He kisses you until you're both breathless, until your lips are raw and swollen and slick with spit.

His forehead presses against yours and his voice comes out all hoarse and raspy as he says, "Fuck, I could kiss you for fucking ever,"

You laugh at that and the noise is so soft and sweet that it makes his breath hitch. You flutter your eyes open, thumbs stroking at the side of his neck as you look up at his flushed face.

"I love you too," You whisper and God, the way he smiles sends a jolt of warm heat through your body. "I didn't say it earlier, but I do. I really fucking do."

[defectiveporcelaindoll]

Chapter 1: The Manuscript

“He thought about how they said-

Since she was wise beyond her years everything had been above board. Now he wasn’t sure…”

series masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader

summary: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life.

genre: slow-burn romance?

cw: age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is 24), a couple y/n’s (I’m sorry, I know I’m sick of it too.), fake marriage, possibly eventual smut in later parts we’ll see, female reader she/her pronouns, bad writing! lemme know if I missed anything! And as always, lemme know what you think!

wordcount: 1.3k

“The professor said the write what you know”

Spencer sat at his desk, anxiously scribbling away at a case file that he knew he simply wasn’t ready to hand over just yet. Not ready to let go or say goodbye. The office was deserted with the exception of Emily still fussing around in her office like she always was these days, just like Hotch before her, and Gideon before him. Back in the days when he was the youngest member of the team— god how things had changed.

“Looking backward might be the only way to move forward-”

six months prior:

"Come on, Em. She’s too young. I’d hardly say she has any real-life experience, and as helpful as she’s been, she certainly doesn’t have the field experience. And you want to drop her into an undercover operation at a university thousands of miles away? I just can’t logically wrap my mind around how you think this is our best option,” Spencer sighed, anxiously pacing the length of Emily’s office. Maybe it was the lights, but more likely it was the outlandish plans being laid before him that were bringing on the all-too-familiar throb of a migraine.

Emily cleared her throat, glancing up at Spencer with a tight-lipped, not-quite smile. “If you would let me finish, I wouldn’t be sending her alone. I’d be sending her with you. The unsub—or rather, unsubs—are targeting couples where the man,” she pointed to him, eyes widening as if to say keep up, “in the relationship comes from a position of power above the woman.” She wildly waved her hand toward the door, motioning to the woman sitting just outside the office.

“You’d be posing as a professor, which technically isn’t anything new for you. Though we might have to rub a little dirt on your good name.” She shrugged, glancing back down to shuffle through the pile of files on her desk until she found the one she was looking for, holding it out for Spencer. “A handsome professor and his new, albeit young, ex-TA of a wife... forced to move after your relationship went public. Tragic.” She quirked a brow, offering Spencer a playful smirk. He did not return it, instead rolling his eyes as he thumbed through the file containing what could be his life for the next couple of months.

“Look, if we place you both at the university, she’ll fit in with the students, you’ll fit in with the professors, and now we have eyes and ears everywhere we need them. It’s logical enough, Spencer, and she’s already agreed as long as you’re up for it.”

There was a long pause as Spencer’s mind ran wild, figuring the probability of everything that could and likely would go wrong if he agreed to this plan.

“Look, we’ll even count this towards thirty days of teaching if that sweetens the deal at all?” Prentiss let out an exhausted sigh. Clearly, this was her only option, and everyone else, even the higher-ups, had approved this plan. It all now sat on Spencer’s shoulders. All he needed to do was agree.

“Fine…” he mumbled, his palm digging into his eye socket briefly trying to dull the growing pain behind his eyes. If Prentiss noticed, she chose not to address it. “Great! See, maybe it’ll be good for you? The faculty housing looks nice-ish..? And you’ve gotta admit, Y/N is sweet. I think she’ll learn a lot from you.”

Before Emily could finish her statement, Spencer turned on his heels, stalking out of the Unit Chief's office past the probie, her doe eyes fixed on him like he was a predator. Her gaze startled him in a way that sent him tripping over his own feet. He quickly righted himself, not daring to glance back at the younger agent on his way to the kitchenette.

An hour and several cups of coffee later, Spencer Reid found himself at the round table, sitting perfectly still as his breath caught in his lungs, watching the young woman in front of him sign her name on the dotted line. It’s official; Doctor Spencer Reid is officially a married man—sort of.

It felt so absurd, having to sign a marriage license. Though, logically, he understood. If they were using Spencer’s name and reputation as a backbone for this assignment, there should be a paper trail. At least when it came to this, he knew Penelope could fabricate anything and everything else they might need, but this silly piece of paper, declaring them man and wife—that was free and public information that needed to be real.

“So…” Y/N's voice was soft as it attempted to cut through the heavy weight of the awkward atmosphere. She fidgeted, tapping the pen against the table.

Spencer cleared his throat, eyes raking over her as the voice in his head told him once again that this was an awful idea, that she was too young, that she had no field experience, and there were far too many ways this could all go south. He tried his best to shake them off. “If you don’t mind me asking, I don’t mean this to be rude. I was a young agent—actually one of the youngest agents the BAU has ever had—” he caught himself in his ramble, his eyes searching her face for any kind of discomfort before blinking harder than necessary in an attempt to focus. “Sorry—uh, how old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’ll be twenty-five in October… so twenty-four.”

"Right..." he chuckled, shaking his head, "that means...w-when you were born I already had two PhDs and was nearly finished with my third."

She groaned, a slight blush covering her cheeks as she fought the embarrassed grin threatening to take over her lips. “Doctor Reid—”

“Spencer.” He cut her off, offering a tight-lipped smile. “I—Uh… you can just call me Spencer. I don’t think couples typically use such formality when they’re addressing each other…”

“I guess you’re right,” she said, offering a little nod. “Spencer,” his name felt too personal on her lips, “I—” a rosy blush creeping up her neck as her mind went completely blank, every thought she’d ever had lost in the warm glow of his golden eyes.

As if on cue, Emily entered the room, a smirk on her lips as she observed the younger, seemingly awestruck agent gawking at her favorite genius. “Hope I’m not interrupting, but I thought these might be useful?” She shrugged, placing a velvet box down beside Spencer before sliding the other across the table to fall into the younger woman’s lap. “Congratulations. I now pronounce you man and wife or whatever they say—beware, Penelope is likely going to throw rice or glitter or whatever she found in her desk at you as you walk out of this room. You’ve been warned. And I’d say kiss the bride, but frankly, I don’t want to see that. Wheels up in thirty.”

With that, she offered the new couple a nod before retreating back out of the conference room, back to her office, leaving them to open the velvet boxes. The rings were simple, nothing too flashy, like something you’d expect a professor to be able to afford without breaking the bank.

“Right…” Spencer said, sliding his own ring onto his finger before rising to his feet, his fingers awkwardly clenching and flexing at the unfamiliar weight. “Maybe if we don’t leave together, Garcia won’t ambush us.” He turned towards the door, hesitating a moment to glance back at the woman he could now call his wife. “Unless—unless you’re ready to go… we could, uh, head out together?”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” Y/N nodded quickly, jumping to her feet as she organized the pile of papers back into their folders and into her bag. She crossed the room, stopping beside Spencer. She glanced up at him, her own ring feeling heavy on her finger as she hesitantly reached out, offering him her hand. He looked at her for a moment, his eyes going back and forth between her waiting palm and her eyes before reluctantly accepting the offer.

“Shall we, Mrs. Reid?”

“Now and then he re-reads the manuscript. Of the entire torrid affair~”

Chapter II: Guilty as Sin

Thanks for being interested in my silly little concept 🩵

@flowerpott1978 @olives-and-sunshine

[rdr2xreader]

“There’s no denying any longer. He likes to think about you. Mainly about how quick he could get you to scream his name and forget everyone else.”

Rating: NSFW, Smut

CW: Low Honor Arthur, dirty thoughts, jacking off, gender neutral reader, top!Arthur Morgan, bottom!reader

Ship: Arthur Morgan/Reader

Arthur Morgan does not do romance.

Not after his failed relationship with Mary, who broke his heart to marry some guy her father actually approved of.

He took a turn after that, admittedly, having one night stands with anyone that glanced his way to fill the hole she left behind and getting drunk off his ass.

He robbed and killed as he saw fit.

Unhinged, Dutch called him. Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Who was Dutch to judge anyways?

The pattern continued— getting drunk followed by a one night stand, followed by robbing and killing in the morning— until Hosea stumbled back into camp with you in tow.

“Nearly killed me,” Hosea had laughed. You managed to rob him, nearly killed him, and he liked you enough to bring you back to camp.

Dutch liked you, too. Everyone did.

Expect for Arthur.

You’d annoy him into bringing you along for jobs, to hunt, to go to town when camp got too stuffy. You wouldn’t leave him alone for whatever reason. In doing so, you forced him to break his usual pattern, but his attitude didn’t change.

He was still angry, but he didn’t kill innocent people and didn’t get so drunk and never spent a night with a woman again. How could he when you followed him like a lost dog?

Even when you weren’t physically there, you sure were mentally. Always watching like a hawk does it prey.

He got pent up after a while, used to having shameless hookups weekly, and found himself unable to take it any longer after losing his shit at Marston after a job gone wrong. He made camp hidden within the trees where nobody would find him and dealt with the issue himself.

He tried picturing a random woman as he wrapped his hand around his cock; nothing. He tried picturing some girls from the gang (Abigail, Molly, Mary-Beth, Sadie even!), and even that didn’t work.

Until his mind wandered to you.

His cock twitched in his hand as he thought about what he could do in order to shut you up and to leave him alone. Unwillingly, his hand started to jerk faster as he got into it.

He’d picture fucking your mouth deep and rough, making you take his cock all the way. And maybe he pictured you swallowing his seed like it was the best thing you ever tasted. Then he’d fuck you properly; slow at first, make you beg and plead for more before transitioning into a much more faster and rougher style.

In short, you’d forget your name. Forget everyone else existed but him.

Arthur grunted, spilling in his hand.

There’s no denying any longer.

He likes to think about you. Mainly about how quickly he could get you to scream his name and forget everyone else.

He wondered if you’d be interested in a benefits relationship since you won’t stop following him.

[calisources]

𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences were taken from different sources about romance, marriage and specially arranged marriage and what that entails. Mentions of affairs, mistresses, wedding ceremonies and medieval talks of what marriage entails follow. Change names, pronouns and locations however you see fit.

Marriage is a marriage, whether it is arranged or not. Both necessitate the same level of dedication.

It’s not an option to be best friends with your life partner; it’s a requirement for a firm foundation in a long-term relationship.

Arranged marriage is not always a bed of roses, but it is possible to achieve with love and faith.

It’s different for women, isn’t it? They have no choice where they go. They grow up in a prison and then get married into one.

Is there anything more courageous/stupid than saying yes to spend your life with someone you have no idea about?

The country was as much of a mystery to me as the man I had married.

One day you’ll be in love with me.

You could be a titled lady. 

I have avoided the fate my father had planned for me. Surely it is I who has won, not he.

I do not care about power and wealth, father. I want to marry for love.

But if you were matched, what do you think she'd be like?

We're supposed to be unable to keep our hands off of each other. 

In this case the time is not so important for me, the person asking for commitment is.

We are trapped by convention and must marry another.

Every good child knows: duty before your heart's desire.

I am to be a bride, but whose? 

I married you to stop the bloodshed, and you keep killing. When will it be enough- when?

I found out soon after we met that Leah’s father had promised her in marriage to some young Pole.

If I ever get into an arranged marriage, I want it to be like theirs.

Arranged marriages require effort; constantly and every day. And where there is love, you want to make these efforts.

A successful arranged marriage can help climb the biggest mountain and build the biggest empire.

An arranged marriage is like wine; it tastes good with time.

You will marry him and do your duty to your House.

You are my daughter and you will do as I say. End of discussion.

Love? What does love have to do with marriage?

He'll honour his duty to family and swallow it.

I was three when my parents promised me. When a deal was struck. 

 So I was raised to be his wife. I was taught my favorite color was gold because his favorite color was gold. I was told my favorite foods were his favorite foods

I never thought what it would actually be like to have him... be gone. 

I was raised for him, and now I am... new. I am brand-new. And I do not even know how to breathe air he does not exhale.

A bride at her second marriage does not wear a veil. She wants to see what she is getting.

Marriage is a financial contract; I have enough contracts already.

The dowry, not the wife, is the object of attraction.

Arranged marriages work like this. The girl is hardly asked and is expected to follow whatever her parents deem fit.

