#this was way longer than i meant it to be

[vivwritesfics]

Series masterlist

You had never given him your address, so dinner was forgotten about. You never brought it up again, and neither did Oscar.

Until you were sitting at the vanity in your childhood bedroom, amelia watching as you got ready for the day. "Mama," whe began, the bench beneath you moving every time she swung her legs. "When is Oscar coming over for dinner?"

You stopped with your makeup the second the memories of asking him came flooding back. "I don't know, 'melia," you answered honestly, putting your foundation down. "But we'll ask him today."

Your daughter was a wild child. You couldn't control her. The second Oscsr entered your line of sight in the park, wearing his workout gear, Amelia ran towards him. Still holding Coopers pram, you couldn't catch up with her.

But you didn't need to worry. Oscar hugged her and held her hand, walking her back towards you. "My mummy wants to know if you can come to ours for dinner," she said.

No, Amelia was meant to ask, not ask for you. But that was exactly what had happened. Your eyes were wide as you looked at Oscar. He matched your expression.

But then he crouched down, meeting Amelia's height. "I'd love to, 'melia," he said and held out his hand, high fiving her.

***

It hadn't been easy to convince your mother and brother to leave for the night. With embarrassment written on your face, you confessed that you were having someone over for dinner.

A friend, just a friend. Yes, the friend that you, Cooper and Amelia met at the park. No, it's not something romantic. Yes you will kick him out before 10pm so they can come back.

Your brother was laughing at you as he and your mother left the apartment.

Getting all three of you AND the apartment ready was no easy task. You got amelia dressed, sparkly shoes and cute little bow in her hair. You put Cooper down to sleep and left his baby monitor on the kitchen counter, listening for him.

The ingredients for dinner were left out on the side, a bottle of white wine accompanying it.

Just before seven, there was a knock on the door. Amelia held your leg as you pulled the door open, revealing Oscar.

White shirt and jeans. It was a simple outfit, but it worked so damn well on him. You swallowed, holding back to inappropriate whistle you were ready to release and stepped aside to welcome him into your mother's apartment.

It was a little embarrassing. Single, with two kids, living in your mother's apartment. You didn't hide that fact from Oscar. It was the circumstances life had thrown that way, and you weren't going to let it hold you back.

Oscar sat at the table as Amelia showed him the crafts she had done at nursery. "And at Christmas we can make decorations! I wanna make something to put on grandma's tree!"

Oscar grinned as he looked at her paintings. "Would you make something for my tree, 'melia?" He asked and she nodded.

"Yeah!"

You laughed at your place at the stove. Every time Oscar asked if he could help, you shook your head and sat him back down, fingers lingering on his chest for longer than you meant for them to.

You picked up the baby monitor and listened for any noise from Cooper. Nothing. Your baby was fast asleep.

Plating up the foot, you sat opposite Oscar. You talked between bites of food, learning more about each other. It was more details than you'd discussed in the park, more intimate details.

About his childhood. His dreams (although he kept it brief). His family life, living in Australia, going to school in England. It was all so interesting.

After dinner, you put Amelia to bed. She was reluctant, making you use the stern mum voice. Amelia huffed as she got into her pyjamas. But she hugged you and climbed into bed.

Grabbing your glass of wine, you led Oscar over to the couch. He sat beside you and placed his own glass on the coffee table.

Tucking your legs beneath you, you sipped your wine. Oscar swallowed and asked the question that had been playing on his mind. "What happened for you to be living with your mum?" He asked, adding a quiet 'if you don't mind me asking'.

Your mother didn't even know what happened. Your hand shook as you put the glass down, looking back towards the hallway, to the room Amelia was sleeping in (your oldest brothers room had becomes hers for when you stayed over. Perks of giving birth to the first grandchild).

"Amelia's dad was an asshole," you muttered, folding your arms over your chest. "He was sweet all the time I was pregnant with Amelia and Cooper, but things changed the moment I gave birth. The shouting and screaming, spending all of the money I had saved to take care of my kids while I was out of work-" You didn't go into details about the worst bits. "-I knew I had to get out of there. So, I came to stay with my mother."

For a moment, Oscar was quiet. "Yeah," he agreed. "Sounds like an asshole."

You released a weak laugh. "Thank you for agreeing to this," you whispered, moving slightly closer to him. "Amelia really likes you."

