#Painful yesterday. While also scrambling like HELL to get all this new job stuff going they need so much from me SO fast

[stigmasochist]

yiu make a discord server to bring people together and then immediately cut yourself about it when people hop in vc without you at 28... curiouse...

[letarasstuff]

Don’t get near me or my daughter ever again

(A/N): This is for the anon, who requested Matthew getting protective when a paparazzo comes. I apologize for taking so long, I got a bit carried away

Summary: Matthew wants to have a nice day with his baby in the park. A paparazzo wants pictures of them. How does Matthew react?

Wordcount: 1.2k

✨Masterlist✨

___________________________-

Matthew is still getting accustomed to being a single father, after (Y/N)’s mother left both of them claiming she isn’t cut out to be a family person. It’s now on him to juggle raising a four months old baby and having a job as an actor all by himself.

“Good morning my little sunshine, did you wait for dada?” He asks as he walks into her nursery, spotting his child in her bed looking around with wide eyes. Upon hearing her father’s voice she turns to it and smiles at his sight.

“Yes you did! You also gave me a whopping six hours of sleep, you really know what dada needs, don’t you?” Matthew coos at her while picking (Y/N) up. She looks at him, lifts her left arm up and grips his hair. Ever since she discovered it a few weeks ago, the baby is fascinated by it. Also, Matthew found out in a rather painful way that (Y/N) has some strength in her hands and arms.

While getting her dressed in a fluffy Minnie Mouse Onesie, he talks to her: “You know, I don’t wanna press anything on you, but if you get into acting, watch it. I don’t want to be replaced by my own daughter. And I’m not scared to fight a toddler, if I have to.” At that she coos at him, kicking her now fluffy legs. “Well, I rethink it. You are kind of cute.”

Matthew gives her a peck on the forehead, putting on some little shoes. “You know, I always asked myself why there even are shoes for babies. I mean, is there a little secret meeting with other baby executives about how the world gets overthrown by all of you and you have to get dressed decently for it? But now I am enlightened thanks to you: Baby shoes are just adorable. I mean, look at them. They are not even half my hand’s size. Thank you for that knowledge, Sweetheart.”

After a calm breakfast consisting of Matthew trying out solid food with you and him talking to you non stop, not that you mind or can do anything about it, he gets both of you ready to take a stroll at a nearby park. He promised you yesterday to do something fun after you got your shots, not that you really can remember but he is a man of his word.

“Ok Baby, I got a blanket, snacks, baby food, diapers, baby wipes, your binky and your plushie. I feel like I forgot something, what do you think?” When Matthew turns around he spots the forgotten something: (Y/N), who still lays on her playmat for her tummy time.

“Why don’t you say anything? Trying to get out of the whole ordeal? Well, that won’t work with me. I don’t raise a couch potato”, he says whilst strapping you in your stroller.

Walking around Las Vegas with his daughter gives Matthew some kind of pride. He feels like he is on top of the world, because all he needs lays right in front of him looking around with curious eyes and he is lucky enough to be able to push it around. He is able to show another human being the world, teaching her anything he knows. He has someone, who solely relies on him, waking him up at night for food, screams at him when her plushie falls down from the sofa and sometimes pukes on him after burping her.

But all this hard work is worth it. Everytime (Y/N) smiles at her father, coos at him or just looks at him with her innocent and bright eyes, he forgets any worry he has. Matthew knows he has the responsibility to raise her and he will be damned if she is anything but the nicest and sweetest kid in school.

He also sees it as his responsibility to protect her from everything. The father knows that growing up without a mother will be traumatic enough for his child, he doesn’t want something else to pile up on it.

“Here we go, baby. You got your toys, your plushie, we are in the shade and you have sunscreen on. Sometimes I think other parents are just overaggeterating. Parenting seems so easy”, he talks with her, ticking the boxes on the to-do-list in his mind.

But something makes Matthew uncomfortable. He feels watched, sitting under a tree with his daughter on his leg reading to her from his current book.

When he found out he will be a father, Matthew vowed to himself to keep her out of the media until she is old enough to decide if she wants to show her face to the public or not. Also, he doesn’t want her to be embarrassed by baby pictures of her all over some fan pages. So he does his best to hide her from paparazzi and fans.

What makes the father suspicious is the man, who already passed them three times. His behavior is far too fishy for someone, who happens to like to walk the same 100 metres long path several times.

While his fourth passing, Matthew spots a camera hanging around the man’s neck. With an angry sigh he begins to pack their stuff, knowing that his planned relaxing day at the park just got ruined. But he tries to not let it dampen the mood.

“You know what baby? Maybe we go to the zoo? We can get you a sweet new plushie and I can introduce you to all the animals in your picture books.” Her coos are answer enough.

On his walk to a small nearby zoo, Matthew notices the man following them.

Taking pictures of him when he is alone or doing something for the press is one thing, but following him and his daughter while they clearly try to have an off day together is a whole other ordeal and definitively crosses a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

Now being beyond pissed he goes into protective father mode, approaching the man.

“Hey man, I know you watch us since the park and I have to say that your way of doing your job, which is petty and disgusting in any way, is more than unacceptable and if you don’t delete any picture you took of my daughter and me I will make sure your life becomes a living hell. You get three seconds”, Matthew says to him in a low voice, which is way more intimidating than him shouting.

Shocked by his reaction the paparazzo scrambles to delete anything he has on his camera, apologizing profusely while doing it, and tries to get as far as possible when he is done.

After a deep breath the father turns to his daughter, smiling at her sight.

“What do you think about the aquarium, Baby? They are not allowed to take pictures there and I think you will like the octopi.”

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter eight

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn’t expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rated: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

*

Chapter seven was published yesterday, in case you missed it! I was too lazy to make a tumblr post.

*

The term rollercoaster didn’t seem strong enough to describe the last six weeks of Chloe’s life. 

Seeing Beca again. Leaving Marco. Getting clean. Finding out she was pregnant. 

She felt like she needed to stop and take a minute to remind herself to breathe, but the weight pressing on her chest prevented her from sucking enough oxygen into her lungs.

“You’re…” Beca blinked twice in slow succession. “...pregnant. With a baby.” She grimaced in the next beat, releasing a breath. “Sorry, I-- I wasn’t expecting that.” 

Chloe couldn't blame her for being shocked. She swallowed thickly and cleared the lump from her throat. “I made an appointment for an abortion. Tomorrow.”

Tears sprang up into her eyes before she could stop them, and she lifted a hand to her mouth to muffle the sob itching to come out. 

“I’m sorry,” she croaked out, shaking her head. 

“Chlo…” Beca murmured, setting a hand over Chloe’s back and the other one on Chloe’s. “You don’t need to apologize. What you’re going through is incredibly hard, and… if an abortion is what you feel is the best option, then that’s what you should do.” 

Chloe had always wanted to have kids one day, but this was the worst possible timing. She didn’t have a place to raise that baby, or a job, not to mention that she was a recovering addict. 

She nodded along to Beca’s words, as though attempting to convince herself further. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Beca asked. “To the appointment?” 

Chloe hesitated. “I don’t want you to miss work because of me.” 

“You’re more important than work,” Beca argued softly as her thumb stroked Chloe’s knuckles back and forth. “And I don’t think you should be doing this on your own, you know? But I don’t want to overstep either, so it’s completely up to you.” 

Chloe sniffled, reaching up to wipe her tears away. “I… I think I’d like it if you could be there.” 

“Done,” Beca instantly said, nodding firmly. She cleared her throat following a few beats of silence. “So um, is there anything you should do for your recovery? Now that you’re out of rehab, I mean.” 

“The therapist there recommended one in the city, I need to call and book an appointment. I’m going to my first NA meeting in two days. Otherwise, I’ve been told having a routine could really help? Like go for a morning walk, do some yoga, cook, clean… that sort of stuff. But all I want to do right now is crash for a few hours.” 

Beca nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Let me know if I can do anything to make things easier on you, okay?” 

Chloe managed a small smile despite how heavy her heart felt. “I’m already so grateful for what you’re doing for me, Bec.” 

“It’s what friends do. Help each other out.” 

Chloe ended up sleeping for four hours straight. She had never felt so exhausted in her life, and she guessed it was a mix of the physical and emotional toll of pregnancy and rehab finally hitting her. She didn’t eat much for dinner and mostly pushed her food around in her plate, knowing most of it would come back up as it had for the last few days. 

She and Beca got to the clinic ten minutes before Chloe’s appointment that next morning, and after filling out the paperwork, they were led into an exam room, where Chloe was asked to change into a paper gown. She sat down on the edge of the bed once she was changed, her eyes sweeping over the many baby pictures lining the wall. 

Her attention shifted to the door when it opened, a middle-aged woman stepping inside. 

“Hello, Chloe,” she greeted with a soft, reassuring smile. “I’m Dr. Harris.” 

“Hi,” Chloe returned quietly. “This is my friend Beca.” 

“Nice to meet you both,” Dr. Harris said as she approached. “I was told you’re here to terminate your pregnancy?”

“I-- yes.” 

“Okay. As one of the nurses probably told you over the phone, I need to check how far along you are first so we can figure out if a procedure is required,” she explained, setting her chart down and snapping on a pair of gloves. “When was your last period?” 

