#and one more thing at the end of the day sales are sales but I’m not going force a customer to come my till if they don’t want to
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Help request to Rayman and retrogaming fans
Unfortunately, as much as I’m making efforts in solving my long-term unemployment situation there are things out of my control and I reached a point I really, really, need help.
Besides my grandma’s recent passing, there’s been a collection of unlucky events happening to me and my family in a small time interval. Both our dish washing machine and my Nintendo Switch Lite need to be repaired. The console stopped turning on regardless what I do and it’s out of warranty already. The console’s fixing, alone, can be up to 103€ according to the Iberian Nintendo support page).
But the worst case was our car’s “death”. Days after my grandma’s funeral, the car burnt its electronic system to the point of replacing that system being more expensive than the current value of the car of the same model without problems, meaning we were forced to replace the whole vehicle to a different model. The car is essential for our quotidian lives even for simple things such as doing groceries and buying food and cat litter for our seven small felines that we own. The latter unpredictable expense is very costly and adds a bigger layer of problems on my family’s end about financial management given that my mother is also jobless and there’s the bed replacement (done in January 2024) funds I want to also return to her whenever I manage.
2025 is going to be a difficult year for me and I already recently had to shrink down my Crash Bandicoot collection to a single item for a start but it’s still not enough. Now I had to make a very difficult decision of selecting personal items from my private Rayman collection and make them available to anyone in the Rayman and retrogaming fan community to be able to purchase in case they show interest in any particular object.
Please note the following details:
Products that are shown alongside with other product or more in the same photograph square means that those items are only sold as a pack/batch and not separately. I can clarify which ones by DM if you aren’t sure through the photographs.
I ship to most countries in the world, and always with tracking code so we’re both able to know its whereabouts. I won’t accept other types of shipping due to safety reasons.
The shipping address and other sensitive information will be exclusively used to ship the parcel.
Prices will be always discussed by DM, as well shipping costs as these vary depending on the destination country and parcel weight.
PayPal only for payments. While I prefer EUR currency I can also accept GBP and USD.
I’m conscious of how a good portion of the list contains particularly rare and valuable collectibles.
Some items prices are negotiable, especially if someone is interested in acquiring at least 3 different items or more that combined make up a significant total.
All items work 100%, including the Playstation accessories.
The Rayman memory card will be formatted if it gets a new onwer.
MS-DOS era games require emulation techniques to work on modern computers and there are community projects like Rayman Control Panel that help with that.
All games are complete in the box and between very good condition to like new.
The Rayman memory card is in good overall state.
The statues are like new and will be packed carefully to avoid transportation damage.
I can consider including the matching Switch videogame to the pack if I get a fair offer.
I reserve the right to not accept a sale for reasons not mentioned here.
List of items available in the photos:
Rayman Gold [PC/MS-DOS] (Rare, Original Big Boxed United Kingdom Edition)
Rayman For Ever [PC/MS-DOS] (Rare, Original Big Boxed France Edition, it even includes a Ubisoft catalogue with unique Rayman drawings)
Quick CD-ROM Demo Nº2 - Rayman 3: Hoodlum Havoc [PC/Windows]
Rayman M [PC/Windows] (United Kingdom Edition, still factory sealed!)
Rayman Rush [Sony PlayStation] + DualShock Controller [Sony PlayStation]
Rayman 2: The Great Escape [PC/Windows] (Very rare, Original Big Boxed United States of America Edition; I only saw maybe not more than 2 copies like this for sale online in over 15 years)
Rayman 100 Niveaux Inédits [PC/Windows] (Rare, Original Big Boxed France Edition)
Rayman Designer [PC/Windows] (Rare, Original Big Boxed France Edition)
Rayman 1 [PC/Windows] (Rare, Original Big Boxed European Edition)
Rayman Gold [PC/Windows] (Rare, Original Big Boxed France Edition)
Rayman 3: Hoodlum Havoc [PC/Windows] (The manual is translated in Portuguese but the games are in multilanguage)
Rayman 2: The Great Escape Sony Playstation Memory Card (Guillemot brand, uncommon item)
Rayman Raving Rabbids [PC/Windows] (Original United Kingdom Edition)
Rayman Raving Rabbids Activity Centre [PC/Windows] (Original United Kingdom Edition)
Rayman 2: The Great Escape [Sony Playstation] (Original France and Germany Edition)
Full collection of 4 medium-sized PVC statues of Mario+Rabbids: Kingdom Battle characters
Other alternative ways to help me that don’t involve buying my Rayman items:
Ko-Fi donations (https://ko-fi.com/haruka_vii)
Currently opened with the goal I’ve referred earlier of collecting enough funds of the bed replacement expenses to return to my mother combined with the needed funds to be able to send my Nintendo Switch Lite for repair.
Art commissions
I can open a limited number of slots and draw single or groups of characters in a single digital or traditional drawing. Details can be discussed through DM!
Reblogging and sharing
If you know anyone who could be potentially interested in getting anything please share them, it’s also a help!
I don’t like to ask help but it’s been a rough timeline for me. Thank you for reading in advance, any help is greatly appreciated while I don’t manage to find a job. 🙏
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I think it’s time for me to get a new job
#personal#my manager got mad at me because stock wasn’t done#it was one tote left and she’s like I left you four to do and then she went on about how she did 5 in 2 hours#then she’s like if you need to say late to finish it then do so#like no babes I’m scheduled for 4-8 I’m not staying longer than that and you keep cutting my hours#if you want things done schedule me in earlier#now she’s cutting my hours drastically until I can prove to her I want more hours and my sales have to meet it as well#and she’s like if anyone from front stores ask for help to find where an item goes I’m not going to say no#I’ve been here for a year I know where everything is I will help them#and talking what’s wrong with that aren’t we supposed to bond with our coworkers#and one more thing at the end of the day sales are sales but I’m not going force a customer to come my till if they don’t want to#if they other things they can go to the front#if that makes me a bad sales person I don’t care it’ll come back to me in ten folds for sales#and if your wondering I’m going from working 20-30 hours a week to 8 hours#and she’s giving all my hours to the new girl you can’t even do anything right#love the new girl she’s nice and funny but it’s a punch in the face for me
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Sex & Super Smash Bros. - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: Ethan finally makes a move on his best friend.
Contains: Oral - m and f receiving, p in v, a smidge of dirty talk, praise, and one ass slap lmao.
Word Count: 4.5k
A/N: When I first started writing this, I was OBSESSED with the song Sex & Super Smash Bros. by Kyle lmao.
So, I have a few other fics in the works atm(This one wasn't even the one I wanted to post first, but it's been half-finished for like, two months🙃). BUT I posted the other day that all of my requests disappeared, so if anyone has anything they wanted written that hasn't been yet, PLEASE let me know. I was saving all the ones I hadn't written until I got the inspiration for them.
Ethan Landry was your best friend. Sometimes you’d go out to dinner by yourselves, or go see movies together, but they were never dates. Well, maybe they were. He always wanted to pay, and he’d walk you back to your apartment door every time, but there was never any affection aside from a hug.
You were so close that you even drug him into Victoria’s Secret during a mall trip because you noticed they were having a sale. He had to pretend the whole time that he wasn’t imagining you in the things you picked out, and good god why did you need the skimpiest panties and bras they had? He felt a little jealous as he wondered who you wanted to wear them for, but the truth is, you didn’t need to wear them for anyone. As long as you felt good in what was underneath your clothes, that’s all that mattered to you.
Ethan was always talking to Chad about you because he thought he had no game whatsoever to even stand a chance. He thought he was stuck in the friend zone, because you just felt so comfortable with him.
“You’re not in the friendzone,” Chad said, glancing over to his friend as he sat on the opposite end of the couch. “I think she’s into you.”
“Dude, I’m starting to wonder if she thinks I’m even interested in girls,” Ethan said, as Chad burst out in laughter. “I’m serious! What girl takes her straight best friend into Victoria’s secret?”
“She feels comfortable with you,” Chad said, trying to convince him that he’s just overthinking it. “That’s a good thing. You never know, maybe she wanted you to know what she wears underneath her clothes.”
“Do you think I should stop hanging out with her so much, and maybe she’ll see that I should be more than her best friend?”
“That’s a stupid idea. Just ask her out on a date.”
“You think I haven’t tried that? She still treats me like I’m just a friend,” Ethan sighed, thinking about all the ‘Dates’ he’s taken you on.
“You need to put moves on her. Like, show her that you want more. Start with something simple, like putting your arm around her or holding her hand. If she doesn’t pull away, she’s interested.”
“It’s just getting to that point…I get so nervous,” Ethan said, before he got an idea. “What if I invite her over to hang out? Maybe I won’t be as nervous if there aren’t a lot of people around if she rejects me.”
“Now that is a good idea,” Chad said, smiling in approval. “Just let me know when so I won’t walk in and interrupt.”
You never brought Ethan up to Tara because she always brought him up first. Like clockwork, the girl’s nights the two of you had consisted of face masks and a movie, then after, she’d always bring up your best friend.
“I think you should talk to Ethan,” Tara said, as you sighed and rolled your eyes. “What? You’re obviously in love with him.”
“That’s the thing…if it’s so obvious, he should’ve noticed. He’s not interested,” you said, as you brushed the topcoat over your nails you’d just painted.
“You know he’s a little shy. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t yet.”
“I think you’re a little delusional,” you joked, as she grabbed one of the gummy bears out of the bag she was snacking from and threw it at you. “Thanks,” you said, grabbing it off the bed beside you and popping it in your mouth.
“I’m not delusional. You hang out with him all the time, by yourself. You go on dates!”
“If they were dates, we would’ve slept together by now,” you said, as she started to smirk.
“Have you thought about sleeping with him?” she questioned, as you felt your cheeks start to heat up. She got her answer when you refused to look at her. “I knew it! He’s tall, too. You know what they say about tall guys.”
“Okay, we’re not talking about how big he is,” you said, shutting down the conversation as she giggled.
Ethan had asked you to come over to hang out many times before, but this time was different. He kept typing and deleting the message he was going to send you, before settling on ‘You want to come over and hang out after class today?’. He rolled his eyes at himself for not wanting to start with that in the first place.
You: Sure. I get out of class at 6. Is that okay?
Ethan: Yeah, I’ll order food so it’ll already be here. See you soon!
Once Ethan checked the time and saw that it was close to six, he felt his palms start to get a little sweaty. He was wondering if he had it in him to do the things that Chad suggested, because what if you weren’t okay with it? The last thing he wanted was for your friendship to come to a halt because he made you uncomfortable.
He heard his phone ding, and he shook his head once he read your ‘I’m here’ text.
“You know, knocking is a thing,” he said, once he’d opened the door for you.
“I know,” you said, smiling at him as you took in the aroma of Chinese food. “Oooh, that smells good.”
“I got your favorite,” he said, following you to the kitchen.
After you ate dinner, Ethan was trying to figure out the best way to make his move. He thought about watching a movie and putting his arm around you, but you had another idea in mind.
“Let’s play Super Smash,” you suggested, as he started to laugh. “What?”
“I win every time. Is that fun for you?”
“Well teach me how to play then,” you said, as he walked over to grab the controllers.
“I can’t show you how to play if I’m the one playing against you.”
“Play someone online. I’ll watch and learn all the tricks,” you said, as he shrugged.
“Okay.”
He noticed that you were trying to keep up with glancing at the tv and seeing what his hands were doing. He got an idea, his nerves kicking in as he turned to look at you.
“We could try something different,” he said, as you curiously looked at him. “Come here.” He spread his legs for you to sit between them as he got more comfortable on the couch. “Okay, just put your hands on mine and you’ll feel what I’m doing.”
“Okay,” you giggled, placing your hands on his. You felt him take a deep breath as your back rested against his chest.
Ethan didn’t know how he was keeping his composure in that moment, but he didn’t want it to be obvious that he was freaking out. Your hands felt so soft on top of his, and the way his arms were wrapped around you to play had his heart racing. You were trying so hard to pay attention to the buttons he was pressing and what happened when he did, but the only thing you could think about was how skillfully his fingers moved.
He was playing against someone that was really good, but Ethan started to press all these different buttons and won the game.
“I don’t know how you just won that,” you said, angling your head so you could look at him. He looked down at you and smiled.
“You helped me win.”
“I didn’t do anything,” you said, as you turned your head back to the tv. His mind was racing, thinking that was the perfect opportunity to try to kiss you, and he didn’t want to let the confidence he was building up slip through the cracks.
He placed his hand under your chin and tilted your head back to face him as he leaned down and placed his lips against yours. You were a little surprised at first, but quickly kissed him back. You felt his tongue brush against your bottom lip, your mouth instinctively opening so he could deepen the kiss. You loved having his mouth on yours, but after a while your neck really started to hurt from the angle.
His eyes shot open once you pulled away, his lips pouty and swollen from the intensity of the kiss.
“Neck cramp,” you said, as he nodded and directed his attention back to the tv. You smirked at him as he got ready to start another round. “Oh, you’re done kissing me?”
“Not at all,” he said, tossing the controller on the coffee table before he pushed you back on the couch. He got settled between your legs, and placed one of his hands beside your head on the couch cushion before he leaned down to connect his lips to yours.
Your hands were in his curls as his tongue fought yours for dominance, your legs tightly wrapped around him to keep him close. He was trying to be in the moment and distract himself at the same time, because he knew he was going to get hard. Once your hips started to squirm, he groaned into the kiss, unable to fight it anymore.
“Okay,” he mumbled against your lips before he sat up. “I need a minute.” His eyes connected with yours that were glazed over in lust, your breathing still heavy from the kiss. You had a feeling that he was really starting to get into it, and you didn’t want to stop.
“We can do more than make out…if you want.”
That was all he needed to hear before he was back on top of you, your legs around his waist again as he started to grind himself against you. You were whimpering into the kiss every time you felt his hard cock brush against your pussy.
“You want to go to my room?” he asked, pulling away to read your face.
“Please.”
When Ethan asked you to hang out, you didn’t think it would lead to the two of you shedding your clothes, both so desperate for each other. Once he was in nothing but his boxers and you in your bra and panties, he recognized the set you were wearing from the day you went shopping.
“Fuuuck me,” he groaned, “I don’t know if I want to take these off you.”
You crawled up on his bed, his eyes still on you as you got comfortable.
“It’s cool. I’ll take them off,” you said, smirking at him as you reached around to unhook your bra. His breathing got even heavier the second he took in the newly exposed skin, but once you reached down to slide your panties off, he sighed in disbelief that his best friend was getting naked for him.
He got on top of his bed with you, but before he crawled on top to connect your lips again, he hesitated. You were wondering if you somehow read the situation wrong until he finally started to speak.
“Before we do this, I need to tell you how I feel,” he said, running one of his hands through his hair as his eyes refused to meet yours. He was nervous, which was more than obvious as you sat up and waited for him to tell you what he needed to tell you. “I’ve had feelings for you for so long…and I know you aren’t supposed to feel that way about your best friend, but I can’t help the way I feel. If you don’t feel the same, maybe we shouldn’t do this. I don’t want to get my heart broken because I’m thinking with my dick right now and tomorrow I’ll be sad that the girl I want more than anything doesn’t want to be with me.”
“Ethan,” you got out, before he started to speak again.
“If you don’t feel the same, it’ll suck, but I still think our friendship is more important than the feelings I have, and I hope things don’t have to change between us,” he rambled, as you giggled and grabbed his hand that was resting on his thigh.
“Are you done? Or can I say what I need to say now?” you said, your tone playful as a small smile formed on his lips, his eyes finally meeting yours. “I have feelings for you, too. I wouldn’t be naked in your bed right now if I didn’t.”
“Seriously?” he asked, a huge smile on his face at the confession. You nodded as you leaned in to connect your lips with his again.
You moved to straddle his lap, your mouth not leaving his as his hands roamed the areas of your body he could reach. The kiss got even more desperate as his hands moved to your ass, pulling you closer so your soaked pussy was resting against his hard cock that was straining in his boxers. He gasped at the feeling when you started to grind, both of you getting some of the friction you were craving.
Your lips moved to his neck, placing open mouthed kisses until you found his sweet spot and lightly sucked on it, the feeling making a small moan slip past his lips.
“Lay back, baby,” you mumbled against his neck as he did what he said, your body moving with his as he relaxed against his comforter.
You kissed down his chest, over his stomach, finally stopping once you made it to the waistband of his boxers. You smirked at him as you sat up a little, watching how quickly his chest was rising and falling, his eyes pleading for you to do more.
You watched his face as your hand reached up to palm him over his boxers, his mouth falling open at the feeling.
“Can I-“ was all you got out before Ethan whimpered “Please” not fully sure of what you were even going to ask, but he desperately needed more.
You giggled to yourself as your fingers hooked in the top of his boxers before you started to inch them down, his hips lifting a little once he noticed you were struggling to get them off.
You glanced down at his cock as you wrapped your hand around it, salivating at the drop of precum already leaking out of his tip before you looked up at him. Your hand moved up and down as his eyes darted between yours and your hand.
“Jesus Christ,” he rushed out as he looked at you, your hand moving a little quicker. “This feels better than I thought it would.”
“You’ve thought about this?” you teased, as he mumbled a ‘Mhm’. “Have you thought about my mouth, too?”
“All the fucking time,” he admitted without missing a beat.
You leaned your head down to lick away the drop of precum, swirling your tongue over the tip of his cock before you inched him in your mouth. Ethan’s hand lazily rested on the back of your head as you took as much of him as you could, your hand moving up and down around what you couldn’t fit.
Ethan was trying so hard to keep quiet, hid bottom lip tightly held between his teeth as your head bobbed, but once you started to gag around him, he let out this strangled whimper. Hearing how good he was feeling only motivated you even more as you moved faster, your saliva dripping down his cock as you hollowed your cheeks.
“Fuck, you’re doing such a good job,” he said, his praise going straight to your throbbing pussy.
His fingers tangled in your hair, the gentle tugs making you moan around him. His breathing got heavier, your name rolling off his tongue in a string of whines. You slid him out of your mouth a little to focus on his tip, your eyes looking deep into his hooded ones.
You knew he was getting close as your hand moved and twisted around him, his hips jerking at the feeling.
“Gonna cum,” he whimpered, the sound making you laugh a little as you sucked harder on his sensitive tip. “Fuck fuck fuck.”
He had his fists bawled up, one in his comforter, the other in your hair as you tasted the salty liquid coat the inside of your mouth. You stopped sucking and switched to gentle licks as you collected ever drop of cum on your tongue, before you swallowed and sat up to look at him.
Ethan’s cheeks were flush, his eyes slowly fluttering open as he came down from his high. He lazily smiled at you before he sat up and grabbed you, flipping you so your back was resting against his bed.
You giggled as his lips attached to your neck, a soft moan slipping out once he found your sweet spot. He sucked on it as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling his hips closer to yours. You whined as you felt his cock, already hard again for you, resting against your pussy.
“Ethan, I need you,” you said, as he chuckled and placed kisses along your collar bone.
“Patience, baby,” he said, the new pet name making your heart swell as he made his way down your chest.
He ran his tongue over one of your nipples a few times before he sucked it into his mouth, gasps slipping past your lips as you tried to stay still. He gave the other side the same attention, and as good as it felt, your pussy desperately needed attention.
It was like Ethan could read your mind, his fingertips gently moving up your thigh before they reached where you needed him.
“Fuck,” you whispered as his fingers made it to your clit.
He rubbed slow circles, and you were finally starting to feel a little bit of the relief you needed. Once he added more pressure and rubbed faster, your hips were arching off the bed, your moans getting louder as he kissed down your body.
He replaced his fingers with his tongue, flicking it across your sensitive bundle of nerves before he licked fat stripes from your entrance to your clit. Your legs were tingling at that feeling alone, but once he sucked your clit into his mouth and slid two of his fingers inside your dripping pussy, you were fighting to keep your legs open for him.
He held eye contact with you as he angled his fingers just right, your brain getting cloudy as he worked you closer to your orgasm.
“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, the sound quickly becoming his new favorite as your hand ran through his curls.
The pads of his fingers pressed harder against that spongy spot inside you, your eyes fluttering closed as the coil in the pit of your stomach got tighter and tighter, so close to snapping. Once he hummed with your clit in his mouth, you felt the familiar white-hot feeling spread across your body, your thighs closing in around his head as you cried out.
He slowed his fingers a little as his mouth kept working on your clit, until you pulled away from the slight overstimulation he was giving you.
He slid his fingers out and sat up to look at you, the smile on his face showing how proud of himself he was for making you feel that good.
“I didn’t think you’d be bad at that, but I didn’t expect it to be that good,” you said, as your heavy breathing slowed.
“Well, after the head you gave me, I couldn’t disappoint you,” he said, as he moved back up to the bed to cuddle.
He laid his head on your chest as your fingers lazily ran through his curls. He wanted more, but he didn’t want to ask for it. He just wanted to be close to you at that moment. But once you asked if he had a condom, he sat up and leaned over you, reaching into the nightstand beside his bed.
Ethan moved so he was in between your legs again, sitting on his knees as he opened the condom and rolled it on. You stared at his size, a little nervous that it would hurt because he was definitely above average, and your jaw was still a little sore from sucking it, but you took a deep breath to relax before he slid his tip inside of you.
He only made it a few inches before he groaned, the tightness making his head spin.
“Your pussy is pulling me in right now,” he said, “You want it that bad, baby?”
“Yes,” you moaned, as he inched the rest of his cock inside you.
You winced a little at the burning feeling of him stretching you out, a concerned look on his face as he stared at you.
“I’m okay,” you said, “You can move.”
“You sure?” he asked, as he leaned down so his chest was pressed against yours.
“Please fuck me,” you said, before you leaned up a little, connecting your mouth to his.
He slowly slid in and out of you as you made out with him, your hands running along his bare back. Everything felt so sensual and intimate, and you swore you could feel the love radiating off him.
As he pulled away from the kiss, he softly bit your bottom lip before he sat back up on his knees, the position making it easier for him to go faster. His hands were all over you, from your legs to your chest, every touch feeling like fire against your skin.
Your bottom lip was in between your teeth, your eyebrows furrowing as he hit that spot every single time. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, a smirk playing on his lips as he thrusted faster.
“Oh my god,” you whimpered, “Feels so good.”
“You like it when I fuck your tight little pussy?” he asked, as you quickly nodded your head. “You’re taking it so well.”
Between his dirty talk and his praise, you felt your second orgasm of the night creeping up. Your hips were moving to meet his, your sounds getting louder as he kept his pace.
“I’m clo-“ was all you got out, before his hips slowed and he slid out of you. “Ethannn,” you whined, as he smiled and grabbed your hips to flip you over.
“It’s okay, baby. I’ll make you cum,” he said, as he adjusted you so your ass was sticking up in the air for him.
He gave it a smack before he slid back inside of you, a loud moan flying out of your mouth as he went faster than he had before. You were a whimpering mess, your brain turning to mush as he hit your g-spot over and over again.
Your hand snaked underneath you to rub circles on your clit as his hands tightly held your hips, pulling you back to meet every deep thrust me was giving you.
