#but. i don’t want any more hospitals in my dreams. it sucks

[mars-ipan]

i would like for hospital settings to stop showing up in my dreams please

[luveline]

Hi, I’ve never actually sent a request before so hopefully this is okay, but maybe Hotch’s adult daughter calling him dad for the first time when she’s in trouble or hurt which could also open up an opportunity for Hotch to see her mother for the first time since he found out about her

You’re gonna throw your pants in the trash when you get home. The blouse is a loss —getting blood out of champagne material is a pipe dream. But the pants were unscathed until now. 

“Can you look at me?” 

You lift your pounding head. The EMT cups your cheek, her lips quirked into a deep frown as she raises a small flashlight to your eyes. “Just gonna check your pupils again,” she murmurs, shining the light in your eye. 

Each flash has a heated knife of pain slamming into your brain. You moan in pain and tip your head forward, wanting more than anything to lay down. 

“What can I do to make you more comfortable?” the EMT asks. 

“I want to go to the hospital,” you say. Surely they can fix the carving agony behind your face. 

“I know. As soon as the ruckus upstairs is clear, we’re going to take you there.” 

“I don’t want to sit here.” You grimace at the clammy stone under your legs. The subway is not a good place to touch things. 

“It’ll be over soon. There’s a heavy police presence. You’ll be okay.” 

“Got blood on my shirt,” you mumble. 

“I’m sure someone will wash it for you.” 

“My dad,” you say without thinking. 

If you asked, Aaron would wash the blood from your shirt. He could buy you a whole new wardrobe and he would if you let him, but he would just as happily stand at the sink scrubbing away your stains. 

“Ah, Mr. Hotchner,” the EMT says. “I’ve heard about him, I think we all have. He’s a very important man.” 

“He’s just my dad,” you whisper. 

You’re not really talking to her anymore, the thumping pain behind your eyes a wave you can’t get past. It hurts with every breath. When you hold out your hand, the EMT knows without asking that you’re going to throw up. 

She’s more alarmed after that. “Okay, I’m gonna take you upstairs now, okay? I’m sorry there’s no gurney, but we just have to get to the top of the stairs.” 

Each step sucks. You taste blood and vomit alike on your tongue, the daylight is too bright as you ascend the steps, and the EMT isn’t taking enough of your weight. You moan something incomprehensible even to yourself on the second to last step and cover your eyes, aware of the sirens, the roaring crowds, glass shattering at your feet. 

“Shit,” the EMT says. 

You search for your phone blindly, your hand lost in a pocket full of gum wrappers and tissue. “I don’t have my bag... I want my phone. Need to call my dad.” 

“It’s okay,” she says, giving you an encouraging jostle to look out at the clearing sidewalk. “I can see him.” 

Aaron is speed-walking through the crowd. He’s surrounded by people in Kevlar vests, but he himself wears nothing more than his usual suit and tie. His face changes when he sees you from glaring to a strange flitting panic. 

“Are you all right?” he asks, jogging those last few metres to take you by the elbows. “Sweetheart, are you all right?” 

Your eyes are tired. “Somebody hit me,” you say. 

“I know.” His sympathy is warm, his hand smoothing up your arm as he turns on the spot. “Morgan, can we get better access down this street?” 

One of the Kevlar vests doubles back the way they came. You’re trying to make sense of who you’re seeing, and what’s happening, but the confusion since you got hurt is enthusiastic. You can’t make sense of anything but the splitting pain in your head. 

Aaron’s talking five miles a second and ushering you up those last few steps, a gentleness to his touch that’s absent in his barked commands. 

You’ve never heard him shout like that. You can’t help staring at him. 

“This is an attempted insurrection. The aggression is only going to get worse. JJ, see if you can coordinate with metro PD, make sure there aren’t any other injured civilians in the subway. Dave, I need you to run the operation while I go with her.” 

“Aaron,” you say, watching his frown deepen. 

“Reid, you’re with JJ. Prentiss, I want you to find who laid hands on her–”

“Aaron,” you say again, shocked. 

He gives your arm a placating squeeze. 

“They could still be here.” Everything he says is unarguable. He’s suddenly a monolith, and he’s freaking you out, and you’re no closer to being in the back of the ambulance than you had been ten minutes ago. “Have Garcia pull the security footage–”

“Dad,” you say in a short breath, your hand grasping weakly at his arm. 

He falls silent for a moment. The agent you’re unfamiliar with becomes the man who brings you teddy bears at dinner and sends encouraging missives in the morning. 

“What, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asks. Not gentle, but hushed.

“I think I’m gonna be sick again.” 

The EMT passes you a paper bag. 

—

You could hear a pin drop in your hospital room. Your broken nose has its own heartbeat, but that’s a feeling, rather than a sound. Aaron hasn’t spoken in a long time, he just sits there with his hand on your arm, waiting for a cue you don’t give. You’re so embarrassed about calling him dad you’ve decided to never speak to him again. 

His hand occasionally comes to life, giving your arm a soft up and down. 

It’s strange to suddenly have a father, but not bad. His paternal caring is a comfort with all the pain, and it doesn’t feel stilted. With Aaron it never has, he found out you were his and he immediately began to act like it, though you suppose you’ll never know how he would’ve loved you as an adult if he’d known you as a child. This feels genuine. Careful, but genuine. 

“Time to take it off,” he says. 

You meet his eyes. 

“The ice pack,” he explains. 

You drop it onto your leg, and he takes it and sets it on the rollover table instead. 

“You can come and stay with me for a few days,” he suggests quietly.

“I’ll be okay.” 

“Your mom’s working. I can take the time off.”

You give him a dubious look. “And then you’ll get called away and it’ll be just me and Haley in the house. That won’t be awkward at all.” 

He shakes his head. “You’re hurt. You’re gonna feel dizzy for at least another day, and that’s not thinking about how hard it’s gonna be to breathe for a while. I’ll stay home, and you can get familiar with my guest room.” 

“You don’t have to look after me.” 

“But I want to.” He holds your wrist. “I know we aren’t a conventional father and daughter…” His brow furrows, and he looks at your hand just below his rather than your face. “I want the chance to look after you. How many times were you sick as a kid? Hundreds of times. Mostly colds, a runny nose. Maybe you– maybe you broke your arm, I don’t know. But I wish I did. I owe it to you to take care of you now.” 

You give him a small smile as he raises his head. 

“Just think about it,” he says, “we’ll be here all night anyways.” 

“You can go home.” 

“Don’t be difficult,” he says, his sincerity swapped for teasing as he stand. “I have to go find you something to eat.”

He stoops to give you a warm hug across your shoulders. You should want it to be over quickly, you smell like blood and sick and sweat, your clothes are ruined, and you’re not used to him seeing you like this, but let the feeling of his hand on your back persuade you into closing your sore eyes. 

“Okay?” he asks. 

“I’m okay.” 

“Okay. I need to do a lap before your mother gets here anyhow. I might… be more unkind than I plan on being, otherwise.” 

You laugh at his half-joke and hurt your face. He is very sorry. 

[multicohn]

summary: fans don’t like lando’s new girlfriend because how scary and emotionless she looks, but he could care less.

warnings: mention of fans not liking the reader

pairing: fem! reader x lando norris

genre: fluff, short one shot, established relationship

face claim: none

author note: lowkey kinda sucks. i don’t have much motivation to write rn but i wanted to upload something 🥲

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the couple had only been dating for only eight months before lando decided to reveal his girlfriend to the public. y/n had no problem with keeping it a secret since they were both unsure if their relationship would even work given the busy schedules they had, but through a lot of communication they managed to make it work. however, fans weren’t very happy since y/n always looked emotionless or angry on screen and in photos despite lando having a giant smile on his face that could rival all might’s ( my hero academia reference ) when he’s beside her. his fans were very vocal about how they felt about her, but neither of them cared.

the british grand prix was only a few days away and ever since they started dating, lando had dreamed of having her being by his side. however, y/n ( had exams that weekend / couldn’t get time off work ). he tried not to show that he was upset, brushing it off with a simple; "well, there's always next year", but y/n knew him too well and knew how much this race meant to him. any other race would have been understandable, but this was the british grand prix.

when lando arrived on thursday, he was immediately greeted by cameras, microphones, and merchandise being shoved at him from every direction.

"you look a little down, lando. not a fan of the weather?" it was quite cloudy that day and the rain was starting to pick up, but it was far from the reasoning behind his mood

"just didn't get a good sleep"

"oh?"

y/n had gone to bed much earlier than usual, saying she needed all the energy she possibly could for tomorrow. lando inquired about what was so important, but she refused to tell him. he had stayed up last night and wondered about what was happening; was her exam worth much more than he realised? / did her job have a special work thing going on that he doesn't remember?

lando sighed deeply as he made his way inside the hospitality area. his hand itching to grab his phone and text y/n despite knowing that she would be busy.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

y/n had lied.

she knew how much this race in particular meant to lando and she wasn’t going to miss it, but the thought of surprising him made her lie about school / work.

unfortunately, her plan slightly backfired as she was going to surprise lando when he finished his practice session, but the weather delayed everything.

shrugging it off, y/n entered the garage to find her boyfriend dressed in his race suit with a windbreak over top and looked to be dozing off in a chair.

“lando” y/n tapped his shoulder gently as she sat down beside him

“oh, hey baby” he commented while staring at her sleepily

. . .

he suddenly shot out of his chair making those around them jump in fright at the sudden movement.

“y/n?” lando rubbed his eyes. sure that his brain is still asleep and making him hallucinate

“yeah?”

“am i dreaming?” she rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the tv where they were showing fans who were in colourful ponchos or raincoats

she almost laughed at seeing someone’s poncho decorated with george russell’s face.

however, all emotion left y/n's eyes as her face popped up on the screen before it shifted towards lando who was just dazing at her lovingly.

if they were in a cartoon, his eyes would've been hearts.

she heard some people let out “awes” and they started cooing at the couple making the edges of y/n's lips twitch upwards. she turned to her boyfriend and placed a hand on his cheeks before caressing softly.

once they were no longer on screen, y/n leaned forward and kissed her boyfriend gently.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[daisyblog]

Angel Baby

Too Young Masterlist Summary: Louis and YN welcome their second baby, and Arthur becomes a big brother.

warning: childbirth, labour, birth, hospital

9th of September 2024

If Louis was glad he made any decision in life, he was thankful that he decided to come straight home from the festival in Munich. He had managed to sleep for a little bit on the flight home but he couldn’t wait to get into bed next to YN and wake up with Arthur in the morning.

Spotting Harry’s car on the driveway wasn’t unusual because he would often stay with YN and Arthur when Louis was away. Opening the front door, Louis was trying to open the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb anyone.

The dim light that was on in the living room caught Louis eye. But what surprised him was YN and Harry wide awake. YN was sat on the birthing ball and Harry on the edge of the sofa.

“Hey! Is everything alright?”. Louis walked further into the room, walking closer to YN as he placed a peck to her forehead, aware Harry was in the room.

“I’m having contractions but worry pants over here”. YN signaled towards Harry with her thumb. “Thinks I’m about to give birth within the next five minutes the way he’s been frantically phoning everyone”.

“M’sorry for being worried about my sister”. Harry joked as he looked to Louis for some back up.

“To be fair love, Harry was only looking after you”. Louis kneeled down in front of YN as she still sat on the large grey ball. “How painful are they?”.

YN knew he was referring to the contractions, as he gently rubbed his hand over her thigh. “They’re manageable at the moment”.

“Well we’ll keep timing them and let the hospital know when you need to go in”. Louis smiled up at YN who shared the same look. “We’re having a baby!”.

---

Within two hours, the contraction had become quite intense. YN felt her tummy tighten as the pain spread from her bump around to her back.

“Birth scares me”. Harry voiced as he watched his sister cling to Louis. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and her head burned into his shoulder as she breathed through the pain.

“Keep breathing through it babe…you’re doing amazing”. Louis rubbed her back and kissed the side of her head.

As the contraction ended YN sat back up straight as she took a rest in between. Knowing another one could hit her at any point. “I’m sure I said that you could give birth this time”.

Louis chuckled as he remembered the conversation during Arthur’s birth. “You did…but I didn’t think there would be a next time then…and also I don’t have the right body parts”.

“I forgot how painful this was”. YN held onto Louis’ hand as she prepared for the next one.

---

“I can’t do this…I can’t do this”. YN repeated as she sat on the edge of the sofa, Harry now being the victim of the famous hand squeeze.

“You can…you did it once and you’re going to make Arthur so proud when he finds out you’ve given him everything he’s ever wanted”. Harry encouraged, knowing mentioning Arthur would help.

“I can feel another one”. YN tensed up as she anticipated the pain. Her eyes closed tight as she dreamed about when she would have gas and air at the hospital.

Louis appeared with a bottle of water just in time as he cringed at how tight YN was squeezing her brothers hand.

---

Harry stayed at the house to look after Arthur, whilst YN and Louis were at the hospital. Anne was on her way but this was the downside of living so far away from her Mum.

Like she had done many years ago, YN kept the gas and air nozzle securely in her hand sucking on it probably more than she needed to.

“Do you have any children already? Or is this your first?”. The midwife asked as she sat in the room wi the couple.

“We have a little boy, Arthur…he’s nine”. Louis couldn’t hide his smile as he spoke about their son, and showed her a quick photo of him.

The midwife’s eyes widened. “Waw! He’s the image of you…perhaps this one will look like Mummy”.

---

YN was laying on the bed, the nozzle still attached to her hand. Louis was moving the hair out of her face as she now had a layer of sweat covering her forehead.

“YN I’m so sorry my darling…but we’re going to have to break your waters because your contraction are starting to slow down”. The midwife’s voice was full of sympathy, knowing how painful it could be.

With the tool in her hand ready, YN held onto Louis tightly. “You’re so strong and I’m so proud of you”.

The pain was something YN hadn’t felt before. “AHHH!”. She cried out in pain as she felt the water burst from her.

“You were amazing darling…keep sucking that gas and air for me”. The midwife gave an encouraging smile.

---

The contraction become more frequent and YN could not keep still as she moved from different positions. If she was not bouncing on the ball, she was sat in the chair next to the bed. If she was not in the birthing pool, she was clinging onto Louis, hoping it would ease the pressure.

As Louis massaged the bottom of YN’s back, getting a sense of deja vu, he felt her tense up more than she had been.

“Babe? You alright?”. He swallowed thickly, as YN froze.

“I think…I think I can feel the baby”. At the words, the midwife shot up from her seat and quickly glanced under YN’s gown.

“Lie down on the bed for me…baby’s head is crowning”. The midwife moved around the room quickly gathering everything she needed.

YN laid down like she was told, her legs up in the correct position, trying to relax as she was about to meet her baby.

---

“Baby’s head is out…and I think in about three to four pushes, you’re going to be cuddling your little baby”. The midwife spoke from her position at the end of the hospital bed.

Louis quickly glanced down and could see his baby’s head. Seeing his babies be born was something he found breathtaking and he was in absolute awe of YN for doing it.

YN found strength within and began to push. She repeated the action over and over. Louis was by her side as he waited for the sound to fill the room.

And the sound of a newborn cry finally filled the room, as tears ran down Louis and YN’s cheeks when the little one was placed on YN’s chest.

“I’m so proud of you…and I love you so much”. Louis left several kisses on YN’s head before the final one on her lips.

“I couldn’t have done it without you…I love you”. YN’s voice was tired but the adrenaline was pumping through her.

“Mummy and Daddy love you little one”. YN gently kissed the newborns head.

---

YN couldn’t decide who was more excited as Arthur, Harry and her Mum walked through the hospital room door.

Arthur ran straight to his Mum, who was laid underneath a blanket. “I’ve missed you my boy”. She wrapped her arms around him.

“I’ve missed you too Mum…I’ve been nagging Uncle Harry to come and see you”. Arthur held onto his mother for longer.

Harry and Anne hugged YN and congratulated her and Louis on the birth of their baby. The room was full of happiness and smiles as they looked at the little baby in Louis’ arms.

“Hey lad…do you want to have your first big brother cuddle?”. Louis felt his heart melt as Arthur eagerly nodded and ran over to his father’s side.

Arthur sat in the chair, waiting for Louis to place the newborn into his arms. The minute Louis placed the baby into Arthur’s hands, the four adults all shared a loving look, and wiped the tears away from their cheeks.

“Hi baby…I’m Arthur, your big brother”. Louis and YN shared a look as they knew this was the right time to share the news.

“And this is Elsie…your little sister”.

---

ynstyles and louist91

liked by lottietomlinson, annetwist and 1,672,665 others

ynstyles Our babies🤍Welcome to the world Elsie Johannah Tomlinson🩷 View all 10,733 comments

lottietomlinson Our sweet Arthur and Elsie🥹🤍

annetwist My heart could burst❤️I’m one lucky Nanny🩵🩷🩷 ⌞ynstyles The absolute best🥰❤️

the.daisytomlinson I love being an auntie to all these babies❤️

thephoebetomlinson my beautiful nephew and niece🩵🩷Auntie Phee loves you lots xx

gemmastyles We are so lucky❤️Aunties little cuties xx

louisfan5 OMG THE BABY IS HERE!!!

louisfan3 Louis a girl dad🩷🩷🩷

harryfan9 Harry is an uncle to another girl🥹💕

Taglist :@jillsvalentinex @itsmytimetoodream @peterholland04 @youcan-nolonger-run @chronicallybubbly @macy-tpwk @wh0s-nadii @lillisummers

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑠𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

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“Draw two,” Sasaki says. 

“I’ll add another draw two. So now [Name] has to draw four,” Iguchi follows up, throwing another card onto the pile.

You stare at the two cards left in your hand, and then you cast a glance beside you, over to poor Itadori, who’s easily holding more than ten. Part of you wonders if you should be nice and spare him, since he’s clearly suffering more than enough already, but then again, this is Uno. 

Uno is just about as cutthroat as it gets. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, wincing a bit as you add another card onto the pile. “I still have a draw four card left… which means Itadori has to pick up eight cards in total. Also, um, Uno.” 

“No way!” he cries out, and you swear you see his soul leave his body. 

Sasaki throws her head back and starts laughing. “Man, Itadori, you stink at this! I swear you’ve placed last every single time we’ve played. It’s actually kind of impressive how unlucky you can be sometimes.”

“I haven’t lost yet,” Itadori stubbornly refutes, but of course, within the next round, you win, and Sasaki and Iguchi quickly follow suit. 

You watch as Itadori’s shoulders slump in defeat. 

“Fine, now I lost,” he sighs. Most people would probably be pretty frustrated seeing as he’s lost more than four—or is it five games in a row now? In any case, Uno tends to ruin friendships and drive people insane, but since this is Itadori, it only takes a few brief moments of adorable sulking for him to perk up again. “Alright, well, I’m ready for the next round!” 

Iguchi shakes his head. “Sorry, but no more. I’m starting to feel bad about beating you this badly.” 

“Really?” Sasaki blinks. “I’m having the time of my life.” 

“You don’t always have to voice your intrusive thoughts aloud, Sasaki.” 

“We can play more next time,” you say, gently patting Itadori on the shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ll win a bunch then. Enough to make up for all the losses from today.” 

“Doubt it,” Sasaki muses. 

“Sasaki, that’s seriously enough out of you,” Iguchi sighs.

“Alright, fine,” Itadori relents. He quickly glances towards the clock on the wall. “I guess it’s about time for me to head out anyway. It’d be nice to get to the hospital early for a change.” 

More than a week has passed since you first awoke in this world, and during that time, you’ve spent pretty much every day hanging out with Itadori. It’s quite literally a dream come to true to be able to talk to him like this. From the moment you discovered you attended the same school, you were already starstruck, but you figured you would only ever be able to stare at him longingly, from afar. Never in a million years did you imagine that you would actually become his friend. 

Even though your friendship is destined to be cut short, you’re determined to enjoy these blissful moments for as long as you can.

