#editing this was a nightmaRe but i think it turned out okay!!

[caesium-55]

—everything is orange. [ iv ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

note: omg im so sorry for not being online lately. i got a writing part time job now so... i may not be as active as before. hope yall are having a great day! not edited. not beta read.

masterlist.

Everything inside your studio is gray. The walls, the couch, the floor, the instruments. It's the kind of room that will make a sad beige mom over the moon.

But when you open the door and the sight of one Lando Norris greets you, looking devilishly handsome in his dark blue button up shirt and black pants and Nike sneakers with his curls concealed underneath his dark blue bucket hat, the studio suddenly doesn't feel as gray as it usually is.

“Lando?” Your brows rise towards your hairline. Truthfully, he’s one of the last people you expected to see inside HAN Ent’s building, much less outside your studio.

“Hi,” he smiles charmingly at the shock in your voice, showing all teeth and smile lines. “Do you mind if I come in?”

You stammer, still not over your shock, “S-Sure.”

You step aside to grant him space and allow him to enter your magic shop. Lando’s eyes curiously roam around the studio and you close the door behind him, nudging the houseplant further to the wall using your foot to avoid getting tripped on it in the future.

“Take a seat. Please,” you invite, gesturing towards the couch. Lando takes the invitation and sits down. He looks too big on the couch, you note. He has long legs and an athletic build. Perhaps, it’s time to buy a bigger one.

“Nice place,” he compliments.

You want to snort out loud but refrain yourself from doing so.

Lando is saying things out of politeness.

Your studio is shit.

You know that.

It used to be a stock room that was converted into a studio when Yoon PD-nim offered you that deal, that's why the room is graciously small. They soundproofed the walls, painted everything gray, shoved in a few pieces of recording equipment and called it a day.

It's still quite nice of Lando to compliment the place though. You might hate this place but this is your wizard’s tower, your witch’s hut, your magic shop, and you feel pride swell in your chest when someone thinks your little corner is cool, even if you think he’s lying.

“Thanks,” you say sincerely. “How did you know I was…”

“I asked Jinnie,” he says simply.

“Ah,” your tone falls flat.

A moment's pause.

“So this is where you’ve been working?”

You nod. Suddenly, you feel conscious.

Your studio isn't really in the best state right now. When you work in a creative fever, you tend to make a mess. Being messy enhances your creativity. The sprawled papers with lyrics, the empty styro cups of coffee lying around, numerous pens and pencils (you don't even know why you feel the need to bring a lot of them) and rubber erasers, and your snacks. There's a mountain of crumpled paper in your trash can.

“Sorry, the place isn't really….” you trail off, making vague gestures with your hand. “I didn't know you were coming.”

“It's okay,” he chuckles. “I called, you know. And texted. You didn’t return any of it.”

“Oh, my phone’s charging,” you say, beginning to feel bad that you accidentally ignored him. “And my notifs are silent.”

“That explains it.”

“Shouldn't you be resting?” you asked. “You have a flight tomorrow.”

It's currently the 19th. Lando is set to leave for Japan on the 20th. His team wants him in Suzuka by September 20 and not later than that. They already had a field day when Lando announced that he's flying with you. At first, he wanted it to be just you and him. His team wouldn't let him because he can be a PR nightmare if given enough freedom so they let his manager, Kyla, tag along.

You’ve mistaken Kyla as a member of the PR team. Turns out she’s his manager.

“Is it a sin to want to spend a few hours with my girlfriend before I go?” he flutters his eyes innocently. You snorted.

“Fake but okay.”

“I’m being sincere here, girlfriend,” he pushes his lips into a pout. “Did you eat already?”

“No,” you answer.

“Should we grab something together?”

“Should we?” you humor his suggestion. It's been a few hours since you’ve eaten. You’ve skipped both breakfast and lunch.

“I think I can call a restaurant and make a reservation.”

“It's near midnight,” you point out, glancing down at the Rolex decorating his wrist. Isn't he aware of how late it is?

“So?”

“Restaurants are closed by now,” you state.

Lando shrugs.

“I can make the effort of finding those seafood pasta you like.”

Your brows furrow.

“What do you mean like? I never said I like those.”

“But I thought…” Lando blinks. “I’ve read it somewhere…”

“Huh?”

“You're from Jeju, right? You grew up eating seafood so you like seafood and you once said you have a palate for Italian food. I tried…liking the pasta with seafood. I hated it but I ate it anyway.”

Your jaw hangs open at the revelation.

This is single-handedly the sweetest thing someone has ever done to you.

You don't know whether to be touched about the sincerity or to cry because of his idiocy. You can definitely do both but you refuse to do both. You have an image to maintain.

“Didn't I tell you that the company manipulated my public information?” you ask incredulously. “Yes, I was from Jeju but I didn’t eat seafood much. I have a mild allergy—”

“In seafood?” you see his eyes widen into saucers. Oops, you shouldn't have said that. “Wait, you had an allergy attack, didn't you? On those lunch dates we had? Why didn't you tell me so early on?”

“I thought you liked it!” your voice raises slightly, panicked. You're caught. He isn't supposed to know about this.

“I didn't?! I loathe seafood but I ate a few bites because I thought you liked it!”

You blink at him. That is the sweetest while simultaneously the most stupid thing someone has ever done for you. You drag a hand across your face, a groan escaping your mouth and yet you’re smiling. You shake your head at him.

Points for Lando Norris for making you capable of feeling frustrated and another feeling you cannot name.

“We’re idiots.”

There is a stretch of silence before Lando speaks up.

“What do you want to eat? And please tell me the real one.”

You began listing the first three things that appeared inside your brain, “I like…. ramyeon, natto, and tteokbokki.”

You have a palate for convenience store food. Food that you can find in busy night markets. Food that is sold by street vendors. The kind of food that tastes like absolute shit if cold but tastes like home if microwaved into the right amount of temperature. If you venture in your imagination hard enough, you can taste your mother’s cooking after a few bites. But you don't tell Lando that.

“We can eat that.”

You raise a brow.

“The ramen, the chicken, and the tteokdokdok.”

“Tteokbokki,” you correct him gently.

“Tteoktokki,” he repeats.

“Tteok.”

“Tteok.”

“Bokki.”

“Bokki.”

“Tteokbokki.”

“Tteokdokki.”

You shake your head, “Tteok-Bo-Kki.”

“Tteok-Bo-Kki.”

You snap your fingers, nodding in approval, “Better.”

“I literally said the same thing.”

“You didn't.”

“Where will we eat this tteokbokki?” He says the tteokbokki slowly, careful with his pronunciation.

“There are night markets nearby,” you tell him. “It’s crowded though. I know a good convenience store that’s a good drive away. It’s usually empty. Do you go to convenience stores?”

You suddenly feel stupid for asking.

Do multi-millionaires like Lando Norris go to convenience stores? It’ll make much more sense if he books restaurants or employs a private chef to cook for him at home. Do they even have a palate for instant food? What do rich people snack on? You don't know. You're not rich. Even after becoming famous, you’re still not rich enough to live the life of luxury.

This just highlights the difference of the worlds you and Lando live in.

“I do. Just not frequently,” he shrugs. “We can go to the convenience store if you want. I don't mind.”

“No, it’s fine. We can eat anywhere you want. Jinnie might have a few hotel restaurants in mind.”

“But do you want to eat in hotel restaurants?”

His question makes you pause and Lando immediately takes your hesitation as a no.

“We can eat anything you want to eat. This is your place anyway. Show me around.”

You bite your lower lip as you contemplate. Should you or should you not? That is the question.

When your eyes drag themselves back to Lando’s face, you see that he’s already looking at you intently as he awaits your answer patiently. You want to shrink back at the intensity of his gaze.

“Well then, do you want to go on a convenience store date with me, boyfriend?”

Despite the hesitation he’s displayed earlier, Lando grins at your offer.

You take Lando to your favorite place in all of South Korea. Google Maps says it's a three hour drive away. You arrive there in two hours and a half.

Maybe it's a sign to change careers.

You used your Jeep Wrangler. Lando offered to drive but you shook your head and hopped on the driver’s seat, him taking the passenger seat.

You won't allow anyone to drive your car. It's a rule of yours.

The last time you allowed someone to drive your car, your Hyundai jumped over a sewage canal. Lando might be a professional race car driver and that alone spoke multitudes of his driving skills, but you're so traumatized with the incident with your Hyundai that you physically can't allow anyone, professional driver or not, to handle the steering wheel of any other cars you own.

Cars are expensive. You can't buy another car. You’ll bawl when you see the money departing your bank account.

You palm the steering-wheel with your right hand. Your left hand lays flat on the back of the passenger seat, behind Lando’s head. Your upper body is rotated towards the back, full focus activated as you reverse the car in expert ease. Lando is observing you, you can tell. You can feel his eyes burning holes in your side profile.

“You okay?” You ask Lando. The man has gone uncharacteristically silent when you’ve started reversing the car. You hear Lando let out a breath. Almost shakily. You cannot tell for sure.

“Yeah,” his voice breaks like a boy undergoing puberty and you have to thin your lips into a line to prevent yourself from laughing. “Nice parking skills.”

“Thanks,” you say nonchalantly. “You sure you're okay though?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” you see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he rubs his throat. “I think the seatbelt’s a little too tight.”

Once the car’s perfectly parked, you kill the engine and exit the car. Lando follows suit.

“I don't know why you have to drive for almost three hours just to visit this place,” Lando gestures to the surroundings. “There's nothing here.”

“Exactly,” you say. “Come on, boyfriend.”

You pat his shoulder and lead the way. A bell chimes loudly as you push the door open. You step inside, the British racer only a few steps behind you. You tug down your mask.

“What's this place?” Lando questions.

“24-hour convenience store,” you answer. “But no staff.”

“No staff?” he asks. “So self service?”

“Ah yes, that’s the word. Self service,” You say. “Quite nice, right? We have complete privacy and good food. Two best things in the world.”

“Careful. Your introvert is showing.”

You snort, “First time coming to a place like this?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “No staff? Does nobody attempt to steal things?”

You shrug, “Probably not. Ramen is not worth going to jail for.”

“This shop will make a million dollar loss in an hour if it's in another country,” Lando says, his nose wrinkling. “Like in the UK or US or something.”

You beckon Lando to follow you through the aisles, “This way.”

“You even memorize the places of things,” he comments. “You come here often?”

You hum a yes. You stop in front of the freezer and open it, pulling out two plastic cups.

Lando’s forehead creases, “Just ice?”

“This is an ice cup,” you explain.

“Are we going to wait for the ice to melt before drinking it or….”

You stare at him incredulously before promptly bursting out in laughter.

“What's funny?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“Nothing, sorry,” you clear your throat. You don't know why you find that funny. Your humor is broken. “They sell pouches of juice or coffee and you pour it into the cup.”

Lando’s head tilts. He looks like a confused baby owl.

“Here, I’ll show you,” you walk up to a nearby shelf and grab a Kuromi pouch. It's peach-flavored. “This. You pour it here.”

You gesture to the ice cup. Lando’s mouth forms a circle in realization.

“Cool.”

“There are a lot of flavors,” you add, gesturing to the shelf. “Peach, apple, mango, strawberry, orange…”

You read out the flavors for Lando because you know he can't read Hangul. Lando wordlessly picks a grapefruit-flavored pouch. You nod.

“Good choice. Oh wait, we forgot to get a basket. Can you?”

Lando nods and leaves. When he comes back, now with a yellow basket, the two of you continue to browse down the entire store. You explain each of the food. He said no to most of them. Lando is a picky eater, you learn.

The two of you fill the basket near to the brim. You pay for each item, even though Lando insisted that he do it, and you occupy the table that faces that floor-to-ceiling glass window, overlooking the darkness of the night outside.

“Here,” you hand him a plastic fork. Lando accepts it, his brows furrowed. “You were struggling with the chopsticks.”

A shy smile makes its way to his face, “Sorry.”

You wave your hand as if to say it's no problem and plop down on the chair beside him. Lando digs in with his Buldak Samyang carbonara while you stir your Yoppoki Tteokbokki with yours before taking your first bite. You immediately let out a moan of pleasure.

“Is it delicious?” he asked.

“Very.”

You eat until your cheeks fill, chewing slowly.

“Oh wait, you should post something.”

“Now?”

“You took pictures of me earlier, right?” you know he did. He tried to be slick about it but you’d know if someone is taking a picture of you. “Put it on your story.”

“And delete it?”

“No. The world already knows we're dating anyway. Well, fake dating.”

Lando pulls out his phone and shows you the pictures in his gallery. There are aare a total of four pictures. Three are blurry. The other one is blocked by his finger.

“That one is good.”

“What do you mean good? It's blurry.”

“Blurry is an aesthetic.”

Lando shakes his head but opens his Instagram and begins to edit the photo you’ve chosen, “Help me with the caption?”

“I’m not good with them.”

“Me neither.”

“Your first caption was pretty good.”

“You think so?” he sounds hopeful.

You shrug your shoulders.

“Just say something like ‘her’ then put a period.”

That's the limit of your creative powers for the day.

Lando nods and begins typing. He’s typing quite long for a word with three letters and a single punctuation mark. He shows you the caption.

Your brows furrow.

He laughs, “I’m funny.”

“You’re really not,” you shake your head. “Put it in your drafts.”

“So I’m not posting it now?”

“You post it after we leave the place,” you say. “So we’ll be gone by the time the fans see it and decide they’ll come here.”

“That's very smart.”

“That's not being smart. That’s just common sense,” you state flatly.

“You know, I always thought you'd be a cold person.”

You raise a brow, not entirely sure if you're understanding him correctly. Cold is an adjective. It's used to describe temperature. You're uncertain if it can be applied to use as an adjective to describe a person.

Lando must have sensed your confusion that he adds, “Ice queen.”

Oh.

Yeah.

Okay. You understand it now.

“You used to look so cold and cool,” Lando says. “Ice queen. But also an IDGAF attitude. Very intimidating.”

You have no idea what IDGAF means but you nod your head and act like you understand him anyway. You make a mental note to search it up on the internet later.

“But you’re not.”

“I’m not,” you echo.

“You’re actually pretty sweet,” he adds.

“I’m trying to be kind.”

“You don't have to try. You already are.”

“The companies make us act sometimes.”

“What?”

“Like, before debut,” you begin. “There are companies that assign certain images to their idols. They give them parts to play like directors do to actors in movies. Like, oh, you look like this kind of person so you have to act like this kind of person. They take a look at your visuals and decide what role you’ll have. They took one look at my face and told me that I have to be a strict and serious person who is scary and cold and unbothered. I didn't want to do it because I tend to smile really easily before and I just wanted to have a lot of friends, you know?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“When you’re intimidating, you tend to not have a lot of them. Despite that, I followed the role. Many praised me for it and others just….well, they didn't like it. The company was happy, though. They told me I was good at acting. But it's just…sad that the person I am on the screen is not real.”

“Yeah, that's honestly sad. I can't imagine doing that for my team. I’ll suck at it. Imagine me cold and serious,” Lando makes a serious face but he ends up doing a The Rock Smoulder. You have to stop yourself from laughing out loud by thinning your lips and twisting it.

“You're doing it, though. For the team. This whole fake dating thing,” you gesture to yourselves.

Lando mutters something under his breath while stroking his chin. You don't catch it.

“Hm?”

“Nothing. I think your eyes are pretty.”

He's changing the subject. He does it so swiftly, too.

“I know, I thank my mother every day for it,” you joke and Lando chuckles softly. “But don't be jealous, you have pretty eyes yourself.”

He turns into a lovely shade of pink. You can see it. You don't speak of it.

“It changes colors sometimes,” you continue, pointing at your eyes. “Like, it’s kind of gray in the dark. But if the sun shines on it, it has three colors.”

“You stare at my eyes a lot, do you?”

“Well, if a certain thing is pretty, you can't help but stare, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess that's why I stare at you a lot, too.”

You laugh, the sound airy, shaking your head. What a flirt. The cute kind.

“I’m quite the head turner, aren't I?”

“You are,” he agrees seriously.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

He smirks, confident.

“Careful, you might fall for me, fake girlfriend,” he says cheekily. You have the desire to shatter his ego so you did.

“You're handsome but you're not my type.”

His smirk falters. You give a chortle.

“What's your type then?” he asks, leaning slightly forward. His eyes reflect anticipation.

You fall into a momentary thoughtful silence, “For starters, attractive men who can drive very fast cars. With a racing license this time. Not like me.”

Lando smiles at your light attempt at a joke. Good to know that he finds the dark humor surrounding your career-ending scandal funny.

“I am an attractive man,” he gestures to his face. “With a priceless face and I drive a very fast car. Formula one or sports cars. Oh and would you look at that? I have a racing license and a regular driving license.”

“You are an attractive man,” you agree. “But again, not my type.”

Lando dramatically puts his hand against his chest, right above where his heart lies and acts like you just shot him dead on the spot.

“Hmm, what else? Ah, plays golf,” you list another trait of your ideal man.

“I play golf,” he crosses his arms, leans back against the back of his seat, and lifts his hips a little as he adjusts his sitting position on the chair, manspreading a little. This is one of the subtle things men do that women cannot help but find attractive. You’re also a woman. Of course, you find that attractive.

You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. Lando laughs at you.

“A few years older than me.”

When Lando opens his mouth, you cut him off, holding up a finger, “I’m older than you.”

By months only but still.

“In the standards of your fake birthday, I am older than you.”

You huff, shaking your head. He is right, to some degree. The world thinks he is older than you because HAN Entertainment decided to lie about your birthday.

“Looks good in red.”

“You know, orange is a mixture of red and yellow. Technically, it's still red. So I look good in red. One plus one equals two. I am connecting shit.”

He raises two index fingers in the air and connects them together to put further emphasis on the words he imparted in a sage-like manner.

“You're not connecting anything.”

“Hell yeah, I am. I am so smart, I should just be McLaren’s chief strategist. Maybe then I can finally get my first win.”

You cannot help but raise an amused brow.

“Fine, if you're so smart Mr. Strategist, what's plan A to your victory?”

His answer comes immediately, no hesitation and he utters it with so much confidence in his chest: “Sneak into Red Bull and steal their car.”

You abruptly burst out laughing, the sound filling up the entire convenience store. You cannot hold it in anymore. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself down.

You don't laugh pretty. You're very much aware of that. You sound like a dolphin when you do. But Lando is so funny that you forget to feel conscious of the weird sound that leaves your mouth for a whole five seconds before you remember to compose yourself and stop.

“You don't have to cover your mouth when you laugh, you know?” he says. “Or try to stop yourself from laughing. Just laugh if you want.”

You give him a look. Why is he turning serious all of a sudden?

“Wait, red?” Lando does a double take once you’ve composed yourself. “Don’t tell me your ideal type is….”

His forehead creases. You nod.

He says, “Carlos?!” the same time you say, “It’s Kim Mingyu.” How did he even come to that conclusion?

Oh wait. Red. Older than you. Drives fast cars. Racing license. Makes sense.

You blink at each other.

“Who the hell is Kim Mingyu?”

“You don't know Kim Mingyu?” you pull out your phone, open Google Photos, and search for the folder named: 민규❤️❤️❤️. The folder contains 7659 photos of Kim Mingyu.

“Fake boyfriend, let me introduce you to my boyfriend, Kim Mingyu,” you show your favorite Mingyu photo.

The one where he’s wearing a black fitted shirt, his cheek against the back of his hand, and the veins in his arms bulging. He’s serving major boyfriend vibes.

Lando rolls his eyes.

“He doesn’t look that good.”

“No, Lando, you are not seeing it,” you hold the phone closer to his face.

“I am seeing it and I am saying he’s not good looking.”

“Lies.”

“I'm not lying.”

“It's Kim Mingyu.”

“And?”

You pull a face, retracting your phone. “Come on, he’s quite good looking. And tall. Very tall.”

You once have to stand beside him in an ending ceremony in Inkigayo. You barely even come up to his chest.

“I’m tall.”

“You’re shorter than him.”

“You're killing me here.”

You chuckle. You pat his shoulder in faux sympathy.

“There, there. That's okay. You're my boyfriend anyway. Don't be jealous.”

“Damn right, I am.”

You snort.

“But you have to stan Seventeen though. After your race in Suzuka, we’ll try to binge GoSe.”

When you’re too full to finish the rest of your tteokbokki, you drag Lando outside the convenience store.

“Sand?” he questions.

“Sand,” you state.

“There's sand in my shoes,” Lando complains.

“Take it off and like,” you make the motion of flipping your shoes upside down to remove the sand inside. He does as you’ve told him but he seems to be not fully satisfied with it. There is still sand inside his shoe.

“This won't do,” he says. “I should have brought flip flops.”

“Let's go barefoot,” you kick off your shoes and neatly place them on the foot of a nearby coconut tree. You motion for Lando to do the same, but you’re met with hesitance.

“What if someone steals them?”

It's a valid concern to have, you suppose. You look around you. Darkness is all that can be perceived.

“Who’d steal them? Cheonyeogwisin?”

“I don't even know what that is.”

“Just leave the shoes here, Lando.”

The sand feels good underneath your feet. A bit ticklish. A little too familiar. You turn on the flashlight of your phone and jog up to the shore.

“Wait for me!” you hear Lando scream from behind you.

“Palli!” you yell back, voice almost drowning in the wind.

“I am palli-ing!”

You roll your pants up to your knees and soak your feet in the cold waves, shivering. You turn around just as Lando body slams you and the two of you fall into the ice-cold waves. Your jaw comes slack, eyes wide. The two of you are now drenched from head to toe.

Lando bashfully smiles, “Sorry.”

“Lando!” you splash him in his face.

Lively shrieks fill the silent night sky. The stars twinkle with mirth at the two of you, the line between fake and real blurring.

Lando flies out just four hours after you arrive in Seoul proper. You feel bad for bringing him somewhere far and not giving him enough hours to rest. Then, he tells you: "It's one of the best nights I've ever had."

He sounds so sincere that you have to stop yourself from blushing red.

In the schedule Jinnie gave you, you are only required to make an appearance in the race proper on the 24th. You have the 20th, 21st, and 22nd to work on your single before having to fly out on the 23rd. Regardless, you fly to Japan on the 21st with Jinnie in tow, two days earlier than your original schedule.

Jinnie doesn't question nor protest against your obvious disobedience on the appointed schedule. You're glad she didn't.

"Lando?" you question after seeing the man standing behind your hotel door. It's nearly twelve and you've just checked in the hotel with Jinnie. "What are you..."

"Just checking in," he smiles. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Don't you have a race tomorrow?" Despite your question, you sidestep to let him inside your hotel room. "You should be resting."

"That's okay. I'm well rested. Are you going to watch the FP1 tomorrow?"

You shake your head, "I'm going to work on my song."

"Oh," his face falls. "Why'd you fly in early then?"

You shrug.

Honestly, you don't know either.

It's an act based purely on impulse. Not your finest moments.

"Maybe I can watch?" you say. "I'm not really sure."

You don't want to get mobbed again.

ORACLE has a rather large fanbase in Japan. You know there will be curious fans who'll await your appearance in the race. And while you're glad that your PR relationship with Lando is receiving the right type of attention from the public, you still hate having this much attention on you.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Lando says.

"I'll go," you decide with finality. "I mean this is why we're doing this in the first place, right? Make people believe that we're real."

Lando's lips form a line.

"I suppose."

"Then, I'll be there."

The song making can wait.

Once again, Jinnie takes charge in deciding your clothing. You’ve long since given up on protesting or even suggesting your ideas. You have to get used to it again. Wearing whatever is given to you like a doll. After all, you are to return to the stage of KPop again.

Today’s WAG OOTD is a Miu Miu black dress, a black leather jacket, and Gianvito Rossi strappy sandals. Nothing too impressive. It's just the free practice sessions after all.

Jinnie hands you the McLaren ball cap and you grimace.

“How's the song coming up?”

“I’ve been trying to combine my demos and see how it sounds,” you reply. “But I have a concept in mind and I jotted down a few phrases for the lyrics.”

“I got an email from Yoon PD-nim today. He’s strongly suggesting you use a racing concept for your single.”

Strongly suggesting.