Your orgasm was right on the edge again as you tried to turn your thoughts into words, finally begging “Please don’t stop.”
You heard him grunting behind you as he kept his pace, your eyes rolling back as your entire body started to tingle.
“Cum for me,” he said, as you whimpered his name, that feeling crashing into you so hard that you felt dizzy.
Your pussy was clenching his cock so hard that he moaned out, his hips stuttering as pulled your hips back to meet his even faster.
“Gonna cum,” he rushed out, giving you a few more hard thrusts before his hips stilled.
He stayed inside of you as he caught his breath, his hand running through his sweaty hair as he smiled. Your back was still arched, your hand lazily gripping the sheets. If it wasn’t for the sight in front of him, he would’ve thought this was just a figment of his imagination. He never expected you to feel the same for him, but he was so happy that you did.
He slid out, a soft whine slipping past your lips at the empty feeling before you relaxed your hips, your body flatly laid on top of his bed. He ran his hand over your back before he leaned down, placing kisses along your shoulders and spine.
“That was amazing, babe,” you said, as he smirked against you.
“I agree,” he said, smiling as he thought about it. “Do you want to go shower? I want to cuddle, but I’m so sweaty right now.”
“Sure,” you said, as he sat up and slid off the side of his bed, before he helped you get off it.
Your legs were a little wobbly like you were taking your first steps as Ethan held onto you. He cracked open his bedroom door, listening to see if he heard anyone else in the apartment. It was silent aside from the game music still coming from the tv, but Ethan wanted to be safe.
“Chad?” he yelled, and once he didn’t get a response, he led you to the bathroom.
You leaned against the counter as he got the water temperature just right, before he walked back over to you. He held onto you as you stepped over the side of the tub before he got in, a goofy smile on his lips as he stared at you.
“How long have you had these feelings for me?” he questioned, as he grabbed the bottle of his shampoo and body wash combo off the shower rack.
You giggled to yourself as he cocked his eyebrow at you.
“A while,” you said, as he started to massage the soap into his hair. “I didn’t think you were interested in me.”
“I’ve been interested in you since the day I met you,” he admitted, as he grabbed his loofah.
You took it from his hand and put some of the body wash on it before you lathered it up and ran it across his chest.
“Why didn’t you say something?” you asked, as you maneuvered around him to wash his back.
“You make me nervous,” he said, chuckling softly. “Not in a bad way, though. You give me butterflies. And there were so many nights after we’d go out that I wanted to try to kiss you, but I was scared you wouldn’t want me to.”
He turned around to face you, a sweet smile on his lips as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him.
“I’m happy you did tonight.”
After Ethan washed your body like you did his, you got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around yourself as Ethan wrapped his around his hips. You were so caught up in talking to each other when you walked out of the bathroom that you didn’t notice Chad walking down the hallway.
“Um,” he mumbled, as he turned around, his back facing you and Ethan as you both laughed. “I guess you told her how you feel?”
“Yep,” Ethan said, as Chad stood there, blocking the path you and Ethan needed to walk in to get back to his room. “Dude, are you going to stand there all night? I’m getting cold.”
“Sorry,” Chad said, as he stepped to the side for you and Ethan to pass him. “Congrats, by the way.”
“Thanks,” you responded, as you walked into Ethan’s room and closed the door behind you.
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Miles 42 headcanons?
no one asked but i’ll deliver !!
Miles!42 x Fem!Reader random headcanons
also a lot of snippets :)
You/Reader: Blue
Miles Morales: Purple
Mama Rio/Rio Morales: Pink
Uncle Aaron/Aaron Morales: Orange
Random/stranger: Black
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gift giving love language duhhh
Will have you walk with him through malls and whatever you look at for a second too long he buys
You don’t catch on until you’re both eating at a nice restaurant, absentmindedly staring at some plant when a lull in conversation happens.
He purchases the plant.
“Fuck you mean I can’t buy it?”
“Sir, the plants aren’t for sale, this is a dining establishment.”
“Establish the fact I’m gettin’ that plant.”
“Sir—“
50 bucks down and a plant 🆙
He will damn right die if you refuse him. He’ll get all grumpy and pouty when you say he should save for a house, not for you.
convinced you just get shy when bought things (you do).
is even more motivated to buy things
“Miles, baby, you need to save up. Not spend on me!”
“This would look so good on you, Ma.”
“Are you listening??”
“Fuck, and this.”
“Oh my god.”
gets so jealous it’s unbelievable
but only when someone goes too far with you
it’s like 1–100 real quick
he’s not usually the prowling type (ha)
but when someone pushes the line he loses his shit
other than that he’s a supportive bbg all the way
“Wanna go home with me, butterface?”
“Fuck you just say?”
“Nothing homie just get outta here.”
“Say that shit again ‘homie’.”
“Chill the fuck out. Let the lady speak for herself.”
“I’ll fucking speak for my girl all I want, homeboy.”
maybe got a liiiiittle bit of an anger issue
guy went home with a broken nose and a missing tooth
better hope he can afford fill ins
he would never get mad at you though
he gets frustrated you don’t listen sometimes, but it’s never to the point of anger
feel like he has the patience of a fucking SAINT
calm and collected baby u know the deal
“Mami, we gonna have a problem?”
“”
“Didn’t think so.”
a SWEETHEART at times
stand by him being raised right
mama rio taught him to be a romantic
wanted him to take after his dad
so flowers and gifts and chocolates
followed by lovin of any kind
probably a baby for affection but doesn’t show it
so when you get all emotional about being gifted roses for the first time
and hug him and smother him
give him stupid little kisses all over
he’s fainting
poor boy doesn’t know love like u show him
“Baby, are these for me?”
“Yeah, Chiquita. They okay?”
“Wh… They’re perfect.”
“Are you cryin’? I can return ‘em.”
“No! No, no, don’t do that.
I love them, C’mere.”
when you guys get rlly comfortable, like a year and some dating, he ends up getting more chatty
willingly talking w you for hours
feels like you’re the only person he can rlly do that with
rambles so rarely that you kind of just sit in awe when it happens
doesn’t catch himself until he’s trying to name your future kids
“I’ll marry you one day, we’ll have like two, three kids. Get all nice an cozy.
You want a boy or girl? I kinda want both. Definitely not girl first, never having a girl without a brother to protect ‘er.
You’d be such a good Mami.
What’d you wan’ name ‘em? I have a few ideas—“
“..”
“But you could choose the girl cause I don’t know any pretty names. And i’ll choose—“
“..”
“..”
“You gon’ let me keep goin?”
“I love your voice.”
“Tranquila, mami.”
Takes you to every family event he ever has
sits you regularly with Rio and Aaron
they insist you call them uncle and ma
you do, obviously
miles doesn’t need to meet your family if you don’t want him to, but if he ever does he’s totally suave with them
like weirdly smooth
able to get on ur carers good side quick
when you meet his extended family they’re just as loving
his whole family is this bright dash of colour
and you fit right the fuck in
“¡Oh, hija estás preciosa!”
“Dice la estrella de la fiesta!”
“You flatter me, Hija.”
“Miles, come get your girl.”
“You look nice too, Uncle Aaron.”
“..Thanks, kid.”
“Hey Mami, havin’ fun?”
“Aight, I’m out.”
when you find out he’s the prowler you’re not really shocked
he’s hella nervous to tell you and kinda puts it off for a while
as long as you’re not in harms way, nothin matters, yeah?
no
the guilt eats him alive
he’s already lost so much, if he doesn’t do things right with you, then loses you too
he’d probably lose himself
so he tells you
“The Prowler?”
“Yeah.”
“The.. Panther guy I keep seeing on the news-?”
“Mm.”
“Miles are you—
..—Are you killing people?”
“Mami, it’s not like that—“
“oh my god.”
“These men— I kill,”
“Oh my god, oh my god.”
“,They’re bad, you understand.”
“Miles..”
“[Name]. Do you understand?”
“Yeah.. Yeah I understand.”
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t.”
“…”
“Are you mad.”
“I’m not happy.”
“Okay.”
you’re kind of devastated he’s killing people
but you eventually get it
like it takes a while
say a month or so
but you forgive quick
i mean, who knows what those men are doing, right?
(ur delulu but it’s ok)
he lets you have your space but talking with mama rio when she realises your absence knocks some sense into him
mans is going to GROVEL
he will fucking beg on his damn knees
knocks on your door and is already kneeling
will plead with you to come back to him
like i said a whole ass romantic
you know what’s romantic? a man who can get on his knees
he will suffocate you in gifts and affection
oh you like (insert sanrio esc character) ? look over there at that lifesize plushie woahhhh wonder who that’s forrrrrr
“Hello?”
“Mami, don’t close the door.”
“Miles, go home.”
“And please stop kneeling, the floor is dirty.”
“I’m not leaving ‘til you hear me out.”
looooong sigh
“Okay, fine— whatever, come inside. You have two minutes.”
“God, I missed you. You’re so beautiful Chiquita.”
“Three minutes.”
You talk it out easy, he’s a real smooth talker when he wants to be
“Okay Miles, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”
“Yeah, Ma. See you soon.”
“Wh—.. What is that?”
“Ohhh…”
“Why the fuck is it so big?”
“It said “Life Size” on the site? I was thinking like two feet tall.”
“You bought that?”
“Yeah.. I was thinkin’ you wouldn’t let me in. Would have to bribe you.”
“…That’s really cute.”
Annnnnd that’s all i can come up with i’ll probably do more later :P
#miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles morales#miles x reader#miles morales#earth 42 miles morales x reader#rio morales#uncle aaron#aaron morales#into the spider verse
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The Shape of Family ‧₊˚❀༉
As a single dad, Steve’s world revolves around school drop-offs, bedtime rituals, and tee-ball practices—and he's struggling to keep up. But you're always there, happily lending a hand when he needs it most. / part one masterlist
part two - at the rec center's fall festival, you and steve finally make plans to hang out 11k
a/n - how did this end up twice as long as the first chapter this was supposed to be a short one!! general warnings/tags here
── .✦
Utah’s pretty this time of year. Fall is in full swing. The maple and cottonwood mellow into rich shades of orange, there is a constant crush of leaves underfoot, and the crisp scent of pine needles mingle with the breeze. Your neighbors go all out to decorate. Pumpkins are for sale on every corner and the apple orchards buzz with families for the harvest. This kind of weather has every brush of sunlight feeling like a hug you didn’t know you needed.
The rec center hosts an annual fall festival, bringing hayrides, corn mazes, and costume contests. And though you wouldn’t normally volunteer on a Sunday, Steve’s hard to say no to. It’s not like he begged you or anything, a half-shrug and simple “If you want to” was enough convincing.
You’d volunteer with or without Steve. You have the time and the goodwill and thus it’s a cork on the end of your monotonous work-week. But there’s no denying that Steve makes it a hell of a lot more enjoyable. He’s the sunrise after a long night, guiding you into the days ahead. And yeah, maybe you’re romanticizing too much. Too caught up in the way his tongue sticks out when he’s concentrating or how he mumbles to himself when he forgets you’re near. But working with him is delightful, nonetheless.
You and Steve are friends now. Well, work friends. You’ve never actually hung out outside of the rec center but there isn’t a Friday that one of you doesn’t mention it while you eat lunch in his office. You’ve learned trivial little things about him, like his favorite brand of pen, the store he buys his groceries from, and how he likes his coffee– hot enough to burn, with as much sugar as he can get away with without attracting strange looks. You ask about Penelope often and he’s very open; eager to rant and rave about the latest details of their lives. She visits every now and then, usually too sick or naughty to be at school. So you’ve come to know her just as much. That she loves Barbies and Salt-N-Pepa and insects but not the furry ones.
Being in each other’s lives is routine at this point– parking beside his car, leaving sticky notes on his desk, setting your bag in his office. It would be crazy to say you love him, you don’t, obviously, but you feel like you could. And you know you’d be devastated if he left the center. Your shift assignments are arranged so they almost always thread with his.
He’s always hated asking for help, but then you came, puttering into his office with a lovely smile and open arms and suddenly it’s not so bad. He’ll ask for your assistance on more projects than not: your advice, your creative eye, your hands to hang something that he most certainly could do alone.
Like now, you trail only a few paces behind Steve, cradling a wicker basket full of decorations. He billows a tablecloth over the nearest picnic table, considering your dispute over the best holiday.
“I dunno, I’m more of a Christmas guy,” Steve shrugs, smoothing out a ripple in the fabric. “The music is just inarguably better. You get to open presents and eat delicious food. Not really a contest in my book.”
You hum, centering a plastic pumpkin.
“Penelope is like the queen of Halloween, though.” The corners of his eyes crinkle with mirth. “This morning, she told me she wished she was born on Halloween so she could go trick-or-treating on her birthday.”
You wear a similar expression, gaze flicking over to Penelope. She’s not far, crouched in a strip of dirt, parting a pile of leaves to search for ladybugs and other creatures. “I bet she’s excited for all that candy.”
“That’s all she’d eat if I let her. I’ve already scheduled a dentist appointment for her in November– But, I’m just as bad, she gets her sweet tooth from me,” he admits.
“Figured. The amount of Reese's wrappers I find in your trash.”
He squeezes your shoulder playfully, not hard enough that you should need to squirm away but you do. “Whatever. Why are you going through my trash anyway, weirdo.”
You click your tongue, “I wasn’t going through your trash! They are on the top where anyone could see.”
“Mhmm, whatever you say… dumpster diver.”
Joan, the youth counselor, whisks over to interrupt with arms full of mason jars before you can retort. Steve smothers his smirk with an answer to her question. Your tongue prods the inside of your cheek to prevent your own.
It’s like this with Steve, now. Teasing and taunting each other like schoolchildren. A game of tug-of-war, where every knowing glance and light-hearted jab pulls the rope just a little tighter between you. It’s as thrilling as it is nerve-wracking.
It’s not much later when guests filter into the festival. The earliest glow of sunset mists the courtyard in gold. There’s cider stations and pumpkin carving and a whole bunch of apple bobbers fighting to win a pumpkin pie. Monster Mash bleeds from several speakers lining the trail to the tented area you find yourself in. People dance and laugh and drink. It’s a very successful event for the rec center.
Steve plops down on the bench across from you, Penelope at his hip. A silent, self-invitation he knows you won’t decline— you enjoy their company more than people-watching. He seems to find you no matter which way you drift, even through a sea of townsfolk.
A big scoop of chili is spooned from his paper bowl into a second. “Blow on it,” Steve reminds, planting it in front of Penelope.
She does blow on it, a spray of more spit than air that merits her a shoulder nudge to knock it off.
Penelope simpers over her steaming food as Steve offers you an apologetic look. Last you saw her, she was waving her way up the stairs to the costume contest. She’s since been bundled up– a tiara traded for a knit beanie and the gown from her dress-up bin crammed underneath a thick sweater and spilling out the hem.
The string lights bathe their faces in a white glow. It highlights the beauty mark on the slope of Penelope’s cheek, like a half of Steve’s pair in the same spot. It’s not often you get to just enjoy their company. No scrambling about deadlines or standards. It’s a calm you could get used to. But Steve’s always ten steps ahead, already plotting which crew needs the most tending to when he’s finished eating. He’s selfless like that. Your feet ache from running around, but Steve’s probably worse.
“Penelope, is that what you’re wearing on Halloween?” You ask.
Her chin presses into the neckline of her sweater. “No,” she recalls, mouth full of sauce. “I’m being Dorothy.”
Steve swipes a napkin across her lips before anything drips.
“From The Wizard of Oz?”
“Mhmm,” she grins, popping the spoon out of her mouth.
“Very cool. Did you get your costume yet?”
She nods, glancing at Steve, “Daddy made it.”
Steve’s in his own little world, slurping his belly full of warm food and basking in the second of peace he‘s been given. But he blinks back into reality at your questioning stare, leaning in to hear you over the boisterous laughs of nearby people.
You try to reel in your surprise, soften your features. “You made her costume?”
“Oh,” he waves a dismissive hand, “I just sewed a shirt to a dress. Nothing fancy.”
“Still– that’s really cool, Steve.”
He stirs his food, voice torn with guilt. “I dunno. It’s cheap.”
“Costumes are better homemade. The ones in the stores are tacky. I bet it looks amazing.”
Fragments of a smile find his lips, more a peace offering than a true one.
“I painted my shoes red and I put so much glitter on them so they sparkle,” Penelope adds cheerfully.
“You did?”
She nods, shining with pride.
“It’s been two weeks and I’m still finding glitter everywhere,” Steve comments, more amused than he lets on. He can’t be that mad when they’re little reminders of his favorite person in the world.
“Are you dressing up?” You ask him.
He huffs, side-eyeing Penelope. “Yes.”
A glint forms in her eyes, a sly little smirk beneath. “Daddy is going to be the lion because he’s hairy.”
You laugh and Penelope joins you because Steve has a funny pouty face.
He rolls his eyes. “Tell ‘em who’s your Toto?”
“Cinderella!”
“No way!” You match her level of excitement. “Does she have a costume?”
“No, but I have a basket for her to sit in.”
You coo, “I bet Cinderella will love that.”
Steve snorts because he knows you know Cinderella will in fact not love that.
Cinderella is supposedly the grumpiest animal he’s ever met. She was a quick, unfortunately painful, lesson on boundaries for Penelope– not to pet certain areas or animals as a whole. Steve described her as an old, scraggly thing with a temper flaring unpredictably from one moment to the next. He wasn’t a cat person to begin with, growing up in a house with no animals probably started his revulsion to having fur on his clothes; but at two and a half, Penelope begged to feed the stray on their porch and she just kept coming back.
Steve wanted a dog when he moved out, if anything at all; but in four years he’s learned more about sacrifice than any speech his parents tried to drill into his head. And Cinderella is practically Penelope’s best friend now. She sets aside birthday money for new cat toys– the crinkly ones are her favorite– and sneaks the cat through her bedroom window from time to time. She even cradles her like a baby, not without protest and the occasional scratch, of course, but Penelope knows the risk.
“I told her Cinderella probably won’t want to come trick or treating but she can still take a picture with her at home.”
“I told you she will want to go because there’s candy.”
“Yes, but I told you cats can’t have candy,” Steve jabs her side lightly.
Penelope only pouts. “That’s sad. I think she would like candy.”
“It is,” he agrees, slotting a rogue strand of hair behind her ear. “But it makes them sick, remember? So we can’t share with Cinderella.”
Her cheek melds with his sleeve, begrudgingly agreeing with a sigh. “Can I get my face painted?”
Steve traces her line of sight to the ring of kids swarming the face painter. It’s not far. He can see well enough to recognize most of the children. Many are younger than Penelope too.
But Steve hesitates, “Can you wait until I’m done eating? I’ll go with you.”
“Daddy,” she whines, pinching his arm hair. “You take forever.”
Penelope’s got magical little eyes. You don’t know how Steve ever says no.
“I can take her,” you offer, stacking trash on your plate. “I’m done anyway.”
“No, it’s okay.” He deflates with a sigh, curling into his ribs so he can see her face. “You can go by yourself–”
Her frown washes away just as fast as she peels herself off of his arm.
“But! You have to come straight back when you’re done and you have to stay where I can see you. ‘Kay?”
“‘Kay!” She beams, nearly tripping on her dress as she swings her legs over the bench and breaks into a run.
Steve can’t hide the wobble in his smile as hard as he tries to be strong. Most of the hardships he’s faced as a parent are foreign to you, but clearly, this isn’t easy for him.
“She’ll be fine,” you reassure with a ginger squeeze to his wrist. “We aren’t far if she needs something.”
He nods, still locked in on Penelope. “I know, I know. I’m trying really hard not to be a helicopter parent as she gets older. It sucks though, feeling like she doesn’t need me anymore.”
“Steve,” you deadpan, prying his attention back. “That’s… silly. You’re her dad, of course she still needs you. Maybe not all the time or as much but she’ll always need you.”
“I dunno. I feel like she grows an inch every time I turn around. I never thought I’d say this, but I actually miss when she was in diapers. She’s cute now, but God was she cute then.” He chuckles to himself, eyes swinging from Penelope to you and then back.
“I believe it,” you grin, admiring his girl. Her cheeks are red from the cold, like two tomatoes framing her lips. She might like to wear your jacket, you consider, but she’s so small, perhaps she’ll overheat from too many layers.
Penelope scrambles into the chair when it’s her turn, talking a mile a minute to the face painter. A funny wave of emotion roves over you. There’s affection and joy and and then something heavier and harder to describe.
“I’ll have to show you her baby pictures sometime.” You hear the parting of a true smile. “There’s this one– it was her first birthday– I gave her a whole cake and she just demolished it. Had it in her hair and her eyelashes and in between her toes. She was so damn happy.”
You exhale a happy hum, turning back to Steve. He’s propped on his elbows now, close enough to discern each eyelash from the next. It doesn’t startle you as much as it just scrapes the words right off your tongue.
He’s reading you, churning, and chasing the right words all in between the blink of an eye. “We should hang out, you know? Like actually– We always talk about it but…” He shakes his head, trailing off.
He’d let the words be carried with the wind if you wanted. It’s hard to imagine you’d say no, but people have surprised him in worse ways. Just when he thinks he knows someone, truly knows them, they cut him off like he’s no more than a dying branch. The ghosts of past someones and somethings still haunt him. It makes being so forward with you all the more difficult.
You wear a whimsical sort of grin that you hide behind the brush of your hand, fighting your own flood of emotions. “Yeah– I mean, yeah. When?”
Excitement flares across his features. “What are you doing on Halloween? You could come trick-or-treating with us?”
“Probably just home handing out candy– but Steve, I don’t want to intrude on Halloween. It sounds really special to Penelope.”
“You wouldn’t! No way, Penelope would be thrilled if you came. She talks about you a lot, you know?”
“No she doesn’t,” you grin madly into your palm, peering over to her. Her face is dressed in a bright shade of orange now. With her pudgy cheeks, she reminds you of a little pumpkin.
“She does! Swear it– on my life.” He’s not lying. He can’t hold your eyes when he lies, even about silly things.
You huff, feeling foolishly giddy. ���I don’t have time to get a costume, Steve.”
“Nonsense. We can find you one. I’ll make it if I have to. The Tin Man and The Scarecrow are still up for grabs.”
You swallow, washing the sudden dryness from your throat. Why does Steve have to be so damn cute and sweet all at once? “I dunno. Would it be fine if I didn’t dress up?”
He chuckles dryly. “Penelope won’t have that, I can tell you that much. Plus if I’m going to be tortured into some itchy lion onesie I expect you’ll do the same.” He’s teasing, which is typical for you both, but it’s like you’ve forgotten how.
“Steve.”
“Come on. If not for me, for Penelope. She’ll love it.”
“Okay,” you settle. But you aren’t really settling. He could ask you to dress up on any other day of the year and you’d do it.
Penelope races over– a tabby cat with long whiskers and a pastel pink nose– yelling, “Daddy, look!”
Steve beams at her like he stuck a lightbulb in his mouth, somehow brighter than before. “I see! You look so pretty, princess.”