You and Itadori say goodbye to Sasaki and Iguchi, and the two of you walk out of the building together, stopping by a vending machine to grab some canned drinks. You crack your can open and sit down next to him, relishing in the fresh air paired with the cool liquid running down your throat. 

“Visiting your grandpa again, right?” you affirm. 

Itadori takes a big gulp, then nods. “Yeah. Same old, I guess. That’s another reason why it’s nice being part of the Occult Research Club. A lot of people have pestered me to join athletic clubs, but they run way too late. I wouldn’t be able to make it down to the hospital in time for visiting hours. It just works out better this way. Plus, hanging out with those guys is a lot of fun.”

“It’s nice that you always make an effort to visit him,” you say, smiling gently. “I’m sure he really appreciates the time he gets to spend with you. It must mean a lot to him.” 

“Well, I’m the only one he has left, so I’d feel really crappy if he had to spend every day all on his own.”

“Still. Not everyone would make sure to visit every single day, like you do. You’re really kind. You’re a good person, Itadori.” 

You hold your smile as you take another sip of your drink, and you don’t notice that Itadori is staring at you wide-eyed, at least, not until you turn and realize he’s nearly breathing down your neck. 

“Um,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed by how close he is, “y-yes? Is there… something on my face?” 

Itadori scratches his neck. “Uh. This might sound like a bit of a weird request and all, but I was just wondering if… maybe you wanted to come with me today?” 

“Come with you?” 

“Yeah. To visit my gramps. Since we got to talking and all, I figured maybe he’d like to see someone other than me for a change. To be honest, I don’t think he has much longer left. He’s always snapping at me for visiting him, saying I shouldn’t waste my time going to a depressing place like that, and that I should be spending time in clubs with my friends instead. Maybe he’ll feel better if he sees me bring a friend along. He won’t worry that I’m lonely, like he is.” 

You proceed to just stare at him, and although you didn’t intend for your gaze to be unsettling, Itadori lets out a nervous chuckle and quickly shakes his head.

“Aw, man, what am I even saying? Sorry. That was kind of weird. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to waste your free time going to a hospital, of all places. I didn’t mean to try and pressure you into anything. Just forget what I—” 

“I'll go,” you blurt. “If you're sure you want me to come with you, then yes. I'd be happy to meet your grandpa.”

Itadori blinks rapidly, clearly bewildered, but it doesn’t take long for one of those ridiculously cute smiles to spread across his lips. 

“Awesome! Thanks so much, [Name]. That’s really cool of you. I feel like you’re always the one doing me favors, even though it should be the other way around.” 

“It’s not a favor,” you reassure. You pause, smiling shyly. “I really like spending time with you, after all.” 

Itadori’s smile shows no signs of disappearing, and together, you make the trip to Sugisawa Hospital, where his grandfather is currently admitted. 

You have to admit, you feel a little nervous. His grandfather is his only remaining family, and naturally, you want to make a good impression. Even more so because you know that he doesn’t have much time left. You may not be able to stay by Itadori’s side once the canon plot begins, but at least for now, you’d like to put his grandfather at ease. 

“Don’t worry,” Itadori reassures, smiling brightly. “He might seem like a crabby old man at first, but he’s not actually that bad. I know he’ll be happy to see me with a friend.” 

You smile back and quickly nod, and after a moment’s delay, Itadori slides the door open. 

“...you again, Yuji?” a gruff voice immediately barks out. “I thought I told you to quit wasting your time stopping by. Don’t you have anything better to do? What about your school club?” 

Itadori steps into the room first, rolling his eyes as if this kind of reaction is typical, but once you follow behind him and make your presence known, his grandfather’s expression does a full one-eighty. 

“Oh,” he blinks. “Who’s this now? Yuji, don’t tell me… you finally managed to get yourself a girlfriend? Good going, kid. I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

Itadori blushes a bit, but his embarrassment dissolves once he lets out a sigh. “Cool it, old man. Don’t make me regret bringing her. This is [Name]. She’s my friend. You always seem so worried about me not spending enough time with other people, so I invited her to come, and she accepted. Make sure to be nice to her, okay?” 

“It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” you say, bowing your head. “I hope me being here isn’t an inconvenience.” 

“Itadori Wasuke,” his grandfather introduces. You watch as he sits up a bit straighter in his hospital bed. “Hm. Are you sure you’re not dating Yuji? You seem like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’ve got manners, unlike this brat. Hey, Yuji. Don’t be stupid. You don’t want to lose a pretty girl like her to someone else.” 

Itadori rolls his eyes again. “It might be easier said than done, but try to ignore him. Sometimes I think he just says things because he likes hearing the sound of his own voice.” 

“See that?” Wasuke points. “Do you see how this ungrateful grandson of mine treats me?” 

You bite back a chuckle. Naturally, you’ve already gotten a glimpse of what their relationship is like, well before meeting either of them in person. Wasuke may have a sharp tongue, but it’s clear that he loves his grandson, and he wants him to have a good life. He wants him to be surrounded by people who care for him, and even though Itadori will face plenty of hardship in the future, the fact remains that he will have plenty of friends who are willing to stand by his side. 

“Itadori’s a really good guy,” you say, lacing your hands together and smiling. “Everyone likes him. He’s got a lot of other friends besides me. And I know he’ll make countless more friends from here on out.” 

You pause to gauge their reactions. Itadori is blinking at you, perhaps a bit flustered by your sudden declaration, and Wasuke’s expression hasn’t really changed much, but you notice that his eyes are a bit wider than they were a second ago. 

It’s awfully subtle, but for just a brief moment, a smile rises to Wasuke’s lips. 

“Is that so?” he chuckles. “Thank you for saying that, young lady. I’ll admit that it brings me some relief. I’m glad Yuji isn’t just wasting the best years of his life tending to a sickly old man like me. If he’s got friends like you who speak so highly of him… then I guess he must be doing something right.” 

“No way,” Itadori marvels. “Did you just compliment me, gramps?” 

“Don’t get used to it.” 

“Still! You actually said something kind of nice for a change!” 

“Alright, I take back everything I just said.” 

The two of them go back and forth like this for a while longer, and you’re perfectly content to just stand there and watch. It’d be nice if Wasuke could stick around longer. It’d be nice if Itadori didn’t have to lose the only family he has left. But without a doubt, Wasuke will live on in his heart, and you get the feeling that even when he passes, he’ll be watching over him for a long, long time. 

Wasuke clears his throat. “Seriously, though. If you don’t act fast enough, by the time you know it, [Name] will be dating someone else. Don’t live a life filled with regrets, kid.” 

“...gramps, come on.” 

Uh-oh.

You’re not an idiot, so of course, you know what this means. The wooden box he’s referring to is where Sukuna’s finger was being kept. Up until Itadori found it, that is. 

Which can only mean that soon—like, very soon—the main plotline will begin to unfold. 

You nervously chew on your lip. Truth to be told, you want absolutely nothing to do with that stinky finger. You already know that everything will be fine until the Occult Club members remove the seal, but still. The whole thing just freaks you out, and it’s way too scary to even fathom getting involved in. 

While you struggle to come up with a reasonable excuse, your phone buzzes again. 

Balls. He’s just too goddamn cute. It makes it downright impossible to turn him down. 

With a heavy sigh, you text him that you’re on your way, and you eventually get there, unsurprised to see him standing in front of the same storage box that Fushiguro was frantically searching at the start of the series. 

Itadori grins widely. “Thanks for coming! Here, check this out. Have you ever seen something like this before? It looks kind of supernatural, doesn’t it? I bet Sasaki and Iguchi would go crazy over this.”

He proceeds to hold up a small, visibly old wooden box, and you gulp as he opens it up to reveal the cursed object inside—one of Sukuna’s fingers.

Of course, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what it actually is. It’s completely wrapped up in the seal, making the object inside indiscernible. He probably wouldn’t be grinning ear-to-ear if he knew it was some wrinkly old finger. 

…then again, he swallowed said finger without even hesitating, so maybe he wouldn’t actually care that much. 

“Oh, c-cool,” you say, doing your best to mask your discomfort. “Yeah, it definitely gives off that occult vibe. I’m sure the other club members would like it a lot.” 

“I really wonder what it’s even supposed to be, though.” Itadori frowns as he picks up the sealed finger—much to your horror—and leans in closer to get a better look at it. “Yep, I honestly have no idea. You got any theories, [Name]?”

Without warning, he tosses the cursed object towards you, and out of pure reflex, you lurch forward to catch it. 

The second it falls into your hands, you experience a sense of dread that is almost too nauseating to put into words. 

It’s only for a moment, but the scene before your eyes changes. All of a sudden, you feel something wet sloshing around your feet, and you look down to find crimson liquid, red water, or perhaps—blood. 

You try to choke out a few words, but no sound escapes your lips. You’re understandably disoriented, so your gaze then pans upwards, and to say that you’re terror-struck would still have been an understatement. 

Right there, sitting on top of a pile of skeletons, is Sukuna.

It seems as though you’ve lost the ability to speak, but even if you could speak, you doubt you would have been able to find the right words. You’re too overwhelmed with fear to even think clearly, and right before you collapse onto your knees, just shy of a meltdown, Sukuna knits his brows together and leans forward.

“...who are you?”

You snap out of it with a gasp, only to find that you’re still standing in front of Itadori, who has a worried look on his face. 

“[Name]?” he frowns. “What’s wrong? You don’t look so good. Sorry, did I freak you out by tossing that thing at you? I probably shouldn’t have done that. I get why you’d be startled.” 

He crouches down to pick up the cursed object, which you apparently dropped to the ground without even realizing it. You place a hand over your chest, exhaling shakily. Your heart is pounding relentlessly, and you feel dizzy, like you might pass out at any given moment.

Just now… that was Sukuna’s Innate Domain, right? But how is that even possible? He hasn’t even been incarnated through Itadori yet…

You swallow hard. That finger is completely sealed. Even though the seal is old enough to be torn off by even a regular human—like Sasaki, for instance—Sukuna shouldn’t have appeared before you. Or at the very least, you shouldn’t have been able to see him. 

Maybe it was just a strange vision. Maybe the shock induced some kind of hallucination, or something. None of this makes any sense in the first place. The fact that you’ve been transported into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen.

Itadori places the cursed object back inside the box, then tucks it into his pocket. “Sorry again for catching you off guard like that. Are you okay? You look a bit faint. That was my bad. You even mentioned before that you don’t really like scary stuff, so I should have thought twice before doing that.” 

“I’m okay,” you reassure, and it’s true. You feel perfectly fine now. That sensation of choking up and being overcome with fear is already a thing of the past. It seems more and more likely that it was probably all in your head. 

Yeah.

You must have just been imagining things. 

“Kokkuri, Kokkuri, please tell us… which creature is the school council president weaker than?!” 

Ah. So, it’s finally starting. 

The question is all too familiar, of course, and as you allow the coin to be guided around the board, the word formed is exactly what you expected. 

“What? A fish?” everyone laughs in response, and just like in the canon series, the door abruptly slides open, revealing none other than the student council president himself. 

He starts berating everyone in the room, of course, but you're not really paying attention. 

Instead, you gaze at Itadori with a wistful smile, realizing that after today, you will no longer be part of his life.

There's no place for you by his side. It's simply too dangerous, and even if you were strong enough, you can't risk upsetting the delicate balance of this world. Everything will unfold the way it's supposed to, which means that your role here, albeit small as it was, is over. 

…or is it?

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🔮 main masterlist! ♡ oneshot masterlist

[storm-angel989]

Is it okay if it is a one shot instead? I don't want to force you to do anythinggg 😭😭😭 it's my own preference!!

Hi There!

I will DEFINITELY do one shots when requested! They’re so much fun to write about, and honestly this is one of my favorite things to write about.  I think to keep it organized from the “Outside The Office” series I’ll respond directly to the request with the story attached and add that to the master list.  

You asked specifically for Val or Vox x reader and their little girl, so I tried to give both Val and Vox their time to shine in respective, responsible, parental roles. If you want a specific Vox x reader and their little girl or a specific situation for Val x Reader and their little girl, let me know! There are SO MANY to choose from but this is the first one that came to mind! 

As always, enjoy! Feedback is always, always appreciated and valued! 

“Princessa, hold still.” Valentino grumbled to the squirming toddler. His hands moved as quickly as they could, weaving her blonde hair into braids. “Princessa, stop, I don’t want to pull your hair.”

She let out a shriek and Valentino quickly wrapped the end of the braid in a soft pink hair tie before he scooped her up into his arms and rocked her gently, tucking her against him. “Shush, princessa, daddy is here.” 

Never did Valentino ever think he would be calling himself daddy in the most appropriate context of the word. 

She quieted quickly and snuggled into him. Valentino smoothed back her hair and pressed his lips to her forehead. Cooler than she was an hour ago. But not quite broke of her fever yet. Definitely due for her next dose of medicine. 

She stuck her thumb in her mouth and sucked vigorously- a habit he despised with every fiber of his being. Honestly, he’d rather let her just have the pacifier but his wife was insistent that she break the habit. It wasn’t good for her teeth, she said. 

He guessed she would know more about it than he did. She read more books on the subject than he had, and he had read quite a few himself as he tried to teach himself how to be the father he had never had. Truth be told, when his wife first found out she was pregnant, he was both ecstatic and terrified. A baby of his own- of their own. What if he fucked it up? What if something went wrong and he lost them both in the process? But the first three years of his little girl's life proved to be the opposite- he loved her with every fiber of his being. 

The flutter of the kicks during the first nine months of her life. Listening to her heartbeat for the first time. Watching the love of his life, his reader bring her into the world, and the first time he held her in his arms- she was so tiny he was afraid of hurting her. 

He remembered sitting in the hospital room, holding her as his wife slept, when the nurse came in and suggested that he take his shirt off and doing skin to skin contact with the baby.

“That’s a mom thing, I’m not her mom, I’m her dad,” he protested as loudly as he dared, so as to not wake the sleeping infant. 

The nurse said it didn’t matter. The process would help her regulate her temperature and her heart rate- it was biology. Beneficial to them both. Reluctantly, he handed her off his baby and unbuttoned his shirt. The nurse handed her back to him and guided him to hold her against his chest, over his heart, and covered her with the smallest pink blanket. 

“There you go Dad, just like that,” she told him.

Dad. No one had ever called him that before. At least, not in the true sense of the word. 

Overnight, the top floor of the V tower he and his wife shared with Vox and Velvette had turned into a hybrid of ruthless overlords and a little kid's dream house. Neither aunt nor uncle spared any expense the moment they found out he and his wife were expecting a little girl, and Velvette herself had designed her pink princess themed room that his daughter called her own.

Not that she slept there. For a while, she was in a bassinet. And then a crib. And as soon as she was mobile she crawled into her parents bed and that was it. She slept between them, and more than once he and reader were grateful they had a big bed. For such a tiny kid, she sure took up space. They would have to break that habit he swore he would never develop, but according to the books he read- it really was okay, at least, for the time being. 

“Dada,” she muttered. “Don’t feel good.” 

He snapped his attention back to her.  “I know babygirl. Come on, Daddy’s going to make you feel better.” He lifted her up and carried her into the kitchen.  

One of the only benefits of being home with a sick toddler was simply that he didn’t have to go into work today- he could stay at home with his little girl. Normally his wife would be the one who handled all the care, but today was day two of his sweetheart’s sickness, and his wife was spent. And so, he put her to bed and the last time he checked, she was fast asleep. 

And now as he filled the plastic syringe with a mix of bubblegum pink medication and juice, he half heartedly regretted that decision. 

“No!” She screamed when she saw the dropper. “No! No! NO!” 

No. It was her favorite word, one he was both proud and unhappy that she knew. Honestly, he couldn’t blame her for her refusal. He had tasted the sticky liquid himself out of curiosity and immediately regretted the decision. In all of hell’s amazing medical advances, could’t they make something that tasted good? 

“Dollface, I know,” he said to her tiredly. “Look, I’ll make you a deal. You take this, and I’ll take you down to see Uncle Voxxy and his sharks, okay?” 

That perked her up. 

“Sha ka. Now.” She demanded. 

He held up the medicine dropper. “Medicine first. Then sharks.”

“Sha ka!” She demanded. 

“Then open up,” he replied, taking her chin in his hand. “All of it goes into your tummy. Then sharks.” 

She gave him a look of disdain that inwardly made him wince, but she opened her mouth. Honestly, he feared what her teenage years would look like if she was this defiant at three. He stuck the syringe in her mouth and slowly pressed down on the plunger. 

“Swallow it. All of it.” He reminded her. “The sooner it goes from your mouth to your tummy, the sooner you can have juice.” 

To his relief, she swallowed it and he handed her a bottle of juice. Also probably not the best parenting decision, letting her be on a bottle this long, but the pacifier battle was enough of a fight. Even with Vox and Velvette’s help, they had to pick and choose their battles. 

“Sha ka.” She demanded, reaching for him to pick her back up. 

Valentino sighed but lifted her into his arms. She snuggled into his neck and that feeling of love, of protectiveness washed over him. He held her a little bit tighter as he carried her towards the elevator, pausing only to grab the diaper bag at the entryway. 

Love. It was his field of expertise. But nothing, not even the day he married his wife, could compare to the type of love he felt the first time he held his daughter in his arms. It was different than anything he had ever felt- pure and protective. That feeling had never gone away, even on the roughest of nights, when his wife struggled to stay awake every few hours, struggling to feed this tiny little creature that now depended on them for her every need. Of taking turns holding her until she granted them both the mercy of sleep. 

“Sha ka!” She screeched as he stepped into Vox’s office. She struggled in his arms and Valentino set her down. 

“Aw, how’s my little peanut? Come to Uncle Voxxy!” Vox turned around in his chair. 

Valentino watched as she took off to him and jumped into his arms. For the overlord of technology, he turned into mush around the little girl. And she felt the same way about him, that much was obvious. 

“Yeah, you wanna see the sharkies? Come on, we’ll go see the sharkies!”  Vox lifted her up and looked at Valentino. “You look like shi- fuck. Crap. I mean, you look like you need a shower.” 

“Swear jar. Three quarters. No exception.” Valentino half joked. 

The first time his daughter called her stuffed animal a word no toddler should say, Velvette in all her genius introduced the swear jar. The rest of them resisted at first, but it wasn’t like they couldn’t afford it.  Vox struggled the most with the no cursing rule around the kid rule and as a result, she had enough in her piggy bank to buy herself a new car if she wanted. Sometimes, Valentino wondered if he did it on purpose. After all, she could spend the money however she chose and Valentino had a feeling that it would be spent at the toy store the next time he and his wife went out of town. 

Or he would just buy her whatever she wanted and let her keep it. The word spoiled didn’t exist in his vocabulary. At least, not when it came to her. 

“I mean it Val, let me take her for a bit. Go get cleaned up. Maybe lay down for a few minutes. I got the baby, yes I do, yes I do!” 

He looked down at himself. Black tee shirt, and yesterday's sweatpants. Probably baby vomit from when she got sick earlier. But a shower sounded like a fantastic idea- a dream, really. 

“She puked earlier, and she’s still running a fever. You sure you want that?” Valentino warned doubtfully as he handed Vox the diaper bag. 

Vox shrugged. “Push comes to shove I’ll bring her upstairs and get her changed. Not a big deal.” 

Valentino watched her snuggle into him and her bottle fell to the floor as her thumb went right back into her mouth, leaving baby drool and Lucifer knew what else all over his shirt. He bent down and picked it up, handing it to Vox. 

“You don’t want to help with bath time tonight, do you?” Valentino asked hopefully. 

Vox laughed. “Ha! Not on your life! I know what a little terror this princess is with water, yes I do! Yes I do!”

She let out a cross between a giggle and a shriek as he lightly tickled her. 

“Go, Val. Shoo. We’re fine, I promise.” Vox reiterated as he turned back towards his desk. “Say bye bye to Daddy, babygirl, we’re going to go see sharks!” 