Translation: commanding.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Fuck it.

He’s really going to use the scandal and hope it’ll make you rise from the ashes like a phoenix reborn. The problem is that you're far from a phoenix. You’re human. As disappointing that may be but that is the cold truth. You're uncertain how people will react if you use a racing concept. You cannot afford to risk this over something like this.

You have one chance. And if KNetz reacts badly on your song and your MV, you’re never going to have another chance to go back on stage, to go back home.

Yoon PD-nim is too thoughtless at times. You want to shake him.

Jinnie drives you to the paddock and drops you to the parking lot. You expect that you’ll have to find your way to the garage again alone. Your knees are trembling as you step out of the car.

To your surprise, a staff member of the McLaren team—you assume he works for the team because of the orange polo shirt—approaches you as you exit the car.

“[Name]?”

“Hi,” you offer a polite smile.

“I’m Rick, I’m one of Lando’s mechanics, pleasure to meet you,” he introduces.

“Pleasure is all mine, Sir,” you say, dipping your chin into a small bow.

“Come this way,” he beckons. You follow him.

“Did Lando ask you to pick me up?”

“Well, he insisted on picking you up but the race was about to start so we had to force him to stay put in the livery and he wouldn't stay put until we said we’ll pick you up. Said people might flock over you and you don't like it when it happens.”

Your heart warms.

“That's very thoughtful of him. And sweet.”

“That's Lando Norris for you,” he says. “He’s always treating all the people he’s working with kindly. He only has to be polite but he even exerts effort in helping and making our work easier.”

“That's true,” you agree. “I can attest to that, as his fake girlfriend. He only has to treat me well when there's a camera but he’s even going as far as offering friendship.”

The rest of the walk to McLaren was peaceful. Or at least as peaceful as you hope it can be.

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #f1 imagines #fluff #fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #kpop idol! reader

[hollandsangel]

move over | m. sturniolo

okAY here we go this is my first sturniolo fic please be nice to me i am afraid

ps if you’d like to be tagged in any (possible) future fics comment 🍜

summary: matt needs a bigger bed

wc: 1k

warnings: matt x fem!reader, cursing, nightmares? no description really, just funny and fluffy 🫡 all the triplets are in it but reader is dating matt!

..does anyone remember that one video where matt said chris never sleeps in his own bed? well…

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !

you feel yourself slipping back into consciousness, and you can tell from the soft, pale blue light of matt’s bedroom that it’s morning. matt’s fast asleep behind you, resting on his stomach with you tucked up into his side, his right arm slung over your waist. you’re already upset that you have to pee, the idea of crawling out of the sleep-warm bed and leaving your boyfriend’s cozy embrace is not an appealing one, but the nagging in your bladder won’t go away.

with a sleepy sigh you stretch your arm out just enough to the tap the screen of your phone, the numbers 8:23 glaring back you. you still don’t have to be up for another hour and a half, which you think is an acceptable amount of time left to lay in matt’s arms and snooze a bit more, even if you don’t really need anymore sleep.

it’s a bit tricky to clamber out of bed without waking the sleeping boy next to you. trying to keep from dragging the duvet with you when you slide out. you tuck matt back in properly before you wander off to his bathroom. softly, you click the door shut, and it, along with your sleep-hazy mind, muffles any sounds coming from outside the bathroom.

for once, chris slept in his own bed, knowing you’d be sleeping over and nick was editing the video meant to go up later this afternoon early into the morning. it’s too early for him to be waking up on his own but something stirs him into wakefulness, his heart beating a little faster than it should be.

matt had woken up for a mere second when you slipped out of bed and hasn’t fallen back into the depth of his sleep, waiting for you to come back. he’s just barley alert enough to hear shuffling from down the hall, getting louder until the person responsible is standing at the crack in the door.

“matt?” chris whispers, peeking into the bedroom.

matt groans and rolls over just until he can see his brother over his shoulder, “what, chris?”

“i had a fucked up dream, dude,” chris says, padding further into the room, “where’s y/n?”

matt turns a little closer to his brother, facing him now, “bathroom,” he mumbles, “what was it about?”

chris is still standing in the middle of the room, phone held loosely in his hand, “you got into a fuckin’ car accident, a really bad one” he admits, feeling a bit foolish and juvenile for running to his brother after a bad dream, “can i sleep in here?”

matt’s face softens and he rubs his eye, “yeah, ‘course.” he says, watching chris slowly walk towards the bed, “that’s her side,” he says though when chris tries to lay where you had been.

chris fakes a scowl and matt makes a face back, sleep still tugging at his mind. the two of them lay back down, back to back, tugging the covers over their shoulders.

you finish washing your hands and shut off the bathroom light. rubbing at your eyes, you make your way back to matt’s room, looking forward to sleeping a bit longer. upon wandering in you’re met with more than one body under the blankets, making you stop in your tracks.

“chris?” you wonder outloud, stopped in the door way.

matt answers before his brother can, “he had a bad dream,” he explains to you, face smushed into the pillow, leaving the words all muffled and extra groggy.

“sure,” you say, as if chris sleeping in matt’s bed doesn’t surprise you (it doesn’t). dragging your feet over to your side of the bed to matt, where he’s taking up a bit too much room. “move over,” you tell him when he peels the blankets back for you. he shuffles back with a little too much effort and you climb back into bed.

once you’re settled matt scoots a little bit closer to you to make more room for the three people now in his queen sized bed, but also because he never passes up an excuse to hold you a little tighter.

you doze in and out, matt’s soft breath against your neck keeping you a little bit dazed but not quite enough to lull you back to sleep fully. it must be nearing 10 am now, more bright sun spilling in from the cracks in the curtains above the bed. you think chris is awake too, hearing breathy little chuckles every now and then. you reach for your phone, deciding on a mindless scroll through instagram.

after a few minutes it sounds like nick has also woken up, his footsteps audible in the bedroom above. you hear him coming down the stairs, and you think he stops in the kitchen until his voice fills the quiet halls.

“chris?” he asks, standing in his brother’s empty bedroom, confused as to why he’s not in bed.

“in here,” chris speaks up, waiting for nick to press the door open.

he does, standing at arms length with a skeptical look on his face, almost afraid of what he might find. “um…hello, what are you doing in here?” nick asks, finally crossing the threshold.

“he had a bad dream,” matt says into your shoulder, startling you. you didn’t know he was awake.

“i had a bad dwream,” chris says in that stupid pouty voice that drives all of you insane, no doubt looking at nick with puppy dog eyes.

“oh…kay,” nick says and you laugh at the suspicion still evident in his tone.

“did you see the tik tok i sent you?” chris is laughing but stops abruptly when matt kicks him in the calf, which makes you giggle into your boyfriend’s arm.

“yeah, but i’m a bit more preoccupied with the absurdity of the three of you in matt’s bed right now,” nick says in his distinct deadpan drawl, which only makes you smile more.

“c’mon nick you might as well join us,” you say, earning a loud, over exaggerated groan from matt, his arms tightening around your waist.

you think nick must oblige because he doesn’t say anything for a second, coming closer to the bed.

“move over, dummy fuck,” he says to chris, who laughs out loud and scoots closer to matt.

“i hate them,” matt whispers in your ear.

tags! @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo drabble #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x you

[ma1dita]

buddy system

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.2k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he comes with you to rescue your twin brothers, Pollux and Castor. A weekend 'quest' teaches you a lot about Luke, and about yourself too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: um i cant apologize for this word count and ive been looking at this for too long so fuck. Anyways do yall think Luke felt bad when he found out Castor died in battle because of his army in this universe? just me?? okay :) also trouble gets a cool magic item that makes an appearance here, kinda works like polyjuice but with smoke

(posted 2/7/24 betad by lovely ellie @lixzey might edit again when i get some sleep)

—

“No. You might be my father, but you’re crazy, man!”

You’re standing in D’s office at the Big House, and what was supposed to be a short talk before the counselors’ meeting has turned into a full-blown argument. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the words leaving your godrent’s mouth.

You’re going to pick up your little brothers.

“Those two statements are both true, kid. You’re old enough to understand that!”

They need your help.

“You’re really letting your 16-year-old daughter drive down to Florida by herself to pick up some kids she’s never met? Won’t even send me with any quest companions, or like, Grover?” you say exasperatedly, before slumping down into a seat.

“Think of it as family bonding! They’re great from what I remember. You all need to get along anyway.”

Whether it was jealousy or the sudden urge to be petty, you impulsively grab your dad’s Diet Coke and chug it, crushing the can with your fist as a tiny act of rebellion. 

Another one appears on the desk and you chuck it over your shoulder. Mr. D sighs as he conjures another one, to which you do the same thing.

“I can do this all day, kid.”

“So can I, and you know if I do, we’ll be sitting here until I’m 40,” you say expectantly, tapping your fingers on the hardwood surface of his desk.

“What do you want?”

The keys to his car are a start, as well as extra pocket money—but there was something, or rather, someone missing to make sure this weekend goes as smoothly as possible.

Your smirk widens at your father, and he wonders when you’ve gotten good at playing his own game.

It’s like looking into a mirror but his worst nightmare manifested as a teenage girl.

—

There are only two things Luke can think about when he hears the sound of your laughter.

The first is that, unlike your angelic singing that could rival the Muses, your laughter takes after the sound of a maniac, an incredulous crescendo that only something curated by Hades in the deepest pits of Tartarus could produce. It was almost madness-inducing, and it went off in his brain like you were a siren (although he means the kind used for weather advisory, he too gets lured in by your laughter each time he hears it like he’s lost at sea).

Second, as he watches you storm down the lawn of the Big House, your anger brewing something comparable to a Category 5, he raises an eyebrow and thinks, well this ought to be good. Or entertaining at the very least.

“You,” you growl at him, guttural and sharp like the finger you jab into his chest, “we’re going on a quest!”

“Me?” Luke blurts, eyebrows furrowing at you.

A loud groan echoes through the grassy space between the house and the counselors as everyone looks up to see Mr. D dragging his hands down his face at the sheer thought of his daughter causing him more gray hairs. 

“That’s not what we agreed on, kid!” “If you want any of your children to come back to this hellhole in one piece I need backup!” “There’s more of you?”

Both you and your dad glare at Luke now, like he’s interrupting a private conversation.

“Since when do you like asking for help, princess?” 

Mr. D’s arms are crossed over his chest as he speaks to you. Though your height severely differs due to the wooden steps of the Big House, the air is palpable with fear only an Olympian could invoke, reminding the counselors that the man wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to humankind, is in fact inhuman. You, however, are standing tall in the freshly-cut grass in your combat boots with wrath that could rival Ares’ as you stare your father down like the rest of them wouldn’t get struck into the next lifetime due to your impertinence, as Annabeth loves to call it. She looks up at Luke, with her eyes conveying that she thinks you must be clinically insane, but he knows that already so he shrugs.

“I’m not asking for it, I’m demanding it. Besides, he’s like my ESA,” you say, then taking Luke by surprise as you grab him by the wrist and drag him off the front lawn. You think you can hear Beckendorf and Clarisse bite back chuckles.

“Someone tell Rodriguez he’s in charge of 11!” you yell into the air, and words of affirmation and good luck are muttered in response.

“Don’t I get a say in this, trouble?” Luke says playfully, tugging at your arm lightly but unresisting as you sigh and pull him along. Who in their right mind says no to a long weekend away from this place? Monsters and demigods be damned.

“No. Besides, they’re gonna need more luck than we do.”

“Liam, I don’t know why she trusts you, but if my daughter dies, I’ll make sure you’re next!” Mr. D yells out to your retreating figures, and all of the counselors turn to face him realizing that without you, well… that means he actually has to be in charge.

“So what’s the meeting supposed to be about, Annabelle?” Mr. D says, looking at Annabeth only knowing that she’s supposed to be the smart one—and the small girl sighs.

This is gonna be the longest weekend yet.

—

You’re speeding down I-95 with the windows down and the wind brushing through both of your hair. While Luke watches you from the passenger seat with the road signs blurring past his periphery, he also notices that it’s the first time in a while that he’s seen you this carefree. With both of you taking up counselor positions a few months ago, and your dad appointing you to be in charge of all of them (because why have a counselor for a population of one), there’s a lot about you that’s grown up in the two years you two have known each other. But what type of demigod gets to enjoy their childhood anyway, right? Luke can only remember bits and pieces of his.

“How do you even know where we’re going? I can barely read the signs,” he asks.

“Cool blessing from my stepmom. Ariadne’s chill. We talk sometimes and she likes that I keep D in check, so now I can never get lost,” you grin toothily, violet eyes flickering to meet his.

“Was it true what your dad said? That you trust me?”

His voice is a bit louder than it should be over the wind tunnel that blocks out the sound of the radio as the air whips in and out of the car.

“Well, I wouldn't say trust,” you drag out, leaning back against your seat with your eyes still on the road, “More like if I got abducted by a harpy, I think you could cut its wings off and give me a fighting chance at living.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Mason to come,” he mumbles, and you smirk.

“Who?”

His hands are clenched in his lap as a blush brushes his cheeks, windswept in the rays of the late summer sun.

“Your boyfriend. Wouldn’t he be a better companion?” 

Something about the older son of Apollo always ground his gears. It was even worse that you both would sing Broadway musicals together during his sparring sessions. Your harmonious voices echoing from the amphitheater aside, the repetitive grating feeling in his stomach reminds him not to go see Hamilton if he ever makes it out to the city.

“He’s not…” you huff, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you think hard on what to say next, “He’s nothing serious.” You pull the sun visor down as you squint, tilting your head in case he says something else, but you hear nothing. Luke’s staring at your side profile, unable to hide his grin at the new information, biting his cheek.

“Besides, he’s a fucking terrible shot. And you’re supposed to be the best, so I’ve heard. Who else would I want on this trip with me?”

He chuckles at this lightly, your words bolstering his ego.

“So you’ve heard.”

And for a second, the sight of his smile distracts you enough that the car swerves a tiny bit closer to the median. You both ignore it and keep driving.

—-

Hypnos increases his hold on your senses as you finally take a break somewhere in North Carolina, taking refuge in a dimly lit corner of a gas station parking lot. The old car reeks of greasy fast food and all the sugar Luke could get his hands on at rest stops (it was really cute to see him indulge in more normal things like sweets instead of swordsmanship), and both of your seats are leaned back, but it’s hard to get comfortable after having your butt in the same seat for several hours.

You readjust yourself again, making the car shake a bit as you turn over to face Luke. 

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles through closed eyes. His head’s banged against the window one too many times, and it was starting to get annoying.

“Sorry. Just can’t sleep. Thinking too hard.”

He sighs, reaching over to toss your pillow into the backseat, and as you sit up, he rips your blanket off of you too.

“Hey!”

You go silent when you watch him make a makeshift bed for you, turning back with tired eyes as he gestures, “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“I feel bad, Luke. You’re taller than me and your knees almost hit the dashboard.”

He rubs at his eyes, looking at you impatiently, and you know his body is calling for comfort too.

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, you gotta remember that, trouble.” The stories Annie used to tell you about the both of them sleeping on the streets pull at your heart, and as you crawl towards the back, you move before you think rationally–tugging on his arm.

“Come on over here.”

“You sure?” “Before I change my mind, yeah.”

You both move around trying to find a place both of you can be comfortable in, first starting with your heads at opposite windows, legs tangling in the middle before he laughs a little too hard at your fumbling and you launch your pillow at his face. Awkwardly, you climb over his legs into his outstretched arms, slotting yourself against his side as he pulls your hair up from getting trapped between his shoulder and your back.

It’s deadly quiet, and Luke thinks if you could move any closer to him, you might hear his heart thundering in his chest.

“You smell like french fries,” you grumble into his sweater, and his laughter shakes you like an earthquake, uprooting the faint traces of sleep in your mind. 

“At least the monsters won’t find us. Gonna be harder when the twins get here. A lot of demigod smell to ward off.”

You don’t answer, and he thinks you may have fallen asleep until he notices your hand playing with the frays of his sweater.

“Trouble?”

“They’re really little,” you mumble, so low that he barely hears the hesitance in your voice.

“The monsters? Yeah, I fucking ho–” “Pollux and Castor. My…half-siblings, with really Greek names, and a mom that depends on me getting them to camp safely…” you trail off before your head jerks up to meet his eyes. It’s colder at night now, your bodies and the tiny throw blanket from your trunk providing ample heat even if his socked feet fight their way out from underneath.

“How old are they, nine?” He feels you nod against his chest before he continues, “I was nine when I left home.”

Your eyes get glassy at the thought of a smaller version of Luke, one who’s not all gangly legs and lean muscle—one much softer and innocent than the boy you lean your weight upon, running away from home to find a place he can belong. 

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, the arm propped against the headrest wrapping around you and resting on your hip, tapping you to continue your previous thought.

“I don’t know how to do this, I guess. I’m ripping them from their home and I—” “You’re not some kind of monster y’know? You put yourself down too much sometimes,” he sighs, and he watches the windows slowly start to fog up, “What don’t you know how to do?”

Ignoring his question, you change the subject hoping to talk about something lighter, and far less revealing to the thoughts inside your head.

“Do you remember all of that? Going to school and chalking up the sidewalks on the way home, hopscotch and ice cream trucks… I don’t want to take them away from that.”

Luke ponders, digging through his brain for anything happy from his childhood, but through the years his memories started to collect dust in the back of his mind.

“I don’t remember much.”

“Gods, I’m sorry…” 

Mason had told you of your habit of putting your foot in your mouth. You dealt in extremes, giving too much or too little, always saying the wrong thing—and it was the reason why things didn’t go further with the son of Apollo. As well as with the daughter of Aphrodite you saw briefly that told you you didn’t know how to love, not if you didn’t know how to share yourself with others (yeah that one hurt a lot).

Sharing. 

That’s what you’re hesitant about.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now,” Luke mumbles, a beat of silence passing before he redirects the conversation like you did, “What don’t you know how to do, trouble?”

“How to share. Be a sibling. Someone likeable.”

Luke doesn’t mean to laugh at your expense, but he does, and you punch his stomach hard enough he gasps for air.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone likes you.”

“Everyone’s usually scared of me because of D, or hates me because I take dessert privileges and write them up,” you say matter-of-factly, staring out the window above his head at the gentle shine of the moon on his features. It’s a crime for him to look so soft under the low light, and you realize you’re staring when he calls your name.

“No, you don’t get it—you’re the most selfless person I know. You give up sleep to sing to kids before bed, conjure juice boxes so they don’t pass out during training—I’ve seen you carry a kid almost as tall as you across camp because they broke their ankle. You’ve got a lot of love in that twisted heart of yours. I’d know… I mean—I have to share a lot… I’m basically an expert.”

You blink at him as if seeing him in a new light, and you realize then why you picked him to go on this weekend quest with you. Your heartbeat slows despite the show of vulnerability in front of him, and you understand now that Luke makes you feel safe. Biting your lip to hold back a sigh, you decide to just unload the rest of your thoughts, knowing that you’re in the hands of someone who wants to hold the weight. “I’m just used to being alone, I think. I mean who knows what we're like when we're alone but us, right? What a terrifying thought,” you deflect, and Luke closely watches the slope of your nose, down to the smoothness of your lips, unable to put the right words to how he’s feeling.

 I know you, he thinks, and it's not as all bad as you make it seem.

“We’re never truly alone, y’know. Besides, even if you are, you still have me,” he says nonchalantly, and the warmth on your cheeks could generate enough heat to run the car for miles. Chuckling lightly as your eyes flutter closed, you know you need to rest before morning comes since you’re the only one between the two of you that can drive. You reckon you’ll teach Luke by the end of the year if he wants to.

“We’re getting pretty terrible at this enemies thing, Castellan,” you jest with nothing hard to back it, and a smile falls onto both of your lips.

“We were never really enemies, trouble. I just like getting on your nerves.”

Your laughs fall silent, settling into a comfortable silence, until his next words send you off into slumber as you listen.

“I remember my mom singing in the kitchen as she put peanut butter on my sandwiches. She'd act like she left the dishes out for me to wash, but let me lick the knife clean every time and I’d put too much soap and the sink would be filled with bubbles. I don't remember much else but that. Her kitchen. She smelled like…chamomile.”

A wandering hand pulls his free one into yours, holding it until sunrise.

—-

You push Pollux and Castor out the door before the sun rises after a short stay at their mother’s house, and as the engine heats up, you and Luke watch them say goodbye to her with the both of you thinking of last words with your own. The both of you ward off the hellhounds biting off at your heels for a few hours like how you deceived the police the day previous, a purple Zippo lighter in hand whose smoke grants temporary illusions wafting through the car, and it smells like grapes (thanks D!). The kids sleep most of the way, none the wiser and heavy with sleep and their emotions of leaving everything they’ve ever known. Your eyes flicker to their sleeping heads in the rearview mirror, ready to take them home.

Hours later, Luke decides to make you stop at a diner to get you a bit of rest, get actual food, and let the twins pee, and your head is bobbing slightly in front of your plate of food once he brings them back from the bathroom.

“You wash your hands?” you say tiredly, both Pollux and Castor shaking wet hands in your face in response, making you giggle before sipping at your coffee. Luke cut you off from Redbull yesterday, saying he was scared for your liver and saying you needed to drink something else for a bit. He bristles at the sight of you drinking more caffeine, and you smile as the mug touches your lips.

“You’re gonna kill yourself one day. At least your dad drinks Diet Coke.”

“Not by choice, though what a way to go!” you joke, and the twins giggle as the both of them gulp down root beer like it’s essential to their being. Luke sighs at the idea of you having two minions under your belt, who you’ll most definitely train to raise hell on Camp Half-Blood now that you’ve taken more of the administrative side of things.

“Is he your boyfriend, sissy?” Pollux, or maybe it’s Castor pipes up, swinging his legs under the table and you smile at the sound of the nickname, noticing the dimple in his cheek. Luke chokes on his burger, coughing until you elbow him.

“He’s more of my ESA,” you remark, and he still doesn’t know what that is, so he raises an eyebrow like your brothers do as they peer up at you from across the table.

“What’s an ESA?” Castor, you realize, who has no dimples, spits out behind munches of a pickle.

“Luke’s my emotional support animal.”

He eats the rest of your fries despite your confidence in that response, grumbling exactly how a resistant dog would.

As you’re paying the bill, a large shadow looms over the sunny disposition of everyone at your table—and then Luke shouts for everyone to cover their eyes. Glass shatters over you, revealing a hellhound the size of a minivan, and it pounces toward the twins, large teeth bared at their throats. Before Luke can pull his sword out, you whistle sharply and the sound whizzes through the air like a bullet as you toss the Zippo lighter at him as he’s pushing the kids to the car. Though he’s reluctant to lose sight of you, he wards them with an illusion, locking the doors despite their cries and he runs headfirst back into battle, you with your thyrsus and him with his sword, back to back.

“They okay?” you heave, jabbing at the red-eyed canine between the eyes as Luke pulls around to slash it across the neck, coming out of the tussle unscathed as you both watch it keel over at your feet into golden dust minutes later.

“Yeah. Are you?”

Though you originally found it funny, Luke does perform his job well, getting you to calm down as he holds you to his chest until you can breathe normally again.

“Mhm. Just scared me.”

The two of you run out of the destroyed diner and into the warded-off car before the police show up hand in hand as you escape without detection. As he falls asleep, Castor dreams that you two are Bonnie and Clyde like in an old Western movie he was definitely not old enough to watch.

—-

You’re finally back on the Island now, only an hour away from Montauk and Luke is getting restless in the passenger seat. He pulls apples out of his backpack, wiping them off with his shirt as you sing along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.

And maybe someday when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about…. Foolish one… you hum, tapping the wheel to fight off your exhaustion.

Pollux and Castor are using their fingers to pretend to hop over obstacles in the smudged windows, babbling about something they did in class last week. The son of Hermes pulls out a pocketknife he nicked from a gas station this morning as he starts to cut the apples into pieces, putting some into a ziploc bag for the boys to share, and you smile at him, wistful at your trip nearing its finish line. If you weren’t enemies before this like he said, it’s crazy to consider him your closest friend. But he is, isn’t he?

His knuckles nudge yours over the console, pressing an apple slice into your palm.