“I’m like Cinderella.”
“You are!” He pats her former seat beside him until she sits.
Her long lashes flutter questioningly.
“Nell, don’t you think we need, I dunno, like a Tinman or a Scarecrow to go with our costumes on Halloween?”
She tracks his gaze over to you, adopting your smirk. “Are you coming trick-or-treating with us?” Her voice is uneven and bubbly with anticipation.
“Do you want me to?” You ask genuinely.
Penelope’s tongue wriggles in her mouth like she can’t find the proper words to express what she feels. But she nods in this bashful way against Steve’s shoulder that surprises you.
“Are we being shy now?” Steve remarks, pulling her into his arms effortlessly to peck her hairline.
“No,” she whines against his sweater, overjoyed to be smothered in love. Dry paint creases with her scrunched face. It’s an adorable sight. You keep wishing you had a camera on you because this is the kind of thing Steve probably puts in his photo albums.
The moon climbs the sky quickly, draping the party in a silver veil. Many stay for the campfire and the promise of smores. But the later it gets, the crankier kids become for their parents. Penelope’s no exception, whining and clinging to Steve until he agrees to hold her. And he tries to work still, but his arms are starting to burn and stamping hayride tickets isn’t easy one-handed so he makes the hard choice to leave before cleanup.
He feels awful, apologizing to several of his coworkers on the way out but most are too drunk on cider or too high on festive cheer to care. Besides, he’s paid a salary, doing this out of the kindness of his heart. He has no obligation to be here– you’d reminded him of that multiple times. But the festival does feel empty when they leave, even with half the town still around.
ᯓ★
Steve lives in a quiet pocket outside of town on a curvy, secluded stretch of road. The directions he’d scrawled out on a receipt weren’t as useful as you’d hoped as one of the street names you were intended to turn on was smudged beyond legibility. But you made it, parked in front of a white house with a similarly white picket fence. Steve’s beamer is idled to your right. It’s strange seeing it somewhere that’s not the rec center. But it’s a familiar comfort between so much new.
There’s a tire swing knotted to the oak tree in the yard, a collection of painted rocks in the pebble-lined path up to the house, and two carved pumpkins set outside the door, caving in on themselves but not yet rotting. A lot of love is shared here.
Penelope answers the door when you knock. She’s half dressed– stockings hugging a pair of fleece leggings and a flowy pajama tank top. Her eyes outline your costume and light up with approval.
You sport a flannel and denim overalls stuffed with prickly straw straight from the local farm, courtesy of Steve. But Penelope ogles your face paint more than anything– a stitched grin and two circles for blush. You hope it’s not scary looking.
She doesn’t know how to let you inside– she’s not supposed to answer the door after all– so she hangs clumsily off the door handle until you ask, “Can I come in?”
“Yes,” she teeters out of the way, closing the door behind you with a sweeping grin— the mischievous kind that makes you wonder what she’s up to.
The foyer is situated between the living room and kitchen, both of which are missing Steve.
“Where’s your dad?”
“Umm. Cleaning?”
“Oh. Are you getting ready to go?”
“Yes, but I can’t find my shoes,” she makes a strangled face and shrugs with her entire wingspan.
“Do you want me to help you look?”
She nods, “I think they’re in my closet.”
Penelope sprints up the stairs easily, leaning over the railing at the top until you hesitantly follow. You hope he won’t mind. You were technically let in.
It reeks of chemicals upstairs. You stifle a cough and hope it’s Steve, not some science experiment in Penelope’s room. But you don’t worry long. The culprit swings around the corner, juggling several bottles of solutions and sprays. Steve would’ve barreled straight into you had you not thrust your arms out in defense, but still, all his things scatter across the floor.
“Christ, you scared me.” He kneels, tucking a roll of paper towels against his chest. “Nell, you can’t answer the door without me.”
“I looked in the window.”
You hand him a sanitizer and shimmy your hat back into place. It’s too big and far too floppy, sagging over your brows no matter how you situate it. Amusement draws his cheeks up as he realizes. You look ready to plop yourself in the middle of someone’s crops and he’s in a tee and jeans you might find him in any other day. His smiley-staring only makes you feel sillier.
“The straw’s really a nice touch, huh?” Steve teases, picking a sandy stem from your collar with his free hand. He’s got that smirk you so often find on Penelope’s lips.
You yank the strand from his grasp and poke the column of his throat with it. “I’m definitely more itchy than you’ll be.”
His fingers encase the entirety of your fist like a shell. They’re knobby and mannish, stout against your own. But there’s a tenderness to his hold as he eases your fist away. You don’t push back, though you contemplate it. He’s never touched you for so long; he’s basically holding your hand.
“Could’ve been the Tinman,” he says, releasing your fingers at your thigh.
You suck in, like fuel for a reply, and exhale a breathy, nervous laugh. “And paint my entire body gray? No thanks.”
He chuckles, eyes darting behind you. “Well, you look great. You like it, Nell?”
You’d almost forgotten she was there. She’s quiet as a mouse when she wants to be.
Penelope bobs her head behind you, patiently watching from the doorway to her room. “I have oh-ralls like that.”
“You do,” Steve confirms, fidgeting with the nozzle on the disinfectant bottle. It reminds you of the smell.
“You kill someone?”
He stiffens. “What?”
You flick the bottle of Windex, serious facade fading. “Smells like you’re trying to cover it up.”
“Oh! No,” his shoulders soften, “Just a little spring cleaning… in fall.”
You hum gaily. “I like your house.”
“You do?” His voice is light, buoyant with relief. “I can give you a tour. A proper one.”
“I would but I’ve promised a patient little lady I’d help her find her shoes first.”
Penelope beams when you glimpse at her. “I think they’re in my closet,” she shares with Steve.
“I think so too,” he says, eyeing past her. “What happened to cleaning?”
“I was but I had to find my costume first.”
“It’ll be easier to find when your room’s clean.” He sends you a look, “Don’t let her trick you into cleaning for her. She’s sneaky.” Steve whispers the last part, loud and teasing.
“I’m not sneaky!”
“Mhmm. I’ll go get ready and then come help you, Nell.”
“Then trick-or-treat?”
“Yes,” he starts down the stairs, “Yell if you need me.”
Penelope tows you into her room by the arm, unphased by the clinking of toys crammed behind the door. Anything in her way gets kicked or shoved aside without a second thought. It’s like her toy chest exploded, a kaleidoscope of pink and purple across the carpet. And no wonder it’s a mess; she starts chucking things out of her closet, adding to the pile spilling out like an avalanche—books, stuffed animals, barbie dolls, baby dolls, and so so many clothes.
You squeeze by a play tent, scanning the floor.
“They’re red and sparkly, ‘member?” Penelope calls from behind her closet doors.
You tip a beanbag over with your foot, “I remember.”
She babbles to herself as she looks, just like Steve does– little hums and scraps of thought that are hard to catch. It’s a funny thing, to see it translated from one human to another.
It doesn’t take long to find the shoes, wedged underneath her bed with numerous other things. You go prone against the floor to dig them out and hold them up by the straps. “These it, Pen?”
She gasps vibrantly. You wish you got up in time to see her face.
“How did you know they were under there!” She shrieks, snatching them from you.
“Just had a feeling,” you sit up properly, happily watching her slip the flats on.
She practically twinkles, clicking her heels together like Dorothy.
“They look stunning! You painted these?”
“Yes,” she skips over to her dresser, shuffling through drawer after drawer. Anything folded surely isn’t anymore.
“You’re a talented artist.”
“I know. Daddy says.” Penelope yanks out a blue line of fabric. “My dress is so pretty. I’m going to be the prettiest Dorothy for Halloween.”
“I know you will! You should give your dad a big hug for making such a pretty dress.”
She buckles into the costume as fast as she can, patting the skirt down with a satisfied grin when it’s on.
After several compliments and much debate, you’re able to convince her Dorothy would have a clean room. Penelope puts a few things away, but she’s easily distracted. And it’s hard to blame her with so many toys about. So you do most of the cleaning, but you’re happy to. It’ll make Steve happy– lest he finds out it was you– which makes you happy.
The floor’s mostly cleared when Penelope decides Steve’s taking too long; it’s time for your house tour, with or without him. And when he doesn’t answer her shout it’s decidedly without him. She shows you downstairs first– the living room, the kitchen, the half bath, her favorite hiding spot underneath the stairs. All the while she explains her very detailed and strategic trick-or-treating plan. Staying out until midnight is the priority, she doesn’t seem to care if it’s past her bedtime, and filling several bags with candy is also high on the list.
“And this is Daddy’s room.” She jerks the door knob several times before yelling, “Daddy!”
“What?” Steve calls, muffled.
“Let us in!”
“I can’t hear you– hold on!”
Steve unlocks the door donning the promised lion onesie and a pair of sneakers. It’s ridiculous how handsome he looks even with a stupid fur collar and tail.
“Cute,” is all you manage to say. He takes it as teasing, rolling his eyes, though you really mean it.
“Can you help me? I can’t get my whiskers right.” He taps the cap of an eyeliner pen against his cheek where he’s drawn two lines.
“Sure.” You take the stick and follow him through his room to the master ensuite.
“Wait!” Penelope shouts and waves vaguely at the room. “This is Daddy’s room.”
You pause to look it over, jovially commenting, “Wow! Very nice.”
And it is nice. There’s a rustic set of furniture striped in blue and green accents; paired well with the framed floral prints above his dresser. And the bed’s made, only slightly surprising, topped with a Care Bear’s quilt you assume is Penelope’s.
In the bathroom, Steve leans against the counter, arms braced behind him on the sink rim. You shuffle in front of his legs, skimming knees accidentally. He has no abhorrence for physical touch, you know that for certain. He’s touchy with not just you, but everyone in the office. An arm around the shoulder, a pat on the back, a gentle squeeze to the arm– he gives these out like candy on Halloween. But even so, touching him isn’t always easy. It’s vulnerable, runs the risk of rejection.
Steve smiles at you, ever-patient and encouraging when you stall awkwardly.
“Sorry,” you whisper. Talking any louder feels illegal when he’s so close. You cup his jaw and steady your opposite hand against his cheek, picturing the line how you want it.
But just when you press into his skin and flick the pen, Penelope slams a drawer shut, startling you enough to flinch. The ink slants all the way behind his ear like a jagged nail.
You gasp and recoil, “Shit.”
Penelope gasps twice as loud and Steve crumples into laughter, even more so when he turns to view the damage in the mirror.
“Oops,” you chuckle nervously, thumbing at the black streak. “This washes off right?”
“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ve redone it like four times.”
You douse your finger in water and work the pad across his happy cheek gently.
He’s watching you. You don’t see, just feel it in the fringe of your peripherals. It’s not like he has many places to look when you’re a hair’s breadth from his nose. But he might as well press a magnifying glass against your face, point out every pore and blemish and hair you're insecure about.
Your cheeks burn and the beginning prickles of sweat coat your upper lip. You brushed your teeth before you arrived, but how could you forget a mint? And what about an extra layer of deodorant? That wouldn’t have hurt. You glance at Steve anxiously and his eyes jump to Penelope. For once you’re grateful not to keep his attention.
Penelope digs through his cabinet on a quest to find nothing in particular.
You pull away to judge your first line as Steve opens his mouth. “Nell, go get your brush and hair ties.”
The top half of her face pops up over the cupboard door like a puppet. “But I want my hair down.”
“I still have to brush it. And I thought you wanted the bows?”
She considers his words– her prior words– brows pinching before she shrugs, “Okay.” The cabinet door thuds against its hinges as it claps shut, and not a second later, Steve’s bedroom door slams as Penelope charges out.
“You would not believe how often I tell this kid not to slam the doors,” he scoffs, though it’s devoid of any real anger.
You take his chin again, packing away a grin. You have to focus. “Don’t move,” you prompt.
He’s relaxed in your hold. Still as a stone, maybe apart from the slight tug of his lips when you resume drawing.
“Tickles,” he murmurs when you lift the nib.
You print another three to match the trio on his right. It’s not bad, but you wouldn’t say it’s good. The angles are skewed weird and one’s shorter than the rest. But if he wants them any better, you might not be the best person to ask.
“How’s that?” You draw back, searching for any smudges.
He spins, briefly inspecting his reflection before facing you again. “Perfect! Thank you!”
Perfect is definitely a stretch.
Steve’s a perfectionist. You’ve seen it innumerably in the office. How he’ll spend hours revising something only to ruminate on an insignificant detail after. And with Penelope, every parenting decision is subject to endless second-guessing, as if her health and happiness hinges on the smallest nuances.
But as much as he’s a perfectionist, Steve would never judge you in the same way he might himself. Your whiskers truly are perfect in his eyes, not for the shape or size, but because you drew them– wonky and all.
The ink warps around his smile. You study his face under the guise of checking your work. Steve’s a handsome guy. An inviting kind of handsome, with shallow laugh lines and the start of stubble stippled across his jaw.
“Wait,” you square his shoulders, brushing the nape of his neck to reach for his hood. The lion’s mane is laid gently over the top of his hair.
“Now it’s perfect.”
He smirks. “Sexy, huh?”
“Should leave this unzipped a little. The cougars will love that.”
Steve laughs, harder than you think you’ve ever heard him. It’s so contagious even Penelope joins your hysterics when she returns, though she hasn’t a clue what you’re laughing about.
“What’s so funny?” Penelope lurches into his legs with a handful of hair things.
“We just think my costume’s kinda silly. Here, baby.” Steve heaves her onto the counter and props her right in between the sinks.
Her dress pours over her crossed legs like a layered cake, baby blue and white gingham. Steve really did a great job with the stitching; you can’t even tell it was done by hand. And Penelope hasn’t complained about the fit once so it must be comfortable too.
“Face forward please,” Steve reminds gently for a third time when Penelope twists her neck to speak.
Penelope frowns at his reflection. “You’re pulling too tight.”
“Sorry. You have to stop moving though.”
There’s a mild curve to his lips. He’s not aggravated with her fidgeting, in fact, quite the opposite. Maybe because you’re around, he’s in too good of a mood to spoil with something as trivial as his daughter's hair. But regardless, it’s endearing as it is entertaining to care for Penelope. He loves being a dad, even when it’s frustrating. And you can see the love as he braids her hair– how he cards through knots from the ends up and slowly sections off pieces to tackle one at a time.
“I’m not moving.” Her chin droops as she scratches the polish from her nails.
Steve cups her jaw, steering it back up. “You are, monkey.”
“Monkey?” She chortles, seeking your gaze in the mirror to see if you also find the nickname funny.
“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, seizing the rubber band from between his teeth. “Monkeys move a lot.”
“Do they have tails?”
“Mhmm.”
“You have a tail 'cause you’re a lion.”
Steve hums and bends back, evaluating his performance. “There. You look so gorgeous, Penelope.”
And he really has done a great job, especially with all her wiggles. Steve takes a lot of pride in styling his hair– much of his confidence derives from it. And he tries to extend that care to Penelope; to teach her how gorgeous she is and that she deserves to be nurtured.
Penelope shakes her head disapprovingly. “I’m Dorothy now, Dad.”
“Oh, sorry.” Steve turns toward you instinctually, happy to catch your smile.
“You look very very pretty, Miss Dorothy,” you correct.
She slides off the counter, aided by Steve’s hand. “Can we go now?”
Penelope waits patiently in the foyer for Steve to gather everything needed to leave. This lasts for all of about ten minutes before Penelope is halfway out the front door, too excited to wait any longer.
“Wait, Nell!” Steve shouts from beside you in the kitchen.
You’re choosing snacks and filling water bottles. Steve doesn’t really need to pack a bag for Penelope anymore, she’s a year and a half past diapers, but he likes to feel prepared.
When Penelope doesn’t answer, he meets her on the porch to explain, “I’m almost done. And we still have to take pictures.”
“I don’t wanna. I’m ready to leave.”
“Well, we aren’t leaving until I get a picture of Dorothy.”
She sighs, lugging herself back inside like she’s got bricks for shoes. “What about Cinderella?”
“Go and look– get the treats.”
She scrambles into the kitchen, snagging a jar of cat treats from the counter quickly. You shoulder the backpack and follow her out. Steve joins you not long after, two flashlights and several glowsticks in hand.
“No Cinderella?” Steve asks, unzipping the bag pressed to your back to stock with more things.
“No,” Penelope pouts, vigorously shaking the jar in the air. “How can I be Dorothy without Toto.”
He yanks the zipper back up, then pats her head, “Keep calling. Where’s your jacket?”
“I don’t need it.”
“You will. It’s gonna get cold later. When it’s dark.”
“It’ll mess up my costume. Dorothy doesn’t wear one.”
“Let's bring it, just in case. I’ll carry it.”
Steve jogs back inside, coming out this time with a camera around his neck, a jacket over his shoulder, and a plushie in hand.
“Here,” he sets a blue stuffed dog on Penelope’s lap. “Backup Toto.”
Penelope glares up at him, insulted. “This isn’t Toto.”
“I know. But if we wait for Cinderella we might not have time for trick-or-treating. Why don’t we bring the treats? See if she’s started without us?”
Penelope deflates, stuffing the dog in her wicker basket.
“Can I take your picture now?”
“Why, Daddy?”
“So I can remember how beautiful you look tonight.”
A petulant bow creases her lips as she peers up. Round, sullen eyes connect with his.
Steve squats in front of her, taking her much smaller free hand in his. “I know you’re sad about Cinderella but she’d still want you to have fun, right? And she might show up later. I just want to get a picture now so I don’t forget.”
Penelope nods and Steve kisses her forehead, standing and backing up a few paces.
“Smile, baby. Please?” He blinks at her through the viewfinder.
She offers a strangled face– more of a toothy open mouth than a smile; not even close to wide enough to round her cheeks or crescent her eyes like the real deal. But it’s funny and just as cute. Steve snaps a photo and the expression drains from her face as fast as the camera’s flash.
You wander behind Steve and her eyes flick to you. You try funny faces first, frowning so deep your jaw aches, pulling the tip of your nose up like a pigs, winking terribly, but none of it works. Your fingers arch into bunny ears behind Steve’s hair and you stick your tongue out at the back of his head, but still, no dice.
You have a really awful idea. You’re pretty sure you might die of embarrassment. But it’s worth it to get Penelope to smile.
“Hey, Penelope? Remember when you told me dinosaurs are silly?”
She nods.
“Well, I have a really good dinosaur impression. Can I show you?”
She nods again, equally jaded.
You take a deep breath and shake your head, mentally preparing yourself and simultaneously erasing Steve from existence for the moment. A feral screech erupts from the back of your throat, the kind of sound you didn’t know for sure you could make.
Steve buckles in his crouch, barely catching himself on the pavement with his free hand. A chorus of emotions ripple his features. He’s shocked and then amused and finally focused on capturing the picture, but what resonates the most is a fondness for you.
You cup a hand over your mouth, rendering a string of different noises, inspired by several animals because what the hell does a dinosaur sound like anyway? You haven’t the faintest clue at the moment.
Penelope fuses her lips together, unbreaking.
“Come on Nell, I see that smile,” Steve rallies.
But she doesn’t give up easy. She’s like Steve in that way.
As a last resort, you press your lips to your mouth, blowing a raspberry and screwing your face in disgust. “Oh my God, Steve! Did you just fart?”
He gapes at you, then Penelope, tickled and tongue-tied for comebacks. He can’t think straight, not when you’re making a delightful fool out of yourself, on his behalf, especially. As far as he’s concerned, Penelope’s smiling now or at least failing awfully at hiding it. So he takes several photos of her as she unravels into a giggly heap on the driveway.
Certainly one of them is photo-album-worthy, but you continue your stunts anyway. “Goodness, what did you eat today?” You backpedal a few steps, fanning the surrounding air, partially to hide your own laugh. “Penelope do you smell that?”
“Ew! Daddy!”
You aren’t sure if Penelope actually believes you or if she just wants to join the fun but either way, she’s convincing.
“I didn’t do it!” Steve defends, dropping the camera on its sling and raising his hands in surrender. “I think it was Penelope this whole time.”
You gasp. “Penelope!”
“I didn’t!” She cries, shaking her head aggressively. “I promise, I didn’t!”
“I dunno. The closer I get the more stinky it smells.” Steve slinks up to her with outstretched hands that threaten tickles.
She screams when he snatches her up, swearing up and down, “I didn’t, Daddy!”
He’s well-practiced at being the tickle monster; knows every sensitive strip of skin to target. She was doomed from the start. Giggles spill out in jagged layers punctuated with gasps of air. Steve tickles her all the way down the driveway to the car, out of breath himself by the time he sets her on the trunk.
Penelope deliriously eyes his hands where they rest on the beamer.
“You ready to go trick-or-treating, Little Miss Dorothy?” You ask.
She nods, dimples deepening with mirth.
“Here. Will you start it?” Steve fishes his keys out of his pocket and tosses them to you. “Come on, pretty girl.”
She slides into her car seat happily, bouncing with excitement as he buckles her in. Steve’s told you before it’s not always so easy.
“I really didn’t fart,” Penelope says.
He chuckles, sewing a kiss to her cheek, “I know, baby. We’re just kidding.”
Steve settles into the driver’s seat, depositing the stack of developed polaroids in your lap. You shuffle through as he backs out, flashing him your favorites; the best is one where she’s planted a hand on her hip and is rolling her eyes. You adore this little drama queen more and more every day.
The drive’s only a few minutes, just to a denser part of the neighborhood to avoid long stretches with no houses. Steve parks against an empty grass lot behind another car. This area’s already bustling with kids which adds to Penelope’s anticipation.
“Daddy, look– it’s Minnie Mouse!”
Steve inspects the crowd through the window. “Yeah, you remember when you were Minnie Mouse?”
“I was?”
“Mhmm. You had ears and I painted your face. You were little.” He unbuckles, grabbing the backpack stashed at your feet.
“Oh. Am I still little?”
He pauses to melt, just to himself and only a bit. It’s too early to be sentimental– a long night of fun awaits. Steve cranes over his seat to see her face. “Yes, you’re still little. But you’re growing a lot. I think you might be as tall as me, one day.”
“Nooo,” she giggles, waving her foot at him.
“I dunno,” he sing-songs back, squeezing her shoe before turning back around.
Steve distributes a handful of glowsticks, shoving a few extra in Penelope’s basket. You guys start down the block as the sun sinks below the treeline, more than enough time to complete Penelope’s plan which she reminds you of. She takes Steve’s hand, then yours, and it strikes you suddenly how much you appear as a family to outsiders. It’s not an unwelcome feeling, just a strange one.
At the first house, Penelope knocks hard and declares to the elderly woman who answers, “Trick or treat!” She repeats it, insisting with wide eyes that she deserves two pieces of candy for her double effort. And the woman can’t resist her charm, obliging with a handful of pieces. Steve jokes it off, calls her a bargainer, but you gawk at the interaction.
At the second house, she points to you and Steve, arguing you deserve candy too since you’re both in costume. And it works, scoring you each a piece that ends up in her tote anyway. By the third, you can’t keep a straight face, her antics are hilariously cute and you compliment Steve for raising such a little mastermind.