“Sha ka!” she shrieked. “Uncie Voxxy! Sha ka!” 

“Alright. Princessa, be good for Uncle Voxxy okay?” He kissed her forehead. Cooler, but not as cool as she was earlier. He turned and walked out the door to the sound of Vox cooing to her. 

He walked back up the stairs and took as quick of a shower as he could, hoping he didn’t disturb his sleeping love. To his relief, reader didn’t move from where she lay, fast asleep. A pang of guilt. Being a full time mom was no joke, and he wished he could help her more. But hell would freeze over before he allowed his little girl in the studio- it was bad enough reader came in from time to time. He hated his wife seeing him in that role. 

He pulled on clean clothes- jeans and a black shirt and bent over, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Was it him, or did she feel warm too? She blinked, and let out a tired yawn as she looked up at him. He saw the panic in her eyes. 

 “What time is Val? Where is the baby?” she asked, swinging herself out of bed. 

“Baby is with Vox, go back to sleep my love,” he said soothingly as he caught her before she could stand up.  “You need to rest.” He carefully looked at the watch on her wrist and opened the synched app on his phone. She was running a temperature too. Son of a bitch. “Do you feel okay?” 

He listened to her as she inhaled and broke out into a coughing fit that sounded similar to what the kid had come down with. She shook her head no.

 Double fuck. 

“Honey, I’m going to bring you some medication and a drink. Do you want water or juice?” he asked. 

“Water is fine.” She buried her face in her hands, only looking up when he brought both over to “I need a shower.”

“You’re free to do whatever you want, my love. I’ve got the baby.” He smoothed back her hair as she swallowed the drugs. “You rest, I need you to feel better too.” He pulled her to his chest and kissed the top of her head. “I can only do this by myself for so long. I need you back to full force, and that means lots of rest for you.”

She broke into a laugh that turned into a coughing fit. “That’s going to mean less sleep for you.”

“I’ll manage.” He wrapped his arms around her and cradled her head to his chest for a moment. “Go shower, love. I’m going to free Vox from her grasp.”

She nodded and he stood up. He waited outside the door for a few minutes until he heard the water running. Only then did he make his way back down the stairs.

“Princessa? Vox?” He called as he walked into the studio. 

Vox turned around in his chair and shook his head, pressing a finger to his lips. Even from a distance, Valentino could see her tucked against Vox, his sleeves rolled up and his jacket covered her like a blanket. The drool stains on his shoulder were larger now, and was he wearing a different shirt? 

 “Shush, you’ll wake the baby,” Vox said softly as he carefully stood up and adjusted her against him.  

She snuggled into his neck and started to fuss. Vox carefully handed her back to Valentino, ensuring she stayed wrapped up in his jacket. 

“Hey baby, Daddy is here,” Valentino said quietly as he adjusted her in his arms. “Thanks, Vox.”

“Don’t mention it. That kid will rule the world someday, mark my words. I’ll see you after work tonight, happy to watch her for a few hours so you can get some rest too.” Vox handed him back the diaper bag. “She did puke by the way. Bright pink medicine, all over my shirt- totally wrecked it. Thank god you keep an extra tee shirt in the diaper bag, and I keep a spare set of my own in the office. I cleaned her up the best I could. But she fell asleep right after and I didn’t want to move her any more than I had to.” 

God, there were definitely some parts of being a parent that were completely gross, even for Valentino. 

She was fast asleep by the time Valentino carried her back upstairs. He pressed his lips to her forehead and was relieved to find she wasn’t burning up. A cool washcloth should help. He checked in on his wife, and seeing her fast asleep, made his way to the living room and laid down on the couch. It was a risk to lay the cloth on her neck but thankfully she didn’t stir. 

As he laid on the couch with her in his arms, he wondered how he would get through the next few days, and hoped that whatever sickness took both his girls down stayed far, far away from him. He needed to take care of them, after all. 

[shintin]

The Wacky Widow's Woes

↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Comedy one-shot

Summary: In a twist of fate, the most obnoxious person on Earth, Gojo Satoru, appeared by your hospital bed. Clearly, the universe had a wicked sense of humor.

Word count: 5k.

Genre: comedy, fluff, yapping (Jujutsu Kaisen au).

Warnings/Tags: humor, no angst, whipped Satoru Gojo, bitchy reader, a lot of jokes about chapter 236 of the JJK manga (my personal healing process), mention of Kitkat, prepare for Gojo's nauseating love for his wife, who's probably sick of him.

Notes: I hope you laugh your ass off while reading this.

You can read my fics on AO3. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK.

On a very, very, very dull autumn afternoon, we find ourselves in a hospital room where its fancy ass curtains are just letting in enough sunlight to cast a gloomy, eerie glow.

There, on the bed, lies a woman who seems to have become one with the medical equipment—or, better to say, a high-tech octopus. Wires and tubes sprout from her body like overgrown vines, connecting her to an orchestra of beeping machines. It's like a twisted version of a modern art installation, where chaos and order collide in a symphony of medical mayhem.

The woman, blissfully oblivious to the cacophony surrounding her, snores away, blissfully lost in dreamland. It's almost comical how she manages to find solace amidst the tangled wires and the chorus of beeps. One might wonder if she's dreaming of a magical place where the cables turn into candy canes and the machines play cheerful tunes instead of somber heartbeats.

The lighting in the room sucks, perhaps to match the mood or new architectural ambiance design. For fuck's sake, who knows! Shadows dance across the walls, conspiring with the flickering fluorescent lights to create an atmosphere that's equal parts unsettling and strangely fascinating.

As if to bring a touch of irony to the scene, a sad excuse for a vase sits on a nearby table, barely holding onto life. Its wilted flowers, once vibrant and alive, now resemble a bouquet of autumn hues gone horribly wrong. It's a symbolic reminder that beauty is fleeting, just like the woman's health, and that even in the darkness, there's a twisted kind of beauty to be found.

The room carries the unmistakable scent of sterile cleanliness, mingled with a hint of despair. It's the kind of smell that makes you want to open a window and let in some fresh air (read jump out), but alas, in this hospital room, fresh air seems like a distant memory.

Well, hold on to your hospital gown because here's a plot twist for you! Picture this: you've been envisioning this serene hospital room, reading it in all its autumnal glory, and guess what? The woman lying on that bed, surrounded by beeping machines and tubes, is none other than... drumroll... you!

Yep, you're the star of the show, ready to wake up and face your second stroke. But hey, don't worry, it's not going to be as boring as your room décor. No, no, life has decided to throw you a curveball and add a dash of excitement to your hospital stay. Who needs a peaceful recovery when you can have a stroke sequel, right?

So get ready to jolt awake and embrace the chaos! Remember, even in between unexpected events, a good sense of humor can be the best medicine. Laughter might not cure your condition, but it can certainly make the hospital experience a little more bearable. So, chin up, brave stroke survivor! Your story is about to take an exciting turn!

Well, well, well.

As you wake up from your beauty sleep, feeling as if you've been smooching a cactus all night, the machines around you decide to unleash their inner DJs with a symphony of beeps. How thoughtful of them to create an auditory masterpiece that grates on your nerves like a tone-deaf choir. Ah, music to your ears, right?

But fear not, the brave warrior of hydration! You are on a noble quest to conquer the desert that has taken residence in your mouth. Summoning every ounce of strength (and probably some residual grumpiness), you muster the strength to ascend from your pillow fortress. With your hand gracefully reaching out for that tempting glass of water, victory feels within reach.

Your hand hovers mid-air as if suspended by an invisible force, frozen in a moment of pure disbelief. Just when you think the universe couldn't possibly play a more mischievous trick on you, there he was—sitting on the couch like he owns the place—the one person you would rather avoid more than a clown with a pie in hand. Seriously, is this some cosmic prank show?

Your eyes widen in disbelief, your heart skips a beat, and you can't help but let out a little groan. It's like the universe is trying to test your resilience, throwing you into this hilariously uncomfortable situation. Oh, the irony!

You: Hell no! What the fuck are you doing here?

Right in front of your very eyes sits the epitome of style and charm—a man sporting a white shirt and black pants combo that would weaken fashion gurus at the knees. No sunglasses dare cross the path of this confident fellow, for his piercing ocean-blue eyes need no protection from the sun's feeble attempts to outshine them.

But wait, there's more! Let's not forget about his head adorned with fluffy white hair that could rival the fluffiest clouds. Ugh!

Satoru: Hello to you too, love!

He strikes a pose that screams, "I'm the king of this couch!" With one leg casually crossed over the other and his arms spread wide on the back of the couch, he's claiming his throne in the most nonchalant and hilarious way possible.

Satoru: Is this how you greet your beloved husband?

You: Fuck off!

With the speed of a ninja on a caffeine high, you swiftly pull the blanket up to your chest, fully aware that the hospital gowns offer about as much coverage as a single sheet of tissue paper. Yes, those flimsy garments are the Victoria's Secret of the medical world—barely there and leaving little to the imagination! And just when you thought the situation couldn't get any more entertaining, you catch a glimpse of his famous smile. Asshole! Is he peeping on you?

Satoru: Aha! The feisty spirit lives on! Missed your sassy attitude.

He grins like a mischievous little rascal who just stumbled upon a secret stash of dad jokes, except it's a porn website!

Satoru: And, of course, your perked-up nipples!

Summoning your inner grumpy penguin, you dramatically cross your arms over your chest, shooting him a glare that could make a grizzly bear retreat in fear.

You: well, Mr. White-Haired Head with a stinky smirk and eyes bluer than a bottle of Windex, I didn't miss you AT ALL!

Satoru: Why, oh why, did you dye your hair white if you claim not to miss me, baby? Is it some secret signal to the hair gods that you're ready to experience the adventure of life without my captivating presence? Or perhaps it's your way of channeling the wisdom of Gandalf and Dumbledore, hoping that your newly snowy locks will grant you magical powers to forget all about me?

You: Hold your horses, chatterbox! My hair has turned snowy white without any meddling from me. No, I didn't secretly sprinkle it with magic hair dye while cackling like a mischievous sorcerer, you idiot!

Satoru: Whoopsie daisy! You've got a point there. Did I accidentally step on your delicate feelings, wise and experienced grandma?

In a grand display of determination, you muster every ounce of strength to grab the pillow behind your back, preparing to launch it at him. Alas, it seems the strength of a thousand paperclips has possessed your hands, rendering them feeble and incapable of fulfilling your pillow-throwing dreams. The valiant effort leaves you gasping for air as if you have just completed a marathon of pillow-tossing.

Satoru: Yowai mo!

He erupts into laughter, showcasing his undeniable talent as a professional tease.

You: Cut the crapola! Spill the beans! What on earth has brought you to this neck of the woods?

With your firm tone that could rival a drill sergeant's, the machine begins beeping faster than a sugar-rushed hummingbird on roller skates. It's as if the beeps are making their best impression of a hyperactive jazz band, matching the frantic tempo of your skyrocketing heart rates.

Satoru: I'll be rolling on the floor in laughter if you drop dead from the sheer intensity of your anger, Granny. Let's be real; finding inner peace is way more beneficial for you in the long run. Just saying!

You: Satoru!

Satoru: Yep, that's me. Breaking hearts and taking names. Can't a poor soul like me simply pay a visit to my dear wife on her deathbed?

You: Hell to the no! You can't just waltz in our life whenever you please! Sorry, but you lost that VIP visiting privilege when you—

Satoru: Oh, and on that note, could that charming chick who graced you with her presence earlier be our beloved daughter?

You sigh, exasperated, and gently rub your forehead as if trying to coax that headache into submission. Ah, the joys of a headache that seems set on conquering you before any actual sickness does. With a dramatic sweep of your hand across your face, you channel your inner drama queen and then grab your neck.

You: Oh, please, for the love of all that is awkward, just tell me that you didn't try to work your "smooth moves" on her.

Satoru: I was this close to making a move, you know? She's like a spitting image of when I was head over heels for you! It's like you've managed to clone yourself or something. Should I be worried? Did you secretly stash away all my precious genes and hoard them for your own amusement? Well, I guess I can't blame you for wanting to keep all those sperms to yourself! But seriously, she doesn't look like me at all. I am hurt!

He pouts like a baby, forever stuck in his eternal state of immaturity, but you aren't about to let that deter you. With an air of defiance, you casually lean against the hospital bed board, gazing intently at the serum making its grand entrance into your veins. Oh, and that obnoxious machine chiming away? You can't help but wish it could just shut up.

You: It's actually better for her, you know. At least she doesn't have anything that serves as a constant reminder of her absent father, who couldn't even be bothered to be present during her birth!

Your words are like a sarcasm waterfall, cascading with vicious wit. You've mastered the art of tongue-in-cheek remarks, and while you're fully aware of their potency, you couldn't care less. It's like you've got a license to sass, and you're not afraid to use it, even if it makes the world say, "Well, ain't you a delightful ray of sunshine!"

Satoru: Let's not paint the picture as if I had some glamorous options! Nope, I was bestowed with the honor of being the designated problem-solver, the one expected to handle it all while gracefully tiptoeing through—

You: Oh, pretty please! If it's not too much trouble, continue your reign as the honored one through heaven and earth, while sparing me from any additional bouts of annoyance. I must say, it's quite the talent you possess—being both honored and a master of irritation. Quite the balancing act, I must admit!

As you clench the blanket in desperation, that rebellious needle gleefully plunges itself into your hand. Fuck unexpected pain! And there, decorating your arm like a chilling masterpiece, are the bruises—trophy marks from your encounters with the needle army. Who knew injections could become an avant-garde art form? With tears welling up and the air growing thinner, it feels like the room is leaving you gasping for breath just to have a twisted sort of fun. Bravo, universe, for your fucked up sense of humor! A standing ovation for this macabre spectacle.

Satoru: Love?

You: …

Satoru: Baby?

You: …

Satoru: My Wondrous Whipped Cream Warrior, the Caramel Crusader, the Sprinkle Spritzer, the Marshmallow Maestro, the Treat Tornado, the Sugar Rush Superstar, the Jelly-filled Joy Bringer, and the Sweetness Sorceress who turns my world into a Never-ending Dessert Buffet! The Honeyed Pussy of—

You: WHAT? WHAT DO YOU WANT, SATORU?

You are wheezing like a chain-smoking asthmatic, desperately gasping for air, and his attitude is about as helpful as a wet matchstick. You and the mysteries of poor life choices! What possessed you, in that twisted moment of madness, to willingly plunge into the depths of infatuation with him? It's a dark, twisted enigma that not even the Grim Reaper could decipher.

Satoru: Are you still mad?

As you tilt your head, there he is, looking at you with those big, blue eyes, like a lost poppy desperately trying to win the "Most Heart-Melting Flower" award. What a sneaky trickster! He knows exactly what he is doing, employing his secret weapon of irresistible gazes, and darn it; it works like a charm! You can't resist the powers of those eyes, and you reluctantly surrender, cursing his effective tactics while secretly admiring his diabolical brilliance. Well played, Mr. Blue-Eyed Mother Fucker, well played.

You: I never stopped being mad at you!

Satoru: Fair, but you have to know that—

You: Spare me the creative excuses, please! You pulled off the greatest magic trick of all—knocking me up—and then poof! You disappeared into thin air, leaving me with a growing belly and a bewildered expression. Good job, Houdini!

Satoru: You're welcome, baby. But you've got to cut me some slack here! My job description practically has "Accident Enthusiast" written all over it. It's not like I wake up in the morning, rubbing my hands together, thinking, "Oh boy, I can't wait for another mishap!" So, let's blame it on my occupational hazard, shall we?

You: Oh, well, then, thank you so much for gracing us with your presence again! You chose to go down that path because, of course, you believed you were the one and only capable being in the universe. And oh, how lucky we are that you decided to leave me and our daughter behind. It's truly heartwarming to see you saunter back into our lives after years like it's just another casual stroll in the park. I mean, who needs a father figure during precious moments like birth, first words, and first steps, right? Clearly, you had more important things to attend to. Our daughter has grown up and gone through school, and I've had the pleasure of explaining why her dad couldn't be bothered to pick her up like those "normal" dads. Graduation, dating, first job—she did it all without you, and we couldn't be more grateful for your consistent absence. Now you have the audacity to—

You start coughing, and each painful gasp feels like your lungs are being ruthlessly ripped apart, leaving behind crimson stains on your once immaculate sheets and hands. And there he stands, towering tall, as handsome as the day he first stole your heart. It's just not fair that he still looks so good while sickness has mercilessly drained the life from your weary soul. He approaches you, the lingering scent of vanilla clinging to him, a bittersweet reminder of what you once cherished but now resentfully long for.

Satoru: Take a sip of water. Do you want me to help you?

Oh, he's all worried now, isn't he? But honestly, after enduring all that post-him misery, you're not about to let him off the hook just because he's offering a glass of water. Come on, you might be a little dumb, but you're not "drink-water-and-forget-all-the-pain" dumb! Nice try, buddy, but you'll need more than H2O to wash away the mess you left behind.

You: I DON'T NEED YOUR GODDAMN HELP! How about you kindly take a flying leap back to wherever you've been hiding all this time? I'm sure you've perfected your disappearing act by now. And don't forget to leave behind a trail of glittering resentment as you go, just to keep things spicy. Ta-ta, farewell, and may you step on a thousand Lego bricks on your way out!

Satoru: Listen up, partner in crime! I've had enough of leaving you to your own devices. It's been tough for me, too, and I sincerely apologize for piling on the hardship. But I learned my lesson! Starting right this very moment, I'm making a solemn vow never to ditch you again. Consider me your loyal sidekick, ready to tackle life's challenges together, even if it means enduring endless reruns of your favorite TV show or subjecting myself to your cooking experiments. We're in this for the long haul, love!

You use the sleeve of your flimsy, ridiculous gown to clumsily wipe away the blood from your mouth, all the while shooting him a perplexed look. Seriously, how on earth does he still manage to gaze at you with those doe eyes, all lovey-dovey, when you're rocking the vampire-on-a-sunlit-day aesthetic?

You: So, you decided to grace me with your presence just because I'm sick?

Satoru: Yes.

You: I see how it is! You're not here because you missed me, huh?

Satoru: Uh-oh, am I about to witness another round of your infamous anger? But hey, before you explode like a volcano, let me enlighten you that I didn't write the rulebook on how things work. Nope, not my area of expertise. Turns out, the universe didn't consult me when setting up the whole system. It seems they left me out of the committee meeting where they decided the rules of life. Classic!

You: Does it hurt?

Satoru: It hurt me badly because I snapped in half like a Kit-Kat bar. And no, there wasn't a delicious wafer filling in between, just pure pain and emotional wreckage.

You: Come on, Satoru! This is not the time for your quirky sense of humor. I mean, seriously, I saw your guts out in the open, and to top it off, ants decided to take a leisurely hike on them.

Satoru: TV producers really went all out with the graphic details, huh? Sure, I appreciate high-definition viewing, but did they need a close-up of my stuff? Talk about taking reality TV to a whole new level! I hope they provided a warning. Note to self: avoid snacking while watching shows that involve anatomical explorations!

You: SATORU!

Satoru: Alright, alright, no need to get serious! Can't a man crack a joke about his own death around here? Fine, I'll hold your hand during the whole thing. You know, I once spouted that cliché line about dying alone, but let's face it, that was a load of nonsense. Nobody goes down that final road solo. It's like a grand exit party!

You: Oh, really? So, you had some company, huh? Well, you know what they say: ignorance is bliss. I don't need the details, and my imagination can take a wild ride all on its own

Satoru: Jealousy looks good on you, love.

As he bends closer, his breath tickles your lips, making you wonder if he had onions for lunch. With a dramatic flourish, he grabs your chin as if auditioning for a cheesy romance movie. And then, like a vacuum cleaner on turbo mode, he plants a kiss that sucks the air right out of your lungs. It's like indulging in a dessert buffet filled with marshmallows, caramel, and insulin shots. Who needs a thrill ride at an amusement park when you can experience a sugar rush of epic proportions? You may be risking diabetes, but hey, at least you'll be leaving this world with a sweet tooth satisfied and an unforgettable, albeit comical, memory of that last smooch.