"Is she the only one?" He asked it so fast, you almost didn't hear it. But you moved closer, pressing your lips against his cheek. When you pulled away, his cheek was stained with lipstick. You moved to wipe it away, but Oscar caught your hand, stopping you.

***

It was just before ten when Charles Leclerc escorted his mother back to her apartment. "She's fine, mama," Charles said as he pushed his key into the lock and twisted it. "She's a big girl now."

He opened the door and let his mother walk in. The apartment was quiet, but that was to be expected. You had kicked your date out, as you agreed, and Cooper and Amelia were asleep.

The kitchen was a state, not yet cleaned up after dinner. Pascale blew out the candle on the table and walked forward.

A gasp left her lips as she walked into the living room.

There you were, lips pressed against your dates cheek. But she knew your date, as did Charles.

"Oscar?"

[xobunni0]

𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

౨ৎ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡.. what started innocently. over time grew more deeper, more personal, and attraction was undeniable.

- E.T is HIS song, a man that yearns is a man THAT EARNS!!, giggling while writing this, once again he’s a sweetheart, 𝐰𝐜- 1526

𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥…

the halls of the facility were silent, with the hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional distant beep of monitors. you moved carefully clutching the stolen clearance card in one hand. the night shift was low tonight, but if anyone caught you.. there’d be no way to explain what you were doing

finally, you reached the heavy steel door that led to where he was being kept. with a swipe of the card and with a soft beep the lock opened. you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in and slipped inside

the dim lighting of the containment room made you feel even more uneasy. seated in the far corner of his glass enclosure was Shadow. he sat with one leg stretched out, and the other bent, his back resting against the wall. his eyes were closed but the moment you entered his ears twitched ever so slightly, and his gaze moved to you.

“risking a lot just to see me again” he said, his voice low and smooth but with the faintest hint of teasing

“yes.” you smiled, stepping closer to the glass barrier

his expression softened in a way that only you ever seemed to see. it made your heart skip a beat every time. he stood and approached the glass, stopping mere inches from where you stood on the other side

“are they suspicious?” he asked, his tone now more serious

you shook your head. “not yet. but I can’t stay long. If they catch me-”

“they won’t.” his voice was firm. his hand hovered near the glass and instinctively you mirrored the action, your fingertips meeting the cold glass that separated you

“I hate this” you whispered, “I wish I could do more. I hate sneaking around like this.”

Shadow’s gaze never left yours.

His smirk returned, faint but there. “You do plenty. more than anyone else would dare.”

the warmth in his voice sent a flutter through your chest, and for a moment.. the severity of what you were doing did not matter. in this moment it was just the two of you.

“time’s running out” you said hesitantly, glancing down at your watch

shadow’s faint smirk faded, “Then go. Don’t get caught.”

you hesitated, your eyes locking with his.

you stepped back from the glass slowly, your hand lingering against it for just a moment longer. “I’ll be back” you promised

“I know” he replied, his voice softer now

your hand was on the door when Shadow’s voice stopped you.

“Wait.”

you turned back. heart pounding, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. he stepped closer to the glass his movements slow

“I want to feel you” he said, his voice low

you knew what he meant. “Shadow…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I trust you” he said, the tone in his voice cutting through your fear. “If anyone can do it.. it’s you.”

you hesitated for only a moment before nodding. you had been on the edge of risk for weeks, but this… this was crossing the line. and yet you couldn’t deny him. not when he looked at you like that

quickly, you turned to the control panel beside the glass. your fingers flew over the keys, entering codes you weren’t supposed to know. you had spent countless nights memorizing the system just in case a moment like this ever came

the hiss of the containment seal breaking startled you both. the glass slid aside, revealing Shadow standing there. his presence overwhelming now that the barrier was gone

for a moment, neither of you moved. then slowly he stepped forward. his crimson eyes searched yours, as though waiting for confirmation that this was real

you reached out first, your fingers trembling as they brushed against the soft fur of his chest. the contact sent a jolt through you both and Shadow let out a breathy sigh

“Warm” he murmured, as if surprised

Shadow’s other hand came up hesitantly. his gloved fingers brushing against your cheek. his touch was gentle

you let your fingers trace along his arm, his fur soft under your touch

you leaned against the cold metal wall, your heart hammering. Shadow moved closer his crimson eyes scanning every inch of your face , taking you in completely.