Marry, that marry is the very theme I came to talk of.

Maybe she'll be beautiful. Maybe she'll be rich. As long as she brings swords and men.

Perhaps love is a minor madness.

It doesn't matter who the seed is. The important thing is that it has a place in your womb.

Her maidenhood will seal an alliance and must be kept safe.

Every married woman knows a man can have mistresses and we must look the other way.

All I ask is, that you do not cast me aside. Have mistresses and lovers as you please, but confide in me as I am to be your wife.

A husband’s first and foremost job in a marriage is to protect and love his wife.

Touching without looking had been incredibly arousing.

In my opinion, most marriages are based either on money or the fear of being alone.

I want you in every way there is to want. I want you in any way you choose to share.

I'm free to do with my wife as I fucking please.

The marriage of convenience lasts until you become an inconvenience.

Ours is a marriage of convenience and nothing more.

From now on, you're sleeping in our room. There's no chance in hell I'm letting you sleep far away from me again.

You agreed to this marriage and didn’t even dare to ask my opinion on the matter.

You're going to bend, and so am I. We're going to compromise, negotiate, and distract each other.

Being together means our priorities are going to change.

Men marry because they are tired; women, because they are curious: both are disappointed.

I don't think I am likely to marry, Harry. I am much too in love.

It is certainly romantic to be in love, but there's nothing romantic about a definite proposal.

They are royals, whoever they marry is not their choice but who is better for the crown.

That is a match made in a boardroom.

Once you are wed to another, you will forget me. 

I will marry a man who desires me but I have no interest in. 

I will not be a secret kept in shadows. Once you are wed, I will leave.

How can I marry them, when I am in love with another? It is not fair to them, that I think of you when I’m with them.

Ever since I met you, no one else has been worth thinking about.

Behave yourself, out here, we are wed and what you do, reflects on me.

You are being sold like a mare and do not care.

Once I bore him a son, he shall be happy, I know it.

We hate one another but for peace, we must wed. At least, let us enjoy this part of the contract.

I am doing this for my family and for the terms you offer.

A marriage is simply an alliance.

All will be well, love can be found in a marriage. If not love, at least, good company. 

Do your duty and give him sons.  That’s all men want.

I will not be paraded around in a bedding ceremony. I will wed them and bed them, but I will not be humiliated. 

You think this title gives me power, but you forget, I am a woman.

I am lucky enough to have options. None who please me but at least, I can choose one.

Come to bed now, husband. It is our wedding night, after all.

[cool-fancier]

Unwritten Desires

Synopsis: Jennie Kim ruled high school—and your heart, though she didn't know it. A new friendship ignites jealousy, unraveling hidden feelings in this slow-burn romance.

Word Count: 4.7K

High school was nothing like you imagined. Instead of the bustling social life others seemed to have, you found solace in the quiet corners of the library, your head often buried in books. Being a nerd didn't bother you much, but it did make you a target. And at the top of that list of tormentors was Jennie Kim, the queen bee of the school. With her perfect looks, sharp wit, and magnetic personality, she ruled the school alongside her close-knit group of friends: Jisoo, Rosé, and Lisa.

Jennie's attention on you began almost as soon as you set foot in Northbridge High. Maybe it was the way you kept to yourself, or the fact that you didn't care about fitting into the social hierarchy that made you an easy target. Whatever it was, Jennie made sure you knew your place. Her friends joined in too, but it was Jennie's taunts that cut the deepest.

"Still hiding behind your books, loser?" Jennie would sneer as she passed by you in the hallways, her friends giggling behind her.

You tried your best to ignore her, to focus on your studies and pretend that her words didn't sting. But it wasn't easy, especially when Jennie seemed to take pleasure in getting under your skin. There were days when you wanted to snap back, to tell her off, but something always held you back.

Despite how much you tried to hate her, there was something about Jennie that fascinated you. It was an inexplicable pull, something you couldn't quite put your finger on. You loathed the way she treated you, but at the same time, you found yourself thinking about her more than you wanted to admit. It was confusing and frustrating, and it only made you more determined to keep your distance.

— — — — —

As the school year dragged on, you began to feel more isolated than ever. But then, halfway through the semester, a new student arrived. Mina was different from anyone you had met before. She was quiet, but not in the shy way you were; there was a quiet confidence about her that drew people in. She didn't care about the school's social hierarchy, and unlike everyone else, she wasn't afraid to approach you.

"Mind if I sit here?" Mina asked one day in the library, her voice soft but steady.

You looked up from your book, surprised to find her standing there. "Uh, sure. Go ahead."

Mina smiled and took the seat across from you, setting her bag down on the table. "I'm Mina," she introduced herself, extending a hand.

"Y/n," you replied, shaking her hand.

"I've seen you around," Mina said, her tone conversational. "You're always reading. What's the book this time?"

You glanced down at the book in your hands. "Pride and Prejudice. It's, um, one of my favorites."

"Classic," Mina said with an approving nod. "I love that one too. Elizabeth Bennet is such a strong character."

You smiled, relaxing a little. It was rare to find someone who shared your love of classic literature, and even rarer to find someone who didn't judge you for it.

As the days went by, you and Mina grew closer. She started sitting with you at lunch, and soon, you found yourself part of a small, tight-knit group that included Mina's friends, Yeri and Chaeyoung. For the first time in a long while, you felt like you belonged somewhere.

But not everyone was happy about your newfound friendship. Jennie's attitude toward you grew colder, her taunts more biting. It was as if she couldn't stand the fact that you were finding happiness, that you were no longer the lonely outcast she had always known you to be.

You tried to ignore Jennie's behavior, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. She seemed to be everywhere, watching you with a gaze that was both curious and hostile. There was a new intensity in her eyes, something you couldn't quite decipher.

— — — — —

One afternoon, you and Mina were sitting together in the cafeteria, discussing your latest assignment for English class. The conversation flowed easily, and for once, you felt at ease in a place that had always made you anxious. But that sense of peace was shattered when Jennie and her friends approached your table.

"Well, well," Jennie drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Look who's all chummy with the new girl. Guess the nerd finally found someone who can tolerate them."

Mina frowned, her eyes narrowing as she looked up at Jennie. "What's your problem, Jennie?"

Jennie's gaze shifted to Mina, and for a moment, you thought you saw something like jealousy flicker in her eyes. But then her expression hardened, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"No problem," Jennie said coolly. "Just surprised that someone like you would waste your time with a loser like Y/n."

Mina's frown deepened, but she didn't back down. "She's not a loser. She's smart and kind, and if you actually took the time to get to know her, you'd see that."

Jennie's friends exchanged uneasy glances, clearly sensing the tension in the air. Jisoo stepped forward, placing a hand on Jennie's arm. "Come on, Jennie. Let's just go."

But Jennie didn't move. She continued to stare at you, her eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your heart race. You couldn't tell what she was thinking, but there was something in her gaze that made you feel like there was more going on beneath the surface.

Finally, Jennie turned away, her expression unreadable. "Whatever," she muttered, before walking off, her friends trailing behind her.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you had been holding, your hands trembling slightly. Mina reached over and placed a comforting hand on your arm.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently.

"Yeah," you replied, though you weren't entirely sure if that was true. "Thanks for standing up for me."

"Of course," Mina said with a reassuring smile. "No one deserves to be treated like that."

You smiled back, grateful for Mina's support. But even as you tried to focus on your conversation with her, your thoughts kept drifting back to Jennie. There was something about her behavior that didn't add up, something that made you question everything you thought you knew about her.

— — — — —

The days passed in a blur of conflicting emotions. You found yourself thinking about Jennie more than you wanted to admit, trying to make sense of the way she made you feel. On one hand, she was your bully, the person who had made your life miserable for years. But on the other hand, there was something about her that drew you in—something you couldn't quite explain.

Meanwhile, Jennie was struggling with her own feelings. She hated the way she had reacted to seeing you with Mina—hated the jealousy that burned inside her, the way she couldn't stop thinking about you. She tried to bury those feelings, to push them aside and focus on maintaining her queen bee status, but it was getting harder every day.

Her friends noticed the change in her too.

"You've been acting weird lately," Rosé commented one day as they lounged in Jennie's bedroom. "Is everything okay?"

Jennie shook her head, not wanting to admit what was really bothering her. "I'm fine."

But Lisa wasn't convinced. "Is it Y/n?" she asked, her voice gentle. "You've been watching her a lot more than usual."

Jennie stiffened, her heart skipping a beat. "I'm just making sure she knows her place."

Jisoo frowned, leaning in closer. "Jen, maybe it's time to back off a little. You're acting like... I don't know, like you're jealous or something."

"I'm not jealous," Jennie snapped, but the words felt hollow even as she said them.

Her friends exchanged knowing looks, and Rosé sighed. "It's okay if you are, you know. You don't have to pretend around us."

Jennie's defenses wavered, and for a moment, she considered telling them the truth—telling them how she really felt. But the fear of what that would mean, of what might happen if she admitted it out loud, held her back. "I'm not pretending," she insisted, but her voice was softer now, less certain.

"Jen, you know we're here for you," Jisoo said gently. "You don't have to keep everything bottled up. If you like her... if you want something different, that's okay."

Jennie looked down at her hands, feeling the weight of their words. She knew they were right—knew that she couldn't keep running from her feelings forever. But the idea of actually doing something about it, of being vulnerable in front of you, was terrifying.

"I just don't know if I can," Jennie admitted quietly. "I've spent so long being this person... I don't know how to be anything else."

Jisoo reached over and placed a comforting hand on Jennie's arm. "You don't have to figure it all out at once," she said softly. "Just take it one step at a time. And if you need help... we've got your back."

Jennie nodded, though she still felt uncertain. She knew she couldn't keep going the way she had been, but she wasn't sure she was ready to take the leap either.

— — — — —

One afternoon, after a particularly stressful day of classes, you decided to head to your usual spot in the library. It was quiet there, and you needed some time to clear your head. But as you rounded the corner, you were surprised to find Jennie sitting at one of the tables, her head in her hands.

You hesitated, not sure whether to approach her or leave her be. But something in Jennie's posture—something in the way she was sitting so still, her shoulders tense—made you pause.

"Jennie?" you asked softly, breaking the silence.

Jennie looked up, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you thick with unspoken tension.

"What do you want?" Jennie finally asked, her voice cold.

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. "I just... you seemed upset."

Jennie's expression flickered, and for a moment, you thought she might actually open up to you. But then she shook her head and looked away. "It's none of your business."

You nodded, feeling a pang of hurt. "Right. Sorry."

But as you turned to leave, Jennie's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Wait," she said, her tone softer now. "Can we talk?"

You turned back to face her, your heart pounding in your chest. "About what?"

Jennie hesitated, her eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words. "About... us. About everything."

The air between you seemed to thicken, and you felt a knot form in your stomach. "Okay," you said quietly, taking a seat across from her.

Jennie took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she spoke. "I know I've been awful to you. And I'm sorry for that. But there's something I need to tell you, and I don't know how else to say it."

You frowned, unsure of where this was going. "What is it?"

Jennie looked down at her hands, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think I like you."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with emotion. You stared at Jennie, unable to process what she had just said. "What?"

Jennie bit her lip, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. I've been so scared to admit it, even to myself. But I can't keep pretending anymore."

Your mind was racing, a thousand thoughts swirling in your head. "But you've been so mean to me," you said, your voice trembling. "Why... why would you do that if you liked me?"

Jennie looked up at you, her eyes filled with regret. "Because I didn't know how to deal with it. I was scared, and I took it out on you because... because I didn't want to face how I really felt."

You felt a wave of emotions wash over you—anger, confusion, hurt. But underneath it all, there was something else—something that had been buried deep inside you for so long.

"I don't understand," you said softly. "You made me feel like I was nothing."

"I know," Jennie whispered, a tear finally slipping down her cheek. "And I'm so sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me, but... I had to tell you the truth."

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the silence between you heavy with unresolved emotions. Then, before you could stop yourself, you reached across the table and wiped the tear from Jennie's cheek.

Jennie looked up at you, her eyes wide with surprise and something else—hope, maybe?

"I don't know what to say," you admitted, your voice soft. "I'm still hurt, but... I can see that you're hurting too."

Jennie swallowed hard, her breath hitching. "I am. And I don't know how to make it right, but... I want to try. If you'll let me."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you considered her words. There was a part of you that wanted to run, to protect yourself from the possibility of getting hurt again. But there was another part of you—a part that you hadn't fully acknowledged until now—that wanted to give her a chance.