Unfortunately, after what feels like a fleeting eternity, he decides to break the kiss. As your eyes meet, you can't help but sneak a glance downwards, wondering if his pants harbored any surprises. Alas, it appears that either he's a master of disguise or ghosts have taught him their spectacular talent for concealment. Sneaky whores!

Satoru: Are you ready to go?

Oh, snap! Once the horniness fades away, reality hits you like a ton of bricks. Holy shit! How did you manage to forget about your daughter? Leaving her behind is definitely not the best parenting move. Time to snap back into responsible mode and give that little one the attention she deserves. Parenthood: where forgetfulness meets a reality check!

You: Will she be okay?

Satoru: She's our little munchkin. She'll be alright.

You: I want to see her for the last time.

Satoru: You can see her whenever you want.

You: WHAT?

He scratches his head, messing up his undercut, desperately trying to dodge eye contact like a game of social hide-and-seek.

Satoru: Ops! Did I just spill the beans on one of the perks of the afterlife? My bad! My master plan was to witness that priceless guilty expression on your face when we reached the pearly gates. Imagine your shock when you realized you blamed me for no reason, only to discover I had a front-row seat to all your shenanigans during all those years! Oh, the things I've seen! I know how many times you've touched yourself thinking about me! No judging, though! And yes, I know you secretly fumed when our little bundle of joy uttered "Dada" before "Mama." Don't worry, I won't tell a soul... except, you know, all the other souls up there. It's the ultimate celestial gossip!

You: WHAT? YOU KNOW EVERYTHING? THEN WHY THE FUCK YOU ASKED IF SHE'S OUR DAUGHTER?

Satoru: First, just to tickle your pickle. Second, as I cunningly planned.

You: You're still a brat!

Satoru: And you're still as beautiful as the day I lost you.

You: Smooth words, my friend, but let's not kid ourselves. I won't buy into any deceit. I'm old, wrinkled, and sick. Time and disease are killing me, just as you hated. Meanwhile, you continue to flaunt that glorious chiseled chest and those rock-hard butt cheeks.

Satoru: Thank you, ma'am, for keeping my ass in your thoughts. Speaking of which, I must confess I've made some boneheaded decisions along the way. Opting for death in the name of someone else can seem like a breeze compared to the complexity of choosing to live for them. So, kudos to you for being the badass who faced life's challenges to honor my memory.

You: I hope this is not just a dream.

Satoru: We can give it a try and see for ourselves.

As Satoru reaches out his hand, something extraordinary unfolds—the machine starts beeping. You look at the device, noticing that the time between beeps gradually increases. But then, your gaze shifts to your cherished spouse, the man whose absence has left an indelible void within you. The man with whom you would have fearlessly confronted doomsday on that fateful December 24th in 2018, had it not been for the fact that you were carrying his last trace of existence, a precious legacy nestled within your very being.

You: You feel so warm.

Satoru: Some things never change.

His hand gracefully slides towards your waist, triggering a chain reaction of chaos. Those pesky wires and tubes that were so dutifully attached to you? Well, they decide it's time for a break and go on a wild unplugging spree. It's like a rebellious dance party of freedom for those little connectors! And just when you thought things couldn't get any more exciting, your feet are about to touch the chilly floor, ready to embark on an unplanned adventure.

You: Hold up! Fetch my wheelchair for me!

Satoru: You don't need it anymore.

As you place your feet on the floor, you can't help but chuckle at the fact that your knees manage to hold up, allowing you to stand upright. The machines emit a continuous beeping sound, indicating a flat line on the monitor. Suddenly, the door swings open, and a troupe of nurses storm into the room. They swiftly gather around your motionless body lying on the bed. One nurse examines your vital signs, another administers an injection into your vein, and a third retrieves a machine to deliver cardiac shocks in an attempt to revive you. Witnessing these intense moments, you hold Satoru's hand tighter.

You: I don't want to come back.

Satoru: Are you sure?

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes and trickle down your cheeks as you gaze at him.

You: Yeah. I've spent more time living with your memory than I've had the opportunity to live alongside you.

Satoru's grip on your hand intensifies like he's determined to etch his touch into your very being. He lifts your hand delicately, planting a tender kiss upon it. Drawing you closer to him, he envelopes you in an embrace, burying your face in the warmth of his chest. With gentle affection, he presses a kiss upon the crown of your head, leaning his head upon yours.

As teardrops trickle onto your head, you find yourself clinging to him desperately, as if trying to hold onto the fragments of a shattered existence. In that agonizing moment, the harsh reality of his unfulfilled roles crashes down upon you like a relentless wave. He has endured the torment of being a husband bereft of a wife, a father denied a child, and a sensei forsaken his students.

Satoru: I will never let go of you anymore.

You: Is this just another one of those "oops, my bad" promises? You know, like when you swore to be to hold me for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health?

Satoru: Heyyy! I held you till death do us part. I even remember, the night before my, um, grand finale, I held you so good that you had spread your legs, moaning my name and begging me to hold you harder.

Just as you are ready to break free from his grasp and deliver a well-deserved bonk on his clueless head, the scene takes an unexpected turn. Your doctor rushes into the room and towards your bed, barking orders left and right, and proceeds to administer yet another mysterious injection into your poor, defenseless vein.

Deciding to redirect your attention, you avert your gaze and catch sight of your reflection in the nearby window. To your astonishment, your hair has magically reverted to its former glory, defying the clutches of time. Wrinkles? Vanished as if a skilled magician performed a grand disappearing act. You're suddenly transported back to the good ol' days of youthfulness. Bewildered, you inspect your once-bruised hands, only to find them as flawless as a newborn's.

You: Satoru? What's—

Satoru: I know, right? It turns out one of the unexpected bonuses of kicking the bucket is that you get to rock your sexiest form once again. So, brace yourself because I won't behave when you sashay around in that gorgeous drop-dead gown. I can't keep it in my pants till we arrive and I start making cream pies and babies with you!

You: Oh, my goodness! Does it actually work in the afterlife as well?

Satoru: You're referring to my... um, dick? Let me tell you, it still has the same old magic, if not a little extra pizzazz! It's like a fine wine, aging gracefully and delivering peak performance in the afterlife. Who knew there would be such perks beyond the grave?

You: No, idiot! I mean babies!

Satoru: How should I know? I made sure to wear a condom during my frisky encounters with angels.

You can't help but release an exasperated breath, causing your ears to turn as red as a tomato in a sauna. The thought of giving him a good old-fashioned strangling and sending him off to the after-afterlife has you chuckling at the absurdity of it all.

Satoru: Would it tickle your funny bone if I threw caution to the wind and played a game of "heavenly roulette" with unprotected encounters, potentially earning myself some out-of-this-world STD souvenirs?

With a masterful brow raise and a world-class eye roll, you are all set to deliver the ultimate "exit stage left" move. But he pulls off the ultimate surprise maneuver and hits you with the "Hold up, wait a minute" move. He has a secret superpower to freeze you in your snarky tracks! Goddammit! Those puppy eyes again.

Satoru: I was joking, okay? I just jerked off while watching your showering or self-exploration activities. I mean, fingering yourself while calling my name. That's it! Okay? Also, we should have a talk about that dildo you named Hollow Purple!

You: So, it seems you shamelessly watched everything, hm?

Satoru: Yes. Absolutely! I had a lot of spare time to slay, and, hey, let's not divert our attention from the Hollow Purple subject, you dirty little mouse!

You: God! Kill me already!

Satoru: Why? You're just itching to infiltrate the kingdom of my pants, aren't you?

You: You know what? I've had a change of heart. I'd rather try my chances with cosmic sickness than spend an eternity with your delightful company!

Satoru: Goodness gracious! You and your fiery temper! How on earth did you manage to cast a spell on me, making me fall for you?

You: It's common knowledge among our friends that everybody should bow down to your shameless expertise in the art of begging!

Satoru: Is that so?

He displays a smug smirk, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

Satoru: Well, we can ask when we see them.

Your eyes go from their regular setting to full-on "wide-angle lens" mode, capturing the world in all its wide-eyed wonder. It is as if someone presses the "zoom" button on your peepers, revealing a comical level of astonishment.

You: They are there, too?

Satoru: Oh boy, buckle up for Nanamin's epic rage when he discovers our fashionably late entrance!

You: Well, chop-chop! Time to hit the road! We wouldn't want to unleash the wrath of the entire afterlife just because your chatty ass decided to go on such a long monologue!

He leans in and gently kisses your forehead, intertwining his fingers with yours as he guides you towards the door. As you both stand at the doorway, you cast a lingering gaze upon the nurses and doctor, who seem to have thrown in the towel on their attempts to revive you.

Satoru: I can't wait to spook everyone alongside you. You'll forever be my always.

Author's Note: I had an absolute blast writing this.

@enchantedforest-network 🤍

[queen-haq]

Fic: Grudgingly Yours (Part 3)

Fic: Grudgingly Yours (Part 3)

Summary: You are a general surgeon, working in a hospital that’s slowly sucking the life out of you when one day you’re given the offer of a lifetime.

A.K.A  - An arranged marriage fic :)

Pairing: Billy Russo x You

Rating: R

Masterlist (contains links to my other stories and this one)

Part 3

You removed your glasses and started massaging the knot in your temple that seemed to have lodged inside your head permanently. Exhaling a heavy sigh, you laid your head down on the table. It wouldn’t be easy, you always knew that, but a part of you hadn’t realized how much work would be needed to actually build a clinic in the neighbourhood you grew up in. And this assessment was only the first step! After you completed this, that’s when the real work would begin.

Your phone vibrated and you reached out to grab it. It was the alarm you set to start getting ready for the dinner tonight. Fuck. Alistair was hosting a dinner for you and Billy, but you knew it was an excuse to check up on the two of you. You were already dreading it, imagining how stifling it would be. The last time you had met his family was at the wedding, and they had all looked at you like you were something to be afraid of. To them, you were the other – not rich, not white, not thin, and definitely not someone who was a part of the elite and affluent community they were a part of. And you would never be any of those things, so there was no point in trying to adjust your personality to fit in. Which was why you decided to go with a red jumpsuit to this dinner.

An hour later you were applying finishes touches to your makeup when you heard Billy’s voice in the kitchen. He was talking to Anita, the woman who came to clean the apartment every day. You went to the door, eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Gwen’s not gonna be around anymore, Anita,” he explained.

His voice was gentle, lacking the heavy condescension that was usually directed at you.

“Good, I don’t like her.” The elder lady retorted. “She was very rude!”

He chuckled.

“And it’s not right, you still bringing your girlfriends here when you’re married now. What about your wife?”

“Who gives a fuck?”

Ah, there it was. The biting edge in his tone whenever you were mentioned. You headed out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen.

“She’s a nice lady!” Anita chastised.

“She’s a goddamn bitch.”

“Talking about me again, sweetie?” You sauntered into the kitchen, wearing an amused smile.  

Anita immediately looked embarrassed at being caught but not Billy. Dressed in a perfectly tailored light grey suit, the colour making his pitch black eyes appear even more prominent, he stared back at you with a smug expression. “Speak of the devil and she doth appear.”

“Hush now, Billy,” Anita admonished him.

“First a bitch, now the devil. What’s next?”

“I’ve got some real sweet ones lined up. Just you wait.” He quirked up his eyebrow, eyes regarding your outfit carefully. “It’s black and white dress code.”

You shrugged. “It’s dinner with your family, not the fucking President.”

Billy shook his head. “So hellbent on being a total fucking embarrassment.”

“Billy, stop!” Anita turned to you, her cheeks a deep shade of crimson. “I’m so sorry-”

“It’s fine, Anita. Not your fault. This is just how he likes to sweet-talk me.”

He snickered. “In your fucking dreams.”

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” Anita said, giving you a warm smile. “Red really suits you.”

“Thank you.” While you walked over to the fridge to grab water, you sensed Billy watching you. When you turned around, his gaze shifted from you right away. If he didn’t make his dislike of you so obvious, you would have wondered if he was checking you out. Maybe he was one of those assholes that put down thick women but had a secret fetish for them. Not that you found the notion remotely flattering, it was insulting really.

“The old man doesn’t like being disobeyed,” Billy finally spoke.

You sneered. “You worried about me?”

“I don’t want your stupidity to blow back on me.”

“Don’t worry, I can handle assholes.” Your head dipped to the side, you gave him a beaming smile. “I married you, didn’t I?”

A gasp escaped Anita, she appeared to be scandalized by your words. Seeing the shock on the older woman’s face, you started laughing. As did Billy, much to your surprise. Your eyes scanned over his face, taking in his smile. Damn. He really was fucking gorgeous.

Such a shame that kind of hotness was wasted on a jerk like him.

Suddenly his gaze met yours, the smile on his face fading. He stared at you, stoic and intense, like he was trying to suck the life out of you through the sheer force of his eyes. You turned away, refusing to indulge in this kind of powerplay with him. “Anita, I’m having some people come over on Friday. Think we can stock up on some drinks?”

“Yes, of course,” Anita said, smiling.  “I can prepare some  menus if you like, give you a few options. I’ll hire some waitstaff-”

“God, no. Don’t bother. It’s nothing important.”

“But what about food? What will your guests eat?” Anita asked.

“I’ll order in some stuff.”

“Are you sure?”

The concern on Anita’s face made you chuckle. “Yeah. We’ll be fine.”

Your phone buzzed, and you glanced down at the text message notification.

“In town soon. Wanna meet?”

“See you later, Anita.”

You walked out of the kitchen, already texting back. “How long you around?”

Calvin was a friend you met in college, someone who you hooked up with occasionally. While the two of you always had fun, it was never serious and that’s how you both preferred it.

“Think you own this place?” Billy’s voice captured your attention away from the phone. He sauntered past you, his strut confident, hands tucked into his pockets, before he took a seat on the couch. Arrogance rolled off him in waves, he exuded rich privilege from head to toe as his onyx eyes regarded you with scorn.

“I live here,” you replied, eyebrow cocked.

“For now.”

You smirked. “Aw, you pissed I didn’t ask for your permission?”

“I don’t want your golddigging friends infesting this place.”

His cockiness made you laugh, and you felt that oh-so-familiar need to taunt him further. You sashayed forward, your sexiest walk on full display because you knew how much it would irritate him. Already you saw his jaw clench, noted how his eyes burned with contempt as you took a seat on the arm of the couch he was on. Leaning over him, you gave him your sexiest smirk. “You sure that’s all it is?” You lowered your head, so close you felt his breath hum against your skin. “Maybe what you’re really worried about is flexing for my friends. Maybe you know they’re not gonna be impressed by you.”

Billy’s pitch-black eyes remained glued to yours, inhaling you in. “A lion doesn’t concern himself with the opinion of sheep.”

You reached out to grip his jaw, the action taking him by surprise if the arced eyebrow was any indication. God, he had a beautiful jawline, his facial hair perfectly trimmed, his skin smooth. “Is that what you think you are, Billy? A lion?” You tightened your grip. “Because all I see is a fucking snake when I look at you.”

It happened quickly, so quickly that you barely had time to register what he was doing when he clutched the back of your head. He fisted your hair so tightly that it almost hurt, pulling you close against him. You were crushed against his chest, whatever advantage you had now gone.

“Don’t. Ever. Touch me again.”

His voice was quiet, which made his words even more dangerous. He didn’t need to scream or yell to get his point across. Seeing his reaction, you instantly regretted your actions. Maybe he was someone who was triggered by physical contact, it was common enough in people and you had dealt with it a few times when caring for patients. You released your grip on him, but he didn’t follow suit, still holding you securely in place.

In your experience, people who didn’t like being touched were also careful to respect others’ boundaries. That didn’t seem to be the case with Billy, recalling the night of your wedding when he’d threatened you. “You put your hands on my throat and choked me,” you reminded him.

“But you liked that, golddigger. You were begging for it.”

God, his fucking cockiness was infuriating! You shoved him hard, forcing him to loosen his hold immediately and you jumped back to distance yourself. There you were trying to be nice, and he just completely stomped all over your compassionate gesture. “Asshole!”

He grinned, crossing his legs and looking so smug and pleased with himself you wanted to throw something at him.

Everything – everything – about him annoyed the fuck out of you. “Fuck off and die, Billy!”

He laughed, eyes shining with wicked delight.

“And stay out of my way on Friday! I don’t want my guests dealing with you!” you huffed before stomping out of the room.

The nerve of him! You were so pissed you could barely even think straight, but you needed to conserve your energy for tonight. Taking a deep breath, you returned to your room to finish getting ready.

***

The atmosphere was strained, the tension in the room palpable. Alistair sat at the head of the table, commanding everyone’s attention, while the rest of the family appeared downright miserable. One by one he’d gone around the table, picking apart each person under the guise of doling out helpful advice with everyone dreading the spotlight when it fell upon them. Alistair was very practiced with his criticism; he didn’t resort to yelling or screaming. Instead his words were laced with poison and deliberately targeted one’s most vulnerable spots. A part of you felt sorry for them, which was funny considering how rich they were and that you grew up in the ghetto. But at least you were brought up in a loving home, unlike these people.

You surveyed the room, taking in Billy’s family. Along with Alistair, his parents were present and some of Billy’s cousins. As an outsider, you had a chance to observe the family dynamic and it didn’t surprise you that the camaraderie they put on display was just a show. As you eavesdropped on their conversation, you could hear them talking shit and selling each other out. Underneath the polite exterior, they were all snakes – just like Alistair. The only exception, surprisingly, was Billy.

He kept to himself for most of the night, simply examining the family from the sidelines. Just like you. Occasionally your gaze would land on him and you found him staring back at you intently each time, but you weren’t in a mood to fuck with him. You were still annoyed from earlier, and it didn’t help that the family was obviously gossiping about you.

Both Billy and you had chosen to ignore the dress code, which probably seemed like it was intentionally planned but definitely wasn’t. His light grey suit stood out in the sea of black and white, just like your red jumpsuit, but his outfit didn’t elicit as many looks as yours did. But, whatever. You had purposely chosen this outfit. If you were going to be the subject of gossip anyway, you might as well give them something to talk about.

It was Alistair’s voice that brought you out of your reverie. Your stomach clenched with nervous anxiety as Alistair’s attention slowly approached your side of the table. Half of the family looked obliterated, the other half drunk. Billy was seated next to you, and a part of you wondered what was going through his head. Was he used to this? Did he even realize how fucked up his whole family was?

“It’s unfortunate you didn’t choose to meet Howard for lunch yesterday, Billy.”

You cast a quick glance at Billy. Unlike the rest of his family, he didn’t seem bothered or nervous by Alistair’s cutting tone.

“Is it?” Billy replied, taking a sip of his wine.

“He’s a very busy man and he agreed to meet you as a favour to me.”

“Maybe you should check before you make plans for me,” Billy responded.

Oh, Alistair didn’t like that.

“Do you know how humiliating it was for me to ask someone like Howard for his assistance? He’s a gnat, he’s nothing. Yet I had to reach out to him so he could guide you-”

“And how many times have I said I’m not interested in joining politics, Grandfather? I have no fucking interest in it, I don’t give a shit about it.”

Alistair slammed his hand down on the table. A silent hush fell over the room. “You will do as I say! I will not let you be another loser in this family. I will not accept that! You’re destined to be more than just some foot soldier. This family’s full of idiots, everyone has been a goddamn disappointment! But not you, you’re better than that. You’re my legacy and I will not let your stupidity and stubbornness get in the way of making something of yourself. You will not waste-”

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked, interrupting the old man’s tirade. “A foot soldier? He’s a marine! He’s gone out on three tours and risked his life over and over again to keep this country safe. He’s probably saved countless lives and done more for people than anyone around this table. What have you done? What have you accomplished other than being borne into a rich family?” Fired up, your blood was boiling with rage. “And you’re criticizing him for wasting his life? Why? Because he doesn’t want to be a slimy politician? Your fucking puppet?”