“You’re trembling” he said softly, his voice carrying none of its usual sharpness

you hadn’t realized it until now, but your hands were shaking. the adrenaline of what you’d just done was coursing through you and the risk you’d taken started weighing heavy.

“I’m fine” you lied, your voice uneven

Shadow stepped even closer, his towering presence blocking out the harsh glow of the lights overhead. he reached out his gloved hand brushing against your cheek softly

“Don’t lie to me” he murmured

the concern in his eyes broke you completely.

“I’m just… scared” you admitted, your voice breaking slightly

Shadow’s hand moved to cradle your face, his touch warm despite the coolness of his gloves. “You don’t have to be.”

his words were simple, but enough to melt your fear. his had been building between you for weeks, months…

without thinking you leaned into his touch, your eyes closing shut. his gloved fingers moved gently along your jawline his touch so soft and tender. when you opened your eyes again his gaze was locked on yours.

“Shadow…” you whispered, your voice trembling for an entirely different reason now

he leaned closer, his other hand coming to rest against the wall beside your head caging you in. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes” you said without hesitation, the word falling from your lips too quickly

“Then let me show you what freedom feels like.”

the space between you was no longer there as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. the kiss was cautious at first, as if testing the boundaries. but when you tilted your head to deepen it his hesitation melted away.

his big gloved hands moved to the small of your back pulling you closer, and you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, clinging to him like you would lose him if you let go.

no alarms, no guards, no glass keeping you apart. it was just the two of you, pressed together in the dim corridor. sharing something that puts everything on the line… but was so good.

when the kiss finally broke, you were both breathless. Shadow rested his forehead against yours his eyes half-lidded.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper

you smiled, your fingers tracing the edge of his quills. “me too.”

Shadow’s crimson eyes lingered on yours, his hands rested lightly on your waist, his touch something you didn’t know you needed so bad. for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“You don’t understand what you’ve done for me” he said softly, his voice rough. “For so long… all I had was the glass. All I could do was watch you… memorize every detail of you from a distance. Your voice, the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you liked. I lived for those moments.”

your breath hitched at his words, your chest tightening. Shadow’s thumb traced a soft circle against your side

“You were my only connection to the outside” he continued, “Every time you came to see me even if it was just for a moment. but.. it was never enough. I couldn’t reach you. Couldn’t feel you.”

“Shadow…” you whispered

he reached up brushing his fingers along your cheek, his touch slow. “But now, you’re here. You’re real. I can touch you, hold you, feel your warmth.”

you placed your hand over his pressing his palm to your cheek.

his hand slipped from your cheek to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer. “You’re more than I deserve” he murmured. “You’ve risked everything for me.. and I don’t even know how to begin to tell you what that means. your brave, kind…”

he paused, his voice faltering for the first time. “and so beautiful.”

before you could respond he leaned in, capturing your lips in another kiss. this one was deeper, more intense, soaking in every minute of it now that the barriers between you were gone

when he broke the kiss, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you” he said softly.

for the first time... a small genuine smile curved his lips, softening his sharp features. he held you closer, his big arms wrapping around you as if he was afraid you might slip away

“You’ve given me something I thought I’d never have” he whispered

you buried your face in his soft chest, your arms tightening around him.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ⏦ﾟᢉ𐭩 - 𓊆ྀི𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𓊇ྀི [𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰] 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[yolothh]

Viktor really meant the "in all timelines, in all possibilities" line BECAUSE IT'S OUR TIMELINE TOO! THEY EXISTED!

Please take a moment and let me introduce you to: Giacomo Leopardi and Antonio Ranieri's partnership.

Leopardi was an italian poet, author, philosopher and philologist. He is an important figure in Romantic literature (albeit, he did criticize the Romantic worldviews).

All throughout his life he suffered from a debilitating chronic illness (juvanile ankylosing spondylitis) that had him suffer horrendously from a young age, until it eventually took his life in 1837, when he was 39 years old.

He dedicated most of his life to studies, translating old tomes, writing poems and treaties diverting on humanity's degeneration from our glorious past to our suffering present. He exhorted modern folks to take action against the unjust present, aiming to a revolution of our pitiful condition.

In 1827 Leopardi meets Antonio Ranieri a young man that is described (verbatim) as a "very young and handsome in person and spirit".

Ranieri had been exiled from his city during his youth, because of his excessively liberal views in regards to politics.