You fall into a routine steadily, loafing along the road with Steve while Penelope trots up to each house.
“Last year she was Snow White and the year before a cat,” Steve explains when you ask.
“She likes princesses’.”
“Less so now but yeah. She used to say she wanted to be a princess when she grew up.”
“Can’t blame her.” You watch her fondly from afar. She picks a piece of candy off the ground and debates before tossing it in with the others. “What does she wanna be now?”
“Changes all the time. Last it was a detective.” He beckons Penelope over. “Nell, what do you want to be when you grow up?”
She fiddles with her basket handle. You’ve done two streets and it’s almost full. You're starting to think you’ll have to buy a pillowcase off of someone.
“Umm… Can I be a trick-or-treater?”
“What!” Steve flips her braid over her shoulder, “That’s just for one day, goofball.”
“Well… then,” she hums, squinting at the surrounding swarm of characters and creatures. “Maybe a pirate?”
You and Steve share a look of amusement. You do that a lot now. It’s instinctual. Finding each other's eyes, even in a room full of people it’s easy. Sometimes there’s just too much joy not to share.
“Daddy, how many houses are left?”
“There’s quite a few on this street. You tired?”
“No. Can I see? I want to count.”
She doesn’t seem tired to you but Steve’s able to read her with the tiniest details. It’s like he’s got superpowers sometimes– dad superpowers. But maybe he’s just guessing, it’s getting closer to bedtime.
Steve boosts her onto his shoulders with a hefty groan about “getting old” which you bicker over because he’s only twenty-six.
Penelope counts eleven houses, eight with lights on, but buzzes about a particular home illuminated with rainbow LEDs and a giant spider. And it’s even cooler than she described up close, mansion-like, decked out with spotlights and decorations taller than you and Steve combined.
A motionless clown holds a bloody bucket of candy outside. Their decorations are so extravagant, it’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s fake. But you’re pretty sure the clown just blinked and you make sure Steve’s aware of that, not that he was letting Penelope go alone anyway.
Steve scoops Penelope up before she gets very far up the driveway despite her complaints.
“I’m not scared, Daddy,” she assures. And there’s nothing that tells you she is– she’s just as cheery and bright-eyed as before.
“I know, princess.” He rubs her arm, scanning for other statues with the potential to come alive. “I’m kinda scared, though.”
She tips her head at him, puzzled because it’s always the other way around. But her arms coil around his neck, a loving press of affection that she learned from him.
And whether he’s actually afraid to be jumpscared or just subconsciously ingraining in her that it’s okay if she is, you aren’t really sure. Probably both, and either way, it warms your insides.
The clown cocks its head slowly when Penelope reaches in the bowl.
She cocks her head back, innocently amused. “Trick-or-treat?”
The clown nods, pushing the bowl toward her.
Steve sags just a hair but remains very much on high alert.
You mouth your appreciation— “Thanks.” Thanks for not scaring my coworker-friends-child who I’ve grown really fond of and would hate to see cry.
“Daddy, can we go in there?” Penelope points to a tunnel opening, fringed with black streamers and flashing lights– some sort of haunted house walk-through that wraps around the home.
“No, baby. That’s for big kids.”
She spots a group of teenagers exit the other side, screaming, laughing, and doubling over each other into the grass.
“I really wanna go– please, I’ll be so brave. I’m not even scared,” she pleads, flashing him a wobbly frown.
But there’s no expression she could pull right now that would change his mind, not when he hears a chainsaw buzzing inside. She could throw herself on the ground and kick and cry and he’d still refuse. He knows enough kids that have been traumatized by horror-movie-type creatures and characters; he’ll be damned if his daughter becomes one of them.
Penelope sulks for a few houses but she has loads more candy to collect and decides not to waste her time for too long.
“Can you hold this?” She thrusts her basket toward Steve. It’s overflowing at this point; you’ve all started cramming candy in your pockets, hoping it’s cold enough outside that nothing melts. Steve’s been beating himself up for three blocks for forgetting the backpack in the car.
“Sure,” he says, retracting his hand from his pocket.
But before he takes it, you joke, “Better keep an eye on him. He might eat some when you’re not lookin’.”
Penelope studies him for a long moment before shifting the bag toward you.
“Penelope! You don’t really believe that do you?” He scoffs, breathily laughing.
You cackle as she shrugs and sprints to the next house.
Steve bumps your shoulder, snaking a hand in the basket to steal a pack of M&Ms off the top. “Blowin’ my whole operation.”
“Steve,” you scold and bump him back. “Don’t get me in trouble.”
“She won’t notice.” He waves you off, tearing the wrapper with his teeth. “But if she does I’m saying it was you.”
You whack his arm, glowing bright as the moon, “Asshole.”
Penelope doesn’t complain about her feet aching once the whole night and you know they probably do because yours started hurting forever ago. Surely she gets some kid-sized Oscar for that. And Steve being the great dad he is offers to carry her on the way back to the car anyway.
“Daddy?”
Steve hums, hoisting her up where she slips.
“Can we go trick or treating tomorrow?”
He glances at you, confirming you also hear this cuteness. “No, baby. Tomorrow’s not Halloween.”
“I know, but we should still go. I bet lots of people still have candy. Like, leftovers.” She yawns into his shoulder where his fur hood has been tugged down to warm his neck and double as a makeshift pillow.
“Don’t you have enough candy?”
“No. I need more Reese’s for you.”
“You’re gonna give them to me?”
“Only some. I like them too.”
“That’s kind of you.”
Her eyes are half-lidded and struggling, but she’s still awake as Steve stows her into her car seat. She chatters sluggishly to keep herself up and you and Steve entertain it; it’ll make bedtime easier if she doesn’t fall asleep in the car. Perhaps handing her a pack of Smarties was overkill because apparently, it has enough sugar to wire her longer than the five-minute drive home.
No slower than Steve can lock the front door, Penelope dumps the contents of her bag on the floor. A bouquet of candy wrappers, big and small, enough to last her months if she’s patient.
“You can have five more pieces tonight.”
Penelope smirks at Steve before he’s even finished. “Ten?”
“Six. But you have to brush your teeth for twice as long.” Before she can rebuttal he shakes his head. “Final offer.”
“Fine,” she huffs, combing through her pile. She sorts them into categories while Steve prepares her bath. It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is already on– Steve has a bad habit of forgetting to turn the TV off when he leaves– but you find the remote when Penelope asks you to turn the volume up.
“You can have these,” she announces, pushing a chunk of her goodies toward you. It’s mostly things she doesn’t like: twizzlers and dark chocolate and anything with peanuts. But she did sneak in one of your favorites you’d mentioned earlier that night. She really is a sweetheart.
“Thank you, Penelope. That’s very nice of you.”
“These are for Daddy,” she points to a second pile, smacking loudly on the gummy bear she just decapitated. “He loves chocolate but he got a cavity once because he ate too much.”
“Are you talking about me?” Steve hollers, clambering down the stairs two at a time.
“No?” Penelope giggles.
His hands snap to his hips once he treks into the living room. “Alright, it’s bath time then bedtime Miss Dorothy.”
Penelope looks utterly betrayed. She’s only eaten three things and– “It’s not even late yet,” she whines.
He pretends to check his watch, “It is.”
It’s not but she can’t tell time yet.
“Can we watch Oz, Daddy, please? There’s no school tomorrow, ‘member?”
“We watched it last night, peanut. Why don’t we watch a Halloween movie?”
Peanut, pumpkin, princess, he calls her all sorts of cute things. Is it wrong to wish he called you cute things too?
“I wanna watch Oz. I’m Dorothy so we have to.” She drags out the last syllable until she runs out of breath.
Penelope’s over-tired. Delirious and whiny and easily hysterical when she doesn’t get her way. And it’s not that Steve thinks he should give in when she’s like this, he’s just tired too. And you’re here and it’s the weekend so what will one movie really do? He can guarantee she’ll fall asleep during it anyway.
“Okay. Only if you’re super-duper fast in the bath.”
She shouts and whizzes upstairs.
Steve diverts his attention to you, “You wanna stay? I can make popcorn.”
Of course, you’d love to stay, and not just for the promise of popcorn, but you’re afraid if you do, you’ll never want to leave.
“Are you sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He makes a face– a ridiculously lovely one. “Go sit. We’ll be quick.”
They aren’t quick but there are photo albums on the coffee table that you’re happy to look through in the meantime. You flick through beats of their life like stills of a movie. There are baby photos, school pictures, movie stubs, plane tickets, and several people you don’t know the names of. It’s weird– getting snippets of things about them you had no idea of. You’re filling the gaps as you go.
Penelope returns first, frolicking her way to the entertainment center in fresh pajamas. She’s on a mission by the looks of it, making a mess of the VHS collection in the cabinet. By the time Steve arrives, most of the films are splayed across the carpet.
“Oz is already in, silly goose. We watched it yesterday remember?”
Penelope drops the tape in her hands, “Oh.”
Steve hunches over her, slotting the films away one by one. She doesn’t help much, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
Penelope clambers onto the couch beside you and Steve beside her. It’s a long sectional, enough room for several others. But Penelope scoots in right beside you so you're hip to hip. And Steve makes himself comfortable more in the middle cushion than the farthest.
His onesie has been traded for sweats and his whiskers scrubbed away– though a faded, gray smear crosses his jawline. You consider telling him, or licking your thumb and scratching it away yourself, but it makes you feel less weird to be the only one still in costume so you let it stay.
“I like these,” you tug the cotton pant leg of Penelope’s outfit. It’s a matching set, frilly and plaid with a black cat stamped to the torso.
She tucks her lower lip away sheepishly and pushes her crown into your shoulder. Her hair's damp, soaking your sleeve cold, but you fawn at the affection more than anything.
“Did you find that picture? From her first birthday? I think it’s in there.” Steve gestures toward the closed album in your lap with the remote but remains glued to the TV.
“No, I didn’t finish looking.”
“I wanna see,” Penelope arches over your legs, prying the book open.
Steve rewinds the film to the start and pauses it so he can look too.
You thumb the plastic sheet over a recent image of Penelope scrunching her nose at the camera, a riot of stickers across her face.
“RoRo!” She taps the photo beside it. It’s a haphazard blur, most likely captured by Penelope; you make out the shape of Steve first, then the less angular, slightly shorter person– a woman, RoRo. You think Penelope’s mentioned her before but nothing about the picture rings any bells.
“Mhmm. That’s Robin. Remember this was at the airport?”
“Is that when we got pizza?”
“Yeah!” Steve rubs her arm. “You have a good memory.”
You turn the page, revealing a set of grainy, blue-tinted photos from the same roll of film. Steve looks young for his age now, but he looked like a baby then. Strangely though when there’s an actual infant in his arms. He was thinner then but even softer in the face. Not unhappy, per se, but maybe missing a lightness he has now.
“This was on my twenty-third birthday,” he explains. “Look how little you were!”
“Did I eat cake?”
“No, you were too young, baby.” He chuckles, pointing to another photo. “You tried a banana for the first time in this one.”
“I like bananas.”
“You didn’t used to.”
Steve and Penelope share slices of their pasts fondly. You study the photos, compare these reflections to the people you find yourself next to. There’s an unexpected pinch in your chest– not getting the chance to know these versions of them, it makes you sad. But it’s a happy sort of sad. You’re grateful to know them now.
Penelope begs to flip through another album but Steve decides it’ll be too late to finish The Wizard of Oz if they do. His true reluctance stems from how emotional the first one made him– though you’ll pretend not to notice for his sake.
Steve bets Penelope an extra Reeses that she’ll fall asleep by the time Dorothy meets the scarecrow. It’s unfair, really. You tell Penelope not to pinky promise it but she does. And she loses awfully, yawning within five minutes and startling herself awake within ten. You scoff when Steve starts carding through her hair– her guaranteed snooze switch. It’s evil and you tell him so. So of course, that finishes her off long before Scarecrow makes an appearance; she curls into Steve’s side and digs a heel into yours. Poor girl never stood a chance.
“She had a lot of fun tonight,” Steve utters. It’s alarming at first, how his voice eclipses the TV like there isn’t a child snoring against his stomach. But she doesn’t stir. He knows she won’t.
“Did you?” You ask, skating between a whisper and not.
“Very much. You?”
“Mhmm. Loads,” you answer without hesitation. It’s possibly the easiest question anyone’s ever asked you. “I think Penelope’s right.”
He quirks an eyebrow against the front of the couch. His cheek is sinking further into the cotton like he might fall asleep.
“We should go trick-or-treating tomorrow too.”
His lips wane into a soft smile. If he wasn’t so drained he might laugh too. “What should we be? Penelope has a strict no-repeat costume rule.”
You hum, scraping your memory for the best costumes you’d seen. There were Power Rangers and Ghostbusters and several Batmen with their Catwomen. But the image of one young family sticks out the most in your mind. A young pair of parents with their son and daughter decked in moody black and white.
“Addams family?”
“Who’s who?”
“She’s Wednesday. Obviously.”
Steve chuckles, accidentally too loud and Penelope twitches against his thigh. He draws her against his chest readily and strokes her spine with the back of his hand. “Obviously,” he whispers.
“You’re Morticia and I’m Gomez, though.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. She’s tall and pretty. Strong jawline, kinda sassy. I think you’ll make it work.”
You’re flirting. You know you are as soon as you say it. And you don’t mean to, it just happens; the words come intuitively as blinking. Your brain does all sorts of crazy things around Steve.
“You think I’m pretty?” He’s smiling hard. You can’t tell if he’s serious or not.
“Pretty sassy, yeah,” you deflect. It’s a safer truth than admitting you do think he’s pretty.
He rolls his eyes. “My mom says Nell gets her attitude from me. Says it’s payback for how I was as a child.”
You gawk emphatically. “Were you a bad kid Steve Harrington?”
“I wasn’t bad– just needed attention I think.”
You hum. It’s a little surprising since you know Steve’s an only child to wealthier parents. You’d pegged him to be spoiled in both money and attention.
“Are you close with your parents?”
He shakes his head, “Not really. Talk every now and then.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I came to terms with it a while ago. Even more after she was born.” He skims his lips against Penelope’s head. “I can’t imagine not being in her life. You know, not really knowing her? Not knowing her favorite things or when she’s hurting or what she’s up to every second of the day. I don’t think that’ll ever change.”
“She’ll be so grateful to have that kind of relationship when she’s older.”
“Yeah, maybe. Like way older.” His shoulders droop as he sighs, “She already thinks I’m smothering her. Wouldn’t hold my hand yesterday because she’s ‘too big’ she said.”
“Already?” You laugh.
“I know!” He groans. “I almost cried.”
“She loves you. Kids just show it in strange ways.”
“Yeah… She forced me to hold a slug last week.”
“You held it?”
“I had to! She was so excited to give it to me.”
“Aww. You’re a good dad.”
Steve's eyes caper down and his cheeks pinken. “I’m trying to be.”
Apart from the movie and an occasional sleep sigh from Penelope, silence swallows the room. It’s a comfortable silence; the kind you only get around people you’ve known forever; It feels like you’ve known Steve your entire life. You have to remind yourself it’s only been a few months. Remind yourself this is the first time you’ve ever even hung out.
You find yourself drifting to the future. A future, with Steve and Penelope. Vacations and school events and hiking trips and movie nights and so much more. It’s silly. It makes your heart want to rip itself from your chest.
Steve clears his throat. Your fantasy is only partially dissolved. “I’m gonna take her upstairs. Put her to bed.”
You lean forward and press into your knees, gearing to stand. “Okay. I should get going. It’s late.”
“Stay for a minute. I’ll walk you out.”
You have no reason to decline but even if you did, you aren’t sure you would be able to. Saying no to Steve is as hard as saying no to Penelope. They have the same puppy-dog eyes– brown and soft as sun-baked clay. That must be it.
Steve strains to stand with the added weight. He’s strong but Penelope’s four now and having growth spurts like there’s a race to be the tallest kid in school. She clings to him instinctually, slotting her face into his neck like it was sculpted specifically to be her pillow. Her gangly legs sway against his thighs as he slowly climbs the stairs and disappears onto the landing.
You don’t notice Steve’s return. He’s much quieter than before, taking softer steps and more calculated movements. He doesn’t have the buffer of his body heat to soothe Penelope back to sleep if she wakes. The palm on your shoulder startles you.
He whispers an apology from behind the couch, voice sweet and buttery as caramel. You let him guide you the short distance to the front door– expecting it to end there– but he presses into a pair of laced sneakers thrown beside the entry table.
The night’s chill is jolting, even in your coat. It’s easy to forget the months are slipping into winter when Steve’s around. He radiates warmth, not just in sun-kissed skin and honeyed eyes, but in his tone and his touches and every aspect of his spirit. And it bleeds like a fire. Brushes your cheeks like flames and stirs perpetually in your belly like magma.
He walks you the entire length of his driveway to your car. Probably would’ve opened the door for you if you didn’t beat him to it.
“Thank you for inviting me Steve,” you say, lingering in the threshold of your open door.
“Thank you for coming. I’m really happy you came. So is Penelope.”
“As much as I am looking forward to The Addams Family next year, we should plan something… maybe a little sooner?”
“Mmm. Let me check my schedule first,” he teases, rapping his fingers against the roof of your car.
“Whatever, boss-man.”
You still don’t get in. There’s a stretch of silence, not awkward, just a placeholder for when the right words come. And they don’t. Not tonight anyway. You could hug him? Peck his cheek? Pat his back as he might yours?
You settle for a safe and simple tight-lipped smile. He appreciates it just the same.
“See you Friday?” He asks.
“See you then.”
Steve guides the door closed after you settle in. He waits until your taillights have completely fizzled out in the shadows of his street to stroll back up to his house.
He thinks of you as he locks the front door and again as he finds your hat on the sectional and a third time as he slips under his sheets. Steve isn’t sure what to do. He feels sick. His heart is hammering and his gut twists itself in knots like it does when he’s afraid. He hasn’t quite figured out what about you is so scary but how can he possibly wait until Friday to find out?
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fluff#dad steve harrington#steve harrington#coworker steve harrington#stranger things fic#stranger things#the shape of family#skeltnwrites#my work
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for latina!kook!reader can you write her being new to the island and rafe always hears people talk about the new girl and he dosent think anything of it until he actually sees her and she’s this latina goddess and rafe swears he’s never seen a more beautiful woman and he instantly knows he has to have her?please and thank you i love your fics!!💘💘
also maybe this is kind of inspired by the song “sensacion del bloque” so maybe you can base it off that song🙈
only if you want of course!! no pressure<3
warnings: stalker!rafe (lol), spanish wording but it’s translated!
a/n: i was obsessed with this song when i was little omg!! i’m so happy you love my fics anon <333
“what’s all the fuss about this new girl on the island?” rafe took a swig from his beer, drawing both topper and kelce’s attention almost immediately. “for starters, she’s like insanely pretty,” kelce started, “i don’t know her name, but she’s already running around figure eight with the socialites.” he raised his eyebrows as topper butted in. “i heard she speaks spanish,” he added, “where do you think she’s from?” topper and kelce started throwing out names of different countries while rafe started forming his own thoughts.
people moved to and from the island all the time, so while rafe didn’t think much of the whole ‘new girl’ thing, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was about you that had literally everyone talking. all he knew was that you were attractive and could speak another language. he heard some guys at the country club raving about you the day before, and now his friends. was it the way you dressed? your hair? the way you walked? he needed to find out now.
“do you know where i could find her?” rafe interrupted kelce and topper mid argument. “uhm.. i don’t know? remember that house for sale right there by the shore? i think that’s the one she moved into.” topper looked confused as rafe stood up. “where are you going?” he followed him outside. “i have to see what the hype is about, man.” rafe was already in his truck before topper yelled out a ‘can i go too?!’
rafe felt like a stalker going over to your house. he wasn’t going to get off or anything.. he just parked across the street and staked the place out as if he was playing detective. apart of him felt ridiculous for doing this in the first place. here he was, waiting to just catch a glimpse of you. “what the fuck am i doing?” he cursed to himself. just as he was about to turn the engine back on, you emerged from the front door.
“te estaré esperando en el frente— i’ll be waiting for you in the front.” you chirped into your phone. rafe heard you before he saw you, the sight stealing all the breath from his lungs. you were dressed up in a tight, embellished, mini dress, your hair and makeup done to the gods while your butterfly heels sparkled under the setting sun. your beauty was otherworldly, and rafe couldn’t take his eyes off.
rafe was always the one to denounce something as ‘overhyped’ but he felt like the entire island talking about and praising you just wasn’t enough. you needed your own billboard. oblivious to the fact that you had looked up at him from your spot in the driveway, he closed his mouth as you smiled at him, your perfectly manicured fingers sending him a flirty wave. that was the cherry on top. rafe had gotten down and was about to approach you before a car full of girls drove up.
you walked down the pavement, the purse on your shoulder swaying with your hips as you looked up at him. “tal vez la próxima vez— maybe next time.” you laughed, getting in the car before he watched you disappear at the end of street.
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ latina!kook!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks imagine#outer banks fanfiction#rafe outer banks#obx#obx rafe#obx smut#obx imagine#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron fic#drew starkey
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whatcha doing with a boy like that? (1)
wanda maximoff x fem!reader
part one of 'you belong with me' series
summary: basically a wanda series inspired by jim and pam from the office
word count: 1348
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7
“I have a question for you,” Wanda whispers.
You smile, leaning further over Wanda’s receptionist's desk to hear the question.
You can see Wanda suppressing a laugh as she says, “Are you going to Jennifer’s cat party on Sunday,” finally breaking as she finishes her sentence.
You laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe how serious she is about her cats.”
Wanda looks up at you from her chair smiling at you, and you smile back, secretly pulling out a container of mixed berry yogurt from behind the desk and placing it on the elevated edge along with a metal spoon on top of the lid.
“You made me forget what I came here for,” you say, pointing towards the yogurt. “Special delivery of a mixed berry yogurt for your afternoon snack break.”
Wanda grins and takes the items from her best friend.
“You know my favorite flavor of yogurt?”
“Nah, it was the last one in the fridge.”
Wanda’s face falls.
You smile. “I’m kidding,” you say, bringing the smile back to Wanda’s face, “of course I know the same flavor of yogurt you’ve eaten for the past 7 years.”
Vision doesn’t. Wanda thinks in her head. But that’s fine, he only sees her at the end of the workday, so it makes sense that you would know instead.
You’re about to ask Wanda what’s wrong since you see her lost in thought, but you’re both suddenly interrupted.
“Y/N!” Tony, your boss calls out. “Stop giggling with Maximoff and get back to work!”
“Since when did you care about your work Tony?” Nat calls out.
“Good point,” he responds, walking back into his office.
You turn to look at Wanda giving her an apologetic look. “I should probably get back to work anyways,” you tell her, pointing at your desk over your shoulder.
Wanda nods, a little deflated on the inside since you’re the only thing that makes her work day more interesting.
You sigh as you sit down at your desk, picking up your phone to make a few sales calls.