“You know, Castellan, you’re sweet when you want to be. Shame you and that sister of Annie’s didn’t work out.”

Luke scoffs at the reminder of his ex, slicing another piece off for you to eat. She did say he had wandering eyes…always looking for you. He’s not going to admit that though.

“I just know you like your apples cut. Saw you battling it out with a butter knife last week. Couldn’t help but notice,” he says lowly like it’s normal for people to be that considerate about others, normal for him to care about you like that, a constant push and pull between you two. 

“Hurts my teeth,” you mutter, and Luke chortles like you’ve told him something life-changing. Your hand bumps into his again, feeling nothing but his calloused fingers, and when you look up his cheek protrudes with the last slice.

“Tax,” he winks, and you’re delirious with this feeling that only he can bring you, almost comparable to being high.

The popstar’s voice continues to trill in the background, with my head in my hands, saying “How could I not see the signs?”

You both don’t realize you’ve stopped singing until Pollux pipes up asking for you to play Fireball by Mr. 305 himself.

—-

The car finally pulls into the driveway of the forest path and you’re all greeted by the campers holding blazing lanterns. Chiron, your father, and the nymphs are waving as the twins marvel at the fairy lights strung up along the way for a warm welcome.

“You’re alive,” your dad remarks, and this time he doesn’t say it in jest, sounding more relieved.

“I was in good hands,” you affirm, looking up at Luke amongst the noise of your cheering friends and the feeling that comes with calling this place home.

The boys are tucked in at your side, shyly looking at the crowd, Pollux holding your hand while Castor holds onto Luke’s, and Chiron calls your attention.

“I know you didn’t get your official announcement,” he starts, and you laugh at that, remembering the bubbles in the lake.

“Because I pulled a fast one on D.”

“Nonetheless, I would love for you to get recognized for your efforts. Dionysus. Storyteller, Herald of Chaos,” he continues by announcing your name, and then,” Pollux, and Castor– children of the grapevine, the God of Wine!”

The campers are kneeling and you look at Luke, who’s smiling from the ground beside you.

“Take a picture, trouble, it’ll last longer.”

“My children are home safe. And thank you, Castellan, for being a formidable companion. My deepest appreciation.” Mr. D sounds serious for once, pulling Luke up as he nods in respect.

It’s a crazy feeling to finally feel at home though you’ve been here for two years now. But you remind yourself quickly of why that is when you see Luke carrying Pollux on his shoulders as Castor latches onto his legs.

“You know, your family is a nightmare. You two hellions will fit right in,” he grins.

You can’t help but agree.

—

“I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes. I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed.” -Nizar Qabbani

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[a-d-nox]

I mean, let's say the man's Venus sextiles my Saturn, but my venus squares his Saturn.... But there's his Mars conjunct my Lilith (trine sun) and his Eros conjunct my Mars..... Man, I'd really like a synastry reading in exchange for my dream interpretation (i interpret dream/nightmares)

aspects in synastry and composite charts (venus edition)

after a shorter fun post from the same asker about a year ago, i have decided to trial the start a series after popular demand (sorry i'm running behind schedule)! i am starting in the middle of the chart per the request and after chatting with the asker offline. by middle of the series, i mean that i will not be talking about aspects to planets/luminaries before venus in this post - all planets after venus will be included. when an ask is made for planets/luminaries before venus i will go back to aspects where venus is involved (if that makes sense lol).

all of this is in my opinion. some of it you may be like how tf did she come up with this. my answer: intuition and experience with other people's charts that i have available to me. warning i can be harsh: please don't take everything i say as predestined, astrology is possible outcomes not guaranteed ones. plus let's not forget orbs matter, dominance matters, etc. this is just a starting place for when examining a single planet in an entire galaxy. take what resonates and leave what doesn't!

TW: sexual assault, abuse, and infertility.

ADDITIONAL WARNING: this post does contain mature content.

let's begin!

venus-venus

synastry: positive aspects: you can see the admiration for one another. anyone who sees the two of you together can see you both absolutely adore each other. venus-venus couples may get married to one another at some point because venus represents alliances, companionship, lovers, marriage, suitors, and proposals - at the very least, you two may date for a very long time or go to a big milestone event together like prom. you two are likely very affectionate with one another; you do small things for one another that are utterly heartwarming and adorable - could be holding/opening the door, one person giving their coat to the other, etc. you both often check with one another if what you/they are doing "is okay." in a feminine-masculine relationship the masculine is likely a feminist and lets the feminine be dominant / in charge of the relationship. the masculine in such a relationship may also be a gentlemen and unwilling to do or act in any way that makes the feminine partner feel uncomfortable. you two are constantly flirting with one another. you both are probably very hopeful of this union especially since you likely have a lot of fun together. negative aspects: it is extremely difficult for others to tell if you two really don't like one another. some people may think it is sexual tension or a lovers' quarrel, but you two are likely not each other's biggest fans. you could reject each other's advances - this is the equivalent of receiving the retort "you're not even that hot" after you tell someone you won't go out with them. these people aren't long-term lovers; this is the couple everyone thought would be cute together, but they truly hate one another...

venus-mars

synastry: positive aspects: mars person likely performs a lot of acts of service to show that they care for venus person; mars person seemingly worships venus person. the mars person will likely be the first to make a move or ask the venus person out - it could also indicate that the mars person proposes to the venus person (mars is action and venus is commitment and alliances). mars person is likely to find the venus person to be an aphrodisiac; everything about the venus person turns on the mars person - smell, taste, looks, etc. negative aspects: mars person is likely to do a lot for the venus person but often feels unnoticed or a lack of gratitude for doing so. mars person is prone to starting arguments, while a venus person frequently is the type to immaturely interact with them in response (silent treatment, eye-rolls, etc.). mars person is likely to assert their thoughts and opinions in the connection, while the venus person longs for a true partner who sees and treats them as their equal. (***TW***) the mars person may be belligerent/abusive in the connection and likely has so much ambition regarding the relationship that they frequently ignore or cross the boundaries the venus person sets - the mars person is often impatient and thus can rush the physical aspects of the connection (raped, molestation, etc. ***END OF TW MATERIAL***). mars person is likely to underestimate and be unappreciative of the venus person's power - often a mars person will see a venus person as harmless, meek, and/or "cute". pain is a commonality with this synastry aspect / interaction - the mars person frequently causes the venus person wounds/pain that will take a while for them to heal from. venus person can be too lazy for the mars person's liking. venus person may also have a lot of false expectations/hopes regarding the mars person's character. 

composite: positive aspects: this is super erotic in a composite chart - mars brings the idea of passion and venus brings the idea of amorousness. this couple often is constantly doing things for one another to show that they love, care, and think about the other person when they are not around one another. they often are the couple who appears to enjoy a lot of public displays of affection from one another - they appear as those they are intoxicated by / addicted to one another. negative aspects: it could feel as though this connection is about competing with one another rather than aiding one another to be their best selves. often this connection is quick to fizzle out. both individuals in the partnership might lack gratitude for each other and what they do for one another. it may feel like this couple is constantly arguing with one another and that there is a lot of immaturity in the connection because of how the two argue (they are both unwilling to compromise in most cases). there tends to be an obvious power margin between the two in the connection. both parties can often cross each other's boundaries and cause discomfort for one another in the connection. the two may underestimate each other in the connection and be pleasantly surprised or utterly unsurprised, which causes a strain (they may cite the other as incapable - their lack of ability is why the connection didn't work out). each person may feel the connection has a strain and that they are wounded from/by the relationship. 

venus-jupiter

synastry: positive aspects: venus person generally looks up to jupiter person and admires their achievements. venus person is also enamored by the jupiter person's ability to keep their word. venus person often will celebrate the jupiter person's wins. these two are a match made in heaven - venus person often feels jaded and/or hurt in their connections, while jupiter person knows the perfect thing to say to make the venus person feel better and more secure in the connection. for the venus person, the jupiter person is the most understanding and accepting individual they know when it comes to the validation and reassurance they need. the jupiter person tends to be the knight in shining armor to the venus person's princess in a tower. the gentlemanly jupiter person is often the king of consent; which is extremely appreciated by venus person. the jupiter person's desire for the venus person is often very obvious. jupiter person often proposes to the venus person. the jupiter person often likes to spend a lot of time with and money on the venus person. negative aspects: venus person could envy what the jupiter has and has achieved in life. jupiter person may feel as though they can't 100% rely on the venus person to consistently do what they said they would. the venus person can feel like the jupiter person is gaslighting them or feeding them only what they want to hear (venus person may question the jupiter person's genuineness to them; it might be too good to be true). venus person might feel as though the jupiter person is a misogynist. the jupiter person may feel that they love the venus person more than the venus person loves them. venus person may feel that the jupiter person is extremely clingy. jupiter person may eventually get tired of apologizing and become standoffish: "i don't know what you want from me". venus person can default to immature commentary during fights saying things that are meant to hurt the jupiter person's self-esteem. jupiter person might feel as though they do more in the connection than the venus person does. jupiter person may be a bit careless/unappreciative when it comes to the acts of service or romantic gestures that the venus person makes. jupiter person can be a bit stoic when they are in an argument with the venus person. jupiter person often seeks to improve their connection, while venus person might be too lax to change/improve their connection. the jupiter person can be a bit too possessive for the venus person. 

composite: positive aspects: there is a visible abundance of admiration for one another in this connection - they are extremely wholesome and cute together. often the couple is very strong together and can achieve a lot together in the alliance they have with one another. often this couple is very content with each other. they boost one another's confidence and celebrate their wins as a couple (usually, anniversaries are big for this couple). they are very supportive of one another. this pairing knows how to have fun together, and they are often engaged in flirty banter. this couple is often hopeful of a long-term connection - they often get married to one another. frequently, someone loses their virginity in this connection, and/or they often have children together. make up sex is real in this connection - and they both are very generous towards one another in the bedroom. erotic devotion is very clear in the connection. negative aspects: sometimes people see these two as an old married couple - they bicker and give each other a hard time. sometimes, it might seem likely they are putting each other down. it may seem as though the feminine is extremely dependent on the masculine and as though they are trapped by the masculine in the connection. feminines may feel like they are forced into a submissive role in these connections. they might seem to want a lot of space from one another and could even sleep in two different bedrooms. it might seem as though the couple has given up on their own connection with one another. 

venus-saturn

synastry: positive aspects: venus person often appreciates the saturn person's ambition and their determined attitude - venus person appreciates that they aren't quitters. venus person knows that one day saturn person will be what they want them to be and do what they want them to do because of their determination. saturn person is often very serious when it comes to building a solid foundation and future with the venus person. the saturn person is often very loyal towards the venus person and never would do something to them that would make them feel betrayed. saturn person has a sense of duty towards venus person and tends to do whatever it takes to please them and make them feel content and cared for in the connection. saturn person picks up on the venus person's habits/idiosyncrasies via self-other overlap. a masculine saturn person is often willing to submit to a feminine venus person. venus person knows that they can rely on the saturn person. saturn person often shares their customs with the venus person. saturn person is very patient with the venus person. negative aspects: venus person may feel that saturn person is hesitant to appreciate them the way they want them to. saturn person can feel apprehensive about getting into a relationship with a venus person. this is likely a relationship in which a saturn person represses and denies their admiration for venus person; whether this emotional admiration exists depends on the moon, while sexual/physical admiration depends on mars and pluto. venus person may not receive the commitment from the saturn person that they crave. saturn person may find they are repulsed by venus person post-coital encounter or say that all they can offer venus person is sex. (***TW***) venus person is likely to have their beauty diminished by the saturn person. saturn can represent disdain, grudges, harm, and hatred, while venus can represent the erotic and consent. this combination with a negative aspect, and depending on the tightness of the orb, can indicate the possibility of sexual assault done by the saturn person; see the story of priapus (***END OF TW MATERIAL***). venus person is unlikely to feel contented with the saturn person long term. if the venus person is masculine, they may be ungentlemanly and lose their chivalrous manner when in a more lowkey relationship with the saturn person - as the saturn person seems to lack gratitude for the venus person's manner and mannerisms. the venus person's immaturity in a romantic relationship may be emphasized due to the saturn person's inability to commit to them. venus person may propose to the saturn person, and the saturn person is likely to reject them. venus person may find saturn person boring after a while, and saturn person may find that venus person cannot be serious after a while. saturn person may fear a long-term connection with the venus person - they could feel as though they can't trust the venus person. saturn person may feel neglected in the connection. venus person may trigger the saturn person's previously experienced trauma to the point of a regressive episode. saturn person could feel rejected by the venus person. 

composite: positive aspects: this is a great indicator of a monogamous relationship that is long-lasting. this couple often shares the burdens of life with one another. this couple is often so committed and proud of their coupling that they are the type to promote they are together (monograms, mrs. & mr. shirts, rings 24/7, etc). other couples are the "private but not secret" types that we frequently see on social media (pictures together without one of their faces in the image). negative aspects: this couple may be unappreciative of one another: kind gestures are often overlooked, they neglect one another, they don't seem affectionate/adoring of one another, etc. the couple likely doesn't know how to do nothing in peace with one another - they might not be capable of just relaxing with one another because it feels "awkward". this connection can be very short-lived in some cases because there is likely a lack of romantic commitment between them. (***TW***) there may be sexual aggression between the two (***END OF TW MATERIAL***) or a regret regarding coital interaction. there is likely a lack of honor/chivalry in the relationship - this relationship could present as immature and having plenty of arguments as neither partner is well suited for the other. the coupling could be built on the individuals' shared fear of being alone for the rest of their lives. 

venus-uranus

synastry: positive aspects: uranus person may abruptly tell venus person that they like them. the uranus person is often very submissive to the venus person outside of the public's vantage point. often the uranus person is curious about the venus person and will do some sleuthing about them. venus person is typically touched by their interest and fandomship towards their brand. venus person often looks up to uranus person for their intelligence and generally is intrigued by their mind. the uranus person can be very prompt in communicating with the venus person. venus person tends to appreciate the uranus person's ability to be extremely honest in any situation. venus person often finds uranus person's unpredictability to be incredibly attractive. negative aspects: uranus person could cheat on the venus person in some cases. if they are married at that point, the uranus person frequently has to pay alimony to the venus person. venus person is often bossed around by the uranus person and most of the time that irks them. uranus person is known for having emotionally hurt ex-lovers that might get in the way of the uranus person having a successful relationship with the venus person. this is because often the venus person finds information where the uranus person has, for example, a string of texts in which their exes are asking to get back together with them or the exes are angrily messaging them. uranus person can very quickly change their mind about the venus person and withdraw completely from the connection - a lot of the time, this is one of those connections where they disappear with all their stuff taken from the house overnight or before the venus person gets home. uranus person can discover that the venus person was cheating on them, sort of like how hepheatus discovered aphrodite cheating on him. uranus person may be inconsistent when interacting with the venus person. often, the uranus person wants freedom in the relationship or for the relationship to remain inclusive/"open". the uranus person sometimes rejects the venus person's advances and can even be revulsed by the venus person in some cases.

composite: positive aspects: this coupling is quick to come together - one minute they are just friends, and in the next, they are in a committed relationship. in some cases, these two elope or have a "shotgun" wedding. these couples are open to experimentation and/or a third (fourth, fifth, sixth, etc.) person in the connection. this couple often has a healthy sex life, in which they frequently partake in coital relations. these two feel very lucky to have found one another because they share a lot of "unpopular opinions/views" regarding relationships. sometimes, this couple attempts a trial separation and comes back together stronger than before. negative aspects: sometimes there is some heavy drama in this connection where those involved are alleged "swingers", someone is cheating on someone, etc. not everything that you hear about this couple is always true - oftentimes, there is something worth uncovering about this connection. this relationship doesn't typically end cleanly - often, there are a lot of fights and dramatics. this is the couple in which one person wallpapers the room with text messages to show that they knew the other one of them cheated, someone slashes the tires of the other person's car, one person gets locked out and the other throws all their belongings out of the window, etc. sometimes an "illegitimate child" appears in this connection which causes strain. (***TW***) alternatively, it could be very difficult for this couple to become pregnant and have a successful birth (***END OF TW MATERIAL***). sometimes, these individuals are in a falsified relationship so they can get governmental benefits or security.

venus-neptune

synastry: positive aspects: venus person finds neptune person to be alluring and often finds their chaos and creature mind to be beautiful. the neptune person is the first to confess their feelings for the venus person. venus person can be fascinated by the neptune person. with the neptune person, the venus person can feel as though the relationship is the best one that they have ever been in. venus person can feel as though the neptune person is always reading their mind with how attentive they are towards the venus person. the neptune person is often very comfortable with being vulnerable toward the venus person. neptune person is very sympathetic towards the venus person. negative aspects: neptune person could be hiding a whole other relationship from venus person or could be merely cheating on the venus person in a more lax manner. neptune person is the type to disguise themself in public when with or without the venus person - they often want no one to know what they are up to in terms of their romantic relationships. this is likely to bother showy venus who wants everyone to know that they are in love with one another. neptune person tends to be too emotionally unpredictable for the venus person. the neptune person might be insecure about the connection with the venus person because they see the venus person as better than them. neptune person could be a poor wing person for venus person by misrepresenting who they are. 

composite: positive aspects: these two tend to be addicted to one another. they often are the couple that will wear matching outfits or appear as though all that exists in the world is them as a couple. this couple tends to be sex-positive and might enjoy spicing up their sex life by making a tape together. this is one of those couples who are in a "private but not secret" relationship - they will post faceless pictures together, that they are going somewhere with "their love", etc. this relationship can feel almost dream-like or as though it is a fairytale. it can feel as though this couple reads each other's minds. a wedding between these two is always so beautiful because they write gorgeously, poetic vows to one another. negative aspects: there is a tendency for these two to become codependent on one another - they can't do things apart without one of them getting annoyed/angry/paranoid about the distance. this couple can be extremely chaotic - in a single day, they could be happy and holding hands, then in mere minutes, they could be arguing over a notification, then one could be threatening to move out, then they could be planning their next vacation together. both individuals can have a history of cheating and not being faithful to one another - so they are likely both suspicious of each other. (***TW***) one of the individuals in the connection might film the other, who may or may not know about the filming, during coital relations then leak the tape on the internet (***END OF TW MATERIAL***). often there is a scandal that arises from this relationship. 

venus-pluto

synastry: positive aspects: the venus often feels alive around the pluto person. the pluto person has a gift in awakening the venus person to their surroundings and even who they are and what they are worth. very quickly this relationship becomes exclusive because most pluto people aren't comfortable with inclusive/"open" relationships. venus person is often content in this connection because the obsessive pluto person is willing to do anything they want to keep them happy. the pluto person is likely to treat the venus person like their queen/king. venus person is very grateful for the protective pluto person. negative aspects: pluto person doesn't tend to be trustworthy - they keep a lot of things to themselves and can even keep a sidechick or secret relationship from the venus person. because of this, the venus person should be careful where STIs/STDs are involved (use protection, get tested regularly, see their gynecologist regularly, etc). (***TW***) the pluto person often has an extremely high sex drive, and sometimes, in certain cases, the pluto person can not control their sexual impulses or simply enjoys the power they feel when having sex, so they might sexually assault the venus person (***END OF TW MATERIAL***). venus person tends to be more morally upholding than the pluto person - the venus person can sometimes find what the pluto person does to be "morally atrocious". the venus person is often baffled by what they learn from the pluto person, often it has to do with their obsessive nature or how they betrayed others or even the venus person. pluto people often hurt the venus person - frequently, this is physically or emotionally. venus person comes to loath the pluto person or view them as "evil". pluto person might degrade the venus person and make them feel bad about themselves physically and emotionally. pluto person often feels guilt that they aren't more helpful or better at being in the relationship with the venus person. venus person can feel like the pluto person lies to them very often - the pluto person often is lying to the venus person though they may attempt to gaslight the venus person to cover up their lies. venus person may want to marry the pluto person, but the pluto person may not believe in the institution of marriage.

composite: positive aspects: this is a power couple, and they know it. the couple is happy to exclusively date for a long time - they could keep their relationship on the down-low for a while as well. this is the couple who makes a lot of lewd jokes with one another, and often, you can see that they are comfortable around one another - they can make these jokes without feeling weird or without ignoring one another. they are generally just a super flirty couple. they are the type of couple that keeps each other's nudes in their wallets. sexually, there is often a component of BDSM in these relationships that brings life to their connection and makes both partners extremely pleased. this coupling, in general, reminds me of the smutty novels. this couple may even go to sex parties with one another for fun. negative aspects: this couple often meets unconventionally - on a date with other people, when they are dating someone else, etc. the relationship is typically not long-lasting - sometimes it feels like the relationship is like a vase of flowers that withers away day by day (beautiful and thoughtful at first then smelly, attracting bugs, and rotting away). this couple might have a difference of philosophies that gets in the way of this relationship progressing - for example, pluto can bring nihilism into the relationship "what is the point? nothing matters anyway." the relationship can't grow if both parties do not wish to work on it. 

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[amourdivine]

୨ ♡ ୧ WHAT KIND OF PERSON ARE THEY?   ઉ   PAC

Hello, angels! I hope you're well. I'm bringing in another nosy type of reading. We'll look into who this person really is and if any advice comes up. If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ [email protected] via paypal! xo ♡

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HOW TO CHOOSE YOUR PILE.  take a few deep breaths and look at each picture separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!

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୨୧ PILE ONE

who is this person, deep down? two of cups ✧ the hermit ✧ judgement

This is someone who values meaningful, deep, soulful relationships. They do not crave the buzz of parties or endless chatting with strangers. They don't like small talk. Others may describe this person as an old soul, someone introspective and wise. Their friends turn to them for honest and sensible advice; they may be an older sibling, or someone who's seen as a role model in some type of way.

Unfortunately, this wisdom came at a cost. They have endured a thousand inner deaths in life. This person had to start over many, many times, but they always got back up. As strong as they are also loyal, they're mature and still believe in the magic of being surrounded by good people. Strong Virgo and Scorpio energy, given the cards you got.

It's likely they came from poverty or are enduring a financial loss at this moment in time. Since this person is hardworking and independent, I don't think you have anything to worry about - sadly or not, they're more than used to the weight of their shoulders.

Although they're not expressive with their emotions or thoughts, you can count on this person to be sincere. They seem heavily protected by something greater, something bigger. For most of you, this person is spiritual, but not religious. They're very private and you may have a hard time understanding them or figuring them out.

channeled words & songs: black and white, heavy as led, test of time, a drop of water, night of the soul, life path 7, seek solitude, "i'm always okay", read my mind by the killers, runaway horses, small towns.

quotes that remind me of this person

Tell me, Atlas. What is heavier: The world or its people's hearts? — Darshana Suresh.

I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses. — Friedrich Nietzsche.

Everywhere I go I find a poet has been there before me. — Sigmund Freud.

୨୧ PILE TWO

who is this person, deep down? five of swords ✧ the world ✧ the moon

Accomplished, but lonely. It's how this person feels as I shuffled. They have seen and known so much, but it came at the cost of their morals. This person holds many secrets - even from themselves. Nothing dark, but they do regret their ways at times. With how competitive and aggressive they can be, it's difficult for them to hold onto anything but their success.

They may be famous or well-known in some way. Renowned. A lawyer, a judge. Someone with a fair share of experience and authority in a certain field. But my God, how their words can hurt. Have you ever heard that the pen is mightier than the sword? Yeah, that's this person.

Even when they bask in the glory of being so accomplished, no one really knows this person. Not even themselves, as I said. They're scared of vulnerability, emotions and intimacy. They're scared of the things the Moon tries to show them: their deepest fears, the nightmares and past traumas they've tried to bury deep down.

Interestingly, despite the cards, I get heavy Aries energy. This person may be an Aries Moon, quite a complex placement to have. They're good at being logical and practical, good at the doing, at the speaking, but they don't have the time for people, for emotions... for friendship or family. Given their history, it's likely they shut themselves off from connections out of fear.