The two become very close friends, but it's in 1830 that their "partnership" (literally, not making this up, Ranieri himself wrote a book about it if you care to check it out "Seven years of partnership with Giacomo Leopardi") starts. They move together from Firenze to Naples and Ranieri attends to Leopardi's every wish (noted that this man was a fanatic for sweets) paying with money from his own pocket.

Now, friendship at the time was different than what it is now, and they might’ve been very close friends, yes. But I'll give you some words from their letters and what Ranieri wrote down in his book and leave it to your judgment.

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

Ranieri, Naples, 1833:

"I- left my own bed- used to sleep in a room that was not mine (scandalous at the time) to sleep by his side"

Leopardi, Florence, 1832-33, from when they got separated because Ranieri needed to tend to some family issues:

"My Ranieri, you will never abandon my side, nor will your love for me grow colder. I don't wish for you to sacrifice yourself for me. In fact, before anything else, I strongly wish for you to take care of yourself first: whatever you choose to do, you will do it so because we live for one another, or I know that I do for you; my last and only hope. Farewell, my soul. I keep you close to my heart, which in both possible and impossible occurrences, will forever be yours"

Leopardi, Florence, 1832-33, on someone making a joke out of Ranieri for staying by Leopardi's side:

" [...] Oh, my Ranieri! When will I get you back? I won't stop trambling until I'll recover this immeasurable love, until I know it's true. Farewell, my soul, with all my spirit's strength. Don't get bored of loving me"

And more:

"Ranieri of mine, I need not say that in every way you wish, I will be there with you (...). My resolution has been so for a great time now: that I will never be parted from you. Farewell"

In 1833, Ranieri sends a letter where he says he intends to set off to get Leopardi and go live together in Naples, to which Leopardi answers:

"My Ranieri, will this [letter] reach you in Naples still? I must warn you, I cannot live without you no longer, I'm overtaken by a morbid impatience to see you again, and that I am sure that if you will be late, I will die from the malencholy of not having you still. Farewell, Farewell"

Ranieri, on the landlady that took them in in Naples:

"She revealed this: that I had introduced a consumptive in the house: that, loving him so much as to stay up at night by his side, there could be no reason I could not do that as well in mine own house"

--

So now, take it as you will- because maybe I am way too much of a nerd about this stuff- but I can't read ANYTHING Leopardi and Ranieri related without seeing Viktor and Jayce. I will gladely add more in the future.

--

Addition! If you want to watch/read on them (but mostly Leopardi, which is a catch) I STRONGLY advice you:

Leopardi. Il poeta dell'infinito - I don't personally love it but if you want more on them, thats the place

Il giovane favoloso - AMAZING movie

Canti - by Leopardi, it is a collection of poems he wrote and I think it is absolutely useful to understand his marvelous mind and character

Sette anni di Sodalizio con Giacomo Leopardi - the one I mentioned before, written by Ranieri on his time with Leopardi

[revelboo]

The Cassettes just taking full advantage of the situation

Alcohol Eyes Pt 8

Rumble x Reader, Frenzy x Reader

• Cheek on your outstretched arm, you listen to the brothers arguing about someone named Soundwave. Their leader? Desperately wanting a shower, but not sure if you can sneak off since Rumble has his servos wrapped around your ankle. So far he hasn’t let you out of his sight for longer than a few minutes. And you never did get your coffee. Rolling and sliding off the bed, a hand immediately snags your wrist. “I need a shower and coffee, baby.” You tug against Frenzy’s grip watching him frown. Because the minute he’d let you know he didn’t like the nickname, it had just been cemented in your head. Letting go, he and Rumble exchange a look. And you’re not the least bit surprised when they follow you to the bathroom. And your shower definitely isn’t meant for three.

• You’d lost that sheer covering at some point, and Rumble growls when you bend to fiddle with a handle until water’s running, realizing it’s a wash rack. The space ridiculously small as he follows you in, relaxing into the warm spray. And then Frenzy is crowding in, too, sliding to the wall so you’re trapped between them, laughing. Your amusement spilling into him, because you and this was something he never thought he’d have. Knows there’s not many left their size anymore and bigger Cybertronians tend to look down on them. Literally and figuratively. Tipping your chin up, his mouth brushes yours. “Love that laugh,” Frenzy murmurs, his own mouth on the side of your neck.