Wanda does the same, doing her job of answering the ringing phone with ‘Shield Industries this is Wanda’ over, and over, and over again.
You notice Wanda out of the corner of your eye, seeming a bit forlorn compared to before.
You smirk, knowing exactly what to do to make her feel better.
“God, damn it!” Sam yells out, growling. “Damn it! Y/N!”
“Hold on, hold on. Sam, what happened?” Tony asks.
Sam sighs, putting his head in his hand.
“She put my stuff in Jell-O again,” he pulls out the plate that has the stapler encased in the lemon dessert.
And right on cue, Wanda lets out a shocked laugh, her hand going to cover her mouth to suppress her laughter. You smile.
“That’s real professional. Thanks a lot, Y/N. Tony, do something.”
You decide to engage in a bit more banter for Wanda. You pull out a Jell-O cup and a plastic spoon from your drawer, opening it to eat the treat.
“How do you know it was me?” You ask as you lean back in your chair.
“It’s always you!” Sam snaps.
Tony sighs. “Alright, the thing about practical jokes is you need to know when to start and when to stop,” you look over at Wanda, sharing a knowing look as she smiles at you. “And Y/N, I think it’s time for you to stop putting Sam’s personal items in Jell-O.
You nod, placing the Jell-O cup down and swallowing the Jell-O that had been in your mouth. “Alright. Sam, I'm sorry, because I have always been your biggest flan,” your mouth quirks up into a smile at your pun.
You watch Wanda out of the corner of your eye bite down on her fist to stop from laughing.
Tony snorts. “That was a good one,” he puts his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You know what, that’s just the way it is around here. Just deal with it, Sam.”
“I’m not gonna deal with it, Tony. It’s damage to company property.”
“I’ll order a new one, dude. And those staplers are getting old anyways.”
Sam sighs. “Fine, whatever.”
Tony leaves to go back to his office.
“Hey, Sam,” you say.
“What do you want?”
“You should’ve put me in custardy.”
Wanda lets out another laugh.
“Do you like going out at the end of the week for a drink?” You ask Wanda, leaning over her receptionist desk and smiling at her.
“Yeah,” Wanda replies, looking up at you.
“Yeah, I mean.” you shrug. “That’s why we’re all going out. You know, so we can have an end-of-the-week drink.”
“So when are we going out?” she asks, hopeful to have some fun after a while.
“I don’t know, tonight, hopefully.”
Suddenly, the creak of the door opening is heard, and you both turn your heads to see Vision walk in. Wanda’s fiance. You pull away from her desk.
“Hey,” he greets you.
“Hi,” you reply.
“Hey, babe,” he says to Wanda.
“Hi, Vis,” she leans over her desk to kiss him. You look away. “Do you mind if I go out for a drink with my friends from work?” she points to you and the rest of the Shield Industry staff.
He looks over at you before responding. “Uh, no, no, let’s just go home, Wanda.”
Wanda frowns but quickly replaces it with a neutral look. “Um, okay. Give me a few minutes though,” she points to the various papers on her desks. “I still need to do my faxes since it’s only 20 past 5.”
You watch the way her eyebrows are still creased, and you can tell that she had been looking forward to a night out.
Wanda walks around her desk and smiles at the two of you, heading off towards the fax machine.
You open and close your fists nervously, turning around to face Wanda’s fiance. “You know what, you should come with us. You know, since we’re all going out, it would be a good chance to see what people are like outside of the office. Who knows, it could be fun,” you tell him.
He shakes his head. “No, I think we’re good. We’ve gotta get going anyways.”
You nod, “Sure, no worries.”
You and him stand there for a bit, and you can’t help but break the awkward silence, “What’s in the, um, what’s in the bag?” you point to the black trash bag he has in his right hand.
He gives you an annoyed look before turning around, “just tell her I'll talk to her later,” he says to you and walks out the door.
“Got it, no problem.”
Your co-workers’ plan to go out for drinks has been canceled, and you sit at your desk trying to finish up your sales work as fast as possible.
“Hey.”
You swivel around in your chair to face Wanda who has her arms crossed over her baby blue button-up shirt, looking stressed.
“Hey, are you ok?” you reply.
“Oh, oh, yeah, I’m fine,” she waves her hand. “Weren’t you going out for a drink with everyone?”
“Oh, no, the plans got canceled.”
She frowns. “I’m sorry that’s a bummer.”
You chuckle. “No worries, Wanda, I think I’ll be ok.”
She lets out a laugh. “Yeah, sorry,” she looks around. “Hey, are you, uh, um-” she points towards the door.
“Walking out?” you supply with a smile.
She grins. “Yeah, that.”
“Yes I am, Maximoff. Wanna go together?”
She purses her lips and nods.
You start packing up your stuff while Wanda waits for you, but suddenly you both hear an aggressive honk outside.
You pause to pack up your stuff. “Oh, shoot, Vision.”
She looks at you apologetically, “yeah, sorry, Y/N. Have a nice weekend!” she tells you before turning around and running off to meet Vision in his car.
“You too,” you tell her, leaning back in your chair.
You sigh as you watch the girl you’ve been in love with for 7 years go home to her stupid fiance.
part 2
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff angst#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wandamaximoff#wanda maximoff fluff#marvel mcu#mcu#wanda x you#wanda x y/n#wanda marvel
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Dead Disco - Epilogue
Dead Disco masterlist Ghost/Soap/female reader The end.
You’re having trouble breathing.
It doesn’t help that you’re hiding in the back, peeking around the corner every so often, trying to interpret everyone’s faces.
It’s terrifying. You’re terrified.
“Hello?” Lea calls from the other side of the hallway, hands turned upwards like she’s confused. “What are you doing?”
“Shhh!” You hiss, grabbing her by the wrist. “I’m hiding.”
“Okay… why are we hiding?”
“I can’t go out there.” The denial is steadfast, and she shakes her head.
“You have to. You’re the artist.”
“I know. And that’s why I can’t go. They’re all… looking at me. Judging me.”
“They’re appreciating you, love. They’re appreciating your work.” You shiver. It’s not just your work out there. It’s a collection of your pieces, moments and feelings worked out on canvas, agony and elation painted together into something called art.
“I can’t go out there.” You double down, and she rubs your shoulder sympathetically.
“You have to.”
It’s not so bad. You finally appear from the back, and the gallery host introduces you as the artist. Everyone claps.
As you make your rounds, you start to notice small stickers on the plaques, signifying the sale of a piece, and it warms you, happiness spreading from fingers to toes, fills you with pride.
People stop to talk to you, shake your hand, ask you about certain pieces. You find answering their questions is not as painful as you imagined, and their compliments make you feel lighter. You circle the room, finally coming to a stop in front of the biggest piece in the entire gallery.
At first glance, you think it’s hard to discern what’s really going on, but the longer you stare at it, the more the puzzle comes together. Or at least, you think so. You’ve been staring at it for four years.
It’s an expressionist piece, as all your paintings are, but this one is a touch abstract, stroked together in a way that seems almost unintentional.
It’s a painting of conflicting colors, some dark and moody, others bright. A push, and a pull. Three bodies lay on a bed, diaphragms torn open and bleeding. They're all reaching into each other's chests, blood coating their arms, curled up so tightly together it’s hard to discern where one ends and the other begins in some strokes.
There’s no emotion scrawled into their features, nothing to interpret. You did it intentionally, hoping to direct the focus to the piece as a whole. That’s the only way it works. The only way it makes sense.
“I like this one. It's intriguing. Feels sad, almost.” Someone says behind you, and you turn to see a tall man staring at it with a thoughtful gaze. Studying. “Will you tell me about it?”
Emotion clogs your throat. Your fingers trace over the plaque bearing its name.
Darling.
“It’s a love story.”
The bar stool is one of the spinning ones.
You keep turning around in it, in circles, laughing as Lea rolls her eyes. “Babe, you’re going to fall.” You tsk.
“You’re literally no fun.”
“We’re here celebrating you. I don’t want to be doing that in a hospital when you break a bone falling off that stool.” She tips her head towards the bartender. “Can we get another round please?”
“Sure thing.” You like this place. It’s got great natural light in the day, big, tall windows and sage green walls, gold accents littered throughout. It feels homey, and sweet.
“I think that went really well. How do you feel about it?”
How do you feel.
“I think so too. Once I got over the nerves I… I thought it was good.”
“You sold a lot of paintings.”
“I know.” You laugh. That’s the surprise of the night, if you’re being honest. The number of pieces you sold, to other galleries, to a museum.
A wild dream turned reality.
“You’re going to be a big-time fancy painter now, watch.”
“I’m sure that’s either a long way off, or not going to happen. Either way, I’m really happy. I’m really proud of myself.” The two of you sip your new drinks, and you twist again on the stool.
“Someone tried to buy Darling.” Lea says gently, eyes soft.
“I know.”
“You’re sure you didn’t want to sell it?” You shake your head. It might be your best, biggest piece, but it will never know a home other than yours. You started painting it four years ago, the first night you left her behind, and she’ll never belong to anyone, except you. She’s safe with you, protected by you, loved by you, like she always should have been.
Like she was, so reverently, by them.
You didn’t even want to display it tonight, if you’re being honest. But Lea convinced you, and you found it in yourself to be brave.
She lets you sit in your silence for a while, which you appreciate. She’s a true friend, one that doesn’t pressure you to do things or say things for the sake of them.
Usually.
“Well,” she clinks her glass against yours with a mischievous smile and then says much too loudly, loud enough faces and bodies turn towards yours in the bar, “here’s to my favorite painter and her first gallery showing.” Some people clap. Some people cheer. You glare at her. “What? Opposed to free drinks?” You spin on the stool again, smiling, and then catch a flash of someone walking towards a door, muscled shoulders-
And a mohawk.
Your heart trips over itself.
“I’ll be right back.” You tell Lea, who gives you a confused look, but you’re already moving through the room, unsteady on your heels.
You burst through the door into the cool air, autumn nipping at your exposed skin, and look up and down the street. Your pulse ricochets in your ears.
They’re a block away. The night is dark, and the streetlights are yellow, but you’d know them anywhere.
“Hey!” You yell. “Wait!” They turn, and you teeter towards them as fast as you can manage, startling to a stop a few feet before them.
Your heart hammers inside your chest. Standing here, staring at them, taking them in, soaking in it. They look good. Happy. Healthy. Johnny’s skin is glowing, Simon somehow seems bulkier than he did four years ago, but the weight suits him.
“Hi.” You breathe.
“Hi.” Johnny’s eyes sparkle, Simon’s lips turning up in a barely-there smile.
Words fail you. For the first time in a while, you don’t know what to say. Hundreds of thousands of things try to get free, but none of them make it, though your mouth opens. Nothing comes out.
“We saw yer name on the sign outside the gallery down the street earlier. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. It was… really neat.” Lame.
“It’s a big accomplishment. You must be very proud.” Johnny’s gaze never leave yours, and you nod.
“I am.” The three of you stand there, staring at one another.
“Well, we should get going.” Simon breaks first.
“Right. Of course. Uh, it was… it was good to see you.”
“Ye too.” You let them get half a block away, not even.
You know what you want to say. Delayed, held on your tongue too long in a wash of uncertainty, but it arises clear as day.
“Wait!” They turn, you take a deep breath. “Would you… would you maybe want to have dinner, or something, sometime? Catch up?”
“We’d love to.” It feels different now, but the good pieces, albeit changed, shifted, are still there.
“Great, it’s a… plan. To have dinner. Or something.” Johnny smiles, and Simon nods.
“It’s a plan. You’ll text us?”
“Yeah, I will.”
“See ye soon, then.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
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𝖶𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍
୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Hi snowies, I’m back with another Barbie princess and the pauper themed reading !! I hope this reading found you in good health and that you like it, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱
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︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱
꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱
You’ve experienced an ending (possibly even multiple ones) that were very heavy. It was the kind of ending (or a string of them) that came with a lot of pain and hurt but was inevitable, something that could simply not be saved. For many of you a lot of backstabbing and betrayal took place, possibly people bitching too. It could have very well been a whole group of people disliking you or turning against you. I’m strongly getting that you’ve often experienced people not liking you for any reason at all. For many of you, all of this took place at the same time (betrayal, people disliking you for no reason, etc.) You’ve lost a lot or at least feel a strong sense of loss (or have had to feel that way at some point). You have many deep wounds and right now, life seems to be more peaceful for you. However, you’re worn out, tired and disappointed. I need to give you a virtual pat on the back for the way you seem to be handling the situation though. You let things end even though you had to reach the lowest possible point mentally. You allowed yourself time and space to heal and recover. You have always been the type to try your best so you were just like “nothing more can be done now, I tried my best”. Right now, you’re really focused on yourself and your own internal values. Your energy is still not the most harmonious but the way you’re dealing with things seems to make it all harmonious again. You have released many fears and are still doing so. ‘I look to you’ by Whitney Houston is coming through for some reason. You’ve reached a point where you have a harder time trusting people and doubt loyalty but it doesn’t seem to be negative, obviously there are days when the voices do get to you but you’re able to tame them. It’s just that going forward, you want to choose and do what’s best for you. You’re still struggling emotionally but it’s only so that you can do even better going forward and yes, you have dealt with this situation really well. You should be proud of yourself because some of us wouldn’t have been able to think straight if we were in your place. You seem to know that whatever you lost wasn’t that great to begin with and every loss of yours has only led to more wins but one thing that I need to make you aware of is that everyone who lost you has received the biggest L, even if at that time, they were having the time of their lives, you’ve clearly won. You’re free to begin again. What has passed has passed. You’re free to, in fact, you have every right to believe that being in your life and someone having you in their life is a privilege. You’re free to believe that trust needs to be earned. You’re free to believe that you’ve had a string of bad connections and that their words, and actions hurt you so you have every right to feel bad and not want anything to with them. You’re free to believe that you don’t have to fully forgive someone to move on. You’re free to stand up for yourself and not feel bad for doing so. Even if you made a mistake, if someone is going overboard with punishing you by treating you shitty and disrespecting you, you have every right to stand up for yourself as long as you’re still aware of what you did wrong and are holding yourself accountable instead of acting as though you’ve never hurt a fly. You’ve walked away and surrendered which is the best that you could have done, I’m proud of you. You’re free to not want to communicate maturely with those who refused to communicate maturely with you in the past. You’ve always had a personality where you don’t mind compromising for those you love and because it comes so naturally to you, you don’t even bother to voice it out.
However, just because you don’t talk the talk, instead you just walk the walk, people act as though your sacrifices were not big. You’re allowed to have resentments against people as long as you don’t burden yourself. You’re free to find peace in the fact that you’re a great and loving person who has never minded giving up their ego for a greater good, that you’ve always looked at yourself and your loved ones as a team and that’s not a bad quality, you just didn’t know better and had people who weren’t the same as you, around yourself and that’s okay. You’re free to believe and know that you were not being difficult or trying to pick fights, you were trying to fix things because you really cared and wanted to give, and do your best. You’re free to forgive yourself for not voicing out your needs sooner. You’re free to not want to forgive some people, you’re free to deny that you weren’t even involved with certain people if that’s what brings you peace. Remember that the past doesn’t even exist, no one can narrate and decide your story except you, and the truth is, people cannot exist in your reality unless you let them ;). You’re free to not have empathy for those who didn’t have empathy for you. You’re free to be rude and standoffish with those who deserve it. You’re free to believe that it’s okay for people to leave such a bitter taste in your mouth that you wouldn’t want to help them even if they were living out their last few days with a beating heart. You’re allowed to believe that you’re not always the bad person, no matter how much you’ve been villainised, you’ve always tried to watch your actions and when you did make mistakes, you always tried to make up for them, and usually, you didn’t even do anything wrong. You’ve often had people hate you because they’re envious of and feel inferior to you in some way but then they try to make it seem as though it’s your mistakes and actions that they hate you for. You’ve had people trying to isolate you, you’ve had people telling mutuals not to talk to you, you’ve had people trying to turn people against you just for the thrill of putting you down because it’s fun to try to bring down someone who they feel inferior to, it makes them feel superior, watching you question yourself but what they don’t seem to know is that you question yourself to better yourself because you don’t view mistakes as unforgivable sins, you want to take accountability, make amends, do whatever you can to repair the damage that you may have done and do better in the future instead of drowning in self guilt like they want you to 😭. Even if you did temporarily fall into self guilt, you managed to come right out and you always will. You’re free to believe that you’re a good person, you’re free to have faith in your own greatness and embrace your mistakes in a way where you put it all behind yourself, understand that however others have treated you has been wrong as well. You’re free to believe that you’re a good person no matter how many unethical things you may have done, no matter how much others have tried to villainise you. You’re allowed to be cold to those who used your mistakes to try to get you to break. If I was you, I would avoid doing anything that I could possibly regret doing in the future. You’re free to understand that many of your past actions have been shitty but those who jumped to try and knock you down to a peg were not saints either. If they did have a problem with what you did, they would discuss your actions, not your character, they just had a problem with you, and they would sure as hell not gang up against and isolate you. You are allowed to leave your past behind (including any of the actions that you’re not proud of) and do better in the future. Just remember, you’re always free to begin again and you’re always free to believe. When you find the place where your heart belongs, you’ll never leave.
꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱
The destiny that’s written in your heart is to be seen. Many of you are interested in lifestyles that bring about a lot of eyes on you (possibly being a public figure). I don’t even think that you need to be known on a wide scale, it’s about the expression and success for you. You want to be able to make people happy and help them remain optimistic during hard times. You’re also supposed to be very generous. I just heard that the destiny that’s written in your heart is to belong to everyone, not in a negative way but in a way where everyone has a piece of the good deeds you’ve done inside their hearts and so you belong to them in some capacity. You’re supposed to have a lot of personal integrity and just be an abundant person overall. Even if you are not a public figure or an aspiring one, you’re supposed to be the light in many people’s lives. Due to how you’re going to belong to everyone, you’re also going to have to prioritise your alone time. To you, the time that you spend by yourself is going to be very precious. There are going to be people who are going to want to come into your life in order to dim your light and you’re going to have to find peace in life again and again. YES, PEOPLE ARE GOING TO ACTIVELY TRY TO ADD LACK OF PEACE INTO YOUR LIFE 😍. You’re meant to grow to be someone who’s not really that problematic. Which is why, you may have to step out of character a lot as a teen and early adult, you’ll have to learn how to stay firm in wanting to protect your peace and keep your character strong. Your destiny is to remain firm in your karma and have a strong sense of integrity. You’re supposed to learn how to protect your energy because you will have a lifestyle where you sort of belong to everyone but that’s not realistic, there are only certain people who deserve you in their lives, so you’ll have to learn how to balance it all. Karma is really big in your spread. You’re someone who’s experienced karma, often immediately. You’re supposed to learn many life lessons and lead a life of integrity. Your destiny if you manage to harness it, is to attain status and power but you’ll consistently have to work on balancing different aspects of your life (because you’re going to have it all). I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.
︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱
꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱
Right away, you could be coming from pile 1. If not, much like the previous pile, you’ve undergone an ending too. Yes, this is in fact the ending of whatever situation or situations that took place but that’s the good news, that’s what you’re free to begin from again. When you’re at the lowest, the only place to go to is upwards ;). Who had potato and egg curry/likes it? Maybe, someone here is going to cook it or the dish holds some significance to you? It just randomly came through, doesn’t have to resonate for everyone. The ending doesn’t seem to be singular honestly, I feel like there was a whole cycle of multiple endings that took place but with many delays. If you ever find yourself feeling guilty about not getting over it or feel as though it’s your fault because you delayed these cycles, please be kinder to yourself. When things end, you’re left empty but what happens when a container is left empty? It gives room for new stuff to fill up that space. It’s important for you to not dwell on this ending - the guilt of not ending it sooner, wishing it had never ended, the emptiness you feel, etc. You’re free to begin from everything you’ve ever known because there is so much more in the future, in fact, even in the present itself for you to know. If you’re refusing to end a cycle, you’re only making it harder on yourself, I hope that you’ll be able to start again, no matter how much time it may take. Some of you feel guilty towards yourself because you know that you’re over it, you’re just not letting yourself let go completely. It’s become a habit to think about it, feel certain emotions when you reminisce so it feels foreign for you to move on and feel peace. Even if you’re still emotionally attached to the past, make the conscious effort to move forward. Please remember “no closure is a closure”. No matter how stagnant you feel or have felt, no matter how long you’ve felt it for, no matter how familiar the feeling is to you, you’re free to get out of this energy. Even if you feel as though you were unable to make the most out of your potential so far, even if you feel as though you haven’t achieved much, no matter how disappointed you’ve felt in yourself, don’t burden yourself with such feelings. You’re free to move on and achieve a lot going forward. “Though you may not know where your gifts may lead and it may not show in the start, when you live your dream, you’ll find destiny is written in your heart.” Why are you so concerned about everyone? Why do you try to make things right with your actions even if you aren’t interested in maintaining certain connections? It’s because you’ve achieved a lot when it comes to character. If you feel misunderstood even though you’ve done a lot for others without even talking about it because that’s just you, if you felt betrayed, it’s them, not you. Fight against their opinions, they just dislike how you stand for the things that wish they stood for, they also dislike how you are the way they wish to be in some capacity.
Continue soaring forward with courage, resilience and conviction. You’re allowed to want what you want without always having to adjust to other people’s needs, desires, personalities, lifestyles and actions. Even if you may feel like you’ve betrayed yourself in the past, know that you were living by your truth of loving and keeping your actions in check, you’re always free to begin again and live more truthfully to yourself. In fact, now you know a lot more than you did back then, isn’t that in itself a blessing? Never let anyone influence you and your approach to interpersonal connections. You’re likely a more long term kinda person due to how much you pour into everything and everyone. You’re free to believe that you’re a great person even if you aren’t breaking your leg to please others. At this point, you likely know well enough about that because you seem to have a pretty strong sense of self or are developing it (and have been making good progress with it). You’re free to stand up for yourself and your beliefs. It’s time to be your most honest and authentic self now. You’ve likely started feeling called to it already. No matter how much pressure is placed upon you or how much you’re criticised or blamed, you’re allowed to believe in yourself. You’re allowed to have boundaries and to be fairly protective of yourself. You’re allowed to want to be pursued and want to be courted romantically. You’re allowed to desire to be wooed off your feet xD. You’re allowed to follow whatever your heart’s calling is. You’re allowed to move forward acting more graceful and strong in character and even physically if you’d like. You’re allowed to move your attention onto better things if whatever you’re focused on is affecting you negatively. You’re allowed to repeat mistakes as long as you manage to learn from them in the end. “I think all of us wanna feel something that we’ve forgotten or turned our backs on because maybe we didn’t realise how much we were leaving behind.” It’s okay to make sacrifices, it’s okay to make wrong decisions, it’s okay to learn, that’s how life is. You’re free to desire and believe in a true and deep love connection that you know exists because you’re full of the love that you wish to receive. You’re free to desire a deep connection full of mutual admiration, respect and love. You’re free to want to share your life with someone, just make sure that you’re not going into it with desperation. Your standards are not too high as long as you know that you’re asking for what you can give out. You’re free to want to be around wise people. You’re free to want to have a romantic connection with someone controlled, wise, ethical and respectable. You don’t have to feel bad about taking certain things seriously even if those around you don’t. Like supposing sex is a big thing for you, in this generation that’s kind of rare but it’s okay, do right by yourself. You’re free to have an impartial judgment in the beginning for your own good. You’re free to vet out and choose who deserves to be in your life and who doesn’t. It’s okay to want to strengthen your own character and reputation. You’re free to craft yourself and your life however you want, it’s your life to live.
꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱
The destiny that’s written in your heart is to leave the past behind. You’re the pile that will either deal with extreme loneliness or isolation of some sort that will only lead to you changing and growing emotionally. If you feel like most things have not worked out for you, please just know that whatever has not worked out is exactly why thing’s are working out for you, you’re going to see it while you’re living your destiny. Somehow, no matter what you go through, no matter how many times you’re hurt, betrayed, etc. you are meant to only continue to become more loving. The more you hurt, the more you learn how to love (yourself and others) is the energy that I’m getting. It’s important for you to be in touch with the present rather than staying stuck on anything from the past, don’t even hold onto the regrets, that’s how you’re blocking your own destiny. You might be the pile that got shamed for being emotional at some point and being too nonchalant at another, you’re going to get closer to yourself which will ultimately lead you to being more in tune with your own emotional nature. The more you’ll grow, the more you’ll embrace and learn just how much of a blessing it is to choose to be ever loving in a bitter world that wants you to be bitter as well. The way you are, your sensitive nature, the way you feel, the way you love, the amount of devotion and loyalty you give out has led you to being hurt, disappointed and regretful several times. There have been times when people have terribly embarrassed because you tried to see the best in them. The clown emoji is coming through, gosh 🤡😭. However, the destiny that’s written in your heart is strongly intertwined with loving and loyalty, you value genuine connections and are extremely compassionate, as you grow older, you’ll learn how to not make everyone’s problems your own. You’re meant to learn healthy boundaries as you grow older, you’ll learn how to extend your love and compassion towards yourself, that’s how you’ll unlock a major part of your destiny. You’re supposed to come in terms with the fact that maybe you weren’t the problem after all. You seem to have taken “the world is your family” too literally, you take on everyone’s problems and sorrows, and try to love and help everyone. Especially when younger, that was what you were like.
As you grow older and finally realise that maybe you weren’t the problem after all, you’ll start seizing opportunities as you let go of regret. It’s going to be a bittersweet but beautiful time. No matter what you may go through, you’ll only gain more self awareness due to it. You’ll start focusing on the more positive aspects of life and yourself. You’ll eventually start having gratitude and find your zest for life again. You’ll learn that you’re not everyone’s mother or caregiver and that what you bring to the table, and who you are is deeply valuable. You’re destined to learn just a little selfishness, not in a sense of only caring about yourself but in a sense of putting yourself first. I’m not sure why but your sex drive keeps on coming through. You either masturbate quite a bit or well, just have a high libido xD. You might have started masturbating much younger than most as well. Doesn’t have to resonate but that’s what came through. I wouldn’t be surprised if this pile has a mother wound or just female figures being unsupportive and problematic towards you. It’s definitely not going to be everyone but you may find yourself having a bad experience with many female figures while growing up. It could be something as simple as you think that you’re good with a certain girl or woman just to find out that they dislike you. You’re meant to have it all, abundance in the truest senses. That’s the destiny that’s written in your heart. You may be the pile that’s not afraid to dream and not just dream but also try your best to execute it. If you have to give up on your dreams for whatever reason, you may feel terribly wrong from within. The destiny that’s written in your heart is a lot of domestic bliss as well. You’re meant to have people who accept and understand your differences in your life. You’re meant to be emotionally content. The reason why you have a hard time with short term, casual stuff is because you’re meant to experience long term deep attachments. The reason you’re so loyal, feel so deeply and know how to be dedicated is because you’re supposed to find worthy enough people to form such lovely and long term connections with. You’re passionate, don’t even try to suppress that true nature of yours by trying to explore some half hearted stuff. You’re well rounded so you’re meant to experience a well rounded life - a blissful home life, a great career, a strong personality and being proud of yourself, you’re meant to have it all. All of this is the destiny that’s written in your heart. I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.
︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱
꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱
This could be the pile that may have lost their way temporarily or were unable to focus on things that mattered at some point (education, money, career, etc.) You’re free to start again when it comes to education and your goals (educational, career, character, skills, so on and so forth). It’s time for you to believe in your own maturity and sense of independence. You’re free to begin again no matter how many times you may have quit or lost your path. You’re a very responsible person who is focused on building something for yourself right now. You’re free to take on this identity wholly and start/continue showing up consistently for yourself. Maybe you used to be like this as a child, you had all your priorities in place but as you grew up, you started burning out or something just caused you to stray off your path. It’s okay, as long as you get back on track. You’ve always been a very helping and trustworthy person with a strong will. You used to be really reliable, responsible and ambitious even as a kid. Even if you feel like you’ve disappointed yourself, it’s never too late to get back to yourself and your goals. Believe in and stay firm in your own karma (actions/deeds). A routine would really help you. You’re free to start trying to make the most out of your potential. Maybe, you were pushed into a period of solitude causing you to realise that you need to get back on track? It doesn’t have to be for everyone, it’s only for a select few of you. You might have ended up overindulging at some point when younger which led you to straying from your path. It could be an overindulgence of anything - liquor, heartbreak, friends, freedom, etc. You may have wasted that time but the fact that you know what it feels like to enter such an energy means that you’ll avoid it going forward. It’s good that you’ve managed to live such different lifestyles and take on such different identities, just to get back to being yourself and realising that you always knew who you were, and that life is a lot about having the courage to live as who you truly are. If you don’t have a social life or have too much of it (envy, rivalry, lack of approval but also people around you) causing you to either think too much or not have enough space to think, just remember that you’re free to begin again. If you don’t have much of a social life currently, you’ve dealt with envy, rivalry, lack of approval, disappointments, end of friendships, etc. before.
Some of you may be going through it right now, if yes, you’re free to begin again, trust me, it’s going to get better ;). You’re free to believe that your next relationships (platonic and romantic) are going to be great ones. You’re free to believe that change is coming in and it’s going to be big, and in the best way possible. Patience is important here though. Don’t settle and don’t give into desperation or urges of any sort. You’re free to begin again when it comes to self improvement. You’re free to put the past behind you and patiently make the most out of the present while looking forward to a bright future. You’re free to explore and expand beyond what you thought your interests and aesthetics were limited to. You’re free to claim fulfilment. You’ve overcome so much, give yourself a little pat on the shoulder, will you? You’re allowed to go with the flow of things while consistently working on whatever you want. Consistency and patience are guaranteed to reward you as long as you use your brain and abilities to the fullest. Plan but don’t stay stuck on the planning phase. You’re doing so well, please be proud of yourself as well. While others may talk about how much they’ve done, how they are, like they may really boast it, you don’t boast because that’s just innately in you and why would you boast about something that’s just natural to you? BUT THEY’RE REALLY BIG TRAITS AND THINGS IN REAL LIFE! You’re free to let go of extremism in order to find peace. You’re free to make peace with situations even if they were one sided. You’re free to reprioritise and have faith in your priorities even if your priorities were not in the right places for a while. You’re free to move on from the life that was not flowing correctly. You’re free to heal completely even if no one witnessed it and you’re free to feel proud of yourself even if there was no one to witness how much you’ve grown. All work, no play will make you a dull one, please try to strike a good balance between studies/work and life. You’re free to try to manage life better. Your past does not exist, it does not matter. Believe in yourself and your dreams, your hopes and wishes will come true as long as you’re willing to work for them. You’re free to move forward with more confidence and passion, grabbing opportunities and communicating well. You’re likely already a great communicator, if not through speech, it may be through writing but believe in yourself, it’s better to go after the life you want rather than convincing yourself that you’re happy with an average life. Remember, you’re always free to begin again and you’re always free to begin, when you find the place that your heart belongs, you’ll never leave.
꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱
The destiny that’s written in your heart is quite interesting. You’ve always desired to be looked up to. There’s something traditional and old school that you want, the old school romance, the old school love, the old school family, whatever it may be. It’s because it’s in your destiny. You could be someone who doesn’t enjoy having jokes made about them or didn’t like them when younger. You do not appreciate being the butt of any joke due to how much you value mutual respect. It’s in your destiny to love and adore, and to be loved and adored. You’re likely the marriage type. You want an equal and all encompassing love in which your partner treats you like their own and you treat them like your own. You desire to operate with your partner as a team, a family, united and with each other instead of egoistic and against each other. It’s because you’re destined for that. You’re meant to have a reluctance to explore anything that’s not deep and intense (romantically). You’re meant to have moments when you feel unsuccessful, like you’ve not achieved much, like you’ve not been able to live up to your potential so that you can find it in you to strive towards it. At some point, you’re going to be like “I’ve always known who I am, who I want to be. I’ve always known what was right and yet I strayed off.” That was meant to happen so that you can be more confident in who you are. Due to your deep emotions and the way you feel responsible for everyone and everything, and you desire to have an ethical and good character, you tend to be confused a lot because people try to make you think that you’re doing something wrong? That’s the entire reason why you strayed off your path in the first place. You’re going to be pressured into making decisions without knowing what it is that you truly want. You’re going to find yourself being very emotionally overwhelmed at some point because you also have a tendency to feel things deeply. You won’t know what it is that you truly want. There will be a point where you’ll wonder if you even have faith in yourself at all. You might get severely betrayed at some point when younger, likely by multiple people but might have mixed feelings regarding them because the situations will just be so cloudy. Also, you’re a genuinely really good person so your desire for connection will lead you to treat people as if they are in the same team as you even if they aren’t because you will not be aware of it, you’ll have their best interests at heart but when all of this rose tinted glasses, confusion, fog or whatever you want to call it fades away, you’ll feel as though you lived in an illusion for a quite a while. You’re someone who has a lot of enemies due to your naturally great character. In this world, many people enjoy tearing each other down, you’ll have to learn how to strategically move through life. You’re able to be very strategic, it’s just that you have ethics and morals, and care about people so you try not to hurt them. You’re going to have to learn how to be yourself and follow your path unapologetically no matter who it hurts.
Many of your friends tend to envy you and want similar things that you want, possibly even love interests, don’t feel guilty about doing and choosing what’s best for you. Most of these people desire to be better than you because they do dislike you to some capacity, one more reason to not feel bad. You’re meant to be courageous enough to go for what you want, even if it might cause you to end up in scandals or ostracised because at the end, you manage to gain so much from it, in every way. “You need to be cold to be queen, keep your eyes on the price, Jenny Humphrey. You cannot make people love you but you can make them fear you.” You have had friends who turned out to be envious of you at some point. In fact, you often attract people like this but it does help you grow. You are going to learn how to be selfish with these people. With those who do deserve your love and view you as a team, you’re going to treat them as if they were you, you’re going to give them the best and will try your best to be there for them. Those who see and understand you are going to have your back at all times. You’re going to change and grow a lot through all the envy and one sided rivalry driven conflicts but that will only get you to be more morally driven. You’re going to become more empathetic, trustworthy and a great adviser to those who deserve it, and a selfish, cold person to those who don’t. That’s kind of your destiny because when you’re going to be all kind and giving, having the best interest of everyone at heart, viewing them as a team, they’re going to undervalue you and take you for granted. They’re going to abuse your generosity and giving nature, they’ll also be mean to you, as if nothing you give is enough for them, even though you’re probably the best that they will find but you’ll likely learn the lesson of putting yourself quite young (by your early twenties) because you’ll have already experienced a lot by then. You’re probably meant to be very charitable though. Also, the deep connections that you’ll have (both romantic and platonic) and I mean the healthy, non confusing and lasting ones, they’ll be sacred to you. Those people will understand you on a whole different level and will treat you with such care, it’s touching. You truly do deserve this kind of love. I’m so happy for you. When someone is like you, many will dislike you for your greatness while others will want to find both - more of your greatnesses and your weaknesses in order to love you, in order to have you in their life, in order to be in your life because they’ll see you as someone to treasure, because they’ll grow to love you more and more, the more they get to know you. This is sweet, isn’t it? You’re going to start craving strong and mutual love quite young and you’ll start having a mature approach to relationships. It’s likely because you spent quite some time in illusions while what you were giving out was very real so you’ll crave that same realness because you’ll know that you deserve it. Yes, you will receive it as long as you don’t bend into settling and staying stuck in illusions. All of this is the destiny that’s written in your heart. I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.
#intuitive readings#pick a card#pick a deck#pac#tarot pac#pac reading#pick a photo#tarot pick a card#tarotblr
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PAC : What is your desire reality ?
Stay ! They don't love you like I love you...
Good morning pretty soul ! I am so excited ... IS OFFICIALLY KINKTOBER ! DAY : 4-5
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Your future lover| SEX Douala =SALE READING
PILE 1
Death, 3 pentacles (reverse), 10 swords
The end of your relationship is imminent, which is necessary. Y’all sitting so far away from each other that you look like a stranger. Y’all do love each other but don’t like each other. Meaning there's good intention, respect and affection for one and other but you can’t stand each other. They are always choosing work over you. There’s nothing you can do. A situation is going to present itself in which you have no other choice but part away and a sense of relief will come mixed with worryness. Because you will finally be free from that problem. The reality is that this connection was built on shallow foundations. You went for them because they loved their work and were well off. So you feel secure that they have their shit together which safely help you blossom some romantic feelings but you quickly realize that you need more than just a provider to feel content. WARNING: You are soon going to reach your breaking point. I feel like you come from a family of bitter women. Who loves to hold down bums and loves to walk around saying ‘’he knows where home is ‘’ knowing damn well he has 3 babies on her. Others your own mom will always choose her little bf(s) before you. So you are scared that they are going to bully you because you choose a better man yet you're unhappy. First let them, old crooked big back bitter ugly wrinkly faces bitches rot on their own. You decided you wanted more for yourself and you went for it. Whatever their old ass bitches with no teeth are saying is more than worthless. Now you actually know what you want and need and don’t let the validation of men dictate your life. Second, babe is not because a person does not change for you that you are undeserving of success. You were not made to prove your worth. You are not going to spend you whole life changing in hope to blend with your environments for fuck sake. You think you want to be chosen but you really want to be worth it. I am here to tell you that YOU ARE. Even though you grew up in a toxic environment, you took upon yourself to do the change. You parent yourself. You took it upon you to get a degree, get a car, get an appartement (in this fucking economy) and have a enough financial literacy to vacay twice a year. You don’t even realize that u are GOALS. Your inner child is proud of you, you have no idea. Stop trying to convince others and start choosing you !
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PILE 2
7 wands, Knight swords, 6 wands, 3 wands
Y’all want better but are not ready for the work necessary to achieve it. I am hearing Suki saying : ‘’Obstacles … What's obstacles ? I don’t know Obstacles…’’ Bitch is not because you are ignoring the obstacle that is not standing ahead of you. Y'all are also living in poor areas. A lot of y’all the only heritage you have is poverty. Some of y’all live in the same house, in the same neighborhood from generation to generation. Is the only thing that your family has to their name.
You are young (less than 25 years old). You have all the energy necessary to mold your raw potential. Your family may not support you in your endeavor towards a life of financial freedom not because they have ill intent but because they do not want you to be disappointed in it. They are so used to their rough financial situation that they are even proud of it. I’m hearing: ‘’ We always make it work …’’. But I swear they will support you sooner than you think because they seriously love you. When you are going to be sitting in a place that is more comfortable you are going to inspire a lot of aunties in your life to aim for more. You are going to be the blueprint of a change in your family finances.
FEMININE ENERGY
You are on the way to becoming nurses. Is one of your passions because serving and helping others are the times that you feel the most appreciated and valued. I see a future of intense but not so heavy schedule, big fat check, the shopping spree and the vacay whenever however. The most important is the pouring from your patient, family patient, your coworkers and community in praise for how amazing of a human not just a nurse you are. Y’all may even have your own charity to give back especially to the neighborhood in which you grew up in.
MASCULINE ENERGY
Your life has been stagnant lately and you are seriously thinking about joining the army. GREEN LIGHT. Your spiritual team is supporting you in that path. The way your brain function is going to bring a plus to the disciplinary structure of the military. That switch of career is exactly what you need.
💌 : If you wanna know how to use your sexual energy to manifest your desire reality, you always check this audio PAC which will also unlock all the extended content.
PILE 3
10 pentacles, 4 swords (reverse), Knight of cups, 8 pentacles
Your energy SCREAMS influencer. Deep down in your soul all you want is peace. Y’all come from an extremely toxic household.
Your dream reality is a happy household. Where there’s no constant screaming. Loving a supportive family of your own. A family that has an extremely strong bond that no matter what life throws at y’all, you guys come out even closer to each other. Living life with a husband/wife that doesn't mind sharing tasks. That enjoys changing the diaper, waking up early every morning to brew coffee for the both of y’all because he/she loves you and most importantly that LOVES spending time with his/hers kids. You want your home to be a synonym of a comfort place for your kids and a refuge for your partner. You want it to be your safe haven. Is not about everything going perfect but instead it is all about the constant happiness in the mundane from each member of the family. I see y’all with your hair in a bun, wearing a red t-shirt walking half asleep towards a crib of a baby girl. After leaving the warm embrace of your partner, who soon follows after you after y’all attempt to watch a movie. Even though you spend the whole day taking care of a newborn who woke up because his big brother was screaming at his video game. I’m hearing : ‘’ Sorry, mom !’’. I think that baby girl is a surprise baby because there is an age gap between your last one and her. Babe imma look deep into your eyes (as deep as the computer screen allows me), you deserve it. I know you are tired of the physical abuse you are experiencing in your family and you don’t want to stand up and speak your truth because you don’t want to end up in the system. So imma need y’all to lean on your friend. Because you need a safe place to release before that pain kills you. I feel like y’all have an amazing friend group and you need to stop focusing on the big goal and take it step by step. I just ear you : ‘’ Who are u to tell me what to do ?’’ Answer: ‘’A bitch way more familiar with abuse than u think’’. Your life will not change overnight. You need to do a lot of healing before that reality comes to you. I know y’all are tired, everytime u build, your family fuck up. Imma tell you the way it is … they keep breaking because you allow it. When you stop seeking validation from them in a form of seeking understanding you are going to realize that you should have never sought validation from your abuser. I know that’s your parents but 2 truths can coexist trust me. Why the heck would you want validation from broken people when all you truly want is a wholesome family ? Do you take financial advice from a broke person when you want to make money ?. The sooner you are going to start living for yourself the faster that reality becomes yours. Stop thinking a man/woman is going to save you. Love won't make you see the light. Only you can bring yourself out of your hole and then will the reward of love present itself. A lot of y’all want to be elementary or highschool teachers. I keep seeing someone strolling on tiktok, looking through ‘’ Day in the life of a teacher…’’. Some others of y’all are actively studying towards a degree in education and the success and joy you are going to feel when walking the podium is going to be so overwhelming. Because you are the reason behind it. You are the one who put all the chances behind you to make your dream happen even though your biggest enemy was supposed to be your biggest supporter. Stay focus babe, everyone knows you deserve it more than anyone. You are the only one that seems to be missing the memo by the way you are behaving.
💌 : If you wanna know how to use your sexual energy to manifest your desire reality, you always check this audio PAC which will also unlock all the extended content.
#tarot#tarot reading#pac#tarotcommunity#pick a card#tarot cards#divination#pick a picture#pick a pile#18+ tarot#future spouse#paid tarot reading#paid readings#paid tarot readings#paid services
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Time to Move? [Mini Verstappen Series]
Dad!Max Verstappen x Fiancée!Reader (Established Relationship)
Summary: When Max had brought up moving, it was because the lease on his apartment was going to be up at the end of the year. Maybe it was time to find a new place for all of you.
Warning(s): Implied Sexual Content in the first half
Words: 2.6k
Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist
Nico was already in bed for the night after refusing to go to sleep without Max reading him a story. He had protested until you offered to read Nico two stories if he let Papa finish his race. Nico perked up and then dragged his feet to bed. He made it through the first story, and by the time you were getting through the second one, he was falling asleep.
You joined Max in the living room after Nico had fallen asleep, where he was sitting on his racing sim talking to someone before he logged off for the night. Max and the guys from Team Redline had been streaming tonight.
“Yeah, I’ll be back on tomorrow.” He said before clicking something on the steering wheel.
“Sure, bye guys.” Max turned the sim off before pulling off his headphones and stepped out of his seat.
Your laptop was open looking at houses. You and Max had been talking about moving from his apartment to a house. You had been looking at houses online for the last few days and you couldn’t find anything in Monaco that looked like it was a good house for Nico to grow up in. You wanted things like a few bedrooms for you and Max to have your own spaces in the house, a pool, and a yard for Nico.
“How’s looking at houses?” He asked taking the empty can of Red Bull before throwing it in the recycling bin in the kitchen.
“It’s like there is nothing for sale. Maybe we should hire someone to find something for us.” You shut your laptop and put it on the coffee table.
“We don’t have to stay in Monaco, we can move further out.”
“We could, maybe moving out a little further would help.”
“I’m sure we’ll find something, there’s no rush.”
He was right there wasn’t, there was just so much going on for all of you right now. You were sitting down with the wedding planner while working, and you had recently just started to figure out how Nico’s karting schedule would end up working with Max’s schedule for the rest of the season. You didn’t even want to think about what was going on at work right now.
“I know.”
When Max had brought up moving, it was because the lease on his apartment was going to be up at the end of the year, so you suggested looking at buying a house instead of renting. You would be able to have your own office, instead of just having your desk set up in the living room, Max could have his racing sim in one of the guest rooms, and Nico would have more room for his toys since he was slowly growing out of his bedroom. Max’s two-bedroom apartment made sense when you had moved in but now there wasn’t as much room for the three of you to grow into. It just made sense for you to find somewhere with more space.
Max had pulled you from the couch guiding you towards the master bedroom to take your mind off of the events of the day. Max leaned down, your lips meeting, feeling his eyelashes flutter closed against your cheekbones.
Your hands went to his back, letting your fingernails slightly dig into the fabric of his shirt. You slid your hands under the hem feeling his warm soft skin under your fingers. He pulled back only to start to pull at the tight fabric of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor hitting your bare feet.
It had taken another month looking at houses before you and Max even bothered talking to a real estate agent. Eventually, on a Sunday, both you and Max woke up early, dropping Nico off at Daniel’s for the day before going to meet the realtor. The Aussie had taken Nico from your arms, almost shooing both you and Max out of his apartment, wanting to spend every moment that he could with his godson.
“Uncle Daniel has it all handled,” He said, taking the bag out of Max’s hands. Nico was already situated on the couch asking Daniel if he had any fun games that they could play.
After that you and Max walked down to the garage to get into his car. He pulled open your door for you before you slid into the seat.
