#and then when you can see them it turns out its the lyrics but for some reason with a past tense 3rd person chorus of backing vocals too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

muwapsturniolo · 2 days

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✯𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐀𝐬 𝐌𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬✯

IN WHICH... i explain my fav songs of the month and how they match with the triplets.

WARNINGS: sex is briefly talked about but its nothing really.

𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐆𝐎 ☆ 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐈 𝐅𝐓 𝐉𝐓

I want to start by saying why this is one of my fav songs at the moment. I love Doechii THE BITCH ALWAYS SERVES CUNTTTTTTTT!!!!! this song just does sum to me, it makes me want to go to the ballroom and vouge and do five death drops in a row! the beat, the lyrics, THE MUSIC VIDEO! it reminds me sm of Azelia Banks (that hoe so problematic it's not even funny anymore) and i love it!

now on to why i think this song is perfect for nick

an alter ego is basically a persons second face/persona that we don't see until it's time for it to come out. and one thing i think a lot of people in this fandom forgets is that WE DON'T KNOW THEM! we as viewers have this image of them in our head based off of what they let us see through a screen, and nick doesn't let us forget that. he has stated many times that most of our opinions are wrong (them not being friends with people, la vs Boston debate etc.) and i think that's important.

I'm not saying nick has an alter ego or is two faced,but he is a leo man and them mfs headstrong! and that's what this song breathes!!! it gives a headstrong bad bitch that nobody can say shit to!!! THAT IS NICK!!! NICK ALWAYS PUTTING US AND OTHERS IN PLACE AND ITS NEEDED!!!

"NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH THESE HOES AINT PHASIN ME. NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH BOO BOO BITCH YOU DEAD TO ME" nick does not let this fandom phase him fr. he does wtf he wanna do when he wanna do it. of course he loves us and appreciates us, but he not with our bull shit!!

"UNFAZED UNBOTHERED UNFUCKWITHABLE BITCH, WHY BOTHER?" a lot of people like to sit up here and run they mouth saying nick is so bothered, and he cares too much about what people think. LIE!!!!! YALL JUST DONT UNDERSTAND HIM!!! HES UNFAZED WITH THE BULL SHIT, IT DON'T BOTHER HIM FR!!! HE FINDS THE SHIT FUNNY! HE LIKE MAKING YALL TALK ABOUT HIM BUT HE DONT UNDERSTAND WHY YALL START WITH HIM AND HIS FAMILY IN THE FIRST PLACE.

"IM THE PROBLEM, IM THE VILLIAN. I DONT SEE THESE HOES IN THESE RICK SHEILDS, THROWIN DIRT ON MY NAME AND HE GON HIT STILL!" people love to make nick the villain when he isn't!!! some people fr never had somebody tell them how it is and they just run with the narrative that someone is being mean when they not!!! he not being mean, he keeping it a buck fifty with yall!!! and tbh he don't care if yall see as the villain cuz why? he still got more money than us and we never gon be on his level fr.

@thenickgirl had to let ppl know to stop messing with him!!!!

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐈'𝐒 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 ☆ 𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄

i want to say this before i start. BEYONCE PUT HER WHOLE MF COOCHIE INTO COWBOY CARTER OMFGGGG!!!! IM SECRECTLY A WHORE FOR COUNTRY MUSIC SO I REALLY FEEL LIKE SHE MADE THIS ALBUM FOR ME!!!

OK LET'S GET INTO IT NO DOJA!

this description is going to be a bit different from Nick's and Chris's because I'm focusing more on the vibe of the song. the whole premise of this song (in my opinion) is two lovers just loving on each other! idk why i get big Matt vibes from this song😭 maybe because i love the idea of Cowboy Matt (before anyone say anything I'm making a Cowboy Matt series! it's already being written!) and yeah i don't have to say much more on that topic.

like yall know when Matt be smiling and giggling at his phone in car videos? i could already imagine his girlfriend sending him a pic of her ass in the new jeans and he just-

lemme stop before i write a whole separate fic for this song.

"YOU CALL ME PRETTY LITTLE THING, AND I LOVE TO TURN HIM ON." matt would deff call his girl a pretty little thing. she would be blushing and kicking her feet an ion blame her!!! and i too would love to turn him on!!

"BOY ILL LET YOU BE MY LEVI JEANS SO YOU CAN HUG THAT ASS ALL DAY LONG" matt would not resist looking at his gf ass and he would deff walk with his hand in her back pocket!!

"SO HOP OUT THE PHONE AND BRING THAT SHIT ON 'CAUSE IM GOING NOSEDIVE" matt the munch. pussy drunk. hurry tf up and bring your ass to him cause he bout to eat you out for hours!!!

thank you for coming to my ted talk on why Cowboy Matt is my fav and i need Matt eating me out ASAP!!!

𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐋𝐈𝐋 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒

I PROMISE IM NOT ONE OF THE FANS WHO LOVES SKIES CUZ OF CHRIS!!! I WAS LISTENING TO SKIES WHEN LIFE OF A DARK ROSE DROPPED!! i truly loves skies cuz his music just takes me back to the era of SoundCloud and i was actually happy lmao.

onto the topic.

now, i didn't pick this song cuz chris loves skies, i picked it cuz i feel like to a certain degree, it matches chris perfectly!!! lust doesn't have to mean sex, it could be towards money, adrenaline, etc.

Although Skies does talk about sex in this song, i think he's saying that he's lusting after money and the adrenaline that comes with fame and success, but he's lacking the love that was once there and he's lusting for love as well.

i think that relates to chris's whole being. he's constantly spitting out ideas and created his own brand to chase the bag, chase his dreams. i lowkey like to believe chris is an adrenaline junky. not in a sense of jumping off cliffs or anything, more in a sense of just doing stupid shit like fighting with his brothers and suggesting crazy plans.

idk if my description of this makes any sense i just can't put it into words so imma do the lyrics and try to explain further.

"GET IN MY WAY AND TRY TO BLOCK ME IMMA SHOW AGRESSION" this could be towards a person or himself. I'm not saying chris is money hungry, he's just about his bag. he wouldn't like for anyone, including himself to get in the way of making his dreams come true and if they do, i think he gets a bit hostile. it could be him cutting them off, or simply just distancing himself for a bit. if it's himself i think that's when he gets sad and beats himself up. he said it in a few videos that he becomes hard on himself, or he gets sad before bed and i think that's why.

"GOT NO REGRETS, I MADE MISTAKES, BUT I LEARNED FROM MY LESSONS" this lyrics speaks volumes for chris!!!! i feel like it was said by him that he doesn't regret things he's done in the past or experienced, but he's glad he's learned from them. i think all of them are big on "life's a lesson, learn from it." he doesn't dwell too much on the past, it's done and all he can do is move past it and learn to not make the same mistake with people or opportunities.

"DON'T BE ACTING STARSTRUCKED EVERYTIME THEY SHOW YOU LOVE." this could be towards friendships or relationships. it's no secret LA is full of fake people but it's honestly everyone at this point in time. i think chris realized that at some point. just because people smile in your face and act nice don't mean the friendship/relationship is real. people always want something, and its not always love, it could be sex, money, and or fame. it doesn't surprise him anymore. i think that's why he stick to who and what he knows, especially in the relationship sense.

i think imma do this every month, this was fun lmao. tell me what yall fav songs are atm!!!

TAGLIST 🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore @stasiesturn @loljackwasfat @nicksmainbitch @ninacutebee16 @mayhem-72 @sturniolosmind @breeloveschris @mattslolita @mattsivy @guccifrog @hysteria-things @mrssturnioloo @koris_009 @patscorner @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @nickuniversity @luverboychris @thenickgirl @riasturns @imwetforyourmom @junnniiieee07 @realuvrrr @milasturniolo @fwskullz @hearts4tatemcrae @mattandchrismakemewett @chrissystur @canthelpit0 @strnilo @demistyles @junovrsmp4 @heartsforchrisandmatt @maryx2xx @vecnasnose0 @freshsturns @xxsturnxx @pettydollie @crimsoncorpse @sturnssmuts @sturniolovoid @m0r94n

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statementlou · 9 months

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#just realized that Louis singing 'I love him' during the back up vocals part of BTY #matches with the lyrics on the screens behind the picture #remember how everyone was like ??!!!? at the beginning of tour about the words on the screens during that song #and then when you can see them it turns out its the lyrics but for some reason with a past tense 3rd person chorus of backing vocals too #which is not what is being sung by the band??? but there you go #actually fascinated by putting that together with my earlier theory of HIM being the original lyric much to think about...#anyway putting this in tags so I don't have to argue with people who want to believe its a larry thing #both can be true! and why would you want that song to be about harry! and obviously louis is gay we know that???#but not sure this says much either way about it #but mostly I'm just interested in all the things. I don't care about talking people out of anything #I'm just excited about having connected some kind of dot #maybe¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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doobea · 4 months

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YOU'RE A MEAN ONE, MISTER GOJO ─ SATORU G.

synopsis: satoru gojo is spoiled and arrogant. he's also the next in line to inherit his family's fortune. his father sends him far away in a small town for a week in hopes that he'll 'change' for the better. instead of the usual five-starred hilton hotels, he stays at a local inn and starts to befriend the owner's daughter.

tropes: small town romance, christmas au, golden retriever x black cat

MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST

contents: fem!reader, spoiled rich boy!gojo, acts like an ass to everyone but hopelessly falls in love with you at first sight, feels like a really bad hallmark movie, mentions of wealth class differences, reader isn't a tsundere - she's just indifferent for the most part and introverted word count: 7.5K (idk i will uh make the fics shorter in the future) a/n: thank you anon for requesting this!! idk if this is what you wanted but hopefully you like it!! :3 everyone also give a round of applause to @popponn for beta reading this big mess LMAO

Satoru Gojo has a lot of expectations, but this certainly isn’t one of them.

He isn’t particularly excited about spending a week away from his big city penthouse to be rotting in a small town motel in the middle of nowhere but, his father, CEO of Gojo Corporations, heavily insisted that he ‘needs this’ and that ‘it’ll be good for the company’ — whatever that means. Satoru is confident that his father thinks he’s incapable of running the family business after last month’s run with the paparazzi and his third fling of the month. It wasn’t his fault that they got caught doing drugs at one of Zenin's parties, everyone else was doing the same thing, it just so happened that the cameras were only focusing on him.

Well, that’s what he gets for signing up to be the son of one of the richest men on Earth.

“You need to start taking this seriously,” he recalls his father slamming his fist down at the desk before throwing a bottle of Henessy at the wall. “I don’t want this company to go bankrupt just because I have a son who only thinks with his dick.”

Ouch… but he’s not wrong about that.

So now Satoru finds himself driving up a winding road somewhere very deep in the mountains. Exactly five hours away from the city. And, for the past three hours, all he’s been seeing are miles and miles of pine trees, sheets of snow, and — he had recently learned this from Suguru — sugar shacks. Apparently when you’re out over a hundred miles into wilderness territory these sap houses are littered everywhere. The fact that Satoru is beginning to count more shacks than designer cars on the road is really starting to get to him.

“This whole thing is so fucking stupid,” Satoru has also been talking to himself throughout the journey in order to not lose his mind. “He could’ve just sent me door to door caroling instead of whatever this is.” Satoru doesn’t know how to sing well, but he does know all the lyrics to ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ and that usually gets him all the tips. He wonders if he can manage to make a small side hustle when he starts wasting his week here.

He takes a sharp turn up around the hill before finally recognizing a big red sign with the name ‘Mistle Town’ as seen on the postcard his dad left him before leaving. It takes him another five minutes of driving through said small town, which is quite literally something out of one of those really bad holiday movies that his mom would force him to watch when he was little, before arriving at the inn. Upon arriving, Satoru is noticeably disappointed at the lack of valet assistance and, the size and design of the inn, is rather lackluster.

First, it just looks like a regular white farmhouse. Maybe having a max of ten rooms, none of them being penthouse sized, Satoru assumes. There are a couple of flowerbeds out front, all covered in a couple of inches of snow, and there’s subtle signs of holiday decor slowly bleeding its way outside. He sees someone dressed in an oversized puffer by the entrance, arms occupied with red tinsel and large white ornaments, and figures that the first nice thing he’ll do is to help out a random stranger — just to prove something to his dad.

Satoru parks his Rolls Royce in a spot furthest away from everyone else in the parking lot and sends a ‘im alive and well’ text to Suguru, because he’s very much so going to be in frequent contact with him for the remainder of the trip, before heading up.

“Need a hand?” He points out the obvious but still manages to throw a smile as if he’s already fixed the situation unfolding in front of him.

Satoru’s presence seems to pull you from your busy trance. You wiped your body around, nearly smacking the damn tinsel in his face, and made a small surprised noise.

“I’ve got it,” you muffle out and he looks entirely unconvinced but, whatever, he tried anyway.

Satoru gives you a few encouraging pats on the back before heading inside, failing to realize his strength and causing you to lose your balance, making a few ornaments tumble to the ground. Thank god they’re all plastic though.

He pretends to not hear you yelling after him as he enters the double doors, immediately greeted by the scent of roasted coffee beans and leather. It’s the precious hour in the morning where nobody comes by, right after the cleaning staff had just finished vacuuming, when he struts in. He immediately spots someone vaguely familiar by the front desk. Long black hair, a red poofy bow tie in the back, and a distinctive scar across her face. The woman isn’t working alone, a man with another facial marking is next to her, brewing two cups of coffee by the espresso machine.

Satoru looks at the woman again and outwardly smiles. “What are you doing here?”

“Ugh,” Utahime’s composure immediately falters at the sound of his voice, not that it’s a big shock. “Helping the family business, what else?” she throws back with a certain sharpness to her tone, and waves off the casual talk. “Have you even mentally prepared yourself for what you’re getting into?”

Satoru simply shrugs and saunters over to a nearby seat by the counter. “Nah, honestly just planning to fuck around till I get back.”

Utahime flushes a little, though it’s mainly from frustration. “Satoru Gojo, you really are—”

“Utahime,” the man next to her speaks, handing her a cup of coffee, and slides Satoru a freshly brewed one, too. “I can explain the details to him, if you would like?”

The older female rubs the bridge of her nose and exhales a long, overdue sigh. “Please do, Choso.”

“Yeah,” Satoru leans into the counter, lips pointed down at this new face. “Please, do tell.”

“You’re basically our little Santa helper.” A new voice rings out from behind him. It spooks Satoru from his seat and he whips his head around to be met with your narrow eyes.

“Huh?”

“Also think of this as an unpaid internship.” You start laughing when he gags on his own saliva at your statement. “Okay, you don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”

Satoru swallows. “U-Unpaid…?”

Now it’s Utahime’s turn to speak, she huffs and tosses a couple of stockings into his arms. “Your father sent us a lengthy email a few days prior regarding your bratty behavior. So, of course, we came prepared.”

“Prepared…?” He feels the fabric in his hands and whines at the grainy texture. This is so not 100% real wool.

If Satoru thought he had any chance of actually taking over his father’s company, because he knows the difference between supply and demand, he’s wrong.

Customer service is not his forte. He’s always thrown emails and sponsorship paperwork at his many assistants, and Satoru doesn’t even know his own email log-in password. So, when you walked up to him first thing the next morning with a brown apron, the inn’s logo large and embroidered in the center, telling him how to function all these coffee machines that he’s seen behind hundreds of counters, it invoked some fear into his already wrecked nerves. Plus, no one dared to warn him about the clientele during a holiday rush.

“I want a venti peppermint frappe with two pumps of chocolate, three pumps of hazelnut, replace it with almond milk, one shot of espresso, and top it off with a drizzle of caramel on top.”

He slumps against the counter. “You sure you want all of that?”

“Can I please get a half dozen sfogliatella and a cannoli?

He starts picking at his cuticles and sneers. “Sorry, I don’t speak Italian.”

“My change is supposed to be five dollars, you only gave me three back?”

Satoru groans. “You’re trying to scam me, aren’t you?”

By the end of his four hour shift, Satoru feels like he’s just done more charity work than he’s ever done in his life — actually, maybe this could also be comparable to the time where he did the ribbon cutting ceremony at Chanel; gotta support small businesses, right?

“Gojo.” You’re seated across from him behind the counter, arms crossed and pursed lips.

He barely spares you a glance as he idly plays whatever shitty mobile game that’s number one on the app store. “Mhm? What is it?” He clearly knows you’re upset, your voice practically screams ‘I will end you’ in the most monotonous way possible. But can you blame him? Of all places, Satoru does not want to spend his winter break here.

You jerk your head to the side, fingers rhythmically tapping away on the counter, clearly unimpressed. “It hasn’t even been a full day and you’ve managed to piss off every single customer.”

Satoru expression shifts, brow creasing, and sighs, grabbing a handful of mint chocolate from the freebie candy jar by the register. “Don’t be dramatic,” he rolls his eyes and shoves three pieces in his mouth before jabbing a finger at a young man. “I didn’t piss him off!”

You glower, cheeks slightly puffed out. “That’s Yuuji and he’s practically a family friend and Choso’s little brother, so he doesn’t count,” you explain before adding, “Plus, he’s literally nice to everyone. You’re not special.”

And for a second, Satoru considered arguing that fact. Having been born into wealth, granted whatever wish he wanted, his butlers and maids are always on speed dial, that’s the lifestyle he’s used to. Placed on this tiny rock called Earth just to take over it one day, is what his father used to always say to him. But how can he, Satoru Gojo, take over when he’s stuck working a minimum — scratch that, unpaid — wage job as punishment?

Instead of fighting, Satoru slumps against the counter and pouts, like a little kid who just got their toy taken away. You and your sister Utahime have a clear advantage over him, by somehow being close, yet distant, friends to his family. Maybe karma is real.

“I’m putting you on ski lessons later.”

Satoru’s ears perk at this. “Oh, so I get some employee benefits, right?”

You roll your eyes, digging deep in your pockets to pull out a sheet with his name next to a list of others. “Wrong. You’re in charge of teaching five year olds how to ski.”

“Huh?”

Somehow that sounds even worse than being a barista. Kinda.

By the end of his first day of unemployment, Satoru tries to convince himself that a full change of scenery is nice. Well, he has to convince himself, otherwise he’s stuck dreading each coming day for the rest of the week.

“Tired yet, Gojo?”

You flop down on a spare armchair in his room, squishing his Canada Goose jacket underneath. He’s too tired to yell at you to get off and tumbles onto his bed, feet dangling off the edge, letting out a loud groan when his face immediately makes contact with the rough wooly blanket. Surprisingly to him, everything just feels so comfortable that the quality of the products doesn’t even cross his mind.

Sure, the air in the room is a bit musty, and he can feel his cheeks flaring up from the sudden change in temperature and the dull aching nag in his legs from demonstrating ski tricks to toddlers, but there’s an odd sense of fulfillment swelling in his chest just about now. He almost suggests taking over Choso’s lesson but, according to the hotel pamphlet, there’s going to be an ice fishing tournament tomorrow and he kinda wants to check that out, too.

“Exhausted,” he mumbles into the sheets, eyes squeezed shut. Satoru wiggles his body around for a few moments before slipping out of his snow boots and stares out the window, noticing flickering green and purple lights in the night sky. “Woah, are those…?”

He hears you laugh beside him. “Yeah, northern lights. We see them all the time during the winter.”

“Only seen them bitches in ‘Polar Express’.” Satoru finds himself saying whatever’s on his mind right now, his brain too whipped out to control his mouth. “You guys are lucky to see this every night.”