“I-- I’m not sure.”

She used to take the pill. But when you’re fortunate if you remember to eat one meal a day, it’s also easy to forget to renew your birth control prescription. That was just another detail among the many in her life that seemingly had ceased to have consequences or meaning the further she slipped down that rabbit hole. 

“Okay, that’s alright. Can you lie down please, and put your feet in the stirrups? I need to do a vaginal ultrasound so we can see better.” 

Chloe nodded, scooting back and lifting her feet. She reached for Beca’s hand as nerves sprouted in her belly, immensely grateful for her presence. 

“This might not be the most comfortable feeling, but I’ll try to be as gentle as possible,” Dr. Harris said as she placed a condom over the wand before slowly inserting it. She tapped a few keys on the ultrasound machine, gently moving the wand around until a clear image popped up on the screen. It was another minute before she spoke again. “Okay… given the size of the embryo, you’re about seven weeks along, Chloe.” 

Chloe puffed out a breath as a kaleidoscope of emotions swept through her. This was her baby, up there on the screen, and the sight of it suddenly made her question everything and ask something that she would regret shortly after. “Can I-- can I listen to the heartbeat?”

The doctor glanced at her. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” Chloe confirmed. “I’m sure.” 

Nodding, Dr. Harris pushed another key, and the most beautiful sound filled the room a second later. A steady, strong woosh woosh. Tears sprang to Chloe’s eyes, and she felt a squeeze to her hand as she attempted not to let them fall. Her own heart constricted in her chest, so hard it was nearly painful. 

“Turn if off, please,” she croaked out, shaking her head as her lids slammed shut, those tears sliding down her cheeks and curling around her chin. 

The doctor shut off the machine and withdrew the wand a few seconds later. “You can put your legs down, Chloe.” 

Chloe nodded and straightened, taking the tissue Beca offered her and blowing her nose with it. 

Dr. Harris watched on, her eyes soft. “You still have some time before making a decision.”

“Did it look healthy?” She found herself asking, then figured she should explain. “I just got out of rehab. I did cocaine and drank a fair amount of alcohol on a daily basis up until four weeks ago. And I was given um...” Chloe scratched her forehead as she raked her brain for the medication name. “Gabapentin for the first two weeks of rehab to help with withdrawal.” 

Dr. Harris’ features remained professional as she nodded slowly. “The heartbeat is strong, and I didn’t catch anything abnormal. The risk of miscarriage is more present than for other pregnancies as the drugs crossed through the placenta when you were still using, and that up to twelve weeks. Problems could occur during and after the pregnancy. But the baby could also be perfectly healthy, since you stopped in the early stages of pregnancy. It’s hard to tell.” 

Chloe’s mind swam with all these possible scenarios, and she didn’t know whether to listen to her brain or her gut feeling. “How-- how much time do I have to decide?” 

Dr. Harris slipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. “Abortion is legal up to 25 weeks in New York state. Up to ten weeks, you can take a pill, past that a surgical procedure is needed.” 

Chloe sniffled, swiping the back of her hand under her runny nose. “Okay. Thank you.” 

Dr. Harris cast them both a tight-lipped smile. “Of course. I’ll leave informational pamphlets at the desk for you to read, as well as my phone number should you have any questions.” 

“Thanks,” Beca said as the doctor walked out, then focused back on Chloe, reaching out to brush her hair back behind her ear. “I’ll give you a few minutes to get dressed? I can go get those pamphlets in the meantime.” 

Chloe nodded, her insides caving in as soon as the door clicked shut behind Beca. She gripped the edges of the exam cot hard, her nails digging into the leather and her breathing turning chopped as a mix of panic and sadness unleashed within her. 

It all seemed unfair, but she knew her own recklessness was the root of the situation she found herself in. 

She eventually managed to calm herself down enough to get dressed, meeting Beca by the desk ten minutes later. The walk home was silent, and Chloe was grateful Beca didn’t push her to talk. She didn’t even know how to process her own thoughts, let alone speaking them aloud. 

A few days passed. Chloe slept a lot, and tried to keep herself busy the rest of the time. One hour each morning consisted of hugging the toilet while she puked her guts out, and the rest of her day was spent craving that warm embrace of the rush cocaine once brought her. 

The temptation was there. She knew there was a store on the corner of Beca’s street that sold booze, and she knew there was enough change in the bowl by the front door to afford at least a couple beers. 

Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to. Not after seeing that tiny blob on that screen and listening to its heartbeat, because the biggest part of her wanted this. She knew it deep down, but she couldn’t silence those same voices that had been making her life hell for the past four years, telling her that she was bound to fail at this like she did with everything else. 

Chloe woke up that Saturday morning to a churning stomach. Scrambling out of bed, she stumbled to the bathroom across the hall and made it just in time to empty the contents of her stomach into the ceramic bowl.

She slumped back against the wall afterwards, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she reached out to flush the toilet with the other. Chloe glanced up when Beca appeared around the corner, a sympathetic smile curving her lips as she stepped closer and handed Chloe a steaming mug. 

“Ginger tea. I read it helps with morning sickness.”

Chloe accepted it with a quiet thank you. She cradled the mug between her palms, her head tilting back against the tile behind her as she exhaled. “You can sit, if you want.”

Beca nodded and lowered herself next to her in the tight space, their thighs and shoulders touching. “Do you… want to talk?”

Chloe sucked in a sharp breath. “I feel… lost,” she croaked out, her head rolling to the side to look at Beca. “Before the appointment, I was so sure terminating the pregnancy was the wise option, but then I saw it on that screen and heard its heartbeat and…”

“You realized the wise decision is maybe not what you want?” Beca supplied when Chloe trailed off. 

“I’ve always wanted to be a mom,” Chloe whispered before she broke eye-contact, focusing on the mug she held in her hands as she blinked away the tears filling her eyes. “But it’s crazy to even consider it, right? I don’t have a job, I don’t have my own place, and I’m still battling with my own mind because I crave something. All day, every day since my last hit.”

“But you didn’t cave,” Beca pointed out softly. “I know it’s only been four days since you got out of rehab, but you didn’t cave, and that’s already an accomplishment of its own.” 

“I just… I don’t want to harm this baby more than I’ve possibly already done,” Chloe admitted quietly. 

Beca nodded, and reached out to take one of Chloe’s hands, tugging it into her lap gently. “If keeping this baby is what you want to do, those things you’re worried about have solutions. You may not have a place of your own, but I’m not kicking you out. Even with a baby. This is home for you as long as you want or need it. A job shouldn’t be too difficult to find. Maybe it won’t be the greatest one on earth to start with, but it will be something to get your head back in the game,” she paused, tilting her head to the side and seeking Chloe’s gaze. “And what you just said? About not caving because of the baby? I can’t think of a better proof of your ability to be a great mom. You’re already putting that baby before your own needs, and I can’t even fathom how great and out of control those can become, and I think that’s admirable. And for what it’s worth, I think you should trust what your gut tells you. I listened to my brain instead of my heart once, and ended up making one of the biggest mistakes of my life.” 

Chloe let Beca’s words resonate within her, basking in the temporary peace they brought her. There was no doubt about where her gut feeling lay on this.

“I feel like I’m turning your life upside down,” she whispered after a while, sniffling. “You’ve done so much for me already, I don’t want to keep abusing from your generosity, or jeopardize your relationship with Sarah.” 

“You’re not abusing anything, Chlo. I promise,” Beca murmured with a squeeze to her hand. A stretch of silence settled between them, until Beca spoke again. “You still have time to think about it. Just know that whatever you decide to do, I’ll support it.” 

Over the next week, Chloe found herself picturing what it would be like, caring and nurturing for that baby and raising them. For the first time in five years, cocaine wasn’t the first thing she thought about when she woke up, or the last thing on her mind before going to sleep. 

For the first time in five years, it felt like she had purpose, in trying her best to be the mom her child deserved. That meant staying clean, leaving those demons behind where they belonged, and getting her life back together one day at a time, for that innocent being that came to light in the darkest time of her life. 

She woke up earlier than usual that morning, and headed to the bathroom to pee, pausing as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. A soft gasp escaped as she lifted her shirt and ran her palm over the barely perceptible swell in her lower belly. It wasn’t there yesterday, and Chloe felt tears pool in her eyes. 

Happy ones. 

“Hey there, little one,” she croaked out, her heart swelling against her ribcage as she rubbed slow circles over her skin. “We’ll be okay, won’t we?” 

She puffed out a long breath, a watery smile breaking through. 

One day at a time. 

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

To Owe A Date

Request fill from AO3 I got carried away with.

@cecie-does-stuff-things I thought maybe you'd like to be tagged since it's DeSleep!

Summary: The new barista at the coffee shop Janus frequents is a shameless tease of a flirt. Janus finds he doesnt really mind.

Warnings: none

Ships: DeSleep, Janus x Remy

WC: 1,499

Rarely was Janus in a worse mood than he was that morning.

It had started off fine, his sons getting along relatively well for the most part. Remus had only stolen one shoe and hidden it the morning and Roman had only gone off on one tirade concerning some musical or another. He loved both of them dearly, chaotic as they were with their typical escapades and he loved listening to their interests and debates on those interests, but they often made for exhausting mornings that made him crave the sweet release of caffeine before he felt ready to face his clients, many of which acted less mature than his seven year olds.

