#this one is just because I think it would be cool

[star-sim]

japanese denim ☆ riki nishimura

☆ non-idol! riki x fem! reader ☆ summary: that one time your shower and heater broke down in the middle of winter, so you had to enlist the help of your neighbor... but since when was your neighbor so handsome?! ☆ genre: fluff, neighbors! au, high school! au, childhood friends to lovers, awkward crushessss ☆ word count: 3.6k

enjoy!

"Hi, I think my shower is broken, can I use yours?" Your nose scrunched as these words left your mouth.

There was no use feeling embarrassed. Especially in front of Riki Nishimura, your next door neighbor who you’ve known since you were a child. 

“Yeah,” Riki said simply, his raspy voice sounding indifferent as always. “Just make sure you have your own towel.”

Although it’s embarrassing to admit, this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. You lived in a dinky little apartment complex, one with pipes and plumbing so crappy that it would randomly break. All it took was a prayer and maybe a few nights and it would somehow work again.

Riki Nishimura, a boy your age, was your next-door neighbor. As you’ve lived in your current apartment since you were a child, you’ve known the boy since childhood as well. In fact, both of your parents were at work more often than not. So, on the nights where either of your parents weren’t home (which was most nights), there was an unsung agreement to watch out for each other.

Sometimes if you heard too much crashing and movement from Riki’s side of the wall (oh, damn those thin walls), you’d just give him a little shout.

It wasn’t an ideal living situation. In fact, it was messy, annoying, and sometimes downright scary. And yet, this was your life, and there was no escaping it.

Tonight wasn't anything special. 

Your shower had broken down once again, and of course, as you always did, you appeared at Riki’s door, in a bathrobe and slippers with your shower caddy and a towel. Cold and shivering, you cursed under your breath. 

Why did your shower have to break down on the coldest night of the year??

As children, you and Riki had a casual relationship. You actually went to the same elementary and middle schools— and now the same high school. You’d end up walking together to and from school everyday. So many days where you’d get ice cream or milk cartons together, and so many more days where you’d inevitably come over to his apartment to play on his gameboy because he wouldn’t shut up about it. And of course, you’d have to help each other out sometimes. 

He was a quiet guy, not someone who had a lot to say, but easily riled up. He was never great at getting along with people. 

You’re not as close to him as you used to be. He's rather lonesome and brooding, though he has bursts of energy and you're reminded of his fiery personality that stuck with him even through childhood.

Still, he was your friend. You were all grown up now, but it didn't mean that you weren't comfortable around him. If there was anyone that you felt comfortable around, it had to be Riki.

But, something has been weird lately.

You couldn't put your finger on, but lately, you couldn't look at Riki the same way. Sometimes it was normal, but some other times, you'd feel an uncharacteristic feeling of shyness around him. You simply couldn't wrap your head around it— but you just felt so, so, so weird around him

It was strange.

Walking with him to school every morning, you had a heightened awareness of what words he said, and more importantly, the way his raspy voice sounded. When the cool winter wind blew, you'd pick up the scent of his cologne, and for a moment, you'd think that he smelled nice.

Sometimes you'd accidentally brush your hand against his. For someone that you used to take baths with as a kid, it shouldn't be weird. But now it was.

Maybe it was just teenage hormones.

As you slowly undressed, you took a glance at Riki’s bathroom sink. Other than his toothbrush, his deodorant bottle, and maybe a few colognes, his sink was practically empty, very different from your own that had makeup, skincare, and the like cluttered around the sink. 

You folded your clothes neatly before stepping into the steaming shower. 

Since Riki’s apartment was in the same complex, it was identical to yours in build. And as you basked in the warm water, humming a tune from your favorite song, it almost felt like you were in your own bathroom.

You were almost forgetting that you were in Riki’s shower when you heard a little click! and suddenly hard rock music was blasting from the other side of the door.

Immediately, your eyes shot open.

“Will you turn it down?!” you shouted, though you were certain from the reverberation and echo in your voice that you were muffled. Geez, how rude of him to disturb your peaceful shower! You swore you heard Riki laughing his ass off from the other side. Asshole.

You relished in the warm shower on your skin, as best as you could despite Riki’s music. 

It felt normal for a few moments, until you were suddenly hit with that weird feeling of shyness. Riki's laugh rang in your head, the melodic tune of his hard rock bouncing off the walls. Has his laugh always sounded like that? 

You huffed, pushing it to the back of your mind.

Don't be weird about him, the little voice in your head said. It's just Riki.

You’re lost in thought as you finish your nice shower. The bathroom is still steamy as you step out of the shower, drying yourself off. 

Dry off completely, put on some body lotion, and maybe do some skincare, and now it's time to put on some clothes and—

Wait.

Where are your clothes?

You swore you brought your pajamas when you came knocking. Right? 

You were in your robe and bath slippers, and you made sure to bring in your caddy your body wash, lotion, and— oh my God, you 100% left your change of clothes in your room… instead of taking it with you!

So now you either put your bathrobe, which was soaked already, on…. or do the unthinkable.

Ugh.

Slowly, holding your towel tightly around you, you peeked your head out from the bathroom door. You felt your cheeks heating up as the boy snapped his head toward you. No longer the little boy you knew him as, he was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, scrolling on his phone and jamming to his music. 

Your gaze fell over his features—his once round and star-filled eyes now sharp, and his once squishy cheeks replaced by a strong jaw. 

Your heart skipped a beat. He looked so different, yet the same as you always remembered.

When did he grow up?

"Riki..." you stammered. The way Riki's face immediately contorted, morphing into a highly questioning expression as he fixed his gaze on you. And you didn't know why, but when his eyes met yours, you felt a newfound feeling of shyness. Something that you never felt around him of all people. "Riki, I—I think I left my clothes."

Your neighbor stared at you for a few moments, and for a second, you could almost swear that he was boring holes into you. You shifted uncomfortably, leaning into the doorframe to hide yourself. It's that odd feeling toward him again.

Then, he clicked his tongue, before sighing exasperatedly and getting up.

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Where did you leave them?"

You squeaked. You thought back to earlier, just before your shower broke down. Did you lay out a fresh pair of pajamas to wear?

No, you didn't.

"U-Um," you stumbled over your words. This was really embarrassing. Your cheeks burned. "I didn't leave them—Canyougointomyroomandgetmyclothesfrommydrawers?"

Riki stared at you again, his slim eyes narrowing. He sighed again, muttering something under his breath that sounded too much like, "You're an idiot."

You murmured a thank you, and as he left the room, you shouted after him, "My front door's unlocked!"

After a few minutes of waiting in Riki Nishimura's bathroom, with your heart beating uncharacteristically fast, and in nothing but a bath towel, you finally heard the front door of the Nishimura apartment open and close.

"I have your clothes," Riki said coolly as he knocked on the bathroom door.

"Oh, thank you, Riki!" you cried in joy, the door much wider now. "I really owe you— T-Tomorrow I'll buy you a milk."

Maybe a little joyful.

Because you didn't notice your bath towel slipping down from your body and your chest was mere centimeters from being exposed—

Riki's hand jerked, immediately zapping out to grab the hem of the towel wrapped around your chest, gripping it tightly so that it stayed in place.

You squeaked again. "R-Riki?"

"Your—Your towel," he mumbled, and suddenly, his eyes that were so focused on you looked straight at the floor.

"Oh." Your cheeks flared with warmth. You snatched the sloppily-folded clothes that Riki got for you. You flashed Riki an awkward smile. 

"Thanks!" and then you shut the door immediately. 

How embarrassing! 

You rested your back against the bathroom door, holding your clothes close to your chest. Your eyes glazed over the way Riki had folded them, though it was a poor job. You snickered. One look at Riki's room, and it was clear that he wasn't the most organized person. But just because he knew you liked to keep things neat he folded your clothes just for you. How sweet of him.

You were about to forget the abnormal feelings of discomfort and shyness that you harbored toward him, when there was another knock on the bathroom door.

"[Name]..." Riki's voice was shaky, the shakiest that you've ever heard him. You hummed in response. "I think I— I think I forgot to give you your panties."

Oh my god.

The door barely cracked in and Riki threw you your panties, before the door slammed shut again.

Actually mortifying.

When you were done with your business, you took all of your belongings, carrying them out. Since the only way to get to the bathroom was to go through Riki’s room, the condensation and steam, scented with your body wash and shampoo, diffused through his room, filling the space with a sweet scent.

Riki, who was now sprawled across his bed, was reading manga, his head buried between the pages. Like always.

"Your body wash smells like strawberries," Riki remarked plainly as you left the bathroom and entered his room. 

"Yeah," you scoffed, pointing at the big lettering on your body wash bottle, reading strawberry-scented. "That's the point."

You could hear Riki snort. Slowly, he poked his head out of the manga book. His slim eyes stared into you, before you felt them travel down your body.

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip. There it was again. That weird feeling of shyness.

He threw his manga aside, before he stood up and inched toward you.

Has Riki always been this tall? And big? You don't remember him being that much taller than you.

Before you knew it, Riki was right in front of you, with his neck bent down to stare directly at your chest, eyes squinting.

"W-What are you looking at?!" you cried.

"Is that my shirt?"

"Wh—"

"I swear that's my shirt," Riki said, bringing his face even closer to your chest to get a better look. Mind you, it was the shirt that he picked from your closet to bring to you. It was an old Naruto shirt, and you couldn't remember when you got it. "Did you take my shirt? When did you get this shirt?"

"I don't know!" You put one hand on his head, pushing him away. You hear Riki yelping, followed by complaining, but you tune it out. "Stop looking at my boobs and maybe I'll tell you!"

Riki shut up. His eyes stared at you, widened and with his lips parted. Your cheeks felt hot, burning hot.

"I— I'm sorry," Riki stammered, and unfortunately, Riki was incredibly bad at hiding how he was feeling... because you could feel his eyes darting toward your chest again. "I didn't mean to—"

"Shut up!" you cried. Embarrassment took over. "I'm a girl, you know! You can't just stare at me and expect it to be okay!"

Riki, just as embarrassed as you, cried back, "Well, I forget that you're a girl sometimes! So cut me some slack!"

You groaned loudly, storming out of his apartment, tuning out his yelling while trying to ignore your own embarrassment.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Riki Nishimura is so stupid. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

You stormed back to your apartment, slamming the door as loud as you could. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your cheeks feeling as if they'd been lit on fire. You marched right to your bedroom, ignoring the sound of your broken shower dripping. You threw everything aside, plopping straight onto your bed.

You were so embarrassed you were near tears, shoving your face in your pillows.

Why did Riki make you feel this way all of a sudden? On a normal day, you'd fight back, maybe even throw the first punch. But why were you now so resigned?

And you're just about to scream into your pillow and maybe do some stress-relief strategies when you hear a giant crack, another crash, and then suddenly your apartment was cold. You let out a shriek.

Freezing cold.

Usually it would take some time to notice that your heater had broken. In fact, in the summer you wouldn't even notice. But tonight was arguably one of the coldest nights in the entire year. So you noticed the way your home began to seemingly freeze over almost immediately.

You curled up under your blankets.

On nights like this, you always knew what to do: knock on Riki's door, and stay the night at his place. At least, under the assumption that his heating system didn't break down either.

But after what happened earlier, you didn't want to see Riki. Not now, not ever.

He's stupid and childish and insensitive! you thought. 

You huddled under your blankets. Shivering, you tried your best to ignore the cold. But without an internal heating system, you swore ice was going to form in your house.

Maybe you should go ask Riki...

Your mind drifted back.

His slim eyes, his annoyingly smug face that contorted into one of embarrassment. His sharp jaw and his steely gaze. Your heart sped up. It was just yesterday that Riki was a little boy. And now he was handsome. Really handsome, that it intimidated you.

You still felt like the little girl that would play fight with him and squish your cheek up against his. But now that you were grown, it didn't feel right to touch him the same way that you used to. There was a wall now.

Riki has always been Riki. He's never been anything more to you than just Riki. But now he was attractive.

And it was frustrating you.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when you hear banging at the door and a familiar voice.

"Oi, [Name]!" It was Riki. You squeaked at the sound of his voice. "You good in there?!"

You didn't respond.

"I heard a scream, did something happen?" A few moments pass, and you still don't respond. Except, Riki is smarter than you think. "I know you're in there. I'm not going to leave until you say something!"

You huffed again. With your blankets draped over your shoulders and dragging behind your feet, you trudged to the door. Damn him.

"What do you want?" you squeaked as your door flew open, your eyes looking everywhere but into his. 

Riki cocked a brow at you, and you huffed again. "Fine, my heater broke. Not a big deal."

"Why didn't you call me?" Riki's brows crashed together. "It's near-freezing outside."

"It's not that cold," you murmured, but Riki scowled, clicking his tongue. He was observant, and you knew he knew you were lying when his eyes fell down to your feet covered in layers of fluffy socks and to your legs that were shivering under the blankets.

"Stop lying, I know you're cold," he scoffed. "Come over. My heater's fine."

"I don't want to."

Riki reached out, your hands falling into his. "Your hands are freezing, come on."

And you'd object, if it weren't for the way his warm hands felt in yours, if it weren't for the way you already felt warmer with Riki.

Contrary to popular belief, Riki Nishimura was actually a pretty difficult person to read.

Well, at least, that's what he hoped.

It's no secret to anyone that Riki cared deeply about you. Riki's annoyed easily and he's a loner but that doesn't mean he's emotionless. Even though sometimes he feels like you view him that way.

Though, that seemed to be the general pattern.

Everyone knew that Riki was enamored with you. And yet, you didn't seem to realize that in the slightest. Because you're dense and just as stupid as he is. And to be fair, he tends to be quiet when he's around you.

One day Riki woke up and he realized that you weren't just you, but a very pretty girl, too. And the next thing he knew, you were all he could think about. You had always kept him at an arm's distance, and frankly, Riki was okay with that. As long as he got to keep you in his life, he was happy.

Maybe a little cynical for a boy his age, but Riki was so sure that he'd never have a chance with you. You were sweet and pretty, and he was everything but.