“I know you’re all pooped out from today but,” he feels the mattress dip by the edge and your fingers poking at his thighs. “Did you wanna head up to the balcony and watch them for a bit?” you say this experimentally, waiting for his reaction.

Satoru might be a stranger to most natural phenomenons, having to zone out all the time whenever he did go on family vacations to a fancy national park when he was younger. Though, during the short time of spending his time here, it makes him think about packing up and leaving behind the fast paced city life for a bit of natural beauty and brightness.

“Carry me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re like a giant.”

He manages to gather some energy to sit up on his elbows. “You should at least have some form of hospitality to a family friend, you know?”

You eye him for a long moment, and then finally huff, breaking the contact to kick your feet into the festive carpeted floor. “Alright, just don’t lean your whole body weight on me.”

“Wouldn’t count on that.”

Both of you end up tumbling onto the balcony rails around one in the morning. As expected, Satoru couldn’t keep to his promise, throwing his ridiculously long arms around your shoulders, and whining the whole way up the stairs. It’s not his fault that the inn didn’t have an elevator installed. In all, it’s not a bad day — a bad night, even.

You straighten him against the railing before throwing a blanket over him. The fabric is thick and heavy, and Satoru forgets the ache in his limbs as he watches the way your eyes focus, eyebrows knitted, when you’re making sure he stays bundled up against the winter air. Once upon a time, Satoru never would’ve thought he would actually enjoy being in the company of someone who’s actively trying to teach him a lesson.

“Okay,” you say suddenly, almost like a reminder that you need to breathe, and pull away from him once he’s wrapped tightly like a swaddled baby.

You both sit in silence for a moment, and Satoru feels the urge to fill all that silence. He supposes maybe that’s why most people find him so annoying. He never really shuts up, always wants to add the last comment to everything. Though, with the help of Suguru by his side, it’s gotten slightly easier and bearable for others but, when his head is big and full of loud thoughts, it’s so hard trying to calm the buzzing noise in his head and —

“Gojo, look,” your pointer finger darts at the illuminated skyline in the distance and he snaps his head, following the trail, before gasping.

He feels your other hand tugging at the blanket when he finally makes out two faint bright lights in the distance. You squirm slightly next to him, to the point where your shoulders touch, and Satoru finally breathes, because suddenly, there’s heat rushing in. The loud, rough winds around him seem to die down and he’s aware of the slightly gazed expression on your face as you look into the far distance.

“Did you make a wish?” he finds himself whispering.

You grin. “Yeah, gonna make you work here for eternity,” you reply back in good natured spirit.

Something stirs inside Satoru. Something important. Well, Satoru-level important, so in the grand scheme of things, not very — but still. He unravels parts of his blanket and throws it over your head, making sure that it messes up your hair, and laughs when you throw him another pout.

“Did you make a wish?” you adjust the blanket so it covers your shoulders, moving a little closer to him, avoiding the cool breeze.

Satoru nods but presses a finger to his lips. “Not telling, though. Might not come true if I do.”

“Oh, shoot. Maybe I should’ve kept mine a secret then.”

He rolls his eyes and nudges your waist with an elbow. “You will definitely not see me here again.”

Satoru realizes, very fast, that his life has become very different, very quickly. And it might not be the bad kind of different.

Over the course of the next few days, he’s practically glued to your side as you’re showing him all things related to hospitality that his father tried to drill into him when he was a pre-teen. Obviously, it didn’t work at the time. Satoru’s known for being defiant just because he wanted to, and eventually his father stopped with the after school etiquette lessons. You, on the other hand, unfortunately have him tied around your fingers.

“You need to tidy up the edges more, Gojo.”

“There’s barely a wrinkle in these sheets!” He points at the bed sheet on the mattress, the one that he’d been working on for the last ten minutes in vain while you stood next to him with slightly concerned eyes. It’s a room service type of lesson today and, even though Satoru has never made his own bed before, he’s positive that he didn’t leave behind any smudges that might catch anyone’s eye.

“Did you check tuck in the sides? Or are you trying to get off easy for today?” You say, there’s a mild accusation in your tone when you speak, smiling as you step aside.

And, despite the warm smile, Satoru frowns a little, because guess who forgot to tuck in the sides?

When Satoru ducks his head around the mattress and sees a good loose chunk of the sheets hanging off and groans when you’re right. “It’s not my fault that they’ve made them so big for no reason,” he replies, somewhat embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head and messing up his already ruffled hair.

You roll your eyes and stick a tongue out. “You’re getting the hang of it though, maybe even faster than Yuuji when he first offered to help.”

He flushes at the unexpected praise and quickly fixes the sheets, turning his whole entire body away from your sight. “Better than Yuuji, right?”

“Oh? So, you only work better with compliments, Gojo?” You sound amused, as if a lightbulb just popped on top of your head.

Satoru flattens out the bed once more, strangely now feeling satisfied with the final outcome before turning around, sticking out a tongue of his own. “Only if it’s from you,” he answers, honestly.

You laugh, and hopefully it’s not at him. “I thought you would be more annoying to deal with.”

“So, I’m just regular amounts of annoying?” He points out, with a fake frown, his fingers fiddling with the edges of the sheet.

You turn your gaze, seemingly in deep thought, before responding with a small shrug and grin. “Possibly a perfect amount of annoying.”

Satoru feels the blood rushing to his cheeks, again. “Well, of course, it’s the perfect amount because I’m perfect,” he replies, instantly, but suddenly he’s shy and feels the need to go to the next room to fix their stupid sheets before he combusts in front of you.

“Gojo,” you say, almost hesitantly.

He swallows and rubs the back of his neck, wiping off evidence of his sweaty palms. “Yeah?”

“You missed a spot,” and your pointer fingers direct at the far right corner of the bed frame. He must’ve pulled the sides too hard and it caused the other side to flip over. Ugh, he’s not cut out for this at all.

“I’m… uh, still better than Yuuji, right?”

“Mhm, getting there, Gojo.”

By day four, Satoru has surprisingly adjusted to the rules and responsibilities. He’s not entirely sure what’s gotten him mildly well behaved, Suguru is a bit surprised by the daily updates being less… aggressive and whiny. What started as long vent paragraphs about the lack of heated flooring and needy customers, soon turned into photo albums of kids face planting into the snow and unconsented selfies with you in the background. Satoru absolutely makes sure you end up looking the worst out of the two because he’s gotta let his best friend know who’s the prettiest and he’s definitely racking up a blackmail album of all of your worst moments in case anything happens in the future.

It’s closing time and he just got back from the reindeer shed out in the back, covered head to toe in all things hay and snow. First things first, and no one bothered to tell him, but reindeers smell bad. Like, really bad. Especially at the end of the day, where their pens are covered in shit and countless carrots and apple bits from the little kids overfeeding them. Satoru is vaguely aware of the fact that he smells, just like he’s vaguely aware that the hotel lobby is oddly quiet from the usual banter between you and the usual workers.

Utahime and Choso are sitting by the cafe bar, seemingly deep in conversation about ordering more supplies for next week. Satoru thinks about interrupting their session with probably an unrelated dumb question, but the idea dies when Utahime notices his presence and motions him to come over.

“You stink,” Satoru casts a half-glare at Utahime and begins picking out some of the scattered hay pieces stuck to his sweater.

“For the record, I became good friends with Rudolph and Vixen today,” he grumbles back and Choso throws him a pat on the back.

“Hey, I don’t mind your stink, by the way. Smells kinda nice,” Choso offers up, but Satoru only shoots him a very unhappy look.

“If you think I smell nice then I’m really worried about what you think smells bad,” then he turns over to Utahime again, who’s engrossed in whatever is on her clipboard right now. “So, what did you need from me?”

“My sister,” she starts and taps away at the clipboard before handing it over to him. It’s pages upon pages of invoices from the past month. “Could you hand this to her? She should be in the back.”

“You treating me like an errand boy?”

Utahime scoffs. “What? Don’t wanna see her?”

“No, I do,” he responds, a bit too fast for his own liking, and straightens out. “Uh, is that all?” Satoru hopes his face doesn’t betray how much he’s a bit excited to interact with you, given that today was a full day out in the trenches, and he absolutely needs to hear you say his name at least twice a day in order to have a good night’s sleep.

Choso is trying really hard not to laugh, and Satoru takes it as a sign that he currently has a cheesy smile on his face — go figure. “One of the corner rooms upstairs requested a weighted blanket, mind also doing that too?”

There’s a certain relief that floods through Satoru and he thinks maybe he can take on a few more tasks for the night if that means spending a little more time with you, even if his body is screaming that he needs to take a two hour long shower.

“Hey,” he starts to say when he rounds the corner, “Where’d you put those weighted blankets again?”

Satoru expected to walk in on you neck-deep in paperwork. You’ve mentioned earlier in the week that this year would be the busiest and there’s a bunch of stuff due. Something about end of the year tax returns and inventory counts, it all goes out his ear but he remembers something similar that his father told him in a prior conversation. He thinks he could probably help you figure out some of it, but that might be a bit much.

What he walks in on, thought, is you sitting in your little makeshift office. You’re on your laptop, the screen’s tilted just right enough that he gets a glimpse of what you’re looking at. You’re looking at flights and hotels, even got a whole spreadsheet on the second monitor. From what he’s seen of you so far, you didn’t come off as the type to talk about your future that much.

His voice catches you by surprise and your expression flickers from something vaguely focused to embarrassment real quick. You hastily close out the tabs and go back to the hotel’s homepage.

“What is it, Gojo?” And there’s this awkward, oddly frantic moment of you fumbling around with the keyboard and mouse, like a teenage boy who’s just got caught looking at porn.

“Ah,” Satoru thinks seeing your flustered side is rather adorable, to say the least. “You tryin’ to plan a vacation or something?” He struts over to your desk, placing a firm hand onto the back of the chair, and there’s this smile on his face that just screams ‘gotcha’.

Your face scrunches up but it’s not out of annoyance. “Kinda?”

Even with a grumpy look, it’s a good look on you. Makes you kinda dark, brooding, and beautiful, and it turns your eyes into dark storm clouds, or some other weird, waxy poetic shit that Satoru can’t figure out the words to. Either way, Satoru thinks you look cute and can’t stop noticing your little facial movements. You’re more expressive than you would probably imagine.

“Ooh, where to?”

You sigh and start playing with your thumbs. “Malaysia. My friend told me great things about it and I’ve been meaning to go for a while now but time and money are always iffy.”

“Makes sense, I can imagine that being an inn assistant doesn’t pay all the bills.”

That was probably the wrong thing to say. You huff and glare, an icy-death glare, at him. If looks could kill, Satoru is sure that he’ll be six feet underground by now.

“Weighted blankets are on the second floor closet by the laundry room,” you answer his initial question curtly before shutting the laptop. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“It was just a question,” he mumbles slowly, and maybe even a little dangerously. “If money’s an issue—”

“Gojo.” Your voice is fixed and rigid, one that leaves absolutely no room for debate. “Your dad was right about you; you always just fall back to your fame and wealth.”

As you’re busy staring, Satoru realizes that you’re kinda being a total ass to him right now.

“That’s not fair,” his voice is rising and can’t seem to put a stop to the words spilling out. “Don’t bring my dad into this conversation.”

“Or what? You can go back to your privileged life anytime you want. This is just a field trip for you while others actually have to try hard and make a living.” You spit out.

“No one forced you to become an inn worker, you know? If you’re so worried about money then you could’ve just found another high paying job.” Satoru wrinkles his nose and his volume continues to rise.

You immediately offer him a dark glare and it comes off in a cut-throat way that shuts Satoru up mid thought. The rest of his counters die in his throat when you start making hand gestures at the office exit and he gets the hint: ‘leave before I lose my shit’ is the calling he sees.

And it works, because he finds his tone shifting a little, awkwardly kicking the floor and backing off. “Whatever…”

That was last night and, by now, Satoru is realizing that he’s kind of a giant asshole and the guilt is slowly eating away at him. Was he always like this? It couldn’t have been — he’s only met you a few days ago, and this is only meant to be a quick, ‘vacational’, getaway. Sure he might be a bit selfish and a dick, but he had been able to function perfectly fine before all of this, hadn’t he?

Satoru’s not really sure.

It’s noon, and he’s lying in bed. Choso had asked him to cover his shift at the cafe, and he’d agreed, readily, even though it’s supposed to be his day off, because you’re working. Choso had texted him, though, saying that you had simply said you’d work the entire shift by yourself.

Of course. It’s absolutely not funny anymore.

Satoru sighs. He’s going to apologize, that’s for sure. It wounds some of his pride, yeah, but whatever, this tension between you guys, though, isn’t worth it. He finds himself wasting his entire morning away rotting in bed. There are things that he could be doing, that he looks forward to, like feeding the reindeers or demonstrating basic ski moves to little kids. Choso and Yuuji totally got him addicted to yelling out ‘pizza’ and ‘french fry’ at every chance he gets. They also got him addicted to a shitty relationship forum they both browse, but somehow the idea of reading other people’s relationship drama, when he’s facing drama of his own, is kinda mentally exhausting.

On second thought, maybe he should post on that forum, actually.

It might not be such a bad idea.

Or maybe he could reach out to Suguru and ask how to apologize?

His best friend is a bit more grounded and attuned with other people’s feelings compared to him, afterall. Satoru’s not good at this stuff and he’s always just cut others off whenever they do argue, but this feels different. And, well, for the first time in forever, Satoru is desperate.

“I fucked up big time and I need to apologize, help me out here?”

Suguru scoffs over the line. “Wow, what happened to saying ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’?”

Satoru rolls his eyes. “Hi, hello. How are you? How do I make a sincere apology?”

“I’m good, thank you. Now, for your request, depends on how big the fuck up is.”

He bites his tongue, finding the right words to essentially not sound like a huge dick but, no matter how he wants to rephrase it, the outcome is the same. “I might’ve implied that she’s poor and needs someone to take care of her?” It sounds so stupid, so mean, and so degrading now that he’s saying it out loud.

He hears Suguru sucking in his teeth and sighs. After a couple of pauses, his best friend finally speaks. “That’s pretty fucked up.”

Satoru frowns. “Okay, yeah, it is,” and he sits up in his bed when a snowball makes an impact against the window. It’s Utahime. And, currently, she’s throwing him the nastiest glare that a woman has ever given him in his life. “Um, I’ll call you back, buddy…”

“What? I haven’t given you—”

“Don’t have time for unwarranted advice right now.”

“You called me!”

“Bye!” Satoru ends the call before shuffling towards the window, swallowing a hard lump, and inches the glass panel just small enough for him to hear coherently and not big enough for her to punt him across the face. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”

But Utahime is in an obvious shitty mood and Satoru’s lack of charming antics aren’t going to work this time. “I’m going to apologize, I promise,” he tries to insist.

“This is all your fault,” she immediately gets to the point and it makes him shrink back just a tiny bit. He’s starting to see that the bluntness runs in the family. “Just get your ass to work.”

“But my shift doesn’t start till—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Utahime starts to form an even bigger snowball and raises it to the window panel. “Ass out of bed, now.”

Okay, so as much as Satoru had tried to tell himself that this week wouldn’t be bad, it’s really starting to get fucking awful.

Everyone’s in a shit mood. Yuuji tries to crack some jokes but the usual crowd isn’t having it. You’ve been throwing Satoru dirty looks while working behind the cafe counter together and he’s been put on drink duty — which is his worst nightmare — while you’re attending to the customers because you’re young and cute enough for them to be nice to you. Satoru has spilled hot coffee and chocolate on himself like four times so far, and the shift just started. He’s terrified that the rest of this week is going to be like this.

“Can we talk?” Satoru whisper shouts over the espresso machine.

He sees your shoulders tensing up but immediately relaxes them afterwards. “Did you hear something, Yuuji?”

The boy looks up from the bar counter, it’s his day off and he’s catching up on some homework, but the seemingly growing tension that’s unfolding in front of him is making it painfully hard for him to focus on anything engineering related. Yuuji scratches the back of his neck before darting his eyes back and forth between the two of you. Normally, he would be the voice of reason, but Satoru doesn’t blame him when he shakes his head.

“N-Nah, must’ve been the wind or something...”

Great, he’s been reduced to an air draft.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you agree without missing a beat. As the next customer in line spends an eternity holding everyone up, debating whether to get the seasonal muffin or french toast to go with their drink, you continue, “Thought I heard a rotten brat for a second.”

He absolutely doesn’t expect the harsh insult. Satoru widens his eyes at the outburst and there’s a small pause, the silence ticking in between everyone, and he’s sure that you’re glaring him down somewhere in a small reflection on the counter.

Satoru debates whether to call out your name and shake some sense into you, but Yuuji quickly swallows and makes a motion with his hands to his throat, a universal signal saying — ‘I wouldn’t test the waters, if I were you’.

And, after the customer finally decides that they didn’t want any pastries with their coffee order, you finish the transaction before announcing that you’re going on a small fifteen minute break to “stretch”. Though, anyone could see that you’re planning to cool off before you manage to actually blow up in Satoru’s face.

“How the hell am I going to talk to her?” he groans to Yuuji once you’re finally away. He’s managing the cash register and, surprisingly, finishes taking the remaining orders quite smoothly compared to his first day. At least he can pat himself on the back for this.

“You’ve really pissed her off, dude,” Yuuji replies and Satoru just rolls his eyes because that’s all he’s been hearing from everyone else all day today. “You should talk to her when she’s not… charged up.”

“Way to point out the obvious.” Sometimes he forgets that Yuuji is a bit oblivious. How is he doing so well as a mechanical engineering major?

Yuuji makes an audible ‘pop’ and whistles. “What did you even say to her?”

Satoru groans into his hands. “Did she not tell you?”

“Well, she wasn’t exactly in a chippy mood to talk about anything this morning — outside of work, that is.”

“Here’s a little TLDR version: might’ve said something classist.”

“Might’ve?”

“Okay, definitely said something classist.”

“Then…” Yuuji drums his fingers against the counter, deep in thought. “Y’know, whenever me and Megumi fight, I always invite him out to the movies to try and cheer him up. Might not be applicable to you but…”

Satoru blinks. “Are you suggesting a date would help?”

“Maybe not a date—”

“No, I’m sorry for calling you dumb, you’re so right—a nice date might work!”

“You never called me dumb, though?”

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say, kiddo.”

Satoru unravels the ribbon on his apron and throws it in Yuuji’s general direction, not caring if he tossed the stained uniform directly in his face. He hops the counter and pats the younger male on the shoulder, flashing him a genuine smile because, hey, maybe Yuuji actually is smarter than he looks.

“Gonna totally invite you to the wedding.”

It’s no secret that Satoru Gojo hasn’t been on a proper date in a pathetically long time.

He has swiped right on a number of highly influential celebrities and figures on dating apps before. Matched with nearly all of them. Gone on…maybe a lot of first dates with not a lot of second dates coming right after. Who cares though, everyone’s just there for the photos and followers anyway. Satoru knows that he’s attractive and that he personally loves big, lavish dates but, at this point, he knows you enough to understand you absolutely hate big gestures.

After a short winded conversation with Suguru and Utahime, separately, Satoru has concluded on not buying you first class tickets to Malaysia.

“Are you trying to get her to hate your guts?” Was the general consensus of the conversation with said people.

So, what’s the next best option if he can’t fly you out to Malaysia? The answer is pretty simple — bring Malaysia to Mistle Town. And no, he’s not going to be relying on his black card for anything, even though the back of his mind is telling him otherwise.