“How dare you speak to me like that?” Alistair roared.

“How dare you? You think I’m just gonna sit here and listen while you yell at my husband?” You scanned the people around the table, noticing their stunned gazes, the fear and shock in their eyes as they glared at you. “Maybe everyone here is scared shitless of you because you hold the purse strings but that doesn’t give you the right to dictate others’ lives. Billy’s an adult. He’s made his own choices, good choices. Just because you don’t agree with them doesn’t make them bad decisions.” You glanced down, shaking your head with irritation. It was then you noticed Billy’s hand covering your right thigh under the table, slowly caressing your skin as if he was trying to soothe your nerves. During your outburst you hadn’t noticed when his hand slid over but now it was all you could feel, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your clothes.

Alistair’s face was flushed red with anger. “The only reason you’re a part of this family, why you’re at this table, is because I allowed you to be here.”

What the hell were you doing? You had better things to do than take part in Russo family problems. This was not your circus, not your monkeys. If they wanted to eat each other alive, so be it. “And that’s my cue to leave. I’ve had enough of you guys for today.”

Easing Billy’s hand from your thigh, you stood up. Your glass was half-full and you didn’t see the point in wasting the excellent wine. You chugged it in one gulp, clinked your glass in an imaginary cheer to the room before placing it back on the table, and then walked out.

As soon as you exited the space, you felt your stomach uncoil. All that nervous anxiety left your body in one big whoosh, you took a deep breath. Holy shit. You were never more grateful for your own family as you were at that moment.

***

Half an hour later you entered your high-rise building, greeting the doorman as you made your way to the elevator. When the doors opened you slid in and scanned the key card that gave you access to the penthouse. The elevator doors were closing when all of a sudden someone waved their hand halfway in, forcing the doors to open again. You looked up to see Billy walking in, dark eyes holding you hostage. You averted his gaze, pressing the close button again.

As soon as the elevator started moving, he marched towards you. You watched him confusedly as he closed the distance, forcing you to retreat until you were backed into a corner, his body encroaching every inch of your personal space.

You swallowed audibly, returning his hostile stare.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.” His voice was raspy, somehow soft and yet menacing. “I can stand up for myself.”

You sneered. “You think I did it for you?” You jut your chin out defiantly. “I don’t like bullies and your grandfather is a fucking bully. It had nothing to do with you. I would’ve stood up for anyone, it just happened to be you.”

The molten darkness of his gaze trailed down to your lips, as if following every micro change in your expression. Like he was trying to consume you, understand you. “Except you didn’t stand up for the rest of my family. Only me.”

He had a point, but you weren’t going to admit that. “Step back, Billy.”

Billy didn’t withdraw, he continued to hold firm. Your eyes lingered from his face, taking in his firm jaw, the graceful length of his neck, noting how the top button of his collared shirt was undone. A soft breath escaped your lips when his hands slid up the sides of your legs, your waist, trailing up languidly.

You pressed your hand against his chest, intending to push him off.

When his hand covered your own in a surprising gesture, his skin felt hot against your touch. You didn’t understand what he was doing, why he wouldn’t move. Maybe it was a ploy to get you to break but there was something else in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. A kind of vulnerability that left you breathless. Not something you wanted to deal with. “I said move back.”

“This isn’t gonna happen, sweetheart,” he murmured.

Not golddigger. Sweetheart. It was meant to be sarcastic, you were sure of it, but instead the word was pure seduction on his lips, intoxicating. And oddly tender.

“You’re not going to claw your way inside my head. I won’t let you.” It was a warning, a threat, temptation wrapped in danger.

“That’s the last thing I want,” you said, surprised at how resolute you sounded and not at all the quivering mess you felt inside.

He didn’t say anything in response. There was no sarcasm, no scorn, no signs of anger or derision even. Just stark seriousness.

“Stay the fuck away from me.”

He turned around and walked out, leaving you perplexed. You hadn’t realized the elevator reached your floor, all of your senses overwhelmed by Billy’s close proximity. The subtle notes of his cologne still lingered in the air and you took a few seconds to calm your nerves. Not until you heard the door slam to your penthouse did you exit the elevator and head inside.

A/N - Hope you guys are enjoying the fic! Would love to hear your thoughts if you have the time. Comments are loved and cherished :)

[jellifysh]

Fake Love (part 2)

Or, Your Boyfriends Are Always There for You, and Always Have Been. Right?

OT7 x reader (soft yandere! bts x reader, amnesia au, heavy manipulation, dark fluff, the boys love you they’re just insane about it, ur family sucks sorry, more mentions of injuries and hospitals, I don’t actually know how hospitals works so I’m making this all up <3)

A/N: dam I really went three months w/o updating that’s crazy omggg y’all I’m so sorry,, I had the planning for this just sitting here for months but I’m actually not sure where I’m going with this story imma be fr,, it’s gonna be a happy ending and morally grey (as all my stories tend to be for some reason) but for the most part it’s just gonna be fluff :) enjoy <333

You floated on the edge of consciousness, feeing hands stroking through your hair. Stretching out your body, slowly “So beautiful.” A voice said, hush as a strand of hair was brushed back from your face. You shifted a little, then blinked open your eyes, shutting them again as the sun hit them too soon.

“Aw, too bright? I’ll close them, darling, don’t worry.” Jin cooed, moving to close the curtains securely. You sat up slowly, their eyes on you as you got your bearings, slowly blinking and rubbing sleep off your face, then laughing to yourself in disbelief as you looked around. The members had gathered in various spots around your bed, Jungkook was playing with your hair, Jimin had been brushing a hand across your cheek, and the rest gazed at you, fondness in your eyes. You wondered how many time you had woken up like this in the past—well, minus the hospital bed.

“I almost thought you all were a dream.” You quietly admitted, awe creeping into your sleepy tone.

“Not a dream, nabi. This is real.” Taehyung said, a bit of awestruckness in his voice as well, leaning down to link pinkies with you. You giggled, wrapping your pinky around his tightly, marveling at the way your hands seemed to fit so well together.

“And we got you a present.” Namjoon smiled, holding a bag out to you. Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you took it with the hand not holding Taehyung’s, looking around at all of them for a clue to what was inside. “Just open it, love.” He chided, gently. You stuck your hand inside, reaching past tissue paper and pulling out a sleek, rectangular device.

“It’s a new phone!” Jin cheered from his spot on the right of your bedside. “And we set it up for you already, just to make sure you wouldn’t have any extra stress.” You examined the phone, holding the weight in your hand without turning it on yet, getting used to the new features.

“Wow, this is, I mean, this has to be the latest model, I can’t have this.” You shook your head, their generosity almost overwhelming. You knew from experience that phones like this were not cheap. Even if they were one of the most famous groups in the world, they didn’t need to spend their wealth on you. You placed it back in the bag, holding it back out to them, though none of them moved to take it from you.

It was Yoongi that spoke up then, warmth and intensity swimming in his deep eyes as he looked directly into yours. “You can have that and so much more.” He said, no sign of humor in his tone as he insisted. “We want to treat you, please, please let us.” You looked at him, half-surprised by the honesty and half-touched, your arm slowly pulling the bag back as you realized he really meant it, the rest of their faces reflecting the same seriousness.

“I don’t even know what to say. I— Thank you.” You finally said, looking down at the phone again to avoid their intense gazes.

“Don’t thank us yet. We are far from done.” Hoseok smiled brightly, and as you looked up, smiling back, the room felt lighter.

“We spoke to the doctors while you were asleep,” Namjoon started, “They want to keep you for a bit more monitoring for today, just to make sure everything’s in order before they release you, but you’ll be discharged by the end of the day. We can drive you back your apartment and you can settle back in at home. But…” his sentence drifted off as he cast a worried look towards the window.

“But what?” You asked, starting to get concerned yourself, siting up a bit straighter in your bed.

“Well,” Namjoon continued, tone full of weariness. “We can’t stay much longer, love. We have to be back in Korea soon, we dropped everything to come to you but, we have a lot planned that we have to start on real soon. If you stay here, we can’t stay and help you recover. Do you have anyone to stay with you?”

You probably didn’t, you realized slowly, almost deflating at the thought of it. In the few days you’ve been in the hospital only they came to visit you. And if you’re on the same terms with your family as you used to be, they likely won’t want to care for you. You could get some sort of stay at home nurse, or stay in the hospital to be taken care of, but that would be money. Money you didn’t have.

“I don’t… I don’t know. I’d need to make some calls.” You responded weakly, mindlessly moving your hand to fully hold Taehyung’s, not noticing the way his face brightened. “When do you leave?”

“At most, in four days.” Jimin replied despondently.

“Four?” You repeated in shock. “But that’s so soon.”

They nodded solemnly, letting you think it over in silence. You took a moment to think with the new information, trying to ignore the way your heart sank at the thought of them leaving. Did you want them to stay? It’d be weird wouldn’t it? Latching on so quickly to them when you don’t really know them? But you do, you reminded yourself. They wouldn’t be here if you didn’t mean something to them. Surely you can trust them?

Jin broke the silence, his hand gently caressing your leg that wasn’t in a cast. “Let’s not think about it now, hmm? No reason to stress.” He suggested with a warm smile. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

You shook your head no, expression clearing up as you chose to forget for a moment.

“Then we’ll get you something to eat, and you can have the whole day to think. How about that?” Hoseok asked, and you nodded.

“I am kind of hungry.” You agreed, though that was an understatement. You were starving, you were thirsty, you were exhausted although all you did was lay down, and you just wanted to be out of the hospital already.

Jimin perked up, moving towards the door. “I’ll get you some food, pretty, don’t even worry about it.” He said, brimming with excitement as he exited.

Taehyung rushed after him, a competitive fire lit behind his eyes. “I’ll get you better food!”

Jungkook shot up from his seat, hastily putting on his jacket, rushing to the door as well. “I’ll get all your favorites, noona!”

And with that, they left in a whirlwind and Namjoon sighed, a tired smile on his face as he turned to you. “I should probably go with them.” You nodded, understanding, and he exited as well, waving at you as he left.

“Now,” Hoseok announced as the room quieted. “Let’s show our princess how to use her new phone!” He cheered, him and Jin excitedly raving about all the cool features of the phone and stuff you could do with it and Yoongi chided them to give you some space.

—

After the other boys returned with way more food than you could possibly eat in one day—Jungkook was right, he did get you all your favorites— and did a lot more laughing than was probably safe for you to do with bandages wrapped around your ribs, you felt the mood of the room slowly winding down, the boys exchanging glances as Namjoon kept texting someone frantically on his phone.

“Is everything alright?” You asked hesitantly, but by the look Namjoon gave you, you could already tell it wasn’t.

“I’m sorry, love, we have to go.” Namjoon replied. He had slipped into calling you love today and as you heard it more, you minded it less and less. Maybe it’s because it’s what he used to call you? A part of your mind must remember being with them, it was too easy with them, after all, they knew too much about you.

“Do we have to?” Jungkook whined and Namjoon frowned, nodding at him.

“The company wants to speak with us immediately over the phone about… our plans going forward.” He said, casting a glance to you out of the corner of his eye.

“We can’t leave her alone.” Yoongi argued.

“One of us should stay with her. I volunteer.” Taehyung stood up, only to get pushed back into his seat.

“You sit down.” Jin playfully scolded. “I’ll stay with her.”

“No fair!”

“Hush, I’m older than you.”

“You sure, hyung?” Namjoon asked, standing as everyone began to gather their things.

“I’m sure we’ll be alright. I’ll have her discharged and drive her to her apartment.” Jin turned to you. “If that’s alright with you?”

You twiddled your thumbs, a feeling of numbness coming over you at the thought of them leaving. “Um, sure. Can’t stay in the hospital forever, I guess.”

After that it was a blur of events, the boys all went to the front desk with you to check out and escorted you to the car in your brand new wheelchair. You tried to cheer yourself up mentally, but the heavy cast on your leg and the layers and layers of bandages on your arms and ribs made it hard to stay optimistic.

You were lifted into the car by Jungkook, the boys all fussing over you as they helped you with your seatbelt and getting comfortable in the chair. As you tuned out their squabbling, you found yourself shaking at the thought of being in a car again after your last accident. You blinked, then blinked again, the feeling of a car quickly accelerating, then even more quickly stopping as the feeling of slamming into something and flying through the air filled your body and you were breathing heavy, hard, and fast and—

“Y/N?”

You gasped, eyes fluttering open. You were still in the parking lot. The car hadn’t even started moving. You looked around at their concerned faces. You floundered for something to say, settling on, “Sorry, I’m just… a bit tired, I guess.”

They exchanged a long look with each other that you tried to ignore, not wanting to know if they pity you. “Of course, I’ll make sure you rest once you’re home.” Jin replied.

“Don’t worry, noona, we’ll be back with you soon. Just relax and enjoy being home again.” Jungkook said, trying to force a positive tone but you could hear the worry.

“Thanks, I’ll try.” You smiled, sure it looked stained, and they closed the door, Jin pulling out of the parking lot and driving to your apartment almost on autopilot, him not once asking you where you lived.

You looked out the window as he drove. You recognized certain parts of the city of course, places you’d been all your life, but when he turned down the street to your apartment building and parked in the lot, you had no recollection of ever being there.

“Is this… where I live?”

Jin smiled at you, brief and sad. “Yeah, we figured you may not remember it. You only moved here about a year ago.”

You sighed, frustrated with not knowing anything, staring up at the tall building through the windshield.“How are we supposed to get in if I don’t even remember living here?”

You heard a jingle to your left, looking over at Jin as he held up a key ring. “That’s what I’m here for, jagi. You gave us a spare key in case we were ever in town.” He chuckled, looking wistfully at the apartment as if gazing upon a memory. “I remember you were so excited to move in here. You danced around your room all night, it was adorable.”

You laughed, “Yup, that sounds like me alright.”

Jin looked over at you, and you looked back at him, stupid smiles on both your faces. You sat in the calm quiet moment, basking in the peace you felt with him as warmth filled your chest. Jin spoke quietly, gently breaking the moment. “I’ll help you into your chair.

Entering the actual apartment was strange. It was familiar and warm but at the same time, you remembered nothing about the actual layout. You remember your furniture—the couch you dragged from your mom’s house to every apartment you had ever lived in, the throw pillows you’d had since you were a teenager, the Polaroids you’ve taken of yourself in cool locations and posters of your favorite bands, BTS included— but memories of living there were gone.

“This poster’s always been my favorite.” Jin commented, and you turned your head to see him standing next a poster of himself, copying the pose he was making in the photo.

You chuckled, “I pulled that from an album, I forget which one.”

“Wings,” he replied automatically. You turned to look at him, suprised how quickly he answered, and he continued, “I remember my hairstyle.” He joked, making you giggle.

You continued looking around, noticing dishes in the sink, clothes on the floor, a laundry basket next to the machine overflowing with clothes. “I left this place such a mess.”

“Don’t you worry about that, I’ll clean up for you. Here lemme help you lie down and rest.”

Jin helped into your bed, the unfamiliar object conforming to your body perfectly, and you snuggled up against the blankets, almost comfortable enough to ignore the rigid cast on your leg. After that, he began fretting over the apartment, picking up and arranging things, folding clothes, and moving into the rest of the apartment to wash laundry, dishes and pick up the living room.

Brushing past the disbelief that international superstar Kim Seok Jin was cleaning up your living room, you used the free time to acclimate to your new phone.

Tapping the screen to turn it on, you were greeted with a wallpaper of Jimin, Tae and Jungkook making funny faces at the camera, as well as about 20 new messages from a group chat with the members that you had already been added to. You smiled to yourself, but skipped past talking to them just yet, familiarizing yourself with the functions and settings.

After a while, you started to set up your email, having to reset your password to get in, and find out what you missed in the short time you had been away and maybe get a hint of what you were doing before. Once you finally managed to get in, you were met with a bunch of emails from your landlord on being behind on your rent, and an email from your job to tell you that you had been terminated. Looking over the contact information in the email, you dialed the number to try and bargain for your job.

“I just don’t understand, if I worked for you I must have some paid time off, or maybe even some sort of medical exemption, I mean, I can give you hospital bill, I swear I was just incapacitated— I didn’t even know I had this job until today, this isn’t fair.” You pleaded.

The voice over the phone repeated the same thing they had been telling you for the last five minutes. “I’m sorry, Ms.L/n but we can’t make an exception, you didn’t show up for three days in a row and no one informed us of why and you being injured and having lost your memory makes us even less inclined to hire you back. Thank you for your work with us but we can’t hire you back.”

You stammered, “You can’t make a single exception? I can relearn—I can work for a couple weeks without pay, I just— as far as I know, this is my only job, this is what I depend on.”

The person over the phone seemed to hesitate for a moment before answering resolutely. “I’m sorry again, I— we can’t hire you again. Have a good day.”

And with that the line went dead. You huffed, getting the contact information for your landlord to see if there some way you could hold off on paying rent until you had a better financial standing, hoping for better luck.

“I’m so sorry to hear that you had been in the hospital, honey, but I still need my money and I really don’t think you’re in any place to give it to me.” The landlord stated, unyielding in her decision.

“I… could figure something out…” you protested weakly, unsure of how exactly you would do that.

“You’re a lovely person and you’ve been a great tenant, but you’ve been behind on your payments too many times and this is my last straw, I’m sorry. I’m evicting you if you can’t pay this months rent.”

“What? I— what if what to break the lease? Can I just move out?”

“You still have to pay this month’s rent, and the two months still left in your lease.”

You sighed, heavy and weary. “I… I understand, I’ll call you back when I figure something out.”

“Okay, have a good day.”

“As if anyone could ever have a good day after news like that.” You muttered to yourself. You sat there, thinking to yourself for a moment with your finger hovering over the contacts, before hesitantly clicking it. The boys hadn’t added your mothers number, and there was probably a good reason—last you remember you weren’t on good terms and you doubt that changed, but you figured you may as well check in. If the boys were leaving soon you needed to know if someone could take care of you, and your mom was your last hope. You knew her number by heart, not that she ever really picked up half the time.

After three rings, the line picked up. “Hello?” An annoyed voice asked.

“Hi, mom, I—“

“You again? Listen, whatever crazy story you have to tell me now, I’m sick of it. You’ve always been an attention seeker and I’m done with you. First, you tell me your angel of a sister is ‘horrible’ to you, then you say you’re ‘too stressed’ at school in the career you chose, then you make up some crazy story about people following you. What do you want me to do? I’m one person, not your therapist!”

“I— I just called to say I got into a car accident and I’m in a cast—“

“Oh really?” She replied skeptically.

You felt frustrated enough to cry. “Yes, why don’t you ever believe me? I need someone to take care of me and I cant—“

“You’ll be fine, stop whining to me you’re a grown woman, I finished raising after you turned 18, now for once in your life, act your age.” She spat out, hanging up before you could get another word in.

As you sat in the silence, the only sounds coming from the gentle clinking of dishes in the kitchen, you fought the urge to laugh. What were you thinking calling your mother? As if she’d ever care about you. As if she’d listened to a thing you ever said. She hates your guts and at this point you hated hers. Nothing in your life ever managed to go right. As you buried your face in your hands, images began to flash behind your eyes. A tall building, getting out the passenger seat of an unfamiliar car, bringing a tray of coffee to someone, smiling, laughing, sitting at a desk.

You gasped, opening your eyes, and frantically wiping the tears away. Work, you remembered, those were memories of work. You… were an assistant to… someone? You closed your eyes again trying to focus on the fleeting memories but to no avail, nothing but glimpses and fogginess filled your mind. You huffed, frustrated yet again. It seemed like you’d always been frustrated but now yet with all of it hitting you full force, you just wanted to curl up in your blankets and cry for hours.