"I don't know if I can trust you," you said honestly. "But I'm willing to see where this goes."

Jennie's eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I promise I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you."

— — — — —

The days that followed were a blur of new experiences and emotions. You and Jennie began to spend more time together, slowly breaking down the walls that had been built between you. It wasn't easy—there were moments when the old hurts resurfaced, when you questioned whether you were making the right decision. But Jennie was patient, and for the first time, she let herself be vulnerable with you.

One evening, after a long day of classes, you found yourselves alone in Jennie's room. Her friends were out, giving the two of you some much-needed privacy. You had been talking for hours, the conversation flowing easily between you as you explored the complexities of your relationship.

"I never thought I'd see this side of you," you admitted as you sat on her bed, your back against the headboard. "You're so different from the person I thought you were."

Jennie sat beside you, her legs tucked under her. "I guess I've always been scared to show this side of myself. It's easier to be the queen bee, to keep everyone at arm's length."

"But it's lonely," you said softly, understanding dawning on you.

Jennie nodded, her gaze dropping to her hands. "Yeah, it is."

You reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "You don't have to be lonely anymore. You have me now."

Jennie looked up at you, her eyes shining with emotion. "I don't deserve you."

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "Maybe not, but that's not for you to decide. I want to be here, Jennie. I want to see where this goes."

Jennie's eyes were locked onto yours, a mix of vulnerability and desire swirling within them. The air between you felt heavy, thick with unspoken feelings and anticipation. Slowly, Jennie's hand slid up your side, her touch sending a shiver down your spine as she explored the curve of your waist, her fingertips brushing lightly over your skin.

"Can I kiss you?" Jennie whispered, her voice soft yet laden with need. Her breath ghosted over your lips, and the intensity in her gaze made your heart race.

"Yes," you replied, barely able to speak as the tension between you grew almost unbearable.

Jennie's lips met yours in a slow, tentative kiss, her movements gentle as if she were savoring the moment. You could feel her hesitance, the way she was holding back, but the longer the kiss lasted, the more it deepened. Your hands found their way to Jennie's shoulders, pulling her closer as you pressed your body against hers, craving more of her touch.

Jennie's hand slid up your back, sending a wave of warmth through you as she kissed you with more urgency. She carefully pushed you down onto the bed, her body following yours until she was hovering above you, her lips never leaving yours. The sensation of her weight on top of you made you gasp, your mind spinning as her presence consumed you.

"Is this okay?" Jennie asked breathlessly, her voice tinged with both desire and uncertainty as she pulled back slightly to look into your eyes.

You nodded, unable to form words as you looked up at her. "Yes... please," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Jennie's lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes darkening with desire. She leaned down to kiss you again, her mouth moving against yours with a newfound intensity. Her hand trailed down your side, her fingers lightly grazing your skin as she found the hem of your shirt and slowly began to lift it.

You raised your arms to help her remove your shirt, your breath catching in your throat as Jennie tossed it aside. She paused for a moment, her eyes roaming over your now exposed skin, admiration and desire evident in her gaze.

"You're so beautiful," Jennie murmured, her voice filled with awe as she took in the sight of you.

You blushed under her intense gaze, but before you could respond, Jennie leaned down to press a trail of kisses along your collarbone, her lips warm and soft against your skin. She moved slowly, deliberately, as if she wanted to memorize every inch of you. Her kisses grew more heated as she made her way lower, her hands gently caressing your sides as she explored your body with both her lips and her touch.

When Jennie reached the clasp of your bra, she hesitated, looking up at you for permission. You nodded, your heart racing as she skillfully unhooked it and slid the straps down your arms, her fingers brushing over your skin in a way that made you shiver with anticipation. Once the bra was off, Jennie's gaze lingered on your bare chest for a moment before she leaned down to capture one of your nipples in her mouth.

The sensation of Jennie's warm mouth on your sensitive skin sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, and you couldn't hold back the soft moan that escaped your lips. Jennie's tongue flicked over your nipple, her teeth gently grazing it as she sucked, drawing more moans from you as you arched your back, pressing yourself into her touch.

Jennie's hand moved to your other breast, her fingers lightly pinching and rolling your nipple as she continued to lavish attention on your chest. The dual sensations were almost overwhelming, a mixture of pleasure and need building inside you with every touch, every kiss.

"Jennie..." you breathed, your voice trembling as you felt the tension in your body coil tighter and tighter, desperate for release.

Jennie lifted her head, her lips curving into a smile as she looked down at you. "I want to make you feel good," she whispered, her voice thick with desire as she kissed her way down your body, her lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

When she reached the waistband of your jeans, Jennie paused again, her fingers lightly brushing over the fabric as she looked up at you. "Is this okay?" she asked softly, her eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nodded quickly, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt your arousal growing more intense by the second. "Yes... please, Jennie," you whispered, your voice laced with need.

Jennie's hands were steady as she unbuttoned your jeans, slowly pulling down the zipper and sliding the fabric down your legs. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the sensation of Jennie's hands on you, her touch light and teasing as she traced the waistband of your panties.

She looked up at you again, her eyes dark with desire as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly slid them down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to her. The vulnerability of the moment was overwhelming, but Jennie's gaze was filled with nothing but admiration and longing as she took in the sight of you.

"You're perfect," Jennie whispered, her voice filled with reverence as she gently spread your legs, positioning herself between them. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh, her breath warm against your skin as she made her way closer to your core.

When Jennie's mouth finally met your most sensitive spot, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, your hands instinctively reaching down to tangle in her hair as the pleasure washed over you. Jennie's tongue moved expertly, flicking and swirling over your clit with just the right amount of pressure, driving you wild with need.

Jennie's hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as she devoured you with her mouth, her tongue and lips working in perfect harmony to bring you closer and closer to the edge. The pleasure was intense, almost too much to bear, and you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, your mind spinning as Jennie continued to pleasure you.

"Jennie... oh god, Jennie," you moaned, your voice barely audible as you felt the tension inside you coil tighter and tighter, building toward a release that was just out of reach.

Jennie hummed in response, the vibrations sending a new wave of pleasure through your body as she increased her pace, her tongue moving faster, more insistently against your clit. She was relentless, her mouth and hands working together to push you closer and closer to the brink.

The pleasure built higher and higher, the knot in your core tightening until it was almost unbearable. You were right on the edge, teetering on the brink of release, and all it took was one more flick of Jennie's tongue, one more gentle squeeze of her hands, to send you tumbling over.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body trembling as the pleasure overwhelmed you. Jennie didn't stop, her mouth still working against you as she guided you through the waves of your climax, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were spent, your body going limp against the bed.

When it was over, Jennie pulled back slightly, her lips and chin glistening as she looked up at you with a satisfied smile. She climbed back up your body, her hands gentle as she pulled you into her arms, holding you close as you both caught your breath.

"You're incredible," Jennie whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as she gently stroked your hair.

You smiled weakly, still trying to catch your breath as you looked up at her. "That was... amazing," you whispered, your voice filled with awe.

Jennie's smile widened, and she leaned down to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," she murmured against your lips, her voice filled with affection.

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at her words, and you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her closer as you pressed your forehead against hers. "I think I'm falling for you, Jennie," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jennie's breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide with surprise as she looked down at you. "You are?" she asked softly, her voice trembling with emotion.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked into her eyes. "Yes. I know it's complicated, and I'm still hurt by what happened in the past... but I want to see where this goes."

Jennie's eyes filled with tears, and she pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I want that too," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I promise I'll make it up to you, [Your Name]. I'll spend every day making sure you know how much you mean to me."

— — — — —

As the afterglow settled around you both, a warm, comfortable silence filled the room. Jennie gently stroked your hair, her fingers weaving through the strands as she looked down at you with a mix of affection and something playful dancing in her eyes.

"You know," Jennie began, her voice soft but laced with a teasing tone, "I might still have to bully you from time to time."

You blinked up at her, surprised by the comment, but the smile tugging at her lips reassured you that she wasn't serious. "What?" you asked, a small, amused smile creeping onto your face. "Are you saying you haven't gotten it out of your system yet?"

Jennie chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. "Maybe not entirely," she teased, her voice playful. "I mean, I can't let you forget who's in charge around here."

You rolled your eyes, but your smile only grew wider as you played along. "Oh, really? And what exactly do you plan on doing to remind me?"

Jennie's grin widened as she dipped her head, her lips brushing against your ear. "Maybe I'll have to keep you on your toes," she whispered, her voice low and teasing. "A little teasing here, a little flirting there... just to make sure you don't get too comfortable."

You shivered at the way her breath tickled your ear, the playful promise in her tone making your heart race. "I'm not sure if I should be excited or worried," you said, your voice tinged with both amusement and a hint of challenge.

Jennie laughed softly, the sound sending a pleasant warmth through your chest. "Maybe a little of both," she teased, pulling back to look into your eyes. "But don't worry... I'll make sure it's the good kind of bullying."

You couldn't help but laugh at her words, your heart swelling with affection for this side of Jennie that you were just beginning to discover. "As long as it comes with some of this," you said, gesturing to the two of you tangled up together in bed, "I think I can handle it."

Jennie's smile softened, and she leaned down to capture your lips in a tender kiss. "Deal," she murmured against your lips, her voice filled with warmth. "But only because I really, really like you."

Your heart fluttered at her words, and you pulled her closer, savoring the moment as you kissed her back. "I really like you too, Jennie," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

Jennie beamed at you, her expression so full of happiness that it took your breath away. "Good," she said, her tone still playful but with an underlying seriousness. "Because I'm not letting you go."

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection as you wrapped your arms around her, holding her close. "I wouldn't want you to," you replied softly, feeling a sense of contentment settle over you.

As the two of you lay there, wrapped up in each other's arms, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this unexpected twist of fate had led you to something truly special. And with Jennie by your side—teasing, playful, and full of love—you were ready to embrace whatever the future held.

Jennie shifted slightly, her hand lazily tracing patterns on your skin as she pressed another kiss to your forehead. "You know," she mused, her voice soft, "I think we're going to be okay."

You nodded, feeling the truth of her words settle deep in your heart. "Yeah," you agreed, your voice filled with quiet confidence. "We're going to be just fine."

And as you drifted off to sleep in Jennie's arms, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you'd face them together—with a little teasing, a lot of love, and a future full of possibilities.

[gothwineaunts]

I tried my best to replicate the post that Tumblr ate earlier.

It’s not as good but you'll get the jist I think. :’)  

---

Hi again! I wanted to follow up on my post from yesterday. I’ve been mostly offline since then, and I feel much better now, especially after seeing the thoughtful responses y’all left. Where did you all even come from!? I don’t think I’ve ever posted this account anywhere, haha. But thank you so much. I’m horrendous at taking a damn compliment but I read all the replies and reblogs and I’m just incredibly humbled. You all brought up my mood a lot and highkey made me feel sane again. I’ve been so confused at why everyone in the WEBTOON comments seems to be so mad all the time, it kind of does my head in if I’m being honest.

But please don’t worry about me or Flynn. Or about Nevermore! We’d never change the story to fit what we think the commenters want us to do, for a lot of reasons. The most important of which is. If we had to do that, I think we’d rather just stop making it. What they seem to want is a story we’re not really interested in telling.

Wholesome wlw is a wildly important thing to be able to find if you’re looking for it. That really cannot be overstated. Until very recently, queer characters have been subjected by popular media to a disproportionate amount of anguish and violence. So the concept of seeing two women just, living a safe and fulfilling life together? I get why people want to see that so badly. And there’s so much beautifully written aspirational content for queer audiences out there now, and I’m pleased to death over it. But the thing is, it’s just not what we’re making.

Nevermore was always intended to be a dark gothicky romance with horror elements. Like Wuthering Heights, or Phantom of the Opera. Because those were the stories that always inspired us when we were young. Bloodsoaked stories of melodrama, intrigue, grief, and passion. Those stories would captivate me and get me asking all kinds of questions. Why can’t the Phantom be a beautiful woman? Why does Christine have the agency of a desk lamp? Why can’t sapphics have something cool like this?

So we decided to make it. Nevermore is not a wholesome romance. It doesn’t try to be. The point was never to explore sapphics having a healthy and (heavy air quotes here) “normal” relationship, like heterosexual couples get to have in real life. We already have that, together, Flynn and I. We live it, everyday.  In Nevermore, what we wanted most was to explore a sweeping sapphic romance full of danger, like heterosexual couples get to have in fiction. That’s why we love those kinds of stories so much, because of how divorced they are from the mundanity of real life. They’re fantasies.