"Why are you still wearing just pajamas?" Riki couldn't help but scold you, rummaging through his closet searching for a hoodie for you to wear. "It was freezing in your apartment!"

You didn't say anything.

"And why didn't you come to me? You know my heater never breaks, and—"

You just sat on his bed, both your and his blanket over your shoulders, completely silent, eyes staring at the ground.

Riki bit the inside of his cheek.

Had he made you uncomfortable earlier? It killed him knowing that he did.

Riki sighed. His stomach pitted.

He glanced at your face: pretty as always, but awfully vacant.

Damn it, he thought. Did he just ruin it?

Riki inched toward you, a hoodie in hand. He murmured something under his breath, placing the hoodie down next to you on his bed.

His chest felt heavy.

He never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable. In a world full of weirdos Riki always wanted to be your friend.

"Hey," he started, his voice soft. "I'm really— I'm really sorry about earlier."

Your eyes gazed up at him, blinking slowly, and before you could respond, Riki continued.

"I... I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," his voice stayed quiet, but Riki kept his eyes on your face. "I- I—"

"Wait what?" You finally said, your face contorted. "You didn't make me uncomfortable."

"But..." Riki's brows furrowed together. You looked at him, your eyes locked together. You stared at him for a few moments, before you huffed. 

"Just shut up," you muttered, before curling further into Riki's bed, turning your back to him.

Riki stood there, staring at your back. He dug his nails into his palm. It was so weird, for it to be awkward between you and him.

"Aren't you cold too?" you asked slowly after a few seconds. 

"Right," Riki blinked. "Can I— Should I lay with you? Or..."

Riki watched your expression twitch. "I-It's your bed. You can do whatever y-you want."

"Right."

So awkward.

Both you and Riki laid in his bed, like planks, refusing to get to close. Which was weird, because you and him used to nap together all the time as kids.

The two of you laid in silence, until you broke it.

"Riki, is your heater on?"

He hummed. "Yeah. Is it not warm enough?"

You sniffled, and now that Riki heard your voice, you sounded raspy and dry. "I think I.. I think I'm coming down with a cold."

Riki could feel you physically shaking beside him, shivering like crazy. His hand reached out for your face. You let out a small eep! as you flinched away.

Riki jerked his hand away from you.

You stared at his startled expression. "S-Sorry."

Riki's hand crept closer to your face again. "Can I?"

You nodded, and Riki brought his hand up to feel your forehead.

"Shit, you're really warm," he muttered. "Do you feel feverish?"

You shook your head. Riki was about to bring his hand away, but you clutched his wrist, keeping his hand there on your forehead. 

"Don't," you said, as your eyelids fell shut. "You're so warm."

Riki watched with a warm face as you nuzzled into his large hands. Under his palm, you still shivered with such ardor. 

Like when you were kids, Riki's arm slithered down to your shoulder carefully. Before he pulled you closer, with his voice as low as a whisper, he asked, "Can I?"

You only hummed, and that was all Riki needed to pull you into his embrace. You were still trembling, and despite being buried under layers and layers of blankets, your skin was so cold to the touch.

You let out a small squeak, before you pushed your face closer into him.

"So cold," you said into his chest.

"I know," Riki whispered. "I know, [Name]."

Your breath was now slowing down, your words slurring as you mumbled a small thanks under your breath.

"Of course," he said back, chuckling as you seemingly tried to dig yourself into his skin.

"Love you," you murmured, and everything froze for Riki. "Thanks for everything, Riki."

And with that, you were asleep.

Fighting the stupid grin that was taking purchase on his face, Riki could only breathe into your ear, "I love you, too."

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hello queen. You are my favourite writer on tumblr. I'm always so excited when I see that you updated something. Could I please request Carlos daughter being a huge Barcelona football fan instead of Real Madrid. And when the drivers all together watch a game against those two and Real wins, Carlos daughter running to Charles cause her father made her team lose

Thank you so much 💓

Real vs Barca

The paddock buzzed with its usual pre-race energy. Engineers ran last-minute checks, journalists hovered with their microphones at the ready, and fans crowded the stands, hoping for a glimpse of their favorite drivers. But amid all the racing chaos, Carlos had only one thing on his mind today: El Clásico.

It wasn’t just any match—it was Real Madrid vs. Barcelona. A day of rivalry, passion, and, most importantly, a chance for him to rub in Madrid’s superiority once and for all.

But there was one major problem.

His own daughter, Yn, was a Barcelona fan.

Carlos still didn’t understand how it happened. He had done everything right. When Yn was born, he had immediately wrapped her in a Real Madrid onesie, played Madrid anthems in the nursery, and even taught her to clap whenever he said “Hala Madrid.” For a while, it worked. She would happily wear Madrid’s white jersey, cheering along without question.

Then she turned four.

Suddenly, she had opinions. Suddenly, she loved FC Barcelona.

It had started with her favorite color—blue. Then it was the cool Barcelona crest, then the way her little heart decided Gavi was her favorite player. And now, today, in the motorhome filled with drivers who came to watch the game, she stood proudly in a tiny Barcelona jersey with Gavi’s name printed on the back.

Carlos groaned in despair.

“Mi amor, por favor, why are you doing this to me?” he sighed dramatically, kneeling to her level.

Yn giggled, her brown eyes sparkling mischievously. “Barca is the best, Papá!”

“No, mija, Madrid is the best,” Carlos corrected, fixing her jersey like he could erase the colors from existence. “We are Madridistas in this house.”

Yn shook her head firmly. “I am Barca.”

“Dios mío,” Carlos muttered, standing up as Max, Lando, Pierre, and Charles walked into the room, holding bowls of snacks and drinks.

“Are we ready for the drama?” Lando smirked, plopping onto the couch.

“The game or the father-daughter war?” Pierre teased, nodding toward Carlos, who had his arms crossed, glaring at the tiny Barcelona fan.

“The war,” Max answered, throwing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Because if Barca wins, Carlos might actually cry.”

Carlos groaned. “She’s four! She’s supposed to listen to me.”

“She’s four,” Charles corrected, leaning against the table with a smug grin. “She does what she wants.”

Yn grinned up at her uncle Charlie and reached her little arms out. “Up!”

Carlos watched in horror as his own daughter abandoned him and climbed into Charles’ arms, snuggling against him.

“Oh, come on!” Carlos threw his hands in the air. “She’s my daughter!”

“She’s also my niece,” Charles teased, poking Yn’s side and making her giggle. “And clearly, she has taste.”

“She does not have taste!” Carlos objected. “She’s four, she doesn’t even know what taste is!”

Yn gasped dramatically. “I do know! And Barca is better.”

Max whistled lowly. “Oof, Carlos, I think she’s got you there.”

Carlos covered his face with his hands. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

As the game started, the room filled with anticipation. Carlos sat on the couch, Yn nestled beside Charles, her little legs swinging off the edge. Every time Barcelona touched the ball, she cheered loudly, clapping her hands.

Carlos groaned. His own daughter was against him.

“She’s happy,” Charles said with a chuckle, rubbing Yn’s back.

“I am not,” Carlos deadpanned.

The game was intense. Real Madrid took the lead, and Carlos cheered loudly, pumping his fists in the air. Yn pouted, crossing her arms. Then Barcelona equalized, and she jumped up, screaming excitedly, throwing her little arms around Charles.

Carlos watched in betrayal.

When Real Madrid scored again, Carlos lifted his arms victoriously.

“¡Vamos! That’s what I’m talking about!” He grinned at Yn. “See, mi amor? Madrid is better.”

Yn stuck out her tongue at him. “Not true!”

The final minutes were nerve-wracking, but when the referee blew the whistle, the score read 2-1 to Real Madrid.

Carlos jumped up, celebrating like he had won a Grand Prix.

Yn, however, looked absolutely devastated. Her little face fell, her lip wobbling, eyes glassy with tears.

“Mi niña, don’t be sad,” Carlos said quickly, kneeling in front of her. “It’s just a game, okay? You’ll win next time.”

Yn sniffled. Then, her little eyebrows furrowed, and she glared at Carlos.

“This is your fault.”

Carlos blinked. “What?”

Yn stomped her tiny foot. “You were too happy! That’s why Barca lost!”

The entire room erupted into laughter.

“No, no, no,” Carlos quickly shook his head, trying to grab her hands, but Yn turned and ran straight into Charles’ arms.

Carlos was left, kneeling on the floor, watching as his daughter buried her little face into Charles’ chest while he rubbed her back comfortingly.

“Carlos,” Lando wheezed through laughter.

Pierre wiped a tear from his eye. “Man, you shouldn't have cheered so much for Real. Look at poor Yn.”

“Not my fault!” Carlos objected, still in shock. “Why am I the bad guy?”

Yn peeked up from Charles’ shoulder and glared at her Papá. “Because you made Barca lose.”

Carlos groaned dramatically. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Max clapped him on the back. “At least Madrid won?”

Carlos sighed, defeated, watching his daughter cling to Charles. He would need a new strategy. Maybe next season, he could convince her to switch teams. Until then… he had lost this battle.

But not the war.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves!I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀

[jeondesu]

ೀ⋆ 📚 THE PERFECT PAIR !

── ✧ ˚. ꒰ 𝓹airing ꒱ ˒˓ nerd!han jisung x popular!f!reader 𝓰enre/𝓽ags. college au, fluff, angst (kinda but not rlly), minor profanity, jisung is the cutiest pie ever oml 𝔀ords. 2.3k

[ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. ] — omg, i just realized i haven’t posted an actual written fic on here in FOREVER that’s crazy, we need to change that. but n e way, this is actually for @sta4, i’m so sorry this took a gazillion years (pls forgive me) and i rlly hope you liked it <3

“Be honest… do you think she noticed?” Jisung looked visibly in distress, his face drained of all color as if he’d just witnessed a paranormal sighting in his own dorm.

“Dude she definitely saw it, you blew it. Big time.” Jeongin states matter-of-factly, as if it were the end all be all.

Jisung slumped backwards, sinking into the mattress, dark brunette strands tumbled haphazardly over the pillow as he stared up at the ceiling. He’d been overthinking and analyzing every little detail for hours since that fleeting encounter you had with him in class this morning. He didn’t want to believe a word his friend was telling him, still latching onto a sliver of hope that you hadn’t took a peek at his laptop screen before he slammed it shut the second you walked up to him.

He grimaced at the thought of you taking note of his Goku wallpaper, everything happened so fast, he wasn’t given much time to react— though he’s almost 99% positive you hadn’t caught sight of it.

You approached him with a confident stride, your head held high, even adding a little wave which he barely registered as being directed towards him. He thought he was hallucinating from being so sleep deprived, staying up all night playing video games might’ve finally took a toll on him— but as he blinks again to snap out of his ‘dream’, you’re still standing right there.

Jisung was more than confused why you of all people would want to talk to him, praying by some miracle you couldn’t detect how much of a nervous wreck he was on the inside, forcing a stiff smile as he tried his best to play it off like he totally wasn’t losing his mind.

The strong scent of your perfume lingered in the air, making it even more of a struggle for him to breathe, let alone speak, but he couldn’t shake off the embarrassment. If you knew how much of a weeb he truly was, he’d probably never show his face around you or on campus ever again.

“Okay, maybe there’s a possibility she may have seen it, but only for a split second! Otherwise, I think I played it cool.” He recants, brushing off his friend’s lack of verbal support, “I was in the middle of an intense game of Tetris and she asked for my notes!”

Jeongin shrugs, “Okay, so..? That doesn’t suddenly make her interested in you.”

“Yeah it does, because she asked me specifically out of everyone else so that’s gotta mean something, right?” He reaffirms, the hopeful tone in his voice laced with sheer desperation.

Jeongin shifts slightly, leaning further into the comfort of his gaming chair, not even bothering to pause his game of League of Legends to entertain his friend’s delusions. He didn’t mean to crush Jisung’s ego with his cynicism but he had to be realistic.

“You sound like those giddy high school girls who just interacted with their crush for the first time.”

Well, he wasn’t lying, he surely did feel like one. Ever since you spoke to him earlier all he could think about was you— nothing else occupied his mind. He couldn’t concentrate on a single thing, couldn’t retain any of the information he read as he studied, or even play League which was his favorite game of all time. He was deeply, utterly infatuated and his thoughts were scattered all over the place.

Jisung sinks his teeth into his lower lip, swallowing an unnecessarily thick lump that’s been sitting in the back of his throat, “Look, all I’m saying is I don’t think I totally blew it. She even winked back at me when she left! She’s into me, I can feel it.”

Jeongin chuckles at his friend’s sudden newfound confidence but still remains unconvinced.

“We’ll see about that tomorrow when she ignores you and forgets that you even existed.”

+

The next day in class, Jisung is doing everything he can to try and maintain a nonchalant demeanor but it wasn’t working— at all. He’d completely thrown his ‘cool’ act out the window the minute he accidentally locked eyes with you, not even noticing how he’s been anxiously bouncing his leg underneath the desk.

He could’ve sworn you were an otherworldly being, he didn’t even feel adequate enough to be sitting in the same room as you.

You had sat a couple rows ahead of him, he preferred to always sit in the back along with Jeongin. He couldn’t help but stare, you were simply nothing short of perfect— lost in a trance as he watched you absentmindedly twirl the pencil you had borrowed from him along with his notes from the day before.

You had jotted down a few things in your spiral notebook, but it seemed as though you weren’t paying much attention to the lecture, copying most of your friend’s notes who sat beside you, every so often you’d be giggling at something she whispered to you— having been shushed by the professor more than once already.

Class went on as usual— it dragged on slower than it normally did, but maybe that was because Jisung kept zoning in and out. He didn’t take very many notes since he already knew most of the material like the back of his hand, but he still pretended to anyway, scribbling nonsense in the margins just to keep his hands busy, not even realizing that he’s wrote your name several times with hearts surrounding it, flipping the page immediately before Jeongin could notice what he’d been mindlessly up to.