I don't think they're happy. They look happy, they look so beautiful, so otherworldly, but inside of them there's this urge for something else. Something more meaningful.

channeled words & songs: ambitchous, aries, sagittarius, "i want it i got it", "let my money talk", chest pains, life path 8 or 9, neon pink, overprotective, oh no! by marina, terrible love by the national, bank account.

quotes that remind me of this person

I live to succeed, not to please you or anyone else. — Marilyn Monroe.

My worst fear - that's anyone's worst fear - is to lose myself and become an empty person. And that happens a lot when you're very ambitious. — Marina Diamandis.

୨୧ PILE THREE

who is this person, deep down? two of pentacles ✧ the sun ✧ four of pentacles

What an interesting contradiction, it seems. The person on your mind is generous, extroverted and.. quite the busy bee. Their outer persona remind me of J-Hope from BTS, very caring and extroverted - someone who's got an infectious laugh, but despite his bubbly appearance, he's actually very caring and protective.

Although they may seen foolish, this person is anything but. They're quite careful and at times, intense. However, I don't think many people get to see this more serious and protective side of them. They seem guarded for the right reasons, because they know their heart is quite precious and too much of a good thing to be given away so easily.

It's possible they come off as brain-scattered or high maintenance to you, but they're genuine and one of their main purposes in life - whether they know it or not - is to bring joy to others. They're so good at it. It's not a party without this person, with or without alcohol, they know how to lighten up the mood and are an amazing team player.

It feels cheeky too. I think they like the dad jokes, the lighthearted atmosphere, but they know when to be serious. If I am to be honest, this person is an amazing partner (in case you're asking about a romantic interest) and an even more amazing friend. Someone who'll cheer you up and stick by your side through thick and thin. A very dear friend.

channeled words & songs: heart-shaped, light up a joint, weed, recreational drugs, easy breezy, life of the party by shawn mendes, 9 to 5, bisexual, lgbt+, rainbow, friend-shaped, dogs, cats, energetic, rap.

quotes that remind me of this person

The greatness of a man is not in how much wealth he acquires, but in his integrity and his ability to affect those around him positively.— Bob Marley.

You're only given a little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it. — Robin Williams.

Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always. — Unknown.

୨୧ PILE FOUR

who is this person, deep down? ace of cups ✧ ten of swords ✧ seven of cups ✧ the lovers

I feel like whoever you're asking about is in a brand new mode. They seem to be someone who was previously overburdened by their past. This person is in a major transformative phase, both physically and internally. They have endured so much, it's heartbreaking just thinking about it. I don't think they're very open about it though, at least, they weren't before.

Honestly, this person may have suffered from addiction, major losses or betrayal. They're getting back up after a period of darkness. Spirit's referencing their current phase more so than they actually are, because I believe they haven't yet fully come to really be who they are. They're shedding the person they had become, in order to be who they were meant to be.

They seek a new beginning, new friendships, good, better choices. It seems this path they're on has just begun, so they're a bit.. amazed at the options being offered. Still, this person wants to choose well for themselves and the people they love. They've regained a great love for the world. I feel filled with wonder, with enthusiasm for what's to come. Like anything and everything is possible.

Although they may seem immature, they've seen a lot. They've had to fight to survive through their worst and now, they're learning to let joy and love in. They've come to realize their power, the magic in who they are and learning to accept that this too shall pass. However, this person feels peaceful yet determined, broken yet healing, quite balanced in their aspects. A thinker and a feeler.

channeled words & songs: ego, healing, therapy, six of cups, innocence, yet to come by bts, mbti types, dancing in the dark by bruce springsteen, "a do-over", "maybe", shufflemancy, spiritual, 777, 333, psychedelics, hippie, hologram, offline, nature.

quotes that remind me of this person

I go to seek a Great Perhaps. That's why I'm going. So I don't have to wait until I die to start seeking a Great Perhaps. — John Green.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. — Steve Jobs.

I’ll rewrite this whole life and this time there’ll be so much love, you won’t be able to see beyond it. — Warsan Shire.

୨୧ PILE FIVE

who is this person, deep down? two of wands ✧ six of wands ✧ page of cups

A courageous, successful individual. This person has a lot of wanderlust. They are in love with life, in love with themselves, in love with the world. They like to be on the move, to party and be around other people they also admire.

However, they have an impulsive, non-committal side to them that is expressed mainly in the way they approach relationships, especially romantic wise. They have a fear of settling, so they're always on the go, on the search for the next best thing in every way. They may move a lot or have a different crush everyday. Although it isn't inherently bad, I think this person may come off as hard to pin down.

In reality, they're enthusiastic and ready to take on the world. They like the spotlight, they have big dreams too. It gives me Leo energy, in the way they love to be praised, to be adored. Depending on who you're asking, this may be polyamorous or they just enjoy being single and free. Many people describe this person as free-spirited and bold.

At times, their words and behaviors get the best of them. They're not good at keeping secrets and may have quite a temper when angered. They mean well, but there's a diva-like side to this person that can be egocentric or immature, since they've got a bit of a one track mind when it comes to their dreams. They're also very beautiful and they know it. It's also quite the ego boost to be around them - they love to give out compliments and flirt.

channeled words & songs: bisexual, "himbo", bucketlist, pinterest, clean girl era, "i want everything", poetry, interlude: shadow by bts, parallel universe, edm, party girl, wild, erratic, center of attention, instagram, social media influencer, blogger, barbie movie, hungry heart by bruce springsteen, rumors by ross lynch (this song started playing after i finished the section above! very relevant).

quotes that remind me of this person

If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days. — Sylvia Plath.

I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles. — Audrey Hepburn.

amourdivine 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content!

DISCLAIMER. tarot is a divination tool, it’s not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i don’t take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. be mindful ♡

#pick a card #tarotblr #tarot reading #pick a card reading #tarot #pac reading #divination #spirituality #tarot witch #witchblr #cartomancy #pick a pile #pick a pile reading #tarot pick a card #pick a picture #mine.

[tlou-reid]

nightmares ✰ spencer reid

warnings ✰ angst, fluff, nightmares, metions of drug use, addiction and tobias hankel, pregnant!wife!reader

summary ✰ spencer has a nightmare, but his biggest fear is hurting you

notes ✰ hi sorry for being ia i had no ideas and life has been crazy pls drop requests in the ask box so i know what to write thank you also this is not edited

the noises weren't what scared you; you were used to hearing spencer cry, whimper, and even yell in his sleep. you knew he had nightmares, you knew they were really vivid, and, sometimes, you even knew what they were about. but spencer didn't move in his sleep. he slept on his stomach, despite every medical journal telling him he was messing up his back. he slept with his arms up, tucked underneath his pillow. he naturally ran hot, so you always pushed him away before you two fell asleep.

but right now, his arms are thrashing around, his legs are kicking the blankets off, his head is tossing and turning. the noises leaving his mouth were not familiar to you, but that's not where your focus was. you know you should be helping him, but you can't bring yourself to. his movements were so violent, so hysterical. you moved as quick as you could, using your arms to push you up and attempting to swing your legs over the side of the bed. once you were standing, your arms flew down to your pregnant stomach. you weren't trying to protect yourself, but rather your and spencer's son. you knew he would never hurt you, or your baby, but spencer was asleep. he was not in control.

you found your footing, balancing on the nightstand next to you. you turned your head to look at spencer's body, he was in the center of your shared bed now.

"spencer!" you yelled, trying to wake him up. you reached towards hum, accidentally pushing over one of the framed pictures from your wedding. it landed on the floor with a loud shattering of glass. spencer's arms stilled at the sound. his head turned to face you with a grimace on his face. "what was that? are you okay?" he hurriedly asked.

the complete 360 from his sleeping behavior to how he was asking how that he was awake almost gave you whiplash. he moved to your side of the bed, but his movements stopped when his eyes met your face. you were not aware of the way your face paled or how your eyebrows were raised. you hadn't noticed the way you cowered closer to the wall, putting protective arms around your baby bump.

spencer couldn't think straight. he was still seeing the vivid images of his nightmare, but the loud crash had woke him up. he was afraid you were hurt, that something had happened and you got caught in the middle of it. but you were afraid of him. he could tell by the way you were looking at him. "what did i do?" he asked, with a low voice.

"are you okay?" was your answer. you didn't mean to be afraid of him, it wasn't even him you were really afraid of. his movements had just scared you. his eyes welled up with tears at your question. he was not okay, and you were scared of him because of it. he moved to sit up. "it was a nightmare, i don't know what happened. i didn't mean to hurt you or break anything."

"spence," your voice softened as you moved out of your position, opening your arms to him. "you didn't do anything wrong. your body was moving, heavily, like you were fighting something. i didn't want you to accidentally hit me so i got up. i was trying to reach out to you to wake you up and i knocked over the photo of us. i'm sorry."

he pulled you into his lap, burying his head into your neck. he was still crying as you reached up to run your hands through his hair. you weren't sure if he was crying because of his nightmare or because he was scared of you being hurt. or both. "do you want to talk about it?" you asked softly.

he nodded as he moved his head out of the crook of your neck. you could feel the tears sliding down it. "it was a nightmare," he started, "and we had him, we had the baby. we were home, you were cooking dinner when the door opened. it was tobias." you were not around during the time of tobias hankel, but you knew of him. you knew the pain and suffering he caused. you knew how he changed spencer. at the mention of his name, you pulled spencer closer, reassuring him that you were there.

"i did everything i could, i fought so hard," spencer cried harder, "but he got you. he killed you and went for the baby. he didn't kill, he" spencer stopped for a second, "he injected him." he finished. spencer knew the pain of addiction. he knew how bad it can hurt not only the user, but the people around him. you hugged spencer for a long time. you didn't know what to say, so you just held him. when you pulled away, you placed his hand on your stomach.

"we're both right here. safe. in our home, with no one else." he had stopped crying at this point and was looking you in your eyes. he nodded and then pressed a kiss to cheek. "so let's go get something to eat. our son wants ice cream." you smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

you knew it worked when spencer laughed a little, "for breakfast?"

"obviously."

#spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds blurb

[starker-raving-mads]

For You: Part I

This is for @spiderlinging who decided this level of angst needed to exist.

Have thoughts on a follow up, unsure if I'll do it.

Edit: decided to make this multi-parted.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX

›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹

It had been a week since the last battle with Thanos. A week since the Blipped had returned everyone, a week since Peter awoke to Dr. Strange leading him through a portal straight into battle.

A week since Tony died.

It's all Peter can think about. The only thing he can think about. Not how traumatizing two battles back to back was, not the chaos and insanity of war, not even of how happy he should be that May and Ned and MJ are actually okay.

Instead, it's Tony, Tony, Tony. His thoughts had revolved around the older man for years now, so it wasn't new. But normally it was excitement, arousal, anticipation, joy. Now, though, it's hugging him as he felt like he was being ripped apart by the Blip. The joy of finding him and being dragged to him in a fierce hug, mid-battle, the billionaire's hands running through his hair. His voice, soft and full of this sort of grieving happiness.

"Peter," he'd said, "oh god, Peter."

And finally it was Mr. Stark's face as he sat dazed against a piece of wreckage amidst the chaos. How blank his eyes were, how little of the man was left, barely hanging on.

That face haunted his dreams, the emptiness filling up his nightmares.

And now here he was, at a lake house he could've never seen Tony living in, with people around him crying and mournful. Like they'd lost a friend when Peter felt like he'd lost a limb. Like his whole heart was being shoved out onto that lake with the last part of Tony Stark he'd ever get to see. Behind him, Happy was talking quietly to Morgan, Tony's kid - Peter's goddaughter, apparently.

He never knew you could make a dead person a godparent before, but there's a lot of things Peter never knew.

Like the thing is - Peter thought he knew grief, knew loss. His parents when he was a kid, Uncle Ben just after he'd gotten his powers. These were huge, space-taking people in his soul but losing Tony? Losing Tony was worse than anything he'd ever experienced before. He felt bad about it, sometimes. Because shouldn't his family have been the ones that meant the most, hurt the most? But then again, Tony had been everything. He'd always sort of thought he loved Tony in the way someone might love an idol, like his feelings were somehow offset by hero worship and being a teenager but it was so much more than that.

It might've started off that way, but after years of knowing him, being his friend through tough times and glad ones - it morphed along the way without him really noticing it. Got deeper, got more meaningful with every lab session and every time Tony said, "Just stay the night kid, you know where your room is. Aunt Hottie doesn't need to be woken up at 3AM with you coming home anyway."

The teen thought he'd cried every ounce of pain from him in the week since the battle, but as his eyes misted up again, he turned and headed around the back of the cabin. It was empty of people on this side and he slid down in the corner where the porch extruded out of the building. Hands covering his face, barely aware of the rotting, damp leaves under him. He just needed a minute to get it together. Just one minute and he'd -

A sound of footsteps approaching, light ones, made him stand back up again and wipe his face free of tears. He knew from experience that his eyes would be a horrible red against how pale his skin was, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Around the corner came Pepper in her funeral clothes, looking at him blankly. It was clear she'd been looking for him but he couldn't figure out why. They just stared at each other for a second, neither moving, and as the moments ticked on he got increasingly uncomfortable and awkward around this powerhouse of a woman he'd never really spent time with.

"Sorry, I just needed to step away for a - "

"He did it because of you, you know," she said, voice as neutral as her face. He blinked at her.

"I'm sorry, what - ?"

"He did it for you." And there was the anger. Her face transformed with it, skin flushing a red that clashed with her hair in a way that was still, somehow, beautiful. It was easy to see why Tony picked her out of everyone. Before he could say anything, she continued. "He told me," she said, tears clouding her voice, nose stuffing up with emotion, "that he'd figured it out. Figured out how to save everyone."

She laughed and it was the most hateful sound he'd ever heard. Shaking her head, smiling in a way that said 'fed up', she said, "But I knew. I knew he didn't do it to be the savior of humanity. His ego was always big, and he was always willing to sacrifice if he thought the price was worth it." She stopped again and stared at him, face contorting.

"He saved a lot of people," Peter agreed, spidey-sense screaming at him and he didn't know why. Every hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he felt like he was being bombarded. It was nauseating.

"He didn't save people, Peter," she screeched, stomping toward him, hand fisted around a cloth handkerchief, finger pointing at his face. "Tony's ego was always enough to think he could save the world," she continued, voice as mad as a wolf's growl, "but he didn't do it for them. He did it for you." She hissed out, "He kept your picture in the kitchen and just stared at it - all the time! Stared at it like you were some missing part of him and if he just looked long enough you'd reappear." She laughed again, rolling her eyes.

Behind her, a crowd was appearing. Sam and Bucky first, eyes scoping out the situation like the heroes they were. Then Happy, peaking around. The other teenager - Harley, Peter remembered - was further back, near the trees, watching with a ducked face, riveted.

"Tony saved the universe," she agreed, voice even more watery. "But he didn't do it for them - he did it for you." She had moved forward enough now to jab her finger into his chest. "He could've killed everyone with his stupid time travel bullshit," she spat, jabbing harder. "He could've undone reality with it, he could've made it to where Morgan never existed." She sobbed and the anger started to drain from her, head bending. "But it didn't matter as long as he got you back." She sobbed again and as much as his heart was rending itself atom by atom by what she was saying, he couldn't fault her anger, her rage, her sadness.

He stepped forward and she dropped onto him, letting him hold her weight up as she continued to sob.

"He did it for you."

And Peter had never heard anything worse in his entire, fucked up existence.

How was he ever going to live with himself now, knowing this.

How?

#ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #starker #tony stark x peter parker #iron man #peter x tony #peter parker #spiderman #tony stark #pepper potts #tony stark x pepper potts #angst #no beta we die like men #for you fic

[inarizqkis]

pillow talk ㅡ l.k.

summary! in which leon wakes up to find you gone.

warnings! angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, leon had a nightmare, u have insomnia (ME), comfort, slight derealization, ooc leon

notes! THIS ISNT AS ANGSTY AS THE SUMMARY SAYS I PROMISE,, u guys should listen to hojean hes so cool and funny his music is so fire too ‼️‼️ also leon is my bbg 😍

edit: i tagged this wrong mb guys 😭 i was half asleep when i posted it LMAO

fem aligned/identifying dni

reblogs are appreciated! enjoy :)

leon looked for you everywhere. he felt like he was running in circles with how tired he was, but finally he found you. before he could get to you, the floor gave out, and you fell. before you could fall, leon grabbed your hand, trying desparately to pull you up, but you were slipping. he couldn't hear anything, not even his own words. it was dead silent, and it freaked him out.

'leon, it's okay.' he saw you mouth, and let go of his hand. shaking his hand, he grabbed your wrist tighter, and as fit as he was physically, it was like his arms were made of jelly. he was unable to lift you back up, and watched as you fell down, sobbing.

leon shot up in a cold sweat, panting heavily, tears gathering in his eyes before he wiped them away. he looked around the dim bedroom, only your light had been turned on, and he looked for you around the room. not seeing you in bed, he got up, his heart beating fast.

"babe..? where are you?" leon called out, searching the whole house for you, nearly in hysterics, looking on the balcony before you had stopped him, putting your hands on his shoulders gently.

"leon? what's going on, is everything alright?" you had asked worriedly, and leon sighed in relief, wrapping his arms around you, burying his head into your shoulder. you furrowed your brows, concerned, returning the hug gently.

"i.. i thought you-" leon sniffled, trying not to cry, eyes slightly watering. it was rare for him to be like this, so you just let him let it out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly.

"shh, shh, it's okay, just calm down, leon." you murmured, and he squeezed you tighter, afraid you would disappear, taking deep breaths.

"you.. i had this dream, and then when i woke up, you were gone.. i thought it.." leon explained, calming down slowly as he pulled away to look at you, eyes flitting over you; unable to focus on one thing, he was just making sure you were okay. his thick eyelashes were clumped together with tears and he was still unsure if this was real, flashes of his dream appearing in intervals.

"no baby, i'm right here. always." you reassured, combing through his hair gently, looking into his eyes. you took his calloused hand into yours, pressing your palms flat together.

"see? look, leon. remember what we practiced?" you said, and leon nodded, his breathing slowing down and his fingers gently intertwined with yours, squeezing your hand gently, wanting to be sure for himself you weren't just a figment of his imagination.

"thank you.." leon replied, now calmer, not as panicked as he was a few minutes ago. you smiled, kissing his hand gently, and led him back to the bedroom, while he followed you like a puppy.

"are you okay?" you asked softly, rolling to the side and turning off the dim light. he nodded, laying on your chest, still holding your hand.

"yeah.. i think so." leon mumbled, so quietly you had to strain to hear it. you kissed his head gently, your thumb rubbing his hand gently.

the two of you layed there until the sun rose, and you continued to lay there when leon fell asleep once more, combing your fingers through his blonde hair.

all rights reserved © inarizqkis 2023. do not repost, rewrite, or translate.

#Spotify #x male reader #m!reader #oneshot #male reader #inarizqkis #reqs open #resident evil #resident evil x male reader #leon kennedy x male reader #re4 leon #re4 remake

[bringbacktim]

Anal? No one's doing anal

I'm having a Jschlatt brainrot rn so expect more imagines than anyone wants , feel free to request anything

Synopsis: schlatt and y/n are putting together a desk , but it sounds inappropriate to Charlie outside the room , he gets worried like any friend would

Warnings:mentions of anal , hurt , sexual intercourse, innuendos, a whole lot of whacky stuff , not proofread or edited

Word count: 806 words

The only things that charlie could hear from the outside of the OTK office/filming room were things that would definitely give him nightmares and make him avoid Schlatt and Y/n for the foreseeable future

Who said I can't put this fucking thing in that hole " schlatt said practically shouting out of anger

"Me ! , for the hundredth time it shouldn't go there no matter how much you ask" his girlfriend answered

"Tell me that doesn't look like it'll fit in there"

"I am not turning around , I know I'm right . Now hurry up before Charlie or Ted get back"

Charlie was torn between making some loud noise and hoping they'd stop whatever they sound like they're doing or running away and never speaking to them again

He did neither out of pure terror and instead pulled out his phone to text Ted to see if this was some skit or some prank they were playing or whether they were actually doing that in the studio where they filmed

'Hey dude, do you know what Y/n and Shclatt are doing in the studio?' He texted simply not bothering to beat around the bush

'Anal by the sounds of it , but I have no clue, didn't want to know to be honest'

Charlie really didn't want the first bit to be true , especially since he was only there to hold one of the cameras while they filmed stuff . He was getting way more than he bargained for

'Gross , don't joke about that or it'll come true' he replied a grimace on his face

'They've been at it for a solid half hour , they should be done soon don't worry man'

'Don't worry man ? You clearly aren't hearing this' charlie scoffed at Ted's audacity

'I escaped with minimal trauma thankfully' he could feel Ted's smugness through the screen

'And you didn't think to take me with you?'

'Didn't know if they wanted you to film it'

'You're disgusting nivison' and with that he put his phone back in his pocket and tried to plan what he was going to do next

"I fucking told you that wouldn't fit, are you done trying yet ?"

"It's going to fit I don't care what you say you god damn bitch"  at that charlie knew he had to do something for the safety of his friends

So he did what anyone would do and knocked on the door rather harshly to make sure he was heard

"Yeah , uh kinda busy" He heard y/n say

"I know you guys are in love , but that's a recording room . Also are you okay ?"

"Yeah fine just pissed at this furniture" schlatt admitted

"Schlatt!" Y/n said scolding him

"Are you both decent? Can I come in?"

"Yeah why wouldn't we be" they both simultaneously spoke

The situation he opened the door to was definitely not what he was expecting, but in a good way

They were just trying to put a new coffee table together to replace the one Schlatt broke in the previous recording

"Oh thank god" Charlie said with a hand over his heart as he breathed a sigh of relief "we thought you were doing anal"

"Anal? No one's doing anal , I'm not allowed to anymore" that comment earned him a firm slap to the chest

"Please stop talking, for my sake" charlie begged

At that charlie showed them the texts him and Ted had sent and they put the pieces together

"Oh charlie I'm so sorry you heard that , we just wanted to surprise you with the new coffee table before the next video" y/n apologised to her friend as her boyfriend loudly laughed next to her

"That's so fucking funny man , how did we not realise" he said wiping a tear from his eye "you look so terrified man" he said still laughing and using Charlie's shoulder as a stabilizer

"Is that why ted left?" Y/n asked shocked that everyone thought they were doing such a thing "this is so embarrassing and it's all your fault" she said pointing at her boyfriend who broke the table in the first place

"You have to admit that it's kinda funny" he said turning to face his girlfriend as Charlie called Ted and told him he can come back

"Charlie has the worst luck when it comes to us" she said sympathy evident in her voice "remember when he walked in on us in Ted's bathroom at that party"

"Be thankful it was him and not Ted" this earned him a middle finger in his direction

"What a wacky day it's been" Ted said entering the room they all were in

"You haven't been here for half of it " charlie accused as they chatted about what to film next

#schlatt x reader #schlatt #charlie slimecicle x reader #ted nivison #mcyt tag #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt imagines #jschlatt smut

[strawberry-cowmilk]

How would tge brothers react if MC accidently got turned into a toddler (because of a forbidden book or Solomon did a mistake or something)

Hi! Thank you for waiting, here it is! I hope it's okay

the brothers when mc turns into a toddler

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

content warnings: mc being a difficult child (or your average toddler idk), mild violence (??), it's implied solomon did something in most parts

-----

Lucifer

lucifer was listening to music in peace when a very panicked looking mammon barged in holding a small child that looked suspiciously like you

he decided he's going to destroy solomon later after mammon explained what happened, for now he has to keep a whole baby you entertained

he tries to occupy you with a stuffed animal while he figures out a spell or something to turn you back

Mammon

he was working on a rad assignment with you and solomon when things went wrong

mammon tries to get solomon to fix it but he slowly loses his mind when nothing works

sure you're cute but please stop trying to drink the potions in the rad classroom

he even tried to distract you by letting you watch movies on his phone

eventually mammon calls lucifer for help while he's finally gotten you to take a nap

Leviathan

levi absolutely panics what is he supposed to do with a human toddler? a video game only distracts you for 5 minutes

he screams when you go near his limited edition figures (little baby you thinks that's funny so you keep doing it and stressing the poor man out)

eventually levi takes you to somebody who knows how to look after a child, like maybe satan or simeon (but then he feels bad for you so he gets you back and lets you play games)

Satan

one time satan read a book in a cursed library that turned him into a toddler so he's not that worried when you turn into one

it only took him a few hours to turn back, so as long as he can keep you occupied and safe for a while it's all okay

but no book about toddlers could prepare him for this, why do you keep trying to climb the bookshelf when he's told you not to 10 times?

anyways those were the longest hours of his life trying to keep you alive

Asmodeus

he knows eventually the day something goes very wrong comes when you spend too much time with solomon

asmo decided to look after you so solomon can hurry up and fix his mess

he thought you were sweet, so he took you to the mall to pass some time but he ended up losing you 3 times (cue stressed asmo running around a mall trying to find a tiny human)

when you're back to normal you will hear about this

Beelzebub

beel is not happy this happened but you're so cute, he'll gladly look after you while somebody finds a spell to reverse this

he is literally like that one grandmother that spoils the grandchild with every candy under the sun

sadly for beel, human toddlers can get a lot of energy from too much sugar and he did not know that information

he took a nap longer than belphie's average nap after you were back to normal

Belphegor

belphie did not expect a baby human to be this much work

he thought you'd get them to sleep and that's it but getting toddlers to be near a bed is a whole challenge

eventually belphie didn't know what to do anymore so he just put you in front of the tv

after it's all over he actually makes solomon dream a pretty nasty nightmare to get back at him

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #asmodeus obey me #belphegor obey me #beelzebub obey me #gn!mc

[eywathemother]

Fish Lips Chapter 9

Ship: Aonung x Kiri's twin sister!Reader

Warnings: Language, bullying, gore, fighting, talk of war, injury and blood, slow burn, enemies to lovers (not really a warning just some people don't like that trope), death of (a) character(s), not proofread, mentions of reader being depressed

Words: 1,901 (kinda short sorry)

Keys: (y/n) = your name,,(y/i/n) = your Ikran's name,, Neural Queue= the braid extension of a Navi's nervous system that allows them to link up to animals and Eywa,, (y/n/n) = your nickname),, Bold is English,, Italic is sign language,,Bold italics is when you're communicating with Kiri,,

Chapters; Introduction || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Part 10 ||

My taglist is wack ass hell so I won't be doing taglist requests anymore. It takes me about half an hour to update the taglist as well, so it's more time consuming then I originally thought.