Choso blinks several times at Satoru’s printed out proposal. The colorful letters and Google image photos of beaches and coconuts slapped poorly onto the document screams back at Choso and Yuuji, bright and early on Christmas Eve.

It’s unusual for Satoru to be bouncing excitedly in place for someone other than himself. So this catches everyone off guard.

Yuuji whispers something intangible to Choso, but Satoru is able to make it out as, “Do we even have coconuts here?”

To which Choso replies, “It’s winter, so I don’t think so.”

And Yuuji moves onto the next question in queue, “What should we do about the lack of palm trees?”

A patient sigh from Choso, “We could always trim the pine trees outside?” He lamely suggests.

“It’s a good idea, no?” Satoru jumps right back in, completely missing the flat vibe from the brothers. He frowns. “Why are you guys giving me that look?”

And, like his best friend and your sister, the brothers throw him a confused head tilt.

“Well,” Yuuji weakly starts, “Your plan ‘Project: Bring Malaysia here in hopes of Y/N falling in love with me’ doesn’t really sound that great… even on paper.”

Satoru grins, fully expecting that to be the response. “I’ll order the things, don’t worry about it. I just need to borrow your lungs for this project.”

Yuuji scratches his cheek in confusion, laughing nervously again. “Our lungs…?” he echos.

“How long do I have to keep this dumb blindfold on, Choso?”

“U-Um,” Choso shoots Satoru a brow as he carefully guides you through the hotel lobby.

It’s currently decked out from head to toe in all things yellow, green, and pink beach themed inflatables. Choso and Yuuji reminded Satoru last night that maybe two flamingos would’ve been enough to get the message across, but seeing that he ordered a whole colony? Yeah, he’s sending the rich boy prayers as he reels you in further, avoiding collision with the colorful balloons and seven-foot tall palm trees, too.

“Choso?”

He squeezes your shoulders when Satoru shoots him a thumbs up. “Ten seconds.”

Satoru quietly walks over to both of you, tip toeing so the sounds of his loafers are minimized against the flooring. Once he’s inches away, Choso retreats off into a different room, mouthing to him words of final encouragement, which Satoru gladly took.

You appear restless under the blindfold. “I swear to god, if I take it off and there’s a giant pile of reindeer shit in the middle of the lobby I will actually kill somebody—”

And Satoru quietly debates whether or not he wants to keep you like this for a little while before revealing the big surprise. Seeing you flustered and confused is a very cute look on you, after all. But, he’s gotten you this far and it would absolutely kill him to leave you on such a bad notice. It’s now early evening, and the sun’s just starting to set enough that the golden rays illuminate your features from this angle. It takes Satoru back to his first private meeting with you on the balcony and he remembers why he’s even doing this in the first place.

Carefully and slowly, he slips down the blindfold and softly calls out your name. “Hey, take a look around you.”

Your eyes are blown wide when you see his face. Anger and frustration dissipate from your face when you soon realize that Satoru carries a soft expression. He watches as the emotions wash off as quickly as they came. Then, you finally take a look around your surroundings and gasp. “You—You did all of this for me?”

Satoru tenses a little, a bit on the edge. “You want the short or long answer?”

You don’t notice because you’re too preoccupied with the numerous fake flamingos around you. “On second thought, maybe no answer would also work.”

He laughs at this, slightly, before turning shy again. He feels silly, ashamed, and it makes his cheeks flush. “I wanted to say sorry again for what I said earlier.”

“You finally want to talk about it?”

He looks at your idle hands and then back to your face. When he sees that you don't move them away as he inches closer, he takes both of them into his palms, giving them a tight squeeze. “Yeah, I was a big idiot and I thought I was trying to help in the beginning but I just sounded—no, I am—a giant ass.” Satoru concludes.

The atmosphere grows quiet and heavy again. The air humid and thick despite the opened windows and you’re looking at him. Then, there are tiny little smiles that break out on your face, like freckles and stars in the sky.

“You’re such a pillow princess,” and he outright blushes ten shades darker at the nickname, “you’re lucky you’re cute.” Coming from you, that’s as good as a love confession.

I like you, he thinks, but doesn’t say it. He really likes you and doesn’t want to fuck this up.

But, everyone knows that Satoru Gojo is a child at heart.

Satoru doesn’t know who gives in first; realistically, it might’ve been one of those stupid, rare, impossible moments where it’s completely shared. Suddenly the gaudy blow up palm trees and inflatable pool blur from his vision and he feels the world roaring around him when your palms rest on his cheeks. He ducks his head down but you’re the one who closes the distance between.

You taste like strawberries and lavender, smell like warm cocoa, and feel softer than any sherpa blanket he’s had. Satoru closes his eyes and his vision goes white, his hands shakily snake around your waist, pressing you hard against his chest as if you might disappear at any moment. Satoru sighs into the kiss, it feels pleasantly warm, that throb in his chest, it’s a slow, steady thrum of simmering desire and comfort. He’s pretty sure he’s adding way too much tongue, the drool and saliva that comes dripping between you two will be uncomfortable soon, but for now, it adds to the blissed out, satisfaction you’re both basking in.

Finally, you pull away, shortening yourself a good several inches from planting the rest of your feet on the ground. Your eyes are glossed over, watery and looking at him without vexation. “You’re something else.” You say, but there’s no bite.

Satoru doesn’t speak for a moment. He’s too focused on the feeling of your warm fingers sprawled all over his heating face. Too focused on the dull pulse of both nervousness and infatuation slowly spreading through his body because you’re giving him that look. This all feels romantic and stupid, he thinks.

“I’m sorry, again.” The words are quiet, hesitant, and Satoru almost regrets them the moment he speaks.

You shift around a little, now dancing on the balls of your feet, but the grasp you have on his cheeks is still relatively firm, even applying a bit of more pressure as if it’s your way of showing reassurance. You tip your head; your eyes are so vivid and bright, it sends a shiver down Satoru’s spine. In this moment, he remembers every single thing between them in shocking detail — the awkwardness, the tension, the frustration, the dumb banters, and suddenly he’s overwhelmed.

“I’ll forgive you if you give me a private city tour,” you laugh. “And come back to work with us again next year.”

Satoru offers a small smile. “Unpaid?”

“Will you say no if it is?”

He hugs you tighter, a chuckle bubbles in his throat. “I don’t think I can say no because it’s you.”

Though, while some might think that Satoru is the real loser here for being whipped so hard over a small town girl, you know that deep down the real loser is you. Because you managed to have the son of a CEO wrapped around your fingers and now you will never know peace again. But you’re not really complaining; instead, you’re working even harder to save just enough to eventually see your dream destination while Satoru whines and sends an ungodly amount of selfies everyday when he’s back home. And you won’t allow yourself to get snappy because, well, you’re very much head over heels for him, too.

#event: i got my eyes on youೄྀ࿐ˊˎ #doobea writing #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #satoru gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen x female reader

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cyn-write · 2 months

Text

"You've Bewitched Me"

Prompt - NRC is in upheaval. A video of Yuu singing a song has been circling around the school about her being "bewitched," and everyone is trying to figure out by who. Yuu is embarrassed and upset about her private song being the subject of gossip, so she decides to hide from everyone only for her crush to find her and reveal he has been "bewitched," by her...

Pairings - NRC Students x F!reader

Warnings - Gossip, Incredibly Shy Reader with Stage Fright, Depictions of Anxiety, Not Beta Read

Song - "Bewitched" by Laufey

Prologue (Here) - Heartsyble - Savannaclaw - Octavinelle - Scarabia - Pomefiore - Ignanhyde - Diasmonia

When @/thegreatestmagealive uploaded a video of the Ramshackle Perfect singing a love song, to say NRC nearly blew up would be an understatement.

The song, the poster titled “Bewitched,” became an instant hit across campus, but also became the source of tension as everyone was asking the same question: Who bewitched the Ramshackle Perfect?

“20 Thumbmarks on Leona!”

“15 on Kalim!”

“Kalim? Really, no it has to be Vil!”

“30 DOLLARS ON LORD MALLEUS!”

“EVERYONE HUSH! Now Francis, how much on Vil?” The Halls of NRC were filled with gossip on who the song was about. There were multiple pots floating around of people betting on who it was about, and just as many heated discussions.

“Who says it’s a housewarden? She spends most of her time with the Freshies so it has to be one of them! My money is on the Red Head on the Basketball team, he is always hanging on her!” A Scarabia student chimed in at this corner table of the Cafateria.

“Ace? He’s an ass, no it has to be Spade! Anytime someone makes a comment about he at practice, he gets all defensive.” A Heartstyble student on the track team chimed in.

“That runt? Na, he has nothing on Jack.” The Savannaclaw student across from them chimed in.

“The Wolf? He barely says any words! Besides, the Perfect has more class than that, it has to be Epel!” A Pomefoire Student retorted getting glares from the Savannaclaw student.

“All of you are wrong, I ran the data,” The Ignanhyde student pulled out his tablet and showed them a chart, “Out of all the possibilities crossed referenced with the lyrics of the song, it has to be-“

Debates across the school were happening as people discussed who she was singing for. While some advocated for others, others advocated for themselves.

That night, in the midst of the debates, a poor Grim was looking for a place to stay the night. So he went first to Heartstyble.

Grim walked through the portal and saw *chaos*.

“CAULDRON!”

“DEUCE WHAT THE HELL!”

“Calm down you two! No one is going anywhere till Riddle gets back!”

Trey helped Ace out from under the cauldron while Cater tried to calm down Deuce who was red as roses. “Yuu’s private song was just released and all you can think about it YOURSELF!” Deuce called out to Ace as he attempted to wesal himself out of Cater’s grip.

Ace dusted himself off as Trey helped him up, “Well, it is pretty obvious! Who else could it be about? You Loosey Duece? Or maybe Mr. Magicam? Chef Dad? Or maybe, our esteemed leader? No. It has to be me, so I am going to go check on her-“

Deuce tackled Ace, again, so Trey and Cater had to dive in to separate the two.

It did not take long for grim to realize it might be best to come back later. So he went back through the portal to try Savannaclaw.

But his scruff was grabbed before he could step through.

“Heeeey, Sealie!!” Grim gulped as he knew that voice all too well. Floyd turned Grim around so he was facing the two most terrifying smiles in NRC. “Mind clearing something up for Jade and I? See, he thinks Shrimpy’s song is about him, but I say its bout me. And every guppy is saying a different name, so we wanted to get info from them inside fishie~”

“W-what are you talking about!” Grim said crossing his arms. He knew he was in deeeeep dodo.

“Come now Grim, you must know who she’s singing about?” Jade said with a sonically smile on his face, “Now, as Yuu’s close friends, we just want to know, who bewitched our dear friend?”

“Yeeeaaah Sealie, who?” Floyd sung melodically.

“I-I ain’t saying anything!” Grim kept his mouth shut. He had already made Yuu mad, he didn’t want to make. It any worse.

“Oh come on Sealie! Everyone has a price! What’s yours??-“

“What are you two doing?” Came the harsh voice of Vil, Grim’s savior. The housewarden meeting must have finished. Early as all seven, yes even Malleus, came into the hall of mirrors to witness poor little grim shiver in his fur.

“Heya Beta!” Floyd said and waved Grim around, “We’re just asking Sealie a question! That’s all!”

“I’m guessing it’s about Yuu?” Azul asked as he made his way over to his Eel’s. “How is the Ramshackle Perfect? We missed her at the meeting.”

“Yuu… wellllllllll….” Grim scratched his cheek and the other housewarden’s came over, all wondering the same thing, “She is kinda sorta mad at me. And kinda sorta threw me out for ‘not respecting her privacy’ which I didn’t mean to get her upset, I just wanted to show everyone she had a pretty voice and she got all mad.”

“We’ll if you need a place to stay, Octavinelle is always open to poor souls! And I am sure we can work out a pi-“

“We all know what you want Azul, just ask him now so we can clear this up!” Leona said, clearly annoyed at the Mers underhanded methods. “Whose the song about?”

“I-I don-“

“Why are we even asking this question? It is clearly me!” Vil said shaking his head.

“What makes you so sure Schoenheit?” Malleus asked, “I spend more time with the Child of Man and have more magical prowess, it is defiantly about me. I was just about to grab her the-“

“No way the songs about you Lizard!” Leona retorted, “She clearly-“

“The Song’s about Nii-Chan! I ran the-“ Ortho chimed in with Idia listening in on his screen.

“WILL YOU ALL BE QUIET!” Riddle yelled, somehow getting the attention of the others, “This is disgraceful! You are. All concerned with your own selfish needs when you should be worrying about our fellow housewarden whose privacy has been breached and is probably distraught!”

Kalim nodded and said, “Yeah, we need to go cheer her up! Besides, it was probably just a song about love, nothing else!”

Grim sighed and added, “Oh its about someone, You she hear the other songs she wrote about him-“

“About WHO!” Everyone asked.

“I DON’T KNOW!” Grim said and got the glares of everyone.

Azul sighed and said, “You just said you knew.”

“I said I knew she has a crush and wrote more songs about him. I never said I knew WHO it was.” He crossed his arms and looked at the ground, “And she threw me out before I could ask. I tried going back in but she sounded so… upset. When I asked to come back in and apologized she said she just wanted to be alone…”

The group looked dejected at this. Floyd let Grim go and sighed, “Poor Shrimpy…”

Azul looked at Jade and Floyd, “Let’s go, Lounge won’t run itself.”

As Azul left with his Eels, Leona and Kalim also branched off their dorms, “Jamil is probably wondering where I am.”

“Yeah, I gotta make sure Savannaclaw is still in one piece.”

Vil and Ortho branched off next with Vil grumbling about wrinkles and Ortho talking to Idia.

Riddle and Malleus were the last two left with Grim.

“Grim, your welcome to stay at Heartstyble. It might help keep Ace and Deuce in.” Riddle said then looked to Malleus, “The Perfect probably needs a night, but if you do check on her, please let her know I-… We are here if she needs us.”

“I will Roseheart,” Malleus nodded to his red haired companion as he and Grim walk through the Heartstyble Mirror. Malleus turns and before he can make his way to Ramshackle, Lilia is there. All he has to do is shake his head and Malleus knows what his mentor is trying to say, she needs time alone.

The next morning, the first years go to Ramshackle to walk with Yuu to breakfast as they do every morning, but when they got their, the ghost intervened and said she needs to sleep in. The three ghost refused to let any of them enter and even brought Grim’s stuff to the door.

Yuu did not show to any of her classes or reply to any text, and all of her friends quickly understood why. Yuu’s song was all everyone was talking about, more specifically, who it was about. All the pots from the nights before had tripled and almost every students had a guess on who it was about. Yuu has never felt more embarrassed.

By the time night rolled around again, Yuu had read every text, post, and comment about her song. People were making guesses and demanding she confess who. In the midst of the chaos and rumors, all she could think about was what her crush was thinking. She had liked him as more than a friend for a while now, but had no clue if he returned the sentiment. All the worse possibilities were running through her head.. ‘He probably thinks I’m some obsessed freak, this is so embarrassing, Grim ruined. everything, there is no coming back from this. our friendship is ruined, I can never show my face at school again…” Thoughts like this combined with her stage fright made her mood worse. She wrote songs and sang them to help her work through things, it was incredibly personal for her and she never intended to share any of them, not yet at least. Now she was lying in her bed, curled up in her blankets with her phone lighting up with text next to her. She could not bring herself to talk to anyone, she was too scared and embarrassed to.

The Ghost have been kind enough to fend off Grim (who she was still mad at) and her friends (who she was still too embarrassed to see) so she could have some time alone. They worked as her guards and caretakers, making her eat and get up every now and then. They were also the only ones who knew who her songs were about.

So when he arrived on her doorstep, the ghost decided to let him in.

Yuu was looking at her notebook, pouring over the lyrics again and again when a knock came at her bedroom door.

“Yuu… can I come in?” His voice carried through the door.

Yuu felt her heart stop. She held her notebook tightly and sighed, “I guess its now or never…”

She got up from her bed, notebook in hand, and stood in front of the door. She was shaking and as she stared at the door, terrified of what would happen next, when he cast a spell over her once again:

“Yuu, I… I don’t. know if that song was about me but I want you to know. You’ve bewitched me too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: This is the Prolouge to a small series! Be on the look out for each characters part and if you want tagged please let me know! Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing more characters in this scenario or these characters in different scenarios, please let me know! (Do not Steal)

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flynnriderishot · 4 months

Note

You and Matt dancing in the kitchen and one of his brothers walks in without you guys realizing and he's all happy. Can you make it super cute and intimate too like foreheads touching and smiling the whole time UGH I WANT

here with me - m.s

a/n: i tried my best… hope you enjoy !

you hummed softly as you carefully placed the balled up cookie dough onto the tray.

you could hear matt behind you as he made what was meant to be hot chocolate.

it was late, but not too late in the night. you and your boyfriend were meant to go on a date while nick and chris were out with some friends. that all changed when, after dropping his brothers to their friends place, it began to rain heavily.

matt, being the type of person he is, immediately grew upset that he wouldn’t be able to take you out for your usual date night.

with quick thinking, you were able to convince him to have an indoor date that consisted of unlimited cookies, hot chocolate, movies and cuddles.

matt was hesitant, but seeing the pleading look in your eyes was enough to get him fully on board.

here with me by d4vd started playing, one of your favorite songs.

you could almost instantly feel matt’s eyes snap to you when the lyrics started playing.

I don't care how long it takes

As long as I'm with you

I've got a smile on my face

you smiled as you felt his arms slowly wrap around your waist, rocking your bodies side to side with the soft beat in the background.

no words needed to be said between the two of you as you turned in his arms, head resting gently against his chest as you swayed to the music.

matt mumbled the lyrics into your hair, eyes closed as he let himself mold against you,

“Watch the sunrise as we're getting old.”

you intertwined one of your hands with his, the other making its way around his neck to fiddle with the hair that rest there.

matt looked down at you, blue eyes boring into yours as he kissed the crown of your head so softly that you almost didn’t feel it.

you lifted your head, nose accidentally bumping his, leading to a short chuckle falling from your lips before matt purposefully hit his against yours. you lifted on your tip toes to press your lips against his.

“i love you so much.” he muttered to you.

“i love you more.” you whispered back, almost scared to ruin the serene moment.

“oh, that’s impossible.” he pouted playfully, spinning you around so you were facing the kitchen sink, your back against his chest, movements to the song never stopping.