Once class was officially over, everyone scrambled out of their seats to rush out of there as quickly as possible. Jeongin had one more class left that took place in ten minutes, bidding his goodbyes before he dashed out the classroom. Jisung slung his bag over his shoulder, getting ready to leave— until you appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, the sweet scent of your perfume infiltrating his senses once again.

Holding your notebooks flat against your chest, your delicate, freshly manicured hand tapped his arm lightly— just enough to get his attention. As if you didn’t already have it given to you on a silver platter.

He froze in place, still recovering from the shock of the events that unfolded from yesterday.

“Hey Jisung, I was wondering if-”

“Yes.” He blurts without hesitation before you could even finish your sentence, instantly regretting everything— oh how he wants to bash his head against the wall repeatedly at this very moment..

You could see the desperation seeping through his pores, but you don’t point it out. It was honestly kind of cute to you and you found it endearing how timid he’d act around you, a stark contrast from most of the frat boys you’d often interact with.

He attempts to save himself by quickly rephrasing his words, only to come off as more socially inept than he already is. “S-sorry.. it’s been a long day for me. Uh, what did you need..?”

You giggled softly, “I was wondering if you could help me with statistics? Unfortunately I’m not doing very well and can’t afford to flunk this semester, so I was hoping you could tutor me?” Your eyes beamed at him as if they held a million galaxies in them.

“Y-yeah, sure. I can help!” He awkwardly responds, adjusting his thick framed glasses by pushing them up with his index and middle finger.

A smile spreads across your face upon hearing that, “oh, awesome!” You weren’t expecting him to readily agree on the spot, but it worked out in your favor perfectly. “So, what days are you free?”

24/7. Every hour. Every minute. Every second. He would simply rearrange his whole life for you.

“Usually I’m free on Tuesdays or Thursdays, sometimes Wednesdays but it depends,” he answers, trying to sound as if he’s been asked this a million times before. “But.. if none of those days don’t work for you, I can work something else out.”

That was a total lie. There was nothing he needed to work out.

“Oh and weekends are kinda iffy for me,” he added.

Yet another lie. He was quite literally always free.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays works out perfectly for me, actually!” You take up his offer right away, “how does tomorrow after school at my place sound?”

You spoke so casually, completely unfazed, as if you weren’t actively flipping his entire world upside down. He simply nodded. Somehow managing not to freak out instead of dropping to his knees in front of you like some lovesick puppy.

“Cool! Wanna exchange numbers?” You calmly suggest while pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans.

Jisung nervously gulped, his throat going dry yet again as he slowly feels himself about to have a mental breakdown.

You wanted his phone number?

Now he’ll really get the last laugh when he rubs it in Jeongin’s face that he’s got one of the prettiest and most popular girls at school’s number. You switch phones and he adds his contact information into yours to which you do the same for him.

Once you gave it back, his heart nearly leaps out of his chest when he sees the contact name you set in his phone: ‘y/n <3’

+

“C’mon y/n, we only have four more problems left.” Jisung is doing all he can to try and motivate you, pointing his finger at the next problem he urged you to solve but you groaned in response.

You invited him over to your dorm while your other roommate would be gone for a couple of hours, opting to study in your room rather than the common area. Your room was on the smaller scale, but still had a warm and cozy atmosphere to it. Movie posters and fairy lights lined the walls of your side, along with dozens of little random trinkets you’ve collected over the years as decoration, and succulent plants sat on the window sill. The vanilla candle you burned added a nice touch, it was calming, tranquil— exactly how Jisung imagined it to be.

“I can’t do this anymore..” you draw out a heavy sigh, looking at the equation as it were in a third language. Math has always been your Achilles heel, it was your least favorite subject and you barely passed by the skin of your teeth each time.

“My brain’s going to explode if I continue this for another minute,” you couldn’t even force yourself to power through, you were beyond over it. Yes, you were being a little overdramatic, but you got the point across— you needed a well deserved break.

His hand accidentally brushed up against yours to grab a colored pencil, “okay, if you really need a break then let’s take one and I’m sorry if I’m overwhelming you in any way. I’ll finish the problem for you and we can stop for a while.” He writes the rest of the equation down on the worksheet and turns to you to hand the colored pencil back, hoping that you don’t notice his flushed exterior.

You lean your arm against the desk, resting the side of your face inside your palm, “can’t believe this is my life now.. studying for my stupid stats exams instead of having fun with my friends.”

Jisung couldn’t help but take some pride in himself for that, sure you may be just using him as a personal tutor but at least he’s getting to spend one on one time with you.

“So you chose studying with me over hanging out with your friends?”

He still couldn’t believe he was even here, he almost had a heart attack when you texted him first that same day you asked to exchange numbers. He would spend minutes contemplating over every little word, every punctuation, and if he wasn’t sure how to respond, he’d simply send you some weird meme that he found while scrolling on Reddit. His phone used to be drier than a desert, but now he’s checking it every 5 seconds in case he gets a new message from you.

“Yeah, I mean I could always see them another time but I refuse to retake this class again over the summer,” you shrugged, “plus you seem pretty cool, I like hanging out with you.”

Was he hearing things correctly? Did one of the most popular girls on campus just say that she likes hanging out with him? He truly felt like he was dreaming— yeah, he had to be dreaming.

“I didn’t think you hung out with guys like me..”

Your brows furrowed, glancing over at him as if he’d just said the most absurd news you’ve ever heard. “And what makes you think that?”

“Uh- I dunno.” He stammered, his eyes darting across the room, looking everywhere but at you.

Curse him for being so damn awkward… and curse you for being the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on.

You couldn’t help but giggle, “I actually think you’re really cute,” you confess, choosing a less subtle approach about expressing your feelings, “you’re nice and super smart too, which most guys aren’t.”

The two of you stayed in silence for what seemed like an eternity before he grew the ability to choke up a response, his ears burning the deepest shade of crimson, “Well.. thank you.”

“I mean it.” You solemnly replied, “Also, I think your Goku wallpaper is really cool.”

So you did notice it after all. But you didn’t care, you took interest in him because he was authentically himself, you liked him exactly for who he is— he’s never pretended to be something that he’s not.

Before you even gave him the opportunity to speak, you decide to lay it all out on the table. Harboring no regrets. “I like you a lot, Jisung.”

He paused, still trying to process everything that’s been thrown at him in a matter of seconds, but he could no longer deny the way he felt. The corners of his lips curled upward, his gummy smile making an eventual appearance, knowing exactly where this leads after he says those final words.

“I really like you too, y/n.”

it’s literally 3 am and i am SO SLEEPY, but i had to finish this for you guys <33 pls lmk if you liked this, likes/comments/reblogs are much appreciated tysm !! ( *ﾉ ▽ﾉ) ✧･ﾟ

[gakukitty]

BF HCS x sakamoto days

summary . bf! character hcs frooooommm .. SAKAMOTO DAYS !!! yipeeee!!!!!

wc . 1.7k

cw . THE CHARACTERS ARREEE : shin asakura , kei uzuki , gaku , nagumo yoichi , heisuke mashimo , natsuki seba , shishiba . there’s nothing suggestive i think and ummm everything is pretty cool and ok !

masterlist ౨ৎ

shin

extra . since shin can read minds, yours included (even tho he feels a little bad), he can always tell when you’re cold! before you can even open your mouth, shin’s already wrapping his scarf around your neck and draping his jacket over your shoulders :3

extra . he kinda seems like the type of guy to hold your heels if ur feet get sore or tie your shoelaces if they get untied !

kisses . i feel like shin would like to kiss your cheeks!

also, hc about kissing — the first time he leaned in for a kiss, you turned your head a little which caused him to completely miss (much to his embarrassment) so now, he always pays close attention to what you’re thinking and his hand is ready to tilt your head back :p

confession . i’d say that shin was pretty shy when confessing to u ! not like , stuttering and teeth-chattering shy, but just a little flustered and fidgety. probably took you to a nice cafe or just somewhere he knows that you like and when he saw your smile , he was like ‘okay this is it , now or never’

hand placement . he def likes to hold hands ! (even if he’s a little scared that his palms are sweaty)

extra . this is a little bit of a strange one but i think that shin would be soooo respectful with ur stuff. the thought of even looking at or without your permission makes him feel bad , yk ?!

idk i just feel like shin would be such a good bf he’s the sweetest ever (｡ŏ_ŏ)

kei uzuki

kisses . a bit of a classic , but he just loves your lips ! ohhh, but i feel like he’d like kissing your hands and wrist (and occasionally brushing his lips across your knuckles) too :3

confession . i think he was probably just a liiittle scared to say something about his feelings at first ! he probably brought you somewhere nice , like a restaurant or a bookstore if that’s your thing. definitely took your hand, intertwining your fingers and whispering his feelings to you.

extra . he definitely likes holding hands in my opinion !! but when he does , he’s soo gentle about it — i just feel like he’d be a pretty gentle lover

hand placement . def likes putting his hand on the small of your back. veeerry gentle about it, though ! sometimes it makes you tickle a little because of the brush of his fingers.

extra . he’s probably very careful with you; he wants to make sure that you’re safe , comfortable , happy and all that !

extra . ok this miighhtt be a little ooc but i think he’d be a little shy sometimes .. just like , his heart beats slightly faster and the tips of his ears flush when he sees you because he just loves you so much !!

extra . i think that he likes getting you flowers as gifts ! ooo ooo or pretty jewellery !!!!

gaku

confession . probably asked you out one night when you’re both lounging on his couch, maybe playing games .. he just looked at you, saw your cute face, and said; “we should date.” or something like that !

extra . idk he kinda seems like the type to enjoy sharing drinks / food with you , like having two straws in a milkshake or letting you take a bite out of his sandwich!

kisses . sometimes, he feels a little lazy so he kisses your jaw, neck, and the corner of your mouth a lot instead of your lips :3 as much as he loves kissing them, he’s grown to like kissing the other cute spots on u ♡ !

hand placement . he likes wrapping his arms around ur waist definitely!! hugs onto you like you’re some sort of plush toy— and definitely rests his chin on ur shoulder !!!

extra . i feel like he’d just be pretty comfortable with u (i mean obviously , he’s ur bf) but i mean comfortable in the way that he doesn’t really care— he’s shirtless ? it’s whatever. his hair’s messy? he likes it when you brush your fingers through his hair anyways. you’re trying to sleep? make room for him !

extra . now, this one’s a little odd but i feel like he doesn’t wear socks often .. and when he does , you kinda find them in the weirdest places. “i’ll pick them up later,” he says. he probably won’t— unless it seems that it’s really bothering you :(

extra . he can be a little bit annoying sometimes; gaku likes teasing you, but ofc he can be nice too ! when he feels like it lol

nagumo yoichi

kisses . he just kisses you wherever ! kinda spontaneous about it , too! you’re laying down on the couch? he’s grabbing your ankles and leaning in to kiss your feet, ignoring your little squeals of embarrassment. just the silly stuff like that >_<

confession . at first , you thought he was just joking around — i mean , this is nagumo we’re talking about ! but when he leans closer, eyes focused on you , it was a little obvious that he was completely serious

hand placement . nagumo is the type who likes to touch you wherever it makes you the most flustered !

extra . his favorite types of dates are probably the unexpected and weird ones . i’m talkint about like, bird-watching , trying new restaurants , sewing classes , watching the worst rated movies and seeing how long it takes you to laugh >_<

extra . nagumo loves making you react to the things he does ! the giggles that escape you when he tickles your sides , the yelp that leaves your lips when he jumpscares you— he loves it aaalll !!

extra . even if he likes teasing you and being a little annoying , nagumo can also be gentle when he wants to ! you aareee the love of his life after all <3

heisuke mashimo

confession . he was sooo scared to say anything!!! it took a lot of nudging and urging from Lu and the others to get him to even talk to you . (they were just tired of his rambling and love-sick smiles whenever you stepped into the store)

kisses . his favourite place to kiss you is definitely your lips !! sometimes he gets a bit too shy and instead kisses your cheek, but he loves ur pretty lips the most (｡・ω・｡)

hand placement . he’s definitely a hand-holder , but started off with linking ur pinkies together (the smallest finger) he wanted to hold ur hand sooo bad , but his heart was beating too fast and his palms were sweating so he went for ur pinky finger instead— overtime he got used to holding hands and touching other places, too !

extra . piisuke really likes you ! and likes to sometimes nudge heisuke in the right direction :3

like one time , heisuke was writing you a letter— he heard you talk to Lu about a movie you were watching and gushing over the male lead writing a love letter to the female lead— but heisuke was just a little too shy to send it to you.. so, piisuke took the initiative and picked it up, already flying to you and dropping the paper into your hands !!

natsuki seba

kisses . honestly , he doesn’t really mind ! he kisses you wherever— but he likes giving you a little lick occasionally. he thinks the look on your face when you notice is very cute !

confession . i can’t really see him making a huge deal over his feelings.. maybe pulls you aside one day or waits until you two are alone and tells you that he likes you. a small, relieved sigh escapes his lips when you say that you like him back !! ♡

hand placement . probably likes patting your head. i also feel like he’d enjoy touching your hips n waist but idk why .. it’s just a feeling yk !

extra . natsuki likes resting his head on your lap when he’s got free time. he just thinks your thighs are soo warm and soo nice that he can’t help but sleep there!

off topic but his hair looks so.. touchable !!

extra . i think that he’d like going on dates where the two of u try out different sweets / pastries / just yummy stuff in general !

extra . adding onto dates that he’d like , i think that going to those photobooth thinks with natsuki would be sooo much fun!! he definitely keeps a few pics in his phonecase and sticks them on the wall of his workshop (somewhere safe ofc)

shishiba

hand placement . he’s soo sweet idc what anyyyooonneee says !!! he def likes touching the small of your back , gently guiding you to wherever. he likes holding hands, too— but only because he loves interlocking ur fingers :3 and his hand soometimes sneaks to ur waist >w<

kisses . he likes kissing your lips the most! not much else to say about that — but shishiba definitely always kisses you the like it’ll be the first and last time !

confession . hmm this one’s a little hard .. but i feel like he probably took you out on a walk one evening after work (and after showering, it’s probably not very good to ask someone out with blood all over you) and ended up confessing half-way through. he wanted to say it at the end but was a liitttllee too eager (not that he’d ever admit it out loud)

extra . seems like the type to hold ur bags / other stuff that you’re carrying if it seems like you’re struggling

extra . i feel like he’d ban onions and al that from the house , even plucking them out of your dishes if you both go out, grumbling about “how can anyone like these .. tsk,”

extra . i feel like he’d sometimes just pat your head a little . idk, like a supportive thing ?