• Feeling you squirm between them, Frenzy slides his palms down your sides. Delves between your thighs just to make you gasp into Rumble’s mouth. Growling soft encouragement when he delves a servo inside you, letting your ride his palm. “You boys don’t believe in giving someone any recovery time,” you whisper against Rumble’s lips, words ragged. And then Rumble pushes you back into Frenzy, spike rubbing against your belly as Frenzy’s own is trapped against your lower back.

• “You can take more,” Rumble growls, helm brushing your forehead, but you hear the question in the aggressive words. Asking. They really are trying to kill you, but what a way to go. Fucked within an inch of your life. Fingers worming between you to find his spike, you gently tug and he growls. Frenzy’s hands sliding to your hips to lift you with casual strength. And then Rumble is pressing into you, pinning you against his brother. “Come home with us,” he groans, hips moving urgently, that thick spike driving relentlessly. Hear Frenzy’s back and shoulders hitting the tile with every hard thrust, feel him undulating against your back, rubbing his own spike against you. “Stay.” What would that be like? No more crappy job, no stress, just playing spouse to two horny aliens.

• Can’t make himself add the please, to beg, but he wants to. They could claim their own habsuite, spend every klik off rotation discovering one another. Can even let Frenzy stay with them, you’re so small, you’d be safer with both of them looking after you. Sharing. Hips pumping as your heels dig into him, he brushes his mouth over your face. And those need darkened eyes he’s starting to love open. “Okay,” you moan and he completely loses control, rutting against you hard and fast. Mouth claiming yours as he pins you against Frenzy, shoving his brother back against the wall as he grinds against you. Venting raggedly on a groan as he comes inside you. Unable to really believe he’s being allowed this. You.

• Grinding against your soft skin, Frenzy’s servos tighten on your hips. Only just met you, but taking you home? Keeping you? Primus, he’s all aboard with that plan. Shuddering as Rumble lazily thrusts against you, he whines and grips your shoulder in his denta, grinding until he overloads against you and you lay your head back against him. Catches that grin on Rumble’s face and knows he’s grinning, too. “Told you the club was a good idea,” he growls shakily at Rumble, letting his own head fall back against the tile.

Previous

[theorderisgone]

ꕀ ﹒Claimed in Comfort

PAIRINGS // ITOSHI SAE X GN!READER

SUMMARY // Sae’s cool demeanor crumbles as he quietly revels in the sight of you wearing his jersey, a simple yet undeniable reminder that you’re his.

CONTENTS // drabble, fluff. wc: 206, unedited

Itoshi Sae wasn’t one to gush over anything—he had a reputation to uphold. Cool, composed, untouchable. But all of that went out the window the moment he saw you in his jersey.

It wasn’t just how it draped over you, oversized and soft, the hem brushing your thighs like it belonged there. It wasn’t even how his name and number stretched across your back, as if announcing to the world that you were his. No, what really got to him was the way you looked at him when you wore it. So casual, so natural, like you were meant to.

“Stop staring,” you teased, glancing at him over your shoulder.

“I’m not staring,” he lied, though his intense gaze betrayed him.

“You are,” you grinned, turning to face him. “What, don’t like it?”

He scoffed, stepping closer, his fingers brushing the fabric at your shoulder. “Don’t be stupid,” he muttered, voice lower than usual. “You know I do.”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Oh, so you adore it.”

His ears turned red, but he refused to look away. “Maybe I do,” he admitted, his hand slipping to your waist. “Got a problem with that?”

“Not at all,” you whispered, pulling him closer.

And Sae, for all his composed demeanor, thought to himself—if you kept wearing his jersey like that, he might never recover.

author's note // hihi !! so sorry this one is really short. the next one will be a lot longer i promise.