I know that I'm preaching to the choir, aha.

But my point is: if you go to a hardware store to order a cake, you’re probably going to be disappointed. If what you crave is aspirational wlw content, there are so many bakeries you can go to that will give you exactly what you’re hoping for, and more. I especially recommend Muted by Miranda Mundt. It’s also on Webtoon, it’s completed, and it’s free to read.

And please know that I’m not saying to stop reading Nevermore, just maybe to adjust your expectations a little bit. We don’t sell cakes here, but I am pretty sure I've got a few 12ft tall skeleton lawn ornaments in the back if you're interested.

[icanseethefuture333]

PAC: What your pretty self needs to hear for Valentine's Day ♡

Your heart's message to you + a message from your secret admirer 💌

They say the truth ain't pretty, but coming from that pretty mouth

The truth is fitting, cause you ain't ever talkin' loud

And you know plenty

Yeah, you know what I'm talkin' about

Cause you just get me

Yeah, you so pretty... ♡

Pile 1:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Girl by Destiny's Child

Far by SZA

I MISS YOU SO BAD by iKON

The Lovers, Seven of Cups, & Three of Cups

So what your heart wishes to tell to you is that there is still love out there. You may have previously gotten over an ex, a past crush, or you are in the process of recovering from a break up. In the song "Far" SZA asks Sadhguru how to deal with rejection, in which he responds, "That's great! If nobody wants you then you're free." You have to look on the bright side of things. You also have to know what your worth is. No one else can define your worth but you. You have to be secure with who you are as a person. No one can love the parts you need to heal from. Once you feel fulfilled with who you are as a person. That is when you can form healthy connection with others. I believe you still are hoping for you and this person to get back together but you are hurting yourself even more by obsessing over this person (was going to say focus but instead I heard obsess). Reflect on your current situation and ask yourself, "What wound is this person triggering in me?". What do you need to move on from? To take care of your heart you should do some self reflection. Journaling and shadow work would help provide some clarity. Your heart asks you to not fall back into old habits. Self love is important for your growth, pile 1!

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Time To Love by Red Velvet

Changes by Jeff Bernat

I Think I'm Falling by KOHH

Wallflower, New Love, & Union

There is a new love coming in for you! This person could be shy and likes to admire you from afar. They could be self conscious about some things about themselves as well. The feelings seem to be mutual here. There could be a new crush that you like and wish to speak to, but are to nervous to ask them out of fear of rejection. Don't fret! Confessing your feelings helps build courage. If the person rejects you, then that just means there isnsomeone else better out there for you. It is not the end of the world just because you got rejected. Have a little more confidence in yourself, you are great, pile 1! Regardless, I see you and this secret admirer actually being intimate. Things could develop into something more serious with this union card. So make sure to be open to this energy and give them a chance at love ♡

Pile 2:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Mine by Slayyyter

ANTIFRAGILE by LE SSERAFIM

Post To Be by Omarion ft. Chris Brown & Jhené Aiko

Four of Cups, Eight of Wands, & The Fool

Your heart does not want to be tied down at the moment! I believe it has plenty of love to give lol. You also have no problem with turning people down or vice versa. You are looking for a fling and just wish to have a casual relationship! You could have a lot of options in love and would like to explore things romantically, maybe even sexually. Your heart suggests that you focus on your happiness and learn what pleases you. Love does not always have to be serious. Sometimes short lived romances have the best stories to tell! You will be feeling very confident and sexy in your romantic endeavors.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Boys Wanna Be Her by Peaches

No Flex Zone by Rae Sremmurd

STUCK IN MY HEAD by Twice

Open Relationship, Mature Woman, & Fun Times

This secret admirer of yours is honestly hilarious 😭. I kept getting meme songs and I hs to shuffle again to get a proper message. This could be my queer pile as well 🏳️‍🌈. I'm getting Renee Rapp vibes from your secret admirer, Pile 2 😋. They could suit the 'girl crush' aesthetic or if it is someone who identifies as masculine, they have a very pretty face. They are open minded, flirtatious, and exciting to be around. This person wishes to tell you that you are stuck in their head! They find you to be "so fine" 😜! They would like take you out soon. I'm getting it will be a bar date or they will take you dancing at a night club.

Pile 3:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

More Than Enough by Alina Baraz

Bluffin by Brent Faiyaz

Mona Lisa by Naji ft. Monter Booker

Death, Six of Swords, & Six of Pentacles

Oh, pile 3, bless your heart 🥹. You are someone who has such a kind, gentle heart. You have the purest intentions and for that people can tell how geniune you are as a person. You could be selfless and caring towards others. You have so much love to give that it is obvious to others. I don't see any bitterness in your heart and I feel like your heart wishes to tell you how proud it is of you for being able to find forgiveness. You are leaning to let go of the people who have hurt you in the past. The essence of your spirit is so soft and it's very beautiful to witness. Your heart's message to you is that anyone would be lucky to have you in their life. So don't ever feel like you are not enough because you're more than that. You are this cup that is overflowing with love and sincerity.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

At Your Best (You Are Loved) by Aaliyah

Freaky Deaky by Tyga ft. Doja Cat

LOVE by Kendrick Lamar ft. Zacari

Dating, True Love, & True Gem

Your secret admirer absolutely adores you, pile 3. They see your value as a person and they know that there is no one else like you in this world. You have so much love to give and they do as well. I am getting that they want to literally treat you like a princess/princess - just overall royalty. Their have geniune intentions as well and they would like to spoil you this Valentine's day ❤. (Channeled song: Kiss It Better by Rihanna 💋) for a few of you, you and your specific person could be separated. I see that things will turn out for the better soon. So have faith in yourself and in this person for things to work out. They could offer you some sort of proposal, love offer, or a token of their gratitude to show how much they love you. I see things would be passionate, flirty, and romantic for you and your secret admirer 🎆.

Pile 4:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Green Light by Beyoncé

Standing Next To You by Jungkook

God of Music by SEVENTEEN

Two of Pentacles, Page of Wands, & The Magician

You are such an optimistic person, pile 4! You could be someone who often gives advice to others and help others look on the bright side of things. You radiate such positive energy and it makes you a joy to be around. You could be someone who knows what they want and goes after it. You know how to balance your heart with your brain. Intuitive but also logical. People wonder how you are able to turn your ideas into reality. Your heart's message to you is to keep going after your goals and not let anyone distract you from your dreams. As long as you are happy that is all that matters. Your heart also wishes to tell you that whatever makes you light up inside is meant for you. Whatever your heart is set on whether that's a new job, house, etc. You have the ability to manifest whatever you desire.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Phone Me by Che Ecru

Novacane by Frank Ocean

Own It by Drake

Passion, Friendship, & Communication

For some of you, you could be currently in a "situationship" or have a FWB with someone. While for others, your secret admirer is possibly a friend of yours. This person is conflicted on how to approach you. You may receive a text or phone call from them soon where they ask you about your relationship with another. They could ask you how you feel about them or drop hints that they are attracted to you. The ball is in your park, pile 4, if you decide to be more than just friends with this person.

Pile 5:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Girl Like Me by Alexa Demie

Fulfillment? By Kilo Kish

Baddie by IVE

Eight of Cups, Two of Cups, & Seven of Swords

I am getting like "manic pixie dream girl" vibes from you, Pile 2. Something about you is hard to pin point to others. Mysterious but also so enchanting. You know you are someone who is complex but also so beautiful. You have these interesting quirks that makes you stand out and memorable to others. You are comfortable with who you as a person and it could have took you a long time to get to a place of being this self assured. You could have a child like wonder as well and it is admirable to others. You could be questioning what direction to take in life and could find "adulting" very hard but don't give up, pile 5! Everything will be okay in the end. Your heart's message to you is to learn what gives you emotional fulfillment in life. Also to not take shit from no one. What's interesting is your face could look quite sweet but you are actually feisty and have a firey spirit. There is a duality to your personality and its attractive. I am getting like Song Jia, Alexa Demie, Wonyoung, & Taylor Russell vibes from you, pile 5. Your heart wants you to embrace your confidence and focus on the abundance in your future. Do not let people drag you down and dim your light. Your heart believes it is time for some self pampering. Set your standards high in love and know that you are deserving of everything you desire. I also believe it is time to burn bridges with people who no longer serve you. How can you live the life of your dreams if other people only acknowledge the version of yourself that no longer resonates with you? If you wish to be the girl of your dreams, you have to learn to put yourself first.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Lilith by Halsey

Ditto by NewJeans

High Fashion by Roddy Rich ft. Mustard

Triangle, Travel, & Spiritual Growth

What is this Single's Inferno?! You have options, pile 5. You could have more than one secret admirer. You could be observing your current options in love and feeling "Well! Let the best person win☺️!" I see people wanting to fly you out and pay for your trips, oh my🫠. One of the people you will date could be popular or have a well known social status. You give people butterflies and some of you may know what affect you have on people, while some of you are innocent to the fact. You could receive love confessions or you may even already have. I feel like you are the type of person who receives love letters, jewelry, candies, and box of chocolates, if not you are going to be spoiled for this Valentine's day! You could meet your secret admirer(s) while traveling or when going on vacation. Your secret admirer's message to you is that they "like you" and hoping you feel the same 💕. They want to understand your love language and words of affirmations / gift giving could be one of their love languages in particular.

Pile 6:

Your heart's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Rose by Miyeon

Honey Dew by Lion Babe

Chanel by TiaCorine

King of Pentacles, Five of Wands, & Queen of Cups

I feel like you are at odds with your heart and brain right now, pile 6. You seem to feel confused about a decision you have to make. I believe you could think things are "sweeter" in other people's lives but that is not necessarily true. I know sometimes we can want what other people have but if it gets to the point of comparing yourselves to others then its not healthy. You have to remember to be grateful for what you have in life. It's okay to want the finer things, but what are you overlooking when you are doing that? Your heart's message to you is to not worry about what other people are doing in life and instead focus on what makes you great of a person. You are just as lovable, sweet, and beautiful.

Your secret admirer's message to you:

Shufflemancy -

Congratulations by Mac Miller ft. Bilal

Little Things by Sunni Colón

Aura by Mariah The Scientist

Work, Money, & Long Distance

I believe you and this person are already in a relationship. If not, your secret admirer will be the next person you end up in a romantic relationship with. This person could live further away from you and has a high paying job. They prefer to take on a traditional role of a provider. This person could have a hard time discussing their feelings though and shows their love through acts of services. While you, I feel you are more of an emotional person. You both could have a hard time expressing your feelings and thoughts properly to each other, which would cause conflict. Things might be tense for Valentine's Day. You and your secret admirer could have strong feelings for each other, but there needs to be an important conversation had in order for this relationship to progress. Both of you could be disheartened by this but there's hope! Try to appreciate the little things in your relationship and not focus on being the "perfect couple", for that does not exist. Every relationship has its flaws and all that matters is that you and you partner love each other very much. If it's meant to be, it will be, it won't be something you have to force, it'll come naturally.

[ram-bles]

Plsplspls daisuke and reader romance hcs and my soul is yours

gn/transmasc whichever you prefer thank you so much

daisuke x reader | headcanons

part 4:

Romance edition

pay up anon 🫴👈 /j no, bc I have notes about this already and I saw you pop up in my notifs.

⚠️: 🔞 gn pronouns and masc pronouns* used, fluff, nothing explicit but there is implied sex (don't worry, it's optional. I put it at the end so you can skip.)

*bonus transmasc!reader category

🌺 Mentioned in a previous post. You fall first, he falls harder. He doesn't even notice until later on when he's doing the most mundane task and he catches himself smiling - "Oh."- while thinking of you. "Shiiiit."

🌺 The D in Daisuke stands for dense. Dense, dense, dense. To be fair, you guys are close and everything you've done together was seen as platonic. Heavy on was.

"Are you really bros if you don't cuddle to sleep?"

🌺 C'mon. He'll treat this like a romance visual novel game and you are the main and only love interest. It makes him less nervous this way.

🌺 Daisuke - for the life of him - could not use endearments. It makes him cringe. Will most likely call you by nickname or dude/bro (gnc).

"Babe... Baby... Honey— PFFT-" "Daisuke." Last name mouthwashing. Followed by whatever his last name was. You gave him a warning tone. "I can't help it!" He stifles his laughter but it turns into a fit of giggles.

🌺 Best friends to lovers is a perfect trope with him. I feel like the confession will come in naturally. You become best friends, blur the lines of platonic and romantic without realizing it, and the next thing you know, you're dating.