As it was he gently massaged his temples as he kept a fast pace to the nearest coffe shop, which made average drinks at best but was cheap and on his way to the tattoo parlor so he really couldn't complain. Burying himself further in his caplet as he went (yes they were still in style, it was warm and kept his arms free) he stepped hurriedly inside, the small bell tinkling and alerting the worker behind the bar.

Janus' brow furrowed slightly as he took in the new cashier, styled hair swooping low over a dark set of sunglasses and an eclectic assortment of what looked like silly bands adorning his wrists. Sighing quietly he prayed that the newcomer knew how to make coffee already and wasn't a completely new trainee, otherwise this day was going to be a lot more painful than he had anticipated.

"Hey shortcake, what's your poison?"

Janus blinked, the server stood at least a head taller than him, making his comment instantly infuriating. "I have to wait until at least two before consuming alcohol. Unfortunately coffee is classier than wine before noon."

The barista laughed outright. "Ooooh, tired wine mom aesthetic! Don't worry, in this shop we love Karens."

"You won't in about five seconds if I'm still refused service, no ones too tall for a kick to the kneecaps." Janus leaned pointedly against the counter, refusing to acknowledge the others shameless flirting, if that's what it could even be called. The other whistled low and grabbed a small pad and pen, straightening and standing to attention.

"Yes sir." The sultry tone definitely didn't go over Janus head but he merely rolled his eyes and glared point blank. "Alright fine. Geez girl, you are absolutely no fun. Do you know how boring it is in here most days? Can't blame a guy for trying. I'm gonna guess...you're probably a lightweight, so decaf with lots of sugar hun?"

Janus snorted. "Fuck no. A mocha with two extra espresso shots and whipped cream. I'll pay the extra."

Raising his eyebrow the barista jotted down his order and smirked. "Love a man who can hold his espresso. It'll be just a minute...?"

"Karen."

Laughing out loud again, he just nodded and turned away forwards the various machines to go about filling the order. In no time at all it was done, his cup handed over with Karen ♡ carefully written on the side. Paying quickly, Janus turned to leave, only pausing when the man's voice called out to him.

"See ya later babes."

"Depends on how good the coffee is." Janus threw over his shoulder not bothering to look back as he left to actually go to his job. Walking briskly down the sidewalk he idly took a sip of his order while checking his phone for the time.

...well shit.

Concentration fully on his drink he realized that even if that shop wasn't already his regular coffee shop it certainly would be now.

-----

"Dad! Guess what I did today?" Roman jumped up and down excitedly clutching his backpack.

"No, his story's stupid! Guess what I did instead!" Judging from Remus' mud covered jeans Janus could definitely give a guest as to what he did. Sighing in mock exasperation, he shifted the groceries and continued to carefully step up the stairs.

"I suppose it'll be up to whoever can get the groceries over to Mrs. Gibson the fastest can tell their story first." That way too he wouldn't be tripping over them trying to unlock the door with an armload of groceries.

"RACE YOU!!" As soon as they reached the landing Remus took off, leaving a loudly protesting Roman to catch up with him.

"Quieter please, and be-!" A loud crash followed by apples skidding across wood. "-careful. Are you alright?"

His worry dispersed as Remus scrambled up and began picking everything up and shoving them back in the bags, his brother begrudgingly helping him. Smiling and shaking his head he turned to the door and attempted to reach the key while still holding the bags, a feat which he stubbornly refused to believe was impossible now that he had started.

"Do you like, need help or-?" A familiar voice had him glancing up, mouth running dry as he recognized the sunglasses wearing flirt from that morning.

"How am I supposed to be enraptured by my saviors eyes if I can't gaze into them like the star struck lover I am?" Janus drawled, still making a valiant effort to reach his pocket.

"No can do babe, fluorescents are just as bad as sunlight and I enjoy looking at your own eyes too much to risk blindness." So saying he reached over and took the groceries, smugly carrying them all one handed while holding a cup of coffee in the other.

Pretending not to notice his burning face Janus turned to finally get the door open just as the boys were running back down the hall.

"Dad Mrs. Gibson gave us candy-! Oh! Hi mister!" Roman stopped abruptedly in front of the stranger, who smiled and tipped his head.

"Sup kid." Unfortunately, Remus didn't have the luxury of paying attention, too enraptured by the bag of chocolate he had been given to bother slowing down and barreled his way straight into his twin.

Janus saw the dominos fall in slow motion; Roman stumbling forward and reaching out for something to grab, which just so happened to be the baristas arm. Coffee spilled in a waterfall on both of twins' heads and in a desperate attempt to remedy the situation the man jerked his hand up and away, getting a face full of ice and the remaining coffee in the process. For a moment time stood still, but taking in everyone's drenched appearance Janus couldn't help a small small to grow to a grin, a snort breaking the silence as he struggled to contain his laughter, apologizing through it nonetheless.

"I'm so sorry, are you-are you okay?"

Before he could answer he was cut off by Roman. "I'm so sorry I didn't mean to it was an accident-!"

"Hey kid, check this out." The man kneeled, setting the cup down before flipping his glasses up and letting chunks of ice fall from behind them. "No use crying over spilled coffee. It's chill."

Janus stared incredulously before letting loose another peal of laughter. He nudged open the door and ushered the boys inside. "Go clean up before you end up sticky. I don't care if you like it Remus go."

"Boy they took chaos twins to heart didn't they?"

Janus turned around and offered an apologetic smile. "I really am sorry about all of this-"

He waved him off. "It's cool babes. You just owe me coffee now."

Janus smirked and tugged on his groceries, taking them back. "I'd say I just owe you an offer to come in and clean up. Where's the coffee coming from?"

"Oh I might have a place in mind."

----

"This is not what I thought you meant." Janus stood with a deadpan expression as he took in the small cafe that was decidedly not the other's place of work.

"I never eat where I work babes." The man replied, reading Janus' thoughts.

"I thought I was just buying you coffee?" He sputtered following after him.

"Oh you paid me back with that yesterday when I washed my hair in the sink. This is because i owe you a date."

Who the hell- "You are really forward aren't you?"

The other tipped his glasses down slightly to wink. "You haven't told me to fuck off yet so I'm just taking it in stride."

"This is one date, to be clear."

"Sure Karen."

"Janus."

The other stopped and whirled around. "What babes?"

Janus ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. "It's Janus."

Smiling, the man stepped forward and leaned slightly to fix his hair, making his face erupt in flames. "Call me Remy, shortstack."

Janus scowled. "I'm not that short!"

"Babes, I'm like a head taller than you. You're kids'll probs be taller than you by the time they're ten."

Bickering all the way to the door Janus couldn't help but smile. Short just meant dibs on being the little spoon, and he had every intention of taking advantage of that.

As always this work is also available on AO3!

[thiswasinevitableid]

Picture Perfect (Indruck)

A friend on discord @morganeashton asked for this meet ugly for Indruck: 09. we’re strangers who meet at a bar, get drunk, and wake up to announcements of our new engagement all over our social media - what did we do???

Duck’s woken up with worse hangovers. He’s also woken up with far worse people in his bed. The man next to him is slim and angular, silvery hair falling across his face as he sleeps. Yep, just as cute today as he was yesterday. 

Now if only he could remember if they slept together. 

He groans quietly as he climbs out of bed; he’s in a fluffy hotel robe with nothing beneath it. So one point in the “we fucked” category.

Duck tugs the curtains, already mostly closed, all the way shut to block out harsh daylight. The man, Indrid, makes a chirping noise and rolls over, still asleep.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“I was not aware this was that kind of bar.”

“It’s, uh, I mean, it ain;t, but, uh, you, uh, you looked kinda lonesome and , uh, well, fuck, nevermind, sorry-”

“It’s alright” the man grins reassuringly, setting a hand with black painted nails on Duck’s arm, “it would be good for me to spend the night with something other than my own thoughts.”

Duck hops onto the stool next to him, signals the bartender for drinks

Padding out into the next room, the suite is just as impressive as last it was last night. Whoever Indrid is, he’s loaded. 

“So, uh, what do you do?”

“I’m a photographer.”

“Really? Damn, I, uh, I dabble in it as a hobby, mostly nature stuff, and I’m fuckin’ amazed by anyone who can do it as a job. Shit’s hard.”

“It is rather challenging at times, though I enjoy it. What do you do?”

“I’m a ranger in the national forest. Live in Kepler, that dinky little town by it, came the half hour here for a work conference.”

“That sounds fascinating, tell me everything” Indrid leans closer, grinning.

“Uh, okay. Usually folks are itchin to make some joke about trees. Or Smokey the Bear.”

“I suppose you are bear-like.”

“Heh-”

“I like it.”

“Guh.”

He finds a room service menu on the table by the T.V the size of his first car, reads it over as he wanders back to the bedroom. Peeking into the trash, he doesn’t see any condoms or condom wrappers. One point in the ‘we didn’t fuck” category.

“That was last call, sugar.”

“No, unacceptable, I want to hear the bear-box story you, hic, --excuse me-- promised me.”

“And I wanna tell it, jus’ can’t be here.”

“Come, come back to my room. It’s big, we can talk, please come?”

“Course, darlin, whoa, damn, think we better take the elevator, little drunker than I meant to get.”