© gakukitty please don’t copy my work , repost it and claim as your own , translate , or do anything stupid with it ! try and improve on ur own skills first ♡

[whumpster-fire]

Someone in the notes said:

and he makes sure that his (also grumpy) daughter feels safe loved and self assured

Okay, like... I think he gets marginally better in the 11th and 12th movies (which I'm not rewatching to confirm because "The series actually finally addresses the fact that Cera's mom is dead and that his dad rekindling a relationship with someone she doesn't even know is hard" is pretty much the only thing those two films did well and is very much a B-plot that doesn't actually get enough screen time to justify sitting through the rest of those movies) but Topps doesn't do a very good job of this for at least the entire first half of the series.

Original Film: taught his daughter to be racist. Which to be clear was not working nearly as well as he hoped and the whole reason Cera got separated from her herd is because she snuck off to play with Littlefoot in the middle of the night. She got worse after the whole Sharptooth Attack / giant earthquake separating her from her family thing but, like, Cera started imitating her father's racism more after ending up in a very traumatic situation as a result of disobeying her dad's order to not play with Littlefoot.

Second Movie: Cera makes an incredibly stupid and reckless decision that nearly gets the entire gang killed. Cera, later: "I suppose you all got the same lecture I did? Don't hang around with longnecks, beakfaces and spiketails." (everyone else is shocked because their safety lectures did not involve racism). Just to be clear, the gang tried to cross a lake of quicksand over some stepping stones. This was entirely 100% Cera's idea, nobody else wanted to try it, and her friends putting themselves in danger trying to help her literally saved her life. She would have died before any adult could even get to her. Topps proceeded to try to blame this on her friends being bad influences and is racist about it. Anyway Cera then proposes the group run away from home to prove to the adults that they can take care of themselves, which is also a horrible idea but like. Reading between the lines here Cera is acting out because her idiot father is trying to isolate her from her support system.

Third Movie: this is the one where Topps sings a cool song that some people in the notes mentioned. This moment is somewhat undercut by the fact that this happens while he's trying to bully the rest of the Great Valley into accepting an incredibly stupid water rationing plan and attempting to justify it with the "I'm a parent too and I'm just doing what's best for my child and all our children" card. His plan seems to have been to give every species a set time of day when they were allowed to drink. Nobody else expected him to be stupid enough to include the children who are probably like <1% of the adults' body weight in this, but then it turned out he was that stupid. He then tried to isolate Cera from her friends again, and capped it all off by almost getting himself and Cera killed because he started a pissing contest over not wanting to follow a wildfire evacuation plan because Littlefoot's grandparents came up with it.

Fifth Movie: okay so the Great Valley got hit with a massive locust plague and the entire interspecies herd was forced out of it to look for food. The herd discovers a skeleton of a dinosaur of Ducky's species out in the desert. Topps proceeds to say they can't make any deductions about there being no food in the direction the corpse was traveling from because this species are infamously stupid and the dead one probably got lost. In front of several members of said species. He then instigated such a massive fight that the herds decided to re-split up by species although it's not totally clear if everyone was doing this individually or if it was just the Threehorns. In any case the gang actually runs away this time to avoid being split up with the idea that if they all obviously ran off in the same direction their parents will be forced to search for them in the same direction.

Sixth Movie: Cera is stuck babysitting her much younger niece and nephew (she presumably has an adult sibling that we've never seen) and is sick of it. I do not know what any of the adults involved in this was thinking making the kid who is consistently some random location with her friends instead of hanging out anywhere near her herd and also has run away from home like four times by this point responsible for supervising two gremlin toddlers.

Seventh Movie: Topps is finally right about something: not trusting Petrie's sketchy con artist uncle. Nobody in the friend group except Cera trusts his opinion at all because usually when Topps doesn't trust someone it's because he's racist.

He's not, like, abusive and Cera loves him and is trying to have a good relationship with him, but also his daughter is the one kid in the friend group with a kind of messed up home life, and Topps's role in the adult community of the Great Valley is basically "The worst guy on the HOA board."

Cera's dad in the Land Before Time movies is called Daddy Topps

i need to make sure you all know that

[rosierin]

some things never change │ suna rintarou

synopsis; the twins & suna decide to watch a horror movie, much to (y/n)'s disdain. later that night, when the darkness stares back at her, she's unable to sleep and asks to stay in her childhood friend's room—suna.

a/n; hi guys!!! thanks so much for the support you've been giving me lately! im starting to recognise some of my regular likers & reposters hehe, y'all are sick <33

this fic is only a short one, but i feel like i've been focusing a lot on atsumu lately, even osamu's got his own story but I haven't given suna any attention whatttt

so anyway here ya go hehe, a lil fic focusing on (y/n) and suna's relationship

also!! this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

She shouldn’t have watched that horror movie.

She didn’t even like them in the first place. Whether it was a mere thriller, downright gory, or whatever lay in between, (y/n) avoided them like the plague.

But on a random Saturday night, when boredom seeped into the apartment like a wet blanket, someone (Atsumu) decided it’d be a good idea to liven things up by putting on Rings.

Now—allegedly—this movie wasn’t actually scary. That’s what Suna had said, anyway.

“It’s corny. Barely makes it as a horror film, to be honest. More like a bad comedy.”

Bullshit.

There was absolutely nothing corny, let alone comedic, about an undead lady possessing old VHS tapes and crawling out of TVs to MURDER someone. 

Didn’t matter what the twins or Suna thought.

It was terrifying.

And now—in the dead of night, when everything was silent—it was even worse.

The room was pitch black, save for the tiny red dot on her television, staring back at her like the sight of a sniper.

(Y/n) glared at it, unblinking, unwilling to look away.

Because if—God forbid—it turned blue on its own, that meant the TV had somehow switched on.

That meant she was coming. 

That meant (y/n) was done for. 

Her heartbeat thumped against her ribs, heavy and panicked.

Then—

Creak.

A floorboard groaned against the stillness of the room, nearly sending (y/n) into a full-blown panic attack.

Nope. Nope.

Enough was enough.

She tossed the covers aside and bolted.

Her feet barely touched the floor as she sprinted into the hallway, the cool air hitting her like a slap.

She stopped there, pressing a hand over her racing heart, trying to collect herself.

Breathe. Just breathe.

Her pulse slowly settled, but her pride took a hit. Because realistically, was she being dramatic?

Absolutely.

But could she be blamed?

Not even a little.

From a safe distance, she cautiously peered back into her bedroom—half-expecting to see Sadako standing in the corner, her long, raven hair hanging lifelessly over her face.

Instead—darkness.

Eerie. Looming. Suffocating.

A shiver crawled up her spine.

Nope.

She was not going back in there.

The twins were most likely asleep. No way was she waking Atsumu up—he’d never let her live it down. And she felt too guilty waking up poor Osamu. 

That left only one option.

Suna.

He was the only one who would still be awake. And the only one who wouldn’t judge her too hard.

Well— that was debatable. 

Regardless, she turned toward his room—the floor suddenly feeling way too open, way too exposed.

She scurried up the stairs to his loft.

And then, standing outside his door, she hesitated.

Would he think she was being ridiculous?

Would he even let her in?

She inhaled. Then—knock, knock.

A long pause.

Then, finally, a sleepy, unimpressed voice from inside:

“This better be a life-or-death situation.”

(Y/n) pressed her lips together, second guessing her choices.

“Rin— it’s me.”

Soft footfalls came from the other side, then it opened, revealing a very tired, very unamused Suna.

She should have known he wouldn’t be so sympathetic.

She barely had the chance to shuffle inside before he hit her with that unimpressed, half-lidded stare, his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe, blocking the way in.

"To what do I owe the pleasure..."

His low, sarcastic drawl, paired with the slight twitch of his eyebrow made (y/n) shift uncomfortably.

Despite knowing each other for so long, growing up side by side, she had never grown immune to those eyes of his— always tired, always unreadable, but never oblivious.

He held her gaze in silent question, only to huff out a laugh when (y/n) picked absently at a loose thread on her sleeve, blatantly ignoring him.

“Lemme guess," he droned. "You can’t sleep after watching that movie, can you?"

(Y/n) sighed, accepting her fate. 

Of course he knew.

“Yes,” she admitted plainly. She knew there was no point in lying—Suna could read her like a book. Knowing him, he probably saw this coming before she did.

“Can I sleep in your room?”

A smirk tugged at his lips, lazy and taunting. “What are you, ten?”

A pout.

An eye roll.

Then, after a dramatic sigh, Suna stepped aside. “Fine. Get in.”

(Y/n) wasted no time, practically diving into Suna’s bed before he could change his mind. She refused to spend another second alone in her room, haunted by the thought of someone crawling out of her TV.

She tugged the blankets up to her chin, peeking at Suna as he climbed back into bed beside her, moving like he’d been seconds from sleep before she knocked. His hair was slightly tousled, his expression drowsy as he got comfortable.

Then, as soon as the room settled into silence—

Creeeeak.

(Y/n) flinched so hard she nearly jumped out of bed.

Her breath hitched. “Did you hear that?”

Suna didn’t even look up from his phone. “No.”

(Y/n) swallowed, fingers clutching the blanket. “…It came from your closet.”

A slow blink.

Then, finally, Suna dragged his gaze toward her. “Don’t tell me—“

“Can you go check?”

A stare. 

A beat of silence.

“Please?”

“You seriously want me to go look inside my closet?”

(Y/n) nodded, eyes wide and pleading.

Resigned, Suna let out a long, suffering sigh. “You’re a handful, you know that?”

He threw off the covers and stood up, trudging over to the closet with the enthusiasm of a man being sent to war. Normally, she would’ve bit back, tossed a jab right back at him—but right now, she couldn’t even register his teasing. Her focus was locked entirely on the closet, her pulse ticking anxiously in her throat as she braced for whatever unspeakable horror lurked inside.

She held her breath.

Suna grabbed the handle.

Opened the door.

Stared into the darkness.

Then—his body suddenly jolted back, his face twisting in alarm.

(Y/n) nearly screamed.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, her soul halfway to the afterlife—

And then, completely deadpan, Suna turned back around.

“Just kidding.”

Silence hung in the air. The tense kind.

Then, (y/n) launched a pillow straight at his head.

Suna snickered, catching it effortlessly before crawling back into bed. “You make this too easy.”

(Y/n) groaned, pulling the covers over her head, sinking into the plush mattress. “You suck. That was so mean.”

“You’re welcome.”

She rolled her eyes at his sass, peeking from the duvet. “I should’ve gone to Osamu’s room instead.”

Suna hummed, lazily scrolling through Instagram reels with slow flicks of his thumb. “You say that, but you never do.” His eyes remained on the screen, the faint glow casting shadows across his face, but the amused lilt in his voice told her he was fully aware of her reaction.

(Y/n) frowned slightly, opening her mouth to respond—but then, something about his words lingered.

Because… he was right.

She always ended up here.

Even as kids, she had always ended up with him.

(Y/n) shifted slightly, glancing over her shoulder. “…We used to do this all the time, huh?”

Suna exhaled, his expression softening into something quieter— softer. “Yeah.”

Suna’s quiet confirmation sent a wave of warmth through (y/n)’s chest, a feeling like stepping into sunlight after a long winter. The memories came flooding in—hazy, golden snapshots of childhood stitched together by laughter and secrets whispered in the dark. She could almost smell the summer air, thick with the scent of freshly mowed grass and the faint smokiness of a dying bonfire clinging to her clothes. Could almost feel the heat of a cup of hot chocolate warming her palms, the crinkle of sleeping bags shifting beneath them as they huddled close in the dim glow of a flashlight. They had stayed up for hours, making up stories, daring each other to peek outside into the dark, until exhaustion finally won. The memory was so vivid, so innocent that she couldn’t help but smile, her heart swelling with a bittersweet kind of warmth—the kind that only came with remembering something you could never quite return to.

“Remember that one time we slept in your backyard in a tent?” (Y/n) asked, her voice light with nostalgia.

Suna didn’t answer right away. She watched as he lowered his phone onto the nightstand, screen dimming to black. For a moment, his face was illuminated only by the moonlight pouring through the window, his expression almost pensive. He lay sprawled on his back, one arm resting lazily over his stomach, the other tucked beneath his head. Then, a small huff of laughter escaped him, almost like the memory had tugged it out against his will.

“Yeah,” he murmured, stretching one arm out into the darkness, fingers splaying lazily before curling back in. His hand hovered there for a second, as if feeling the weight of the air, then flopped onto his chest. “You got scared of an owl and made me go inside with you.”

(Y/n) gasped, scandalized. “That’s not how it happened!”

She sat up a little, but Suna only chuckled, slow and amused. His other hand drifted absently over his bedsheets, fingertips tracing the fabric in lazy patterns. His lips twitched, but he didn’t correct himself.

“Go on, then. Tell me what happened,” he drawled, eyes glinting faintly in the dark.

(Y/n) propped herself up on her elbows, clicking her tongue. “First of all, the owl was fine. The real problem was a certain someone telling me stories about a serial killer who targets campers.”

Suna let out a quiet noise of vague acknowledgement, tilting his head back against the pillow. “Hm. I don’t recall.”

(Y/n) scoffed, narrowing her eyes. “You specifically said he only goes for ‘the one who falls asleep last,’ so then I felt so stressed to the point I wasn’t even tired anymore.”

At that, the corner of his lips twitched, like he was trying—and failing—not to laugh. “That does sound like something I’d say.”