A knock on your open door showed Jin pushing inside your room with a basket of freshly dried laundry. “Your clothes are so cute, I—“ he halted, noticing the distress in your body language. “Jagi, what happened?” He asked, moving to your side and placing the clothes basket down next to your dresser.

“I’m just stressed.” You sniffed pathetically, not knowing what else to say.

“What do you mean? Why are you stressed?” Jin asked, starting to fold up the clothes neatly and place them in the drawers.

“Well, I was on the phone with my job. I had a job before the accident, obviously, I had a whole apartment, but I got fired and was thinking about it and I… remembered.” Jin stopped in his movements, hands frozen in their motion of folding a shirt in half.

“I can’t remember anything else, but I remember I worked at an office as an assistant.” You continued, not noticing the way Jin had gone deathly still. You clasped your hands, staring out the window as you thought. Bits and pieces of carrying coffee, filing paperwork, boring monotonous office life came to your mind, but frustratingly nothing else. Not your boss’s name, not the company you worked at, not even the color of the desk you sat at. “I’m just stressed because there’s so much I don’t remember. The world didn’t stop just because I don’t remember how it used to spin. There’s people expecting me to come to work, to pay my bills, and I don’t even remember who they are! I didn’t even remember you—“ Jin cupped your face, wiping away tears you didn’t realize started falling again.

“Darling, don’t worry about that, none of that matters right now, okay? I want you to focus on recovering and making sure you’re eating and drinking enough.” He paused, hesitantly continuing on to say, “And, if you really want, we can get our people to try and recover any missing information— with your permission of course— just past texts, voicemails, maybe, stuff that might help you… remember.” Jin finished cautiously, looking in your eyes for a sign of approval.

“You would do that for me?” You asked hopefully. At this point, you would take whatever help you could get.

“If it would take a burden off your shoulders, I would do anything.” Jin murmured softly and reassuringly, the warmth in his gaze melting into your bones.

You sighed again, but this time with relief. “That’s be so great. I feel so horrible, I’m basically useless—“

“Don’t talk about yourself like that, darling, we’d be happy to take care of everything you need for the rest of your life if you wanted. If it were up to us, you’d never lift another finger.” He winked, booping your nose as he moved to folding clothes.

“You don’t really mean that. You’d get tired of me eventually.” You argued.

“You don’t know just how much you mean to us, sweetheart. You could stay here forever if you wanted to, or if you wanted we’d get you a nicer place, an island with a private beach even. Anything.” He turned to look at you again, nothing but fondness in his eyes. “You won’t ever stress again if we can help it, I promise. Relax, and we’ll take care of everything for you, okay?”

You sighed, too tired to object. “Okay.” You blinked heavily, a soft smile coming over Jin’s face.

“You tired, honey? Feel free to sleep, I’ll be right here.” He reached over, patting your hand.

You held it, eyes fluttering. “Okay.” You mumbled sleepily. “Don’t leave.”

“Never.” He whispered.

“Jin,” you started.

“Yes?”

“I’ll come with you guys. I’ll go to Korea.”

“Really?”

You nodded, eyes closing, unable to see the satisfied smile that had come over Jin’s face.

—

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[promptcorner]

Here’s another note from the same wip as the Death by Coffee Post.

(Let your imaginations run wild)

“Okay, everyone listen up!” Dick said, clapping his hands together to get the group’s attention. The sound carried over the bustling noise of the airport, causing Damian and Jon to pause in their conversation. “While we wait for B, let’s go over some ground rules!”

“What?”

“Hugh.”

“Ok!”

“Tt.”

“Alrighty then! Rule number one: Don’t die!”

“Most of us kinda already broke that one, Dicky.” Jason whispered to Dick.

“Then don’t die again!” Dick whispered back. “Alright! Rule number two: No hospital visits!”

“Uuuuh— Cass performed the Heimlich on me and Duke in the food court,” Jon said while raising his hand. “And I saw Tim consume ten cups of espresso before we even got to the airport terminal.”

“True.”

“Yep!”

“Ten—!?!”

“Hey! Keep your eyes to yourself!”

“… Still not technically a hospital visit! But duly noted! Okay! Rule number three: Don’t hurt anything or anyone!” Stephanie slowly raised her hand, which prompted Dick to point in her direction.

“Yes, Steph?”

“Do feelings count?” She asked.

“… Yes?” Dick said, voice strained.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Soooo— I may—,”

“Shush, shush, shush..! I don’t want to know,” Dick pinched the bridge of his nose before adding, “And lastly, rule number four: learn something.”

“Awww poo! Homework already? I just started vacation!” Jon whined.

“We learn ‘something’ new on the daily,” Damian said. “This last ‘rule’ barely qualifies as a rule.”

“Yeah— not your best list, Dickens.” Jason added.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this… But I agree with Demon Brat and company.” Tim said.

“Word!” Steph called out.

“Yeah, Jon voiced my thoughts exactly,” Duke said. “Also, I think you need to update your rules just a little bit.”

“…”

“…”

Dick let out a hefty sigh, “I’m learning that I can’t take you guys anywhere.” Cass patted him on the shoulder while holding back a chuckle.

Jon grumbled for a beat before realization slowly climbed up his face, “Hey wait! I’m not even going with you guys!”

Damian flicked his attention to him, “Tt. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Wait what? Your not?” Duke and Jason asked.

“Ooooh, oh my god you’re right, you’re not!” Tim said. “I forgot you and Lois were going to Italy.”

“Wow, guess you’ll have to add no kidnapping to your list of rules, Dick.” Steph snickered. Cass was leaning on Dick, quietly laughing.

“Hush!”

“Oh thank Krypton that I don’t have to do homework.” Jon said as he slumped in his seat.

Damian’s phone buzzed to life with a notification. He opened it to find a message from Danny.

Daniel: update on the haunted dream hotel! grandma mason and tucker found it!!! 👻👻👻

we’re taking a plane up there today 🛫

just hope we don’t run into any issues 🫡

that would suck 😭😭😭

what’s been happening on your end? any more encounters? visions? 👻

Damian released some tension from his shoulders. As he wrote out a response, his family’s flight came into view.

(Note: Damian (15), Jon (16), Danny (15), Tucker (15), and Sam (15)— everyone else’s ages are simple math that I don’t want to do)

((Note: Tucker and Tim become hacker buddies and brothers in coffee war crimes as the fic progresses; but that’s just a B plot))

[winter-leftovers]

Til The End Of Eternity || Chapter twelve: A Night to Remember (12/?)

(Douxie Casperan x f!reader)

Summary: Y/n is trying to figure her life out but is going to be hard since her brother is the new trollhunter and she is plagued by dreams and feelings she doesn’t understand.

Chapter Summary: Angor Rot attacks. Douxie tries to talk to Y/n.

Word count: 2566

Warnings: life update in a/n :)

(Season 1 Episode 24,25 )

Song?: Liability by Lorde

Previous - Next

Masterlist

“Why trust this changeling when all he does is betray you?” Draal stood behind the counter.

“I’m with Draal on this one” Y/n looked down from her seat on top of the counter to the floor where Jim was kneeling.

“Because…Because, unfortunately, I have to” Jim was searching through the kitchen for canned food “Is this all the canned food we have?”

“You need more? Mmh” Draal walked to the counter that Jim was looking through “We should chop him into little pieces and can him right now”

Y/n sighed “As lovely as that might sound, we still have a small issue called binding spell”

Strickler threw cereal to Draal's face making him growl.

Alfred rolled his eyes. He was tired of the changeling’s antics.

“Say you do get him out of town. What’s stopping Angor Rot from finding him?” Asked Draal.

“I don’t know. We disguise him” Jim kept looking through the kitchen cabinets.

“Disguise?” Draal looked at Y/n and then back at Jim “Angor is a cunning and ruthless assassin. You think he’ll be fooled by a hat and mustache?”

“Then I guess we’ll fight him. Far, far away from here” Jim took more food from the refrigerator.

“I do not like this plan. He could strike at any time, at any place. He would have the tactical advantage” Draal insisted.

“I don’t know, okay?” Jim turned, overwhelmed by the troll’s complaints “I don’t have all the answers!” He took a breath “Sorry, I know it’s not a well thought out plan, but we have to leave”

Y/n’s phone started ringing.

“It’s mom” she announced. She took her finger to her lips “Shh” She took a breath and answered “Hi! Mom. How are you?”

“Sorry I didn’t come home last night, kiddo. It’s been crazy over here at the hospital. Looks like my night shift is turning into a weekend and shift”

“You’re gonna be gone all weekend?” She looked at Jim “That sucks…” Y/n gave a dirty look to Draal for growling at Strickler.

“I know, but you can take care of yourself and your brother. Just stay at home and be safe”

“Yeah, I can hold down the fort” she chuckled.

“You’re lifesaver”

“That’ll look good on my resume”

Barbara laughed “Love you, kiddo”

“Love you too, mom” Y/n hanged up

“She’ll be out of the house all weekend?” Asked Strickler.

Y/n nodded

“The house would be empty”Jim said.

The three of them smiled.

“Fine. I have rocks for brains. Would someone tell me what’s so obvious?” Draal scoffed.

“I don’t get it either” Al scratched his ear.

“We are going to hold down the fort” Jim started to take back out the food he packed.

“We survived one night. He’s not going to survive the next” explained Strickler.

“Right. We fight here. Take back the tactical advantage. An ambush!” Draal was getting excited.

“I like ambushes” Al stretched his back.

“We’re going to need supplies” said Jim.

Y/n looked at the clock.

“Listen, I have a shift but I’ll be back to help. Ok?” She ruffled Jim’s hair.

—

The day passed painstakingly slowly. Y/n wanted to scream. Jim assured her everything was going fine but she couldn’t focus on anything. She thanked the universe for not having to handle the register because she was sure she would make more than one awful mistake.

The sun had finally set, Y/n felt she could breathe a little bit better. The first part was coming to an end.

The clock reminded her that she still had five minutes before it was an appropriate time to get her bag.

The bell rang and a new customer came in. Douxie. For a moment, Y/n thought about hiding but the store was small, everywhere would be a bad hiding spot, so she stood still next to an old ABBA poster.

“Y/n! I feel like we haven’t seen each other in forever” he smiled.

Y/n’s throat closed. She had spent the last couple of days hiding in the darkness of her room because of him yet his smile still made her knees buckle.

“I didn’t realize” she gave him a half-smile, her voice was steadier than she thought it would be but it was also colder.

“Well… you used to pass by to say hello after work and then you…stoped” his smile fell.

Y/n nodded.

“Did something happen?” He looked concerned. Not what Y/n was expecting.

She didn’t want to look him in the eyes. She was scared that if she looked at him she would let out the screams that she’s been keeping in her chest.

“No. I guess I’ve been busy” she gave him something that resembled a smile.

“Oh” Douxie furrowed his brow.

She felt awful. She thought that Douxie and her were going great but after what he told his friend Zoe made her think otherwise. Y/n had never been close to someone so maybe she was annoying and didn’t know it, but that wasn’t the way she wanted to find out.

Her heart still wouldn’t catch up to the fact that he didn’t want her. She would melt every time she thought of him. Every time she saw that photo he took with her phone of Archie and him. And, right now, she should be nervous about facing Angor Rot yet all anxiety she was feeling was because of Douxie.

He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. His brows were furrowed.

Y/n looked at the clock announcing she could leave.

“I’m sorry, Hisirdoux but my shift is over and I have to go home” Y/n turned to leave but Douxie softly grabbed her by the arm.

“What did you call me?” He whispered. His eyes were shining, full of something Y/n couldn’t explain.

“Hisirdoux? Isn’t that your name?“ she repeated, her eyes full of confusion.

Douxie just looked at her, his eyes scanning her face again and again and Y/n let him. She didn’t move until his soft grip fell.

“I have to go” she whispered and left.

Again, he didn’t say anything. He just stood there. Watching her leave.

—

Y/n drove back to the house in silence. Usually, she would listen to something: music, a podcast or even the local radio station, but this time, she couldn’t, the voices in her head were loud. Angor Rot, Douxie, magic, all turning around in her head like a tornado destroying all other thoughts that would come their way.

She stopped the car when she saw her mother’s car park at the house. Y/n jumped out the car and tried to look through her mother’s car window praying that she would find her before she could get inside, but the car was empty. She ran to the house and pushed the door. It was heavier than usual.

“Mom? ” she screamed “What’s going on?”

She finally opened the door and found her mother sitting in a box drinking water from the jug.

“Did you tell her?” Y/n walked slowly to them.

Jim nodded.

“So let me get this straight. There are good troll and bad trolls and somehow you?” Barbara looked at her son.

“If I may. There is a vast world beneath our feet, Barbara, and your son has stirred up a heap of trouble” Strickler explained.

“Dude!” Jim complained.

“This is so…” Barbara grabbed her head.

“I’ll give you three a moment” Strickler went to the kitchen.

Y/n kneeled down next to her mother.

“I can’t believe this is what you’ve been doing. All those late nights” Barbara looked at Y/n and back at Jim “You getting arrested. Going to the hospital. Why are you this…trollfighter?”

“Uh…Trollhunter” Jim corrected.

Y/n put her hand on her mother’s knee trying to comfort her.

“You should be worried about high school and girls, not this…I mean, can’t you just ask someone else to do it?”

“I’m…I’m afraid it’s a permanent position?” Jim explained “They need me, mom. I know it’s hard to believe but I’m sorta, like, their protector” Jim explained.

“And I've been there with him all I can” Y/n smiled.

“But who’s going to protect you?” Barbara grabbed her children's hands.

“Barbara, you do have to leave! It’s…” Strickler tried to talk but the cans that were hanging above them started to move announcing Angor Rot’s entrance. Suddenly, the cans exploded and the four of them jumped back.

“The basement!” Jim said

“What’s in the basement?” Asked Barbara.

“Draal was supposed to guard it” said Strickler.

A black orb rolled from the basement and with a flash cut off the lights.

“What happened to the lights?” Barbara whimpered.

Jim grabbed a flashlight while Strickler and Y/n guided Baraba behind one of the barricades.

“Stay close, mom” asked Jim.

“But I can’t see you”

Y/n saw a shadow move in the darkness and grabbed the knife she kept in her bag. Jim saw it too and said the enchantment.

“For the glory of Merlin, daylight is mine to command”

“Jim, you’re glowing! How…how are you glowing?” Barbara asked, impressed.

“It’s armor, mom. It’s part of the job” Jim lifted his sword dodging a purple flash.

“Mom” he screamed.

“Stick to the plan. You know what to do” screamed Strickler.

Y/n grabbed the knife tighter while hearing the fight behind her.

“You did not run, brave hunter, but the brave are the first to die” Angor threatened Jim.

Y/n gulped. It was the first time she was close to Angor Rot. His soulless voice made her shiver.

“Get her out of here” Y/n said to Strickler.

“No. No” Barbara complained.

“Go! Go!” Screamed back Jim.

“No. No without my children! Y/n! Jim!” Barbara insisted while Strickler dragged her out.

“Y/n, you too” Jim screamed.

“I’m not leaving” She jumped from behind Jim and kicked Angor Rot off her little brother. Jim attacked but Angor took daylight from him.

Y/n didn’t know what the plan was so she tried to keep the troll from striking Jim.

The trollhunter ran and grabbed the crossbow that Strickler left behind. Y/n saw his brother put a stone on the arrow and shoot Angor off the kitchen counter. She gasped when the troll grabbed the arrow.

“You have to be faster than that” The troll laughed until all the metal in the kitchen started flying to him. Y/n’s knife, all of the kitchen knives, the pans, the fridge hit him in the face.

Jim and Y/n looked at each other panting.

“You think you can stop me with booby traps?” Angor Rot emerged from inside the fridge with daylight in his hand starting the fight again.

Jim was able to dodge all of Angor’s strikes but the troll was able to kick him and lift him with his magic.

“No” Y/n tried to hit him with a stick she found but the troll was faster and he punch her in the stomach making her hit her head with the wall

‘You’re a wizard. Use your magic’ a woman whispered.

Barbara’s scream woke her up. She ran to the stairs and saw her mother coming down grabbing her neck.

“Mom! Are you okay?” She screamed and helped her down.

“My side hurts. Why…” Barbara groaned.

“Come on, I have to get you out of here” Jim grabbed her mother’s bag and with the help of Y/n took her to her car.

“We need to get to the hospital” Jim said as he sat next to her mom in the back of the car.

“They can’t help us. We have to go to TrollMarket” Y/n drove off as soon as Strickler got in.

Y/n could hear Barbara and Jim talking but couldn’t understand a thing. She felt like she was under water, the only thing in her mind was getting to TrollMarket.

In the side mirrors she saw a ball of purple light coming at her. She twisted the wheel to the right, dodging it but driving off to the forest.

“Perhaps now” Strickler coughed “ we call your friends. I think we lost him”

“No, we didn’t” Y/n furrowed her brows and accelerated when she saw Angor Rot appear in front of them.

“Get to the bridge. Now!” Jim screamed.

“I’m trying!” Y/n screamed back. She twisted the wheel one more time and got into the canal.

“Jim!” Strickler screamed.

Y/n looked through the rear view mirror and saw Angor Rot standing on top of the bridge.

“Oh, no, no, no” Her brother screamed.

The troll jumped to the roof of the car and punched the back window. Y/n accelerated without realizing Angor Rot had grabbed Jim.

“Turn now!” He screamed as he climbed back into the car.

The troll jumped back to the roof of the car and this time punched the windshield. The second punch filled Y/n with rage. She felt her whole body buzzing and her jaw tightening.

“Get off” she screamed, hitting the wheel.

A big blast of red light came out of her throwing Angor Rot into the air.

The troll quickly recovered and started throwing enchanted stones to the car making Y/n almost losing control of the car. She turned one last time and drove into the wall praying that Toby was there on time. The car went through the walls and fell down the stairs of TrollMarket catching the trolls attention.

Y/n crawled out of the car and tried to stabilize herself, the fall had made her dizzy.

“Help! We need help!” She heard her brother scream.

She lifted her eyes and everything was blurry. Her chest tightened at the familiar feeling. Last time she felt like that was when she saw the shadow staff.

The sounds of the complaints of the trolls pushed her down. Her knees trembling because of the invisible weight on her shoulder. She tried to focus on the light of the Heartstone instead of the dark cave her mind was trying to take her.

She lifted her hand to grab the person next to her for support, but no one was there. She turned to the empty space and saw a golden armor illuminated by a golden light, she lifted her eyes and saw her: the woman in her dreams, the voice that had been consoling her.

“Are you alright, sister?” She asked.

A silent tear fell from Y/n’s eyes. Seeing her made her body want to run to the tall woman’s embrace. To hold her and be held by her until her wounds had healed, until her soul returned.

“Yes…” she whispered.

The woman chuckled and stroked Y/n’s cheek. She closed her eyes feeling the warmth wrapping her in a tight embrace. Her touch felt like something she thought she could only feel in her dreams.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Toby ran to her side and grabbed her arm.

“I'm a little dizzy that’s it” she smiled taking the boy’s arm “I’m alright” She turned to her side one more time but the woman was no longer there.

“Quickly. Bring him both at the examination dwell!” Ordered Vendel.

Blinky lifted Barbara and carried her. Y/n left go of Toby and ran next to her mother.