•••

nick and chris had just gotten dropped off at home.

the two were rightfully concerned for the well-being of their brother. they had texted matt multiple times in hopes that he would answer and come get them.

on one hand, they were convinced that matt was upset that the rain ruined the date he had planned with you so he chose to ignore the world, and on the other, they assumed he was asleep.

fortunately and unfortunately, they were wrong.

they walked into the house, the only thing in mind was to find matt, ensure his safety and then scold him for ignoring their texts. the brothers were shocked to see him perfectly fine with you in his arms dancing.

chris gapped at the scene, going to speak only for nick’s hand to quickly cover his mouth. nick spoke with his eyes, not the chris understood what was being said.

the older of the two pulled his phone from his pocket, snapping a few pictures of the moment before ushering chris upstairs.

he could hear your phone ping with the text he’d just sent. maybe that would make matt feel better for your date not going as planned.

nick 🥸:

i’m jealous 🙄

#matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo

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alastor-simp · 3 months

Text

Special Guest🎙🎵 - Alastor x Singer Reader

Whoosh!~ A cool breeze was blowing, giving you goosebumps. Your body was sitting on the railing of your bedroom porch. Just one more inch and you would tumble down. You were gazing at the sky, admiring the crimson red and the black stared orb. Peaceful moments like this were relaxing to you, despite the mast amount of pollution in the air. Heaving a sigh, you continued to gaze at the stars, humming out a song. That humming eventually turned into lyric, and you sang them outloud to yourself:

🎵If you weren't born with it You can buy a couple ornaments Just be sure to read the warning, kids 'Cause pretty soon you'll be bored of it Sexual, hey girl if you wanna feel sexual You can always call up a professional They stick pins in you like a vegetable

Kids forever, kids forever Baby soft skin turns into leather Don't be dramatic it's only some plastic No one will love you if you're unattractive

Oh Mrs. Potato Head tell me Is it true that pain is beauty? Does a new face come with a warranty? Will a pretty face make it better? Oh Mr. Potato Head tell me How did you afford her surgery? Do you swear you'll stay forever Even if her face don't stay together Even if her face don't stay together...🎵

(Song/Lyrics Credit - "Mrs Potato Head" - Melanie Martinez)

As you continued to belt out the lyrics, an ominous shadow appeared behind you, watching you. Soon your song drew to an end. A sound of clapping hands appeared from behind you, making you yelp it fright. Turning your head back, you realized it was Alastor. He was smiling widely like a kid in a candy store. "Bravo, my dear!! What an amazing voice you have!" His feet carried him over to you, standing very close to the railing where you sat. Blushing, you casted your head down: "I'm not that good Al." Hands were placed on your face, pulling it back towards Al. "Don't be harsh on yourself, my dear! That was the best performance I have ever listened to! Why have you been hiding this secret from me?" Alastors hands continued to pinch your cheeks, his crimson eyes gazing at you with excitement. Pushing him back a bit, to leave your cheeks alone, you turned back towards the view. "I always had a fondness for music growing up. It was quite a shock to me when I realized that I could sing. I honestly suspected to sound like nails on a chalkboard when I first tried it out." Chuckling to yourself, you looked back at Al, who was laughing along with you at your explanation. "I imagined later on in my life I would make a career out of it, but I just never got around to doing it."

Alastor continued to gaze at your melancholic expression. He admired how passionate you were about singing. He himself adore music and he could sing as well. It pained him a bit that you never got to pursue your dreams. Leaning his body down, crossing his arms on the railing, he gazed at you, eyes flashing crimson. "Well I must say my dear, I'm already an instant fan! I wouldn't mind you showing off your talent during one of my broadcasts!" Almost falling off the railing in shock, you caught yourself. HE WANTED YOU TO SING DURING HIS RADIO BROADCASTS!!! "Y-you joking right?" Waiting for him to admit that he was joking. He laughed outloud. "Yes Indeedy! The wayward souls in hell would enjoy it very much, including myself!" His words were sincere, no distrust was spewing from his mouth. Twirling your hair with your finger, you looked down. "O-okay, if its alright with you." Alastor jumped back into his normal height, and wrapped his arm around your back, giving you a brief hug. "Excellent my dear! My broadcast starts at 11:00 AM, on the dot! Try to give some thought on what song you wish to perform. See you tomorrow, darling!" He was practically beaming, when he was talking to you. He soon disappeared, melding into a shadow.

It took you a bit to figure out what just happened. Alastor really wanted you to sing at his radio tower. You knew how much he valued his radio broadcasts, so you knew you needed to prepare yourself. Last thing you wanted was ruining the broadcast and upsetting Al. After that interaction with Al, you searched for what song you wanted to sing. Memorizing the lyrics and singing some parts out, making sure your vocal cords could handle it. You went to bed that night, nervous and excited for tomorrow.

**Tomorrow Morning, at 10:50 AM**

Sitting on a chair, you gazed around, taking in every little detail. Both you and Al were inside his radio tower, attached to the hotel. It was a cozy little studio. There was a giant window, looking down at the city. There was a desk and chair adorned with dear horns. A large stag head was mounted on the wall. On top of the large desk, was a set of microphones and buttons. Alastor was pressing a bunch of buttons, making sure everything was set for today's show. It still felt like a dream that you were in this situation right now. Maybe Alastor is a bit of a softie behind that evil radio demon status he holds. Settling down in his chair, he set his microphone cane in front of him, and adjusting yours at the same time. "Its showtime!" he says, smiling like the joker.

"Salutations! Ladies and Gentleman. What a good day to be on the air!" he started his introduction, causing you to smile. "Today's broadcast is a very special one indeed! Today I have a very talented sinner performing for all you people listening in! Allow me to introduce, Y/N!" His hand extended to you, like he was in a play. An applause soundtrack played as well. "U-um Hello everyone!" you stuttered in your speech, mentally cursing yourself for doing so. "HAHAHA! They are a little shy, but don't be fooled. They have a voice so incredible it will knock your socks off! Ready, my dear?" His eyes glanced over to you, making sure you were ok to start. Nodding yes, you took a deep breath, attempting to calm your nerves. Then you started to sing.

youtube

(Credit to Annapantsu. Check out her covers. Shes amazing!!!)

🎵Birds flying high You know how I feel Sun in the sky You know how I feel Breeze driftin' on by You know how I feel

It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me And I'm feeling good I'm feeling good

Fish in the sea You know how I feel River running free You know how I feel Blossom on a tree You know how I feel

It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life For me And I'm feeling good

Dragonfly out in the sun, you know what I mean, don't you know Butterflies all havin' fun, you know what I mean Sleep in peace when day is done, that's what I mean And this old world is a new world And a bold world For me For me

Stars when you shine You know how I feel Scent of the pine You know how I feel Oh, freedom is mine And I know how I feel

It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life

It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life It's a new life For me

And I'm feeling good I'm feeling good I feel so good I feel so good🎵

During your whole performance, Alastor was staring at you in shock. Your voice was heavenly!!! Not only did you sound spectacular, but you were singing his favorite genre of music, JAZZ!! Oh how delightful!!! Catching him staring at you, you gave a small wink. Radio screech! His heart starting beating out of his chest at your little action. Getting back into singing, you failed to notice the slight pink in his cheeks after you did that. Soon your performance came to end. "I hope you all enjoyed it." You said into the mic. Looking back at Alastor, you noticed he look slightly off. He was staring at you like a deer in headlights literally. Waving your hand in his face managed to alert him. "Heavens! What an amazing performance that was! Encore! Encore!" His radio staff began to play another applause, causing you to blush. "We will be right back! In the meantime, please enjoy this incredible song, Lets Misbehave by Irving Aaronson!" Alastor pressed a button, letting the song play, and also pressed another to mute his and your mic.

He didn't say a word after he did that. Oh no, did you mess up? He didn't appear upset when you were singing. Your thoughts were interrupted when a set of strong hands grabbed you. It took you a moment to realize that Alastor had brought you into a hug, a tight one at that. "Astonishing performance my dear! You did such an amazing job!!" His arms continued to squeeze you, rocking you back in forth in excitement. Giggling at his actions you returned his hug. The hug lasted longer then you suspected, especially knowing Alastors physical contact condition. "Um Al? You can let go now." Jumping at that, Alastor released you. "Y-yes my dear! Apologies! I had gotten overexcited!" You told him it was fine. Straightening his suit and fixing his hair, he looked back at you again. "Given that adorable smile on your face, I take it you are very satisfied as well!"

Smiling you nodded: "I admit I was very nervous in the beginning, but those feelings went away the minute I started singing. Thank you Alastor!" His eyes were tender, looking back at you. One of his hands grabbed yours, giving it a squeeze. "I'm glad my dear! Would you be opposed to becoming a part of my business? I would very much like to have you as partner during my shows! I can also put in a good word for Mimzy to have you perform at her club! What do you think?" His enthusiasm was exploding like fireworks, it was honestly adorable how giddy he was. Not even wasting a second to think, you squeezed his hand back. "Seems like we got a deal, Alastor!"

~END~

Tagging:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen , @aceofcards0-0 , @jyoongim , @saturnhas82moons , @unholycheesesnack, @luujjvi, @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah , @cookiekyo , @iiotic , @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie

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crabsnpersimmons · 3 months

Text

This one goes out to all the slow burn enjoyers, the dense Y/Ns, and the soft robo jesters that suffer in silence!

Inspired by @bamsara's “Solar Lunacy” fic.

If you feel like reading my ramblings and want to experience more heartbreak for fictional jester blorbos, check under the cut where I detail all the planning behind the frames!

so i heard this song for the first time in a while and the opening lyrics immediately made me think of moon, so i was daydreaming some scenes and then i decided to thumbnail some ideas:

and it all went downhill from there as everything became a metaphor and a parallel to each other, which i will now go into detail on!

you thought the animatic itself was sad?

*writing muse laughs maniacally* IT'S ALL A METAPHOR

Frame 1. "turn down the lights" We start with a back view on Moon. The lights are out, the Moon is out, but we do not see his face. The music and the greyscale atmosphere are enough to establish the weight of the moment and the weight on Moon’s mind.

Frame 2. "turn down the bed" We cut to a shot of Moon's body, kneeling on the ground of the daycare, like a padded cell. Moon’s hands are twitching with the effects of the glitch, with purple sparks coming from his hands. We still do not see his face.

Frame 3. "turn down these voices inside my head" Cut to an extreme close up on the dark half of Moon’s face. Now we see his face, but only a portion of it. His left eye is wide open, red and glitching out. The voices in his head can refer to the glitch but also his repressed feelings. Or maybe it could be Sun's voice in their shared headspace.

Frame 4. "lay down with me" Y/N's hand enters the frame from the upper right corner, lowering down to meet Moon where he kneels on the ground. Only a corner of Moon's face appears on the bottom left corner of the frame, his starry nightcap beginning to cover his glitched left eye.

Frame 5. "tell me no lies" An full shot of Moon on the floor and Y/N standing in front of him with their hand stretched towards him. A light spills out from behind Y/N, creating a boundary between them.

Now we see more of Moon. It is only when Y/N enters the frame—enters his world—that Moon’s body is shown in its entirely. When Y/N is here, he is no longer fragmented. He is whole.

Frame 6. "just hold me close" pspspspsps Playfully, Moon extends his own hand, beckoning Y/N to come closer, to join him. His right hand crossed over his body as he uses the playful gesture to hide his true feelings—to put distance between him and Y/N. His hat continues to cover his glitching left eye. He doesn’t want to worry Y/N.

Frame 7. "don't patronize" In response, Y/N’s hand pats Moon on the head, returning his playfulness. Moon looks surprised by the action. Moon, notably, does not lower his hand—perhaps he has forgotten it or perhaps his invitation is still open.

Frames 8-9. "don't patronize me" Moon rotates his faceplate so Y/N’s hand is touching the side of his faceplate, a more intimate gesture than a head pat. However, his hat is in the way. At this angle, his starry nightcap fully covers his glitchy eye and the dark side of his face, hiding his defect and acting as a veil between him and Y/N. A self-imposed boundary. So close, yet thinly separated. It's better this way. It's safer this way.

The lyrics are broken up by Y/N's arm, both to illustrate how the song is sung ("patronize" is drawn out and "me" is briefly added in before the chorus starts) but also to show how Y/N interrupts Moon's resolve, highlighting the irony between the visuals and the lyrics. Demanding not to be patronized, yet Moon happily accepts this play at intimacy. Don't patronize me, I am weak for it.

This is also the only instance where the red light of Moon's eyes glow and tint the surfaces around it. Visually, it makes it look like Moon is blushing (heavily inspired by @restinsodaroni's art). But also, in this moment of honesty, Moon's intrinsic light spills out, colouring the greyscale world. In this brief moment of honesty, Moon touches the world with his own colours, his own light.

(and this is also where i forgot to clean up the shading on Y/N's arm, but it's okay it doesn't need to be perfect it simply needs to be. And Moon will still love Y/N even if they are a continuity error.)

Frame 10. "'cause I can't make you love me if you don't" A parallel to a frame 4, Y/N retrieves their hand away and immediately Moon is reduced to the corner of his faceplate in the frame. Only now his glitched eye is fully covered by his hat.

The lyrics here (and in the next frame) in particular grow lighter to emphasize Moon's diminishing resolve and agency.

From here on out, the lyrics here are broken up, carrying on this theme of fragmentation. Y/N is pulling away, Moon is breaking up, the words are breaking up. Everything is coming apart.

Frame 11. "you can't make your heart feel something it won't" Y/N turns to leave. The lyrics, broken up as before, highlight the irony of the situation. Y/N, a human, can’t feel something they simply don’t feel. Whereas, Moon, the machine, feels something his code never intended him to feel.

Frame 12. "here in the dark in these final hours" Another full shot that parallels frame 5, as Y/N steps towards the light and Moon leans forward into the space Y/N once occupied. Y/N is leaving—that which makes him whole is leaving. And he is only capable of making it to the boundary where the light cuts into the darkness. The "final hours" suggest it might be the end of Y/N’s shift, or perhaps this scene takes place right before the glitch takes over—the final hours that Y/N has with the true Moon. Either way, time is running out—and only Moon knows it.

There is a contrasting display of body language here. Moon is on the floor leaning towards Y/N with his hand still left out. Whereas Y/N is turned away, walking away, and has already slipped their hand away and into their pocket. Y/N is closed off while Moon is limply open. Y/N is actively moving while Moon is on the floor, waiting, hoping, for that which he lacks the agency to reach for himself.

Frame 13. "I will lay down my heart" A close up on Moon’s hand, rising up again, perhaps to beckon Y/N back once more. This is a slight parallel to Y/N's hand reaching out to Moon. While Y/N can freely reach out and touch Moon, Moon cannot. He can't enter the light and more importantly he can't risk potentially harming his relationship with Y/N—be it through the glitch or by his feelings. He can only lay down his heart—put aside his feelings or hope that someone will pick up his pieces and make him whole.

Frame 14. "and I'll feel the power" Still on a close up on Moon’s hand, now clenched in slightly. This initially was going to have the glitch effects. However, I felt it more meaningful for it to be left without. Leave it up for interpretation why Moon pauses his hand. What is the power that he alone feels and stays his hand?

Frame 15. "but you won't, no, you won't" A parallel to frame 1, a view of on Moon's back with his hand stretched out towards the light, and Y/N walking into the light spilling through the open daycare door.

The placement of the lyrics suggest two different “you won’t”—Y/N who won’t realize Moon’s feelings, and Moon who won’t dare speak them into reality.

Another note on the parallel to frame 1, this time we also see Y/N's back, but it is notably different from our view of Moon's back. With Moon, we literally see inside him through the hole for his loop. However, Y/N is shrouded in shadow, just a solid, obscure silhouette against the bright light of a world Moon—and Sun for that matter—are closed off from. We don’t see into Y/N, just as the Daycare Attendant doesn't have any vantage point of Y/N's life beyond their time at the PizzaPlex. (The unfortunate reality of a being a character made for the purpose of being a vessel for the reader.)

Frame 16. "'cause I can't make you love me" We finally cut to face Moon head-on, frozen in place with his hand stretched out, unable to cross the boundary into the light. His eyes have gone dark. Where we began by seeing bits and parts of Moon, and never seeing his full face—now we, the viewer, see the full Moon, open and vulnerable—unbeknownst to Y/N.

Frame 17. "if you don't" But in the dark, behind closed doors, there is no one to perceive him—no one to receive him. The light dwindles as the daycare doors are closed. Moon stays frozen where he kneels. It is no longer the glitch that plagues him, but a far deeper dread.

But a lone streak of light peaks through the gap in the daycare doors. Perhaps that is just enough. A silver lining. A frail hope. A single, ethereal thread out of darkness and into light.

Thanks for reading and watching!

We'll be back to our regularly scheduled fun and games shortly!

#fnaf moon #fnaf dca #dca fandom #so this idea had me by the throat ever since I heard this song again #I've never done an animatic before but I wanted to give it a shot #the opening lyrics already reminded me of moon right off the bat #but then i kept listening and started thumbnailing some frames #it was actually the frames with moon receiving the head pat and turning his faceplate that convinced me i had to do this lol #the sweetest images resulted in this work of angst #thank you if you read all this!#i promise to post something cute soon to balance things out #and no promises but i will say the second verse of the song is PERFECT for sun #“morning will come and I'll do what's right just give me 'till then to give up this fight” /lyrics #hahaha it hurts :')#crab art #traditional art #digital art #traditionally inked and digitally coloured #animatic

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love-belle · 8 months

Text

light as a feather !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which she writes a song and finds love again while he finds himself facing the consequences of his actions.

for when the right person is right around the corner. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // lando norris x fem!ex!reader // charles leclerc x fem!reader (implied)

sequel - you got me thinking nonsense ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language, mention of cock once, sex jokes (???)

author's note - might make a part 2 idkk but i hope u like this <3 thank u sm for reading!!!! alsoooo im gonna start a taglist so if ur interested PLEASE let me know <3

taglist - @marsdreamworld @1nt3rnetgf

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by y/nupdates, f1paddockgossip, y/nsteponme and 79,628 others

popnews y/n y/l/n and lando norris called it quits after almost a year of being together. this news came after y/l/n flew out to see him during the dutch grand prix and left the very next day, not attending the race. "it was very sudden, neither of them saw it coming," sources close to the pair commented. "they were together for a year and it was getting very real and that scared lando. he just felt like the relationship had run its course and wasn't going anywhere." this proved to be kind of confusing and controversial as not even a week after their break up, norris was spotted with a girl out on a "date". for more details, visit the link in our bio.

2,528 comments

username say sike rn

username WHAT THE FUCK.

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-> username like brother those are the things u realise after the first few dates not a YEAR wtf

username i feel so bad for y/n like i know my girl gave it her all

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username praying for lando bc y/n is everyone's fav on grid

-> username man's definitely tasting gravel the next race

-> username it's gonna be charles to push him off i can see it 🙏🙏🙏

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 3,772,415 others

yourusername feather out everywhere lol have fun with this one <3

tagged landonorris

28,628 comments

username TOO MUCH GOING ON I NEED TO SCREAM

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charles_leclerc so good 😘

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-> username fr like 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

taylorswift so proud 🤧🩷

-> yourusername i love u mom

username the silence is LOUD

username nah bro fumbled HARD

username NAHHH NOT THE TAG OH MY GOD

username i absolutely LOVE this song but im not gonna lie i miss lando and y/n SO bad like i wanted what they had 💔💔💔💔💔💔

-> username no bc i need to go back to their in love era

username lando norris is having a breakdown over this as we talk

carlossainz55 on repeat 😍

*liked by yourusername*

username someone PLEASE hand the mic to lando i need to hear what he has to say about this

username never make a singer mad at u bc they WILL write a song about u

*liked by yourusername*

alex_albon absolutely iconic

-> yourusername thank u lily's bf 🪿

username no bc i was expecting more of a heartbreak song but THIS??????

username cleared him

username he must be soooo embarrassed like how r u gonna go ahead and say that u lost HER

username mother ate

username she always serves cunt

luisinhaoliveira99 pretty girl cool song 💌

-> yourusername angel ❤️‍🩹

-> username OH MY GOD

-> username i did not see this coming

-> username PLEASE the duo i didn't know i needed

-> username lando is somewhere pulling at his hair

-> username love it when people (y/n and luisinha) unite to destroy their common enemy (lando)

≡;- ꒰ twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lilymhe, oliviarodrigo, charles_leclerc and 2,628,825 others

yourusername floatin through the memories like wtv (photo creds to charles_leclerc who annoyed me until i agreed to post these)

15,527 comments

username OH MY GOD

username THE DRESS THE EVERYTHING HER

username my lord she has served cunt once again

-> username as expected

username im so bi like

alex_albon oh how i LOVE being a woman

-> yourusername alex wtf

-> alex_albon LILY POSTED THAT I DIDN'T OMG

-> yourusername sure

-> username ALEX LMFOAOAOAO

username CHARLES AND HER OMG

username im HERE for charles and her like yes pls

username the dress is soooooo pretty like 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

-> username fr like how did charles not pass out from behind the camera

-> charles_leclerc trust me, i was so close

-> username NAH THIS MAN HAS TO BE STOPPED

-> username im giggling and that wasn't even directed at me

username the prettiest 🫶🏼🫶🏼

carla.brocker miss my girl so much u look like an angel 🩷🫶🏼

-> yourusername miss u so bad i love u 💕🍧

username she's so pretty oh my god

username pretty beautiful ethereal breathtaking hot angelic gorgeous cute heavenly stunning ravishing divine graceful alluring elegant

username js say the word y/n i can bark ☺️

luisinhaoliveira99 pretty girl 🫶🏼

-> yourusername i love u 🫶🏼

-> username i love them sm

-> username no bc this will always be iconic

username i NEED charles and y/n to get together like rn

username SHE'S SO ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username ate so hard and left no crumbs

charles_leclerc 😍😍😍😍😍

-> yourusername 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

charles_leclerc too good to be gatekept

-> yourusername ok who the fuck taught u what gatekept means

-> charles_leclerc alex

-> yourusername stay away from my man alex_albon

-> alex_albon your man 😏

-> charles_leclerc 😏😏😏😏😏

-> yourusername i hate both of u

charles_leclerc does this mean you're my girl?