🌺 Experience wise? He's had a few relationships in highschool. Doesn't even know if he considers it as a relationship if he were honest. More-so flings.

⚠️ Implied sex. Ignore if uncomfortable.

🌺 If I were to lean more on to his mature side, then maybe things got too intimate. No promises of what happens next, but surely, you'd both question it. Don't get me wrong though, definitely an each other's firsts situation still.

Your sports watch vibrates on the table side, its buzz louder against the surface it was on. Groggily, you sit up, stretching and flinching at how sore you were before orienting yourself, unconsciously tugging the blanket closer to you. The faint sound of the shower beside the shared room reminds you of the events last night and your brain felt like it was about to shortcircuit, thoughts silencing quickly as you hear the bathroom door open, making you snap your head back up and you felt like having another wire shorting in your brain at the sight, but you push it away for now. "Mornin'!" And he says your name so sweetly, enthusiastically. Your heart ached. "I didn't take too long right? Did you just wake up?" Your silence scared him, even more so when you hung your head low. He calls your name. "Did you not like last night? Ah, fuck- Is anything painful? I'm sorry. We don't have to do this again. I'm s—" "Daisuke?" "Y-Yeah? What's up? Seriously, you're worrying me, dude. Did I hurt you?" "What are we?"

[ Bonus: Transmasc!Reader ]

🌺 Seeing your binder for the first time?

You two were back at your shared quarters. The day had just ended and you just wanted to change into your sleepwear and crash. "Dude, that looks uncomfy. You sure it ain't too tight?" "Nah. I made sure it fit. I have looser ones just incase. Don't worry, Dai." You were about to remove it when you notice him staring. Before this, you've been changing in the bathroom already, and at times he'd just turn away when you tell him to. He only realizes when you haven't moved for awhile and he instantly flinches. "Oh, sorry- turning riiiight now!" "We're dating already... It's okay." Plus, totally normal to see dudes topless. He tilts his head curiously as he watches and it would be a lie if it didn't make you slightly conscious of your appearance, but you trust him. The smitten look he has makes you feel better. His eyes dart down to the small dents on your skin left by the band and his hand twitches. "Can I massage it?" "What? My tits?" He calls out your name in mock frustration before laughing. "Y'know what I mean!" "Yeah, yeah. Make some space on the bed then."

🌺 Probably would love pressing the marks away. Also, he gets to cling onto you while at it so win-win right?

🌺 Top scars?

"Duuuuuude. That's sick as fuck." His head was hanging by the edge of the bed, watching you change while upside down. "Hm?" "The scars. How'd you gettem? Don't look like it's from an accident." "... Surgery?" "Oh?" He stays quiet for a moment trying to piece two and two together. You wait for him with an amused expression. "OHHHHHH." Right, he didn't know. "Still sick as fuck though."

🌺 feeling dysphoric? he already treats you like a king, but hopefully you won't get too overwhelmed with his advances when he notices you feeling down.

"hey, handsome." "pretty boy!"

🌺 if he didn't know you were trans and you tell him, he'd be confused but in a way that's like, "I still love you, y'know. That ain't changin'!"

[ Updates: ]

🪓 i'm working on another ask at the moment and it involves a pilot intern!reader. they req afab!reader but it's difficult for me to write femmes and i usually go for gn or transmasc readers :(( I hope that's alright. I can try to make a separate post and do femme pronouns. What do you guys think?

it's going to be longer than my usual posts so it may take some time. so yeah! hopefully the anon who req it sees this.

That's all, thank you for reading!

[tenswrld]

true romance

popstar!haechan x upcomingartist!reader, angst, fluff

summary: haechan's the world's boyfriend — and yours too, i guess.

word count: 4.1k

listen to: true romance - pinkpantheress

a/n: first, sorry that its been so long...im trying to be better about writing but inspiration comes and goes,,i hope you will indulge in whatever this is!!! everytime i hear this song my mind goes to haechan for some reason sooo yeah >_< i have lots of drafts its just a matter of when or if i finish them LOL love yall tho & enjoy

•°. *࿐

tell me, do you view me the same or do you call me a stranger?

"leave a bit after me so no one sees."

haechan is popular — without a doubt one of the most popular artists of your time. everyone either wants to be him or be with him, to which you completely understand. everything about him screams someone who was born to be on a stage, stealing hearts and whatnot. with such a bright personality, it was almost impossible to not like him.

you've had the privilege of getting to watch haechan grow from singing songs he wrote in his bedroom on youtube to him performing them in sold out shows. you're a fan, of course, but somewhere along the way — with crazy luck — you've wiggled your way into his life and into his heart. the two of you were music artists wishing on every star for some kind of breakthrough to the industry (take a guess on who got it). naturally, it brought you together. you were there when haechan reached 5,000 subscribers, and you were still there when he was selling out shows to 50,000 people. you've stuck by his side for so long that you're sure that its where you fit best.

in the moment, however, you're not so sure anymore.

"leave a bit after me so no one sees."

the small smile on your face slowly disappears at haechan's words and hurt quickly settles into your chest. "...why? what would be so bad about that?"

haechan seems unable to grasp how upset you are at his words. he shakes his head with a small laugh. "it's not like that, y/n. but a scandal at this time wouldn't be good."

"a scandal?" you scoff slightly. "since when have you ever cared about that?"

he sighs and runs a hand through his hair that's still slightly wet from his post-performance sweat. "i just don't want to take any risks right now. especially since my album is coming out soon. you understand, right?"

"i fly all the way out here to see you, and you don't want to be seen with me?" you say with a trembling lip and a weak voice. you're hurt and you're angry, but can't seem to keep your tears at bay.

"i didn't say that."

"you might as well have," you spit back at him.

"let's talk about this later, okay? trust me, it would be a lot worse for you than it would for me." haechan picks up his bag and swings it over his shoulder, making his way towards the backstage exit door.

frozen in place overwhelmed with emotion, you watch your boyfriend open the door. you think he's had a change of heart when he pauses at the door and turns back to you, but somehow he's managed to hurt you even more.

"maybe you should take these too," he says, placing the bouquet you made him back into your hold. the smell of roses and sunflowers taking over your senses as more tears well up in your eyes. you hope the flowers hide them from haechan's gaze. though, you're not so sure he'd notice anyway, as he'd already let the door close and left you behind.

•°. *࿐

'cause, baby, i don't care about the fame

people talk. as an upcoming music artist, you're aware that people talk. as the (hidden) girlfriend of a global superstar, you're more than aware that people love to talk about anything and everything that doesn't concern them.

you and haechan aren't on the same level of fame — not that it matters to you. it never mattered to you, really. even as haechan grew and grew and you remained with your significantly smaller (but still decent) following, fame was never your strongest desire.

yet, now, you're wondering that maybe if you were just a bit more famous, more popular, more well known, then you wouldn't feel as far away from haechan as you do right now. even as he sits beside you on the king bed of the luxury suite he booked for this stop of his tour, you feel further away from him then ever.

"i mean, what would people say about us, y/n? about you?"

"you keep saying that, hyuck, but you're not explaining it to me," you say, growing frustrated with him. "why is it just about me?"

he purses his lips before averting his gaze to the floor. "they'll say nasty stuff about you — that you're using me for fame, or money, or something like that."

you shake your head. "but you and i both know that's not true. we've been together for how many years now? their words shouldn't matter." you take hold of his hand and rub your thumb against his knuckles. "you could have nothing and i'd still be here."

"people don't know that," he scoffs. "they'll assume the worst about you."

maybe he's right — you're sure they will assume the worst about you regardless of your long, deep history with haechan. would he start to believe them? you think it, but you don’t ask — too afraid of the answer you might receive.

"what are you so afraid of?" you ask him softly, begging him with your mind for him to look at you.

but he doesn't, his eyes stayed trained on the ground and he can only weakly squeeze your hand that holds onto his own.

"i don't know."

•°. *࿐

tell me, why i don't play about you

every song is about you

haechan finally has a short break in between the legs of his tour and he chooses to spend every waking moment of it with you.

things between the two of you have felt rocky for a while. it makes haechan ashamed to say it, but he's been so focused on tour and his new album that he's pushed everything else to the side. he's a perfectionist and he feels like he's barely made it — he wants everything to work out perfectly and is committed to making sure that happens. he's not sure how long he's been brushing off anything non-career related, but he misses you — even if you're with him.

he flys the two of you out to a small, quaint place in kyoto where he finally gets to enjoy some peace and quiet in his life. he chooses to turn off his phone, not too keen with the idea of his manager berating him about all his responsibilities he'll have to tend to when he gets back. he's on vacation and he's here with you: the one person who's been with him through every up and down.

you're laying in his arms and haechan misses you to the point where it hurts — when was the last time he laid with you like this? the revelation urges him to pull you closer, placing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you lay on his chest. he sighs into your hair, breathing all of you in. it's silent, for the most part, until you ask a question that rattles haechan's being.

"why do you not sing about me?" you ask it so softly that haechan almost misses it.

"what? what are you talking about?" he's genuinely confused as to what you mean. who do you think he sings about?

"i know a handful of your old old songs are about me, but you don't perform those anymore," you murmur into his chest. "ah, don't mind me, i'm just talking."

you sound embarrassed and defeated and haechan wants to cry. did you really not know? how long has he been pushing you away?

"y/n, every single song i write is about you," haechan professes. "i couldn't write about anyone else if i tried."

his words shock you, even if they shouldn't. you tilt your head up to look up at him and he looks down at you with the softest gaze.

"not that i ever would, anyway," he continues, a sad smile painting his face.

"you mean it?" you whisper to him, wanting so badly to believe him.

when haechan's resolve breaks and his eyes glaze over, you know he means it. his hold on you tightens with one hand and the other comes up to caress your cheek, swiping a tear you didn't even know had fallen.

"of course," he croaks. "you're my muse, y/n. you."

this time, you're wiping his tears away as he cries and cries into your palms. you shift the two of you so that he lies in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face buried into your torso, your hands running through his hair. he's apologizing over and over and doesn't say why, but you know why. you regret ever doubting haechan's love for you — even if he was to blame.

but, just as you're certain you love him more than anything, you know that haechan loves you back all the same.

"it's always been you, y/n."

•°. *࿐

and everybody’s shouting out your name

“you look too handsome to be pouting like that, you know,” you tease lightly, approaching haechan to adjust his tie fondly.

he can’t help but smile at you as you do so, his hands easily finding their place around your waist, tugging you close. “if you tell me to stay, i will.”

you sigh and place your hands upon his chest, allowing you to push yourself up to place a soft kiss on his lips. his lips trail after yours once you pull away and he pouts at you again, eyes begging for another kiss but you push him back ever so slightly.

“you can’t miss this, hyuck, you know that. this could be really big for you!” you beam, swiping a bit of your lip gloss off of his lips. “some important people might be there.”

“but you won’t be there,” he whines. “what’s the point?”

you roll your eyes playfully. “you’ll be fine. now go, your manager has been waiting.” haechan sighs and leans down to place one more kiss on your lips.

you pull away before he can get carried away. “go! and put a good word in for me with taeyong, yeah?”

haechan rolls his eyes but smiles at you, pecking you on the cheek as he bids you farewell. “no promises.”

ੈ♡˳

it’s barely been over an hour and haechan wants to leave.

normally he’s able to tolerate these sorts of things — the bright lights, loud music, snobby people all trying to one up each other. he can get by and chat with anyone as if he’s known them for years. typically, events like these breeze by for haechan. why was he hating every second of it?

it’s lee taeyong’s end of year celebration party. of course, as his junior, haechan was invited. he’s grateful that he’s made friends with lots of other artists under his company, otherwise haechan would have been long gone within the first 45 minutes of arriving. but, haechan stays, mostly because he admires taeyong and does, in fact, bring up you and your songs — which, to his surprise, taeyong says he knows you and enjoys your music.

haechan isn’t given the chance to talk more, unfortunately, due to an excited kim jungwoo who locks an arm around haechan’s shoulder and drags him away.

“ow — hyung! i was in the middle of a conversation!” haechan grits to jungwoo, lightly shoving his arm off of him.

“my bad, it looked like you needed saving,” jungwoo chuckles. “come on, everyone’s been looking for you.”

jungwoo leads haechan to a small circle of people to which haechan knows as his small circle of friends: mark, his company's beloved canadian rapper; johnny suh, one of seoul's most popular djs; and of course there's kim jungwoo, kim doyoung, and jeong jaehyun who make up dojaejung, korea's heartthrob boy group.