“I’ll, hic, admit I was paying more attention to you than my, hic, drink quantity, my sweet.”

He sets the menu down, wanders into the bathroom but finds no pain killers. Settles for filling two glasses with tap water and carrying them to a side table. When he slides back under the blankets and rests against the headboard, Indrid sighs, wiggles closer and snuggles so his nose is bumping Duck’s thigh.

“Morning?”

“Yep.”

“Ugh.”

“Here, this’ll help.” He hands Indrid the water as he blearily sits up. The taller man downs it in one, handing the empty glass back to him with a smile.

“Thank you. Such lovely southern manners.”

“You’re welcome. And, uh, speakin of manners, do you remember if we…”

“No, we did not. There was some kissing, I recall, but we decided we were too drunk. A wise decision all told, though the temptation was great.” Indrid slowly looks him over, smile turning from sleepy to sultry.

“Well uh, this was they day I set aside for sight-seein. Think I could be persuaded to see some sights right here.” His phone buzzes. He ignores it.

“Really now.” Indrid purrs, leaning in to kiss his cheek. On the other nightstand, his phone dings. He ignores it. 

“Oughta get some breakfast in us first, fuckin on a hangover stomach ain’t fun.” Another buzz.

“Mmm, very wise. Their breakfast is quite good, you can order whatever you like.” Indrid is nearly in his lap. His phone dings twice more. 

“Ain’t you the polite host--for fucks sake.” Duck reaches over and grabs his phone, Indrid sighing and mirroring him when his dings three more times. 

He has texts from Juno, Aubrey, and Ned, two calls from Jane, and one from Joe, and all seem to be about…

“Oh no” Indrid covers his mouth with one hand, brown eyes wide, “oh no, oh Duck, oh I’m supremely sorry.”

“Married? What the fuck? We didn’t get married, we cant, there ain’t a spot for it here, what the fuck-”

“Why do they think this, it must be oh, oh dear” he turns his phone. It’s an Instagram profile, at the top of which is a photo of the two of them in  their robes in this very bed, lounging together with goofy smiles as Indrid kisses Duck’s cheek. The caption is even worse.

“Best man ever. Internet, say hello to my husband. Isn’t he handsome?” Duck reads aloud, Indrid making a prolonged noise of alarm as the phone continues dinging. 

“I’m so sorry, I, I don’t know, I must have been trying to type future husband? Which is still hyperbolic, I was drunk, but it would have been more salvageable.”

“Okay, right, we all done some boneheaded shit havin’ had a few too many, but why the fuck does everyone and their goddamn uncle know?”

“I....I never said my last name last night, did I.”

“No.” Duck’s stomach sours.

“I’m Indrid Cold.”

Duck blinks at him, and even in the midst of the panic he smiles a little.

“I didn’t get the sense you knew of me, which was part of your already considerable charm. I, I am the man you call for your Rolling Stone spread or your Vanity Fair cover, the one magazines fight over to have cover the MET Gala or the Oscars. My social media followers meet the same number as some countries populations, and I am notoriously reclusive and private about my life. Hence the uproar.” He rubs his forehead, “I am fairly certain I just wanted a picture of us; I was having so much fun, you, you made me feel so wonderful and I assumed this would be a fling, and I, I wanted a memento. In my compromised state, I must have misjudged where to put it.” 

“Huh.” Duck stares at his phone, still lighting up with new messages. He’s torn between being flattered and being really, really pissed. 

“I, ah, I will call my publicist and sort things out now. Excuse me.” 

Duck watches Indrid leave. His phone is buzzing with unfamiliar numbers now, and when he answers one it’s a reporter from a fashion site he’s never heard of. 

Indrid is handsome, and intriguing, and Duck desperately wants to see as much of him as he can. But there’s no way in hell he can handle this kind of attention, even if it’s misplaced. So while Indrid speaks, hurried and hushed, in the other room, he slips on yesterday’s clothes and disappears out the door. 

---------------------------------------------------

He almost doesn’t look at the phone when it buzzes. For starters, he’s at work, but also the last two weeks have made him never want to speak to another living human again. When he pulls it from his pocket and looks at the message a half-dozen emotions hit him at once.

Indrid: I’m fairly certain we exchanged numbers, so I hope this is the right one. Duck, if this is you, I hope you’re well. And if you’re interested, I was wondering if you’d like to meet again.

Duck: Yeah, it’s me. And my answer might be different if I hadn’t spent the last two weeks being hounded by fucking reporters.

Indrid: So my clarification did nothing.

Duck: convinced them there’d been some kind of drama, so now they all want to know if it was a money grab or I’m an escort or some shit like that.

Indrid: I’m sorry, Duck. I’ll make things right, somehow. 

Duck: Don’t do it thinking it’ll get you a second date. Because the thought of that much attention all at once again give me fucking hives.

There’s no response, so Duck jams the phone back into his pocket and trudges up the trail.

------------------------------------------------------------

Alright, maybe following Indrid’s Instagram was a bad idea. Because, unlike any other celeb on the platform, he never posts pictures of himself. Duck just wants to see his face again. 

He looks down, notices four new notifications; an account with only five posts and an icon that’s just two red circles followed him a few days ago, and whoever it belongs to really likes his photos. 

Refreshing the app brings a new post from Indrid, black background with red text.

Mr. Cold invites members of the press to learn how they can gain access to exclusive images and information. 

“Good for him.” Duck mutters, before rolling over and shutting off the light.

---------------------------------------------

Duck sits on the pebbled shore by the lake, skipping stones without counting their jumps. He’s off shift, could go home, but some evenings what he likes best is sitting here, watching the world change from afternoon to dusk. 

Someone is coming up the trail and he sighs; hardly anyone comes to this lake, and yet someone has to at the exact same time he’s trying to decompress. 

“It’s even lovelier in person.” 

Pebbles scatter as he spins.

“Indrid, what the fuck are you doing here? Uh, I mean” he scrambles for his words when he sees Indrid wince at the tone, “not that I ain’t happy to see you but...why?”

“I wanted to ask you if you were still being bothered.” The lilt is shy, nearly drowned out by the cicadas.

“Nope. Stopped about a week ago.”

“Ah good. That means my plan worked. You see I, ah, I offered every large press and small freelancer the chance to access never before seen pieces of my work, all for free. In exchange, they signed a contract that they would leave you alone indefinitely, regardless of your relationship to me, and that any writing on me and a partner would only be done with permission from both myself and them. Anyone who violated those clauses would face a very painful lawsuit.”

“You realize that didn’t do much to make people think I meant nothin to you.”

Indrid shrugs, “That was not the point. I wanted them to leave you alone.”

“Oh.” He looks back across the water, watches an Osprey skim the surface, “how’d you know I’d be here?”

“It’s a spot you shoot often, so I showed your friend at the station the photos and she pointed me the right way.”

“...You’re the person who’s been likin all my pictures, ain’t you?”

“Yes. I, ah, you post plenty of yourself, or your friend the Lady Flame tags you, and I, ah, I missed you, I thought about you so much that I wanted to see you. Perhaps that’s, ah, creepy. I thought it better than constantly trying to contact you.”

“Yeah, good call.”

Indrid shifts, awkwardly, “may I sit?”

Duck nods, and Indrid sinks onto the ground next to him.

“You really ain’t dressed for hikin, are you?”

“No. It’s not something I do often, though you make it sound very appealing.”

“We oughta go together then.” He sets his hand, upturned, on the warm rocks in between them.

“I would like that.” Indrid takes it, “perhaps we could go to lunch afterwards.”

“Sounds real nice.” Duck scoots closer, setting their joined hands on his thigh and resting his head on Indrid’s shoulder.

“To be certain I do not make a fool of myself again; are you saying you would like to try dating me?”

“That I would. But you gotta promise one thing.”

“Anything.”

“No pictures until the third date.” He grins and Indrid chuckles, leaning in for a kiss as warm and slow as the setting sun. 

[godzillagirl-14]

Wish Upon an Idol (Ch. 2)

Chapter 2

Pairing: ot7 x reader 

Summary: The Bangtan boys have the ability to grant wishes (unbeknownst to you, the brand new addition to their friend group) So when you jokingly wish you had superpowers to “help the world in a way you knew how” what happens when you wake up the next day with extraordinary abilities? 

A/N: So this chapter is more of a backstory for the reader and boys. I have no clue where I’m going with this story but I have a general idea, but if you wanna throw in ideas and theories about what you think is gonna happen, don’t be afraid to comment. Also don’t be afraid to comment if you’d like to be apart of the tag list :) 

Warnings: Drama, Angst, a lot of Action, Smut (later on), and a bad attempt at being humorous. 

Warnings for this chapter: Things get a little heated . . . sort of.

Word count: 3,054

Launching himself out of his bed with an energy and agility he didn’t know he possessed, Yoongi burst through his door into the hallway, hightailing it to your room, six other men hot on his tail. He practically threw himself at your closed door, forcing it open and almost taking the poor thing off its hinges. The whole thing would have been comical honestly, watching the Min Yoongi run like a man escaping Hell to the bedroom of the girl he’s head over heels for, but they could laugh later. In the middle of the room is where you laid in bed. Now this wouldn’t have been so bad, had you and your bed not been alight with flames. 

Yep. 