-> yourusername not if ur gonna be cocky like this

-> alex_albon oh he is gonna be COCKy alrightttt

-> charles_leclerc i mean...

-> yourusername JAIL BOTH OF U

-> username oh they definitely together or something

-> username nah they're fs dating

username y/n just one chance pls

username my pronouns are she not her bc i'll NEVER be her

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 975,327 others

landonorris talking shit ain't gonna do a thing

11,628 comments

username says YOU

username lando babe go on do it log out and never log in again

username alr that's enough being silly for today

username dw guys he was just feeling a lil silly 🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪😝😝😝😝😝🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

username no words

carlossainz55 listen to your own advice, brother.

-> username damn he even used proper punctuation and all

username hahahahaha 😐😐😐😐😐 SOOOO hilarious 😐😐😐😐😐

username stfu

username "talking shit" my brother she literally just wrote a song destroying u and connected with ur ex and got a f1 driver who was ur friend up in her dms and posted a few shady captions what r u on abt.

-> username y'all my girl did no wrong he had this coming for cheating

charles_leclerc lol

-> username out of everything everyone has commented this is by far the most scariest one

-> username u know u have done fucked up with charles comments "lol"

username love how the comments are just bullying lando 🫶🏼

alex_albon LMFAOAOAOAO

-> username PLEASEEE ALEX

-> username forever in love with him he's my babygirl

username love how protective the drivers are of y/n ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username m*n need to go back to war fr

maxverstappen1 cannot wait to see you on track this week.

-> username i have a feeling lando's gonna kiss the barriers this sunday 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔

username anyway stream feather by y/n 🫶🏼

username LOVE to see the grid calling him out

-> username fr like gag him

lewishamilton nice joke. never joke again.

-> username no bc if i got called out by THE lewis hamilton i will just never show my face ever again

-> username right like how is he not embarrassed

username no bc if i lost someone like y/n bc i was a fucking idiot and then my best friend rizzed her up i would just simply Pass Away like that's a level of embarrassment i CANNOT take

lilymhe didn't you cheat on her 😂😂😂😂😂

-> username NOT LILY CONFIRMING THAT

-> username nah he deserves everyone calling him out lando wtf

username lily u will always be famous

maxfewtrell don't make me apply for a new roommate

-> username PLEASE MAX

-> username just a very good example as to why u should NEVER EVER EVER EVER cheat on ANYONE bc u will end up like lando on the internet

username y/n bout to swing back on him i can feel it

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by luisinhaoliveira99, carlossainz55, sebastianvettel and 2,262,826

yourusername i hit ignore

17,528 comments

username PLEASE

username she's too iconic i fear

username I LOVE HER SHE'S SO UNSERIOUS

username no bc u know shit is real when seb is here

username i love how luisinha and y/n are like best friends now

-> username the most iconic pair EVER

*liked by luisinhaoliveira99 and yourusername*

danielricciardo baby-you was so swag

-> yourusername i know

-> danielricciardo what happened now

-> yourusername wOW

username she was such a vibe-y child i love that

username this is so MESSY and im here for every second of it

username her using her own lyrics like mother 🙏🙏🙏

username i would get on my knees for y/n and y/n only

username serves cunt again and again

charles_leclerc smash that ignore button and while you're at it, i sent you flowers 🥰

-> yourusername omg they're so prettyyy i love them ☹️❤️

-> username PEOPLE WE'VE UPGRADED TO RED HEART

-> username white heart to red heart we love to see it

username no bc what i don't get is how he's gonna break up with her after a YEAR of being together bc lil bitch boy got scared of commitment and then turn around and allegedly cheat on her and then say u talking shit like NO SHUT THE FUCK UP we got a banger song and an iconic duo with the bad bitches u fumbled and i get a chance to see charles FINALLY make a move on his godforsaken crush

-> yourusername that was so intense and im trying to process it all but U GO BABY I LOVE UUUUU

-> luisinhaoliveira99 spoke facts

username love the comments are just charles and y/n, luisinha and y/n and anti l*ndo ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username im sooo here for this let's fucking go

alex_albon i would've been best friends with baby-you ngl

-> yourusername we're literally best friends what the fuck r u about

-> alex_albon no you're just an unfortunate addition to my life because my gf loves you

-> yourusername yeah she loves me MORE than u so go cry abt it

-> lilymhe true 🫶🏼

-> alex_albon wow

username the day charles and y/n (IT WILL HAPPEN) get together will be the day i can finally rest in peace

username the silence from l*ndo's side is DEAFENING

3K notes · View notes

blue-jisungs · 9 months

Note

heyy girlypop 😘

can i request a skz and how/what partner privilege they give you?? 😍

partner privilege ♡

a/n. girlypop😭😭😭😭😭 will do 🤞 sorry for such a long wait bestie 🤧

i wrote something similar with svt if anyone is interested ^_^

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

everyone, including you, thought that whenever chan has a song idea or has written lyrics he shows it to the boys first. whether 3racha or felix or the others if they’re nearby. only then the producers and then you. but one day, after chan gave you a new song to listen, you were sitting in the kitchen and reading a book. han and changbin walked in, chatting about something. subconsciously you listened to the convo, which happened to be about the song. “yeah, i wonder what it’s like. or if he used the thing i told him about” han nodded and you rose your head. “oh the adlibs? the song is a banger, i’m sure stays will love it” you hummed and sent them a smile. “how do you know how it sounds?” changbin asked. “chan let me listen to it… am i the first one? i thought you were–“ you halted. “and we thought we were first–“ han mumbled, dialling chan’s number. blush crept at your cheeks, a sudden feeling of butterflies in your stomach. were you always the first listener…?

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

“hey, we’re back–!” felix hummed and was met with your quiet shh! looking at chan in surprise, they walked closer and noticed minho napping on your lap, quiet snores leaving his mouth. you were caressing his hair gently, giving them a silent warning to be quiet. “oh wow. first time in years i see this man asleep on someone else” chan grunted and they went to unpack the groceries. you continued running your fingers through his hair, warmth spreading across your heart. minho is truly like a cat; only falling asleep on a person he fully trusts and loves wholeheartedly.

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

you pop into the room, peaking your head and seeing your boyfriend engrossed in a lively discussion. “hey, binnie, ready to go?” you ask, drawing attention. he smiled wildly and proudly, standing up with a ‘sure, let’s go’. that causes hyunjin to gasp dramatically and jeongin side eye seungmin. “you literally told us your car just broke” seungmin murmurs and you frown. “well, whatever y/n wants, she gets. which includes rides” he chirps happily and drags you out before they start shouting. “you told them your car broke?” you laugh as he opens the door for you. changbin just winks and points at the aux. “shhh. you can play some music” he grins and hopes they don’t see it from the dorm window. because they’re absolutely not allowed to touch anything in the car.

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

hyunjin stops in his tracks once you kneel down and start tying your shoelaces. “oh, you don’t have to” you mumbled, looking up and smiling at him. your boyfriend shakes his head and mirrors your smile, kneeling down too. “how could i not?” he hums and waits for you to finish. changbin turns around once he realises he didn’t hear hyunjin’s laughter in a while and gasps. noticing you two are far behind, he grunts: “he never waits for me when i tie my shoes”. once you’re done, he stands up with you and grabs your hand, swinging it back and forth dramatically. jeongin suddenly kneels and ties his shoe… only for hyunjin to pass him by, chuckling. changbin sighs as if to say “see, this is what i meant”.

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

“no, go away!” you’re met with jisung’s growl when you enter the room. lino pouts and leans away, rolling his eyes. they greet you, han’s mouth stuffed with food. you smile and sit next to them. after he’s chewed, he pokes your cheeks. “hi baby, how was your day?” han asks and slaps lino’s hand that made its way to his bento box. “it’s was decent. i missed you” you hum and peek at his lunchbox. it looks delicious, with the fried rice and chicken and– “you want some?”. you nod shyly and in no time han gives you it, along with a pair of chopsticks. minho gasps, punching jisung’s arm. “i’ve been begging you for a bite for half an hour and you–! hmpf” minho grunts and waddles away, offended. “ignore him. if you want, you can finish it. it’s delicious, isn’t it?” your boyfriend asks and laughs when you nod energetically. eyes staring at you lovingly when you take another bite, han smiles.

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

han walked into the room, letting out the loudest gasp ever. you turned around slowly, still busy with chewing the apple. both of you frowning, shock on your faces. “what?” you ask and han rushes to you, trying to push you off the chair. “are you crazy?! felix doesn’t allow anyone to touch his gaming set! get off or he’ll kill you like he tried to choke me when i touched his computer for a split second–“ jisung panics and you just shove the apple slice into his mouth to silence him. “he allows me to play on his set, though? look, here’s a house i built in the sims!” you chirp and show them the building, leaving han speechless and with flashbacks of the pure purge once felix found out one of them even tried thinking about logging into his account…

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

chan sighs heavily and passes you in the hallway. you give minho a questioning look but he just shrugs, returning to his phone. you plop down on the couch, next to your boyfriend when a sudden gasp rips from your lips. “dang, i forgot to take my phone” you grunt and are about to stand up when seungmin places a hand on your thigh, standing up himself. “i’ll get it for you, i was on my way to kitchen either way. do you want something cold to drink too?” he asks softly and you send him a wild grin, nodding. seungmin startes at you lovingly and off he goes. chan comes back and sits at his place, mumbling something underneath his breath… “of course he’ll get y/n’s phone but when i ask him, suddenly he’s asleep”. a blush creeps on your face, minho giggling at chan’s misfortune.

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

“–and then he proceeded to slap my arm because i just borrowed his hoodie!” chan whined, crossing his arms. you laugh softly, patting his arm. “no, don’t worry. it’s nothing personal” you hum and see a text notification from your boyfriend announcing that he’ll be there in a second. chan looks at you, almost hugging a thanks when his eyes widen. “isn’t that his hoodie though? and his… shoes? and the cap too?!” he gasps. “yeah! he allows me to wear his clothes…? i didn’t want to say anything because you’d feel bad but…” you stopped once i.n entered the room. before chan starts to argue, jeongin simply reasons: because they look better on you than on chan.

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @mirxzii ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang,, @nfrgirl

3K notes · View notes

herseraphwings · 3 months

Text

18+ A Glimpse Into The Most Intense Sexual Encounter Of Your Lifetime😈💦🍆🍑

It's been months & I had to step away from Tumblr to focus on business! I'm sorry to those who took the poll and didn't get the readings! Here is a steamy pick a card to make up for it. Hopefully I can contribute more pick a pile's to this side of Tumblr more consistently now!

All original works posted on this platform are copyrighted. Unauthorized use or reproduction without permission is prohibited. This pick a pile/image/card is meant to give you an idea of what the most steamy and intense sexual encounter of your life will be. This encounter could be at any point! Enjoy!

Minors DNI!!

✨This will be a creative writing pick a card✨

Pile #1

Your Song: Love Is Stronger Than Pride - Sade

Prime Lyric: “I can’t hate you, though I have tried.”

It's a shame this is happening here.

The cold of the marble countertop against your exposed skin sends quivers up your spine and frissons of blessed goosebumps across the curve of your rear. A warm but equally gentle and rough hand cups your derriere while twin digits grip your jawline. Timeless lips suckle at your needy neck as you draw in unsteady breaths, grasping at the walls to support the arch of your back. Thick, honeyed lust pools lower and lower with the current of your strong but fluttering heart, drawing your thighs together like aching soft magnets. Just a few minutes ago, there was gnashing of teeth and an attempted divergence witnessed by the Gods as a spectacled exchange of bitter thoughts raised like christened knives against your throats.

It was the supposed last stand. The conclusion of your story, where you're completely, utterly, officially separated.

But as you both faced off on your war-torn battlefront for the last time, you were ambushed. Your armageddon was due to rear its ugly head and place the four horsemen of pride, betrayal, uncertainty, and, sadly enough, money issues on all sides of your connection. But surprisingly, those demons watched from up high. For the Devil always has a trick up its sleeve. This isn't the first time you've launched into battle and escaped bloodied. But it is the first time the warzone has turned sanctuary- nestling you, cuts, bruises, and all to its tempting bosom.

What better way to fight than to fuck?

Now, your limbs are entangled while you paw at each other, vulnerable and mutilated by past sins in the bathroom of a mutual acquaintance. Hands you caressed and caressed a million lives over now grab you with need. A need for understanding. Atonement. Rehabilitation. A need to strip you even more bare than their painful words could leave you because it's you. It's always been you. You're the one that chips at their inescapable pride.

You do this to them- challenge them to be better and tear them down to be much worse when they've failed you.

Heady kisses trace down your neck to your collarbone, all the way down, planting seeds of love; another could never hope to see bear tempering fruit like they could, down to where the heat of all you could ever want and need rests eagerly within the cage of your thighs. "

“Open your legs.”, They look up to you and whisper; their voice tickling you with vibratory lust.

As you part, you feel teasing nips and pecks mark your sensitive skin with seductive swirling licks to echo, shifting deeper to the core of your desire until a pleasant moan escapes you.

You're not sure if you'll leave your tryst hand in hand or even on the same accord, but you at least know one thing. You both can rip profound emotions out of the other- deep from the marrow. Day or night. Spring or fall. You won't worry if that's a good or bad thing for now because as they beckon your climax to greet them at the edge of their greatest weapon against you, the past pain loses its power.

Every precise movement of their tongue is like perfect jolts of electricity through your body. Fuck they know you so fucking well.

Their soft lips and hums of pleasure in pleasuring you are where the true power lies. The sensual dance of their fingers strokes at your sweet spot, but the sudden rustle of the door knob snaps you back to reality. Shit! You shouldn't be doing this here. Before you allow sense to overshadow the moment,the heat builds as your moans grow more intense. You're grateful for the ruckus on the other side of the wall. You sense them smirk beneath you and lock eyes with an individual who is determined to pluck at the strings of your desire until they're taught, and muffled screams rain down on them in a frenzied zenith. Passerby be damned. Once they've drunk enough of you, you'll be ready to return the favor with equal vigor.

This moment is a storm. Just like your love. A great and terrible storm. Strong enough to tear through villages of memories built on the foundations of a long connection. And just like you have weathered many before as enemies and lovers, these moments provide enough energy to brace yourselves for inclement weather.

The soul beneath you loves you harder as you writhe, faster, stronger until your beautiful climax hits you like a truck.

It's such a fucking shame this is happening here.

You see red. Are you back on the battlefield?

The Devil rises slowly to lay a peck at your ear and whispers, "There's a thin line between love and hate."

Notes:

This person is may come off as moody or too passionate for others. You have been together for a while at the time of this experience.

At the time of your encounter they are struggling with money.

You are separated, but attempt to find common ground at a social event

This may be the direct doing of a friend.

I don’t subscribe to the concept of twin flames personally, but this person may truly be your twin flame.

Your relationship with them at the time may be so deep that any little act that may harm the other can blow up to extremes because the feelings run too deep. There’s so much passion!

Thank you for allowing me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 1!✨ Follow for more readings like this!

Pile #2

Your Song: Hours - FKA Twigs

Prime Lyric “ Who’d have thought, I’d be in your mouth, loud and clear?

I once read that the best love stories are the ones that start with two people who can't stand each other.

At the time, I thought it a stretch of fictitious delusion. Understand me, Rosaline. I've had my fair share of entertainment from the comedic tropes I've watched on my various screens and read in books, but that's because the hands that pressed pen to paper or finger to keyboard behind the scenes knew how to write a good story.

There is power in prose.

We can all agree that the prodigal hate fuck always satisfies an audience. But that's not real to me.

How you eclipse the moonlight of the bedroom window to stand naked before me as the birth of Aphrodite itself is real to me. It's more vivid than any lucid dream or waking hallucination I could conjure in my insanity for you. How you languidly stalk towards the edge of the bed and make prey of me as your supple breasts softly and teasingly bounce is real to me.

I've never known anyone to be so graceful as they lower themselves to their knees.

The throbbing ache of anticipation you draw out of me as your hands open the gate of my thighs, and your beautiful face rests at the threshold of me is real to me. That first gasp-inducing sweet lick followed by the sacred scent of your hair penetrating my nostrils is intoxicating. And, the taste of me on your lips as you pause to greet me before you take me to church is so enchantingly real.

Why? Because the most striking and tangible things of this world aren't isolated to what we can experience with the five senses. It's the things that shake us, move us, change us, and stir something profound within us that is true. We don't even have to understand the why at first.

And oh, how you stir the most primal and obsessive urges within me.

I raise a quivering hand to caress your crown as you lick, nip, and tease my most erogenous areas, but you smack my hand away in a warning. Your eyes pierce mine, and you remind me that you are untouchable.

You remain as unattainable as the day I met you.

In the beginning, that side of you was cruel. You were so severe. So chaste. A person who seemed to constantly move the goalpost as I chased and chased. Our story was an epic on the destructive nature of gravity. I wanted to be your orange moon as your sunlight cast down upon me, but your pull always threatened to consume and scorch me if I dared to neighbor you. Your glares were like ice, and your mouth spat fire at anything that had something to do with me. It must have been something that I said. But I was no child, and neither were you. We cut the bullshit and found the necessary 60 seconds to get clarity.

Now, we're very clear on one another. Our vision is 20/20, and God, if you aren't magnificent. The noises you make as your tongue continues its assault on me are provocative, eliciting moans from the bottom of my throat while my eyes roll back and my hips writhe beneath you. Vibrations emanate from your lips as you moan in response to how you undo me, slurping and licking at me deeper and faster to build on your high. Your hands grip me tighter, locking onto the soft of my thighs, not because you need to hold me down but because you want to anchor yourself. The sensual masochist in you knows how badly you want to slowly snake your hand down to feel the wet heat of your trembling cunt- but she won't let you.