(Y/n) huffed, flopping onto her back again. “You’re such a bully, honestly.”

“Did I not wait until you fell asleep first, though?”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, but the gesture lacked any real annoyance. A coy smile crept onto her lips, the hush of an old memory settling over her. “I guess you did.”

“There you go.” He stretched an arm over his head, voice laced with smugness. “And yet I hear no ‘thank you, Rin. You’re the best.’”

“It was literally years ago.”

“And yet here you are, still asking to sleep in my bed.”

(Y/n) turned her head just in time to catch the flicker of satisfaction on his face, the way he barely concealed his smirk in the dim light. She squinted her eyes at him, reaching over to shove his arm, but he barely reacted—just let it happen, too used to her antics to be fazed.

Then the conversation faded, the teasing melting into quiet. The air shifted into something softer, something more intimate. Because really, it didn’t feel like much had changed at all.

They were older now, sure. But they still ended up here, side by side, whispering into the quiet.

(Y/n) exhaled, letting her gaze drift over the ceiling. “Feels like we never really grew up.”

Suna hummed lowly, shifting just a little. His hand twitched like he might reach for something but thought better of it. “Nope.”

Silence settled between them, rich with lingering memories of the past. If (y/n) closed her eyes, she could almost hear it—the sharp, carefree laughter echoing off sun-warmed pavement, the rhythmic splashing of pool water as they tried to dunk each other under, the rustling of grass beneath their backs as they gazed up at the clouds, pointing out shapes only they could see.

Things were different now. They didn’t spend summers chasing each other through sprinklers or racing bikes until the streetlights flickered on. Now, their time together looked a little different—late-night drives with the windows down, sitting in parking lots sharing fast food, trading woes about the weight of adulthood over the rim of coffee cups. Deadlines, expectations, the quiet pressure of figuring out who they were supposed to be. Their conversations had shifted from debating which anime protagonist was the coolest to venting about work, school, and the creeping realization that growing up wasn’t as exciting as they once thought. But beneath it all, they were still the same kids who never ran out of things to talk about, the same unshakable duo who could sit in silence and still feel understood. Some things had changed, but their friendship never had.

The thought made her pleasantly sleepy, wrapping around her like a worn-in sweater. Maybe it was the weight of nostalgia, or just the way comfort made habit so easy to slip back into, but (y/n) shifted closer without much thought, hooking an arm around Suna's torso like it was second nature. Nothing dramatic. Nothing to overthink. Just something she always did—or rather, used to do.

Suna huffed out a quiet laugh, glancing down at her with a rare kind of fondness. “Aren’t you a little old for this?”

(Y/n) only hummed, unbothered, her grin never wavering. “Maybe. But I don’t see you pushing me away.”

He didn’t. Instead, he smiled, shaking his head in quiet amusement as she nestled into the fabric of his oversized t-shirt. His body was warm—solid, safe, the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat a tune she was long accustomed to.

Without a word, Suna reached over, resting an arm over her waist like it was the easiest thing in the world.

(Y/n) let out a slow breath, her body finally unclenching from the tension that stupid horror movie had left behind.

And for the first time that night, she felt safe.

[lostinlovingrevery]

For comfort/fluff: the first time you tell worst!logan you love him, he’s just awestruck by the confession 🥺 thought maybe you just thought he was nice to look at/in bed, not that a sweet creature would fall for this gruff man who’s got so much past baggage

I hope you feel better soon! Sending all the hugs💜

Ooooh my god I just need this man looking at me completely dumbfounded because I told him I loved him <3

and thank you so much!! I'm having a much better day today <3 Sending you a hug back and a smooch on the cheek :)

What Did You Just Say?

Worst! Wolverine X F! Reader

He's not sure if he heard you right

Warnings: Making out, fluff, suggestive, Logan being a cutie, yes this picture is his reaction to you saying those words, food mention

"Logan!"

You erupted into a fit of giggles as he moved to press fluttery kisses to your neck. His hands slipped under your shirt, brushing up and down your sides before landing on your hip, giving you a squeeze and pulling you closer.

"Lo- Logan-" You continued giggling as he pressed open mouth kisses up your neck, over your jaw and chin, before meeting with your lips. You happily kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck as you stood up on your tiptoes and leaned into him. A small hum escaped and you pulled your head back, looking at him with adoration. "I'm trying to finish these cupcakes y'know"

"Cupcakes?" He quirked a brow, tilting his head to look over your shoulder, spotting the dozens of cupcakes resting a cooling rack, about half of them were iced. "Whatchu making cupcakes for?

"You." You smiled proudly, tipping your chin up at him. He looked at you, a bit surprised.

"Me?"

"Mhm."

"Why?"

You giggled, shaking your head, "There has to be a reason?"

A shrug of his shoulders, he reached out to grab a cake, one arm wrapped around you waist, he stops before he grabs one with icing, glancing at you first. "S'okay to have one?"

"Of course." You encourage, watching him as he continued his pursuit for the cupcake. "It's strawberry, because you said you never had strawberry cake before."

He nods, a raise of his brow as he used the hand holding the cupcake to pull the wrapping down and take a bit into it. Icing smeared over his top lip as he munched on the treat. He groaned, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"Damn that..." He then nodded, clearly impressed by the sweet and fruity flavor. "That's really good baby that's..." He took another bite. Now being very theatrical and dramatic about his pleasure over the treat, as if he was savoring every bite.

It made you beam, as you watched him eat the homemade cupcakes you spent all morning making for him. The icing on top on his lip made him look silly, on top of his theatrics. You didn't even think about it, you just, said it.

"I love you."

He stopped, turning to look at you with befuddlement. His mouth hung open in a half smile, his brows partially raised in surprise. You tilted your head, smiling confidently as you reached up to swipe the icing off his lip, sticking it between your own lips. He was frozen in place, staring at you. Finally, something made him break and he blinked.

"What....What did you say?"

"I love you." You repeated without hesitancy. He was still frozen, before a a boyish smile grew on his face.

"Me?"

"Well you're the only one in here you goof." You teased. He let out a small laugh, shaking his head, ducking his head from you in embarrassment. You brought a hand up to his cheek, making him look back at you. "That okay?"

His eyes were filled with affection, and he nodded. "Yeah sweetheart. That's okay...." His brows creased, his smile faltering. "You sure you want to love a man like me though?"

Your expression turned into something more thoughtful, your hand slid into his hair, softly scratching at his scalp in a comforting manner. "You're the only man I want to love from now on. Okay?"

He let out a small exhale, and nodded. "Long as it's okay that I love you too."

You laughed, nodding quickly. "Yeah, that's definitely okay."

He hummed in approval, reaching for the cupcake again, taking another bite out of it. "Yeah, this is good...Sweet." He swallows. Then leans into to you, his lips brushing over yours, "Not as sweet as you though, love."

[ordowrites]

cw: yandere, possessive behavior, afab reader, power imbalance, spanking ment. (arle), hinted kidnapping, hinted imprisonment pet names, unhealthy relationships, mdni.

characters: arlecchino, scaramouche, diluc.

minors and blank blogs dni.

Diluc stares at you in a way you can't describe - those red eyes of him make your skin prickle as you adjust the tille on your dress and play with sleeves that flare out to give you a floral look. (Though you think you look like fire, because it's red and you're beginning to hate the color). You watch as his lips thin into a line as that red gaze looks down to where your chest is more noticeable before glancing back up.

Your heart pounds in your chest as he strides over to you, long legs breaking the distance. You want to run - you didn't want to be here.

When he parts his lips to speak, you flinch, expecting the worst.

"How beautiful you look, my love." You're sure he was going to say something else, with that expression on his face. His hands rest at your hips and you wonder about burning this dress the same way you did your wedding dress (pawning it off for mora would be impossible). "However."

"However...?" you prompt, growing concern. Tonight is already ruined and you were hoping maybe, for a moment, you could have some fun.

Diluc clearns his throat, his hand working up to the low cut but tasteful part of the dress and tugs it. He can get a nice eyeful of your breasts, but not too much. It is conservative but fashionable. "However," he continues, voice raspy now, face reddening a bit. "Must it be so...revealing?"

"You are the one who chose this dress." You point out. Because this rich people party is required for you to attend, and you don't want to go through another however long it will take to choose an acceptable dress. "So I am going to wear it."

Even though you'd like it if it were another color, you think to yourself.

Diluc lets out a breath through his nose - choosing to concede and letting his hands concede. No doubt nobody needs to see the tycoon and his unwilling wife argue today. If you argued, he'd have to claim hysterical and there would be more gossip.

"If you say so, my love." he says, weakly. "But if I feel you are receiving too much attention or -" Too much attention means you're talking to unapproved people, you mentally add on. "you are behaving inappropriately, you will be retired for the night."

Diluc controls many things in your life and you're more than surprised he conceded so easily. Perhaps the argument just was not worth it.

For now.

The dress feels nice with the growing heat of the summer, the cool breeze that comes off the sea helps relieve some of the worst feelings of being hot - though you consider jumping in or hiding in one of the ships, until you consider whose eyes might be on you and the color of your favorite summer dress.

Had been your favorite summer dress.

The familiar soft click of heels that make you tense and shudder approach.

"Good afternoon, you look much like a flower today." Arlecchino is still able to make you feel as if you're in the dead of winter and not in the height of Fontaine's summer. "Were you not supposed to stay with in the city, little flower?"

Affectionate nicknames are not her thing - you are in trouble.

"I wandered," you lie. "It is merely the docks, and the sea is so beautiful today." She is always so composed but the Knave looks at you dead in the eyes and you have to look away. "Am I needed elsewhere?"

"No." comes the answer. "But perhaps return now before you get hurt."

By you or by them? you wonder as you don't fight how her hand goes to your hip and she guides you away from the docks, none of the sailors pay you any attention.

"Since you wish to run off without permission, I suppose we can spend a little time outside today." Alrecchino's tone is a warning and you can already feel the sting of her palm against your skin. "Don't think of this as a reward, but merely a mercy. It is quite nice and cabin fever is no fun."

Her nails dig into the flesh of your hips.

"But do remember you are in trouble." You nod weakly. "I do like this dress on you. Perhaps you should wear it out more. Much better than your usual choices."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Good girl." And you are forced into compliance as she leads - not guides - you home. You can't help but glance over your shoulder, hungry to escape to the sea and leave Fontaine. But there is no place in Teyvat where her claws won't reach.

"What are you wearing?" Scaramouche demands with annoyance as you finally grace him with your presence that evening. It's nothing revealing - oh no, you want to annoy him, not get hurt.

"Clothes."

"You should wear the clothes more befitting of your station. Did the servants not choose something better for you?"

"They did." You answer as you survey the food on the table. Your stomach grumbles. You're hungrier than usual, but he worked you to the bone today. His expression tells you that he's not unhappy but he has to make a coniption anyways. "I was running behind, My Lord. Why make you wait for all the ribbons and ties to be done when this is just as nice and lovely but quick?"

You aren't wrong but there's just one thing -

"And, My Lord, you have impeccable taste in fashion."

You grin when you see a bit of red dust his skin. He clears his throat.

"Whatever. Just - just eat." You've won this round, quite peacefully, too. Normally, he says more words but when you compliment him - rarely - you can sway him as best as you can. The mental tally is updated in your head and you thank him for his benevolence and forgiveness before beginning to eat yourself.

But he doesn't eat - his cheeks still red as he stares at you, watching. Studying.

"I suppose you do look good in my clothes." he says, after awhile. "Don't make this a habit."

"Of course not, Lord Scaramouche."

[gatorbites-imagines]

I think it would be so cool for the petvincible to have a regenerative!reader almost like immortal but better obviously maybe they can cut off an arm for sinister Mark and every thing! (I love Sin Mark and just want him to be loved and happy!)

Alternate Mark Graysons x regenerative male reader 

Headcanons 

Readers inspired by deadpool, cuz i love that guy. I also had a request about regenerative reader who was like deadpool, so i mashed the two together. 

The petvincibles with a reader who regenerates, whos also a mercenary means they are harder to control than normal. 

Normal reader can be like “killing is bad guys, stop doing that please” but if you are also a trigger-happy killer, then it's kinda hard to throw stones at a glass house, right? 

Becomes more the reader being like “hey, we only kill bad people, or the ones we are paid enough to kill. We dont just kill any randos, okay?” 

Reader matches their crazy on most days, but there are things they do that even reader wouldn't do. Like damn bitch, you live like this? To some of them, but he loves his babymamas, so who is he to judge. 

I think the petvincibles are also the first people to not judge reader on his appearance if he has the scars like deadpool. They have all seen way worse, and reader is handsome in their eyes. 

Reader being like deadpool also means hes even more of a pain in the ass of the GDA. Like, they had to deal with him as a merc before and could barely contain him, but now hes got all the vincibles? Hell on earth. 

Reader wouldn't work for the GDA, obviously. “i dont trust the government bub, get someone else to do it” when he was asked to join the guardians once upon a time 

Instead, he gets paid a shit ton of money to help out every now and then, without actually being a member or signing any contract with the GDA. Reader also only accepts the money in physical bills, because he wants to swim in it like scrooge McDuck. 

His regenerative powers is probably how he “tamed” sinister at first. Cuz like, does reader possess Deadpools whole, fourth wall breaking knowledge and power too? 

Then he knows their whole deal and is like “alright dude, have a snack and calm down” after slicing his own arm off and shoving it at sinister. 

I like to think reader tastes pretty damn good, cuz his cells are always regenerating and deteriorating at the same time. Means hes always fresh and yummy to eat. 

Also means that the vincibles take a longer time getting used to being around normal humans again, cuz the reader is so unserious and just heals when they accidentally break something, or rip something off. 

But i do imagine that the Marks start realizing how messed up mentally the reader is, just like them. Like, after a while all the readers self-deletion jokes aren't so funny because they know he means it. 

The Marks would start to try and be more careful and being there for him, maybe help him do something outside of killing, which is pretty damn bold coming from them.  