A/n: why i choose liability is beyond me hshshs when i saw it there I laughed like ??? hello?? let’s pretend it was a great choice. I’m really glad I was able to make it!!! If you saw my last post let me tell you i have a happy update!! My dog is fine!! He has pancreatitis but overall he is fine. He is eating and walking and being the diva he is!!! Also here is mother’s day so happy mother’s day 💖🎉

[familyabolisher]

can you elaborate your thoughts on 'the bear' show? i keep seeing it all over my dash and it looks interesting but i wanna know what to look out for since you said the politics isn't handled well.

having now watched all of the second season—a major problem sticking out to me is that the show can’t quite decide what tone it wants to strike. in season one, you had these dream sequences intended to communicate carmy’s [in]ability to process his feelings about michael, spliced with an otherwise v realist tone—but the show never really leant into either consistently using a surrealist external world to represent something internal to a character or going straightforwardly realist. season two has, eg., a moment where syd sees the text on the rapidly generating tickets change from table orders to like “fuck” over and over, and, like—it’s the same thing again, it’s the use of an obviously not ‘literal’ physical space communicating the mental headspace of the character whose perspective we briefly occupy, but, like, the show can’t quite commit to the tone that this slightly trickier technique demands, so it just feels awkward and clumsy and like a cheap way of communicating a character’s internal state. i thought the bit in season one where carmy dreams he’s on a cooking show that goes horribly wrong was really tonally effective and an excellent segue into the rest of the episode, but, like, they just kind of pull this conceit out when they need it and ignore it when they don’t. and i wish they’d try to do more with it! shit or get off the pot.

the dialogue is also just … pretty weak at points. there’s a lot of like, characters launching into anecdotes as a technique of exposition, which … i can put up with once or twice, but when it just keeps happening, i can’t help but think of it as lazy writing. season 2 also seemed to spread itself far too thin; we have different episodes dedicated to different secondary characters, which if handled well could be effective—the idea is that they’re a team, that everyone contributes something and everyone has to pull their weight, and we spend time with each individual before seeing how it all comes together at the end. that did kind of half-land in the final episode, but on an individual level, the episodes just weren’t tightly constructed enough for any one storyline to feel complete. tina and marcus in particular felt … underused, underdeveloped, i feel like i barely have more of a sense of their characters than i did at the end of season 1. marcus’ episode especially felt incredibly flat; we learnt (through Dialogue Exposition) about his relationship to his terminally ill mother, which i think worked well enough, but other than that, the process of learning new baking techniques felt half-assed and lacked any real tension, will poulter’s character was completely forgettable. glad we got some pretty shots of copenhagen, but like, what was the point.

ideologically it sucks lol. there’s a chef who’s fired for doing drugs which the narrative is v much fine with, there’s pithy comments about people coming into the restaurant in groups and buying one thing so they can sit around, there’s … just no real sense of the ways in which restaurants are classed spaces, service work is a denigrated form of labour, hospitality is a v abusive industry … richie’s episode in season 2 focuses on him learning some nauseatingly bootlicky hospitality shit as a barometer of Character Growth to the point that i was laughing when i watched it because i couldn’t take it seriously at all. (there’s a line where a manager says that serving fine dining guests can be compared to looking after people in hospital in terms of the level of care you bring to the job … i guess that’s why they call it … Hospitality … and i was just sat there cackling. like, be serious.) there’s just no drive to interrogate the hospitality industry & how the impression of servitude and deference is built into the world of fine dining and what that means, no serious criticism of restaurant work beyond carmy’s flashbacks to chefs being abusive to him that become a discursive dead end when the show doesn’t develop them to tackle the nature of fine dining itself.

my final big problem is that it’s very thematically flimsy. the conceit of the show is that carmy has to interrupt his career as a fine-dining chef to come and work at michael’s v modest sandwich shop whilst emotionally processing his suicide—so it seems pretty clear to me that this would play with tensions between the culture of fine dining and that of a failing sandwich shop, right? like, clashes when the fine dining chef tries to bring fine dining techniques to the new place, in the end we all learn a valuable lesson about what we can all teach each other or whatever? and season 1 does do this, but even at the points where it seems to want to criticise the fine dining industry, by season 2 it seems to have pretty definitively joined the war on fine dining on the side of the fine dining. there’s not really a drive in season 2 to interrogate what it means to turn a neighbourhood sandwich shop into a fine dining establishment; how do regulars feel about this? what about the locals who might now be priced out of it? what about the question of gentrification? none of these are ever really brought to the forefront. in season 1, we got the sense that carmy’s fine dining world was sterile and alien where it wasn’t actively abusive, and the sandwich shop allowed him to escape that world—so why aren’t we asking questions about what kind of restaurant culture is really valuable, what really makes for good hospitality? even in a show that obviously doesn’t want to ask serious questions about restaurants under capitalism, there are all these little channels of negotiation that season 1 seemed to set up only for season 2 to let them drop.

so, yeah. i’m not convinced the show really has a strong sense of direction. season 2 felt very all over the place, and seemed to want to juggle so many things at once that it ended up not really landing any of them.

[regionalpancake]

Book Launch (not not featuring Discworld's Death)

I had a dream where I owned a bookshop, and local authors came in to do readings when they had a new book out.

Death (who is everywhere, and therefore local) had written a memoir about his time as one of the Four Horsemen. Turns out that War, Famine, and Pestilence were an infamously messy polycule, and Death was always on the sidelines just trying to do his job. Office romance/drama books are good business, so we’d booked him for the evening. The upside of this was that hospitals were having the best night of the year, with patients who should (by rights) be dead seemed to just… not be. This would later be chalked up as a ✨Holiday Miracle✨ by journalists who ought to know better, especially when you consider that our booking of Death was in all the local arts and culture listings.

So Death was sat in the reading chair in the kids section (the only place on the shop floor with enough space to put out our rows of folding chairs) and his audience around him were nodding seriously and taking notes as he read from the opening of “Fourth Horse, Third Wheel - Life on the outside of Creation’s messiest relationship”.

Local Annoyance, Kristine (who, if there was any poetry in the universe, would have be called Karen) spotted Death in the reading chair while she was walking past carrying her Christmas shopping. She did an about turn and stormed in to the bookshop in a flurry of snow, shouting:

“I’ve just about had it with these drag queen reading hours!”

“Can you please keep your voice down, ma’am?" I said. "We’re hosting a book launch.”

“No. You’re hosting a deviant! This is a disgrace. Think of the children!”

“Our guest author is trying to read,” I replied, people were turning round now to see where the angry shouting was coming from. “Also this audience is clearly college students.”

“That is not a college student!” She said, rudely pointing at one of our regulars, Mr Miller. Unlike the students, who looked disheveled in a highly curated way, Mr Miller looked authentically fucked up. He was here at every book launch, to warm up by the heating duct, and to fill the pockets of his elderly winter coat with food. He also helped out with peoples grad school application letters if they asked him to. A nice guy.

“And that drag queen” Kristine turned her attention back to the author, “is in the Children’s Reading Nook!”

“He’s not a drag queen, Kristine.” I took a deep customer-service breath, “He’s Death. Y'know, the Last Rider? His pale horse is right next to my flatbed in the parking lot. He rode here from the End Times. And speaking of riders, his says that the event space should be kept above 76 at all times, and you’re letting all the snow in.”

Kristine huffed spitefully and leaned back on the door. The wind outside sucked more heat out of the room. Mr Miller began to shiver. Death looked up from his book.

“That,” Kristine glared back into the void under the flowing robes, “is a man in a dress!”

I AM DEATH. Death said, folding his skeletal fingers over the open pages of the book. I AM NOT A MAN.

“Well you’ll never be a real woman, that’s for sure!” Kristine preened. “Doesn’t matter what lashes you slap on!”

I DO NOT HAVE EYES, KRISTINE. HOW DO YOU SUPPOSE I WEAR LASHES?

“How indeed! I just don’t think it’s appropriate to have-"

“Ma’am,” Mr Miller stood up out of his chair, “Will you kindly be quiet? I’m trying to listen to this nice young man’s polyamorous love story-“

“Polyamor- just you wait till my whatsapp group hears about this!” Kristine turned to leave and frowned at the wall of heavy snowfall. “I’ll just… wait here for an uber.” She plucked her phone from her bag and sat down in one of the folding chairs. A few students grumbled as her shopping bags dumped snow on their shoes. 

I closed the door and asked Mr Miller if he wanted his paper cup of coffee warming up.

Kristine grumbled at her phone, as if clicking the screen harder would make a difference. No drivers available in this weather.

I CAN GIVE YOU A LIFT HOME AFTER THE READING IF YOU LIKE, Death checked the clock. I’M SUPPOSED TO DO A PICK UP FROM HERE TONIGHT ANYWAY.

Kristine looked him up and down. “I’d rather die.”

AS YOU WISH.

“What did you say to me?”

I SAID WATCH YOUR STEP OUT THERE, IT’S ICY THIS EVENING. Death smiled and turned back to his book.

[solarmorrigan]

Find the Word Tag Game

Thank you @paperbackribs and @mentallyundone for including me! Most of these are from my Big Bang fic or my Top Secret Valentine's Day project, but there are one or two other things thrown in

My words from paperbackribs were talk, close, heart, suddenly, and realise, and my words from mentallyundone were heat, shut, insane, tight, and over

But first! Zero obligation tags (I'm sorry if I'm catching you twice): @emchant3d, @estrellami-1, @devondespresso, @tboyeddie, @spiritofcamelot, @ato-the-bean, @thestalwartheart, and @azure7539arts

Your words are: Clean, Bright, Dead, Dream, and Star

Rules: We all seem to be making them up a little bit, but so far it's boiled down to "search your WIP's (or any unposted works) for the words you've been given and post a snippet that includes them." Then, come up with some new words and tag everyone or no one or any number in between, it's like Little Caesar's in here

Now! My own answers below the cut:

Talk

“Okay,” Eddie says again. “Steve, is this normal? Like, do I need to get you to a hospital or something? Because I’m gonna be honest, you’re freaking me out a little.” If possible, Steve’s frown deepens at that. He opens his mouth, throat working, but all that he really manages to get out is another, “Hurts.” “I know. I know it does, sweetheart,” Eddie says, shooting for soothing. He reaches up and covers Steve’s hand where it’s still clenched against his scalp, apparently intent on yanking out his own hair, and manages to get him to let go. He weaves his own fingers through in its place, trying to apply pressure without pulling, without hurting. “I need you to talk to me, though. Please. I need to know if you need a doctor.”

Close

It goes quiet, and Hargrove leans in close, murmuring in his ear in a way that makes Steve shudder in revulsion, makes him want to writhe away, but all he can do is lie there as Hargrove asks him, “Who do you work for?” Steve’s mouth is dry and his tongue is thick as he tries to answer. “Scoops. I work for Scoops Ahoy.” Hargrove pulls back, and his grin is a feral slash across his face. “Wrong answer, Harrington.”

Heart

“Why no date, then, Stevie?” Eddie teases. “Waiting for the right person to ask?” Steve shrugs, glancing over at Eddie. “Maybe. Hey, you want these?” Before Eddie can address that “maybe,” Steve is holding out a small, heart-shaped box to him, deep red and tied with a perfect satin bow. Eddie blinks. His heart skips a beat. And then he falls back on the old standby: sarcasm. “You shouldn’t have,” he says drily. “I didn’t. Lindsey gave them to me, but I don’t really want them,” Steve says, shaking the box at Eddie. Almost automatically, Eddie reaches out to take the chocolates. “Is this proper etiquette?” he teases.

Suddenly

They sit in silence as Steve tries to figure out how to eat his burger without dribbling egg all over everything and as Eddie drowns his French toast in butter and syrup, and the food is good, but the atmosphere suddenly sucks. As much as Steve hates the idea of Eddie giving up something he wants just because Steve is there, he hates the sudden awkward silence even more. He reaches for something, anything, to break it. “Are peanuts really ruining the environment?”

Realise (I got this one on a technicality, because I spell the word with a 'z' like a heathen)

Because that’s another thing about being friends with Steve Harrington – Eddie isn’t at all sure they’re just friends. At least, he isn’t sure that’s what they’re going to stay. It had shaken his very foundation to realize, in less than an hour of really talking to him for the first time, even, that Steve is very probably queer. That he’s like Eddie. And that he might, in fact, like Eddie.

Heat

“Shit, man, why didn’t you tell me you were eating? I could’ve waited,” Steve says. “Seriously?” Eddie tosses him an incredulous look. “It’s pouring out. It’s cold. I wasn’t gonna make you wait. I can just heat the pizza back up!” “You can heat me back up!” Steve shoots back, and Eddie snorts into a round of surprised laughter. “What?” he wheezes, looking back over at Steve until Steve shoves him to get his eyes back on the road. “You know what I– I just mean that I wouldn’t have died if I’d had to wait an extra half hour, Jesus.” Steve rubs a hand over his face, hoping if he does it hard enough, that’ll account for whatever redness is currently rising in his cheeks. “I didn’t mean for you to put your shit on hold just to come get me, you know?”

Shut

Eddie’s hands are on Steve almost as soon as he’s across the threshold, even before the door is shut, grounding Steve back in himself, giving him a point of focus that isn’t the depressing assortment of memories skewed across his house or his own swirling anxiety. “You good?” Eddie asks, cupping Steve’s jaw and dragging his hands down his neck, his shoulders, his arms, before finally taking his hands. Steve shivers under the touch. “Getting there.”

Insane - Not found! But I did find one instance of "crazy," which is synonymous, if tonally different, so here's that:

“Okay, okay, so he picked up on you being a romantic, that’s great, but,” Robin holds her hands out in front of herself in an emphatic sort of ‘here’s the thing’ gesture, “where was all of this before?” “Right?” Steve bursts out, flinging his arms out in front of himself, narrowly avoiding knocking into one of Robin’s hands. “Thank you! I’m not crazy for wondering that!” “Of course you’re not,” Robin says, narrowing her eyes at him. “He didn’t tell you that you were, did he?”

Tight

The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence. “Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?” “Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.

Over

“Because Eddie is Harrington’s favorite,” Oliver says, both a tease and a statement of fact. Steve says nothing, but he does turn and give Eddie another little smile, wiggling the plastic cup at him. “Well,” Eddie says slowly, reaching out to take the pudding without looking away from Steve, “I was the one who invited him over in the first place. Only seems right.” “Exactly,” Steve agrees, though it’s a little too soft to carry. “Lame,” Jeff declares, even as he starts in on the uneaten meatloaf. “No, no, he clearly has some kind of social superpowers,” Oliver insists. “If we wait long enough, maybe he’ll spot people who secretly have crushes on us, too.” “I think I’ll just settle for his lunch,” Jeff decides.

[sammy-hammy]

hi! im also a big fan of angst and have been thinking of this tyler galpin x reader story (u dont have to do it if u dont want to)

spoilers for ppl who havent finished the series yet!

okay so, tyler and the reader are a couple and they were supposed to have a date. but it was one of those days where laurel controlls him or something(tyler himself knows hes the hyde by now btw). so he unwillingly misses their date(again, for numerous times). the reader decides to go home after a couple of hours and comes across the hyde and gets hurt badly. the next day when tyler decides to visit the reader to apologize, their guardian tells him that theyre in the hospital after a terrible accident. so he rushes to see them and realizes that he was the reason why shes in the hospital. a few hours later she wakes up and sees tyler and they both talk abt him missing so many dates that theyre convinced hes cheating on them. he tells them he isnt but the reader wants some space for now after the accident.

im so sorry if its long, i suck at summarizing

𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕪𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕕𝕒𝕪

tyler galpin has many regrets

losing you is his biggest one

[ tyler’s thoughts , time message, reader’s thoughts]

[ major spoilers for the show, cursing, reader wishing they died, not proof read]

their blood was on my hands

why?

why was it on my hands?

ugh

stop overthinking it

it was just a dream…

right?

the resident barista bit the side of his lip as he thought about his lover. he snapped out of his trance when a customer walked up to the counter.

“hello tyler”

“good afternoon, ms. thornhill! would you like the usual?” tyler tried focusing on the order instead of the building pressure in his heart.

they’re normally here by now

he bit his lip and glanced at the door while making the double-cap, no foam, two pumps of sugar-free vanilla coffee.

he set down thornhill’s drink and she gently grabbed his arm. she leaned in close and whispered into his ear. “good job yesterday, tyler. see how well you did after removing your distractions?”

tyler’s face morphed into one of confusion. “what? i don’t think i have any distractions..”

“well not anymore. with yn out of your life, you don’t have anything to worry about.” thornhill smiled as she squeezed his shoulder.

tyler felt his stomach drop. “wha-what? are they mad? what happened?” he pulled away from thornhill as his heart beat increased. “i don’t think i di- oh shit”

realization hit him like a truck.

he forgot your birthday,

which meant he forgot your date.

again…

“my phone, my phone! do you still have it? why didn’t you give it to me yesterday?” tyler’s breathing became slightly erratic as other customers as the weathervane started staring.

“i just want what’s best for you and silly distractions like your phone and yn get in the way.” thornhill said in an obnoxiously sweet tone.

yn isn’t a distraction..

“now calm down, people are staring.” she set down his phone and walked away with her drink.

tyler picked it up and practically sprinted to the break room.

7 missed calls and 13 unread messages..

shit

he quickly checked his messages as his breathing went unsteady.

4:37 hey tyler! don’t forget about dinner at 6:30!

5:45 hey ty. are you on your way? just call me when you’re close.

6:02 never mind. i’ll just meet you at the restaurant, ok? be safe!

6:24 hey ty. are you on your way? i’m already here

6:33 i’m at the table, it’s towards the back

6:45 ty they’re starting to ask for our orders, please hurry.

6:56 ty please answer. i don’t think they’ll give us more time

7:04 ty?

7:17 never mind. i’m going home

7:20 i’m tired

7:21 this is such a stupid cycle

he felt his heart clench

7:22 sorry for wasting your time

you never wasted my time

7:23 i hope your happier with her than you were with me, for her sake

tyler dialed your number almost immediately with his shaky hands.

it went straight to voicemail.

he tried again.

same results.

fuck

he quickly threw off his apron and ran out of the cafe. he risked getting fired for abandoning his shift, but he didn’t care.

you were the one thing on his mind.

he bit his lip while getting into his car and subconsciously made his way to your house. once he reached your house he stepped out of his car and ran to your front door with his heart still beating rapidly.

the door opened before he could even knock. he locked eyes with your teary eyed elder brother.

“oh um. hey jeremy, is yn here?” your brother stayed silent as his face changed into disgust.

“you tell me galpin. you were supposed to be with them last night.” he dug his finger into tyler’s chest. “they tried coming home alone but they were attacked. all because you pathetic excuse for a boyfriend couldn’t care any less about my sibling, your supposed lover.” tears built up your brother’s eyes.

tyler’s heart couldn’t stand this much stress. “i-i didn’t know.. jeremy, please. i am so sorry! are they ok?”

jeremy scoffed. “stay the fuck away from my sibling, galpin. you clearly don’t care. if you did, they wouldn’t be in the hospital. but they are, so stay away before i do something i won’t regret.” your brother slammed the door in his face.

hospital?

what happened to them last night?

damn it

i should’ve been with them

why wasn’t i with them?

tyler was lost in his thoughts as he walked back to his car. he got in and set his hands on the wheel for a solid 30 seconds.

…the dream

what was it again?

ugh this hyde is messing with my memory

i have to get to them

he started his car and drove to the hospital as fast as possible.

the dream

it was about yn..

he tried remaining calm as his hands tightened against the wheel.

it had to be a dream

i wouldn’t let myself do that

he reached the hospital and walked in trying to steady his breathing.

“can i help you?” the receptionist questioned.

“yes! um where is yn ln’s room?” he answered quickly.

“room 13 to the right.” he handed him a visitor’s pass and went back to typing on his computer.

he dashed to the hallway and anxiously looked for your room.

it was just a dream

i would never do that to them

i love them

tyler’s eyes widened at his own thoughts.

love…?

he stood in front of your door.

yeah, love

he carefully opened the door to your room and his heart stopped.

you lied still with bandages covering your entire chest, a large bandage on your cheek, and your right arm in a cast.

no

no no no

this is all wrong

he walked over to you and gently held your hand. tears pricked his eyes as he kissed your palm. he sat on the chair beside the bed and stared at you with a worry written expression.

i couldn’t have

i wouldn’t…

he glanced at your bandages and he knew.

i should’ve listened to my dream

guilt washed over him.

god, i’m so stupid

your heart monitor was able to drown out his sobs.