You were quite literally on fire. Standing still in shock for only a minute before springing into action, all 7 boys suddenly moved as if they got a swift kick to the ass. Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jin all helped to haul you from the flaming bed, making sure to pat out the lingering flames that remained on your clothes. Meanwhile, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook all ran out of the room, Taehyung and Jimin to the kitchen and Jungkook back to his room. 

Quickly grabbing the small little fire extinguisher on top of their refrigerator, Taehyung never thought he would be using the small object to extinguish the girl of his dreams. He expected to use it for a Namjoon related cooking incident, not this. Beside him, Jimin practically propelled himself into the fridge to get as many water bottles his arms could carry. Was he being a little too dramatic? Maybe, but he was determined to make sure you didn’t go dehydrated. 

Jungkook sprinted down the hallway to his room, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers because surely you’re clothes had to be charred and gross. He was secretly elated at the idea of you wearing his clothes. He just wished it were under different circumstances. All three of them ran back to your room as quickly as they could, all meeting their doom in your doorway where they inevitably collided, sending all of the items flying. They barely had any time to get their bearings before they once again sprung into action, scrambling to get the items together. Three grown men running around like chickens with their heads cut off. You would have laughed had it not been for the situation. 

The sound of the fire extinguisher putting out the fire made you startle out of your thoughts and you unintentionally pushed yourself closer to Jin’s arms - not that he was complaining- as he soothingly rubbed the smooth skin of your arms. 

Wait. Smooth?

Pulling away from you, he examined the skin of your arms and legs, seeing as they were not covered in third degree burns. Your poor clothes however were burnt to shit. 

“She doesn’t have any burns.” Hobi stated the obvious as he took notice in the way that Jin was looking over your completely unharmed body. As if realizing that you weren’t injured, you gently pushed Jin away from you, taking a couple of steps towards your full body mirror. Looking over at your ruined pajamas and unmarred skin, you slightly pouted. “I really liked those pajamas.” you mumbled to yourself. 

By the time Taehyung had finished putting out the fire, the smoke had finally flitted up in the air, covering the room in an intense silence as you gratefully took the clothes in the Jungkook’s hands. . . And then the smoke detector went off. 

The constant and shrill beeping noise was already annoying in itself and the boys automatically cringed. But your poor eardrums; it felt like someone was brutally taking a sledgehammer to your skull while screeching in both ears. The violent shudder that wracked your body shocked the boys around you as you sunk down to the floor with your hands pressed against the sides of your head. A painful cry tore from your throat as you felt as if your head would explode. 

You faintly heard a shout from somewhere in the room before the shrill noise stopped and you immediately relaxed, however the pounding headache remained. You saw a hand trying to hand you a water bottle, but you felt too nauseous to put anything in your mouth. 

You did, however, reach out to the hand, grabbing onto their forearms and forcing yourself up, coming face to face with the beautiful Park Jimin. He gave you a small concerned smile and your felt your skin heat up. And it wasn’t because of the fire. Quickly shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you continued to hold onto his arm as you looked around the room. 

“Guys,” they’ve never seen you more serious in the short months of you living with them. “I need to go to the hospital, I think I’ve been drugged.” 

It was silent for a solid ten seconds before the room erupted into loud boasts of laughter. You once again cringed at the overwhelming noise, stopping the bile from rising to your throat. You were so confused; why were they laughing? There’s no other logical explanation as to why you felt so sensitive to everything. It felt as if they were screaming right in your ear, you could distinctly smell each of the lingering scents of the cologne that they wore yesterday, you were hyper aware of where each boy stood, being able to feel every single movement of the drop of sweat that traveled from your thigh to your ankle, you could see the tiny individual fabrics of Taehyung’s night shirt. It was all too much. 

The only logical explanation your brain could come up with was that someone had snuck into your bedroom to assassinate you, tried to drug you and when that process was taking too long, set your bed on fire. 

Yeah. . . that had to be it. 

The laughing continued and you thought you were gonna have a stroke. “Why are you so loud?!” you shouted, rubbing your temples to alleviate the headache that was forming. The room fell silent and you sighed in pure relief, leaning back into Jimin’s frame, barely registering the feeling of his arms wrapping around you as you closed your eyes. 

As you were taking deep breaths to calm yourself down, you footsteps approaching and you automatically knew it was Namjoon. How? You had no idea. You just knew. 

Placing a gentle hand on your arm, you opened your arms and came face to face with Namjoon. Your breath was knocked right out of your lungs. It’s like your were seeing him in ultra 4k HD. You were too stunned to speak. 

“(Y/n). . . you need to listen very carefully,” he spoke calmly and clearly and you found yourself entranced by his voice as you nodded. “You weren’t drugged.” you cocked your head to the side in confusion and he wanted to coo at you for how cute you looked in that moment. “We need to tell you something, but we’re going to take you to the living room and sit you down to explain everything, okay?” 

You nodded mindlessly as you let yourself be led into the living room. Sitting down on the couch next to Namjoon, he began massaging your knuckles as you looked at the rest of the boys sitting around you. A sharp exhale pulled your attention back to the boy occupying your hand. 

“Okay, let’s start from the beginning.” 

~ ~ ~

Kim Namjoon was the son of a merchant. Selling goods abroad internationally, his father sold things from exotic spices to valuable Jewelry. Namjoon worked alongside his father in their little shop, always examining every treasure his father brought home as if it were a gift from a deity. He loved it. 

As time moved along, his father enlisted the help of six others boys, as his father was getting older in age and wasn’t able to get things done as quickly as he was used to. The six boys were practically strangers to each other and Namjoon, but they kept things polite and introduced themselves as Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook. They kept things professional, only talking to each other to discuss items that were to be imported and exported. Anyone visiting the shop could sense how tense the poor boys were. It’s not like they hated each other though, they were just complete strangers to each other, not being comfortable enough to have a conversation that wasn’t about business. 

Until it happened; All seven boys were just hauling back some goods they got from trading in Africa, when they were checking the different seasonings and spices they got back. They could practically recite the list in their sleep, always seeing the same ingredient on the list every time, but not this time. As Yoongi read off the list to Hoseok to make sure they were all accounted for, he stopped short when he read an unfamiliar name. “Huh, this is a new one,” he stated, his tone nothing short of bored. 

That was when Jin walked past them, looking into the crate to see the foreign seasoning. “Well it’s about time we got something new. I was so bored with the same old stuff, I’m glad we’re spicing things up a bit.” 

It was silent for only three seconds before the sound of squeaky laughter filled the room as Jin proceeded to laugh at his own terrible punny joke. Soon the others joined in with laughing. Some were laughing at the joke, some were laughing at Jin’s laugh, but they were all laughing together. They even cracked more jokes to keep the laughter from dying out. It took them twice as long to get their job done that day as they kept having to stop from doubling over in laughter. 

After their jobs were done and it was time for them to go home, they found that they didn’t want to go home just yet. So when Taehyung had asked if they wanted to go and hangout at his house for some drinks, they all almost immediately said yes. And they spent the night drinking, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. 

They were inseparable after that, finding any excuse to hang out with one another. And soon the friendly feelings turned into something more . . . intimate. Lingering touches and longing gazes became less and less subtle the more time the boys spent with each other. Until one day, Jimin just walked up to Yoongi and placed a big fat kiss right on his lips. And then proceeded to do it to the remaining five boys. They were ecstatic that someone had finally taken initiative as they were all too chicken to do it themselves. 

So, the kisses and lingering hugs and more. . .promiscuous acts became more and more frequent. As the years passed, their bonds only became stronger, and as Namjoon’s father officially passed down the business to him to retire, they felt as if they were thriving. One day, the boys were to travel to the Middle East in order to pick up some stock and bring it back to Korea. It was no big deal to them as they have done it countless of times before. 

Just as they were finishing up their transaction, they began to explore the village for an inn that they could stay at for the night before heading back. They stopped at a stand, buying various types of foods, their stomachs practically roaring to be fed as they smelled the delicious food. Just as they were about to head back to their inn, they spotted three small children; a girl and two boys, wandering around the market as if lost. But that wasn’t what caught the boys’ attention. They looked absolutely starving. 

They watched as the little children begged many people for food only to either be ignored or to be rudely told to leave. One man even shoved the poor girl when she asked him for an apple. The seven men watched in shock at the display, observing the way the children’s shoulders slumped as they continued walking. As they got closer, Namjoon observed the amount of food in his hands before ultimately coming up with a decision. He could buy more food. 

Stepping up to the three children, he squatted down to their level, holding out the bag of food to them. They looked at him warily, but he persisted, giving them a kind smile as the girl slowly reached up and took the bag. Soon enough the rest of the boys were doing the same, handing off their bags of food to the two small boys. The three children stood in shock, staring up at them with wide curious eyes before launching themselves onto Namjoon, effectively tackling him in a hug. They did the same to the rest of the group and the boys don’t think they’ve ever smiled this hard before, but as they watched the children run off excitedly with their meals, they felt a fluttering in their hearts. 

Later on that night as they all got their rest, after buying more food and eating their dinner, Jungkook was slipping in and out of consciousness. He didn’t know why, but he had the strangest feeling that someone was watching them. 

It wasn’t until he opened his eyes and shifted in his bed did he see three pairs of glowing eyes staring directly at him. 