But it also means they have experience with feeling that there is nothing else you can do but just keep killing. 

In this house we all heal together and become better people. Readers still a merc though, even if his babymamas start joining him on hits to make it easier, quicker and more efficient. Reader obviously demands double pay cuz theres two of them now. 

[ladyycherryy]

Hi just first wanted to say I love ur writing, it's so nice to read as if am really seeing it physically. Anyways I wanted to ask if you could write a starfire type reader where she first meets mark and how their relationship grows . Exploring his friends and parents reaction to her power , tamaranean background and personality. I know damn well cecil will be exhausted finding out there's another alien race with so much power . thank you again for ur work in the invincible fandom cause there's so few amazing writers. 😘😘

Ahhh thank you so much!! 🥹💖 That means the world to me!! I LOVE the idea of a Starfire-type reader I don’t know much of her but I tried my best (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) hope you enjoy!!

Mark first meets you under a.. Chaotic circumstance. An alien attack and he is already in mid-fight when you swoop in. Blasting through enemies, striking, and flipping with this effortless grace. Mark is immediately like Σ(°□°˶) !! So powerful, he can't take his eyes off of you. He's already impressed but also slightly intimidated. “Uh… who are you?” But you can't understand him yet, titling your head blinking in confusion. “You don't understand me, do you?”

Without hesitation you float towards him, placing your hands gently on his cheek and kissing him. Mark freezes. His eyes widened. You pull back, lips turning into a bright smile. “Ah! Now i understand”

“What just happened?”

“In my homeworld, Tamaran, lip contact is a simple custom to learn any language”

“simple..??” Mark is completely flustered while you're acting like kissing him was the most normal thing in the world.

He starts seeing you around more often, you being curious about Earth. Everything from human customs to food. Mark ends up becoming your unofficial guide. You’re fascinated by Earth’s food, the first time Mark takes you out for burgers, you literally hover out of your seat from excitement. ���This is delicious! May I try yours?” and before he could answer you, steal a fry from his tray. Acting like fries are the greatest discovery of your life. (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ Mark becomes curious about Tamaranean culture and one day you got him to try something from your home plant – Zorkaberries. Presenting them to him proudly, a small bowl of deep purple berries in your hand, Mark would eye them suspiciously. He hesitated for a moment before picking one, and popping it in his mouth. The flavor being bittersweet “Whoa, this is really good?”

“Of course! They are Zorkaberries!!” giggling, floating closer and patting his back “do you wish for more?”

Tamaraneans are naturally affectionate so you're constantly touching mark. Holding his hand, brushing your fingers through his hair, and hugging him from behind. It's second nature to you. The more you two hang out and go on dates the more you start falling in love, he loves how blunt you are and have no problem telling Mark exactly how you feel — even if it flusters him.

When you first met his parents, Debbie and Nolan. You were extremely polite, immediately hugging her and complimenting her home. Offering to help with dinner which she is surprised but pleased by. During dinner time you speak of tales of your planet, your people, how you come from a warrior race and noble family. Nolan, on the other hand, is suspicious of you. He recognizes how powerful you are and the fact that you come from an alien race puts him on edge. His Viltrumite instincts are definitely twitching, wary of you but you remain cheerful and unbothered.

Cecil is immediately rubbing his temples because 2 Viltrumites is already bad enough – now there's Tamaranean on earth? Just what he needed, but deep down he knows you could be an invaluable ally , keeping a close eye on you to ensure you're not up to something.

As for mark friends ? William thinks you're super cool, saved him from a villain once and he won't stop yapping about how you carried him bridal style. Amber loves how sweet and down to earth you are, obsessed with helping you pick out earth clothes and doing ‘girl stuff’ together. Eve is immediately fascinated by you, she recognizes your power level and asks you about your planet and your culture. “So you guys can fly and absorb sunlight? That's insane”

“It is quite convenient!”

Bonus:

Afterward, Mark’s brain is still trying to catch up. Mark (to himself): “She’s a literal princess. And she kissed me. To learn my language. Okay.” (꜆꜄ᴗ͈﹏ᴗ͈)꜆꜄꜆

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hi ms raven :D i was playing through vil's dream in book 7 and i was wondering if you could explain a little more about his character? i remember struggling to understand his motivs leading up to his overblot. the current understanding i have now is that vil wants to be the best or the most beautiful but is constantly getting blocked by neige probably because hes not perfect and it makes others lean towards him and want to support him while vil has reached a level where hes seemingly flawless on the outside making it hard for people to get close to him the way they do with neige? does he crave the validation from others and is that why there was an emphasis on him declaring that he himself is the most beautiful like in b6 and b7? i dont think i really understand him enough and its just been on my mind for a while now TT

I think Vil's got one of those backstories and motives that's easy to misunderstand if skimmed. This can lead to misinterpretations where fans assume he's vain and only seeking to take Neige down for shallow attention. It's a lot more complex than that!

The first thing to note about Vil is that he is a child star. His father, Eric Venue, is also a very successful celebrity, but the public does not know about their familial relationship. Vil has worked very hard to achieve his level of stardom all on his own, without relying on nepotism or riding on the coattails of his father. However, that also means that Vil was under an intense amount of pressure and scrutiny since a young age, and that can really mess with one's self-perception.

Since the start of his career, Vil has only ever been casted in villain roles. His post-OB flashback shows Vil asking his dad "Why do I keep getting picked to play the bad guy? Do I really look that mean?"

And though his father reassures him and calls him cute and charming, the vast majority of other people Vil interacts with judge him and assign labels to him. Children Vil's age "hold [him] accountable for work(s) of fiction", equating him playing villainous roles on TV to him actually being a villainous person off-set.

Similar things occur in his professional life. Film crew members praise Neige for his friendliness and wholesome vibe, but also express that Vil is just too perfect and hard for audiences to relate to, so Vil apparently isn't suitable to play the hero.

So on one hand, you have Vil's peers, who assume that he must be an awful person, just like all the characters he plays. Then you have Vil's colleagues, who put him on a pedestal, calling him "special" but also saying he's not relatable. Both viewpoints isolate and dehumanize him. They indirectly tell Vil--a young, impressionable kid--that he's not capable of goodness or of being a normal person. You also have to keep in mind that because Vil always has eyes on him, he has to maintain a cool, mature, and perfectly curated public image. He has had to grow up extremely fast in order to handle himself in the entertainment industry. That's an INTENSE amount of pressure to be under. So how does Vil react to all this pressure? By pushing himself to work even harder to prove everyone wrong. "I would do anything to be beautiful. The most rigorous training. The most tedious hair and skin care regimens. I would shy away from none of it."

At this juncture, I'd like to point out a vital area where Vil's story and that of Snow White weave together. In Snow White, physical beauty is used as shorthand to indicate the goodness of a character. Snow White is pure, beautiful, and innocent because she has a good heart. The Evil Queen is more accurately depicted in her hag form because of how her jealousy twists her into something hideous. When Vil speaks of beauty, it's also in a similar context. He's using "beauty" as a metaphor for "goodness", hence why he fixates on Neige being the "fairest one of all". Neige is the one always playing the hero, and he is also the one the internet considers the most beautiful--so if Vil can become the most beautiful, then surely he, too, can be a hero.

If beauty = goodness, then the opposite is also true to book 5 Vil: ugliness = villainy. And if he is always assigned the villain again and again and again, then its telling Vil that he's “ugly”, that he is a bad person and can never be anything but that.

Not only that, but Vil's worries about permanently being labelled a villain relates back to how his peers and colleagues perceive him. "[...] villains never stay on stage for the whole play. Once their role is finished, all they do is watch from the shadows as the happy ending plays out. [...] All I want is to stay on stage until the end of the show." Vil wants what has always been denied to him: the ability to stand on stage and take a bow with the other actors, to be treated like a normal person that's a part of the group, to have that humanity handed back to him. Why should he be the only one languishing backstage while Neige and other heroes get to soak up that spotlight? He wants to be a part of it, too. He wants to be included.

Let's get back into book 5, present day, now. Vil spends much of this book driving his teammates VERY hard to achieve his vision. To this end, he is imposing harsh restrictions on them, such as new diets, new skincare, new practice routines, and more. This of course garners many protests, but Vil insists on having his way and admonishes those who complain. In these moments, Vil is very much acting like a "villain"--but to him, it's all worth it, because he wants to win against Neige fair and square, earning that victory through his own efforts. "[...] I have no interest in spells that fade when the clock chimes midnight. What I seek is genuine, authentic aesthetic perfection."

Recall that I said earlier that beauty is used as a shorthand for goodness. Because Vil is stating that he wants to win fairly, he is attempting to demonstrate his own beauty--his own goodness--in this bid to triumph over his rival.

But what ends up happening? Vil sees Neige's practice performance and realizes right away that NRC is destined to lose. He tries to take matters into his own hands by cursing a bottle of apple juice and offering it to Neige. While book 5 is vague about what the consequences of drinking that cursed juice would have been, book 7 implies the worst--that Vil had intended to kill Neige with it. Vil went against his own principles (which he stated earlier in book 5) and used a dirty tactic to get Neige out of his way. He can only win if he harms others in the process. I would argue that what triggers Vil to snap and OB isn't his failure to poison Neige (although that's certainly a part of it), but rather Vil realizing he just... proved what everyone has always said about him right. That he's rotten to the core (ie "ugly") and will never be anything else but a villain.

Vil fixates on the eyes of his teammates, perceiving them to be staring at him and judging the moral ugliness of his actions. Like in his childhood, he derives much of his image from public feedback--from the eyes on him. "Please. Don't look at me... Don't look at me with those eyes! Why? I wanted to be the fairest one of all, so why am I so... so... ugly? Ugly?! UGLY?!"

Kalim and Rook try to reassure Vil and remind him that Neige didn't get hurt, so it's okay. But Vil only gets more upset and continues to berate himself. "What does it matter who forgives me?! I can't... I can't forgive myself!" This makes sense for Vil, who is a character that has consistently held the people around him, as well as himself, to high standards. He has betrayed himself, and he is ashamed of how ugly his envy has made him.

After Vil's OB, Rook pretty succinctly states why Vil fails to be "beautiful": because he doesn't believe in himself. Throughout his entire life, Vil has been relying on the words of others to affirm his identity as someone "beautiful", as a "good" person. You can even argue that Vil being so strict with himself is to earn the approval of others, to be seen as the "most beautiful". But Vil never truly believed he was "beautiful" ("good"), and that lack of confidence is ironically what is keeping him from realizing his full potential. "Nobody should believe in your beauty more than you yourself [...] No amount of validation from the rest of the world will ever leave you fulfilled. Even if you wind up old, emaciated, grimy, and stooped over... If you were to truly believe that you are the fairest of all despite that, even the Magic Mirror of legend wouldn't contest your claim. The strength and pride to believe in yourself is what marks the true fairest one of all. Roi du Poison. Fair Vil. I implore you to believe in yourself more than anyone else. Beauty is always with you. At this exact moment, you are the fairest one of all."

In book 6, we get to see how far Vil's character has progressed. When Idia taunts Pomefiore, calling them "wannabe heroes", Vil responds with, "You know, I've always wanted to be cast as a hero, just once. But there are no heroes or villains here. This time I'll be the one who stays on stage till the very end!" He now disregards the notion of labels and is only committed to being the one that puts an end to Idia's machinations.

This point is even further driven home when we see old!Vil, the result of him diving into Tartarus to pull Idia out. Though his dorm members are shocked to see their glamourous leader in this state, Vil laughs it off and announces, without hesitation: "Even though I'm grimy, withered, and emaciated... At this exact moment, I am the fairest one of all." This parallels the words Rook imparted onto him at the end of book 5. ("Even if you wind up old, emaciated, grimy, and stooped over... [...] At this exact moment, you are the fairest one of all.")

It's a complete reversal of Vil OBing. Back in book 5, Vil went mad because he realized his jealous actions made him hideous (even if he still physically looks young and conventionally attractive). But now, in book 6, Vil is content in knowing that his heroic actions make him absolutely beautiful (even if he stands there, old and grey). It doesn't matter what he looks like on the outside, or what other people think of him--because Vil has learned to love himself and to stay true to his principles.

He is deserving of standing on that stage with everyone else. He is human, like everyone else. He’s not THE Vil Schoenheit anymore, he’s… just Vil. This also shows in vulnerable moments late game, like him squealing from excitement at the end of book 6 or screaming in fear in book 7. He still has the image of a celebrity to maintain, but he’s now allowing himself to be less of that “perfect” person, at least around his peers. I believe this is what Vil’s dream in book 7 reinforces. I won't get into the details of that dream, since I assume you've played it + it would just repeat what I've already gone over in this post. That’s honestly what most (if not all) of the book 7 dreams do, try to summarize their personal issues, how the dream attempts to placate them with convenient falsehoods, and then have the dreamers confront those falsehoods with what they’ve learned through their own arcs.

[yandere-wishes]

Okay I have another idea for the Batwoman!fam au

Imagine if Damian’s darling wasn’t good at training at the League of Assassins, sure she is the child of two assassins who were hand picked to make her, but she is also being trained to me a wife and mother, and those two roles don’t always line up. She just can’t make herself kill, no matter how hard she tries. She is a perfect fit for being a vigilante because she can fight and extremely well at that, she just can’t kill.

Or another idea, because Cass was made to be the perfect weapon and, there is the idea of her parents being skilled assassins, so like what if Cass and Damian’s darling were sisters, half sisters maybe or full blooded, but just they never knew it because they were raised away from each other and they had no idea because there was no reason to know because they were born for very different purposes.