[hcneymooners]

IDK IF MY OG ASK GOT SENT BUT it my bday today hehe i would rlly love an sfw fic w ambessa.. any trope/storyline would be great cus i love anything u write hehehehehehe

⋆ let me see you and stay.

wife!ambessa x wife!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: it's your birthday, which means it's the most important day of your life—and ambessa's. after all, this is the day that the love of her life was born.

cw: age difference, older woman/younger woman, soft!ambessa, fluff, modern au! this is a drabble. notes: happy (belated) birthday to you, my angel girl. i love capricorns so much, and i adore you in general. this is short, but i didn't want to make you wait any longer! i hope this fills with you all the love and warmth you deserve. giving you a million kisses and a huge hug. i hope your day was perfect, mama.

your birthday had never been something you held many expectations for. you simply woke up, blinked gently into the new day, and found that you were older.  

this meant that, to celebrate you, ambessa had to plan carefully. you were a clever, meticulous thing and would’ve told her that it was all too much. but she also knew you needed it. too often, you were torn away from her and the people you loved, your feet traipsing across the globe with barely a moment to rest.  

it didn’t help that your birthday fell during the busiest season of the year. people became trapped in the suffocating whirlwind of the holidays, and by the time your day arrived, they were tired, forgetful, slow. messages trickled in around noon, long after the morning had already left you sad. you’d learned to cope by sleeping late, letting the hours pass you by until the world remembered.  

but with ambessa, it would be different.

she had decided this from the moment she met you—that evening at an art gallery, when you’d mentioned in passing that you’d tucked another year under your belt and had decided to take yourself out. the way you glanced at her, wide-eyed and melting into your opulent evening gown, had stayed with her ever since. she’d known two things then: that she would only ever love you this deeply for the rest of your life, and that she would do anything to please you.  

the past few weeks had been a headache of coordination, a collaboration with only the best. the grand celebration was set for later that evening, but the morning was hers alone to give you. your phone sat in her office, plugged into its charger and safely away from your anxious hands. she didn’t want you repeating the ritual of tapping the screen awake only to meet the stillness of time and belated notifications.  

the sun crept into the room silently, like a child sneaking into bed with their parents. ambessa hadn’t opened the curtains fully, letting the light filter in gauzily through the fabric. beside her, your body rose and fell in soft rhythm, your hair pillowed around you, errant curls kissing at your cheeks and mouth.  

she turned toward you carefully, her movements measured. leaning in, she began to press soft kisses wherever she could reach—your forehead, the nape of your neck, the delicate line of your spine, the tender curve of your chest. your body stirred beneath her affection, and she watched your eyelashes flutter like birds as you slowly began to wake. 

she didn’t rush you, only gathered you into her lap as she leaned back against the headboard.  

you were beautiful, curled into her, your hands in loose fists near your chest. younger than her by far—a scandal she had endured with unflinching resolve—but now she could see time leaving its marks on you. the faint stretch of skin along your hips, the softening of your nose, the deepening lines near your eyes. she adored all of it.  

you had upended her life, burrowed into her heart so completely that she knew she could never purge you. as if she would ever want to. to kiss your mouth, to feel your skin, to hear your voice—it had renewed her faith in life, in people, in the possibility of a beautiful life.  

a low groan escaped your lips, breaking her reverie. you stretched lazily, kicking out your feet, and she bit back a laugh. the bed was large enough to save the cake on your nightstand from disaster—a towering confection of pink and cream, its two tiers bedecked with the finest details.  

you blinked up at her, your semi-nakedness a casual thing. it wasn’t sexual—just a preference for sleep, one that let your skin breathe and your body rest.  

“good morning, sweet girl,” she murmured.  

you smiled, all teeth, and she felt her resolve crack, the force of your joy like a hammer against stone. she would surrender time and time again, if that meant you would always be happy. 

leaning down, she kissed you softly, as if afraid you might break. you deepened it, pulling her closer, and when you finally parted, she nuzzled your cheek.  

“happy birthday, baby.”  

you bit your lip, bashful but pleased.  

“thank you, bessa.”  

your gaze shifted to the cake and the sea of gifts below it, piled in a messy, extravagant display.  

“ambessa…”  

“quiet,” she interrupted, her voice firm but teasing. “you can’t send anything back. half of these are from mel, and the rest are from me. kino baked the cake.”  

“you are devious,” you teased, pushing gently at her shoulder.  

“yes,” she agreed without hesitation.  

your laugh filled the room, bright and free, and she descended on you with a playful vengeance, her hands finding your stomach and feet. you squealed beneath her tickling, helpless and gleaming with joy. eventually, she relented, shifting you carefully as she moved to retrieve the cake. setting it between you, she watched as you took it in with wide eyes.  

“it’s perfect,” you whispered, the candles casting soft shadows on your face.  “thank you, baby.”

she drew you close, her lips brushing against your hair as you leaned forward to blow them out. the flames wavered and died, leaving only the faint scent of smoke curling into the air.  