Spoilers for Avatar: The Way of Water A whole ass lot.

Special dt: @k1rislov3r

This is mainly a filler chapter so apologies if it's a bit dry, I'm trying to go into as much detail with the reader and her life so that the plot makes more sense. Also, I FINALLY CAUGHT UP TO MY CLASSES SO I CAN FOLLOW MY POSTING SCHEDULE, YAYYYY!!!! Thank you guys for your patience, I really appreciate it.

I did delete the original chapter for this so the sneak peek I posted was for the old chapter, this is the final cut for the chapter so it's completely different than what I posted. The reason why It took so long for me to post today was because I was editing mama Neytiri *smirking intensely*. Also, my brain is still fried, and I start more classes tomorrow so....I'm crying internally.

You hadn't gone to sleep until an hour before sunrise, so you were exhausted to say the least. Jake was okay with you sleeping in some more for rest, but Neytiri countered, you needed to do your chores and you had said the night before you would watch Tuk. Kiri was going to assist Ronal and Neytiri in Tsahik-training and the brothers were joining a hunt with Aonung and Rotxo earlier in the morning.

Neytiri was upset with your reckless decision to stay up so late but she had promised Kiri would be done by lunch so you could take a nap. You had been struggling with nightmares, you had no idea what they meant, and you refused to talk about them. Even Kiri was clueless to your nightmares.

Kiri didn't think you'd hide anything from her, as you both promised to always share everything, and it was very difficult to hide anything from each other. You held your end of the promise... somewhat, you didn't want to worry her or anyone, so you hid it.

You couldn't even turn to Eywa for help, as you couldn't even properly connect to the tree. Mo'at thought it was a sign from Eywa for some greater purpose for you in life, but Norm thought it was something to do with the malfunctioning of your Neural Queue. He explained that the Avatar's body is not as fully functioning as a Na'vi body at times, and you could've unluckily gotten some sort of mutant gene from the human DNA that didn't allow your Neural Queue to work the same as others. It was odd though, you had no issue connecting to animals, just connecting to any trees related to Eywa.

You had tried before, the farthest you had gotten to connecting to Eywa was a white room of sorts. Nothing but you, the brightness of the white around you, and the echos of your voice begging for someone to respond.

That was the day the nightmares had begun, depicting war and violence, filling you with nothing but anger and hatred towards the sky people. On occasions even towards Jake, who you had lashed out at saying to him he was nothing but ' a disgusting alien bringing violence and war wherever he went.' Of course, you apologized and got heavily grounded afterwards, but Neytiri was beginning to worry that the lack of connection you had with Eywa was starting to affect you.

You tried not to let it affect you too much, you tried not to stress over things way beyond your control.

As of now you had your head rested in your hands, sitting crisscross with your elbow resting on your knee. Tuk was playing in the water, looking at surrounding coral and observing the fish.

You tail wagged a bit, moving lazily over the rock you were sitting on. You hear footsteps next to you, several people calling out your name.

" (y/n)!!" Lo'ak was the first to make his way to you, Tuk turning to him with." Hi Lo'ak!" She smiled before a yellow-ish green fish caught her attention; she immediately went back to observing the waters.

" Where's Neteyam?" You asked, your ears perked up at his presence, watching as he plopped himself next to you. He pointed towards the beach." He, Rotxo, and Aonung were right behind me, I don't know where they went though. Don't really care either." He shrugged, placing his feet in the water.

"Oh." You yawned, you were trying your best to stay awake but you knew you'd pass out soon." Hey, do you mind watching Tuk for a little bit?" You asked Lo'ak and he gave you a side eye. He wasn't happy about it but he knew something was bothering you and keeping you up so of course he wasn't going to be apathic towards you and keep you from sleep.

" Yeah sure, be here before dinner though. Mom will be upset if you're not back by then." You nodded and stood up, stretching your body from being in the same position for almost half an hour.

Normally your napping routine included flying (y/i/n) to a random and secluded area and napping together until it was time to head back. That or you let her fly freely through the air as you napped on her back.

This time you wanted to be alone, you currently didn't want to be around anyone or anything. You just wanted to lie down someplace and just sleep. Hopefully dreamless.

You made your way into the woods, not bothering to really watch where you're going, just trying to stay on your feet. You wanted to lay yourself on the ground floor of Pandora and just listen to the heartbeat that echoed from within the empty-feeling heart of Eywa. Your true mother, you may not be able to connect to her with your braid, but you didn't need to.

You could hear her silent comforting words within the wind, whispering in your ear words of encouragement that had never left your parents lips. Your feet carried you across the Earthy flooring of the walkway towards the denser part of the forest. The mother trees, the children, all of their silent voices being carried by the cool breeze.

The sound of the ocean's waves hitting the beach slowly vanished as your ears focused on listening to the birds and rustling of the trees. The longer you listened the more you tried to think of it as the Jungle's trees rustling or the animals singing.

You missed your home, and you will miss it as long as you remained on this planet. You were slowly falling into a depression, missing your home, your people... your family. It wasn't the type of sadness to make you cry, but the sadness that put a hole in your chest and made you feel empty. The Jungle was a part of you, and you missed it terribly.

You laid down on a patch of grass, running your hand over the blades of grass. Feeling the edges of the plant tickle your palm and the tips of your fingers. A comforting warmth drifted over you, the wind dying down as you closed your eyes and listened to the breath of the planet. You slowly began to drift, finally being able to rest.

Red. Orange. Yellow. Fire.

Surrounding you, ingulfing you but it didn't burn. It was like the rage of the flames understood you and you understood it. War almost feeling natural and like your second nature. You felt nothing as you cut through the humans like their life meant nothing to you.

It didn't, you could care less about these murderous and destructive aliens from afar. You wanted them dead, you wanted all of them to disappear. You weren't just angry, or rageful, you were vengeful. You were going to give them what they had given you, you were going to make them feel how you felt as you watched your friends and loved ones die for a fight that would never have happened if it weren't for them.

If it weren't for Jake Sully, HE started this, HE is the reason you are all on the run. Why didn't he just kill them all, why did he let them go back home in one piece. You would've shredded them until they weren't even recognizable, showed them to Eywa, your beloved mother that you would protect her at all costs.

These weren't your thoughts; you would never think this way of your father. What was this dream, who was this unrecognizable being?

You jolted awake, beads of sweat running down your face and tears sprung to your eyes. You hated these feelings, they were so foreign like they weren't even yours, but in a way comforting. You wanted to deny them but, on some level, you knew that you agreed with them.

You stood up and headed your way to a small stream nearby. You splashed water onto your face, wiping the tears from your eyes and staring at your reflection in the water.

You stood up, looking around realizing how late it was. It was way past Eclipse. You ran hand through your hair and drew a breath preparing to be grounded again. This was what? Your third or fourth time breaking a rule or causing trouble. Honestly you didn't care, at this point it'll happen at least every week.

You heard footsteps approaching you and you spun around on your feet in alert. Aonung appeared, he blinked a bit in surprise and then grinned." You have some awesome hearing, I thought I was being sneaky."

You rolled your eyes." You stomp, there's no way you could survive in the woods with those." You pointed at his feet, and he grumbled under his breath." My feet are not that big." He protested, placing a hand on his hip, his ears back in annoyance.

A small silence broke out, and you tried your best to keep your normal aggravating smirk placed on your lips. Aonung could see past it though, he paid enough attention to tell that you were not doing so well. He didn't watch you or anything, he was just very aware and constantly read people. Maybe at times he would watch you with someone and pick up on your mannerisms more than he would with anyone else, but so what you were his friend.

Well...friends a stretch still.

" What's wrong?" He asked, he might not be the best at comforting, but he was willing to try. You brushed him off." Your presence always seems to dampen my mood, have you not noticed?" You teased but he didn't return your teasing.

" I'm serious, whatever's bothering you, you can tell me." Aonung placed himself in front of you and placed a kind hand on your shoulder. Your shoulders tensed and your jaw tightened, the smirk falling off your face for a split second.

" Now what's got you all tinder hearted your big teddy bear!" You pinched the side of his ribs lightly and he instinctively pulled away." What? What is a t-eddy barer??" You slapped a hand over your mouth giggling at his terrible English." Did you just insult me? It is one of those human insults, isn't it?"

Your worries and bad dreams disappeared instantly, Aonung unintentionally brightened your day-or rather night. Speaking of night, you needed to hurry and get back to your families Marui. You looked towards the path that led you back to the beach.

" Don't worry, it's not as late as it seems, just after dinner. Lo'ak and I covered for you so you're fine." He gave you his charming smile, the calmest you've ever seen him be. You grinned, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and dragging him closer to you." You know...I kinda like you a bit now."

" Just a bit?" He teased and he placed a hand on your other shoulder. You put your other hand up and put your pointer finger and thumb almost touching." Just a smidge."

" So does that mean I've finally won you over?" He asked, his tone was light and teasing but he was asking an actual question he's been dying to bring up." Won me over? Hell no!" You shook your head." I'm not gonna be friends with you that easily, you have to do something biiiig." You exaggerated and he rolled his eyes, he should've known he wasn't going to get a real answer out of you.

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[randomwelcomehomestuff]

Unfinished Business: a Welcome Home Corpse Puppet AU fanfiction

A/N: Just here to let you know that I'm not creative. Like, at all. This is a fanfic of a fanfic inspired by a fan-made AU of a completely unrelated work, but I couldn't get it out of my head so maybe now my brain will be at peace so I can work on my original story (or it will come up with fifty other fanfic ideas because that's more fun than editing).

Anyway, Welcome Home belongs to Clown/partycoffin, the Corpse Puppet AU belongs to @sketchquill, and the fanfic this is based on is a Corpse Bride/Nightmare Before Christmas crossover fic called The Undead Groom by moviefan_92 on Ao3.

Spoiler Alert for all of that media, plus a little for the novel The Pumpkin Queen just because there's a reference here and there, but not too much.

Also C/W: There's a lot of major character death in here.

I may add more to it later if inspiration strikes. Let me know in the comments if you are interested in that.

Okay, I'll shut up, now. Here's the fic.

The carriage jostled down the muddy dirt road. You wrung the handkerchief in your hands as you gazed out the window at the grey sky, occasionally distracted by the raindrops trailing down the glass. Try as you might, you just couldn't cry. You wanted to, but no tears would come.

At least the dreary weather was appropriate for a funeral.

Howdy was watching you. He wasn't one to judge his spouse's appearance, but he did decide that funeral black did not suit you particularly well. Not when he'd seen you in so many other bright, cheerful colors, when you had been happy. When you were like this—mourning—the sparkle in your eyes was gone. He thought you were beautiful when you were happy, somehow still hauntingly so when you were sad, but he would be lying if he said he didn't prefer seeing you smile or laugh.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “I know you and Eddie were close.”

You sighed. “I'll be fine. This isn't my first time dealing with grief.”

Yes, Howdy knew that all too well. The first several days of your marriage had been more awkward than they probably should have been for... obvious reasons. Any time he caught you staring despondently out the window, he knew deep down that you were thinking of Wally.

That didn't have a negative impact on your marriage, though. You were strong and optimistic, and Howdy shared many happy memories with you. You taught him how to play piano, and he in turn taught you how to garden. You even started a small orchard together. Howdy couldn't think of many more signs of a happy home than the smell of apple blossoms in the garden and hallways filled with the sounds of music and laughter. You were comfortable, and your fortunes were secure, (that was the most important thing to both of your parents, and neither of you could ask for much more than your parents' satisfaction).

Most of all, you and Howdy loved each other. Howdy had accepted long ago that yours was a love built off of friendship and mutual respect rather than romance, but it was enough for him, (considering what he grew up witnessing from his parents, he counted that as the greatest success of them all). You recently celebrated your copper anniversary, which baffled Howdy. How could seven years fly by so quickly? Thinking back on everything, he knew that he was completely satisfied with where his life was, as long as you were by his side and happy.

Which is why he hated to see you so sad. He wouldn't rush you through your grief, but he could at least help lighten the load. “Would you like to talk about it?” he asked.

You looked down at the handkerchief in your hands, wadded up beyond recognition, but still as dry as it was when Howdy handed it to you. You smoothed it out over your lap and stared at Howdy's initials embroidered in green in the corner.

Howdy watched you, patient. A deep rumble of thunder rolled through the sky outside.

“I just... hate how somber it was,” you said.

“Funerals typically are.”

“I know, but Eddie wouldn't have wanted that. He was so much more cheerful and... and colorful than that. He'd want people telling funny stories about him and celebrating his life, not... just standing in silence while the dirt is thrown over his casket.” Your shoulders stiffened. “I should have said something.” Now you could feel the tears building up, but they simply would not come. I should be crying. Why am I not crying?

Howdy leaned forward and took your hand, and you finally looked into his eyes. He was smiling. “He's in a better place, now.”

You smiled at that. Seven years ago, those words would have felt like a hollow attempt at consolation, but now they were a real comfort. Howdy was there when the dead came up to the Land of the Living. He witnessed Eddie and Frank briefly reunite. Now they would never be separated again, and he knew it as well as you did.

Perhaps that was why you couldn't cry: you knew that good things were waiting for Eddie on the other side.

The tears finally spilled over and rolled down your cheeks, but they were not tears of sorrow. You were happy.

Howdy used two of his free hands to cup your face. His smile was soft and understanding as he thumbed away your tears. You stood and shifted over to the seat across from you so you could sit beside him, and his four arms wrapped you up into a tight hug. He pressed a kiss into the top of your head, like he had so many times before. “Everything will be alright,” he whispered.

“I know,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

Lightning flashed outside, followed by a loud clap of thunder. You gripped at Howdy's coat as he leaned forward to look out the window. “That storm is getting much worse.”

“Should we stop somewhere?” you asked.

He nodded. “Most likely.” He reached up to knock on the ceiling of the coach. “Johnson? How are the roads looking?” he called.

Johnson, the driver, shouted something back to Howdy, but his voice was drowned out by a deafening crash. A blinding white light flooded the carriage and the horses whinnied outside in terror. You tried to lean forward to look out the window, but the horses bolted and the momentum sent you crashing to the floor of the coach. You could hear Johnson yelling. Howdy grabbed your arm and tried to haul you back into the seat, but when you looked out the window, what you saw made you freeze.

Lightning had struck a nearby tree. It was on fire. Johnson seemed to have lost the reins, because you could see them flapping in the wind by the window. Howdy was calling your name. Johnson was screaming at the horses to stop.

The carriage was passing the flaming tree right as it started to crackle and groan.

You jumped back into the seat and grabbed Howdy. One of his hands grasped the back of your head and his body tensed around you as if he was bracing himself.

It only took a few seconds—three at most—but it felt like an eternity.

Wood splintered around you as the carriage shattered. A heavy weight came down on you and Howdy, and for a brief, macabre moment, you were amazed by how fragile your bodies really were.

Then everything went black.

There was nothing but darkness for a long time. You tried to move, tried to call out for Howdy, but nothing happened. You were just... nothing.

That thought scared you. There was so much more than that. Light. Color. Noises and smells. Life. You couldn't be nothing, that just wasn't possible. You had memories and goals. You had a spouse and a family. You had an estate to attend to you. You couldn't just... not be.

Panic twisted your stomach into knots, clawed its way up your throat, and came out of your mouth as a scream: “Help! Help me!”

“Alright, alright! Calm down!”

You stopped. That voice sounded familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on who it was.

Then you heard another, timid voice. “Is it always like this?”

That one you did recognize, because you had just heard it a few days ago. It was Eddie. Your instinct was to gasp, but you couldn't. I can't breathe. Oh, God, I can't breathe.

The first voice spoke again: “Often, yes. It all depends on the person and how at peace they are.”

There was a shuffling nearby. It was odd, despite the panic coursing through you, your body was strangely... calm. You expected your heart to be thumping fast and heavy in your ears and for your palms to be sweaty, but there was nothing.

The space above you shifted with a low creak and light stabbed your eyes. You flinched, blinked, then stared at the two faces above you blurring into focus.

Eddie and Frank were leaned over, looking down at you. They both offered you sad, soft smiles.

Your neck was stiff as you looked around. Your were laying in some sort of bed. It wasn't comfortable; even though it was all silk, there was no cushion, and the pillow at your head was much too small. Your mind was sluggish like you had just woken from a long nap. You had to blink several times and crane your neck to the left before you realized that Frank was holding open a lid.

You were in a casket.

Your tongue felt like cement in your mouth as you stammered, “Am... am I d-dead?”

Eddie gave you a pitying look. “Oh, Y/N.”

“Come on,” Frank said, “the sooner you get on your feet, the better you'll feel.” He and Eddie grabbed you under your arms and hoisted you out of the casket, which was sitting on a table. They helped you find your footing and Frank instructed you through some stretches to shake off the rigor mortis. You took a moment to look around.

You were in a sort of cavern, full of other caskets sitting on tables. Some looked new, others old and decayed.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“The Land of the Dead. Specifically, an offshoot of our village, just below the graveyard where you were buried,” Frank said.

You felt dizzy. “So... the crash... I didn't make it.”

Eddie put his hand on your shoulder. “No one made it except the driver. When the tree fell, he got thrown off, but he survived. Poor man blames himself for what happened. Thinks he should have kept better hold of the reins or suggested you leave sooner to avoid the storm.” He squeezed your shoulder. “They say you and Howdy died in each other's arms.”

“Howdy...” Your stomach was churning and you wondered if you could still get sick even if you were dead.

Eddie nodded. “Frank had to break a couple of rules, but we went to the Land of the Living to see your funeral—”

“From a safe distance, of course,” Frank interrupted.

“Of course. Your parents spared no expense. They got you a big, beautiful gravestone and there were flowers everywhere. You and Howdy were buried next to each other in the outfits you got married in.”

You glanced down at yourself for the first time and realized he was right, you were wearing the outfit your mother had picked out for your wedding, complete with your wedding band on your left hand.

Not only that, but you were also wearing the other wedding band on your right hand. Wally's wedding band. It was the same ring Wally had worn all those years ago, after you had practiced your vows in the woods. You ended up keeping it for myself since Howdy's mother insisted that you purchase new rings for your next attempt at getting married, (”I'll have no cursed rings at this ceremony,” she said). You could never bring yourself to get rid of it, though, and eventually fell into the habit of wearing it on your right hand while you wore your actual wedding ring on your left.

You were surprised that you had been buried with it, considering everything. Perhaps your family decided that since you wore it all the time, it held sentimental value to you and you'd want to keep it. Or, you shuddered to consider this, your hands were too swollen to get it off.

You shook those thoughts away and looked back to Eddie. “Where is Howdy?” you asked. “If he was buried next to me, shouldn't he be here?”

Frank and Eddie exchanged a glance. “We aren't sure where he is,” Eddie said.

“We've been keeping an eye out for him, but we think he's gone to the upstairs,” Frank added.

“The upstairs?”

“Heaven, Paradise, Nirvana, whatever you call it. You can go to whatever version of the afterlife you choose once you pass on. Unless you're someone like Julie.” They frowned. “Someone like that who has caused suffering for others doesn't get a choice. She's downstairs.”

“So, if there's an upstairs and a downstairs, where are we? The ground floor?”

Frank's mouth twitched into a smile. “Something like that. The people who end up here usually either can't make up their mind where they want to go or have unfinished business. You could join Howdy upstairs, if you wanted.”

You considered this, but the idea made your head spin. Where exactly did Howdy go, and how would you go about joining him?

Frank nodded to a nearby hallway. “We can talk more about this, later. Come on, the others are waiting to see you.”

The others. You perked up a bit remembering them. Sally, Poppy, Barnaby, even your old dog, Scraps. You followed Frank out of the cavern, and Eddie fell into step beside you, whistling a cheery tune as you walked.

The bells were already ringing by the time you reached the village, and as you got closer to the old tavern you could hear a chorus of voices all calling out, “New arrival! New arrival!”

Eddie chuckled beside you. “Poppy is up to her ears in cooking. They just had a Welcome Feast for me the other day.”

You tried to swallow, but your mouth was too dry. God, Eddie's, funeral was just the other day, and now here you were. You weren't sure if you could take part in any kind of feast; your mind was still reeling from everything that had happened.

You entered the tavern and were immediately greeted by Sally, the tragic Shakespearean actor, who gripped your hand and was roughly shaking it as soon as you stepped through the door. “Well, it's about time you showed up!” she said.

“Easy, Sally. Y/N is still adjusting,” Frank said as they came in beside you.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sally said as she tugged you across the room and sat you down at a bar. “So how'd it happen?”

You cleared your throat. “Um. A carriage accident.”

She whistled. “Wow, that's a rough way to go. Do you remember any of it?”

“Not really. I got knocked out pretty quickly.”

There was a loud thud beside you as a familiar, tall blue dog plopped down in the seat on your other side. “Welp, that's good at least,” Barnaby said as he handed you a frothing mug of beer.

“Sure is. Not remembering violent deaths makes the transition a little easier.”

Barnaby leaned over, his eyeball rolling into his right socket, and peered at you. “And judging by all the schmutz on your face, I'm guessing it wasn't a pretty sight.”

“Schmutz?” You gently touched your face and realized that you had a very thick layer of makeup on.

“Oh yeah! We need to get that off you right away. It looks awful.” Sally stood up and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Poppyyyyyy! I need a mirrooooooooor!”

“One moment, please!” a high-pitched, crow-like voice squawked from the kitchen. “Goodness me, I'm going to start molting again from all these feasts.” Poppy walked into the space behind the bar, wiping her wings on her apron, and she looked up at you. “Oh, my dear Y/N. I heard the rumors, but I didn't know if they were true. I'm so sorry.”

You couldn't help but smile at Poppy, remembering the way she comforted you when you first came here and were scared out of your wits. “I'm fine. It's good to see you again.”