"yo, where have you been?" mark greets him excitedly, lightly slapping him on the shoulder playfully.

"what do you mean 'where have i been', i saw you yesterday, mark," haechan grumbles.

"woah, someone needs a drink," johnny chuckles. doyoung is quick to hand haechan a glass of champagne.

haechan takes a large gulp, hopefully to ease whatever tension he feels in his shoulders. he's trying to enjoy the party, he really is, but all he wants to do is come home to you.

"everything okay?" doyoung asks him, concerned with the way haechan seems to be downing his drink.

the younger boy sighs. "yeah, i'm fine, sorry. just stressed out."

"oh, your album is coming out soon, right?" jungwoo remembers, nudging haechan with his elbow. "congratulations!"

the rest of the boys congratulate him and haechan can only half-heartedly reply despite being very grateful.

"i'm sure it'll be great," johnny reassures him.

"saw a lot of love songs on that track list," jungwoo teases. "got a special someone?"

haechan stills at his words and he's caught in an argument with himself. does he mention you? does he say no? is this how he wants people to find out you’re together? before he can even reply, though, jaehyun cuts in.

"speaking of, i heard that kim minjeong has had her eye on you for a while, haechan," jaehyun says. he raises his eyebrows at the younger boy and haechan gulps, the rest of his friends nudging him playfully as they coo at him.

"that's the model, right? and singer?" doyoung asks. "you should talk to her!"

haechan feels like he's going to be sick. maybe he's being dramatic — its not like they're shoving him into minjeong's face and asking him to profess his love. still, he feels like he's betraying you in some way and he realizes he has to go home.

"i can talk you up, probably," mark says. "we're normally at the studio at the same time."

“i heard that shin ryujin has been talking about you, too,” johnny pipes in. “honestly, who hasn’t been talking about you? i’m surprised you’ve done nothing about it.”

doyoung hums. “she seems like your type, donghyuck! i know some people over at —“

"no! no, don't — " haechan places his champagne glass onto a nearby table abruptly and sighs shakily. "just...don't. sorry, i-i don't feel well. i should go."

confused and concerned eyes watch haechan as he rushes towards the nearest exit. he doesn't bother saying goodbye to taeyong, but makes a mental note to send him an apologetic note tomorrow. haechan sees kim minjeong catch sight of him, and he's sure she's about to make an attempt to stop him to chat with the way she looks at him with a flirty gaze. haechan is quick to turn in the opposite direction and flees out of the nearest door.

haechan's manager comes out soon behind him, frenzied after trying to catch up to a frantic haechan. he doesn't get the chance to ask the latter if he's okay, too occupied with calling their driver upon haechan's request.

"home," he chokes out. he's out of breath and he feels dizzy — whether its from the champagne or from guilt, he's unsure.

"i want to go home."

•°. *࿐

i'm in the crowd, can you see my hand?

haechan has reached the encore of his final show of his tour, yet he still feels a pressure that he cannot explain.

its not from all of his seniors and friends that attended in support of him, he knows that. it's not from the different producers and music artists that flew to seoul for him, either. its a pressure that weighs on his chest that has made him feel unsatisfied with each stage, despite putting 150% effort in everything.

the crowd is going crazy for him after he delivers his final ment, and he takes a moment to soak in it all, in hopes it would give him some peace of mind.

then, his eyes finally spot you.

you, in the back row of some random section, sitting with your manager, with a banner with his name on it and a headband with bear ears perched on top of your head. he doesn't know if you can tell that he's staring right at you, but you start waving around the banner with excitement. haechan can't help but adore you even more than he already does.

time stops for him as he realizes that you're here. through thick and thin you've always been there — what has haechan ever done for you? he hasn't given you even a sliver of what you deserve, yet you've never left him. you stayed when he was a nobody, and even now when he's been terribly selfish, you let him be.

there are thousands of other hands waving at him, but haechan can only see yours.

"actually," haechan starts, quickly silencing the crowd. "there's one more thing i wanted to say."

from your seat, you feel your heartbeat quicken. haechan is still standing and looking into your direction and you know he sees you.

"there's someone very special to me that's here tonight."

your heart stops as you realize what he's doing and you can't help but glance at your manager in a panic. fans around you are murmuring in confusion since haechan had already given a shoutout to his guests.

"they've been by my side since i was writing silly love songs in my childhood bedroom," haechan says, a fond smile taking over his features. "i wrote those love songs about them then, and i still write every love song about them now."

the gasps and shocked noises at his confession fall upon deaf ears — to you, you and haechan are the only two people in the world.

"some of you may know her — she's an amazing music artist as well. far better than me, in my opinion, but maybe i'm a bit biased." haechan sees you laugh and can't help but chuckle too.

"my girlfriend, y/n, is here tonight, and i couldn't be more grateful. wave, y/n!" haechan calls out to you. surprisingly, the camera cuts to you as you wave shyly, hiding behind your haechan banner. even more surprising, the crowd cheers loudly for you.

"isn't she cute?" haechan asks. he's delighted when he sees and hears the rest of the stadium agree.

haechan finally feels that weight lift from off of his chest and he feels like he can breathe. he's happy — ecstatic, even — now that the world finally knows he's yours.

"y/n, you once asked me what i was afraid of, and i said i didn't know," haechan recalls gently. "but i know now." he purses his lips to prevent himself from choking up.

"you've always been so supportive of everything i've done. you've done so much for me and i'm not sure how i could ever repay you." haechan sucks in a sharp breath. "i'm afraid that i'll never truly deserve you."

the crowd coos and some fans in front of you turn around to look at you. you're a mess: tears are streaming down your face, and your hands are shaking. you hide pathetically behind your banner again as your manager wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder.

"i'm sorry for making you wait." haechan puts a hand over his heart, and you do the same. "i love you."

the camera cuts to you again and haechan glances at the monitor to get a better look at you as you mouth something back. haechan doesn't even attempt to conceal his smile or to hold back his tears. there's no use.

"i love you, too."

•°. *࿐

say what you want, this is true romance

“did you really have to mention that, hyuck?”

your boyfriend settles next to you on the couch, arm draping over your shoulder, as you scroll through his recent interview with vogue korea.

you pout at him and he's unable to stop the smile that takes over his face. he pinches your cheek and you quickly swat his hand away.

"what? what did i say?" he rests his chin on your shoulder to read the article for himself.

"i mean, does the public really have to know about me crying on our first date?" you complained. you continued scrolling and laughed as you read. "in what context would you ever have to tell vogue about our matching crayon shin-chan pajama pants?"

haechan laughs and presses a kiss to your shoulder. "honestly, i don't remember half of what i said during this interview. or any of what they asked me." he tugs you a little closer to him so that you're leaning against him, laying the two of you down. "all i know is that i'm pretty sure i started talking about you so much that they just called it a day."

"you're that obsessed with me, huh?" you teased.

haechan scoffs, wrapping both of his arms around you tightly. "obviously."

he watches you open instagram and sees you check the likes on your new post. he gasps dramatically, loosening one arm around you to snatch his phone from his pocket. "you posted?! where was my post notification?" he whines cutely.

he's a little too quick to find your account and he then quadruple clicks the picture to give it a like. "babe, why are your comments off? i was about to get really out of pocket," haechan whines again.

"okay, first, don't do that, please. save some of your dignity," you scold him. "but its because people are mean," you admit softly.

haechan's eyebrows furrow together and his tone stiffens. "who? what did they say?"

you sigh. "no one specific, don't worry. some people are just not too keen about us. your predictions were right, i guess," you attempt to joke, but it only makes haechan upset.

"here, come here," haechan beckons you up with him as he sits up. you're still under one of his arms, which he locks around your neck as he tugs you into his side. you're caught off guard, but lean into him anyway, arms wrapped around his torso. haechan lifts his phone up and takes selfies of the two of you, cheeks pressed together as you both smile uncontrollably.

you're both giggling like two high schoolers fresh into a relationship and you've never felt more happy and in love in your life. haechan presses wet kisses against your cheek before you eventually push his face away. still, he steals one more kiss from you — this time on your lips — and you let him.

"okay, i'm posting all of these," haechan declares casually, leaning back against the couch.

your eyes widen and you reach for his phone in an attempt to stop him, but haechan has already dodged you and raised his hand up. "hyuck, don't."

"why not? i'm in love with you, people just have to deal with it," he shrugs. "anyone who has a problem with us can get blocked."

you fall onto haechan's chest and he gladly wraps you up in his arms again. "you're stupid, but i love you."

"good, because i just posted it."

you peer up at haechan's phone and you see that he was true to his word. all of the selfies you just took piled into one singular post to which haechan captioned 'my heart'. you watch as he scrolls through the comments and blocks anyone with anything bad to say.

"wow, you weren't kidding," you say, amused.

"'course not. these people need to learn true romance." he leans down to kiss you one more time, this time letting the kiss linger. he pulls away but rests his forehead against yours, staring at you with eyes full of love. "i love you, too, by the way."

ੈ♡˳

haechan is popular — without a doubt, he's one of the most sought after guys in the industry. he's confident, charismatic, and he's bright. he's everyone's dream guy, it's no secret.

but, above all, he's yours, and you're his as well. he has devoted his heart and life to you and its not a secret to anyone anymore.

this time around, haechan wraps you up in his scarf to protect you from the cold before the two of you leave.

"i already have a scarf on, hyuck, just keep yours," you mumble from underneath the thick fabric.

haechan doesn't hear you (not just because he literally can't) because he's too focused on zipping up your jacket and tugging your beanie over your ears.

"okay," he says as he intertwines a hand in yours. he clutches the bouquet you made for him proudly in his other arm while he carries your bag and his own over his shoulder. "let's go home!"

its bittersweet as you realize how familiar yet different the situation is. you clutch haechan's hand tighter as he tugs you towards the backstage exit door, outside where the press and his fans are waiting.

he doesn't hide you anymore. no, instead haechan shows you off proudly and wholeheartedly as if it was what he was meant to do.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Hi! Could I request anything EJ related? Preferably romance. Fluff, angst, whatever you have ideas for, I just love him. Thank you, it’s always great to see your writing, you write so well!

I bring you October/Fall EJ rambles, I hope you enjoy <3 :)

It is October, and this just randomly popped into my head, but the thought of taking Jack to a pumpkin patch and him using his increased sense of smell to help you find the pumpkins that are in the best condition and aren't too old, so you can have the best pumpkins possible. I feel like he would hover over you while you wander around, and he can tell you if a pumpkin around you is too old before you even lift it to his nose. He also tends to hover around you when you go to carve said pumpkins. He can't see, so he can't really efficiently help you carve at all, but honestly, I see him offering to help you clean out the inside of the pumpkin because he can at least feel where all the strings and seeds are. He does make sure you're extra careful so you don't hurt yourself.

Listen, October is also prime sweater weather, and Jack is a sweater GUY. I feel like he'd go sweater shopping with you, again, because he cannot see, and have you pick out sweaters for him that you think he looks nice in. So long as they're soft and fit him comfortably, he generally doesn't mind what they look like (so long as they aren't absolutely ridiculous), but he does have a preference for flat colors. If they're simple enough though, he doesn't mind if you get him some that have designs, like maybe a Halloween one, or a Christmas one when it gets to that time of year. Prime sweater season also means it's prime season for you to steal his sweaters for yourself and wear them around. As much as he acts like it's an inconvenience for you to do so, he finds it incredibly cute and it makes some part of his demonic instinct brain feel very happy that you're doing this, as if it's exerting his claim on you as your mate. Before you know it, he begins "accidentally" leaving his sweaters out around his room for you to steal. He loves cuddling up to you when you're wearing them because you get so warm and the fabric is so soft, he'll just snuggle you for hours like that.