The poor man almost went into cardiac arrest. 

Upon discovering the three watchers, Jungkook let out a less than manly scream, alerting the six other sleeping figures in the room as they all jerked awake at the noise, trying to get their bearings as they also caught sight of the three figures in the room. 

Cue more screaming. 

It wasn’t until the three figures stepped into the moonlight filtering through the window did the screaming cease. The three children stood before them, close lipped smiles adorning their faces. Even though they stopped screaming, they were still pretty freaked out, staring at the three children for some sort of explanation. 

“We would like to thank you for your kind gesture,” said the female child, holding up her hand to stop any protests or screams from the 7 adults looking at her in fear. “But let us introduce ourselves first.” 

With that being said, the girl and two boys looked at each other, before looking back at the boys. A light began to illuminate their figures, completely engulfing them, and if that weren’t enough to freak the boys out, the children’s skin began to melt off their bodies and drop down on the floor with a wet plop. 

Once the light subsided, the children were gone and in their place stood three ethereal beings smiling down at them fondly. The 7 boys looked on in astonishment. staring at the beings in awe. 

“Hello,” the female being started. She was absolutely gorgeous with glowing golden skin and black hair pulled back away from her face. Her body was adorned in necklaces, bracelets, and rings, all glimmering in the moonlight. “My name is Kaikha. And these are my brothers Shasme and Ghokhero.” 

Shasme had blazing red skin, black hair framing his face and jewelry covering his body as well, sporting a whole extra set of arms. Ghokhero was a pale blue, completely bald, and only sporting golden bracelets on both wrists. The three stood - actually floated, as the boys looked down and found they have no feet - waiting for a reaction that didn’t come as the boys were stunned to silence. 

“If you have not figured it out yet, we are those three children you saw in the market. And we are so grateful, we would like to thank and repay you for your acts of kindness.” Shasme said, chuckling as the boys were still to shocked to speak. Kaikha, Shasme, and Ghokhero began walking towards the seven boys, placing a hand on each boy, speaking in unison. 

“We bless you with the gift of granting others what their hearts desires. May you bring happiness and humility to the world in the many years to come.” Their palms glowed bright, nearly blinding the boys as the light later faded. The three deities looked at the boys with pleased smiles on their faces. “Your act of kindness gave us hope in this dark world. It needs more people like you.” 

And with those last parting words, the three beings were gone in the blink of an eye. . . 

~ ~ ~

You stared at the boys around the room, trying to process the information they had just bestowed upon you. 

“And after that, we went back to Korea as if nothing happened. We vowed to keep it a secret so no one would take advantage of our powers. And because of this, we were able to grant your wish last night.” Taehyung concluded, having a vice like grip on Jimin’s hands. He was nervous about your reaction. 

It took a moment to collect your thoughts, but the first question that came out of your mouth was - “Wait, how old are y’all?” 

“Uhm, a couple thousand years old.” Jin answered, and your jaw dropped. You shook your head, trying to wrap your head around it all. “Ok, let me get this straight: You seven men, are actually immortal beings from Ancient Korea who were regular merchant boyfriends until one day, an act of kindness got you noticed by three Middle Eastern gods and they were so impressed by you, they gave the gift of granting wishes which apparently had the side effect of immortality and now fast forward to today, you guys are 7 of the most famous men in the world and no one knows about your secret except for you and me and now I have superpowers over a mindless wish I made after watching a Marvel movie?” 

They mulled over your brief explanation before nodding as you heard variations of “yes” “yep” and “yeah, pretty much.” Another long beat of silence took over as you took in and processed this revelation. 

“That is so. . . cool!” 

A/N: Hello! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as we learn how the boys got their powers in the first place. I don’t know how I feel about that backstory, but I hope you liked it. Let me know what you think. How do you feel about their backstory? How do you think the story will turn out? I’d love to hear your feedback!

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “From Above”

She fell from the sky. Literally. The Joker has no idea who Y/N is, but one thing's for sure: after the encounter his life will never be the same.

The loud splashing sound makes The Joker open his eyes only to see the pool water flooding the terrace, almost reaching the lounge chair he dozed off on.

“What the hell?...” he gets on his elbow, confused after being abruptly woken up.

The waves are starting to calm down a bit and J finally gets up from his spot, curious and intrigued about the shape he’s discerning on the bottom of the pool: there’s actually someone curled up in a ball, most likely a woman.

The protective, translucent barrier surrounding your body is already disintegrated by the time The Joker dives under the water to get you out. In a few seconds you are placed on the same chair he rested earlier, The King of Gotham increasingly pissed that the security downstairs didn’t do their job properly.

“Hey, hey!” he taps your shoulder, puzzled by the white, skin tight outfit you’re dressed with: every time he touches it there are small electrical charges following the complicated pattern of your outfit.

You faintly moan, slowly coming to your senses.

“Hey, wake up!” J insists while wondering if you’re one of the “fliers”, a term used for people thrown from planes: either they know too much or have to disappear for good. Mobsters would frequently use aircrafts in order to get rid of unwanted cargo; a little push at high altitude and the corpse would be found splattered all over the ground and often unidentifiable. Did that happened to you? Were you maybe lucky enough to have escape death by landing in his pool?...

The Joker grabs his cell from the tiny table by his deckchair, instantly yelling as soon as Frost picks up:

“Are you guys napping??? What am I paying you for, huh?? How did she sneak in?!!”

“Who sir?” the henchman replies, totally alert now that the boss seems in a very bad mood.

“The woman in the white outfit! How did she pass by unnoticed?! Or did you just let her in The Penthouse to see if I’m amused by your stunt?”

“Sir,” the goon defends himself and the team. “We patrolled the perimeter and I can tell without a doubt that we didn’t see a soul. We would contact you before sending someone to The Penthouse; we know the rules.”

“Do ya’???!!” J yells so loud you open your eyes. “Never mind!” he shrieks seeing the woman’s reaction. “I’ll take care of it!” he hangs up and throws the phone back on the table.

“You!” he pokes your waist, annoyed. “How did you get in here, hm? Who sent you?” the interrogation continues. “Where did you come from?”

He watches you direct your arm towards the night sky, your index finger pointing at the stars.

“Were you thrown from a jet?” he slams you against the cushions when you try to lift your head. “Answer me!” The Joker violently yanks at your hand.

You just glare at him, analyzing the strange man shouting things you don’t care about and it makes you happy.

“Oh!” you exclaim and he doesn’t have time to dodge when your arms go around his neck; the embrace is so unexpected it takes moments to recollect.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” J snaps out of it and shoves you away. “Don’t touch me!”

You frown and pout, upset he didn’t recognize you: how could he anyway? It’s been so many years and it appears life hasn’t been kind to him to begin with. The logic realization makes you smile and The Clown lets you touch his face simply because he plans to break your fingers for the transgression. You keep caressing his face and your fingers are still intact, but he’s going to snap them soon. Probably…

“Who are you?” The Joker growls, mad at himself for showing weakness: he didn’t hurt you yet and he sure feels the urge to shred you to pieces.

“Who’s that Mister J?!” Kira sulks and walks outside on the patio, jealous the man she spent the evening with has somebody else over. She heard the commotion from the master bedroom and since her partner wasn’t in bed she went searching for him. Only to find The Joker with another girl, apparently engaged in some kind of foreplay. Or at least that’s what she believes.

“I have no clue,” he snarls while distancing himself from the weird creature that landed in his life out of nowhere.

“Don’t lie Mister J,” Kira speculates on The Clown’s capability of twisting the truth all the time. “Is she your new toy?” the envious woman inquires.

“No,” and the simple reply is not even taken into consideration.

“It’s fine, I can work with that…You could have us both in the same time…” she seductively bites her lip since this is the only solution separating her from being chased out of the premises. “Just let me stay…yes?”

“Stop talking and go to sleep!!!” he lashes out because he’s fed up with the blabbermouth: J has more important matters to attend than a resentful, casual escapade.

“Is she a dominatrix or something? I could get a latex suit for you also if you’re into that,” she continues to gamble on his patience when in fact he definitely had enough.

“GET. YOUR.ASS. inside,” he mutters through his clenched jaw, “or I’ll make you!”

He is definitely angry and Kira halts her tirade, aware she’s walking on pins and needles.

“Hey, where are you going?!” The King of Gotham inquires when you suddenly jump of the seat before he can pin you down. You run by Kira and barge in, your wet hair dripping all over the expensive rugs in the Penthouse.

“What is she doing?” the lady asks a worked up Joker rushing after you.  

You keep on running around the huge living room, touching and marveling at all the extravagant decorations scattered around the place.

“Oh!!!” you keep on exclaiming and the odd behavior makes The Joker forget his temper and watch the scene with a painful grimace.

Out of the blue, a deafening noise shakes the Penthouse; a few windows crack and car alarms start blaring on the streets nearby.

Already? you think and stomp towards The Joker, grab his hand and drag him outdoors again.

“Let go!” he slaps your arm when your white outfit glows with such intensity he has to squint his eyes: your free hand reaches for the sky and he instinctively looks up; there’s something enormous shining above Gotham with lights rhythmically pulsating each time you take another step.