It's the idea that someone like me would beg for the opportunity to just lay beneath and watch you as you gave yourself the depraved release you will forever deserve that drives your lust. In these moments, I'm the one lucky fool under your spell who gets to have a taste of you, but only under your rules.

That is why tonight is extra special because I agreed to let you do everything that you wanted to do to and or on me, and to be honest, your fantasies are not as wild as you think.

As my climax overtakes me, I gaze back down at you and admire your work.

You may see me as a fool, but I am a victor.

The same person that insulted me, frowned at me and rejected me is the same person that now in a delicious turn of events

has my cock down their throat.

Notes:

This person is someone that may have chased you or made you chase them

You both misunderstood each other and miscommunicated frequently, for some to the point that you couldn’t stand each other.

Rosaline is the original apple of Romeo’s eye. She made a vow that prevented her from marrying so she is seen as unattainable and the cause of Romeo’s strife before he lays eyes on Juliet.

For some this night of pleasure is after you have a moment of realization and see that you both actually vibe really well.

You may choose to secretly scurry off to get to know each other better, or end up having this night of passion after you deepen your commitment or get married.

You or this person could be in a situation where one has already promised themselves to someone else, but you both have a last minute moment of truth and choose to secretly give in to your desires without getting caught.

This is a slightly kinky pile

On this night you may be exploring water sports. I see a woman squirting over their partner or their partner asking to watch them squirt or pee into a glass

I see nipple play

Similar to pile one, there is an edge of not being seen or organizing a secret rendezvous.

I feel like it’s the more feminine person with the Rosaline energy, they may come off as bitchy or have severe resting bitch face, but the surprise is that they are the more kinky person.

They love your breasts, but get lustful when they see your opening.

Thank you for letting me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 2!✨Follow for more readings like this!

Your Song: Seventh - BOSCO

Prime Lyric: “Giving you permission as I'm breathing, Finger on the trigger, now we reset, Here to hide, Will we die? No.”

It's such a beautiful day. Your limbs are tangled in mine as we rest peacefully under the shade of a lone tree before the chapel courtyard. Your beautiful head against my chest gently anchors me to the grass as you listen to the rhythm of my heartbeat. I gaze into the blue sky, contemplating the recipe of cool teals, turquoise, and sapphires God chose to bundle the earth. Sometimes, I wonder why God still allows us to roam this beautiful garden of Eden we call our planet. Maybe it knows that after falling so painfully hard, there really is nowhere to go but up. Or, at least in my case, look up.

It's so quiet that you can hear the trickle of a nearby stream. As I look around, everything seems so vivid. Each blade of grass and round tree leaf is a more lively green and rustles so clearly against the gentle currents of air caressing our cheeks- that my spirit can't help but reach toward the surface of an all-encompassing consciousness. The sky, the leaves, the air, and the stream are alive- as alive as I am right here with you. I can see it now. Is this what it's like to be high?

How could I not be after what we just did? Even though the ceremony was intimate, I was nervous that one of our friends or family found it and somehow turned up at the last moment.

You shift your hand to draw feathered circles on my chest and snap me out of my musings. You look up at me with a mischievously giddy smile and trace me lower and lower until you reach the hem of my pants, pulling teasingly at the elasticity. I arch my brow in surprise, looking for signs of the clergy. It would be a disaster if one were to stumble across us on their holy walk to find you performing the most unholy of acts. My eyes scan the clearing. I gather myself on my forearms and take a peek back. You're also looking around, but those naughty eyes flash with an undercurrent of different intentions. I would have missed it if I hadn't known you so well.

You want to get caught.

My quick scan tells me that we're alone. But you're already gripping me, slender fingers wrapped tightly around velvet steel, ready to receive your touch. You stroke me firmly and languidly as the clouds pass by overhead, and my eager tip moistens with salty essence. I won't let you pull too many moans out of me. We don't know who may be listening despite another quick look around. It feels like I'm floating in a blessed eternity as you touch me until the chapel bell rings unexpectedly. We rush to compose ourselves- one more than the other. You giggle as I try to thrust myself back under my pants and hide my shame before we embarrassingly cross paths with someone on our walk back to the car. I don't return the sentiment.

It was a bad idea anyway. If the Universe is alive and God is real, that must have been a warning. A sort of "Congratulations, but do it in private."

I know when to listen to divine intervention. I won't allow us to suffer judgment because of your lack of self-control. So I will become a mascareri and punish you myself.

I want you to think you crossed a line during the car ride back. That our perfect day may not be so perfect after all. You got too impulsive- too excited. So you start entertaining regrets. It's a little cruel, but you'll forgive me later.

A few hours post your voyeuristic episode, we're diving into champagne and wine bottles. You begged me to pop one open in the spirit of celebration, but we both knew you wanted to flood the nerves in your body with libations. But your consumption of liquor is a double-edged sword.

Three, four, five glasses down and you're swimming. Your cheeks are a luscious plump shade of rose, your skin is warm to the touch, and your feet are too light or maybe too heavy because you stumble across the floor and fall into my arms. I open a window to let the night cool you down. I'm still nursing my first glass, so I trust myself to securely hoist my bride into my arms and lay her tenderly onto the mattress. Your arms lock behind my neck, and I meet the longing in your big, beautiful eyes. You search me for emotion. Anything that would reveal the current truth of my inner world, but I keep my mask on.

You wanted to give the Universe a show today. So let's give it one.

I'll tear the clothing off your body so roughly that cool night air will douse your heated skin with prickles of goosebumps. You won't have time to gasp at my movements because I'll already capture your beautiful mouth with my own- my strong body pressing yours into the mattress of our lover's nest. You will squirm in need, but that won't be enough for me. I need you to whimper, to whine, and mold your begging hips so close to mine as I caress slowly, achingly, down toward heaven. I'll cup my hand at the pearly gate and watch your troubled face as you wait what feels like a millennia until you crack from desperation to feel more of me.

But there is a warning in my eyes you have never seen before. Something that tells you that this is different. It grips you into submission, a sense of fear and excitement battling within. You've never experienced me treat you like anything other than an angel. Until now, I would never have allowed you to fall. But now I truly have you.

ALL OF YOU.

Tonight, you will discover that when angels fall, the devil is there to catch them.

After our week of heavenly sin in our temporary Garden of Eden, we can deal with the backlash that awaits us.

Notes:

-This is the person you will marry or at least form a deep commitment with.

-At the time of the sexual encounter, you are trying to eagerly move the commitment forward formally, but you're seeking help to try and make it happen.

-Like looking for an officiant or going through pre-marriage counseling.

-However, you are feeling a little confused and lost or at least frustrated at the situation because things are proving to require more work.

-This may be because other parties are trying to but in with their opinion.

-You feel like you are meant to be with this person. Or you could have already done the deed, and need to break it to your friends and family.

Thank you for letting me the honor to read/write for you, Pile 3!✨ Follow for more readings like this!

#pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #pick an image #pac tarot #pick a picture #tarot #free tarot #18+ content #love reading #love tarot reading

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feyascorner · 4 months

Text

3 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. You hate him, you think. You want to hate him, at the very least.

“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asks, his expression indecipherable. “I didn’t realize the great savior of the city could be afraid of a mere vampire spawn.”

“You did try to strangle me last time we spoke."

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard, large chunks of italicized texts are flashbacks

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. redemption arc is coming i swear :) this is a whopping 4.7k i got kinda carried away but oh well,, Thank you so much for your comments on these they make my day and i appreciate each one<3

Dance upon the stars tonight

Smile and pain will fade away

“And what might our dear bard be working so passionately on?”

You look up from your notebook, ceasing the messy scribbling of lyrics into its tattered pages. Astarion perches himself beside you, the flames of the campfire flickering in the reflection of his eyes as you stop humming and raise a cautious brow. A vampire spawn. You’d never seen one in person–-only had you heard of them in your childhood tales of the spawn that would sweep away naughty children if they didn’t finish their vegetables. Up close, you can almost see his fangs protruding from the grin he's constantly wearing.

You wonder if it’s a genuine one.

“That bard at the grove today,” you recall. “Alfira? I’m trying to finish the lyrics and write them out for her.”

“Is that so? Surely you’re receiving some sort of payment for these gracious services?”

You train your eyes back onto the pages, shaking your head. “I’m doing this for fun. Her song is beautiful. It just needs—” you squint. “--adjustment.”

He laughs, and you can see the fangs clearly now. They’re sharper than you expected them to be. “I believe that’s a drastic understatement, my dear. My heart felt for those poor squirrels. I’m quite willing to bet that they have an aversion to bards now.”

“And you’re suddenly a musician yourself?”

“It doesn’t take a musician to recognize poor singing, darling Tav,” he returns. “And considering I’ve spent the past few days listening to your music, I’m sure you’ll understand why I considered it such an abomination.”

You narrow your eyes. “I thought you didn’t like me–or my music.”

“You? I'm still deciding,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes. “But I must say that I’m growing rather fond of that lyre of yours. Have you had it for long?”

You give him a sidelong glance before answering slowly. “I’ve had it for ages. Practically when I just started.”

“Explains itself then, I suppose.”

“And you?” you watch as he leans back on his palms. “Do you have any other talents to offer to our companions, or is it just your teeth?”

“Now, don’t be so cruel, dear,” he smiles wider. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re rather fond of them as well. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring all the time.”

“I’m on guard,” you clarify.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You’re not sure if you can sleep with one eye open, much less both of them closed. You’re not sure if you trust him at all, either, but as he stares up at the starry sky, simply listening to the crackling of the campfire, you decide you’d rather save yourself the energy for what awaits tomorrow.

“Why did you do that earlier?” you find yourself asking, and he replies by glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Do what?”

“Save Wyll from that goblin arrow,” you mumble. “I thought you didn't care about any of us.”

“And what gives you that impression?”

You deadpan, staring at him with lidded eyes and he laughs out loud. It sounds more genuine than anything else he’s offered so far. It's nice.

“It’s a simple transaction, dear. One where I receive protection in turn for the occasional aid I can give with my own blade.”

You squint at him, but you see no signs of deception. So instead, you simply nod and resume scribbling into your notebook, softly humming to yourself alongside the lyrics. And when you halt, stuck on a particular lyric that you can’t seem to remember, you hear him shift, standing himself back up to retreat to his tent.

“Something about faith and care comes next if my memory serves,” is all he says before striding away. While you watch him in confusion, you click your tongue and try to focus again. And when you look down at your page, you remember the rest of the words.

Somehow, you feel the corners of your lips lift.

“As much as I’d love for this to be a charming, long-awaited reunion, one of the parties imposes a danger to the other.”

You wince at the sarcasm dripping from Gale’s voice. Duke Ravengard’s expression remains solemn, unmoving like a stone, while your companion pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “We can’t harbor a vampire spawn in our home. We’re supposed to be finding them, not keeping them!”

You hate the irony of the statement because the camp you’d spent so many months in with an uninvited guest in your head, had also been your home. One where you spent your nights in a vampire spawn’s tent. It’s not so different, you keep telling yourself. But you’re painfully aware that the Duke only knows a sugar-coated version of the falling out between you and said vampire. He doesn’t know how his son had to tear Astarion away from you and how your voice had been sore for weeks afterward.

“As much as I have my own opinions with allying with a vampire spawn,” the Duke stares at Astarion warningly. “Wyll did say this spawn saved his life while your party ventured together. For that, I'm willing to see reason if he’s cooperative, rather than restrain him with the Fists.”

You never thought much of it until now. With how many life threatening experiences you and your companions had come across, it felt natural to save one another. At first, it had been out of necessity—fear that one person would turn into an illithid. Yet, with time, you'd all grown fond of each other, one way or another.

You think back to when Astarion had saved Wyll and wonder if that part of him is still in there. Maybe it was never there at all. Maybe it had been another one of his manipulation tactics that you're so prone to falling for.

Gods, you're hopeless.

The wizard standing beside you sighs irritably. “But that was before he tried to squeeze the life out of-”

“How long do we need to keep him?”

Gale balks at your words. “You can’t seriously be considering this.”

“Just until we’re able to locate the rest of the spawns spread throughout the city, which you kindly decided not to mention in our last conversation.”

You shoot Gale a glare, silently questioning if he’d been the one to confess the existence of the spawns underground, but he’s too busy scanning over Astarion, who’s mindlessly fidgeting with his knife. The said spawn seems to feel your gaze, because he glances at you, then grins.

The bastard is smiling.

“The man you killed this morning is a spawn himself, yes?” the Duke clarifies. “There have been numerous reports the past few days about strange figures with fangs throughout the city—I’d known they’d existed, but to the numbers that are being reported…”

“You couldn’t have possibly believed myself to be the only spawn around?” Astarion laughs bitterly. “I do not wish to go hungry, Duke, but I don’t need nearly as many bodies that’s been showing up—assuming that I did drink from anyone, of course.”

Ravengard ignores him, speaking as if he’s not there. “I could still have him detained if that is what you wish. We can continue as we have and search for the spawn without his help.”

You know it’s a fruitless effort if last night has told you anything.

“You don’t even have evidence that I drank from a single person in this entire bloody city!” Astarion spits back, rolling his neck in exasperation.

“No,” you purse your lips, finally looking up. “I’ll be responsible for him.”

Gale clears his throat alarmingly. “Now, dear leader, let’s have a private conversation before we make any hasty decisions, yes? Surely, we don’t have to decide right this moment.”

And while you open your mouth to respond that no, you won’t have Astarion rot away in some gross cell, the Duke nods. “Very well.”

Gale pushes you to the corner of the room, with his face clearly paling in disbelief. “Please tell me you’re joking. You want someone who nearly strangled you to death sleeping in the room next to yours?”

“Ravengard wants us to find out where the other spawn are hiding, and the only lead we have is sitting right there,” you defend yourself. “Throwing Astarion into a dirty cell won’t do anything to convince him to help us.”

“The Duke doesn’t know what he did to you!”

“He doesn’t need to. Astarion’s made it very clear he’s not going to spill any information if the Duke is the one asking, and we need a lead. I nearly died last night, Gale. I want to avoid that if I can.”

His eyes soften just a bit, but it’s enough. With a loud sigh, he scrunches his nose. “And you’re sure you’re not doing this for more personal reasons?”

At this, you pause. Your eyes waver, and the look Gale gives you is almost soul-crushing if it weren’t for the fact that you feel like you’ve already hit rock bottom. You know this is not a good idea. You know that being so close to him again after so many months is not a good idea, especially when you’ve just finally begun your journey to forget him.

You curse the gods above for your luck.

The silence prompts Gale to speak. “I’ll tell the Duke we can’t involve ourselves in this.”

“Gale,” your voice almost cracks. “Please.”

He doesn’t want to agree, you can tell. Any sane person wouldn’t invite a bloodthirsty vampire spawn who’s willing to use his own hands to kill his so-called lover into their home. You want to think that you’re void of bias, but you know it’s a pathetic attempt to reassure yourself. Still, the expression on your face must be quite the sight because Gale takes one look, glances at Astarion, then slumps his shoulders. You’ve won.

You hadn’t even realized the door had been swung open, where your other companions had been standing, taking one look at Astarion then to you. While Gale wallows in his own defeat, you turn to the others, eyes glimmering with a kind of hope that they haven’t seen in months.

“Your judgment’s gotten us this far,” Shadowheart sighs. “We’d be fools not to trust it now.”

Lae’zel clicks her tongue. “My blade is ready to slit his throat if need be. Just command me, and I shall.”

“We aren’t going to try to kill him," you retort.

“It’s only right to return the favor."

Dinner is awkward. You’re finally getting to try Gale’s stew, but it’s hard to focus on the taste when all you can feel is the searing stare of the person sitting across from you. He only has a goblet of crimson liquid in the same shade as his eyes in front of him, and it remains untouched as he takes in the rest of the house.

“So,” Gale offers. “What have you been up to?”

It’s not much, but it’s better than sitting in complete silence.

“Wandering the streets at night, mostly. Oh, and murdering half the city, apparently,” Astarion lets out his usual high-pitched laugh at the end, and your fingers tighten around your spoon. Shadowheart glares at him through her lashes, and you think she may lunge at him any second. You want to think you wouldn't stop her.

You feel for her, really. Being the group’s cleric comes with its advantages but also with the unspoken burden of watching your companions in pain. She’d been the one to ensure Astarion hadn’t left long-lasting damage to your throat. She’d been the one to soothe your headaches and cast a sleeping spell on you in hopes it’ll allow you to rest longer than just a few hours. She’d also seen you nearly bleed out multiple times, one of which occurred mere hours ago.

The sudden scrape of Lae’zel’s chair being pushed back catches your attention. She stands, lifting her bowl with her. “The air here is suffocating. Sort out your differences before I sort them out for you.”

The rest of you collectively nod. She doesn’t say anything else before leaving the room.

“The room at the end of the hallway upstairs is yours,” Shadowheart says finally. “Don’t bother me if you need anything else.”

She stands up as well, leaving her bowl in the sink before pacing up the stairs to her own quarters.

Somehow, the atmosphere is even worse now. You don’t dare lift your eyes from your stew, and you honestly hope it explodes before you have to sit here and drink all of it in this silence. Gale, thankfully, does not leave. Instead, he sets down his utensil.

“I suggest we have a set of rules in place–for the sake of everyone occupying this home,” he clears his throat. You shoot him a questioning look, which he dusts off.

“Fine,” Astarion leans back in his chair, now swirling the goblet of blood in his hand. “What do you have in mind?”

“No drinking. From anyone here.”

You blink a few times, then hear Astarion hum in acknowledgment. “Shame. Though your blood was vile anyway.”

“And don’t cause any trouble. One of us will go with you when you need to drink, so you can hunt for whatever animal you prefer these days. Otherwise, unless we say so, you’ll remain here.”

“Why, this sounds almost identical to a prison. Looking for a job as a warden, Gale? A midlife crisis, perhaps. Does wizard life not suit you anymore?”

“It suits me plenty, thanks,” Gale snorts. “We’ll be out during the day to rebuild the city, so you’ll have to entertain yourself in your own room. Don’t touch anything—especially my stuff.”

Astarion grins. “That almost sounds like an invitation.”

The wizard then turns to you. “And you? Do you have any other rules you’d like to add?”

You finally lift your head from the stew, looking back and forth between the two before shaking your head while pushing your chair back. For someone who’d imagined aimlessly for months about seeing your former lover again, you can’t seem to look him in the eye for fear of what you might feel. “I’m going out.”

“I’m going to take that as a no.”

Wordlessly, you pace toward the door, refusing to look back to suppress the urge to sprint back into his arms. You don’t know what you were thinking just a few hours ago, but this was not going to end well. If you couldn’t manage a simple dinner sitting across from him, what could you manage?

You’re in such a rush that you forget to bring anything besides your wallet.

By the time you’re on your way back to the house hours later, you have a backpack shoved full of fabrics with nails and a hammer to go along with it. As you pass by the taverns, you hear music playing from inside, alongside a few cheers and what you can only assume to be a crash of chairs as people applaud.

You can’t help but peer through the window as you walk past, where a bard merrily plays on his drum, lightening the mood of the entire tavern—even the bartender smiles along as he plays tunes you’ve heard a million times before. And while your hands itch for a lyre—to feel the string snap against your fingertips—you know no good will come of it. You’ll only sit before the instrument, your hands unable to find the emotions to exert in the form of notes.

As you stare at the bard, you remind yourself you’ve long given up on that kind of life.