When it starts getting colder out, Jack starts to get into his pouty sleepy era as well. My Jack is cold sensitive and can end up hibernating if he experiences too much coldness for too long of a period, so he does his best to not get too cold. However, even just a bit of a chill has him growing drowsy, and it's incredibly adorable to watch him just grow really sleepy when you're outside on a chilly day. He curls in a bit in his seat, gripping his sweater in his lap with his hands, his head bobbing forward as he feels himself drifting off. If you dare to chuckle about it (you will), he gets a little grumpy, but he's just so cute when he's pouting with drowsiness slurred speech, trying to tell you off for laughing at him, and it just makes you laugh even more because it's peak adorableness, and he gets to grumpy at you. He'll forgive you if you take him inside to sit by the fire and cuddle, so he can warm right back up and get his energy back, after which he will proceed to tickle you and carry you around in the air for daring to laugh at him for getting sleepy. It doesn't actually bother him at all, he just likes any excuse to pester you.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 45!

what a week... i'm greatly enjoying all of the post-8x06 buddie fic (many more recs to come!) and took some time to revisit old favourites, which can be found in previous rec lists. enjoy!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

all that we need | not1_2write | 26.4k | M

When Buck buys a Powerball lottery ticket he doesn't think much beyond his need for change to air up his tire. He forgets all about the ticket until word spreads that the winning ticket was sold in LA and hasn't been claimed yet and pretty much dismisses it. After all, there's no way he won the lottery. Turns out no, he really did win the Powerball, to the tune of 295 million dollars and just in time for Christmas. He's going to make sure the 118 has the best Christmas of their lives. And just maybe he'll have a good one too. idk about all of you but i do dream about winning the lottery regularly (way too often for someone who's never bought a ticket, that's for sure). this is such a lovely look at what buck would do with a whole lot of money <3

i take this magnetic force of a man | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 9k | M

Turns out, he isn’t actually afraid of commitment. He’s just afraid of committing to the wrong thing, or the wrong person. Ana, obviously, had been a mistake, because he hadn’t been ready, and he’d put other people’s expectations above his own wants and needs. With Marisol, he’s done the same thing. Moved too fast, doing what he thinks is the right thing according to who? His parents? For Chris’s benefit? Again, pushing past his own comfort, discarding any doubt because it doesn’t fit like… Like Buck. blanket rec for one of my favourite authors who has been posting incredible fics lately!! this one in particular is so beautifully written and so romantic and just so very buddie <3

if i need to rearrange my particules i will for you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 7.9k | GA

Eddie catches a cold and Buck takes care of him while having a minor, non-platonic emotional crisis. this is definitely influenced by the fact that i've been ill myself but wow truly nothing hits as hard as buddie taking care of each other when one of them isn't feeling well. the bed sharing in this is so good <3

let me | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 1.6k | T

Eddie doesn't think he needs romance. Buck, respectfully, disagrees. AKA the fic where Buck picks Eddie up and kisses him breathless against a wall. and buck is so right for doing that!! i love it when buck turns eddie to jello <3 so lovely!

second child, restless child | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 23k and counting| M

how Evan and Maddie make it out of Pennsylvania, and Buck and Maddie build a family. okay so listen these past few weeks i've been doing this thing where i only rec finished fics, and every time i scroll through my ao3 history for these rec lists, i come across this one and go oh i wish i could rec this already. and then i realised wait it's my rec list i can do whatever i want, and so then i did. anyway, mind the tags for this one, but wow are you in for a treat here! i love the character dynamics (chim is brilliant in this!! and maddie!!) and i'm so so excited to see the rest of this fic unfold <3

said that i was fine, said it from my coffin | justhockey/tumblr | 7.3k | T

And it doesn’t matter that he feels like he’s dying. Like the version of himself that he’s always been is suddenly a stranger to him - just a mask he’d spent his entire life hiding behind, without ever even realising he was wearing it. It doesn’t matter that Eddie is…that he’s gay. Because he knows - as surely as he knows that the sun will rise again tomorrow - that the only person he has ever, and will ever, truly love is Buck. And Buck isn’t his to love. another blanket rec for an author who's been posting incredible fics!! this one in particular has such brilliant eddie characterisation and i just devoured it the second i got that little ao3 email hehe

there's no place like home-spun | icewhisper | 4.1k | GA

Buck has spent most of his life trying to find something to settle fidgeting hands and the restless need for a home. He found the key to the latter when he was thirteen. He finds the former in a cozy home on South Bedford Street with two of his favorite people. (AKA the Buck-crochets fic that literally no one asked for.). this fic makes me want to learn how to crochet. i am the least crafty person ever and i have like minus time but just know that if two weeks from now i'm posting about yarn and crochet hooks and whatnot, it's all thanks to this fic. i love buck who crochets so very much <3

you get your dreams for free | llovely/@butchdiaz| 14.9k | T

five times buck and eddie cuddle drunk and one time they cuddle sober. buddie bed sharing my absolute favourite. i read this late at night curled up under three blankets and it hit just right <3

[someonexsomeone]

Stardrinker

Title: Stardrinker

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Sirius Black x bestfriend!reader, minor James Potter x Slytherin Pureblood np!reader

Summary: Sirius is your best friend, but James...James is your sun.

Warnings: angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of traditional values and arranged marriages, happy ending

Authors Note: hello again! This is kinda a prequel kinda a companion piece to Suneater. Originally I wrote Suneater from readers POV but i am a sucker for the male pov in romances because idk i want to be loved and devoted or whatever so here is what Suneater almost was, with some minor additions

if you or anyone you know needs help, please call 988 (USA) or contact your local hotline. You are loved, you are needed.

Companion piece: Suneater

Sirius is one of your best friends. Well, maybe best friend wasn’t the best way to put it. Sirius was the light of your life, the reason you were able to hold out for as long as you did, a comfort in the dreary place you called home. He was the one who kept you company at stuffy Pureblood events, dressed in clothes that only fit if you stayed as still as possible. He was the one who gave you reassuring looks from across the room as your parents paraded you around the room, sickly fake smiles on their faces that would drop the moment you returned back home. He made those parties somewhat enjoyable as he mocked those around him with little to no tack behind their backs, easily slipping into rehearsed conversation when they looked towards him again. He was the one who would cut into your dances as much as he could, even if customs looked down on him for doing so, just to make sure you didn’t end up in the arms of a Pureblood twice your age, the type who would grab at your hips in a possessive way and allude to buying you from your parents (because, let’s be honest, being on the marriage market in your circle was nearly the same as being cattle put up for auction). 

He was the bane of your existence when you were younger. Your parents had always pursued the best course to elevate the family status, jumping from family to family, pledging their loyalty to the highest bidder until they found something better, turning their back without another word. It was obvious, to everyone else around, that your family’s loyalty was like holding water, but with their seemingly random ways of knowing exactly when to jump ship, you were able to keep your head above water with minimal problems. You’ve had more marriage arrangements than most, paraded around every party your parents could make their way into, forced into hundreds of different robes until you could barely remember what any of them looked like. 

The Ancient and Noble House of Black was one of the many families your parents tried to cozy up to. It was, to your relief, they were much too confident in themselves to stoop so low as to interact beyond pleasantries with your parents, but it happened frequently enough that you and Sirius came to know each other's faces. Two scared children, standing stiff as a board beside their parents, flicking eyes to judge the other silently. By the time Sirius had decided he wanted to distance himself from his parents, you had already spent too many years glaring at each other to have anything beyond acknowledgement of the others existence.

It was why, when you parents not so subtly berated you at a summer function, you were mortified it was Sirius who found you. The summer before your first year, before the only bit of freedom you ever dared to have, it was no wonder you got a little cocky. The scoff was nothing, easily passed up as a sneeze or a cough, but your parents were furious, hurling hate at you as soon as they got you alone. Your arm still stung from where they had dragged you, wanting to get as much distance from the party as possible to not embarrass them even more, and your eyes burned with unshed tears. You were eleven.

Sirius found you that night, curled up on the floor only minutes after your parents were done with you. They commanded you to remain in the room for the rest of the night, staying far away from any other potential allies, and to hide the disarray they left you in. He rushed into the room without a care to look around, out of breath as if he’d been running, closing the door with a soft click, obviously trying to get some privacy. He leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep lungful of air, before turning. He stopped still when he saw you on the floor.

Neither said a word. Sirius stayed frozen for far too long, eyes flickering between you and the rest of the room, obviously at a loss for what to do. You tried to scooch away from him, but the pain was too much to hide, and a whimper escaped your lips. It was then that Sirius noticed the small drip of blood from your nose, a sign of something he knew all too well. With a pitying look, one you met with a hateful glare, he approached, hand fumbling with the handkerchief from his pocket. You flinched when he reached down, but he only held your chin gently, whipping the blood from your upper lip. He left without another word.

It was a miracle you were able to make it home that night without any further incident. Your parents cooled down, none the wiser to Sirius’s intervention, and prepped you for the next party. The Black’s were there too, of course, but you were far too embarrassed to look Sirius in the eye. But he simply gave you a soft smile and tilt to his head, keeping his pleasantries boring and impersonal. You were surprised, and suspicious. 

That is, until Sirius showed up at the last party of the summer with a slight limp and the smallest bit of blood still on his nostril, that understanding overcame you, and you gave him the subtlest of nods, passing a napkin over with the twitch of your nose. From then on, an unspoken pact formed between the two of you.

No words were exchanged during the school year. With Sirius entering Gryffindor, a fact you were both pleased with - a true escape from the pureblood nonsense - and devastated by - you were hoping to have an ally -, it was hard to justify talking to him. Winter and Summers were the only times you were able to sneak a small conversation here and there, but, for someone who loved the sound of their own voice, Sirius was surprisingly good at having a whole conversation with you with just his eyes. It was ridiculous, but for whatever reason, you began to trust Sirius Black.

It was why, during one of the worst moments of  your life, you were glad it was him who found you.

Sirius was there when  you were on the verge jumping off the balcony that summer night, your parents just having informed you they promised you to a man who could have been your grandfather. The man had leered at you when they left you alone, forcing himself onto you, grabbing everything that would eventually, legally, be his to possess. When you screamed, brandishing your wand, even though it had been drilled into your mind never to pull your wand on a Pureblood of higher status, the man laughed, a vile laugh that made your bones shake, and told you to get all the attitude out of your body before you walked down the aisle; he would not tolerate anything after that. The moment he stepped out, leaving you with nothing but the night air, you unconsciously turned to look at the stars. It was something of comfort, to find a constant like the stars. You took a moment, memorizing them one last time, before climbing up, the least graceful thing you had done in who knows however many years. Your uneven heels rocked you back and forth, a melancholy waltz, before you tipped forward.

Sirius’ hands clasped around your legs before you could fall, using his momentum to pull you back onto him and the solid ground. Your arms scraped painfully against the stone balcony, tearing through the delicate gloves on your hands and shredding your fine clothes, but Sirius’ body took most of the brunt of your fall. You could barely hear him over the ringing in your ears, too shocked at the fact that you were alive, that you didn’t fall, didn’t crash into the floor below like you so wanted, too overwhelmed to hear him yelling at you, wondering what you were thinking by standing on the ledge like that. Yelling at you for almost taking your life. Your gloves slowly dotted red, then black, as your tears joined to create the most unusual canvas of dotted pain. Suddenly it was too hard to breathe, to let out anything but a wail of despair, enough to render even the great Sirius, the man who always had something to say, to say nothing at all.

He did the only thing he could think of, the only thing he ever wanted anyone to do for him. He grabbed you and held you tight as you sobbed into his arms, begging not to be the one to save your family from ruin, begging to just let everything burn to the ground, setting your body alight so there would be nothing left to touch. 

He held you there until the morning light started to peak over the horizon, letting you cry until there was nothing but dry heaves left, until you were too weak to do more than finally let yourself completely rely on him to keep you propped up. Quietly and gently, more than you had ever been afforded before, he helped you stand, flooing the two of you back to your house. Your parents were already fast asleep, too high on the success of setting you up with a match that would bring riches to your decaying family once more to really care where you went. They knew, just as you did, there was nowhere for you to go but the path they made just for you. Sirius shooed away the only remaining awake House Elf to draw you a bath.

“I find that it helps,” he whispered, voice low in order to not bring any unwanted attention. “Hot water does wonders for shaky nerves.” 

He moved with practiced ease, steps so quiet you could barely hear the squeak of shiny dragonhide shoes, voice clear was quiet. It was in that moment that you realized he was just like you, trapped in a home that weighed so heavily you could do nothing but let it mold you or crush you, where punishment was more common than gratitude. You noticed the telltale shake of his hands, the same ones you had, the same ones many of your fellow Slytherin’s had - the ones that came from prolonged and constant exposure to punishment curses. 

But the smile he gave you that night was nothing but warmth, a rarity in your inner circle. He helped you with your outer layer of clothes, mindful of the way all your strength seemed to have disappeared, turning his head away to give you the illusion of privacy. When he gave you a tight lipped smile, bowing the way so many Purebloods were taught to do on their departure, you panicked, grabbing onto his arm so tightly you nails dug into his skin.