-lots of love❤️🪽

‧₊˚ ⏾. ⋅ Darling, I love how your brain works. It's true Damian's darling would be a perfect vigilante. Strong but kind. I think maybe that's what draws her to Kate in the first place seeing someone so strong, so skilled yet still riddled with compassion. For the first time in forever she doesn't feel weak or misplaced, she's finally found another like her…

‧₊˚ ⏾. ⋅ As for her and Cass being sisters, that would be a cool dynamic!! Lord knows I have the BIGGEST crush on David Cain (I want to be sandwiched between him and Deathstroke so BADLY) so having him be the reader's bio dad would certainly be interesting. I mean reader wouldn't know it, she never needed to know it. Her whole world was supposed to be Damian, he was the only relevant thing in her life Talia made sure of that. I guess that could add to the reasons Kate was so eager to take her away. She wanted the poor girl to at least experience having a semi-normal family. I seriously wish there was more media for David Cane, it would make it easier to incorporate him into the story lol.

‧₊˚ ⏾. ⋅ Anyway have my rambles on "No Killing" (Corvid) reader and the tortures she gets put through thanks to Damian~❤️❤️

‧₊˚ ⏾. ⋅ Song: Crimson and Cloverby Joan Jett

There's a contradiction festering within you. You try to gulp it down, to drown its bitter taste with rich irons and salts. But the dreaded thing won't die, it screams and wails into the night. The iron rots between your teeth, pricking needles into your tongue.

Satisfy or defy. You don't know which is which any longer.

Damian holds your hand as you lurk through the foreign palace, his fingers are curled tightly against yours squeezing at random intervals as he twirls his sword. "I've beheaded their king, rotten old man didn't even put up a fight." you offer him a sweet smile, as silent congratulation. Not that he needs it, no, Damian Al'Ghul doesn't need to be reminded of his worth, his merit. Instead, you do, you need to follow the rules laid out, down to the miserable T. If you don't, well, you wouldn't know what else to do.

There's a soldier writhing on the cobblestone floor, he spits when he sees the two of you when the emerald green of the uniform registers for an omen of death. Damian scowls "You dare disrespect the demon's heir?" he's about to slice the man's neck when he stops. The sunrise reflects terribly off the silver of his sword.

"I apologize," he says turning stiffly towards you, there's specks of pink blooming across his cheeks. As he shifts from one foot to the other. "You may have this kill, my lady."

The way he calls you his, makes your blood run cold. It's like being reminded to breathe, being reminded of rigid realities.

"I-I don't really feel-" he cuts you off by dragging you closer. Pushing you down until you're kneeling above the man. Damian slips his hunting knife into your palm and laces his fingers with yours once more. The oriented blade comes down bursting the jugular vein wide open. The soldier's blood spills onto your face painting you in that unholy crimson shade.

You feel the bile rising, the acid burning as you try to hold it in. Damian gingerly laps at the blood on your cheek. His warm tongue feels like the embers of hell melting through your flesh. He pulls you onto his lap, giggling sardonically as he kisses the gore clean, teeth pecking at your neck and collarbones. Wringing the skin in definite signs of himself. You stay frozen, suffocating, you don't bother guiding his hands or whispering love stories into his ears. You don't do as you were taught. Instead, you stand still. Waiting for the world to pass.

The sun oozes from the horizon. It looks like a blood fountain. You feel sick again.

That night you claw at your throat until the blood sweeps out. The tears don't stop, they flow down your pretty face until your eyes are as red as the soldier's crimson blood across the blade. Your nails pick at the lovebites, at Damian's essence across your skin. You wish you could peel them off like stickers. You wish you could be clean again.

You pray Damian dosen't notice your eyes when he sneaks into your room. But he never does, instead he nuzzles into your neck lulled off to peaceful sleep. Never once haunted by the lives he's taken.

You try to close your eyes. To sleep away the dread. But his body reeks of the insufferable substance, crismon and iron. Your most hated endeavor. You push your face into the pillows, trying to ward off the scent.

By morning the smell will cover you too. That perfect murderous perfume. Shouldn't you love it though? Shouldn't it remind you of your husband-to-be?

Master Talia says your father was one of the greatest assassins the league has ever fostered. His skills rival Batman and Deathstroke. You don't like how the information coils across your brain, slithering into the neurons filling you with anguish. How your veins pulse with the blood of a killer.

'You did this to me' you want to scream when your master's back is turned. 'You broke me!' Your master may be the only parent you've ever known, but you still can't stifle the blame. She had you birthed to be a contradiction. A mother and a killer. She had her finest birth an anomaly just so she could ensure her son a lover. You hate her for it…

And yet whenever she hugs Damian you are reminded that she loves you too. That she raised you to be her place holder once her time has come. She is in everyway your mother and in every way your tormentor.

You can never be her. You can never stomach the blood.

The problem with Gotham, your master says, is that it always finds a way to send its filth to the league.

You watch tentatively as she lands a kick across the intruder's back. Watch as she stabs her blade between the woman's ribs and claws at her eyes with her nails.

Damian stands beside you blade drawn. He's ready to engage upon command. Ready to protect. But Talia never calls her son, there is a personal vendentate in the way she mauls the woman.

The woman never once draws her blade. The batwoman with the blood-red hair doesn't kill. Her stance, her punches, her kicks. They hold no mortality. They are used in defense, offense, to hurt and protect…

But they are not made to kill. She is not made to kill.

She is just like you.

There is a bat who flies into your window on nights when the Demon's hire is not lurking inside your chambers. She tells you tales of a land shrouded in darkness, where a single king quarrels vigorously against the evil permeating his kingdom. She speaks of him with such respect, with a stiff adoration like resisting patronymic psalms. She tells you how brave you are for sparing blood. She says you are like her, like him, in every way. Singing lullabies of a world where blood isn't shed. Where justice reigns supreme.

She makes your chest swell with hope.

"I had a nightmare" you confess. The lady in red…and black -Kate as she insists you call her- only kneels down, her bloody smile pleasant, calming.

"What kind of nightmare?" she asks with a tone you can't quite place. "I was drowning" There was a pause, four heartbeats, yours and hers before you continued. "The water was red, I could feel them pulling me down." She looks at you with slight terror ringing across her eyes.

She cradles your cheek in her hand before pulling you close. It's not the bone-crushing hugs Damian gives you. The possessive vice of a dragon who knows you belong to him. It's not the rare ceremonial pat on the back that Master Talia offers from time to time. No, it feels warm and worried. Tight and soft and all so sweet. There is no warning no definitive. It is simply meant to comfort.

It feels like love. At least you hope it does.

Damian pulls you into an empty room after your training. His lips are on yours biting the chapped skin, licking your teeth, and pushing his tongue inside. "I missed you" he mumbles sternly as he cradles your body closer.

He's been gone all week. Accompanying his Grandfather on a mission in the east. You don't ask for details, because you know that he will tell you. He will spare no macabre piece as he tells you how he snuffed the life of those Master Ra's has deemed sinners.

You can still smell the blood on him as he rakes his fingers through your hair. Kissing down your shoulder and arm. Sucking and biting the pulse point on your wrist. "I love you" he admits through a sigh. Like a gulp of air after being submerged for far too long.

"I love you too…" you lie.

"You could come back with me" she offers one night sheepishly biting her lip and looking out at the crescent moon. "Back to Gotham I mean, you'd be safe there, happier too I think." You pause for a moment, staring at her, she doesn't smell of bloodshed or duty. Only lavender and responsibility.

Kate Kane, you roll her name around in your mouth, letting the letters morph and crack until they almost spell "Mother".

You nod.

In Gotham, you thought you were free. Free from that atrocious scent of blood. Free from the man you didn't love. But now the demon's heir has come to Gotham.

Damian's hands wrap around your neck, it reminds you of the times you used to hold hands. His voice is distorted all anger and accusations.

He no longer omits that gruesome aroma. But you know better, you know who's holding his leash. You know he'll snap the moment his father looks away.

He's violence born, and violence raised. That will never change.

You're in an alleyway having been confronting a thief mere moments ago. Routine patrol, until he had showed up. Emerged from the shadows just like in your nightmares. You'd thought he'd tackle the thief, play Prince Charming, and try to "protect" you. But instead, he'd targeted you. Thrown you to the ground and screamed as he laid punches across your body.

"Why did you leave me?"

It sounds so innocent, so juvenile A little boy with a broken heart. But your bones start to bruise under his fists. And you know this is no little boy, no, this is a monster.

Damian gets up quietly, he stalks closer and closer to the terrified man. You hear the haunting sound of a sword being unsheathe, close your eyes and wait for the misreable sound of blade against flesh. But it never comes, instead there's a painful tug on your hair, pulling you up.

Damian wraps your hand around his sword, fingers entwined his breath hot on your neck. "Please don't" You beg between sobs. "I have to" he mutters as he brings your hands down slicing the man from his shoulder to his hip. The body falls and so do you.

Damina kneels next to you, wrapping his arm around your body and tucking your head beneath his chin. There are blood drops on your face, the odor invading your senses, suffocating you until your breath hitches far too tightly.

"Kill me, please just kill me and end this." you plead looking up into his sparkling emerald eyes.

"Darling I can't. I wouldn't. You were born to be mine, it's your legacy, your destiny. You are mine, no matter how far you run, no matter who you masquerade as. You are mine and you always will be."

You bury your face into his chest, crying harder and harder, silently you plead for your mother to find you to save you. You don't want to belong to the demon again…

I have an interesting twist I'd like to implement into the story for who her mother could be…. But we'll talk about that some other time.

[mya-valentine]

Hey! Could I request headcanons for Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya and Kaminari with a reader that is secretly good at singing but is kinda quiet about it. They usually just hum along to songs, the only time they sing is when their alone or if their with their friends so they can all harmonize together (they go into full on performance mode when that happens). Their secret does eventually gets out however. Thank you in advance!

Headcanon: S/O is Secretly Good at Singing

Katsuki Bakugou

At first, Bakugou doesn’t notice because you're always so quiet about it. But he starts catching you humming under your breath during training or while doing homework, and it piques his interest.

One day, he accidentally overhears you singing in an empty classroom when you think no one’s around. He’s completely stunned but pretends he wasn’t listening to avoid embarrassing you.

When your secret eventually gets out, Bakugou acts all nonchalant like, “Tch, I already knew.” But deep down, he’s proud and lowkey loves bragging about how talented you are.

If anyone tries to make fun of you or tease you about it, he’s ready to blow them up. No one disrespects his singer.

He’s secretly obsessed with hearing you sing, so he’ll play your favorite songs around you just to trick you into humming or singing along.

Eijiro Kirishima

Kirishima’s super supportive and encouraging when he finds out. “Bro! That’s so manly! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

He’s the type to hype you up and literally beg you to sing more often. “C’mon, do it for me! Please? Just one song!”

When you perform with your friends, he’s front row, recording everything and screaming louder than anyone.

If you’re shy or embarrassed, he’s got your back. He’ll remind you how amazing you are and how much everyone loves your voice.

He loves the idea of doing little duets with you, even though his singing is... passionate but not exactly in tune. But hey, he tries.

Izuku Midoriya

Midoriya is absolutely in awe when he discovers your talent. He’s the type to get super emotional and ramble about how incredible you are.

“You’ve been hiding this this whole time?! That’s amazing! You’re amazing!”

He’s genuinely curious about your musical journey and asks about your favorite artists, genres, and what inspired you to sing.

When your secret gets out, he’s both nervous and excited for you. He’ll always be there to support you and cheer you on, whether you’re performing or just vibing with friends.

He starts suggesting songs for you to try and would probably make playlists that match your vibe.

Denki Kaminari

Kaminari’s reaction is the most chaotic. He literally short-circuits when he hears you sing for the first time. “HOLY CRAP, DUDE. WHY HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING THIS FROM US?!”

He immediately tries to get you to join his band or start a music channel with him. He’s all about those collabs.

When your secret gets out, he makes sure everyone knows how cool and talented you are. He’s like your personal hype man.

Kaminari loves harmonizing with you and turning casual jam sessions into full-blown concerts.

He 100% tries to convince you to sing karaoke with him at every party.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[writingwithgeoffrey]

It was another day like any other. Work at a fox sanctuary wasn’t glamorous, with its moments of both unbounded joy and stifling disgust, though it all averaged out to be pretty fun, regardless.

Sure, it may not have been caring for dragons, but you had shied away from that profession ever since you were a child. Growing dragon tails or horns was cool, but you couldn’t ever imagine having to retailor all of your outfits because of it.

It also wasn’t caring for selkies, or unicorns, or even the odd chupacabra, if those could be considered magical. You’d always laughed at the fact that a goat-sucker did all of its goat sucking through magic, imagining it using telekinesis to snatch goats away in the middle of the night.

No, the fox farm was the place for you. They were fluffy and cute, and with a bit of incentive could even be trained a teeny bit. It was nice and quiet, except for when the foxes weren’t nice and quiet, but those days were few and far in between. It was as if the foxes at the sanctuary knew you were trying to nurse them back to health.

“Morning, Jen,” you said as you entered the front office.

“Hey, good to see ya.” She straightened up in her seat behind the desk. “Little Riley’s been waiting for you.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you picked up your badge. “Please. Riley waits for her food. I just so happen to be the one bringing the food.”

You would never admit to your coworkers that you looked forward to working with Riley, too. One of the more well-mannered foxes, she had been found injured on the side of the road after defending her kits from a predator. With no kits in sight, she’d been taken in with the goal of getting her well enough to rejoin the wild population. You had a feeling that would never happen. After all, what wild animal would give up the guarantee of food and shelter?

“Well, see you for lunch, yeah?”

You waved farewell to your coworker as you headed into the sanctuary itself. It wasn’t much, a fenced in area that did well to keep the foxes in and the hawks out. There was always a handler on at all times, but during the day, there were enough to parse out the foxes evenly.

You took a quick glance at your coworkers as you headed for the feed bins. Some of them had transferred from other professions, and you could see it in their bodies. One had literal bronze wings from when they’d cared for those pesky Stymphalian birds from Greek. Another had two wolf heads sprouting out from beside her own, the result of running a hellhound nursery for a few years. Each one always made you wonder why they’d left their old jobs behind.

You got what you needed from the feed bins, and almost immediately, Riley was right beside you. She sat in front of you, staring up with her bright amber eyes. In the light of the sunrise, her eyes almost seemed to flash golden. Her fur was a lovely russet orange, perhaps the truest, most vibrant fur you’d ever seen on a red fox.