She smiled back at you before digging through her apron pocket. “Let's see, I think I have a mirror in here, somewhere. Ah!” She withdrew a tiny hand mirror and handed it to you. “Please don't be insulted, but whoever did your funeral makeup certainly did you a disservice.”

You looked into the mirror and blanched when you realized that they were right. The makeup didn't match your skin tone and made you look horribly discolored, and they seemed to try and make up for that by applying huge splotches of rouge to your cheeks and lips. You grimaced at your reflection.

“Uh huh. Here,” Sally said while handing you a rag.

You went to work cleaning up your face and neck, scrubbing the makeup away. You froze when you glanced at your reflection again and noticed just how much you had changed. Your skin had taken on a bluish tint, and you had massive stitches across your neck and down your right temple. You gently prodded at your temple and flinched when a fraction of your skull shifted under your touch. No, the accident wasn't pretty at all.

Sally noticed this and took the rag and mirror from you. “Here, I'll finish,” she said.

“You'll get used to it,” Barnaby said as Sally got to work. “Imagine how Poppy was when she first got here and saw that half of her face was missing.”

Sally finished and nodded with satisfaction. “There. Now you look like one of us!”

“The stitches are a nice touch, too. Makes you look like a pirate,” Barnaby said.

Sally gasped. “Oooo. We could do a production of The Pirates of Penzance! Are you a good singer?”

“Me? Well, uh—”

Barnaby laughed then stood up. “Care if I go ahead and audition?” He started singing “I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General” before anyone could protest, going out of his way to use a silly voice and make larger-than-life funny gestures.

Eddie took Barnaby's seat beside you and helped himself to the drink that Poppy put down in front of him. “So, what do you think you're going to do now?”

You pondered this for a moment. “I'm not sure. What can I do?”

“Whatever you want, really. You could move on to another afterlife upstairs, or you could stay here. Take care of whatever unfinished business you have.”

You shrugged. “I guess that's why I'm here, huh? I just can't make up my mind?”

Poppy leaned against the bar and giggled. “Oh, no. I think you do have unfinished business.”

You tilted your head. “What?”

Sally's attention was brought back to you and she propped her elbows on the bar, giving you a sly smile. “Oh, yeah. And I bet we all know what it is.”

“I'm confused,” you said.

“Oh, come on. Do we really need to spell it out for you?” she said with a groan. “How about the guy you almost drank poison for?”

Your eyes widened. “Wally?”

Sally and Poppy both nodded. Barnaby gave up on his performance when he realized no one was watching him juggle three empty beer mugs and approached you again. “Sounds about right,” he said.

“But that's not possible. Wally, he... he's gone. I saw him disappear.”

Frank approached you from behind and placed their hand on your shoulder. “He's not gone. Souls don't just disappear like that.”

“Yeah, and he visited us a couple of weeks ago,” Barnaby added.

You felt something deep within you—your heart, maybe? even though it wasn't beating anymore?—jump up at the revelation. “Where is he? Upstairs?”

“Nah, I think Poppy would have let us know if he was living in the attic.” Barnaby laughed when Frank gave him a sharp glare.

“Not precisely. Last I heard, he's residing in another in-between kind of place. It's a little bit harder to get there since it's separate from our world, but he's figured it out well enough that he still visits us from time to time,” Frank said.

Your throat clenched like a fist and your eyes were stinging. You pressed your hands against your mouth and sniffled.

Poppy grinned. “I knew it.”

“Please. We all knew it,” Sally said.

“How do I find him?” you said.

Frank put a hand to his chin. “Well, he told me that there are a couple of ways to get there, but for most of them you have to know what you're looking for. I haven't been able to go there, myself, so I won't be very much help, there.” They tapped his jaw and hummed a bit in thought. “I suppose I could give you the spell I gave Wally before. It's a bit of a gamble, but I'm sure it won't be much of a problem for you. It's a spell to help you find your heart's desire. I gave it to him when he first got here in case he ever changed his mind about that unfinished business of his, and he kept it with him for years. Didn't use it until that day in the Land of the Living.”

You remembered that moment vividly, when you watched as Wally's body dissolved into hundreds of blue and grey butterflies. “That was a spell? I thought he was gone.”

Frank shook his head. “I think once he decided that he was satisfied, he needed something to help him move on. He's happy where he is now, if not a little lonely.”

You hugged yourself. You had never considered the possibility of seeing Wally again, and now that you were told that it was possible, your heart seemed to sing at the idea. But something was holding you back.

“What about Howdy?”

Frank sighed. “I can't help you with that. I'm afraid that's a decision you'll have to make on your own.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Eddie said, “you're not limited to one place. You can visit each afterlife whenever you want. I visited my parents in the upstairs the other day, but I'm staying here to be with Frank.” As he said this, he took Frank's hand and gave them a sweet smile. “So, uh, if you want to see Howdy again, you can. But you don't have to stay anywhere. You're free to do what you want.”

That seemed to loosen some of the tension in your chest. You took a deep breath and let your heart take over. “Okay. How do I use that spell?”

Frank smiled. “We'll need to get some things out of my office.”

You stood and followed Frank out the door. Sally whooped behind you, “Woo hoo! Lover boy's getting his partner back!”

“We'll have that Welcome Feast another time, alright?” Poppy called.

Barnaby just hummed to himself, considering adding another verse to “Remains of the Day” so that the story would have a happy ending, after all. Then again, he'd probably have to sacrifice the catchy instrumental part in the middle so the song wasn't too long, and he wasn't willing to do that.

You and Eddie stood in silence as you watched Frank dig through his various supplies. He scrutinized their spell book as he carefully measured and combined the ingredients. When they were finished, he handed you a small capsule the size of a marble.

“This is it?” you asked.

He nodded. “It looks unassuming, but it is a very powerful spell. All you have to do is crush it in your hand and you'll be sent to wherever your heart's desire is. Though, you may need to try and focus on one thing, or else you may get sent to the wrong place.”

“But don't worry. If you get lost, just find a graveyard and enter a crypt to go underground, and you'll find a village associated with that grave yard. You should be able to find your way back from there,” Eddie said.

You nodded, staring at the capsule in the palm of your hand.

Without warning, Eddie pulled you into a hug. “Take care of yourself, okay, bud? And you'd better visit us all the time, or I'll come find you, myself.”

You smiled and leaned into his hug. “I will. I promise.”

Frank sniffed and cleared their throat, trying to hide the fact that you reminded him of themselves when he was young and fell in love with Eddie for the first time. “Alright, go on before Eddie decides to make you stay here.”

You turned to Frank and gave him a hug, too. “Thank you,” you whispered.

They awkwardly patted your back. “Of course.” He led you out to his balcony that overlooked the village. “I will warn you, it may be a bit of a bumpy ride.”

You walked to the edge of the balcony, looked back over your shoulder at them as Eddie put his arm around Frank. You took a deep breath—just out of habit at this point, and it was an odd sensation to feel your lungs stretch for the first time in a while—then turned your face up. You closed your eyes and pictured Wally, wherever he was, then you squeezed your right hand until the capsule burst and a fine powder spilled out between your fingers.

Nothing happened, at first. You opened your eyes again and looked down, wondering if you'd done something wrong.

But then you felt another strange sensation: an unraveling, like your body was falling away from you. A gust of wind swirled around you, your feet and the tips of your fingers tingled, and your body transformed into hundreds of butterflies.

Just like Wally.

Normally, you would have been frightened. You weren't. Your heart jumped up in your throat with excitement. You almost laughed, but your face and mouth had been transformed by then.

You were jumbling, fluttering, riding on the wind current, spread out in a great cloud of delicate wings. You tumbled through the air, trying and failing to grasp what was happening and where you were going. The world flew past you in a blur. You felt free.

You jolted when your feet suddenly met solid ground. You blinked, held your hands out in front of you and found them whole again.

You were in a circular clearing in the middle of a grove of trees. You spun around in a circle, taking in your surroundings. The trees were all tall and dark, and each tree on the edge of this clearing had a door carved into it. A four-leaf clover, a big red heart, a Christmas tree? An Easter egg? These were all symbols associated with holidays.

“Oh!” a quiet voice sounded behind you. You turned to face them and stared, slack-jawed, at the person who met you. She was a tall, slender woman standing at the edge of the grove. Her skin was made of a blue fabric and she had long, red hair and wore a colorful, patchwork dress. A small basked was hanging from the crook of her arm, stuffed with sprigs of lavender. Her round, glassy, babydoll eyes blinked at you. She smiled and dipped her head down. “I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting to find anyone else here.”

You struggled to find your words as you were still wrapping your head around the concept that a giant rag doll was talking to you. This was all a lot for you to take in one day. You coughed and said, “No, I'm sorry. I'm just... looking for someone.”

The woman tilted her head. “Is that so? Who are you looking for?”

“A man named Wally Darling. He's a...” You hesitated, unsure how foreign this would be to her.

But she finished the sentence for you. “A corpse? Like you?”

You smiled bashfully. “Yes.”

The woman grinned even bigger. “Then it's a good thing I found you. He's from the same town as me.”

That jolt of excitement shot through you again. It seemed like the spell that Frank made for you worked like a charm. “Really? Can you take me there?”

“Of course.” She walked up to you, her stride small and with a noticeable limp, thought she didn't seem to be in pain. She held out her hand. “My name is Sally, by the way,” she said.

Another Sally, you thought. You shook her hand and introduced yourself. She nodded, then motioned to the side toward a tree with a door shaped like a jack-o-lantern in it. “We'll be heading to Halloween Town. This is the fastest way there,” she continued. She limped to the tree, turned the knob that was disguised as the jack-o-lantern's nose, and the door swung outward. You cautiously approached it and looked down into the hollow tree. There was nothing but darkness, and the door opened to a steep drop-off that you couldn't see the bottom of.

“I find it easiest to just close my eyes and jump,” she said. “I know it can be a bit intimidating sometimes, but I promise, it's perfectly safe. My husband and I come through here all the time.”

You swallowed, grabbed hold of the doorway, and shut your eyes. A gentle breeze blew through, carrying the comforting scent of fallen leaves and caramel apples. A smile crept onto your face, and you pulled yourself through the doorway and jumped.

There was only a second of free fall before you landed smartly on your rear end in a giant pile of leaves. You grunted and clambered to your feet.

Sally appeared beside you. “Are you alright? That happens a lot for first-timers.”

You straightened up and said, “Yeah, I'm fine. Not like I can get much worse.”

She giggled at that and motioned for you to follow her. You walked together down a dirt path that cut through the woods and she asked you about where you came from and how you got here. She was a good listener as you told her everything.

“How do you know Wally?” she asked.

“We, um...” Your face heated up and you found yourself fiddling with the band on your right hand. “It's a long story. Let's just say we're... old friends.”

“I see,” she said with a knowing look that made you blush more. But then she looked forward and said, “Here we are.”

You both crested a hill and looked down on an archway with “Halloween Town” spelled out in black, iron letters. A large town bustled with activity down below. The architecture was conflictingly made of a combination of twisting, curving lines and jagged, sharp angles, and the citizens seemed to enjoy and monochrome color palette with occasional splashes of bright color. You followed Sally down the path and entered the town.

You had to keep yourself from gawking when you saw the first couple of citizens gathered in the town square: a wolf man dressed in tattered flannel chatting with a bulking man dressed in overalls with an axe stuck in his head. They both gawked at you, though, when you came into a view.

“Look! Queen Sally has brought in someone new!” the wolf man exclaimed with a gravelly voice.

You glanced at her. “Queen Sally?”

She blushed. “Ah, yes, I didn't mention that. I'm the Pumpkin Queen.”

“Oh!” You fumbled and started to bow, but Sally stopped you.

“Please, don't. That's exactly why I don't go around announcing that to everyone. Just treat me like you would anyone else.”

You nodded. “Sorry.”

“And don't apologize, either.” She hooked her arm around yours and said, “Now, let's go find Wally.”

She led you away, but not before you noticed that a trio of women, (witches, you guessed, based on their clothes and pointed hats) had gathered around the wolf man and were whispering conspiratorially.

You hadn't gone far before you stumbled upon two more citizens: a man wearing a long trench coat and tall, thin top hat, and an even taller, thin, and gangly skeleton dressed in a pin-stripped suit with tails on his coat and a bat bowtie. They were both leaned over something on a table.

Sally perked up a bit beside you. “Oh, that's my husband over there. He may know where Wally is.” She waved her free hand and called, “Jack! Jack!”

The skeleton looked up and his face split into a wide, toothy grin. “Sally! Perfect timing! Mr. Hyde and I were just testing out his newest creation. Would you care to see?”

She nodded and walked to the table, where Jack presented her with a large, orange bowl of candy with a small sign taped to the front that read “Just Take One.”

“A seemingly normal bowl, yes? Perfectly welcoming to trick-or-treaters.”

“Of course,” she agreed.

“Go and take a piece. Just one.”

Sally did as he said a delicately picked up a wrapped piece of butterscotch. She waited a moment, then raised a brow at him. “Is that all?”

“Precisely, because you were good and only took one. Now, pretend you are a greedy trick-or-treater and try to grab a handful.”

Sally nodded and drove her hand into the bowl, grabbing a large handful of candy, when a ghostly hand jumped from within the depths of the bowl and grabbed her wrist. She gasped, startled, then laughed. “What fun!”

Jack clapped Mr. Hyde on the back. “You see? A brilliant idea! I knew you were an excellent choice for the knew town scientist. Well done!”

Mr Hyde chuckled, pleased with himself. “You flatter me, Jack.”

Sally gently tugged at Jack's arm and whispered to him. He looked at you and his eyes lit up. “Oh, my apologies! I was so caught up in my work, I hadn't noticed you there.” He swept into a low bow. “Jack Skellington, Pumpkin King and Co-Representative of Halloween.” He stood upright and draped an arm over Sally's shoulder. “And you've already met my wife and partner, Sally.” He looked you up and down, then beamed. “We don't get very many new faces, but you seem like you'll fit right in, here.”

You cleared your throat and said, “Actually, Mr. uh, Skellington—”

“Please, Jack is fine.”

“Jack,” you corrected, “I'm actually looking for someone. Wally Darling?”

He raised a brow and glanced at Sally, who only smiled up at him. “Your name wouldn't happen to be Y/N, would it?”

Your eyes widened. “Yes. Why?”

“He talks about you all the time. Oh, he'll be over the moon when he sees you!”

You could have sworn that your heart thudded hearing that, but that couldn't have been possible, could it?

Jack tilted his head and hummed. “I just saw him a moment ago. I may know where he is. Follow me!” He let go of Sally and strode away. You glanced at Sally and she nodded to you, urging you forward, then you jogged to follow the skeleton.

Jack led the way down a twisting cobblestone path that led out of the town and into farmland that mostly consisted of pumpkins. He led you through a graveyard and up a steep hill, and his long strides took him up the hill faster than you could keep up with. You couldn't run out of breath, anymore, but that didn't stop your muscles from aching as you hiked after him. As you reached the top of the hill, you could see another hill in the distance that made the shape of a spiral. As you took in the view, your gaze wandered from the massive spiral and down to the bottom where another there was another pumpkin patch.

You froze when you saw him. There was no mistaking him with his blue, patchwork skin and signature hair style. He wasn't wearing the wedding tuxedo anymore; now he donned a simple white shirt and blue striped pants. He was seated at a stool in the middle of the pumpkin patch with an easel in front of him, hard at work on a painting. You would have gasped if you still had breath, and your body moved before you completely comprehended what you were seeing.

Wally.

As you came closer, you could see that he was recreating the view of the spiral hill on his painting. His back was to you, and he hummed quietly as he worked, so deep in thought that he didn't notice you and Jack approaching until Jack called his name.

“Wally! I thought we'd find you here.” Jack leaned over Wally's shoulder and looked at the painting. “Ah, is this my commission? It's coming along swimmingly.”

All you saw was Wally's side profile as he smiled up at Jack. “Thank you. I'm just touching up a few details, right now. It should be finished in a day or so, when it dries.”

“It will be a wonderful anniversary gift. Sally will love it!”

Wally turned back to his painting, and Jack glanced at you like he'd just remembered you were there. “Actually, Wally, I needed to speak to you.”

“Hm?”

“It seems,” Jack said, putting his hand on Wally's shoulder, “that someone is here to see you.”

Wally gave Jack a confused look, then turned.

His eyes widened, and the paintbrush fell from his limp fingers.

Neither of you moved. His eyes trailed up and down your body. He stood, took a few hesitant steps forward, and said, “Y/N?”

You smiled. “Hello, Wally,” you said.

Jack was beaming.

Wally blinked, then shook his head. “I'm dreaming.”

You almost laughed. Your hands were shaking. “No, you're not.”

“I am. You... you can't be here. It's not possible.”

“Wally...”

“I'm going to open my eyes, and you'll be gone.”

You approached him, took his hand, and pressed it against your face. His eyes dilated and his mouth fell open.

“I'm here,” you whispered.

He studied your face, and his fingers trailed down your jaw and to your neck, where they found the stitches. He glanced at them, and his mouth opened wider. “Oh...” His other hand found your neck and he gently traced the stitches. He gently turned your head from side to side as he looked you over like he was just noticing the bluish tint your skin had taken, and his gaze fell on the stitches on your temple. “What happened?”

“A carriage accident.”

He covered his mouth. “Oh, no...”

You took his hand again. “It's alright. I don't remember anything.”

You noticed tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “I'm so sorry.”

You cupped his cheek. “Don't be. I'm alright.”

Jack coughed. “I believe you two will be wanting some time alone?” He leaned down and whispered to Wally, “I recommend the top of Spiral Hill. Very romantic spot.” He winked, and Wally started to blush.

“Thank you,” he mumbled before he gripped your hand tightly and led you toward Spiral Hill. You trudged to the top together, hand in hand, and you looked out over the view of the graveyard and pumpkin patch, grey and black with dots of orange.

Wally turned to you and took a tight hold of both your hands. “Tell me everything.”

You didn't speak, because with him holding your hands I noticed something for the first time. When you had met before, when you were still alive, whenever he touched you his skin was always freezing cold. Now it wasn't. You realized it was because we were the same temperature. It made you want to hold him closer.

“I already told you, I was in a carriage accident.”

“No, no. I mean... tell me about your life. What happened after I left?”

“You want me to tell you all of that? Right now?”

He nodded. “We have all the time in the world, now.”

You grinned, and then you did just that. You told him about your marriage to Howdy, the relationship you had formed, the good and bad times, and you told him that during those seven years, you never forgot him. You were afraid that he would be upset or sad when you told him about your marriage, but he seemed to be the contrary.

“I'm glad,” he said. “I was hoping I was making the right decision. It's good to know that you lived a good life after I was gone, even if... even if it was a short one.”

He had looked away, and you gently cupped his cheek so that he would look at you. “The others in the Land of the Dead said that the reason I stayed behind was likely because I had unfinished business. At first, I didn't know what they were talking about, but I think I do, now.” Despite building up to that, you suddenly became bashful and couldn't quite find the words.

Wally touched your hand on his face and leaned into it. “You were looking for me?”

You nodded. “The thing is... I missed y—”

He interrupted you by pressing his lips to yours.

He had only ever kissed you once before, that night on the bridge. You weren't sure if that even counted since you fainted when he did. You remembered being terrified back then, your stomach swirling and your heart thumping so hard and fast you thought you were about to have a heart attack. You remembered how cold his lips were, and how dizzy you were from the fear.

This was different. Obviously, you weren't afraid, now, but it was more than that. It was rushed and passionate, not the formal seal of the vows that Wally had done before. And it was warm. You still felt dizzy, though.

When he pulled away, you stared into each other's eyes for a moment, then you took his shoulders and pulled him back to you for another kiss. Your hand went to the back of his head and your fingers tangled into his soft hair. His hands trailed up and down your back. You gripped each other as if the second one of you let go, you'd be lost forever. You finally pulled away again when you heard the sound of an applause in the distance.

At the top of one of the nearby hills, a small crowd of monsters and ghouls had formed, and they were whooping and cheering. Jack and Sally stood at the center of the crowd, smiling up at you as Sally leaned into Jack's shoulder.

“So much for alone time,” you muttered. You turned back to Wally to see him beaming up at you. His eyes sparkled.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up into a twirl. You yelped in surprise and gripped his shoulders. He laughed heartily as he set you back down, then he leaned his forehead into yours, and for a moment you simply relished in each other's company.

“Thank you,” he said. “I've missed you, too. I know that I was selfish before, but I really am glad that you came to find me.”

You were surprised to feel your heart melting a bit when he said that—it seemed that even if your heart didn't beat anymore, it was still capable of swelling and melting with emotion.

The ring on your right hand glinted in the moonlight. A knot formed in your throat. “I think... I think I know what my unfinished business is, now.”

Wally tilted his head, curious.

You took the ring off your finger and held it up to him. “I want to try again. Properly, this time. Nothing in our way, and no interruptions. I want to give you the wedding you deserve.”

Wally's eyes widened a bit, then he chuckled and shook his head. “It was never just about the wedding, you know. I wanted true love. A happy ending.”

“Exactly,” you said. “I want to give you that. A big, beautiful ceremony to celebrate true love, and a real happily ever after.” You cleared your throat, suddenly nervous. “If you'd like that, I mean.”

He broke into a wide smile. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

You nodded. “Yes. Will you marry me? Again?”

He laughed again and pulled you into a hug. “Yes. If you will have me.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into the hug. “Of course I will.”

You finally pulled apart once again to slip the band on Wally's finger, right where it belonged.

A/N: Yes, I already know I'm cringe. Don't look at me.

#welcome home fanfic #corpse puppet au #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x reader #nightmare before christmas crossover #jack x sally

[iamnotthere-idonotdie]

dream of me

part one

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synopsis: reader is an employee at wayne enterprises and gets a promotion from bruce, but the line between your professional relationship is blurred when he invites you to dinner.

content: bruce wayne x reader, no use of y/n, some cursing, some sex but not too graphic, mention of parents’ death

a/n: i had some other plans for this story but got a bad case of writers block so i decided to leave it here instead of dragging it out for the sole purpose of adding another plot point, i don’t have any plans for more parts to this but we’ll see, i honestly think i was more envisioning keaton’s bruce wayne for this story (at least i envisioned his house to look like keaton’s) because battinson’s would be pretty uncharacteristic for this, maybe this is an au where bruce wayne isn’t batman and just works at the company but i don’t know, point is just interpret bruce however you’d like, as always sorry about the typos, also sorry if it’s inaccurate that bruce doesn’t cook (i wasn’t sure if it was canon that he does or not so sorry if i was wrong in my guess, i should’ve just looked it up but honestly i was just ready to finally get this out of my drafts)

edit: i got around to making a part two

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grey clouds encompass the sky. your window is frosted by the freeze outside and slow snowflakes fall down like confetti. you walk up to the window and put your hand on it, letting the chilled glass send a shiver down your spine. it’s the first snowfall of winter. the first of likely many. though your penthouse offers a lavish view of the icy landscape of beautiful serenity, you know on the streets below the ice has already turned to slush and the snow has darkened from the dirty concrete. nothing beautiful lasts long in gotham city.

you pull your robe tighter around your shoulders and let out a sigh. you suppose you’d better get dressed for work. you walk across the bedroom to your closet and begin selecting your outfit. a stylish ensemble of pants, a button down top, and a sweater. you grab your boots out of the closet and set them down on the hardwood floor, the thud waking up your partner in bed. well, not exactly partner. but he kept you company last night, and warm this morning.

he rubs his eyes and sits up in bed.

“you’re leaving?” he asks, his words slurring as he tries to wake up.

“i have to go to work. we have a budget meeting today. i can’t be late.” you reply as you put your boots over your thick socks.

“what time is the meeting at?”

“ten.” you reply, flatly.

“well then what’s the rush? you still have plenty of time to get there.”

“not in this ice, i don’t.”

“well then at least let me kiss you goodbye.”

you reluctantly walk back over to the bed and kiss his cheek. you feel a sting in your chest and realize he didn’t see this as the one night stand you did.

“bye. i have to go.”

“see you later?” he asks as he gets out from under the covers, his clothes still off.

“maybe.” you say coldly. you don’t have time for this.