So instead, you continue your way to the Highberry’s home. When you knock on the door, a very weary Cora Highberry greets you with bags under her eyes, but a calm smile still stretching on her lips nonetheless. She steps out of the way, inviting you in, and you do so.

“You didn’t have to, dear,” she says as she takes a bag of the city’s finest fruits from your hands. “The neighbors have been oh so gracious to us. They’re helping the children so much, I couldn’t possibly ask for more.”

“I was just passing by, that’s all,” you offer. “I wanted to check on you since I left a bit abruptly last time.”

“Oh, dear, you know how to make a woman feel special. It’s been terrible, really. I haven’t gone so long with my husband in ages…” she laughs, wiping at her swollen eyes. “But we were an old couple anyways…I had some time to prepare my emotions. I just didn’t think he’d go like that.”

You nod as she hands you a mug of hot tea. “But never mind that. I’ve spent the past two weeks talking about nothing but myself, so I’m quite tired. What about you, dear?”

“Me?”

“You look like death themselves,” she frowns. “I’ve lived for quite long…I recognize that heartbroken face anywhere. Has something happened?”

The way she’s staring at you—it’s different than pity. You can’t quite identify it, but she smiles again. It’s not the kind of smile most people give you—not one of anticpation, not one of gratefulness, but just a regular, old smile. And it makes your shoulders untense just the slightest before they tense again. You take a swig of the tea, nearly burning your throat in the process as you set the mug down, splitting a pathetic smile. “No, I’m okay. Just--tired.”

Very, very tired. Not physically, no, but tired of the indecisiveness that is your heart.

Her face falls softly. “How troubling it must be to have the weight of the city on your shoulders."

Before you can answer, there’s a loud thud upstairs. She notices your alarm and shakes her head. “Ah, must be Berry. She’s one of the younger children, and she’s been taking my husband’s death quite hard. Please excuse me, dear. I need to go put her back to sleep.”

And with that, you’re left alone on the first floor of the building again. You contemplate staying to say your farewells but the cries from upstairs convince you otherwise. Taking one last swig from the mug, you gather your things and leave.

When you get back home, it’s well into the night, an hour or two after midnight, you’d think. None of the lights are on, so the first thing you do is light a candle when you step through the door, dropping your backpack onto the dining room table. Dunking all your materials out, you take the hammer and start your work.

There’s something soothing about the darkness outside, with the way nothing seems to exist besides you and your own thoughts in a city that overflows with a sense of community. You try not to think about the man most likely reading in his room just a floor above you and focus on hanging the fabrics in front of all of the windows. The cloths are mismatched in color, and your hammer work is nothing more than sufficient, but it’ll do for now. At least until you can get actual curtains installed.

You worry that some of the fabrics aren’t thick enough to absorb all the sunlight, so you layer another fabric on top of it until you’re sure that even your candlelight cannot be seen from outside. Why you’re going so far for him, you do not know. You prefer to assure yourself that you need him to help stop the spawn from devouring the entire city, but even in your own thoughts, it sounds like a lie.

You wonder if he cares nearly as much as you do. He probably doesn’t.

You hate him, you think for the millionth time today. You want to, at the very least.

You flinch when a splinter in the wooden wall splits your skin open, forming a drop of blood on your index finger. Curse the heavens above, nothing was going right today. You quickly reach for a towel but nearly jump when you hear his voice from the stairs.

“You really need to stop with that habit of yours.”

You spin around, and he’s already at the foot of the stairs, reaching to grab a towel from the kitchen. But you’re faster, snatching it away and pressing it over your hand while he raises both his own, imitating a surrender of getting any closer. You can’t look at him in the eye—you don’t want to either. “What habit?”

“You’re speaking to me now?” he raises a brow, and you turn away again after shooting him a glare. “I’d thought you’d avoid me forever—scurrying off like a squirrel whenever I step into the room.”

You should avoid him forever. But the words don’t reach your tongue, and you choose to ignore him.

He doesn’t budge. “I meant bleeding around me.”

“What?”

“Every time I see you, you always seem to be bleeding.”

You frown at him. “Maybe you just prefer being around me when I’m bleeding.”

“You might be right." You think maybe he’s done with this painfully awkward conversation until you see him staring at the windows covered with random pieces of fabric, and suddenly, you feel embarrassment creep up your skin. You realize how bizarre your actions must appear in someone else’s eyes, staying up to the break of dawn so that he’ll be able to traverse someplace outside the confines of his own room…

It might make him think you care, and the worst part is that a part of you does.

“I hope you don’t expect me to thank you, darling.”

The nickname feels like a stab to your heart, haunting, even, but you do your best to brush it off.

“For what?” you manage to force out through clenched teeth.

“The cell they would’ve thrown me into is nothing different from trapping me in that room, I’m afraid,” he laughs bitterly, and you want to crawl into a hole from how cold his voice sounds. Distant. Like how he’d sounded the day you found him next to his nautiloid pod. “But I suppose I should be grateful for having a bed instead of having to spend my days rotting away on the dirty floor?”

You bite your bottom lip, brows furrowing. “I don't expect anything from you.”

But you do. Not quite an expectation, but a lingering wish that maybe you can heal. It's pathetic, even in your own eyes and surely everyone else's, but you can't be bothered to care.

It pisses you off a bit. How he seems perfectly unfazed while you continue to drown in your own feelings.

“Are you just here to taunt me, or is there a reason for this conversation?” you snap. This is not quite how you wanted your reunion to go.

He raises a brow. “Taunt you? I'm only answering questions you're afraid to ask.”

“I don't need to know anything about you,” you grit through your teeth. “You left my mind the second you abandoned us.”

What a poor, wishful lie.

“Ha!” It doesn't really sound like a laugh—more a scoff of disbelief. It's like he knows what you're thinking, and for a split second, it feels like there's a tadpole in your head again. “Of course you think I'm the villain of your precious heroic tale! Honestly darling, the irony just writes itself.”

You fight the urge to scowl, but you're not sure if you're successful. You find yourself gripping onto the towel harder, teeth clenched as your chest tightens just hearing his words. You truly hate that he seems to care less than you—it’s like he's not even taking you seriously.

And that damned nickname.

It feels like talking to the Astarion you first met—one who’s only intentions were to use you—but this time, you don't think it’s a mask. He doesn't want anything more from you. Only your own suffering from taking the power that would have made him untouchable.

“So tell me, dear, do you wish for me to grovel at your feet?”

Your eyes widen, and the term of endearment that once made your cheeks flush only makes you feel sick. “What?”

“Do you expect me to drop to my knees, begging for your forgiveness?” he says again, eerily composed while you struggle to come up with words. “Perhaps I would have if we were still staying in that camp. Put on a show, even."

You frown, setting your hammer down on the counter. “I’ve never made you grovel. I’ve never made you do anything.”

“Maybe not directly, no, you’re too kind of a soul to do so,” there’s venom lacing the words that feel nothing short of a lie. Somehow, he’s still smiling. “Instead, you made me beg for your help. You accepted—made it feel like I had a choice. Then tore it away just the same, in the cruelest way possible. Impressive, really. I didn't expect such dramatic sins from you.”

The way he looks at you, words dripping with sarcasm, makes you want to melt into the floor, ceasing to exist as a whole. But alas, you continue standing like a deer in headlights, unsure of how to respond. You look down to see the towel stained with your blood and inhale deeply, watching the dark sky lighten with daybreak through the window. “The sun’s rising.”

His smile drops, something foreign flickering in his eyes. He suddenly steps toward you, and as soon as he gets within two feet, you find yourself stepping backward, your fingers tightening around the hammer. You have no idea if you'd even be able to use it, but it's better than digging your nails into your palms.

It doesn't go unnoticed.

“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asks, his expression indecipherable. “I didn’t realize the great savior of the city could be afraid of a mere vampire spawn.”

You don't want to think he'd truly kill you. Not really, but your mind flashes back to the look in his eyes when he had his hands wrapped around your lifeline, and you grip the hammer tighter, heartbeat pounding impossibly fast.

“You did try to strangle me last time we spoke,” you mutter.

His lip twitches, and he steps back bitterly. You feel like you can breathe again.“Ah, yes, that.”

You swear your stomach drops to your feet at the mere suggestion he’d forgotten what haunts your nightmares every night, forcing you to lurch from your rest in a cold sweat, hands shaking, and having nobody to turn to for comfort. He couldn't be that cruel…could he? You want to scream at him, punch him, kick him, tell him he’s not being fair. You want to defend yourself, say that all you’ve ever wanted was for him to be safe, but even that feels like too much when he’s giving you so little.

“Very well, I’ll indulge you,” he grins again. You realize your time is running out, the sun beginning to peer out from the horizon. “Why did you assume responsibility for me? I can’t imagine why you’d want such a terrible foe in your life living right next door of your own sanctuary.”

For the city, you tell yourself. For Cora's husband and the poor victims drained off their life, all alone in the darkest corners of Baldur's Gate. “...I didn’t do it for you.”

He searches your face for something, his eyes narrowing. He's waiting for you to continue, but there's no more fuel in the tank, and now you just want to sleep for a very long time. You assume he comes up empty when the corners of his lips fall, and he turns to climb up the stairs. Sunlight hits your back as your eyes trail him in his steps, and it does nothing to warm how cold it feels in the room.

“That much I’m aware,” he stops his steps for a brief moment. You barely catch it, but it's there. “Terribly aware.”

And when he finally leaves, you bury your face into your hands.

"I'm nervous."

"What for?"

"What if the ascension goes wrong? Are you sure we should really be doing this, Astarion?"

He brushes your hair out of your face, cupping both your cheeks in his hands. "We'll be okay, my love. I will still be here, and so will you. I'll just finally have enough power to protect what I care about."

He sees the hesitance in your eyes and leans his forehead against yours. You melt into his touch, placing your hands atop his.

"So please, stand beside me for this," he pleads.

And despite the way your intuition screams at you otherwise, despite the way your very being begs you to pull away, you nod, sealing your fate.

"I'll be right here."

Tags:@ayselluna @littleenglishfangirl @bg3obsessedsideblog @iwillpissyourpants @cyberpr1m3 @ukeia-uchiha @snowlotr @road-riot @spacekidnova @madislayyy @lordfishflakes @nicalysm @djarinsway @tinystarfishgalaxy @brainz00 @hopeful-n-sad @ohdeerieme @madisban @chrismarium @chonkercatto Please let me know if I didn't add you to the list or if you'd like to be added!

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3 #angst with a happy ending #angst #gale of waterdeep #shadowheart

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wonillaa · 11 months

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driver vs passenger princess with enhypen

note this is very much inspired by woniebabe on tiktok bc i have been thinking abt this for so long and saw their post and it was like fate

heeseung is already jumping in the passenger seat before you can even get to the car … drink in one hand and his phone in the other on aux. “by the way you were supposed to turn there”

* gasps and grabs your thigh when a song he likes comes on (he chose it)

* keeps a box in the back with snacks he likes and feeds you while you drive

* pays you back by agreeing to get your gas when you drive 🤗

* knows the directions to every place ever

jay never lets you drive, claims its his duties as your boyfriend. lets you play whatever music you want but complains immediately whenever it gets too cold or too hot

* uses his horn more than he should, road rage personified i fear

* keeps tampons/pads and pain killers in the back if you have a period </3

* tries to show off by steering with his knee and accidentally swerves into the other lane

* every drive is karaoke, windows down both of you screaming the lyrics

jake starts off driving you around and asks more and more to be the passenger, “you’re just so good at it you know” and you both know he’s lying and hates driving

* points out every dog he sees

* buys you cute decorations for your car and air fresheners

* hand on your thigh at all times, plays the music so loud it’s embarrassing

* takes pictures and videos of you especially if you’re wearing sunglasses, he thinks you’re so cute 😓

sunghoon looooves driving you around meanwhile he is a danger behind the wheel, but he refuses to let you drive and argues that he’s never gotten in an accident so it’s fine

* likes to honk at people right when the light turns green, thinks he’s so funny

* speeds around corners and runs over curbs

* loves surprising you by pulling into your favorite coffee place and gets you treats

* shushes you if you talk over his favorite part in a song

you and sunoo have made an agreement that he drives if its dark but all other weather conditions are on you, he thinks night driving is relaxing he loves it

* prefers being a passenger so he can stare out the window and point things out to you

* you have a 24hour playlist you made together you shuffle every time

* when he drives he’ll hit potholes or slam on his breaks accidentally and just glance at you trying to not laugh and how your head just slammed against your window

* sunoo just reminds me of roadtrips so much and you two have each others gas station orders memorized

jungwon prefers driving but will let you decide, loves saying weeeeee on curves and gives people a thumbs down when they pass him

* big fan of cruise control and rants on how useful it is

* always gets you gas and washes your car for you

* randomly shows up by your house and texts you to come out because he’s bored

* very safe very good driver 🙏 you are in good hands

niki is nothing if not a passenger princess, cannot sit still either he goes from laying down with the ac blasting to dancing with the windows down

* do not even ask him to give you directions because he’ll read the map completely wrong and just laugh as you make the wrong turn and say “oopsie”

* asks to get snacks and says he’ll pay for it next time bc he definitely purposely forgot his wallet

* reaches over and honks at cars for you if they almost hit you “don’t get embarrassed he almost killed us!!”

* you two make so many car vlogs on post them on tiktok

* he is so spoiled and he deserves all of it 😔

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serafilms · 5 months

Text

song 7! jelly pop (boys planet) + percy jackson (the lyrics are lowkey so embarrassing i can’t lie,,, fire song though please hear me out) (2023 spotify wrapped event)

baby, i’m your jelly, like sugar, it melts into your heart, wow

As you peppered kisses all over his face, Percy couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

You hummed happily as you pressed another kiss to his cheek, “Nothing. Just love you.”

Percy blushed, and accepted the rest of your kisses as his hands gripped your waist. The both of you were snuggled against each other on the floor of the Poseidon cabin, leaning on the side of his bed. You weren’t actually in the bed, just in case someone were to barge in and makes a big deal out what looked like a compromising position.

You liked being like this: close to him. You could smell the salt and something grainy as you pressed your nose to his neck. Percy Jackson smelled like the sea.

Percy grinned down at you and brought his hands up to your cheeks. He lifted your face out of the crook of his neck and looked into your eyes, feeling something tickle his heart. He laughed at your squished face and decided it was his turn to kiss it, pressing quick ones to both your cheeks before kissing your lips.

You gave out another happy hum as your hands shifted from his shoulders to clasp together at the back of his neck.

Despite the ocean scent that surrounded him constantly, Percy always tasted sweet. You weren't sure yet if it was an amalgamation of all the blue cupcakes, blue cherry cola, and strawberries, or just because he was, in fact, the sweetest guy ever.

Even after you'd pulled away, you couldn't help but lean in for more quick kisses to his lips. The taste was addictive, and you felt it seeping into your body, as if he was pouring melted candy all over your heart.

Percy accepted them happily, and looked a little disappointed when you'd finally had enough and sat back to stare at him for a second.

He blinked at you. "What?"

"Have you eaten any desserts today?"

"No?"

"No fruit or sugary drinks?"

"No," Percy said, looking increasingly confused.

"Then why do you taste so sweet?"

He stared at your face for a second, taking in how dead serious it was, before he started laughing. "What?"

"Don't try and dodge the question here, Perseus," you scolded, pointing your finger at him accusingly. He only laughed harder.

"Sorry, babe," Percy said between giggles, "Just caught me off guard there."

You threw your hands up in exasperation as your boyfriend tried to calm down. "Seriously, though. You always taste like– like.... jelly."

His eyes still twinkled with mirth but he looked at you as if entertaining your idea seriously. "Like what kind of jelly?"

"What do you mean 'what kind of jelly?'"

"Is it blue?"

"Well, how would I know? It's your mouth? I don't see any blue."

Percy's hands drifted onto your waist again. "How about I give you another kiss so you can figure it out, then?"

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the smile that fought its way onto your lips. "Calm down there, soldier."

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then slowly made his way down to your jawline and across to the corner of your mouth. You felt your stomach flutter and your resolved crumble as you whined, "Percy, I'm serious here. I want to know."

"Okay, okay," he said, eyes still locked on your lips, "we'll figure it out tomorrow, alright? I promise. It'll be our next big mystery."

"You mean after the one where you disappeared off the face of the Earth for six months?"

"I didn't disappear off the face of the Earth," he huffed, "I was in New Rome."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." You grinned. "Okay, the next big mystery it is."

Percy grinned and kissed you again. Oh well, your questions could wait. Percy Jackson was your jelly tasting weirdo, and he wasn't going anywhere.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson imagines #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #written works !#2023 Spotify wrapped event !

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sweetcherryharry · 3 months

Text

Begin Again — 04

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N had a secret relationship for almost two years, until they broke up. A year later, she shows up at one of his Love On Tour shows.

(masterlist)

There he stood, right in front of her, a smile playing on his lips as their gazes met. Y/N felt a rush of emotions, a mix of surprise, nostalgia, and an underlying current of something more profound. The unspoken words of their past seemed to linger in the air between them.

Harry, with his soft brown curls and a simple white shirt paired with jeans and worn-out vans, looked like a page from a memory that she had been trying to forget. Yet, as he stood there, the year they hadn’t seen each other melted away, and they found themselves suspended in a moment that defied time; it seemed like the past months never happened.

The Love Band's living room, with its soft lighting and the faint melody of Fleetwood Mac in the background, turned into a cozy space where only the current moment held importance, at least for Y/N and Harry.

"Hi, sunflower," he replied, the words carrying a weight that transcended the casual greeting. The endearment was a throwback to the days when Harry used to affectionately call her by that sweet nickname, a reminder of their time together.

To Y/N, hearing it from him sounded bittersweet, like the echoes of a melody that brought both the joy of nostalgia and the ache of what they were once.

As Harry spoke, his heart seemed to beat in his chest like the rhythm of a familiar song. In awe of her presence, he couldn't help but marvel at the woman she was. The way her eyes sparkled, the slight curve of her lips as she smiled – it was a sight he had missed more than he realized.

In that suspended moment, their gazes held a conversation that words struggled to capture. Without a word, Y/N found herself stepping forward, drawn by an instinct that transcended logic. Harry, as if guided by the same unspoken force, opened his arms, a silent invitation.

As they embraced, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the comforting warmth of each other's presence. The hug felt like coming home after a long journey, a familiar haven that resonated with shared laughter, whispered secrets, and the soft melody of their intertwined past.

For a moment, the cozy living room encapsulated the essence of what they used to be – a refuge where their souls met without pretense. The faint scent of Harry's cologne, the gentle rise and fall of their shared breaths, all contributed to the sanctuary of the embrace.

However, as they lingered in the hug, reality began to reassert itself. The made-up living room, once an intimate haven, became a stage where the complexity of their emotions played out. They reluctantly pulled away, a mutual understanding passing between them. The connection was undeniable, but so was the need for boundaries.

"I loved the show, Harry, you did amazing," Y/N said, a soft smile on her lips as she attempted to bridge the transition from the warmth of the hug to the safer ground of friendship. "I love the new album, too."

Harry's eyes crinkled at the corners, appreciating her genuine compliment. "Thanks, Y/N. It means a lot coming from you."

In his mind, he couldn't help but think that she was the muse behind the songs, wondering if she realized the entire album was dedicated to her. The melodies and lyrics, born from their shared experiences, whispered a silent acknowledgment of the impact she had on his creative journey.