As she waited for you to offer a treat for her sitting, her tail wagged like she wasn’t a wild animal.

“Yeah, don’t worry, Riley. I got you.” You knelt to her level and scratched beneath her chin. “Here.”

You pulled a treat from her pocket, then dropped her breakfast in one of the bowls beside the bin. It was a nice, healthy mix of eggs, berries, and a couple of small crawfish.

“Enjoy.”

You didn’t leave Riley’s side as she ate, however. After losing her kits, Riley had been scared to eat by herself. So, you knelt there beside her, running your hand down her back and through her fur. Sometimes you scratched between her ears, other times you let her curl her tail around her hand. She was adorable, and it hurt to think that she’d lost her children, especially when she seemed so carefree now.

“Don’t worry, Riley. You’re safe here.”

When she finished eating, you stood up. One of your coworkers came over before you could take Riley elsewhere, though.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked. They had a somewhat concerned, somewhat bewildered expression on their face. “You okay?”

“Um …” They pointed behind you.

You turned, caught a glimpse of something vibrant auburn swishing behind you, and panicked, thinking it was another fox coming for Riley. You spun, but the auburn remained just at the edges of your vision.

When you finally managed to reach out and take hold, you felt your own grip. “What the—”

You tugged and felt the tug on your own skin. You pulled it more gently, bringing the fluffy tail into view. That was when you realized it was attached to you. “What the hell?”

You looked first at your coworker, then at Riley. Riley sat there, squinting with her tongue stuck out, tail wagging in the sunrise. It was the shadow, however, that revealed eight more shadows than should’ve been there.

Recognition dawned in your eyes, and with a breath that was equal parts defeated and proud, you muttered, “God damn it, Riley.”

Some magical creatures are so powerful that working for them or having a close relationship causes one to gain traits of that creature over time. You were not aware of this until one day you notice strange changes to your body.

[arciam]

Underrated JayVik moments/lines (15/∞)

"You had a vision?"

This entry is very loosely inspired by a post I saw about how Jayce really ought to be more bewildered by the fact that Viktor just told him he had a vision while tripping balls on his own lung-blood inside the HexGates. /paraphrased

I know on this blog we like to lovingly rip into Jayce for being a serial fumbler at supporting the casual love of his life (or no, I don't really like to do that - I love both my boys and just wish they didn't have to stay miserable until two minutes before annihilation is all), but this made me think of how there is one way in which Jayce is actually much "better" at supporting Viktor than the other way around.

See, Viktor - by virtue of being a person of uncompromising principles - is prone to the pitfall of... not being very generous with regards to other people's perceived failings or weaknesses. Or his own, for that matter.

Jayce isn't exempt from this - furthest thing from it, in fact.

Yes, Viktor does always quickly forgive (and doesn't forget) Jayce's numerous blunders. But that doesn't negate the fact that anytime Jayce ventures outside Viktor's expectations of who he is - or who he could be, ought to be -, the dissatisfaction is immediate, sharp and unfaltering. While Viktor's love for Jayce is unconditional, his approval most certainly isn't.

That's not a bad thing in itself; Viktor is (generally speaking) entitled to his disapproval, and as I said, it is merely the flipside of his strong convictions.

However, compare this to Jayce, who doesn't seem to have any set expectations whatsoever as to who Viktor should be. Or the decisions he should make. Jayce will happily go along with any twist and turn in Viktor's thought processes and actions, not only because they are fascinating to him, but because he trusts and admires Viktor implicitly.

(To my knowledge, the only time Jayce expresses discontentment with an action taken by pre-Herald Viktor is during their argument on the bridge, which is driven by immense worry and fear on Jayce's part, and he also backpedals immediately.)

Here are some examples of Jayce not beating the golden retriever allegations embracing Viktor unconditionally:

You're suggesting we should amplify the power of the thing that blew up half a building yesterday? Let's roll!

You're snapping at me for taking my new job too seriously? Yeah, guess I deserve that...

You had a vision? (While tripping balls on your lung-blood?) Tell me more!

The thing that came to you in said vision is making plants scream now? You're so cool, Vik.

You carved runes in your skin and started experimenting on yourself in ways your mentor said would make everyone hate you? "I did my best using the notes from your leg, recorded everything!"

Those experiments pulverised our only assistant? ...We can fix that.

You're leaving because affection isn't holding us together anymore..? Well, I'll stay and sleep here in case you come back, I guess...

You've lost your mind and got me in the exact position where I already saw my future corpse? Eh - I'll close my eyes and trust that you'll come to your senses in time.

The fact that - for however subject to change most of everything else about Jayce was - the love and acceptance Singed told Viktor he would have to forfeit in order to live never once wavered for even a second... it just kind of gets to me, okay?

Part 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15

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[dazed--xx]

Too Far....

Member: Changbin x Reader

Genre: Angst

T/W: Jokes at a friends expense, insecurity, groveling

A/N: I've officially moved and have wifi I'm also in the process of getting furniture and stuff but I'm excited for what the future hold hope you guys enjoy this one wanted to make one basically full of groveling. Also don't mind these little things for a while like the word count I plan to go through and fix everything

When do jokes go too far?

Y/N wondered, as she sat in this diner across from her boyfriend of 4 years best friends who continue to make subtle jestful jabs at her expense. Could it be when the punch line is hurtful? She bit her cheek as she stared at the table as the pair continue to laugh together at an embarrassing moment Y/N when she first met the pair. While Sol-i's beauty was enough to make any woman insecure with her closeness to their boyfriend, Y/N had apologized over and over about her rude remarks when she first met her. Daehyun hadn't been there, yet he speaks about it like he was. Y/N couldn't understand the dynamic of this friend group.

While she knew her boyfriend was the glue that held this group together, she couldn't understand the appeal. They constantly belittled each other and stabbed each other in the back. Especially the pair that sat in front of her at this moment. "I'm just saying though, Y/N you were just so adorable with that little jealous pout on your face" Sol-i states condescendingly. Her hand slowly brushes her brunette locks off her shoulder as she takes a sip of the soda sat infront of her. Daehyun chuckles slightly "I bet it was, especially with her tiny self like what was she going to do?"

Y/N couldn't stand them at this point, no matter when she saw them; No matter what was going on in her life these two just never let things go. "Honestly Y/N, you're kind of lucky you're cute and smart" Sol-i says arrogantly. "Otherwise Changbin would have probably left your adorable ass in the dust by now" she continued with a proud honest smirk on her lips as Daehyun decides to input his own opinion as well, "True, with her temperament it's not like she'd be able to find someone as good as Binnie"

Y/N's eyebrows furrow "Coming from the pair that take turns fucking each other's boyfriends?" Her voice laced with venom "I'm sorry, Sol-i when did you study relationship counseling? Also what about your pathetic crappy relationships that always ends with the guy cheating on you? Do you really believe you have the qualifications to make assessments about me and my relationship?" She growls before turning to Daehyun "And you...a queen who's in fucking denial about the fact that they live vicariously through their best friend and can't stop seducing her boyfriends because that's how badly you wish you were Sol-i? You have no right to make a judgement about me when you both have never once even taken the time to actually get to know me." Y/N's voice was laced with venom as she felt her body growing hot.

The pair sat quiet, bewildered, as Y/N began to grab her things. "What the fuck did you just say to them?" Y/N hears from behind her. Rolling her eyes, as she turns to look at her boyfriend. He stood their with a fire in his eyes as he clenched his fists at his side. His eyebrows furrowed as he glared at her. Scoffing she crossed her arms over her chest and shrugs "You heard me..." Changbin looks even more angry at her nonchalance.

"Did you think this shit was okay?" He questioned trying to maintain his calm.

Y/N scoffs "Of course you're going to defend them"

"Yeah! I'm going to defend them, not everyone is some selfish bitch that can just shit on people the way you do, Y/N. Not everyone would be cool with you talking to their friends like their beneath you"

She stares at him stunned as she jumps up from her seat "I've been telling you for years the horrible shit they've said to and about me!" She exclaims in frustration before stopping herself, feeling no point in explaining herself as Sol-i tries to interject in their conversation. Her voice hesitant and small "B-Bin, w-we may have crossed a li--I don't care shut up and stay out of this" Changbin cuts her off before turning back to his girlfriend who was in the process of grabbing her things. "Yup. Leave....run away like you always fucking do when shit gets hard for you, Y/N."

"I'm not fucking dealing with this shit right now changbin. You want to be an asshole then fine but I'm done" She growls at him as she shoves her purse onto her shoulder and pushes past Changbin and out of the diner door. Changbin stood there confused but resigning to letting his girlfriend calm down a bit then talking to her. Sol-i stared at her friend feeling guilty as she looked at Daehyun who sat there bewildered by the whole situation and how a small simple joke went too far.

Changbin went too far this time...

He felt it in his stomach, he had been torturing himself for the past 6 weeks. That night after the huge argument with Y/N, he had to hop on a plane and go on a 6 week tour. During that time he hadn't heard a peep from his girlfriend. At first he was angry, how could she not even come to say goodbye the next morning? But as the time passed and her responses continue to not come in, he felt worried. Worried about her never responding again. Worried he had ruined things forever with his hot headedness. Worried she was serious about being done...

He couldn't go on not knowing. If things were over he needed to hear it from her. Just the thought alone sent a sharp pain through his chest. He felt so guilty, he'd understand if she did choose to end things but he prayed every night she didn't. He didn't want to--No, he couldn't lose her. So as soon as his feet touched the ground in Korea, he rushed to her apartment. He needed to see her, to hear her voice. He'd never been this desperate for another person's presence as he was at this very moment.

As her building pulled into his view his heart raced with excitement. He was going to see her again. He was going to fix things and let this 6-week bump in the road be just that in the story of the rest of their lives. As he stood infront of her door he felt nervous. What would she say? What would he say? Is she doing okay? His mind raced a mile a minute. He brings his hand up to knock when the door opens and a dressed-up Y/N exits her apartment.

Changbin's heart soars as she stood in front of him surprise etched on her features. "Baby...hey" He breathes out as he stares at her lovestruck. "What are you doing here, Changbin?" Y/N questioned taking a small step back away from him and looking away. Her hands shift behind her back as she bit her plush bottom lip. "What do you mean? I just got back. I thought we could hang out...like we always do" he states hopeful.

Y/N stares at him confused "What? Why would I want to do that?"

Changbin feels his heart crack at her harshness "I'm your boyfriend..a-and I just got back from tour. Didn't you miss me, babe?" He asks sadly as he takes a small step toward her. His hand caresses her forearm and slowly runs down to capture her hand in his. Y/N stares at where they meet.

"You should go home, Changbin."

Changbin stares at her in disbelief "Y/N...Are you breaking up with me?"

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion "We broke up that day before you left for tour" Changbin shakes his head in denial "No. No we didn't...y-you were just mad a-and said stuff you didn't mean like I did" Y/N crosses her arms over her chest as she scoffs "No. I meant it when I said I was done. Your friends were blatantly being rude to me whether they were joking or not I don't care and like I told Sol-i when she reached out to me 'I don't care what you have to say you should have listened to what I had to say instead of being such a dick.' Because you would have known that your friends crossed a line." Y/N states ferociously as she looks away from Changbin. Her arms crossed over her chest as her blood boiled. They stood in silence for what felt like an eternity before a small sniffle pulls Y/Ns attention toward Changbin.

Her heart ached as her stomach sank at the look on Changbin's face. All the color was drained and tears filled his eyes. His shoulders were slumped as his breathing grew rapid. His hands reach out toward her. "B-Baby...p-please, I know I was wrong. Please don't--don't leave me. Don't do this. I'll do anything please give me a chance" he pleads desperately. She stood frozen in shock at his reaction to her words. His hands find hers as he drops to his knees resting his forehead against the back of her hands as his body trembled. "Please! I can change...I was wrong I should have listened to what happened instead of freaking out. I'm sorry please I'm so sorry. We've been together for 4 years please don't throw it away like this" He urges as he continues to sob harshly.

"Changbin...stop okay?

He shakes his head rapidly "N-No" He sobs, his cries growing more and more desperate "Why are you being like this? Why can't we talk about this? Please.." He urges. Y/N shakes her head softly "We should move on...you should be with someone you love. With the way I'm always thrown under the bus with you...I can't trust that I'm that person"

Changbin felt like his soul was ripped from his body at her words. "You are! Baby I love you...I want to be with you. I'm sorry if you feel like I've thrown you under the bus. I should have listened. I'll be better, I can fix this I promise you I can fix this please let me" his voice was laced with guilt and desperation as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Changbin stop...you can't do this here" Y/N states looking around her parking lot hoping no one saw the idol knelt at her feet.

"You think I care about that? Do you think I care if people see us together? Y/N I've never hid you...I love you and I will do anything to make this right please give me a chance...we've been together for 4 years that has to count for something right? We can't just end like this. I'm so fucking sorry" his face was glistening with his tears as he stared up at her like a kicked puppy. "What will I do without you? I'm sorry I was an ass I won't do it again" Y/N felt her heartache at his pain. While his words hurt 6 weeks ago, she could see the pain she was causing Changbin was almost worse.

She felt guilty for doing this to him, she knew she would forgive him eventually so why did she feel the need to dig the knife in deeper to his heart? Maybe it was her way of getting back at him for all his backhanded compliments and insulting jokes throughout the years. But now? She felt sick to her stomach at her actions, how could they move past this? Why did she bring it this far?

As she stared at the tears streaming down his cheeks her resolve began to crack. "D-don't be like this..." she muttered and Changbin looked at her even more hurt. "Y/N, please don't end things like this...I-I'll do anything I didn't mean to hurt you or upset you please just give me a chance..." He sobs as he clung to her hips, his face soaking her shirt as his body trembled. "I'm stupid and terrible at communicating and I don't think I just act most of the time and I'm so fucking sorry please don't leave me...I can be better. I'll never do this again please give me a chance..." he plead as she felt tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I-I'll think about it...."

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