“No, please,” you begged. Tomorrow, you would be proud. Tomorrow, you would hold yourself up once more as you always did, no sign of insecurity to be seen. But today? Today, you had already wasted your will and composure. What was one more unrealistic wish? “Don’t leave me. I…I can’t-”

“Woah! Okay, okay. I won’t leave. I’m right here.” He flushed when you disrobed in front of him, but didn’t let go of your hand, helping you into the steaming bath. The two of you stayed in silence, either too scared to speak or too ashamed, but never letting go. When it was clear you were too overwhelmed to clean yourself, he used his free hand to run a gentle lather over your exposed skin, too delicate to do anything but provide the smallest amount of additional comfort. You fell asleep that night, warmed to your core, at ease for the first time in years.

And when he appeared at the party the following day, his usual smirk gone, in too much pain to do anything but whisper the punishment his parents saw fit to give him after staying out past curfew, it was all too easy to offer the same comfort.

You were there to have an escape from the countless Mother’s trying for his hand, and he was there to deter any more conversations with your fiance. He jostled you jokingly if he caught you in the hallways in between classes, and you always made sure to swing by the Gryffindor table on the way to your own to pinch him in return. On bad days, you seeked each other out, thankfully not needing the bath as neither of your parents could touch you while safe within the walls of Hogwarts. Instead you snuck into the kitchen, snacking on sweet things and improper treats, the kind which you’d never find back home. 

Sirius spoke of his friends often, of the comfort they brought him, of the promises they’d kept to always make him feel wanted. Remus was his love, you were his heart, and James…James was his light. He always spoke of James with such awe, reaching his hands out like he was cupping the summer sun in his hands in the only way he could describe his best friend. James made him laugh, made him feel like the cruelty of the world was just a shadow rather than a looming cloud, and made every tomorrow feel joyous rather than dreadful. Even though he had to return him every summer, James was there to hold his hand until he got there, and was the reason Sirius wasn’t being crushed under the pressure of defying his family. Your heart stung when Sirius talked about James, wanting to be that person for him, but with your darkness, there was nothing so bright you could do. If James was Sirius’s sun, and Remus his moon, you were happy to be his stars. Always there, but never the focus.

And then you met James, and everything Sirius said made sense.

The night James confessed to you, it was as if your world was suddenly lit by beaming rays of light when all you ever had were torches. Once the story started, you couldn’t stop. It was the first time, the only time, when you felt you truly had someone who would listen when you spoke your horrible truth, to someone who would actually care what happened to you. Your dormmates knew, but their stories were too alike to your own to be needed to be said aloud. Sirius was there, he was always there, but James…James was new. James was unpredictable, and brash, and quick tempered, and an idiot, but he was also warm. So very warm, that it felt like being gazed upon by the sun when you met eyes. His touch did far more to help than laying outside on a summer day, and when you’re with him, it felt, for the first time, that not everything was tainted by darkness. Even Sirius, your most beloved friend, was no stranger to it. 

So, when James pulled you into his warm hug, the kind that promised things would be okay, even if you were sure it never would be, you latched on, and never let go.

______________________________________________________________

masterlist  l hogwarts masterlist

[semisomnosres]

question if there was a season 3 rc9gn what could it be if season 3 could come out

I doubt that in the supposed 3rd season the writers will suddenly go into something serious. I'm sure that the meeting of people responsible for scenarios looks something like this: Man 1: we need a script for season 3. Tell me the best ideas you have Man 2: maybe we can talk about Randy's experiences? About other ninjas, how the chaos pearls appeared and.. Man 1: who let him in here? I'm telling you we need the BEST ideas. And you're fired Man 3: fart jokes Man 1: brilliant! Give this guy the entire budget, we have an unrecognized genius here! Man 3: *burps* Man 1: I'll name my son after you

I imagine the following development of events:

The season will begin with Randy's ego soaring to unprecedented heights after defeating an enemy that has terrorized the city for 800 years. And with this behavior he will irritate not only Howard, but also Nomicon, listening to the same thing every day several times a day will eventually irritate even the magic book, he will grow his eyes on purpose to roll them. He will start saying something like "if you continue to behave so carelessly, you will not notice how the enemy sneaks up" which Randy will shamelessly ignore and as a result, as Nomicon warned, he will screw up somewhere and endanger others and this will still manifest itself in the near future.

It is logical that the Sorceress will take the niche of the Sorcerer. She has already escaped from the world of shadows at least twice and nothing holds her back. But she is more careful and cunning than the Sorcerer, attacking into the breach is risky (especially after defeating her ex), so she will sit somewhere or will plot while remaining in the Land of Shadows. Let's assume that like the Sorcerer, her good side also separated from her, which she chained and hid, but it was nowhere to be found in the shadow world, so it is possible that she is in one of the remaining 8 worlds. And I think after all this, she will hide the good version more securely (and I wonder if it is possible to simply kill her? If so, then this would make her task much easier. But most likely they are connected, that while one is alive, the other will not die, etc.)

And it is not necessary to defeat her so that the next ninja have an opponent, she can also be sealed or given a new one. Perhaps, in addition to the green and purple chaos pearls, there are other colors, perhaps there are as many of them as there are worlds, who knows.

Viceroy and McFist will again become villains, they are too good a comedy-villain duo to simply put them aside. But why would they attack the ninja if the Sorcerer is no longer there? Therefore, we use the point above. This time their boss will be the Sorceress, there are 3 options why they will listen to her - manipulation, promises like last time or threats, or all together. She can threaten to harm McFist's wife, which he will not allow And perhaps they will tell about his probable conflict with the past ninja (I have a headcanon that when he studied at the Norisville school, the then ninja somehow annoyed him, because of which he so willingly agreed to the sorcerer's proposal) And after so much time, the offense still remains

Since Theresa was shown as a mutual love interest of Randy - then they should devote time to her and her interaction with Randy. Otherwise, in her current state, she is at the level of talking curtains. I understand that this show is a comedy-action movie and not a romance, but at least it will not be such a difficult task to write her between the lines. Here's my idea for how to fit her plot: so that Theresa would have more opportunity to spend time among the main characters - she should learn the secret of the ninja at some point. (for example, at the beginning of the season When Randy didn't notice anything beyond his nose drunk with his triumph) Of course by accident, and instead of revealing the secret she began to cover for him like Howard. She should earn the opportunity to keep these memories, save the situation by proving to Nomi that she can be trusted. (It seems that Amanda's love magic only worked on guys, you can play this situation) so from the company of 2 idiots and 1 sane person in the person of Nomi, there will be 2 idiots and 2 sane people

I REALLY WANT to be given more information about the Norisu Clan, at least show the silhouettes (I made several designs of the First's brothers for myself, maybe I'll post them someday) (and I would really like more interactions between Randy and First. The trope where a tired adult almost adopts a hyperactive child will sell me almost everything) And at the same time, I don't want to be given out a lot of information about Creep, he suits the role of a mysterious guy who knows much more than you can imagine.

We have already been shown several mask modes: fire, Halloween and ice (from the game). Most likely there are other versions that are not limited to the elements (he has a bomb with bees, it seems there are no rules at all), for example, a lightning or stench mode (yes, don't pretend that the authors won't do this) and new types of magic from weapons or expanded hidden settings of old ones.

BUT most likely most of this will not be written into the plot, freeing up all the screen time for toilet humor…..

[leoruby-draws]

Next up is Owen Mercer aka Boomerang Jr, son of Captain Boomerang and the speedster of the TrWh Outlaw team! Get ready for another long post you guys, god my hands are hurting this week arrughhh.

Owen's a fun character to draw and has a fun personality in general. He's more angsty and dark in the comics but since Digger finds out about him early on, Owen's much more happy in this au. Digger and Owen have a fantastic father-son relationship and Owen really looks up to him. Digger is so happy he found Owen but is kinda frantic on how to raise him, being a villain isn't the best job for a dad. Not sure what age Digger discovers him, maybe 10 or so?

That mini version of Digger's outfit is what Owen would've worn if he was discovered even younger (he's 4-6 in that doodle), preteen Owen would've found that outfit a bit too silly for his tastes tho.

Honestly I'm not sure if Owen even lives with him, since Digger is a rogue and probably in jail more often than not, Owen might still be in foster care. I don't remember if Owen was shown to be adopted in the comics, he was already shown to be an adult. Btw, concerning Owen's age*, I'm slightly lowering his age to better fit with Jason's age group (he's 12 to Jason's 10). He, along with Jack Moore, are the oldest of the team, too bad Owen doesn't care about acting his age!

While Owen loves hanging out with his father, he also likes to hang out with the Flash aka Barry Allen. Barry has been mentoring Owen on and off (much to Wally's dismay) and has been slowly pushing him towards heroism. He's knows Owen's got a good heart and see's that he has the potential to access the speedforce. Owen's a character that's caught between two worlds, rogue and hero. Does he want to follow in his father's footsteps or go follow Barry?

What a conundrum, but this is a problem he had in the comics. His struggle to figure what to do with his life. Actually, I think I heard somewhere he was actually created with the intent to replace Wally as the Flash but they dropped that plot point, leaving him adrift in the comics. Let me know if that's wrong tho!

Captain Cold aka Leonard Snart isn't helping matters as you can see in that vague threat up there, I'd like to better define that relationship between those two but I'd need to read more comics with Leonard to do that.

Here I have Owen with some of his friends and his dad. I said in my last post with Rankorr, that he and Owen's friendship is a nod towards the famous Green Lantern/Flash partnership. Owen's always trying to get Jack to loosen up and have fun, Jack sometimes finds this annoying but is slowly letting Owen in his life. You can see up there Owen giving Jason a ride someplace, bet Jason wishes he took the bus lol.

You can see Owen gushing over Para Dice, his canonical girlfriend from Rebirth. Owen at some point meets her in Australia and has an instant crush on her. Para is a rather mysterious girl, but has taken a liken to Owen as well. Still too young for a proper romance tho, plus Owen would need to sharpen up his speed skills if he wants to make this LDR work.

There's Digger training Owen in the art of the boomerang, rogue or hero, any son of Cap. Boomerang will be a learn to toss a good boomerang!

Another drawing of these two, aren't they adorable?

Here's Owen bother poor Lisa Snart aka Golden Glider. Owen can be a little insensitive, tho he's never actually malicious in intent (usually). Always thought it was weird that Lisa was considered a candidate for Owen's mother, she didn't seem old enough for that (Owen was like early twenties). Anyways Lisa thinks he's an annoying little twerp...

...and not the only one. Here's Owen bothering poor Jesse. Also you can see I messed up on her shirt design, wasn't really thinking about what I was drawing I guess. I do that sometimes lol.

On the nature of Owen's and Jason's relationship, they seem to quite like each other. Neither of them had many friends before the team, and find easy camaraderie in having simple boyish fun together, which is something they kinda needed in life. You'll sometimes see them making complex plans for the next prank (Lori is invited as well).

In team dynamics, Jason can find Owen tendency to not take fights seriously kinda annoying. While Owen can sometimes disregard Jason's leadership (should Jason be leader that day I mean) due to him being younger. Friction isn't common between them though, perhaps because they got a lot in common.

From being caught between opposing morality, difficulty in finding a niche in the DC comics, even in trying to discover who their mothers are. Its can be validating to know people who understand what your going through.

Little more focus on Owen's relations, I said that Barry has been trying to steer Owen towards good but I also think that Barry just thinks that Owen is just a fun little guy in general. I'd think they get along pretty well, Wally looks so pissed tho. There was this one comic where Hal had Wally as a sidekick for a day and Barry was pretty jealous. Guess the reverse is happening here. Wally's a favored target for Owen's pranks, so this whole situation is just very annoying to him.

Here's Digger introducing Owen to the rogues, Leonard looks befuddled at all this (Digger got a girl preggo? crazy).

Wanted to have Digger and Owen watch cartoons together, so I looked up Australian cartoons, found something called Bluey. Apparently it's super popular, even adults like it. So I found some free cartoons on youtube and yeah. It really is that good. Look it up if you want to see some fun, relaxing cartoons with smart writing!

To finish off this mass of words, here's Owen being a goofball with Eddie and Jason. I'm slowly finding that Owen's got a pretty fun dynamic with most anyone I draw him with. So that's been fun.

All this and I still haven't gone into Meloni and Bart, but it's best if I leave that for later. Anyways, hoped you like all that!

*About Owen's age, the comics never specified what his age actually was. All I know he's in his twenties but still younger than Dick's age group. Young enough to be unsure of his place in the world, but old enough that his 'relationship' with Kara to be weird. I guess it'd be less weird in my au with a smaller age gap, but that's still not happening.