“okay, fine. bye.” he replies just as icy. good. it’s easier that way.

you put your coat on and grab your bag as you walk out the door, locking it behind you. he’ll unlock it again when he leaves but mrs. hanson down the hall has a spare. you’ll text her to lock the door for you later.

just as you predicted, the roads are a nightmare. you’re weaving in between other cars, willing the other drivers in them to go faster. you can’t be late for this meeting.

you finally get to the tower and pull into the garage, opting for a space right by the elevators. maybe if you get this promotion they’ll give you an assigned spot.

you get to your desk at 9:46. with a few minutes to spare, you go to the break room and make a coffee. someone keeps using your mug, so you have to use the communal one with the cartoon dog on it. not as professional as you’d like. and you can’t use a disposable because wayne enterprises is committed to being waste-free. at least waste-free when it comes to the break room. other areas in the company could benefit from that policy. but that’s what you’re going to propose in your meeting. you know this corporation is not going to run out of money anytime soon, but there are still places to improve on efficiency. you drink your coffee, black, and make your way back to your desk. you glance at the conference room every few seconds to watch your boss set up for the meeting. you analyze his every move, trying to gauge his mood at the moment. sometimes these proposals of yours don’t go over very well if he seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. you need him in a good mood. this meeting can potentially determine whether or not you can continue climbing the corporate ladder into that manager position you’ve been pining for for two years.

you gather your folder and notepad, opting to leave the coffee sitting at your desk, and you walk into the conference room.

“good morning mr. glass. enjoying the snow this morning?” you greet him in your most chipper tone in an attempt to sway what you think is a bad mood.

“well i would if the roads weren’t so goddamn icy. these people can’t drive in the snow.”

so maybe starting the conversation with that was a poor choice.

“yes, it can be very frustrating to drive in it.” you try to be as agreeable as possible.

more of your colleagues start to filter into the room as you take your seat at the end of the table. the conversation is low between everyone as they wait for the meeting to begin.

after 15 minutes, you start getting more anxious. your stare threatens to burn a hole through your folder with the proposal in it. why is this taking so long?

you now understand why there’s been a delay, as bruce wayne enters the room. fuck. bruce wayne is going to have to listen to your proposal now? it was nerve-wracking enough to have to pitch this to your boss, but the owner of the company? your boss’s boss? your hands start to shake and you try to wipe the sweat off of them onto your pants.

“i apologize everyone. i didn’t mean to keep you all waiting.” mr. wayne says as he takes his seat on the opposite end of the table.

mr. glass stands up from his seat at the head of the table. “well as long as you’re here, let’s get started on our quarterly report and budget for next month.”

the rest of the meeting is clouded by your anxiety. all you can think about is how much you don’t want to fuck this up. especially not in front of bruce wayne.

“well it looks like there’s plenty of room for improvement. how do you suggest we close this gap?” mr. glass asks the room, but it’s clear he is directing the question at mr. wayne.

“does anyone have any suggestions?” mr. wayne looks around the table.

without thinking you raise your hand and speak up.

“i have a budgeting proposal that i would like to share. if that’s alright.”

“that’s more than alright. let’s hear it.” mr. wayne gestures for you to take the stand, so to speak.

you stand and shakily take your papers out of the folder.

“as we all know, our expenses have been increasing as of late. and while these expenses have allowed us to improve on some essential aspects and departments, i believe there is a more efficient way we could be doing it.” you pause and look around the room. “firstly…”

the pitch goes better than you could have imagined. you were able to make your proposals clearly, answer questions thoroughly, and present confidently. you sit down after finishing and can’t help but smile, proud of yourself.

“well, that was quite a lot. thank you, but i think some of those implementations are a bit far-fetched.” mr. glass says and you can’t help but hear the condescending tone. your smile drops and you feel your face get hot in embarrassment. so much for that promotion.

“i actually really like what you had to say. i especially liked the suggestion to put more money into outreach.” mr. wayne says to you, smiling. “did you have any specific suggestions on where to do that?”

“thank you mr. wayne. i think it would be extremely beneficial and useful to prioritize teaching youth about technology; promoting stem learning and encouraging them to pursue higher education and research into it. we can even offer scholarships and grants to help students who won’t be able to afford the college tuition. and possibly gifting students new computers to further encourage learning.”

you get so passionate about this topic. you yourself were one of those kids. those kids who didn’t grow up in a mansion, but in a dingy apartment with a single father. those kids who couldn’t even afford to think about college, let alone actually pursue it. it was through a wayne scholarship program that gave you the opportunity to go to university. and now, if you have any say in the matter, you’d be proud to help give that opportunity to someone else who needs it.

“i think that’s great. giving these kids a way to focus their skills in a field they love. great work.” mr. wayne looks impressed, and you can’t help but smile even bigger.

“i appreciate that, mr. wayne.”

mr. glass clears his throat and stands again.

“well it looks like we have a solution here.” your boss says, clearly annoyed. “meeting adjourned, everyone. thank you.”

you stand up and gather your things together. you notice out of the corner of your eye that mr. wayne is making his way toward you.

“that was an excellent proposal. i think there’s a lot of potential there.”

“thank you mr. wayne.”

“bruce, please. i’ve actually been thinking about starting a new outreach division specifically working with the youth of gotham. when that happens, i’d like for you to head that department.”

you stare at him in shock for a moment then finally speak up.

“really? you want me?”

“you clearly have a passion for this. we need that.”

“wow. thank you. i’d be very interested in that.”

heading a division? in a program you care deeply about? this is much better than you had hoped for.

“great. i’ll be in touch and we’ll get started soon.”

“perfect. thank you mr. wa..”

“please, just call me bruce.”

you feel yourself blush a bit.

“bruce, thank you. thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“it’s my pleasure. i’m happy to give the position to someone who really cares about it.”

“i do, very much.”

bruce just smiles as he starts out the room.

“it was nice meeting you. and i’m looking forward to working with you on this.” he says.

“it was nice meeting you too. thank you, again.”

bruce smiles as he exits the room and you watch him through the glass as he makes his way down the hall.

you can’t believe it. this is the perfect opportunity for you. you spend the rest of the day too distracted by glee to focus on your spreadsheets. this is life changing. you can’t help but think of bruce differently too. he’d been up to your floor for meetings many times before, but this was the first time you were sitting in too. you’d always pictured him, frankly, not very positively. you knew this company was a great one and you were proud to work here, but now you’re feeling even better about being a part of wayne enterprises’ legacy.

at 5:36, you start gathering your things to go home. after organizing your desk and grabbing your bag, you start heading out of the office and to the elevators to the garage. you’re the last one to leave on your floor—even mr. glass left early—so you wait by the elevators alone. you hear the familiar ding and the doors open to reveal bruce wayne inside. he’s flipping through some pages in a manila folder when he looks up at you and smiles.

“hello,” he says pleasantly. “last one out?”

“yes, it’s just me.”

“what floor?”

“one, please.”

he presses the button, the button stating GF already glowing.

“thank you.”

the rest of the elevator ride is silent. bruce seems enveloped in this folder and you aren’t much of a talker anyways. the doors open and you start to exit the elevator, when bruce says,

“i’d like to start this project as soon as possible, monday.”

you stop and turn to face him. he’s smiling lightly and you smile back.

“that would be perfect. i’m very excited to start working on it.”

“i am as well. and i’m looking forward to working with you more closely too.”

“thank you bruce. i look forward to that as well.” and with that, the elevator doors close between you.

you smile again, thinking more about this job. but you realize you’re not just excited about the position, but the close proximity you’ll be working with bruce now. and how he said he’s looking forward to it.

you quickly dispel the thoughts from your mind. you’re frustrated at yourself for thinking of something so unprofessional. he was bruce wayne, for gods sake. your boss. any other notions needed to be eliminated, especially before starting this new position. you can’t afford something like that distracting you from doing your job and doing it well.

the weekend is spent with you primarily working on the project. you want everything ready to go and well-organized on monday. you want every detail planned out, to the tee. sunday night, you have all your folders, planners, binders, and other papers, all organized, sitting at the table by the door so you don’t forget them. you finally allow yourself to relax a minute before going to bed, so you draw a bath. you sit by the tub and watch it fill with the warm water, letting your mind wander. the rush of the water streaming out of the faucet provides the perfect white noise for you to get lost in a daydream. you think of this job, the company… bruce. when your mind starts to think of him, you let it stay on the thought. the thought of him, how nice he was to you during the meeting and afterwards. the elevator ride and his sweet goodbye. you think of his smile and you find yourself smiling too.

the sound of the water overflowing the tub jolts you out of your dream state.

“shit!”

you shut the faucet off and pull the plug on the tub drain to let the water go back down. you grab a few towels and try to mop the water up off the floor, leaving them in a wet pile by the door. you’re not feeling very relaxed anymore and don’t quite feel like a bath, but you’re not about to let this water go to waste. so, you slip your bathrobe off and slide into the water, grateful it’s still warm. you let out a sigh and close your eyes, trying to find serenity. again, your mind goes back to bruce. you can’t believe you’re allowing yourself to develop a crush on him. are you in elementary school? this is your boss, you can’t let these thoughts jeopardize this amazing career development.

you sit there for a while, until the water starts to cool down and your fingers start to prune. you get out of the tub and drain it, then grab your wet towels and bring them to the laundry room to wash. you take your robe off, the cold air stinging your naked body, and throw it in the washing machine too. you make a stop at the thermostat to turn it up as you make your way to your bedroom. you slip into pajamas and gingerly walk to the window and look out over the cityscape, the foggy night sky making it look spooky as ever. you allow yourself one last thought of bruce before you get into bed and fall asleep.

you wake up extra early monday morning and head straight to work. the ice has luckily been cleared a bit by gotham’s snow plows, but that doesn’t stop the traffic from forming. it’s okay, you gave yourself plenty of time to get there.

you get up to your floor almost an hour early and make a cup of coffee in the break room. at least one positive of coming in this early, no one’s using your mug.

you sit down at your desk and start running through your folder for the project, drinking your coffee until the mug is almost dry.

“good morning.”

you’re startled by a low voice behind you. it’s bruce.

“good morning bruce. you’re in early.”

“i could say the same to you.”

“i’m just ready to get started.”

“well great. we’ll get things started once everyone else gets in.” he points to your near-empty mug. “more coffee?”

“oh, sure. thank you.”

“how do you take it?”

“just black, please.”

bruce picks up your cup and takes it back to the conference room, his own mug in his other hand. he comes back with two steaming cups and sets yours back on your desk.

“thank you.” you say, picking it up and taking a sip.

“of course. so, how was your weekend?”

“it was good. mostly just working on this.” you pat your folder, gesturing to the project.

“i hope you were able to get some rest in too.”

“i was, yes. and you? how was your weekend?”

“oh, fairly uneventful. i spent most of it working as well.”

“well, i hope you were able to get some rest in too.” you say with a smile.

bruce smiles back

“i was, yes.”

the two of you continue talking at your desk as the first few members of your team start to trickle in.

when the rest of your team arrives, you and bruce all meet in the conference room to discuss strategies and begin the plans for this venture. it’s a productive day, with you sharing your thoughts on how to increase efficiency and bruce bouncing off your ideas. you realize you two work well together, your shared values and ideals harmonizing with each other to create a thought out and amazing plan. you start packing up feeling even more confident with this new position and you already cannot wait to keep going with it.

at the end of the day, bruce finds you again at the elevator, and this time the ride isn’t filled with awkward silence but with engaged conversation between colleagues.

“i enjoyed hearing about your plans to bring this project into gotham’s schools. your point about giving each classroom the proper curriculum via new technology was especially helpful.” bruce smiles at you and you can’t help but feel proud of yourself.

“thank you bruce. i think the whole team was able to work very well together and we made some great progress today.”

“i think so too.”

the elevator dings and the doors open to the garage.

“well, thank you again. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“see you tomorrow.” he says with a smile.

you walk towards your car with your back facing the elevator when you hear the doors close. and then footsteps coming up behind you.

bruce taps your shoulder.

“would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

you’re shocked at his question and, truthfully, your first instinct is to decline. he must sense your apprehension because he starts to backpedal on his question.

“if you have plans, or just don’t want to, i understand.”

“no… i would be happy to have dinner with you.”

“great. we can go down to my car if you’d like.”

“sure.” you say with a smile. as you follow behind him back to the elevator to go to the ground floor, you feel yourself blushing.

the two of you make it to the lobby and you realize how rarely you actually see this part of the offices, with your daily routine utilizing the parking garage every day since you started working here. bruce’s car is brought around front and he opens the passenger door for you to get in.

you make small talk as you drive to his home. you talk about work, how exciting the project is. you talk about the weather, how it’s nice that the ice is clearing. it’s a pleasant drive with bruce at the wheel. when you get to his home, bruce comes around and opens the car door for you again and you head up the steps to his front door. you enter into his insanely large home and are in awe of how just one person can inhabit so much space.

“good evening, master bruce. dinner is almost ready.” an older gentleman greets you two as you enter.

“this is alfred,” bruce introduces him. “he takes care of a some things around here.”

“i take care of everything around here. pleasure to meet you.” alfred offers a hand to shake.

“the pleasure is all mine, alfred.” you say with a chuckle.

“we can wait in the living room. i’ll start a fire.” bruce says.

alfred makes his way to the kitchen as you follow bruce to what you assume is one of multiple living rooms in the house. he puts some logs in and starts a fire in the almost-comically large fireplace then sits down next to you on the sofa.

“dinner smells delicious.” you say, filling the air with light conversation to accompany the crackle of the fire.

“alfred is an amazing cook. i’ve tried to learn from him but i suppose it just wasn’t in the cards for me.”

“i never really learned either. my mother was a great cook too. i wish she had been able to teach me… she passed when i was very young. that’s actually one of the few things i remember about her, her cooking.”

you don’t know why you suddenly started talking about your mother. it’s not exactly light fireside conversation.

“i’m sorry…” bruce says quietly.

“it’s okay. it was a long time ago, and my father and i were able to grow a lot closer over the years.”

“are you and your father still close?”

“he.. actually is gone too. he died of cancer a few years ago. losing my mother was hard, of course. but losing my dad… he was all i knew for so long. all we had was each other.” you start to feel yourself welling up, and you realize you’ve never talked about this with anyone else before.

bruce sits there quietly, and you try to fight the tears but when one falls, the others follow suit.

“i’m sorry…” you start as you try to wipe them away.

“don’t be.” bruce says quietly as he gently wipes a tear off your cheek. he lets his hand stay there, his thumb resting gently on your cheekbone.

you lock your eyes with his and just as you start to get your tears under control, bruce leans in and lightly kisses you. and though you know he’s your boss and you know it’s unprofessional… you don’t stop him. instead, you look at him, and then lean in yourself and kiss him back, stronger. the light of the fire casts dancing shadows across the two of you as you fall into each other on the ornate sofa. dinner has left your mind, work has left your mind, everything has left your mind. everything but him.

you continue kissing, passion growing more and more as the fire grows too. he’s unbuttoning your shirt and you’re taking off his jacket. shoes are kicked off and before it continues, he’s scooping you up with his arms under your knees and around your shoulders, carrying you up the stairs to what you assume is his bedroom. he opens the door and not-so gently puts you on the bed. he finishes undressing himself and then starts taking your clothes off too. he slides your pants down and off your legs and lifts your shirt off, leaving your arms laying above your head. you feel vulnerable, yet when he gets on top, you somehow also feel safe, it just all feels so right. this intensity, this passion, this craving you have for each other is more than you bargained for but also, somehow, everything you ever wanted.

you finish, bruce quick to follow. you only now start to think about how loud you must have been. you both lay there, catching your breath, sweating, and realize how fast the time has gone by. you’ve definitely missed dinner.

bruce finds you an oversized t-shirt and a pair of his boxers for you to wear. he finds a shirt for himself and slips a pair of sweatpants on. you and him make it back downstairs to find that alfred has stored your dinner in the fridge and left instructions on how to properly heat it up. you and bruce laugh at each other for not knowing how to work the stove as you stumble through alfred’s pointers, but you both finally manage to reheat the meal and go back to the living room to eat. with the fire burning its last embers, you and bruce eat your dinner under the low orange light by the fireplace. you talk about nothing yet about everything as you enjoy the delicious late-night dinner. bruce takes your plate to the kitchen and washes the dishes as you bask in the final warmth of the fire.

“i may not be able to cook,” bruce starts as he makes his way back to you. “but i at least know how to clean up after myself. alfred left another note saying to leave the dishes to him, but i figured i’d save him a few extra minutes.”

“how very kind of you.” you say, teasingly.

“well, i am extremely generous.” he says with a sarcastic tone.

you laugh and when he sits back down next to you, you pull him in and kiss him. he cradles your jaw in his palm and kisses you back, his thumb gently rubbing your temple. he pulls away and kisses your forehead. exhaustion gets the better of you and you yawn.

“you tired?” he says smiling.

“no, of course not. i’m as awake as ever, i could run a marathon.” if your sarcastic tone didn’t make it clear you were indeed tired, the second yawn surely did.

he chuckles and stands, taking your hand in his as he leads you back upstairs.

“i have a guest room if you want it, right there down the hall.” he says, pointing ahead.

you look down the hall then back up at him.

“or…”

he chuckles lightly and grabs your hand again, taking you back into his room. you get under the covers with him and he lays down on his back as you curl up next to him, resting your arm across his stomach and your head on his chest. his steady heartbeat and his gentle stroking of your arm lulls you quickly to sleep. as you lay there, seduced into a deep slumber by the warmth and comfort, you dream only of bruce.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

…………………………………………………………………………………….

#batman #bruce wayne #dc #bruce wayne x reader #fanfic #battinson #michael keaton #part one #the batman #alfred pennyworth

[wildbluesorbit]

Wounded || JTK

…a continuation of London

18+MDNI

Paring: [drunk]asshole! Jakexreader(f)

LONDON SERIES MATERPOST

A/N: Howdy, back with more asshole Jake today! I know the last part took a very sharp turn but I promise I am telling a story. It's darkest just before dawn and all that. might have even wrote in a little surprise This piece is inspired by this little diddy, please give it a listen as there are so many lyrical references. Everyone say thank you @tommie-gvf for editing! I hope y’all enjoy this chapter; I am very open to criticism so pretty please let me know what you think!

Summary || Time heals all wounds, yet a year’s passing begs the question if Jake and you are just too broken to ever put the pieces back together.

Content Warnings || toxic relationship, agoraphobia, haphephobia, mentions of nightmares, alcoholic consumption and inebriation, anger, brief mentions of physical aggression and bodily harm, verbal aggression, unsolicited touched, allusions to depressive episodes, allusions to sexual assault, [non-aggressive] attempted forced entry into readers bedroom

*disclaimer: I am in no way a mental health expert and google research can only get me so far*

Word Count || 4.8k+

You swear if the door could speak, it would mock you as you swarm around it. Like an impending predator ready to pounce on its victim; except that you aren’t and it isn’t. You simply stare at the ominous mass on hinges intent on boring a hole through the wood. For just maybe tonight, life would pour in through a glare-induced breach. For once, maybe the world would be kind and come to you.

You are drawn from your reverie by Jake calling your name, “It's okay, we don’t have to go.”

Already aware of the panic-induced rushing heat, you pull your insulative hair back from your flushing face.

You foolishly attempt to speak your courage-feasting fear out of existence, “Oh no, we’re going and we’re going to have a great time!” 

Jake, unconvinced, sleepily rubs his eyes and begins to slip off his well-loved vans at their perpetual displacement by the door.

“Really, it's fine, I’d rather stay in tonight anyways,” he huffs. 

You’re fidgeting alternates from your hair to the cold metal locks of the door, “Why are you taking off your shoes? Let's go!” 

He rests his tenacious hands on your shoulders as he starts to help you shimmy your coat off, “There’s no deadline, angel. It’s okay to not be ready. Don’t push.”

“I want to go out, I promise you,” childish pules make their way through your chest. 

You restrain yourself from stomping your feet like a restive toddler and blink away the unwelcome tears piercing the back of your eyes. 

“I know,” Jake’s voice echoes throughout the empty foyer as he hangs up your jacket, “but there’s no rush, I promise you too.”

It has been a year since London and Jake invited you to live in Nashville with him and Josh. At first, you had agreed only if you could help around the house just until you got back on your feet, but after a few weeks it had become prodigiously clear nothing beyond this point would be that painless. 

As soon as you made home in Nashville, you found yourself struggling to keep up with the world booming just beyond your bedroom. The look on Jake’s face when you were diagnosed with mild cases of haphephobia and agoraphobia almost made you dread you hadn’t stayed to wither away in London. On good days you managed a hug or even a car ride to the store but it was seldom, and only ever accompanied by Jake. You remained constant with your therapy and enervated yourself trying to break through life’s new barricades, but it proved a cheap fuel to get you through most days. 

You have lost count of the amount of nights you got ready for an evening out with Jake, in which he had to go on without you because you could not bring yourself to step beyond that petrifying threshold. So just like the many lost evenings before, you insist he go without you and, like always, you’d be waiting for him when he comes back.

“Fine, but not because you told me so,” you tease, “and put your shoes back on. You know the rules!”

If you couldn’t go out, you made certain you didn’t drag anyone else down with you. And if you are trapped inside, you make sure your weight is being pulled within.

As soon as it was clear you wouldn’t be leaving the house for a while you hunted for work you could perform from the comfort of your bed as a means to not sit idly with the demons trapped inside with you. Since you already had a business degree you landed on being a virtual accountant. But when you had free time you kept the Kiszka residence running smoothly.

Of course, they already had assistants and maids for domestic upkeep of the house and mostly everything was paid for, but you took initiative in commandeering any duties that slipped through those cracks. From taking care of plants and pets to ordering groceries, and even cooking some nights; responsibilities the twins claimed they wanted for themselves in an effort to stay grounded. Yet whether they accept it or not, they are rockstars with no time for such mundane tasks. 

The twins always make sure you know how much they appreciate you. You’d never admit it, but sometimes flowers or a cheesy note here and there is a small token that pulls you through the day. 

Danny and Sam also visit you when they have a chance. The boys always set aside a few minutes to catch up when they were at the house on a work call. Sometimes they’d take turns stopping by with lunch, checking in on your progress. They’d always tell you they miss you and encourage you to go out. Although, constantly being abraded by the same words can be challenging at times you never objected; you found their strategy endearing. It makes you feel like a princess; except for the days it made you sorely feel like a prisoner. 

Yet no matter what the other boys do, Jake is still the pinnacle of it all. The only one who understands the gravity of your experience, as he was there to witness it. He is the only one you feel you can talk to on the rare occasion you do want to talk about it. The only one who recognizes why you are the way you are and knows the tracks your mind runs on. The only one who truly knows how to take care of you when you don’t. Which means he is also aware you hadn’t found the mental capacity to figure out how the two of you fit into each other's lives.

Before the arrival of any real contemplation or diagnostics, you had tried a few times to rekindle the embers of your once-raging flame, but somehow everything always got put on hold or fizzled out. Some nights would consume you two. You’d imagine his pink plush pout everywhere and your touch seemed to send electricity through the man, but you always tapped out, neither of you addressing it. A few times you clung to the concept of Jake and you, charging through the strain of wanting to pull back and he was the one who would call it, consoling you when you hadn’t even registered you had started to cry or hyperventilate. That’s when you noticed Jake redirecting his time and energy into being your friend first and foremost. 

However, he never holds it against you as most nights are spent in your bed anyway. Sometimes he comes in to watch TV, read, listen to music, or just talk until he falls asleep next to you. Seldom do you pursue Jake’s touch, but there is an unbounded stillness about these nights; a safeness enabled by his giggles even breathing so close. These nights are your favorite, submitted to memory as long as fate will allow.

But more often than not, Jake’s nights start in his bed and journey to yours, pursuing his self-assigned task of soothing you back to sleep after a nasty nightmare would goad you awake.

You once asked him how he always knows; to which you immediately regretted as he responded sometimes he intuitively felt compelled to check on you. While other times you could be heard from down the hall; yet you secretly suspect he sometimes sneaks into your room to avoid nightmares of his own. Nevertheless, the last thing you ever wanted to become was Jake’s babysitting project, so you always make an effort to stay away from the phone when he is on the road. 