Max had gotten in and then started the car, you were making a small list of all of the things the house would need, “Pool, gym, 4 or 5 bedrooms.”
“And a big garage, I’m going to need a workspace to keep working on Nico’s kart.” Max’s focus was on the road but it seemed like the list for what you wanted was never ending.
You were meeting the realtor just outside of Monaco in a gated community. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about privacy. Max had pulled the car up to the house, and it could only be described as a big, modern, white box.
“I bet the moment we step into the house, we’ll be able to smell that the paint isn’t all the way dry.” You gave a small nod agreeing with Max. The house was new, too new for your liking.
You met the agent inside, he spoke with a thick French accent and told you the basic information of the house. It was on almost a full acre of land, had a pool, 4 bedrooms, a kitchen, a 2-car garage, and it was under 14 million euros. However, as you looked around the house there was no grass for Nico to run around on, and the closets in the house were small with the master bedroom sharing a single small closet.
This wasn’t the house for you and Max.
The next house you and Max drove to wasn’t on the market yet, it would be going up in about a week, and it didn’t even have an estimated price from the seller. It was close to Monaco, but a little higher up in the hills. You were concerned that since it was just outside of the city, it may not be considered as a part of Monaco, but rather in the next part over.
As Max pulled up to the gate, the guard had let you through. It looked like a cream one-story house, and you could see that there was a small water feature that led to the front door. The agent had walked in front of you with the key that had been in the lockbox before opening the door leading to a long entryway. It looked like going left would lead to the living room, and going right would lead to the dining room and the kitchen. But your eyes went front and center, looking out on the big backyard and pool, you felt like asking if all of the outdoor furniture came with the house.
You could feel Max’s hand on your hip, leading you down the hall to the kitchen. You could tell from the kitchen that it was a little dated but not too bad. It had a free-standing coffee maker instead of one that was built in, and an induction top stove, instead of a gas top like at the apartment. If you and Max got the house it was something that would need to be re-done before you moved in.
You and Max walked around the house for a while longer, the house turned out to be two stories, not one. It had two bedrooms upstairs both with en-suite bathrooms. When you had taken the stairs from the kitchen, it led down a long hallway that was photoless aside from the doorways that led to other rooms.
Max had stopped in front of a set of double doors, before pushing one open to reveal what could only be the master bedroom. There were doors that seemed to lead outside, the bed was up against the wall on the opposite side of the room, and it seemed like two doorways were hugging each side behind the bed. You and Max walked through one each, you ended up in a closet with white built-in shelves and a center island before seeing what was another doorway. You walked through it, and ended up meeting Max in the middle of the bathroom, which was settled between the two large closets; his and hers.
You gave the bathroom a quick look over, a big walk in shower with a bench, freestanding tub, makeup counter, and two sinks. From there you walked the rest of the second floor, there were another three bedrooms, a gym, and a wine cellar tucked away in the corner. The house had more than enough room for you, Max, Nico, and the cats.
From there you made your way back upstairs, finally walking outside to see the pool. The upstairs terrace had stairs leading down to the pool.
Max took your hand and led you down the stairs before you both stopped in front of the pool to see the birdseye view of Monaco and the Mediterranean sea from the backyard, even this far up in the mountains the sea still gave off a bright blue shine almost as if it was mirroring the sky.
You could hear Max’s shoes against the grass as he moved to lie down in one of the lounge chairs, his head already laid back closing his eyes. You pulled your heels off, moving to sit next to him on the lounge before he pulled you flush against his chest to lay down next to him.
“You like it?” He muttered into your hair.
“Yes.” You answered simply.
“I’ll ask him when it’s going to be put on the market.” Max didn’t even move from his spot, he just wrapped his arm around your waist, forcing your legs apart so that you were straddling one of his thighs.
“We don’t even know how much it is,” You started. “And the kitchen needs to be re-done.”
Max ran his hands over your arms, silently telling you to calm down, “We’ll figure it out. Besides, the last house is all the way on the other side of Monaco.”
You laid your head against Max’s chest, nuzzling your nose into his white t-shirt.
“Now you're just being lazy.” Max let out a loud laugh at your words.
“You wore me out with your late night activities.” His hand moved down to grip the inside of your thigh.
“You weren’t complaining then.” You gave him a small pout. Max gave you a crooked smile and then reached for your hand, kissing the band of your engagement ring.
You and Max laid there for a few more moments before making your way back up the stairs and into the living room to see the agent on the phone.
He looked up at the sound of your heels clicking on the white stone outside of the pocket doors.
“So, what do you think?” He asked.
“It’s nice,” Max started.
“That’s good. A little more what you were expecting… And it’s still within the Monaco postal code, so you don’t have to worry about not being considered a resident while you’re living here, even though you're technically in Saint-Jean Cap Ferret.” As the agent talked, you knew that it meant that the price would go down a bit since you weren’t actually in Monaco still.
“What’s the price?” The agent widened his eyes. He wasn’t expecting Max to just outright ask about the price.
“Well… Umm… I think the owner was looking at 17.5 million euros.”
“17.5,” You stated, the agent nodded. “What about 16.5? Given that I want to re-due the kitchen, and I would want to negotiate for the furniture to come with the house.”
“The kitchen is brand new,” The agent stated, but you knew he was lying. “And all of the furniture is from a staging company.”
“No, the kitchen isn’t, it has a free standing coffee maker, and the fronts of the cabinets need to be replaced. I’m sure the seller can pay out the staging company. Let’s also talk about the fact that it also isn’t on the market yet. I bet that the seller will want to list it at 17.5 and it’ll sit because the price is too high.”
You didn’t work in real estate but after all of your years in banking, private asset management was something you were knowledgeable in. Homes like this one were important assets in a portfolio. Since the house wasn’t new construction, and the seller wasn’t the original builder, they couldn’t price it at 17.5 million given the other homes in the area.
“He won’t go for that.”
“Why don’t you ask him?” You weren’t really suggesting it. But the agent was making it hard for you, you had clients at work who were more decisive in their choices then this guy.
It took a few seconds, but it was almost like the agent had scurried off to the other side of the house with his hand tightly gripping his phone.
“So this is what I’m missing while you’re working all day.” Max said softly, as he laid one of his hands on your hip.
“Max,” You said. He had pulled you into his chest and quickly dropped a kiss to your bare shoulder.
“I’m sitting in on one of your meetings next time.” You couldn’t tell if Max was joking or not. You knew that he was only trying to make you relax a bit.
“And what are you going to do while I’m busy?”
“I’ll find something to entertain myself with.” You saw Max’s eyes drop to your neck, before they quicked moved up again to meet your eyes.
“Want to play my assistant for the day?” You asked him. You could see the excitement fill Max’s eyes, and knew that if Max was going to watch you “work” you weren’t going to get anything done that day. He gave you a wordless nod before you heard footsteps again.
“16.5 million, all cash, outdoor furniture included.” The Agent was quick to say with his phone pressed into his white shirt.
Max just looked at you, and you read it as he was letting you take care of this. You gave the agent a half nod, “With a 14 day inspection contingency.”
The agent just stared at you, and you could hear sound coming from his phone. He gave you a curt nod, and placed his phone back up to his ear reiterating your additional stipulation.
It took a few moments before the agent got off the phone. “The seller is willing to take the additional stipulation.”
“Great.” You said.
“I’ll start the paperwork and we should have everything ready in the next few days.” The agent placed his hand out towards you. You shook his hand, and then he shook Max’s. “Congratulations on your new home.”
The agent left both of you in the house, instructing you to place the key back in the lock box. Technically you weren’t allowed to have the keys until the paperwork went through and everything was signed and notarized.
“Welcome home.” Max said with his hand on your hip.
“Tell me that again when we get the keys and the kitchen is re-done.”
Max laughed, “I’ll make sure, mijn leeuwin.”
You leaned into Max and up to kiss him. It would take a little bit but you couldn’t wait to make this house into yours and Max’s home.
Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca
#mini verstappen series#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen imagines#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#mv33 imagine#mv33 x reader#mv33 x you#mv1 x reader#mv1 x you#mv1 imagine#f1 imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula one imagine
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Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort
AN: heads up, next post is NSFW so it will be broken up into "two parts" (even though it's one post). First part is the SFW part which will post on tumblr as normal, and the rest will be on Pillowfort which will be linked to the post. I'll drop a formal TW/CW before the post drops tomorrow he he
Transcript under the cut
Transcript:
Nancy Narrates: [There was a certain feeling that arose within me when I saw her name on properties around the city; it stirred a mix of both anger and desire]
Nancy Narrates: [If I was going to revel in the satisfaction of her loss to me, I knew I would have to put in twice the work, even if it came at a price]
-
Geoffrey: Go, Johnny! Go! Keep pushing!
Bob: You got it, kid! Bring it home!
Geoffrey: YEEEAAH! That’s my boy! That’s my son!
Bob: Whoa! Kid’s a natural athlete!
Jonathan: I-I made it? I made it! I did it!
Jonathan: Mom! Mom, I made my first goal! Mom!
Nancy: I guaranteed to Mayor Dreamer that I could cut cost 20%. We have 15 days left before the bid is awarded. We need to make this happen!
-
Malcolm: Mommy, come look at my sketches! I made a big house, just like you-
Nancy: I can’t keep burning daylight waiting for answers- one second. Malcolm, not now. Mommy is busy.
Malcolm: [whines] But you’re always busy! I want you to look at it right now!
Nancy: [groans] Please, no whining. Spare Mommy for a moment, please? Give me an hour.
Malcolm: [huffs] One hour!
Nancy: One hour.
Malcolm: It’s been exactly one hour, lady! Mommy? Heeyy...are you sleeping?
-
Nancy: She thinks she can best me at my own game? I’ve prepared my whole life for this, I refuse to let some second rate nothing firm challenge me.
Nancy: And I’ve research her work, her designs are horrid. She’s a brutalist. Of course she is. Anyone can put no effort into a tacky, soulless desolate building and slap a sale price on it. It requires no talent which she clearly lacks.
Geoffrey: Nance. [huffs] Listen, I love hearing about your day, but when I asked how you would like to celebrate our 10 year anniversary, you said you'd be busy with the Dreamer Project, which I understand, but when I asked could we make arrangements after, you went on a tangent about Lily Feng for 45 minutes.
Nancy: D-did I? ...I’m sorry.
Geoffrey: I know I married a passionate woman. It’s just, you have to find a balance with these things. You have to make room for the boys and for me.
Geoffrey: Johnny is feeling sore about you missing his big shot at his game.
Nancy: But I didn’t miss it. I was there!
Geoffrey: There’s being there, and then there’s being there, you know?
Nancy: God, I’m making such a mess of this. I’ll make it up to him. Perhaps... we can make a thing of it, our anniversary. We can take a trip with the boys.
Geoffrey: I’d love that. Baby, I don’t mean to make you feel bad-
Nancy: No, you were right to. I’m getting too carried away.
Geoffrey: [chuckles] I don’t know why you’re so worried, we all know you’ll win.
From: Nancy Landgraab ([email protected]) 3 more days until I’m awarded the bid. I may have a janitorial position open for you if you ask me nicely for it.
From: Lily Feng ([email protected]) Up so late thinking about me, are you? I guess we’ll see who ends up begging on their knees for work, Landgraab.
-
Assistant: Mrs. Landgraab, the site manager from Tomarang returned your call. He’s on line one. He also has his translator on the line as well.
Nancy Narrates: [I was going to win. Fortunately for me, money was a language spoken everywhere and I had plenty of it]
Lily: [speaking in Tomarangi]
Victor: I need to speak with you. It’s urgent.
Lily: [scoffs, laughs] More important than the needs of our clients here?
Victor: It’s about the Dreamer Project and the Landgraabs.
Victor: The contractors pulled out. They were paid off.
Lily: Fuck! This cannot happen, Victor! The fucking proposal is due in 24 hours! Where the hell are we going to get the cheap labor and materials?!
Victor: We can’t! We’re screwed!
Lily: So... so she won? Is that it?
Victor: Won? Are you serious? Damn it, Lily! You and this- this game of yours will ruin us! We needed this!
Lily: [murmurs] She- actually beat me?
#the art of being seen#tw mild sim spice#the landgraabs#Nancy Landgraab#Lily Feng#Geoffrey Landgraab#Johnny Zest#Malcolm Landgraab#sims 4 simblr#ts4 simblr#sims 4 stories#sims 4#sims 4 community
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ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 when they get jealous
a/n: this is my istj waiting room activity
notes: yujin is not included due to his age, jiwoong’s is set in the real world (aka he’s an idol), did not proofread
wc | 4.2k
jiwoong
i don’t think jiwoong gets jealous often
it’s just not his first thought when it comes to certain things LOL
but, depending on the situation, he absolutely will get jealous, but not in the way most people do
many people digest jealousy/envy as a big emotion but i don’t think it’s very big for jiwoong
and he knows that his jealousy isn’t something you should have to deal with but he doesn’t want to deal with it either so he’ll do his best to get rid of the issue without you knowing, which means making up creative ways to squash the situation
they all incorporate wherever you are
so let’s say you’re at the mall, you’re waiting for him to get out of a store, and a guy walks up to you and starts chatting you up
jiwoong will walk up to you and smile at whatever guy is flirting with you, acting completely fine
and then he’ll dip down and whisper something into your ear, and it’s usually something super unserious
“there’s a 50% sale at the ice cream shop and you get a fun cup for free”
you’re gone, he’s happy, and whatever guy was chatting you up is completely out of the picture
things are different when it comes to his members though
he always knew you liked kids and was well aware that you often volunteered to help out with kids, and he knew that you tutored high school students throughout university
nevertheless, jiwoong never thought han yujin would be his worst enemy
JIWOONG IS NORMALLY the most patient person you know—he can sit with you in a shop for an hour, watching you debate over two different mugs to buy without voicing one complaint. However, for some reason, watching you cook Yujin’s lunch is the worst thing he’s ever had to experience.
You had insisted on it after finding out he was planning on going to school after how long they’d been promoting, saying that it would be hard for him to go to school without anyone to cook him lunch. Jiwoong insisted that Hanbin probably would’ve, but you brushed him off, saying it wouldn’t take you long.
An hour and a half later, he was still sitting there, watching you cut watermelon into flowers. It was nearly 8 o’clock, and the movie you were going to was due to start at 8:45—meaning you had to leave soon.
“Are you almost done?” he asked, putting his down on the counter. You scoffed, putting the lid onto the last section of Yujin’s lunch box.
“What’s up with you?” you asked, beginning to wrap it up. “You’ve asked three times in the last hour.”
“I’m jealous that you’re spending more time fussing over Yujin’s lunch than hanging out with your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen in a long time.”
“You’re jealous over Yujin?” you asked, exasperated, turning around and putting your hands on your hips. “He’s your kid too! You should help out! What father is jealous of their own child?”
zhang hao
there are 2 men in zb1 that don’t get jealous literally ever and hao is one of them
literally how could he be jealous when he’s zhang hao
most of the time, actually, you’re the one getting jealous (which makes sense, because he’s zhang hao)
and he always mocks you for it, which you hate
he’ll say something like “aw, do you think they’re going to steal me away from you?” and you have to resist the urge to punch him in the stomach
so when he actually gets jealous it is sooooo much fun for you
you milk it to no end. it is an opportunity you CANNOT waste
most of the time, it happens at his fancy violinist events, where you meet other people who are just as talented and impressive as him (and sometimes, they’re pretty attractive, too)
when he’s jealous, he sticks to your side and gets a little bit mean, especially towards whoever he’s jealous of
gets super touchy too
has a hand around your waist and drags you around with him just to make sure everyone gets the big picture
one day, he notices you and hanbin have been hanging out a lot all of a sudden, and it makes him really, really jealous
mostly because he can’t do his little flaunt routine, because he’s flaunted you to him enough
and then you realize he’s jealous that you and hanbin have been spending a lot of time together planning his birthday party
so obviously you capitalize on it immediately
it backfires on you
HAO WASN’T TRYING to be dramatic, but when he swung the door to Hanbin’s apartment open, having dug the spare key out from under the mat, he couldn’t help but march in like a soldier going to war.
You and Hanbin were sitting at his dining table, both of your laptops open. You had a cup of tea on the table, too, in a mug Hao knew he’d gifted Hanbin for his birthday a couple of years back.
“You let him make you tea?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air like he was in some sort of drama. Both you and Hanbin stared at him in a mix of shock and confusion, wondering what in the world had caused him to barge in like that. Sure, you were beginning to pick up the fact that he was jealous of your business meetings with his best friend, but you weren’t exactly aware of how far you’d let it progress.
“Well, I made the tea—”
“You know where he keeps his tea?” he cut you off, staring at you while tapping his foot on the ground. “I am sick of this. How am I being left out by my partner and my best friend? What did I do to deserve this?”
“I think you’re getting the wrong idea,” Hanbin said, slowly closing his laptop. “We aren’t hanging out, per se, so we aren’t exactly leaving you out.”
“Then why have you spent hours upon hours together over the past week?”
You placed a hand over your mouth, trying to stop from laughing. “Hao, please be serious. What’s next week?”
His cheeks turned bright red, and you wished you could’ve got his big outburst on video.
hanbin
i am a believer that hanbin get sooo jealous (have you seen him glare at people's interaction with hao LOL)
he’s like the nicest guy on earth so there has to be one negative emotion that he feels
and it’s quite literally only over his loved ones, nothing else
will get jealous if people spend too much time with hao
will get even more jealous if people steal your attention away from him
he doesn’t even get jealous over things he should be getting jealous over, it’s things he hallucinates
“that guy stared at you a little too weirdly…”
“he was just our waiter?”
“still he was too friendly…i got bad vibes”
when hanbin gets jealous, though, it’s not very serious and never causes a problem between you two
he might hold your hand a little tighter or not be very fond of leaving you alone, but otherwise it’s not an issue
there are instances where his jealousy can get serious, and most of the time it’s pretty warranted (and this is when hanbin leans towards protective)
you’ll be watching one of his performances among a bunch of his peers and someone will get a little too touchy with you
and dancers are very hot so he might get a little insecure too
he will stomp over to you, sweaty and tired, and drag you away without saying a word to whoever was chatting you up
other than that his jealousy is kind of cute
hanbin doesn’t view any of the boys as enemies but sometimes matthew can be super cute
and while he considers matthew one of his best friends sometimes he forgets that matthew is just like that and isn’t trying to woo you
matthew, however, is well versed in the art that is hanbinism and is immune to it
YOU KNOW HANBIN like the back of your hand. He’s sweet, pretty, and enjoys being around the people he loves. And, you know for a fact Matthew is one of the people he loves. Nevertheless, when he skips up to you two with a white rose he picked, Taerae in tow, you can practically see a vein pop out of Hanbin’s head.
“Look at how pretty this is!” he smiled, and you nodded, agreeing with him. “Taerae and I found a bush of them, and I figured I’d pick one to give to you.”
You hear Hanbin scoff, and, feeling panic rush up your throat, you turn to him with horror flowing through you. The look in his eyes is dangerous, and a sort of shallow smile appears on his face—you don’t like it one bit. You turn back to Matthew, who seems completely unphased, and instead keeps talking.
“Here,” he said, holding it out to Hanbin. He stares at it, raising his eyebrows in confusion.
“I thought you were giving it to [First]?”
“Huh? That would be weird,” Matthew replies, tilting his head. You hear Taerae begin to laugh, likely at Hanbin, and you have to hold back a little chuckle as well. “Wouldn’t you be the one to give a rose to them? Anyway, here you go.”
Hanbin, dumbfounded, takes the rose from Matthew’s hand, and he and Taerae disappear off into the distance.
matthew
matthew is #2 of men in zb1 who don’t get jealous often
literally doesn’t have the brain capacity for it
he’s like a universal friend, and universal friends don’t get jealous of anybody, nor do they distrust their significant others
a more appropriate word to use would be uncomfortable
at least that’s what matthew says when he gets jealous LOL
he genuinely doesn’t think he feels jealous because he doesn’t have any worry that whoever is talking to you is going to “steal” you away from him, but he certainly doesn’t appreciate anybody hardcore flirting with you
he can handle a “you’re so pretty” or an “i love your outfit” but if someone is persisting and he can tell you’re uncomfortable (both factors have to be present, or he’ll just let you handle it yourself) he will do his best to shut it down
but in the matthew way
so he walks over to you with a big smile on his face and starts talking to you like he normally would
“hey, babe, i lost you for a second”
whoever’s talking to you literally can’t keep going because of how nice matthew is
“oh, who’s this? it’s nice to meet you! i’m [first]’s boyfriend, matthew”
they’re gone within 2 minutes and matthew is feeling successful
he’ll probably give you a kiss on the cheek afterwards just to hammer home his point
he will, however, admit that he gets jealous of the other members lol
it’s mostly because he considers them his friends, though, so the idea that you’d be into one of them is scary to him
as a result, he gets a little wary when he stumbles upon you chatting with jiwoong at a party
BEFORE MATTHEW LEFT to go get a drink, you were sitting on the couch, playing a game on your phone. He planned to tell you that you could leave after he finished the drink, but when he returned, Jiwoong was sitting across from you, speaking with you.
The smile on your face was genuine, and you seemed overjoyed that you weren’t bored anymore. And, subconsciously, Matthew took it as you being happy that Jiwoong was talking to you, and not because you were glad you wouldn’t have to drag Matthew away from his friends anymore (which was the truth).
He sat back down next to you, sitting on the edge of the seat and putting his cup down on the coffee table. You smiled at him, and Jiwoong said his hellos, to which Matthew replied less than enthusiastically.
“We were just chatting about the new art exhibit that opened up at the museum. You know, the one we went to last week?”
“Yeah, I remember,” he said, taking a long sip of the drink. You raised an eyebrow, finally picking up that Matthew was feeling a bit jealous. “You planning on going again, or something?”
“Nope,” Jiwoong cut in, leaning back in his chair. “Actually, [First] was just talking about how much she enjoyed going with you, as you seemed to like it a lot. She said your eyes were sparkling the entire time.”
Matthew shut up quick after that, and you didn’t mention it ever again.
taerae
taerae’s jealousy is silent
you won’t know he’s jealous until well after the event has occurred
he might bring it up in passing weeks later and you’re absolutely dumbfounded
mostly because you had no clue
“you were jealous?”
“yeah, he kept staring at your lips and was getting super touchy with you. how would i not be jealous?”
you think about the interaction for hours afterward, you skim through all the memories, and you cannot figure out where he conveyed he was jealous
he’s so good at masking any negative emotion that when you manage to notice his jealousy it’s almost a little bit scary
you’ll be talking with someone, it doesn’t matter who, and you’ll look over at him for a second and notice this weird look in his eyes
and then you’ll be hyperaware of how everything he says has this sharp edge to it
little jabs that neither you or whoever you’re talking to would be able to pick up unless they were actively looking for hostility
lowkey it’s kind of attractive LOL
taerae’s usually the picture of “kind” so seeing him go into a lockdown mode is a bit fun for you, even if it’s barely noticeable
after the event that made him jealous he’s super touchy with you which is also fun for you
because taerae gives gooood hugs and is comfortable to lay on
so, long story short, if he’s ever jealous of the boys you don’t know until afterward
sometimes even weeks after the fact
and obviously when you were fawning over zhang hao after his violin recital, which taerae had taken you to, you weren’t exactly aware of the way he was staring at hao
WHEN TAERAE GRABS your hand about a minute into your drive, lacing all of your fingers together and pulling your hand onto his lap, your jaw drops. You turn to look at him with shock on your face, trying to find the words to say. “No way,” you gasped, putting your other hand over your mouth.