“i love you, yn. i love you so much.” he whispered and wiped away his tears.

he laid his head on his arm and caressed your hand. he stared at your resting face as if you would disappear if he didn’t.

the sun was beginning to set and he was starting to feel the exhaustion from staying up all night.

he stayed staring for a while before his eyelids got heavy. he was eventually overtaken by sleep, yet he still clung to your hand.

ugh my head is killing me

you opened your eyes to the dim lighting of your hospital room. you tried lifting your hands to your face but the pain stopped you from doing so.

you winced as you looked at your body but your heart dropped when you glanced at the boy holding your hand.

tyler jolted awake while breathing heavily. you glanced away before he could make eye contact.

“why’re you here, tyler?” you asked as you stared up at the ceiling.

“i just wanted to see you” tyler felt his voice get caught in his throat. “i’m sorry, yn. i’m sorry i’m so sorry. i should’ve been with you.” he held your hand to his face and tried to make you look at him but you refused.

“if you didn’t want to be with me you could’ve just said so.” you took deep breaths as you started feeling the scars that creature had left. “you’ve missed so many of our dates. it’s embarrassing for me.”

“yn please i never meant to-“

“never meant to what, tyler? cheat?” your eyebrows knitted together as you finally looked at him. his eyes were bloodshot and they maintained a pleading look which made your breath hitch.

you resisted the urge to comfort him because it wasn’t your right anymore. “you’ve been so distant lately and it seems like you don’t even care about me anymore.”

tyler’s eyes became watery once again as he clutched onto your hand. “yn, i do care about you.” he gently set your hand down and cupped your cheek. “i love you, yn. i love you.”

a tear ran down your face as you looked away. “don’t say things you don’t mean, tyler.”

“yn, please… i love you more than anything.”

“stop it.”

“you’re the light of my life.”

“tyler, stop.”

“i love you, yn. just please listen.” tyler begged as you finally tore your hand from his.

“just stop!” your face was now wet with tears as you faced the boy you love.

“i spent my birthday alone while you did whatever with that woman. you didn’t bother to respond or at least tell me you couldn’t make it.” tyler stayed quiet.

“i could have died…” you wiped your face with your hand. “i kind of wish i had.”

“you don’t… you don’t mean that. yn you don’t mean that.” tyler denied as his tears fell freely.

“just leave, tyler. i don’t want to be with you anymore. i just can’t anymore. you clearly don’t love me. you might as well leave and be happy.” you continued to cover your face with your arm. you didn’t want to see his expression as you broke up with him.

“y-yn please. i just…” he felt desperate knowing he was losing the love of his life.

“goodbye, tyler galpin. i’m sorry i wasn’t enough for you.” you held back a sob as you heard him get up.

“i’m gonna fix this. please just… stay alive. if not for me, then for your family.” you stayed silent, afraid that if you spoke you would release the emotions you were holding back.

you heard him walk towards the door before stopping. “i love you yn ln, more than you can imagine.”

[lemonthepotato]

Songs I associate with each Enneagram type (but I’m bad at typing):

One:

I don’t think I can say this

Carnivore - STARSET

Finders Keepers - Riproducer

World So Cold - 12 Stones

Alright, you ones have been getting too many unironic entries. Time for mockery.

World Around Me - Escape The Fate

Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing - Set It Off (Accidentally chose the acoustic version) (me momen)

Rock Bottom - Grandson

Molly - MSI

Oh No! - MARINA (I know I’m shit at typing but how is ‘Don’t need money, don’t need fame’ 3?? PDB is wilding)

Sorry if I put this elsewhere, but Hope Of Morning by Icon For Hire. I originally took this as a 5, 6 or 9 song when analysing it, but I had an epiphany; it’s 1 coded. Let me explain. (“My mind’s a kaleidoscope, it thinks too fast, blurs all the colours til I can’t see past, last mistake, the choice I made, staring in the mirror with only myself to blame.” Black and white thinking, self-hatred. “Sometimes I’m afraid of the thoughts inside, nowhere to hide inside my mind. I’m scared that you’ll compare and I’ll look like a lifetime past repair.” High standards, worries about being a bad person. “Self-disgust and selfishness tend to hold me awfully close, but I don’t want my friends to see that, I don’t want my friends to know.”) (I’m on the fence about this typing) (I feel like I might be trying to type every song I can, which isn’t how this works. While I Will Not Bow by Breaking Benjamin seems 853ish to me, like, I don’t associate it strongly with 8, so it doesn’t belong in this list. Same with a lot of other songs.)

Two:

Where Has Everyone Gone? - James Marriott

It Should’ve Been Me - Riproducer (“But I’m unsure of my intent. Surely my fragile hospitality would shatter under the stress.”)

Painkiller - Three Days Grace (I know it’s a fucking metaphor, before any smartahs try to correct me.)

You know I have so few 2 songs when I have to resort to Helluva Boss fansongs that are maybe semi-official now

UwU Song - Rikutzu (Idk I don’t have any 2sungs)

This song is sx2 core. (UM HELP??? I put the wrong song here, but I have no idea what the one I meant to put here was. THIS IS SUCH A FUNNY MISTAKE THO)

Sticks and Stones - The Pierces (sx2) (“I’m the one you want.” “But you get scared when we’re alone, like I might suck your blood.” “Love me more than anyone.” “Can’t undo my spell on you.”)

Jericho - Celldweller (this is such a so2 song, and let me explain!) (“self-importance amplified.” “you’re looking down, and feeling so profound. you’re so impressed by your false humility.” “an unhappy ending to your sense of deity.” “you’re so oblivious to your own frailty.” “an unhappy ending to the life you’ve glorified”)

Three:

Witness - Mindless Self Indulgence (relate as a disintegrated 6 tbh)

Copycat - Circus P (“I say everything you like to hear… I can’t remember who I am… I’ve become what you like”)

Why Not Me? - Set It Off

Good Enough - atsuover (“Why would I continue being me, when better people are all I see?… put on your mask and get up on your on your way, they love you anyway”) (suppose this could also be 1)

Scary World - Night Club (ooo3 ooo3 ooo3) (edit: not sure if I’d type this as a 3 or 4 song?)

You’re Dead - Norma Tanega (“Plan all your moves in advance.” “There’s too much work to be done.” “Don’t ever talk with your eyes, be sure that you compromise.” “You’ve sold out your dream to the world.”)

Theatre - Icon For Hire (“I’m getting pretty good at feeding them the lines they like, but I don’t recognise the girl that I see each night.”) (6 fix btw) (I’m just using this as an excuse because I keep neglecting the 3’s)

EVERYTHING - LuluYam (“I wanna be everybody’s dream.” “I want to be everything.” “A king, a lord, an emperor, a god. A fake, a fraud, a phony, oh my god. Don’t crack through my facade. Don’t crack through my facade!)

Fake it - Seether (“Who’s to know if your soul will fade at all? The one that you sold to fool the world.”) (“Fake it if you’re out of direction, fake it if you don’t belong here. Fake it if you feel like infection.”)

Pretty For You - Baby Bugs (okay, this could be 2 or 9 too, but it’s kinda sx3 for me, imo)

Ghost rule - DECO27 (Not putting lyrics up, I don’t speak Japanese and am relying on rough translations)

Insecurity - Girls Love Shoes (This song is SOOOO 3 core) (“What are they thinking of me?” “I just want to stand out, I just want to fit in” > w4.)

Four:

Happy Hurts - Icon For Hire (“Can we let the pain and happy mix?… If I had to pick between the way that I am, and the way that everyone else seems to pretend, I wouldn’t question it, not even for a second”)

Identity - Grandson

Skeleton - Set It Off

Get Well II - Icon For Hire

Sugar And Spice - Icon For Hire (“Wouldn’t you rather be broken than boring too?” Seriously, such a 4 song.)

Feel Better - Penelope Scott (“I don’t wanna feel better, no one’s ever gonna love me like that again… I don’t wanna get over it, I wanna get under it instead.”)

Pyrite Girl - Riproducer

Hurt - Get Scared (“How do you think I’m alright? And I like the way you hurt inside.”)

I Can Only Be Me - Mars Argo (“Try to take my identity, and I’ll just create a new one.”)

Only Be A Story - Icon For Hire (core fear)

4w5 moment (no I’ve never played Touhou)

Iodine - Icon For Hire (“I think I’m just in love with the feeling” “Crazy is I believe the medical term, for when we wanna recover, but don’t wanna learn.” “I say I wanna be happy, but I quickly forget. Will I sabotage all the good I’ve got left? Depression’s like a big fur coat, it’s made of dead things, but it keeps me warm.”) (9 fix btw)

4w3!!

Won’t Forget - Dabu

Pretend You Love Me - Baby Bugs (“And sometimes I wonder if I didn’t hurt so bad, would I be more lovable to my mom and my dad? And if I went back in time to see six year old me, I’d say this shit does not get better, this is who you’re meant to be and I’m a monster, so you say, and I do this on purpose anyway. I need to feel this pain.”)

Devastation And Reform - Relient K (Disintegration to 1) (“I feel like I was born, for devastation and reform. Destroy everything I love and the worst part is, I pull my heart out, reconstruct, but in the end it’s nothing but a shell of what I had when I first started.” “But they’re’d be no story, without all this dissension. So I inflict the conflict, with the utmost of attention.”)

L’assasymphonie (from MLOR) (For the same reason as Ghost Rule, I won’t put the lyrics up)

The Abandoned Castle Of My Soul - The Gothic Archie’s. Do I need to explain this? Lol

Pain - Three Days Grace.

Five:

Lateralus - TOOL (“Overthinking, overanalysing, separates the body from the mind.”)

Dream Your Dream - TryHardNinja (Ok look, I know there’s a type probably more suited for this song but I’ve been neglecting the fives.)

The Sun, The Moon, The Stars - Aether Realm (I have no justification for this)

Echo - CrusherP

Anonymous - Three Days Grace

Jail Time - Chloe Adams (“Jail time, living in my head.” 5w4 core.)

Hounds - Puma Blue

The Fool - Aether Realm (no idea what this songs actually meant to say but considering it’s called ‘the fool’ referring to the fools journey and mentions knowledge like 2ce it’s 5core.)

The Grudge - TOOL

Am I Supposed To Apologise? - Maria Mena (“I sought understanding clarity and truth, by baring all the wounds inflicted on my youth.” Literally 5w4. Maybe 4w5. In case it isn’t obvious, I’m pretty bad at typing songs.)

Can’t Get Out - Dabu

5 with a 4 fix. Yeah I didn’t say all these entries would be serious.

Breakdown - Lacuna Coil (“Shutting myself off, getting numb inside.” “I can’t stand the noise outside.” “Even if you think I’m fine, I’m still damaged, I stay out of sight.”)

Mind Is A Prison - Alec Benjamin (I’m at the 100 link limit) (“Sometimes I think too much.” “I’m always stuck in my head.” “Guess my mind is a prison, and I’m never gonna get out.”)

Everybody’s Watching Me - The Neighbourhood (“Uh, oh, where can I go? Everybody’s watching me.” “I go through all the trouble of keeping it within my walls. I try to be as subtle as I can. Assume that nothing needs me, all I’ve done defeats me.”)

Feels Like A Wish - Station K (sx5) (“You made my dreams come true.” “Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, from my mind. How can I escape, from this irresistible place?”)

People Watching - Air Traffic Controller (I originally typed this as a 9 song, but it’s soooo 5.) (“Hiding in secret from us all? Who can you trust, who will you call?” “You see the world while locked inside.”) (heavily 9 fixed with a slight 4 fix, too)

Imaginary - Evanescence. I called this the “most 9 song ever.” Yeah, uh, no, it’s the most 5 song ever.

Six:

Nightmare - Set It Off (“And all I know is that I don’t feel safe… but am I losing my mind?”)

Curse Or Cure - Icon For Hire (“Oh I swear my emotions are the enemy… I’m afraid I can’t trust myself, don’t leave me alone”)

Killer In The Mirro - Set It Off (“Never let your guard down… cause I know if you could switch this, you’d be dishing out the same shit… now I know, there’s no one I can trust.”)

I’m Made Of Wax Larry, What Are You Made Of? - A Day To Remember (“Everybody’s out to get me”; yep that’s my entire justification)

Misguided Ghosts - Paramore (“See I’m tryna find my place, and it might not be here where I feel safe… would someone care to classify our broken hearts and twisted minds so I can find someone to rely on, and run to them?”

Fear And Loathing - MARINA (Congratulations, if you’ve ever put this song in your vent playlist, you’re a 6 or 6 fix. :))

Culling Voices - TOOL (“Disembodied voices deepen my suspicious tendencies. Conversations we’ve never had; imagined interplay… heated altercations we never had, yet I’m guided by them all…. misleading me over and over. Judge, condemn and banish anyone and everyone, without evidence, only the whispers from within.” E6 blueprint.

Hearts A Mess - Gotye (6 blueprint. Actually 5 too.)

Beneath Me - Lucid Planet

JUST FORGET THIS IS A Y’KNOW SONG PLZ

I was gonna type this as 1, initially, but it’s more 6core

Paranoia - A Day To Remember (it’s literally called paranoia like-)

The World Is A Very Scary Place - The Gothic Archie’s (this could also be 5)

Diseased - Baby Bugs (4 fix go brrrr haha)

In Between - James Marriott (“It’s out of the question, it’s over the line, to not be phased, to just be fine.” “How nice it sounds to have your guard down and nothing in between.”) (694 tritype because this is the most 9-ish 6 song ever.)

Pretend - Ursa Major (“My mother said don’t feed the strays, they’ll break your heart and run away.” “What if I second guess again? And listen to the worries in my head?” “You promised me you wouldn’t leave, and boy was I naive, I should’ve never let you in my yard.”)

A sp6 and an unhealthy so2 walk into a bar.

Wired For Worthless - Citizen Soldier (“Pull you in, push you away.” “A brain built by every memory, of times I was not enough to make the ones I love wanna stay.” “Love is a lie, hope is a hole, trust is the trap that took my soul. Family is fake, hatred is home, getting abandoned is all I know.” “A brain built by every memory of times I was vulnerable in vain, which just proved that I’m never worth the pain.)

Dizzy Paranoia Girl - VocaloKAT (so613) (“Expectations high from the start, I’ll just mess it up. Congratulations, you fell apart, f- I messed it up.” “Thoughts racing up and down, oh what to do now? Follow protocol.” “Panic all around, but never make a sound.”) (lol when this song came out I kinda forgot it cuz I couldn’t make the lyrics out, until today when I remembered it existed)

Seven:

Killing Harmony - Mcki Robyn’s P (I first listened to this song with no context. If you try to do the same, you’ll understand.)

Sugar Crash - ElyOtto

Using You - Mars Argo (ok some people are saying this is a 2 mistype and maybe but idk it gives 7 vibes.)

Ruin My Life - Hollywood Undead (I love stereotyping)

We Are One - 12 Stones

Borderline - Toke Styrke

Happy Pills - Weathers (Come on. I’m allowed to stereotype a little.)

7w8 731 moment

Weak And Powerless - A Perfect Circle (I’m not trying to stereotype, I’m just saying this song captures the ego-structure of an E7 trying to escape their shame over addiction through more addiction.) (You might say E8, however, the whole coping mechanism of E8 is denial. I don’t think an E8 would identify with being weak or oppressed, but that’s a generalisation)

Anytime You Smile - JT Music (We Happy Few is 7 coded anyway lol) (“A little rain and clouds will never bring me down.” “I know we’ll get through it.” “Believe me, if I’m dreaming, I wanna keep on sleeping.” “I don’t quite like myself when my head’s not in the clouds.”) (I unironically love this song tho and idk why, cuz it’s the type of song I would hate regularly lol. Maybe it’s the fact it’s… not ironic? Tongue-in-cheek? You’ll understand my point if you know the plot of WHF.)

No One Can Tell Me - Girls Love Shoes (I originally read this as an 8 song, but I see this as a clear 7 song)

Eight:

Loose Cannon - Set It Off (Yeah this is almost entirely stereotypes. Don’t really care though.)

I Didn’t Ask For This - Beth Crowley (I wanted to type this as counter 6 but I knew I’d just be bias cuz I’m a… probable SX6.) (I don’t believe in subtypes anymore) (no I won’t elaborate lol)

Catch Me If You Can - Set It Off

Power & Control - MARINA (except maybe the line about vulnerability but PDB thinks so so it must be right! Man, I love having outside unreliable sources confirm my beliefs! Call me Fox News.)

Discord - Eurobeat Brony (fear being controlled) (8w9 ish due to wanting peace) (an excuse for me to tell you the ORIGINAL song is better.)

White Rabbit - Egypt Central (“I will not be used.” “It’s the reason I chose to cut my losses. Your lies fool no one.” “We’re falling and we’re losing control.” “I won’t be pushed aside, I will be heard. I will get what I want, what I deserve.)

SAHARA - Ivycomb (“Lost in this desert and I’m looking for freedom.” “On my own, I’ll make it.” “I’ll take it by fighting the coldness inside.” “There’s no one to call my friend, but the burden’s feeling lighter without their things.” “But I quickly take my leave and I refuse the aid.” “No one can hurt me if I’m walking all alone. They can’t desert me if I’ve already turned to stone.”)

K All The Enemies - Mario Judah. (“Bring the rage. I will not let you control me, I will not let you betray me.” “Ignite the fire in me, I will not furthermore be controlled.”) (also, 6 fix.)

FACE IT - NOTHING MORE (“Shed this doubt, stand your ground.” “A man is born, and the boy has died, face it.” “You’ll never get to me.” “I’m on my own, silencing the angels in the better part of you.” “I am your gut, I am the truth. I am the power in you.” “Gotta face this on my own.”)

Nine:

Reflection - TOOL

IN MY MOUTH. Really, you should’ve seen this coming.

:) you know exactly why

My Demons - STARSET

Circles - KIRA (“Circles and circles, I look around, I go around, looking for something that cannot be found.”)

This song also describes the 3-5 years I didn’t leave the house and couldn’t even get up. Huh? Oh, that’s a… joke. Haha… (“I don’t want to know what’s waiting for me outside. I’ll make myself disappear. Tell me I should face my fears, but it’s so dark and cloudy in my room. I’m a sunflower who can’t bloom.”)

Still Here - Difitial Daggers (10/10 spelling) (Amazing)

Begin Again - Dabu

Cemetery Blues - LuLuYam (“Why does everybody else seem to know me better than I do?” “Don’t want no damn special attention.” “The way I see it, why do I try at all? Maybe I don’t need to. Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I’m dramatic and I can’t make up my mind.” “Try to be an optimist and I don’t wanna lose.” “Just another spectre in the graveyard.” “Cause the mask that I’m wearing is a safeguard, and the face underneath is holding back hard.”)

All The Fish Will Be Floating - Rusty Cage (“Apathy is a dangerous tool. Too much of empathy will make you a fool. Apathy blinds your eyes from everything.” “And I ain’t choosing no more, and I ain’t losing no more, and I ain’t winning no more. And I ain’t sinning anymore. Ain’t doing nothing anymore. I ain’t nothing no more.”)

Language Of The Lost - Riproducer (I literally can’t quote the lyrics rn because genius is lagging)

Spanish Sahara - Foals (I have to explain this one. “So I walked into a haze.” >The E9s forget about self. “Forget the horror here.” >escapism, a common E9 coping mechanism “I’m the fury in your head. I’m the ghost in the back of your head.” >again, loss of self, but also repressed anger. “A choir of furies in your head.”)

Don’t worry, I get accused of having shit taste all the time. I know what you’re thinking.

No I’m excluding the Enneagram album because I don’t like it. Uh… kinda blunt. :( I just don’t know how else to say it.

If you want to listen to any of my playlists: 1, 2, 3, 4

Edit: Making a new version

Edit 2: I might just update this one

Edit: didn’t include it, but whoever typed Bullet by HU as sx4 when it’s the most obvious depressed 7?? Also, hey, what would y’all type Darkest Part by Red? It fits a so3 character of mine, but I actually have no clue.