“Mister J, w-what is that?” Kira gestures at the eerie apparition and shrugs in fear when the pool water is ascending towards the invisible force acting like a magnet for the strong beam of incandescence illuminating the atmosphere.

Although it’s not necessary, you cling to the man you came for because he must be paralyzed by now: the flash always has this effect on first timers.

“Don’t be scared!” you reassure J, “I’m here to save you!” it’s the last sentence he discerns as both bodies float in the air towards the ship meant to get you out of there before it’s too late. “Don’t faint!” you try to keep him conscious but The Joker blacks out immediately, not used to the advanced technology he is privileged to experience.

**************

He groans in his dream, continuing to gaze at the transparent panels depicting stars and darkness steadily moving in the vast space. Maybe if he closes his eyes really tight and reopens them, he’ll be able to wake up from the bizarre hallucination.

Nope, it didn’t work.

“I’m in a padded cell at Arkham…I’m in a padded cell at Arkham…” he deeply inhales, repeating the words meant to aid him recover from the sluggish state he’s in. J manages to bring his fingers close to his face, not even noticing the tattoos on his hand are gone: the shimmering white attire he’s dressed with sticks out, adding to his astonishment. “Shit,” The Joker reprises his words, believing his brain is playing tricks on him: “I’m in a padded cell at Arkham…”

“You’re not in a padded cell at Arkham,” the woman’s firm yet calming tone informs and he turns his head instead of just looking up at the translucent ceiling: the sluggish state he’s in is starting to diminish, panic taking over.

“Where am I?” J mutters, his erratic breathing escalating the more he remembers about what occurred yesterday, unaware it was six days ago.

“Please calm down,” you smile and he attempts to stand up without success. “I know how it feels, I’ve been there before. Just take deep breaths and exhale, OK? You were in The Inc.Ubator for days but the process finally ended.”

“The…the what?” The Joker pants and you have to distract him otherwise he will hyperventilate shortly and it won’t help the situation.

“The Inc.Ubator fixes everything that’s wrong with someone at molecular level,” you press on his chest to assess his irregular heartbeat. “Do you sense a certain clarity in your thoughts? Like, they are not scrambled and distorted?”

J has no idea about the involved circumstances that lead to his redemption, but he’s about to find out.  

“I’m not sure,” he justly concludes. “I think I completely lost my mind and I’m delirious.”

You chuckle at his affirmation since that’s what you thought also when you were saved by THEM 23 years ago.

“You didn’t lose your mind, I can assure you of the opposite: it’s fixed now. I’m sorry about the tattoos, teeth and hair though.The Inc.Ubator reads them as anomalies that shouldn’t be there: it follows biological imprints stored in its memory for each species, removing and repairing stuff that shouldn’t be there. Wanna see?” you offer to help him up and once on his feet you guide the dumbfounded Joker to one of the panels that reflects back as a mirror as soon as you draw a circle on its surface.

“Oh my God!” he covers his mouth in disbelief at the unusual sight: he has no more green hair, pale skin or tattoos; he looks exactly how he is supposed to look like without the Ace Chemicals incident. NORMAL.

“What did you do to me?” he fakely grins only to see white teeth instead of his silver ones.

“Not me, The Inc.Ubator; it’s an honor to be chosen as survivor of a dying world,” you draw the circle and the screen transforms back into the clear panel granting the two humans a visual of what is going outside the interstellar vessel.

“That’s Earth,” you point at a humongous cloud of debris in the distance. “What’s left of it…” Y/N’s voice dims at the visual. “The core had a surge in temperature and the globe imploded right before I took you. No warning for the people, nothing to stop it.  But THEY saved us from that…”

The Joker has a hard time comprehending the insane concepts thrown at him, yet he finds the strength to utter:

“Who’s THEY?”

“Enhanced beings traveling around the Universe and collecting mementos of extinct planets. THEY can’t intervene, their laws forbid it,” you pause to sniffle. “THEY predict when catastrophe will strike and  rescue a few samples before annihilation.”

J nervously digs his nails in your suit, unsettled by the news:

“So you’re one of them?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m from Earth, part of the First Wave they saved several years ago.”

“Why was I selected?” the former Clown Prince of Crime demands an explanation and he’s enlightened with the answer.

“Now that your mind was gifted back to you, do you recall the orphanage?”

His sudden silence confirms he does.

“Do you remember the mute little girl you used to play with?”

His eyes get big and you continue:

“You never made fun of me and my disability like so many other kids did,” you sadly recollect. “You always shared the sweets you stole from the kitchen and protected me from the boys that used to tease me. You didn’t know sign language but we understood each other, didn’t we?” your eyes get teary at the emotional past.

“… … Y/N?... “ J articulates the name he didn’t say since he was a child.

You nod a yes and provide more details to the stunned man standing next to you:

“I’m sure you also remember I disappeared. I didn’t. I was simply taken by THEM and brought here where The Inc.Ubator mended my handicap: that’s why I can talk. When THEY decided to save a few more before the disaster, I was urged to pick someone: the young boy that was so kind to me was the only one that stood out from my old existence. Thanks to their technology I was able to track you down and come get you,” you start sobbing and intertwine his fingers with yours. “I’m glad I had the chance to return the favor my dear friend,” you bury your face in his shoulder, incapable of letting go.

And the changed Joker squeezes you closer to him, shocked at the craziness that followed the first encounter with the lost and forgotten childhood friend. He doesn’t know what the future holds, but one thing’s for sure: his life will never be the same.

Also read: Masterlist

diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

You can also follow me on Wattpad and AO3 under the same blog name: DiYunho

[unwoundvisions]

Cayla Stark Info Fill (1982)

My crush’s name is: Tony Stark

I was born in: 1949

I am really: Happy

My eye color is: Hazel 

My shoe size is: 7.5 UK size (I think)

My height is: 5′7

I am allergic to: Certain ingredients in antibiotics. 

My 1st car was: I didn’t get a car until Anya was born. It’s nothing like Tony’s fast cars. It’s just a Range Rover. Not flashy at all but it will fit all four of us which is all I care about.

My 1st job was: Doing makeup for people. 

Last book you read: The Lion, The Witch and the Woredrobe 

My bed is: Comfortable.

My pet: We have a Coker Spaniel named Lady (yes, after Lady and the Tramp). We also have a white cat named Marie (Yes, after the Aristocats).

My best friend: Tony Stark (but also John Decon and Rachel Boyton).  

My favorite shampoo is: Anything that smells fruity.

Piggy banks are: Very cute (my kids actually have them).

In my pockets: I’ve got reminders scrambled up in them, candy for kids, probably a couple of hair ties and maybe money.

On my calendar: Birthdays, vacations, and lots of business related things.

Marriage is: The best.

My mom: Supportive. 

How many cousins do you have? A lot I think.

Do you have any siblings? No (in this universe).

Are your parents divorced? Yes

Are you taller than your mom? No 

Do you play an instrument? No but Brian has tried to teach me guitar. It never goes well.

What did you do yesterday? After some work stuff, Tony and I picked up the kids, ran errands, ran into Rachel and Rog, eventually came home to eat dinner, watch tv and get them bed.

[ I Believe In ]

Love at first sight: Not really. 

Luck: Yes

Fate: No.

Yourself: Kinda.

Aliens: Yes.

Heaven: Yes.

Hell: Yes.

God: Yes.

Horoscopes: Kinda (but they suck for the most part).

Soul mates: Kinda.

Ghosts: Yes.

Gay Marriage: Hell yes. 

War: Fuck no. 

Orbs: Like the orbs ghost show in pictures sometimes? Kinda?

Magic: Kinda. 

[ This or That ]

Hugs or Kisses: I really don’t have a preference.

Drunk or High: Drunk

Red heads or Black haired: Red heads (I’m biased).

Blondes or Brunettes: Brunettes.  

Hot or cold: Cold.

Summer or winter: Winter.

Autumn or Spring: Autumn.

Chocolate or vanilla: Vanilla.

Night or Day: Night.

Oranges or Apples: Appels.

Curly or Straight hair: Both.

McDonalds or Burger King: Burger King.

White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: Both.

Flip flops or high heals: Flip flops (just because their more comfortable and I’m lazy).

Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: Sweet and poor.

Coke or Pepsi: Coke. 

Buried or cremated: Cremated.

Singing or Dancing: Singing.

Small town or Big city: Big city.

Manicure or Pedicure: Both but my least favorite is pedicure.

Your Birthday or Christmas: Christmas.

Chocolate or Flowers: Chocolate.

Disney or Six Flags: Disney.

[ Here’s What I Think About ]

War: Is good for absolutely nothing. Pointless and it’s the worst.

Gay Marriage: Should be legal everywhere.

The presidential election: Rarely turns out the way it should. 

Abortion: The woman’s body, her choice.

Parents: Can be the worst sometimes but they usually mean well. Unless their awful.

Back stabbers: Conniving assholes.

Work: Has become more about supporting your life than doing what you love.

My Neighbors: Probably hate how loud me and the kids can get in the back yard.

Gas Prices: Always too high. 

Designer Clothes: Are a luxury but I don’t need need too many.

College: A lot of work but fun sometimes.

Sports: Confuse me.

My family: is my world.

The future: Looks very bright. 

[ Last time I ]

Hugged someone: I hugged quite a few people yesterday, my kids, Tony and Rachel.