He looks over at you for a brief second, confused as to why you’re suddenly making such a big deal that he was holding your hand. “What? I don’t understand.”
“You were jealous? Of Hao?” you exclaimed, letting your hand drop from your mouth. “Why? I mean, he did well, did he not? Was I too complimentary? Do I need to reel it back next time?”
“What? No, you were just being nice. Where did you get the idea I was jealous?”
“You say that, but in a month and a half, you’re going to be like, ‘You know what made me super jealous?’ and then you’re going to drop three bombs on me,” you replied. “And this is going to be included. So, just say it now, so we can get it over with.”
Taerae blinked a couple of times, tightening his grip on your hand. “Okay, maybe I was a little jealous—”
You wrenched your hand away from his, clapping excitedly. “Oh, I’m a genius! I have a degree in Taeraeology now, seriously.”
“What in the world is Taeraeology?”
ricky
when ricky gets jealous it’s like not a competition
he just shuts the situation down
i mean he’s so tall and so gorgeous that anybody who tries anything with you is immediately so intimidated the moment he does anything, he barely even has to talk
he literally has a neck tattoo like that’s terrifying
as a result he does not have the time to get seriously jealous because anyone who’s flirting with you is sprinting away the moment they lay eyes on him approaching you
most of the time people don’t even try anything anyway because they see you with him before you’re separated
for the few that are willing to stand up to ricky, it’s pretty funny for you to watch
“[first], who’s this?” and you watch the competitor cartoon-gulp right in front of you
they maybe last about 15 seconds before they bid you goodbye out of pure intimidation like good for you ricky
if it’s one of the days where he looks incredibly cute and soft (you know what i’m talking about) things tend to go south because ricky is awkward and his strong suit is rbf
at which point you end up having to be the one to be like “okay, me and my boyfriend are going to head out now!” LOL
among the jebis the only one ricky is going to get jealous of is gyuvin and that’s because they’re the same age and very close
he knows gyuvin will never make a move on you but that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous when gyuvin is taking up too much of your attention
and he’ll straight up tell him to fuck off too LOL
riyangis i get you
GYUVIN LOOKS LIKE he’s about to burst into laughter as Ricky stands next to you, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He never takes Ricky’s jealousy seriously, which you understand why, given the fact that they’re best friends, and he has absolutely no interest in you whatsoever.
“You should go home now,” Ricky insists, motioning towards the front door. “I think we’ve hung out for long enough today.”
It was partially your fault for introducing a topic Ricky wasn’t versed in, but Gyuvin was the only other person you knew had watched the show you were watching, and you were itching to talk about it with somebody who understood. But, you’d pushed it too far, and he’d gotten a bit upset that you were focusing on Gyuvin when he had barged into your date.
“Aw, but [First] is my friend, too.”
“And, if we were both drowning, she’d choose me over you. What’s your point?”
Gyuvin burst into laughter, clutching his stomach as he wobbled towards the door. You held back your laughter as best you could, nearly losing it as Gyuvin struggled to put on the pair of bright yellow Crocs he decided to wear when he walked over. He opened the door and slammed it shut, yet you could still hear him laughing outside.
Then, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. You laughed so hard that you also had to hold your stomach, and Ricky marched away from you, ignoring the halfassed apologies that fell from your lips.
gyuvin
gyuvin isn’t usually a jealous guy but he can get jealous, as opposed to hao and matthew who virtually never get jealous
when he gets jealous though it’s somewhat upsetting
it usually means something happened that wounded his pride or made him feel insecure, which you don’t enjoy obviously
so 99.9% of the time, if gyuvin is jealous, it’s because one of the members did something to/with you that he wasn’t super okay with
it’s never anything minute, like one of them liking an instagram post or something stupid, rather something happening under his nose
he loves and respects them a lot so the idea that they did something with his s/o without him knowing makes him super duper unhappy
and then he’ll start to think that there’s something they have that he didn’t, so he gets a bit insecure, too
but he absolutely will convince himself it’s not a big deal so then he’s just in an extra bad mood for the rest of the day
you usually have to squeeze whatever’s wrong out of him and, when you manage to, you feel really bad
because usually whatever happened to upset him was something you thought you’d addressed with him and/or thought he knew about
like ricky, he gets most jealous over things that happen between you and ricky
because you’re all close in age and gyuvin and ricky spend all of their time together, you’re obviously friends with him too
and, in ricky’s seasonal instagram wrap up post, he notices a selfie of you two in what he thinks was a hangout you had together without him knowing based on the background
it ruins his day so fast :( but you make sure to patch up the misunderstanding
GYUVIN HATES THE WAY HE FEELS as he gears up to speak, twiddling his thumbs while you sit across from him at the table, a frown painting your face. He doesn’t like it when you look sad, and he doesn’t like feeling this way or addressing that he feels it. So, when the time comes where he has to talk about it, it eats him up from the inside out.
“Did you hang out with Ricky? Without me?”
You immediately furrow your eyebrows, as if you’re confused. “Not that I know of? I barely even text Ricky outside of the group chat the three of us have. Where’d you get that idea?”
Embarrassed, Gyuvin decides to pull up the post, turning his phone to face you. You take it from his hands, bringing it closer to your face so that you can get a better look at it. Then, recognition floods your features, and your frown turns into a smile. “That was when we roadtripped to the beach. Not pictured here are you and Taerae, who were getting us coffee.”
Gyuvin snatches the phone back, feeling even more embarrassed. He zooms in on the background parts, ignoring you and Ricky, quickly realizing that the filter Ricky put on the picture made the water look much bluer than it actually had been, leading him to believe you’d gone on your own separate beach trip. Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks, Gyuvin smiled crookedly.
“My bad.”
gunwook
i actually struggled with this
on one hand i don’t think gunwook would get jealous easily
he’s a very reasonable boyfriend and has quite literally never wronged you
on the other hand i do think he would get jealous somewhat frequently
in the same way as taerae, it’s very quiet jealousy, but you will literally never know with him
he won’t ever bring it up after it happens and will just. move on
he also might get a little snarky with whoever approached you afterwards, but never when you’re around, so you are none the wiser
if you find out gunwook got jealous, you are finding out from other people, which you think is absolutely insane
one day you’ll be like cordially chatting with gyuvin and he’ll bring up this one time gunwook got super mega jealous over one of your guy friends and how it haunted him for months and you’re like ??? what
gyuvin is like you DIDN’T know? and then you learn about every single time gunwook has gotten jealous and then told him + yujin + ricky about it
apparently it was so obvious to the boys that hanbin literally asked him about it
you’re flabbergasted
so then you approach gunwook like “wtf is this?” and he’s like
“oh yeah”
what do you mean OH YEAH?
you’re actually so shocked
gunwook isn’t the type to get jealous of the boys though like that just straight up won’t happen
doesn’t matter who you’re talking to, how much time you spend with them, etc
he knows they’d never pull something with you ever so you could literally go on a remote vacation to the amazon rainforest with NO cell service with like hanbin and he wouldn’t give a shit
TAERAE WAS BUSY, which meant you’d dragged Hanbin along with you to go shopping for Christmas presents for the boys. You’d been dating Gunwook long enough that you felt like it was a good way to show gratitude for them, and Hanbin agreed to take you to the mall to get the gifts.
Of course, you couldn’t take Gunwook, because you were planning on buying a good chunk of his gift, too, which meant you hadn’t told him where you were going. So, when he called, you were somewhat apprehensive to pick up.
Hanbin, on the other hand, looked terrified.
“Can I come over? I’m bored,” he asked, and you held back the urge to laugh as you stared at Hanbin, who looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“I’m Christmas-present shopping with Hanbin, actually. Sorry.”
Hanbin’s jaw dropped, likely at the fact that you just came right out with it, but you weren’t worried in the slightest. “Oh, okay. That’s cool. Have fun. Tell Hanbin I said hello.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
He hung up, and Hanbin’s jaw dropped farther. “He just…doesn’t care? Like at all?”
You gave him an inquisitive look, as if you didn’t understand what he was implying. “Is he supposed to?"
thank you for reading !
tags: @happysmileybee
#cinna.zb1#zb1 x reader#zerobaseone x reader#zb1 scenarios#zb1 reactions#zb1 fluff#zb1 angst#zb1 headcanons#jiwoong x reader#zhang hao x reader#hanbin x reader#sung hanbin x reader#seok matthew x reader#taerae x reader#ricky x reader#gyuvin x reader#gunwook x reader#req
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“Didn’t expect to see you out here.”
Your head pops up as the unexpected voice makes itself known, twisting your face towards the sound only to see a figure standing at the end of the alley. He’s silhouetted where he stands—a shape more than a person. You can tell he’s tall, broad, and has a knot of hair tied up loosely at his crown.
Geto Suguru steps into the light where you can see him better, though it makes his sudden appearance no less surprising.
“Did you drink too much?” he asks, treading a few steps closer as he eyes you worriedly. You pull yourself up from where you’d been crouching on the ground.
“No, no. Just getting some air,” you reply with a stiff smile, dipping in a bow and quickly adjusting your pencil skirt once you’re back upright.
He has his tie loosened over his shirt with the top button undone, and his suit jacket is nowhere to be seen. He considers you for a moment, and his attention makes you want to fidget but you fight the urge.
You watch as he pulls packet of cigarettes from the breast pocket of his shirt and offers it out to you. “Do you smoke?”
“No, thank you,” you say with a quick shake of your head, smoothing your hands along the front of your skirt and then moving to step past him back towards the entrance of the restaurant. “I should go.”
He angles his body in your way before you can.
“No need to leave on my account,” he says, peering down at you. His face is partially in shadow because of how he’s standing, angled between you and the mouth of the alleyway that leads back to the busy street, caught in a small dark patch between the streetlights and the light affixed to the grungy brick wall. He tips his face up and the light touches his features once more, catching in his brown eyes as he waits in anticipation of your response.
“I should get back inside.” It’s strangely difficult to meet his gaze, so instead you look past him towards the street as an unwelcome heat surges up your throat to flood your face. A car passes quickly by the alley, and you watch as the headlights come and go in a flash.
“Why?” the man before you asks, placing the cigarette he’d fished out of the pack to his lips. He uses his teeth to keep it there while he fumbles through his pockets for a lighter. “You’re clearly having a terrible time in there.”
Your eyes snap up to meet his in shock.
“No I’m not,” your reply is notably indignant, even though his accusation is valid.
How would he know anyway?
“The smiley, nice-girl bit’s gotta be getting old, isn’t it? Pouring everyones drinks. Cleaning up everyones messes.” He laughs, though it’s only to himself, before clicking his lighter to life and holding it to the tip of his cigarette until it catches. The cherry burns red and bright on an inhale, and smoke slips from his lips as he adds, “You don’t have to lie to me, I’m not your boss.”
“I’m not lying,” you insist, but your performance isn’t particularly convincing.
Truthfully, the very last thing you wanted to do after a ten-hour work day—capping off a fifty-hour work week—was come out drinking with your colleagues. You’ve never really liked these kinds of gatherings, even if the company is the one footing the bill. They always get a bit too rowdy for your liking. Always drag on a bit too long. And you know that you’ll inevitably be the one stuck forcing your plastered boss into a taxi in the wee hours of the morning, while the rest of your equally-sloshed coworkers find their own ways home.
But the department chair, the very same one you’re sure will be singing karaoke with his tie around his forehead in only a few short hours, had been adamant that everyone in marketing attend the gathering since the sales section was joining in too.
Hence the sales employee standing toe-to-toe with you, blocking your path.
You know Geto Suguru, but only indirectly. The sales and marketing departments are separated by a single floor in your company’s office building, and often work on projects together. Geto is a section lead in sales, with a long, illustrious history behind him before he worked his way up to that role. He’s made a lot of money for the company, and a lot of friends along the way—what with his easy charm, silver tongue, and undeniable good looks. His reputation precedes him—in both good ways and bad.
The fact that he’s here talking to you—a fresh-faced, relatively new-to-role nobody in comparison to his lengthy history with the business—is what you have a hard time wrapping your head around.
“Sure, sure.” Geto waves his hand dismissively, ash fluttering off in tiny specks from the end of his lit cigarette. “I’m sure you just love making all those copies, remembering coffee orders, and running that section lead of yours’s errands too. Oh, and don’t forget when he takes credit for your ideas.”
Your stomach drops.
He keeps going.
“This upcoming brand collaboration is exciting,”—he takes a puff of his cigarette, his eyes sparkling as he looks at you—“too bad no one knows it was you who came up with it, huh?”
Your fists clench tightly at your sides, your lips pressing together in a thin line.
Geto blows the last of the smoke in his lungs from the corner of his pursed lips, away from you.
“That’s the first honest expression I’ve seen on your face all night,” he says with a sly smile tugging at his lips.
Your hands are shaking.
“Why are you doing this?” you ask him weakly.
He tilts his head to the side, like your question confounds him.
“I’m not doing anything,” he says, and he sounds like he genuinely means it. “Have I said anything that isn’t true?”
You bite your lip, staring down at your pretty, professional pumps as you stand on the craggy pavement of the alley.
“You’re allowed to be angry, but don’t direct it at me for pointing out the people who keep screwing you over,” Geto says, and the way his voice sounds a bit nearer and the smell of his cigarette gets stronger tells you that he’s dipped down closer to you even though you don’t watch him do it. “No one’s gonna hand anything to you if you don’t fight for it.”
You glance up at him, your expression and your tone equally flat. “And what if I’m not a fighter?”
“Oh, I don’t believe that,” he says, chuckling a bit as he backs away from you.
You watch him as he watches you—contemplates you, like he’s sizing you up. He drops cigarette suddenly to the ground, still only half-burned, and crushes it with the toe of his shoe. You hold your breath as he takes another step towards you.
He leans forward.
“Hit me.”
“Pardon me?” The bewildered question rushes out of you all in one gasping breath, and you take a loping step back in shock.
“Come on, just one,” the man goads you further, rapping against his jaw with the knuckle of his index finger as a smile twists his lips up at the corners.
“You’re drunk,” you spit out incredulously, shaking your head and quickly moving to step past him.
“I’m not.” He sidles smoothly into your path once more before you get the chance to flee, like he’s half-a-step ahead of you at all times.
It’s infuriating.
“Alright, then you’re just insane,” you offer instead.
You knew the sales department had a reputation for being a bit wild, but this is beyond all your expectations. This is nothing like the charming, easy going Geto that you’ve heard all your female colleague gossiping about in the break room.
His smile falls, and he crosses his arms over his chest. You try not to pay too much attention to the way his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“I’m still your senior, y’know,” he says, and his voice is a little bit colder now. More admonishing.
You’re very acutely aware of that fact without him saying it.
You huff out a frustrated little breath through your nose, crossing your own arms over your chest in a mirror of his stance.
“I’m not hitting you.”
Geto’s brow quirks curiously.
“Why not?”
You can’t believe you’re having this conversation.
“Because that’s assault,” you counter his question shortly.
“It’s only assault if I press charges—which I won’t.” You know he’s telling the truth but it doesn’t make it any more convincing. He tilts his head to the side again, and a silky strand of his dark hair slips into his eyes. “Haven’t you ever hit anyone before? It’s cathartic.”
Your lips part in an expression of astonishment. “Of course I haven’t.”
The man in front of you looks mildly surprised at your answer.
“Do I look like someone who goes around fighting people?” you ask him incredulously.
“You look like you’ve got some repressed rage in you,” he says with a smirk, and the expression only worsens when he sees the way you react to it.
He taps his cheek again before tucking both his hands behind his back and leaning in close to you, like a man offering himself up to the executioner’s block. He shuts his eyes.
“C’mon, just a little one.”
“I won’t.”
“You should.”
“I won’t.”
“How come?”
You take his face in your hands suddenly, tilting it up to meet your gaze.
“Geto-san,” you say quietly, your tone bordering on desperate. “I’m not going to hit you, so please stop asking.”
He opens his eyes slowly, his dark lashes fluttering as he blinks up at you. After a moment he smiles, and his eyes curve into narrow crescents as he leans subtly into your touch.
It’s quiet in the alley, but your heartbeat is quick underneath your skin.
“Can you blame a guy for trying?” he asks you coyly.
You’re still cupping his cheeks in your hands.
They’re warm.
“You really are crazy,” you reply softly to his question, though it’s not much of a reply at all.
He hums, turning his face so his nose drags across your wrist. His lips brush against your palm as he speaks once more. “I’ve been called worse.”
You don’t doubt he’s telling the truth.
Slowly, the dark haired man picks himself up to his usual height. He’s closer to you now than he’s ever been—and thanks to the little cat and mouse game that the two of you have been playing, you’re very nearly pressed against the alley wall. You can’t even see the street anymore beyond the expanse of his wide shoulders.
Everywhere you look, you only see him.
The realization sits hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach.
“I know you’re a good girl, but what are we gonna do about all that stuff you’ve got pent up in there?” Geto lifts his hand and presses a featherlight touch to your sternum over your diaphragm, his fingertips trailing delicately against the smooth plane where the arch of your ribs ends. Your breath hitches painfully as you stare up at him, a sticky knot at the back of your throat preventing you from forming any response—not that you can think of anything to say.
Geto smiles down at you, his expression soft.
You see the faintest flash of sharp teeth behind his pink lips.
“Don’t you want me to help you let it out?”
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Day one
“Hello, hello.”- joe says as he sits down in the conference room
“Hey, Joe!”- reporters
“How was practice?”- reporter 1
“It was good. Threw the ball where I wanted it to go, felt a lot more confident out there.”- joe
“From what we have seen from social media it seems like you have had a great offseason. Your foundation had its second annual golf event, you went to Paris , you wore a backless suit. Would you say you had a great break?”- reporter 2
Joe laughed
“Yes, yes, I had a great time. Got to get out of my comfort zone. Experience new things. It was cool.”- joe
“At your foundation event, I don’t know if you saw the clip, but there was a viral video of you after your mom handed you the mic to give your speech. You said “Thanks mom!” - reporter 2
Everyone laughed
“Would you say your family is very helpful and supportive in your foundation and other projects of yours?”- reporter 2
“Yes, definitely. My parents really help run my foundation. They do food drives, raise money for people in need, and go to different communities to help bring awareness. I’m very grateful for them and wouldn’t have been here without their support.”- joe
“Is it just them that helps support the foundation?”- reporter 1
“Oh, no. We have others who come and help, but…my girlfriend also helps to. She does marketing and helps organize a lot of the events. Very grateful for her support, also wouldn’t be here without her.”- joe smiled
“How long have you and your girlfriend been together for?”- reporter 3
“About 7 years. I met her my first year at LSU.”- joe
Joe laughs
“I actually met her by stopping by her bake sale her sorority was doing. She ended up giving me a piece of pumpkin pie and said it’s on the house. I insisted I should pay, she wouldn’t allow it but I eventually paid and maybe slipped my number on the back.”- joe laughs
“Would you say she’s been a big part of your career in the NFL? Helping and supporting?”- reporter 2
“Definitely. She’s been there since day 1. She came to support me at my first game at LSU and never stopped coming to games since then. She’s my rock. Y/n, has been with me through think and thin. I’m surprised she even is still with me to tell you the truth. It’s hard being in my position and having the public eye on you all the time. Everyone wants to know everything about me and my personal life. It can be a lot. I’m grateful for her. She always shows me that I can do anything I set my mind to, cares for me when I’m injured and probably not the best person to be around. I’m lucky to have someone like her in my life.”-joe
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Everything is Alright pt 10
Soundwave x Reader, some Starscream x Reader- gifts
• You’re not sure what to make of it when Soundwave shows up the next day with another used energon cube, this one full of stuff. He just lets himself in Starscream’s quarters like the space is his, scanning the room until he spots you sitting crosslegged on the desk using Starscream’s data pad to doodle with your fingers. You lift a hand in greeting. Rumbling softly, he sets the cube down on the other side of the desk and begins pulling things out.
• More than a bit curious, you wander closer. His head tips to stare at you, before gently using a single servo to nudge you further from the edge of the desk. Trying not to be annoyed since it had taken forever to convince Starscream that you didn’t need to be left in the cage, you gently swat at his servo without any real heat. There’s nowhere to go and you’re not interested in throwing yourself lemming style off the edge. “I’m not going to fall.”
• Soundwave vents as you slap at his servo, firmly but carefully pushing you to the cube as he reaches in with his free hand to start unloading it. Watches your annoyance with him shift to real interest as he sets down the mattress with its sheets and comforter. Pillows.
• “Did you break into someone’s house or a home goods store?” You ask uneasily as he sets out a bed frame, a dresser for all the clothes you don’t have, and other little odds and ends. With bright yellow sale tags still attached. He’d hit up a store. Likely literally. The image of people running screaming from the giant Decepticon tearing down a wall just to reach inside and take what he wants makes your stomach twist sickeningly. He’s staring at you again, head tilted as if in evaluation.
• Frame lightly shuddering as your chaotic thoughts begin to race, he reaches out to gently tap you on top of your head. And just like that, the anxious tangle of your worry falls away, your head ducking as you try to push his servo away. Distracted from yourself. Satisfied, he gently pushes you toward the things he’s found. Making a show of arranging them on the desk to one side where they’ll be out of the way.
• He’s arranging the furniture so carefully, head tipping to watch your reaction, everything so small it’s almost funny. Like the big mech is playing dolls. Maybe he is, with you as the doll. Trying to understand what they want or expect from you has been pretty pointless. You walk over to lay a hand on the side of his to get his attention. He’s so quiet it’s almost scary, that visor and mask making it impossible to guess what he’s thinking as he looks at you. “Thank you,” you say and he reaches to gently pat you on the head with a single servo in acknowledgment.
• You’re sitting on your new bed when Starscream returns. For a moment he just stares and you think maybe he’s mad, though you’re not really sure why, then his wings just droop. He almost looks guilty? Like he feels bad for not having thought of getting you better stuff. You slip off the bed, moving to the edge of the desk and offer him a smile. “Thank you for asking Soundwave to get me this stuff.” It’s a lie. You both know it, but he still perks up a bit, wings flicking up. Going with it. “But can I have my blanket?”
• “Of course,” he says, servos curling around you. “That enclosure was inadequate.” If there’s a hint of bitter irritation in his voice, you pretend you don’t hear it as he retrieves your blanket from your old cage and drops it unceremoniously on top of your head. His wings lift higher as you gather the blanket up and carry it to your new bed. Sure it smells faintly of chemicals, but it also smells like him. And it’s yours.
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