Days Jake was away proved bearable as many tasks around the house demanded your undivided attention. Yet evenings, when you stalled your mind long enough to fall asleep became excruciating. He’d usually check in after a show or drinks but the prowling monsters always came out of hiding as soon as he hung up. You almost always ended up sneaking into Jake’s bed, seeking comfort in the little strands of him living in his bedroom. You’d never confessed this though. 

Jake reels you from where you had been tucked away in your thoughts, “Danny’s here! Last chance to rescue me from this trainwreck and hog me all to yourself?”

He bats his long eyelashes at you and nods optimistically. 

“Have fun,” you giggle, shutting his whole pleading puppy dog act down. 

He grants you a bashful wave goodbye as you implore him to carry on his evening, as you would feel terrible if he stayed home just because you couldn’t leave. He agrees while perusing your eyes like he does every time before he parts from you. 

You had learned to read this signature appraisal as Jake’s silent survey as to whether he should actually leave or not. He never wanted to see you struggle to ask for something you needed if he found he could anticipate it. Though, It is always accompanied by one other departing look that you could never decipher.

That is until one day, compelled by your confusion that always follows, he told you he was fighting the urge to kiss you goodbye. He said it not to pressure you or coerce you into reciprocation, but just to be honest with you about what place you hold in his eyes. 

Jake whines one more time before you assure him he has no choice, “Do I have to go?!” 

You throw your hands in the air in an exaggerated dusting motion and feign a pestered grunt, “Shoo! Shoo!”

He notifies you he will be right back and his ringer is on if you need anything. You almost envy how gracefully Jake parts from you and vanishes through the door frame with no trouble at all.

— JAKE —

The music is too loud. The lights are too bright. The bar is far too crowded. The company your brothers force on you is nauseatingly obnoxious. You are decidedly miserable. You want nothing more than to crawl inside a cab that hauls you back to her bed. You’ve wanted nothing more for the past year. 

Instead, you endure it. Lead by example and don’t be an enabler. Your only comforting thought is that you don’t have to do it sober. You wash down your despair with the rest of your numbing elixir.

Reluctantly, you are pulled from your dissociation, “Jake?!”

You look up from your empty glass, flocking eyes of anticipation indicating they’ve reached a part of the conversation that requires your participation. You simply apologize and signal the waitress for a refill.

You feel your brother’s elbow gently prod against your rib cage, “What’s up?”

Josh means well, asking the question discreetly, but it still brings the pre-existing conversation to a halt. You wave him off, poorly portraying placidity. He doesn’t buy it, along with everyone else.

A girl you had met maybe a handful of times, you just can’t seem to recall her name at the moment, sat across the table from you. She had been tagging along recently and was particularly fond of Sam. You are clueless as to what purpose her next words serve or why they find you the way they do, just that she is illogically brazen as you don’t really know a thing about her and vice versa.

The nameless girl snickers unprompted, “Still couldn’t get your little puppy out of her cage, huh?”

The startling amount of intimate knowledge this stranger possesses is nearly paralyzing. Your eyes narrow in on a wide-eyed Sam.

Sam’s hands flail about as if he is looking to materialize a shield out of thin air to hide behind and panickedly begins to babble, “Wait- I didn’t tell- She wasn’t supposed to- She was eavesdropping!”

“I heard she won’t even let you pet her,” she smugly clicks her tongue.

All at once, the same raging fire that blazed within you that night in London lends itself to you once again. Painfully flickering in and out every so often, it never returns this lucid. 

That same destructive flame that scorched any and all sense of restraint to a crisp that night, roaring louder in your ears than any other voice of reason. The same seething blind red that found Hunter beaten beyond recognition, the only identifiable weapon being your hands bloodied and bruised and split. 

Like clouds catch the dancing auburn flare of a beaming bonfire, you question whether your face is a glowing ember reflecting your own raging flame. You aren’t certain you could say or do anything without completely losing your shit in this very bar.

Instead of fuming, you only finish your drink in an eerily serene manner. The only indication of rage being your knuckles wrapped white around your glass, your control alarmingly intact by a quickly unraveling thread.

You walk over to the bar to close out your tab. You refuse to give into the red haze as your brothers call after you, thoughtlessly beseeching for you to remain present and what that would mean for you. 

The bell above the door rings through your ears and the crisp chill breeze of night hits your face as you step through the exit, half extinguishing the fire lit by some loose-tongued stranger. 

You know you should go home but the last thing you want to do is further burden her in your short-fused state. You had been diligently adamant in keeping this monster carefully caged in her presence and weren’t about to let your hard work be tossed aside by some prick with a loud mouth. You can pretend to play it off, act like there is nothing wrong but that wouldn’t be fair to the both of you. She would see right through you. 

You decide you don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here. You nuzzle into the warmth of your jacket as you wait for your noble rescue, via Uber.  

— YOU —

You vacillate between consciousness and void as your phone begins buzzing. Half asleep, you let it ring until the din resumes, fully pulling you from slumber. The unnaturally bright screen pierces through the dark room and Danny’s contact photo stings your adjusting eyes.

You force your slumber-frozen vocal cords to rasp out, “Hello?”

Danny’s tender voice sounds through the line, “Hey, sorry to wake you, hun. I just wanted to make sure Jake made it home okay?”

Still groggy from sleep, the question riddles you, “What? I haven’t heard him come through. He’s not with you?”

“Shit- He’s not at the house and he’s not answering his phone,” he mutters to someone on the other end.

Panic sets in and forces you to spring upwards, “Danny? What’s going on? Where’s Jake?”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” his uneasy tone and evasion of your question do little to console you. 

“Daniel-,” you don’t get the chance to finish before you hear Jake stomping up the staircase.

“He’s right here, Danny, goodnight,” you rashly exhale the update before hanging up the phone and tossing it on the bed, of which you’ve already vacated and are headed for the stairs. 

You rush out of your room to see a sloppily inebriated Jake oozing up the steps. You swiftly plod down the incline till you reach the same level as the teetering drunk, intent on assisting him in his expedition to bed.  

You frantically begin to ramble off questions, “What happened? Where were you? Are you okay?”

You pet the frizzy hair away from his face and into a ponytail. Taking care of Jake suffocates any hesitation from his heavy touch as you throw his arm closest to you over your shoulder and place your hands around his waist for balance, eliciting a lazy giggle from him.

“They cut me’off,” he slurs, “can you b’lieve that?”

You roll your eyes and mutter under your breath, “I can actually.”

Once he makes it atop the staircase he dwells there. You keep moving forward to allude him to follow but he instead crumbles into you.

Jake plops his head heavy onto your shoulder and nuzzles into your neck. His hands follow, wrapping around the dip of your waist to keep balance. It has been nearly a year since you last felt the weight of his warm skin press into you. The pungent smell of liquor offends your nostrils as his warm, heavy, drunk breaths tickling your neck become one of irrational remorse.  

Your first instinct to peel him off of you roars throughout every nerve ending of your body, but you don’t. After all he's done, Jake needs you now. Even if it's only to help get him to bed, you don’t mind being wildly uncomfortable for a few minutes. 

“I’m sor- I’m sorry, I just- then she said- I didn’t wanna ‘pset you- I’m so sorry- I just miss you, princess,” he babbles whined apologies into your clavicle, beginning to unnerve you.

You grunt trying to pull his limbs back into motion, “What are you talking about, Jake? Are you okay? What happened?” 

He resumes staggering forward on his own accord, even wasted he is much stronger than you. 

He giggles at your question, completely amnesic to his previous mystery guilt, “Am I O-kay? I’m doing… great! It’s you- Are ya’ O-kay?”

You answer the question simply to appease Jake and keep him mobile, “I’m doing just fine, let’s get you to bed.”

Together the two of you pad down the dark hallway. You make it in front of his bedroom door just before his fluctuating footsteps cease yet again.

He yanks his arms from your grasp in indignation, “Don’t lie to me! You aren’t- I know you aren’t!”

Frustration creeps in, and you take a deep breath. You return his hands to your own and soothingly run your thumbs along his knuckles. You patiently explain that he has had too much to drink and will feel better after water, pain relievers, and sleep. All you want is to help him get some rest. Yet he still refuses to move, a swaying brick wall.

“You know the guy who put his hands on you has got nothing to do with me,” he aimlessly blurts out. 

You wince, throwing your head up to the ceiling. This is the last thing you want to discuss, especially with an intoxicated toddler of a man.

You and Jake rarely talk about what happened that night. You’ve addressed it maybe once or twice when he approached you about seeing a therapist or when you seldom tell him what happens in your nightmare.

You drop his hands to mask your face with your own, struggling to remain in place and not flee from his sight, “Jake-”

The fast manner in which Jake summons sobriety in his next words is almost unsettling, still inebriated but much less so. Enough to have a coherent conversation now. Just enough to wage war with a cleverly choreographed army of words without any real contemplation or inhibition.

He curtly hiccups, “Don’t you think you’ve carried this weight way too far?”

He speaks as if you have any say in the matter. As if you are choosing to remain prisoner to the shadows in your mind. As if choking on paralytic terror and trauma day and night is the path of least resistance. You draw back from Jake in one large clarifying step and place your hands under your arms to conceal their tremors. 

You do your very best to plant your rising tone, “I don’t know what you want from me, Jake?”

“I want you,” he begins to storm, his hands sloppily flailing about to gesture his points, “I want your laugh and I want your smile. I want to knock ‘em down like we used to, you know? I want to kiss you and touch you. God only knows how much I would love you if you’d let me!” 

You know he is only drunkenly rambling but it doesn’t dull the gashes his words leave. How could he insult you to think you couldn’t possibly feel the same? That you don’t ache for times the two of you used to parade through the night, wading through trouble and chaos, spontaneity as your only navigation. How you tear yourself apart knowing you’re the reason it's all recollection and not an existing reality?

You routinely dwell on the former enamoring parts of you. You are a phantom. A mere fragment. A poor cover of an adored original. The waste of a girl everyone antecedently loved, including you. Only a spectator stuck behind a glass, forced to look in on your life being fucked up by some imposterous variation of you. Every element you loved about yourself had been stolen from you.

You raise your defenses, “You don’t think I want that too?! I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this! It's never been this complicated, Jake.”

Your appeal to his empathy goes void as he further scrutinizes you, “So what? You’re the only one who is recovering from that night?! And I'm just supposed to be cool with you doing nothing? You want me to be okay with you neglecting yourself? Let you walk around like you’re some wounded thing?!”

He dissects you, rendering you raw and helpless. You aren’t sure how to reason with him so you remain still, renouncing the idea of a clever rebuttal. He, a hostile beast, you don't want to spook. Yet it only seems to reload his fire. 

Almost repulsed by your lack of refutation, he reboots his one-sided yelling match, “You used to speak so easy, and now it’s like you're afraid to talk to me! When are you going to stop being so apathetic towards this and face your demons?! When are you going to come around again? You used to be this surge of energy- We all miss you- I miss you!” 

His words prick tears from your eyes but you fight them, swallowing the lump of self-pity in your throat. 

You poorly return fire with volume in an attempt to conceive a sob, “You just- you don’t get it, Jake!” 

Jake thrusts his head back in a growl. The sudden shift in his weight causes him to fumble backward, your hands automatically gravitating to his rescue in fear he might trip over his own footing. But you cross your hands back into your sides as soon as he catches himself, not even aware of his staggering he proceeds in his reprimand. 

“I don’t need to get it,” he mimics your weak excuse of a defense, “I just need you to be okay! I don’t expect you to be fine right now or even the same. I just want to know that you will be okay and I have yet to see any indication. You won’t leave this house and the only people you socialize with are my brothers and I. I’m convinced you don't want to grow! I mean- as soon as you start doing well again you shut yourself in your room, is this going to be the rest of our fucking lives?”

You let your mouth hurl words without any ideation of consequence, “I’m not one of your screaming fuck-dumb fan girls, Jake. I don't owe you a thing and you don’t get to speak to me this way. And I don’t expect you to understand but don’t worry, I won’t crowd you anymore. You’ve made it clear I’ve overstayed my welcome so I’ll be out the door.”

You press into the balls of your feet now, completely committed to bolting from any further confrontation but his next words make it nearly impossible to ignore.

His impudence is a cruel dagger, “Yeah, you know you have to actually leave the house first?”

“A colossal fuck you, Jacob,” you snarl.

“Just another thing you have yet to do,” he ruthlessly twists the knife yet again.

All emotion drains from your face completely paralyzed by his venom. You're convinced all the oxygen in your lungs has deserted your body, leaving you gasping and choking for any response. Not even able to make eye contact with him, your eyes swirl around the room; half an attempt to search for some indication this is all a dream, half an attempt to roll back the oncoming tears.

You are sick and tired of crying.

The one person you have trusted with your tears is now the one pouring them back into your crying eyes. Weaponizing your drops, he now trains the blade to your throat.

You hum a tune of uncertainty to cover the lump in your throat as you subconsciously slide your feet backward against the hardwood floor, “Um- Ja- I- You’re drunk, Jake, get some rest, okay?”

You can’t possibly stomach being angry with him any longer. You’ve had enough rage and hate for a lifetime. You don’t want to vilify or associate any of it with the man in front of you.

Though he’s not perfect, you couldn’t imagine asking for more. Jake has been so good to you in a season full of so many tears, panic attacks, mood swings, outbursts, meltdowns, isolation episodes, sleepless and nightmare-ridden nights. He is always there to make sure you are eating, and getting out of bed, and showering, and taking proper care of yourself. He is the one to organize your ground on days you’ve been so numb and dissociated you nearly forgot how to speak. He’s been there to take care of you when the day is so overwhelmingly amplified and intrusive it makes you physically ill.

Jake had placed his heart in being attentive to the little things. He knows when you are holding your breath. He sees when you are avoiding your reflection. He can sense when you are fighting to complete basic tasks. He recognizes when you put effort into something you have been struggling with. Jake makes sure to nurture signs of growth as they come but is always there to gather you when you relapse. He’s always been there to remind you of who you are and how much you are loved. 

This is the first time he’s lost his patience with you and he isn’t even in his right mind.

More than earned your forgiveness, Jake is the reason you can still forgive. The reason you aren’t as bitter and angry at the world as you’re justified to be. 

Yes, you decide that he more than deserves exoneration. Because even though it feels as if it’s millennia away, when you’re one day reunited with your smile, it will be Jake who brings it back to you. A sculptor slowly chiseling away at stone until his piece is restored to the beauty that lives in his memory. 

And though you let his trespasses go you can’t save yourself from the wounds his words have reopened. You scrunch your lips to the side to conceal their quiver. 

“Goodnight, Jake, sleep well,”  your words come out a whisper in an effort to not let your voice break.

Grief commandeers your limbs, immediately puppetting you on your heels and towards your bedroom. 

“Where are you going? Wait- no- I’m sorry- I didn’t- fuck,” Jake’s aggression seems to wilt away as he is swallowed whole by his own words, still thick in the air.

Jake’s pity would be the final nail in your coffin.

The padding of your feet against the cold floor hastens as you hear Jake pursuing behind you. You gracefully gap your door open just enough to float through the sliver and lock it behind you in time to hear Jake's foot and forehead clumsily thud against the wood. You step away from the door as he jiggles the rigid knob to realize it is no use. 

“I’m sorry that was-,” you can hear him running his fingers along the ridges of the door as he is trying to compose himself, “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean it- I just- please open the door?”

You only ever want to tell Jake yes, but what you need now is space. Denial of his plea nearly shatters you across the floor. 

“Please- I’m just- I’m so sorry,” you’d never heard him sound so small.

He never begs like this so you know he is still drunk. You lazily crawl into your bed deciding it is not a good idea to open the door. More mumbled apologies beg their way through the wood and you bury your head under your blanket to drown out the temptation. 

Jake turns his back to the barricade and slides down against it till he reaches the floor, a subtle plop as he takes a seat. His prayers and repentance flicker out until you realize he’s talked himself to sleep against your door. 

You finally let your feverish tears fall till they rinse you of your consciousness.

pretty please let me know what you think <3

taglist❤️‍🩹 -

@ageofbajabule @alwaysonthemend @anythingforjtk @becinabubblegvf @carbondancingthroughtime @dannys-dream @dont-go-home-without-me @edgingthedarkness @gretasfallingsky @gretavanglimmers @gvf23 @heckingfrick @hsfallingsky @imleavingyoufornewyork @kiszkazz @klarxtr @itsafullmoon @jakesguitarsolo @jakesmustache @jakeysbuttsheeks @lipstickitty @lyndz2names @mindastreamofcolours @mountain-in-springtime @mrbrownstne @nina-23-45 @sacredjake @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @smoking-jakelane @sparrowofthedawnsworld @styles-canvas @takenbythemadness @dancingcarbon @thewritingbeforesunrise @tommie-gvf @tripthelightfatality @vanfleeter @violet-hayes @wetkleenex-gvf @zoe-tally06

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[folkookie97]

❝ at least for tonight ❞ — KTH

— SUMMARY: ❝ You're the new Victor of the Hunger Games. You survived, you're still alive. But at what cost? Your boyfriend – and also your Mentor – broke the one promise he shouldn't have to. ❞

— PAIRING: mentor!Taehyung x female tribute!reader

— TYPE: angst | hunger games!au, dystopia!au

— WORD COUNT: 720

— WARNINGS/TAGS: Hunger Games Setting, ambiguous/open ending, established relationship, implied/referenced character death, POV Second Person, survivor guilt, slightly PTSD, Sad!Taehyung, i wrote this while listening to Come in With the Rain (Taylor Swift)

— NOTES¹: Tributes receive Mentors who can contribute (or may not) to their win. And their Mentors are generally Victors from previous Hunger Games editions. You and Taehyung are the same age. You were dating even before his name was drawn in another Reaping, when he became a Victor. And a few years later he was your Mentor too.

— NOTES²: I wrote this inspired by one of my own old Everlark oneshots, but I changed 90% of the plot loool. Anyway, if you like it, maybe I can write more Hunger Games AU or at least develop more on this one (and make it a series in the future...)

— RELEASE DATE: March 05, 2024

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

You never liked storms. However, the situation had been getting worse in recent months, when rainy days like that brought lots of thunder with them. Noisy thunder. Noises that resembled explosions.

And a premeditated explosion in the Arena was what killed your younger brother in the last Games. Wasn't it? At least that's what you had the displeasure of seeing several times during that stupid Victory Tour. Rewatching the same death over and over again.

Rewatching your little brother's death.

The clock struck 4:56 A.M, but the storm prevented you from closing your eyes or even thinking about trying to sleep. Fear ached in your body. Fear of falling asleep and having more nightmares about your brother. Or about Taehyung too. Just like almost every night since you and him returned to Victors' Village.

You tossed and turned on the bed, trying hard to withstand your torment. Searching for efforts to stop the screams from leaving your throat.

And it was then that your heard the first knock on the entrance door.

At first, you thought it was a hallucination, some consequence after so many nightmares. So when you noticed that everything around you remained the same, you imagined that it could be just a bird hurt by the rain.

However, the second knock came. Stronger than the previous one and more hopeless too.

Maybe the wisest thing to do would be to curl up in your blankets again. But your impulsiveness managed to overcome all your logical and rational thoughts. Wisdom and emotional intelligence wasn't something you had in a long time since since you became the winner of the Hunger Games' recent edition.

When the third knock sounded, you was already standing in front of the door. Heart racing, your eyes squinting and your eyebrows furrowed.

"Darling?" The sight in front of you also seemed like a hallucination. A much more striking hallucination than that knock door. "You okay?"

"Taehyung?" His name fell from your lips without any effort, even though your hadn't said it in a few weeks. "Why are you here?"

God! You mentally cursed yourself for saying such words, the sentence coming out harsher than you expected. So, not knowing how to apologize and being tormented by the boy's sad look in your direction, you opened the door a little wider and allowed him to enter.

Taehyung thanked you quietly as he entered your living room, his clothes soaked and his squeaky boots getting messy all the way.

"What happened? Why you get rained on just to come here? It's dangerous! You could get sick!"

You felt your hands start sweating while Taehyung bit his lip and looked at the floor.

"I wanted to know if you were okay. The storm is very heavy today and I know it brings you more nightmares." The boy had some tears in his eyes when he looked at you, sneezing once at the end of the sentence and bringing a flash of pain to your heart. "Darling, I'm so sorry."

Feeling sorry was something very all-encompassing. What was he sorry for? Your brother's death? Your nightmares? Being the mentor to the "siblings tributes" and choosing attract more sponsors for you, his girlfriend, than your brother? Even though you had begged Taehyung after the Reaping to focus on letting you die.

You never wanted to be a Victor. It was your little brother who deserved it and who he should be. And maybe he would have been, if you hadn't fallen in love with Taehyung before his own Games' victory.

Yeah, you two had a lot to talk about. And Taehyung really had a lot to apologize for. But deep down you knew you couldn't kick him out of your house in the rain.

You sighed, approaching Taehyung with slow steps, touching his arm and giving him a light caress. "Go take a shower to warm up. I still have some of your clothes in my new closet."

Taehyung's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed. "You want me to spend the night here? Are you sure?"

"Not really. I still hate you for not keeping your promises. Maybe I'll hate you forever. But we both need each other at least for tonight..."

A sad smile emerged on his lips after he sighed. "Yeah... At least for tonight."

#kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x y/n #kim taehyung x you #taehyung x female reader #bts x female reader #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts drabble #bts x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x oc #taehyung x y/n #taehyung angst #bts taehyung #bts angst #taehyung drabble #taehyung scenarios #taehyung oneshot #taehyung ff #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung fanfic #bts x fem!reader #bts series #bts masterlist #bts fic #bts au #hunger games x reader

[stardustprompts]

the bird eater - ania ahlborn sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw ; death , language , mental health

‘I don’t understand this, I don’t understand.’

‘old ghosts are just as important as new ones.’

‘don’t go back there. you’ll find nothing but demons.’

‘I don’t like the idea of sleeping in there.’

‘I need pancakes. my mental health hangs in the balance.’

‘rumor has it you’re supposed to be dead.’

‘nobody comes back here once they leave. it would be like breaking into prison.’

‘you had to lie to yourself to get over it. to get over him.’

‘you’re lucky to be alive.’

‘that house is haunted.’

‘just because you don’t believe in something doesn’t mean it isn’t real.’

‘I can see it in your face. something happened out there and now you’re putting it together. the wheels are turning.’

‘I don’t think you should call me anymore.’

‘I just got scared. I needed to tell you.’

‘I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live like this, okay?’

‘you always did believe in the weirdest shit.’

‘what are you trying to do, scare the hell out of me?’

‘don’t isolate yourself out here.’

‘okay, now I’m really concerned.’

‘look, I get we haven’t seen each other in forever, but you really think I don’t know? something is definitely up.’

‘I know that sounded like a suggestion, but it actually isn’t up for debate.’

‘i’ve been having nightmares.’

‘nobody comes out here for happily ever after. this town is a ghost.’

‘if I don’t say this, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.’

‘when you disappeared, everything sort of fell apart for me. it was as though you had taken a piece of me with you wherever you had gone.’

‘I always regretted not having a chance to tell you how I felt.’

‘what if insanity is just a heightened sense of perception?’

‘I can’t cope, and she can’t watch me fall.’

‘I can’t be like this. I can’t stay like this. I feel like I’m dying all over again. I just want things to be okay again.’

‘I just want things to be okay again,’

‘I have always loved you. my heart has always been yours.’

‘you want to drown in your sorrows out here, all by yourself?’

‘do you regret it? today, what we did?’

‘I refuse to lose you again, do you understand?’

‘you want me to tell you what’s happening? i’m seeing things, that’s what’s happening.’

‘once a ghost, always a ghost.’

‘I don’t think I should be here anymore.’

‘are you going to let me in? or are you going to make me stand outside while you make stupid jokes all night?’

#rp sentence starters #rp prompts #rp memes #literature prompts #literature sentence starters #horror prompts #horror sentence starters #anna's 31 days of halloween #31 days of halloween: 9 #the bird eater sentence starters #the bird eater prompts #ania ahlborn sentence starters #ania ahlborn prompts