"I can see how much you've all grown as a band," Y/N continued, her gaze drifting to the people surrounding them, all engaging in conversation between them, trying to give the couple a little privacy. "The Love Band has really evolved, and it's inspiring."

Harry nodded, a humble gratitude in his response. "We've put a lot of heart into it. It's been quite a journey."

"Speaking of journeys, these are my best friends, Natalie and Maia," Y/N chimed in, a playful glint in her eye, pointing towards the two girls that stood a few meters away. "Let me present you to them; they're fans, just like me." She joked, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the playful introduction.

Both Harry and Y/N walked towards them, and as they neared, Natalie and Maia exchanged excited glances, their smiles widening at the sight of the acclaimed musician in their midst.

"Harry, these are my best friends, Natalie and Maia," Y/N chimed in, a playful glint in her eye, gesturing towards the two girls who stood now close to the pair. "Natalie and Maia, this is Harry."

Harry offered a warm smile, extending his hand to each of them. "Nice to meet you both."

Natalie and Maia, both trying to contain their excitement —understanding that he was also their friend’s ex-boyfriend— shook his hand enthusiastically, exchanging introductions with genuine joy. "Nice to meet you Harry, we enjoyed the show so much," Natalie admitted.

Y/N, sensing the formal atmosphere, playfully rolled her eyes. "Okay, you two, you can fangirl. It's okay."

This broke the ice, and they all burst into laughter. The living room, with its soft lighting and the distant hum of Fleetwood Mac's tunes, witnessed the easy camaraderie of new friends. As they settled into conversation, the transition from fan admiration to genuine connection felt effortless, the shared laughter echoing in harmony with the melodies that surrounded them.

Y/N, sensing Natalie and Maia's eagerness to get to know one of the artists they both admired, decided to give them some space. With a smile, she excused herself, mentioning she needed a moment and headed towards the conjoined bathroom.

As she closed the door behind her, Y/N took a deep breath, grateful for the chance to collect her thoughts in the brief solitude. The room's distant chatter and laughter, though comforting, served as a stark reminder of the evening's unexpected reunion with Harry.

As her eyes met her reflection in the bathroom mirror, a mix of emotions played across her face. There was joy, undoubtedly, at the sight of Harry again after a year of separation. His presence evoked a rush of memories, laughter, and shared moments that had shaped a significant chapter of her life. Yet, intertwined with that joy was an ache, a reminder of the emotions she thought time had dulled.

The realization hit her; she had missed him more than she allowed herself to acknowledge. Seeing him, hearing his voice, brought back the echoes of the past, the shared dreams and the bitter taste of the breakup that lingered beneath the surface. It was as if time had folded, and for a moment, the wound felt fresh again.

She held back tears, feeling the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings. The bathroom, with its muted ambiance, became a sanctuary where she grappled with the bittersweet truth of their renewed connection. The mix of emotions was a testament to the complexity of their history, a narrative that had left an indelible mark on her heart.

Lost in her whirlwind of memories and emotions, Y/N hadn't realized how much time had passed. The knock on the bathroom door jolted her back to the present, and she hastily wiped away a stray tear. "Coming!" she called out, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

A familiar voice responded, breaking through the door's barrier. "It's me, sunflower. Can I come in?"

Y/N took a big breath, her heart fluttering at the endearing nickname that held echoes of a shared past. With a decisive nod, she unlocked the door, letting him in.

The bathroom door swung open, revealing a smiling Y/N, standing amidst the faint glow of the room. Yet, as normal as she tried to portray herself, he knew her more than she knew herself.

Harry stepped in, closing the door behind him, his green eyes holding a mixture of concern and understanding. "Are you okay?" he asked gently.

Y/N nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, just needed a moment.” The bathroom felt like their own little bubble and privacy; vulnerable. And for a moment, this was her Harry —well, was— and decided to just be honest. “It's just… a lot to take in, you know?"

Harry mirrored her sad smile, acknowledging the weight of their reunion. "I understand. It's a lot for me too." He gently touched her arm in a comforting gesture, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes. "I never expected to see you in the crowd again… after everything.”

For him, the sight of her in the audience triggered a strong sense of déjà vu, as if time had folded back on itself, recalling the moments when she used to be a familiar face in the crowd every night during their time together.

Feeling the warmth of his touch and the weight of shared history, Y/N found herself enveloped in a spontaneous hug. Harry's arms wrapped around her, a familiar embrace that brought a rush of mixed emotions. At that moment, words seemed inadequate, so they let the hug speak for itself.

"I missed you, bug," Harry whispered, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I'm glad you're here."

Y/N, her eyes damp with unshed tears, managed a small, heartfelt smile. "Me too." The simplicity of those words carried the depth of the emotions they both felt. In the shared hug, amidst the echoes of their past and the uncertainties of the present, they found a moment of solace—a bridge between what was and what could be.

hellooo i'm back!! :) if you want to be added to the taglist, please reply to this post! thank you so much for the support, hope u enjoy <3

taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @one-sweet-gubler @jjsgirlp4l @lovingmesstuff @gem1712 @tinyhrry @kipperthedog2004 @behindmygreyeyes @theekyliepage @winterrays @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @slutforcoffein @a-strange-familiar @grapejuice-rry @tranquility-moon @tpwksummer @awkwardbisexuall @ameerakane20 @harryspirate @that-one-little-soybean @voniikg @lovergirl42442 @daydreamingwithaseaview @harrysdaydream22 @lonelyxhabit @obsessed-with-every-book-ever @silenthappyplace @ameerakane20 @hesdebility

#harry imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harrystyles #harry styles series #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #famous!harry #second chance romance

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yandere-romanticaa · 6 months

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Here are some crumbs about yandere mortician! From now on, his name is Viktor. (I'll make a detailed post about him, his personality, looks later, I promise.)

masterlist.

Viktor can often be seen with headphones in his ears, his expression neutral and eyes glazed over with a sheen of nothingness. When he's spotted in public people want to give him the benefit of doubt and say he's just lost in his own world, consumed by the sound of music. Perhaps he's just so in tune with the lyrics, maybe they speak to him on a level which people often seek out when listening to music. His playlist is filled with all sorts of songs - be it long ballads, cheesy love songs, generic pop, heavy metal, screamo, classical music, frankly some songs you wouldn't even expect someone like him wouldn't even listen at all(a la WAP by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion).

Even while working, Viktor likes to have something playing in the background. His co-workers often joke about his music taste but he just shrugs them off without saying anything. It's all just a rollercoaster, a complete mess but he likes it that way. It's fun to be on his toes.

Truthfully, Viktor never liked music. He never bothered paying attention to the lyrics nor the meaning or even the tune of the song.

He simply can't stand the silence.

Viktor is a walking contradiction - he dislikes most people and yet wishes to be a part of them. He wants to be someone. But he doesn't know how to do that. His way of coping became listening to music. He even learned to play some instruments growing up, thinking that maybe someone would take a liking to him.

Even so, no one bothered with him. He was still a nobody.

Some did admire him, from a safe distance at least. His aura was black as charcoal and posture stiff as a board. Even if one dared to look at him for too long it felt like Viktor would pluck their eyes out if he caught them looking.

Perhaps he would. He wasn't sure either.

The sounds had no meaning to him. It was all used to cover up the silence, pure white noise. Nothing more, nothing less.

All of that came to a screeching halt once he met you, his tiny piece of sunshine.

You'd go through his playlist, sometimes scoffing, sometimes liking the things you saw. His eccentric side never failed to amuse you. Amongst that jungle you'd ask him who his favorite artists were, if he had anyone specific he liked.

Viktor said the names of some random artists he thought you fancied yourself. He wanted you to like him.

His answer ultimately did not matter in the end as you would still recommend some of your own personal favorite songs to him. Viktor promised he'd give them a listen as soon as he could.

Later that evening, he was hard at work. As he was putting on his coat he turned towards his phone and reached towards it, slightly eager to see what you had in store for him. The song played quietly in the background as gently rain tapped against the window, giving the morgue a more tranquil feel than it ought to have. The person on his table tonight was an old man who presumably died of a heart attack earlier this morning.

Poor soul. That was all he could bother to say.

The evening went on as it usually did but Viktor could not stop thinking about you. His sweet little sunshine, he was so touched by the fact that you bothered to go so far for him. He could feel his heart racing as unfamiliar butterflies started to flutter in his chest.

Badum. Badum. Badum.

If he wasn't careful he would be the next one to die of a heart attack.

The music got a bit louder as it reached the chorus, its tune almost perfectly in sync with his heart. He hadn't even realized that he started to sway his hips gently. Left, right, left right.

It felt like the correct thing to do.

Viktor also picked up the sound of a male voice humming which was odd, considering the fact that the singer of the song was a woman. He nearly dropped his scalpel as he realized that the one who was humming was him, not someone else, him.

For the first time in his life, Viktor bothered to pay attention to the song. The singer detailed her undying feelings for her lover, promising herself to them and them only.

Viktor thought about you the entire time. He never fancied himself as a dancer but if he could, he would want nothing more than to dance with you.

Would you want to dance with him?

For the first time in his life, Viktor found joy in the music he listened to. And it was all thanks to his sunshine.

🔪 TAGS: @shamelessdarkprince

#yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere mortician #yandere mortician x reader

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lovebugism · 7 months

Note

for your fall prompts! what about “why are your hands so cold?” with the love of my life, steve harrington?

autumn, my love! ty for requesting! i hope you like it!! — steve makes fun of your cold hands but only as an excuse to hold them (mutual pining, friends to lovers, 2k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Family Video always smells like Robin’s morning coffee, crisp autumn air, and warm nostalgia this time of year. It’s quiet and homey and liminal — as orange as early autumn itself.

The empty store is filled with the sound of your rushed scribbling as you jot down a load of cursive nothingness in your journal. Your hand smears the wet ink across the page. It stains the paper as much as the side of your wrist.

Your other hand is curled into a fist to prop up your lolling head. Expelling your racing thoughts into the leather-back book is the only thing keeping you awake.

The stale air glows suddenly with a newfound life when a cozier, more familiar scent engulfs you — like pine, musk, and vanilla. You feel Steve’s visceral warmth surrounding you. Before you can blush about the unexpected proximity, he snatches your journal out from under you.

“Hey!” you shout before you mean to, perhaps the loudest he’s ever heard you.

“What’s this?” this beautiful boy muses, honey eyes sparkling. The dull store blooms with its radiance. You can’t believe he’s looking at you with it and with his rosy, lopsided grin.

“Give it back,” you demand, quieter now and smiling wider.

Steve meets your playfully arched brow with a sunny grin. He thumbs through your journal with golden hands from a leftover summer tan. His biceps are all but bursting from his vest and too-tight polo.

“Keith said you’re not allowed to write in your diary on the clock, you know?” he reminds with a feigned seriousness, scrunching his nose when his twinkling eyes flit back to yours.

Keith did actually say that. A few days ago now. He also said he’d dock your pay if he caught you doing it again, the absolute asshole.

“It’s not a diary!” you argue with a beam on your face.

You briefly wonder if you’re smiling a little too wide, and the fleeting thought makes the bright expression flicker.

You cross your arms over your chest and pretend to be more serious. Something about Steve stirs a deep sensuality in you, though — like a wolf innately drawn to a full moon. The corners of your lips quirk with an emotion you couldn’t conceal if you tried.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he singsongs with raised brows.

Strands of honey hair hang over his wrinkled forehead when he turns to the book in his hands. He swipes his fingers through them to push them back again, but they fall into place a second later.

You’re too enamored by the boy in front of you to stop him when he starts flipping through your notebook. You know he knows it isn’t a diary. You also know he wouldn’t be going through it if it were. He’s too nice for that. Too sweet on you, anyway.

He finds a random page and lingers there. His eyes flit over every inch of the ink you’ve scribbled inside — miscellaneous lists, doodles, and song lyrics. He figures it must be the music you’re humming all the time, tunes you can’t get out of your head.

Every time I see you, all the rays of the sun are streaming through the waves of your hair, the words read in clumsy cursive. And every star in the sky is taking aim at your eyes like a spotlight. The beating of my heart is a drum, and it’s lost, and it’s looking for a rhythm like you—

Steve’s heart flutters. He feels like a kid again. His stomach swirls with the thought that you might’ve been thinking about him in between the lyrics. It’s as unlikely as it is childish. He knows this, so he frowns.

“Oh,” he monotones playfully, brows pinching and lips jutting. “That’s boring.”

“Exactly. So give it back—” You reach for the book, but Steve’s too quick. He jerks it out of your reach and leaves your hand grabbing at air.

“Ooh, sorry, sunshine,” Steve lilts. “Looks like you’re not tall enough for this ride.”

Your cheeks speckle with heat. You wonder if he’s flirting or if he’s just being friendly, and you’re too in love to know the difference. Your terribly hidden smile is wide and impossibly giddy, anyway.

“Steve,” you bite, though it comes out much happier than you intended it to. “Give it back.”

He purses his lips to the side and furrows his brows. “Hmm… No.”

Your smile broadens, and your eyes widen at his blatant defiance. You giggle like a child as you walk the short distance towards him. “Give it back,” you laugh and stand on the tips of your toes in front of him.

He chuckles boyishly in return and lifts it further out of your reach.

You jump slightly off the ground to grab it. You fail the first time and try harder the second. You just narrowly miss it. The tips of your fingers brush his wrist as your torso presses too intently against his ribcage.

Your chest scrapes his vest and jostles his Hi, I’m Steve name tag. You stumble back in mortification.

With a red-hot face and a gaping gaze, you try to stammer out an apology. Nothing comes out. Your mouth opens and shuts like a fish as you pull the hem of your sweater down from where it had ridden up.

Steve has his own look of bewilderment. His honey eyes are aglow with something short of amusement. You’re briefly worried he’s about to mock you until he starts to laugh. “Why are your hands so cold?” he wonders with squinted eyes.

Your stutter hasn’t quite left you. “I— I don’t know. My hands are always cold.”

You curl your fists into the sleeves of your sweater on instinct. If only to hide how they shake for him.

“But that’s like… ice cold,” Steve insists, crooked smile widening. “Like, we live in Antarctica cold.”

Less embarrassed and more playful, you roll your eyes and turn away from him. “Okay…” you mumble under your breath as you sit back down in your chair. Steve can’t stand you being too far away, so he follows you.

“Like, you just got done shoveling snow with your bare hands cold. Like—”

“I get it, Steve. I’m a freak of nature,” you concede, spinning in your swivel chair to face him again.

He’s much closer than you expect him to be. His long legs are all but inches from your knees as he stands before you. You flush but smirk up at him in attempts to keep cool about how fervently he makes you tremble.

“I’m just teasing,” he assures with a pretty laugh.

You already knew that, though. He’s too kind to be mean. He’s a dumbass sometimes, but he always means well.

“Here, look,” he starts, laying your journal back on the counter with a quiet thud. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

Your brows pinch. “What do you mean?”

You find out a second later when he turns back to you and takes your hands in his larger ones.

His fingers are long and golden as they curl around your knuckles. His palms aren’t soft, but they aren’t rough either — like they’ve been used, but not too ardently. And he’s warm. He’s oh, so warm.

You tense at the sudden action but relax a second later, melting into him like you’ve always been destined to.

“Oh…”

“Right?” Steve nods with raised brows and quirked lips. “I’m practically a space heater.”

Your heart’s fluttering too aggressively to stutter out an intelligible sentence, so you just nod back at him. “Yeah…”

It makes a little too much sense that the ray of sunlight that always calls you Sunshine feels so golden warm.

Steve gives your hands a squeeze. “See? You’re getting warmer already.”

He doesn’t know it’s because you’re blushing so intensely you feel like your entire body has been set on fire. You’re happy to let him keep on not knowing.

“Thanks, Stevie…” you murmur quietly, gaze trained on your entwined hands.

“Stevie?” he chuckles.

Your eyes dart up to his sparkling ones, and you freeze. You hadn’t meant to call him that. That nickname was usually reserved for your too-elaborate daydreams. “Oh. Shit. Sorry. It just— It just slipped. I’m sorry.”

“No. No, it’s okay,” Steve assures with the shake of his head, giving you another reassuring squeeze. “Seriously. I liked it.”

You exhale a nervous laugh through your nose, ducking your gaze away from his. “You always hate when Robin calls you that…”

“Well, yeah. ‘Cause she’s Robin.”

Your laugh is more genuine this time.

“And it sounds a lot prettier when you say it, anyway.”

He must notice how hard he’s making you blush with how warm your hands have gotten — from frozen solid to fiery hot. But he holds them, anyway. Even when they get all clammy. You want it to mean more than it probably does.

“Yeah?” you press, peering up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah,” he nods like it’s obvious, then gets as sheepish as you a moment later. He tries to act cool through his shyness, tilting his head and shrugging as he smirks. “How about you call me that tonight?”

Your eyes go wide at the unintended insinuation.

His gape matches your own when his own words dawn on him. “I meant at dinner!” he follows quickly. “At Enzo’s. Seven o’clock. You know, if— if you wanna go with me or whatever.”

You do. Most desperately so. In fact, you’re pretty sure you dreamt about it one time. Maybe you’ll tell him that if you’re brave enough — over pasta and breadsticks.

“I don’t have a car,” you confess with a forced laugh. “Or a pretty dress…”

“I can pick you up!” Steve assures immediately, then grows visibly shier. He shifts his weight on his feet but doesn’t try to let go of your hands. It feels too right to hold them. “And, you know, I’m sure you’ll look nice in whatever you decide to wear, sunshine.”

You purse your lips to the side as you nod, lest your beam blinds him and makes your cheeks burst.

“Okay… Enzo’s. Seven o’clock,” you repeat quietly.

“I pick you up,” he says, squeezing your hands.

You squeeze him back. “You pick me up.”

“And we spend an hour eating breadsticks and making fun of all the wine snobs.”

The imagery makes your stomach swirl, a dream so real you can taste it — red wine and garlic and cherry chapstick.

“Sounds like a plan,” you affirm with a sheepish giggle.

He nods, having no idea he’s grinning like a lovesick idiot down at you. “Cool.”

“Cool,” you repeat.

You watch his tongue dart out to wet his bottom lip. For a fleeting moment, you think he might kiss you. You want him to kiss you. You might melt at his feet if he did, but you need it like you need air.

Ding!

The door chimes at the front of the store.

Autumn air rushes in, leaving you bitterly cold all over again. Or maybe that’s just because Steve’s stepping away from you. Both of you know that Keith will have a fit if a customer complains about PDA.

“Hi! Welcome in! Can I help you find anything?” Steve greets as kindly as always, smiling just the same.

He only says it because he has to say it. He’s secretly hoping for a negative response, just so he can keep on talking to you.

The man in big work boots and a thick canvas jacket squints around the store. He rubs his scruffy face with a hardened hand and turns to Steve. “Yeah, actually,” he says in a gruff, gravely voice. “I was looking for this movie for my wife. It’s her birthday and…”

He rambles on about her favorite movie, a cartoon from her childhood he’s gone two towns over to find. It’s sweet enough to give you butterflies, though it doesn’t match the zoo that erupts in your stomach when Steve turns to look at you again.

He departs from you with a honey gaze. You smile back at him as he goes, watching him intently as he helps the customer with a pretty pink smile.

Your hands are cold again. So much that they ache with you curl them into fists.

You can’t wait for Steve to hold you again tonight. Over a white-clothed table, warm yellow candlelight, and wine-slicked lips.

Enzo’s. Seven o’clock.

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