Last time you ate: This morning, Tony made breakfast.

Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: Elton came over a couple of days ago and it was the best.

Cried in front of someone: I took the kids to see E.T and properly cried when he had to go home. They were confused.

Went to a movie theater: Actually went a few days ago with Tony, Roger and Rach.

Took a vacation: We’re trying to plan a proper one but we did take a short trip to New York with the kids.

Swam in a pool: A good while ago. 

Changed a diaper: Thankfully, Anya has been out of diapers for a couple of years.

Got my nails done: Way too long ago but there’s always more important things to do.

Went to a wedding: We went to one a year ago for one of Tony’s clients I wasn’t too familiar with but it was nice.

Broke a bone: Thankfully, never.

Got a piercing: I got my ears pierced when I was a teenager but I never wore earrings enough so the now are filled in now.

Broke the law: I haven’t really. I’m boring.

[ MISC ]

Who makes you laugh the most: Tony Stark 

Something I will really miss when I leave home is: My kids. 

The last movie I saw: E.T

The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: A weekend with my family and no work...hopefully.

The thing I’m not looking forward to: Having to cross paths with Paul or fucking Quentin.

People call me: Cayla.

The most difficult thing to do is: At the moment, answering tough questions kids ask.

I have gotten a speeding ticket: No, and somehow my husband never fucking has despite his driving. One day he will and I’ll finally be right.

My zodiac sign is: Pisces.

The first person i talked to today was: Anya Stark, she woke me up to tell me that Tony made breakfast.

First time you had a crush: Was when I was super young and didn’t realize what it was. It was actually a girl who lived near by.

The one person who i can’t hide things from: Tony Stark

Last time someone said something you were thinking: A couple of days ago when Tony told me to stop worrying about the kids. They were at home with a babysitter we trust but I still worry.

Right now I am talking to: Peter, he’s doing his homework while I fill this out.

What are you going to do when you grow up: I’m grown up so my goal is to stay young with my kids until they grow up and get annoyed.

I have/will get a job: As a manager for Queen but I’m also producing movies now when I have the time (which is rare).

Tomorrow: is Monday

Today: is Sunday 

Next Summer: Queen’s Hot Space tour 

Next Weekend: Family time.

I have these pets: Lady and Marie.

The worst sound in the world: I’m going to say it’s a tie between listening to Quentin speak or newborns crying.

The person that makes me cry the most is: I’m gonna say myself because I’ll get myself worked up over nothing.

People that make you happy: Tony, Peter, Anya, Rachel, Deacy, Roger, Freddie, Brian, Elton...and so many others.

Last time I cried: Not long ago due to the E.T fiasco.

My friends are: Amazing. 

My Car: Perfect for what we need it for.

I lose all respect for people who: Those who don’t treat people with common decency and respect.

The movie I cried at was: Again, damn E.T. Stupid little thing. Making me cry in front of my actual children who did not like him because of his ugliness.

Your hair color is: Auburn

Your dream vacation: At the moment, I want to take the kids to Disney World. They’ve seen much cooler places but maybe they’d like it too.

The worst pain I was ever in was: Emotional pain? When I was a teenager. Physical? Childbirth was just as bad as I imagined. Worth it though. Just won’t be doing it again if I can help it.

How do you like your steak cooked: I don’t eat red meat very often. If I do, it’s medium well.

My room is: Has lots of kids toys in it. I really don’t know how they keep getting in here.

My favorite celebrity is: I’ll go with Elton.

Where would you like to be: I’m happy at home at the moment.

Do you want children: I did and I got them. A bit sooner than I expected but they’re here now and can hold conversation which is fun. 

Ever been in love: Yes.

Who’s your best friend: Tony Stark 

More guy friends or girl friends: Guy friends.

One thing that makes you feel great is: Tony.

One person that you wish you could see right now: Freddie, he’s always so busy.

Do you have a 5 year plan: Not at all.

Have you made a list of things to do before you die: Nope.

Have you pre-named your children: Anya was sort of prenamed because I had thought of the name before but she was almost named Amelia for a while.

Last person I got mad at: Tony, for working through the night and not letting me come help out.

I would like to move to: We’re happy here.

I wish I was a professional: Singer and director.

[ My Favorites ]

Candy: Sour gummies

Vehicle: Range Rover

State visited: New York 

Singer: Freddie Mercury

Band: Queen

Animal: Tiger

Theme park: Disneyworld, though I haven’t been but it looks really nice.

Holiday: Christmas

Sport to watch: None but Peter likes football so I’m trying to learn a bit about that.

Sport to play: I’ve played some football with Peter but he’s way better than me.

Book: The Hobbit.

Day of the week: Friday

Beach: I don’t have a preference. 

Concert attended: Queen in Montreal, 1981 

Thing to cook: Pasta

Food: Greek or Italian.

Restaurant: Italian.

Perfumed: Anything thats not too strong.

Flower: Roses.

Color: Red.

[sakurablossomstorm-blog]

34. "You come to my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?” And 43. "You're lucky you're cute" :)

Here you are! Sorry it took so long! I know you love ‘Apartment 7C’ so these are both set in that universe :)

34. ‘You come to my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?’

“Ben?”

“Holy crap!”

Ben woke with a start when he heard the sound of his name. He scrambled to the edge of the bed and turned on the lamp next to it to come face to face with Leslie.

“What are you doing here?” Ben asked, clutching at his chest.

“I couldn’t sleep with you” Leslie mumbled, curling into his chest. “I know I have that big presentation tomorrow and you have that interview but…I just wanted to be with you tonight.”

Ben sighed. He had suggested tonight that Leslie spent the night at her place, while Ben slept in his own bed as they both had important days at work. Leslie would be presenting to the zoning board for her idea to turn the lot outside the apartment building into a park, and Ben would be going for a job interview at an accounting firm.

He had spent a month or so off work and enjoying unemployment life and also moving back in officially to apartment 7C, but now it was time to go back to work. The only thing that sucked was the small distance between him and Leslie.

It was getting a little awkward having to spend one night at her place and then one at his. Even though they were just across the hall it was still a pain in the ass.

He grinned as she got herself comfortable. “You come to me and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?” he asked, and Leslie giggled.

“Yeah, is that okay?”

“Of course” He said as he wrapped his arms around Leslie.

But it still bothered him, how there were nights that they did spend apart. And her stuff being in one place and his in another. He hated it.

He wasn’t sure whether it was delusion from being tired and woken up so early, but he couldn’t control what came out of his mouth next.

“Move in with me?”

Leslie looked up at him with wide eyes. “What did you say?”

“You heard. Move in with me” Ben said again, a little assertive this time.

The ghost of a smile crept on Leslie’s mouth. “Move in with you?”

“Yeah. You can move in here or I can move in with you. Whatever you want,” Ben said as he sat up, clasping her hands in his. “I hate not living with you, even if you are just across the hall. We love each other and I’m deadly serious about this. Move in with me?”

Leslie couldn’t hide her glee anymore, and she pounced on him, attacking his mouth with her own and kissing with all the intensity she could muster.

“Of course I will! Let’s move in here! I always preferred your place anyway,” Leslie babbled excitedly.

Ben smiled and kissed her again, pulling her onto his lap and stroking the back of her head.

“But no birdhouses or piles of magazines. We’re keeping this place clean, got it?” He ordered strictly and Leslie cackled.

“Anything, anything for you! I’m just so happy! We’re moving in together!” Leslie cried out, pouncing on him again.

They’d both be tired for their important days at work, but in that blissful moment, Leslie and Ben didn’t care at all.

~~~~

43. ‘You’re lucky you’re cute.’

It took about a week but soon; apartment 7B was on the market, looking for new tenants. Ben and Leslie spent the weekend moving everything from Leslie’s apartment into Ben’s and organising it to their taste.

Leslie went to Ron the evening after Ben asked her to move in and told him about her moving. He pulled out a bottle of Lagavulin and toasted to congratulate her. He was there too, helping them drag boxes across the hall.

Now it was Sunday morning. Ben was dozing happily in the early morning sun. Yesterday was extremely hard work, and his back ached like hell. But she was here, lying next to him in bed and wrapped around him. She didn’t have to go across the hall to change her clothes; they were all in a chest of drawers in the bedroom.

Their bedroom.

Leslie was so excited to spend the first full day in her and Ben’s place, she found herself getting restless, and poking Ben in the face, eager to wake him up.

Ben grunted at the interruption from his Game of Thrones inspired dream where he was sitting on the Iron Throne and opened a bleary eye.

“What?”

“I’m bored. Let’s make pancakes?” Leslie chimed happily, leaning on his chest.

Ben groaned and checked the clock on his bedside table. “Really? It’s 6:30…on a Sunday.”

“I know but I’m just so excited to be here, and then I got hungry, and now I want pancakes. So let’s get up and cook our first breakfast as a couple that are living together” Leslie smiled at him.

Ben rubbed his eyes with his right hand and sighed. “You’re lucky you’re cute” he mumbled as he sat up, shifting Leslie off him and slowly climbing out of bed with a loud yawn.

Leslie clapped excitedly as she watched Ben slowly drag his weary feet into the kitchen, and she quickly bounded out to follow him, wrapping her arms around his waist as he measured out the ingredients.

Oh yes. Living together was going to be just perfect.