“what did you wish for?” she asked, her voice low.  

your gaze found hers, bright and glittering like jewels.  

“what i always do. i only want to always be your girl.”  

silence fell between you. in the distance, your phone began to ring, but ambessa made no move to retrieve it. her eyes shone, suspiciously wet, and her hand tightened on your hip.  

“i don’t know how i lived before you,” she said softly, “or what i would do after—if—”  

you cut her off, dipping a finger into the cake and pressing it to her lips.  

“you know what?” you murmured, your voice like velvet. “i used to be scared too. but not anymore. what’s the point?”  

she offered you a piece in return, and you took it, savoring the sweetness. your eyes fell on the ring on her finger, the one that matched yours in size and shape. 

“you and me?” you said after swallowing. you gazed at her, and the love within it was relentless. “we’re it, honey.”  

© hcneymooners.

[ubeb0nes]

HCs for Sevika w/ an oral fixation

Ooo baby this one is sin

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This one is based off a hc by @justhereforsubsevika !!! Thank you for the sevi brainrot food my friend 😫

cw: smut. (mostly) bottom!sevika (TEEHEE)

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Those are some of the prettiest, most captivating lips south of Noxus. They were meant to always be wrapped around something; or, parted and filled until she gagged.

She is an absolute munch. She'd live between your legs if you'd allow it. Morning wood? No, morning munchies.

You wake up every morning, without fail, to Sevika peppering your skin with kisses. You can tell sleep is still clinging to her mind like it is yours, because her kisses fade in and out with minute pauses when she nearly falls back asleep for a moment.

And yet, she's still kissing down your body, lingering to lavish your lower stomach with special attention before she rises back to kiss under your ear.

"Can I have it, baby?" She'll ask in a morning voice that could have Janna herself laying back and spreading.

Her fingers are busying themselves teasing the hem of your underwear, and are deftly ripping away the damnable boundary once you emphatically say yes.

She'll always give you those begging eyes while she goes down on you, as if pleading with you for even more of your essence down her throat. She can never have enough of you. Her mind melts away when you're between her lips, all she can comprehend is you, your taste, and how you fall apart in her mouth.

Eating you out is by far her favorite past-time, she would say it's a hobby of hers even, but it's more than even that; it's literally a passion of hers. Sevika daydreams about your pussy, eyes glazing over mid-workday as she traces out your clit in her mind.

MUNCH

Once you two are together, she can't even masturbate without something resembling your pussy with her. In her mouth, specifically.

You get Sevika the custom-made fleshlight as an anniversary gift, handing it to her with a giggle (mostly bc you'd wrapped it in a way where it was very obvious what it was).

"Please make sure I catch you using it," you murmur in her ear with a groan, palming her cunt through her pants to drive home your point. And if bby can do one thing, it's follow orders!

On the night that Sevika first uses it, she gets home a little earlier than you do from work. There's rarely a night where she doesn't need to blow off some steam from dealing with the repercussions of Silco's blunders, or the general headassery of the Chem-barons.

You're not home yet, and she's particularly impatient. She takes the fleshlight out from the nightstand (with a strange sense of bashfulness lol), running her fingers gently over the replica of your pussy lips. She bites her lip, imagining your breathy moans at her light touches.

She lays down on her stomach on the bed, pillow tucked under her hips and propping her pretty ass even further up in the air. She holds the fleshlight with her mechanical hand in front of her face like she's laid between your legs, while the other pumps one of your longer dildos slowly in and out of her pussy…

Sevika doesn't know how she ever touched herself without it beforehand. Stars are shooting around behind her eyes as she traces her tongue over the perfectly-replicated folds of your pussy. There's something so painfully lewd- borderline humiliating- about what she's doing that makes her even more wet.

She loves it, she loves it so much and she's pumping the dildo even faster, her hips bucking as she sucks on "your" clit, eyes rolling back as she swears she can taste you. She can practically hear you cooing her ear, calling her a good girl while your hand strokes over her ass-

Oh, but you are cooing in her ear. And your hand's drifted down to the cock between her legs, taking control and slowing the pace down until she was whimpering. Big, strong Sevika, whimpering.

"Shhh, baby, it's okay, I'm here. Keep eating that little toy of yours out, keep being good."

The little moan of submission she gives shoots straight up your spine, and it takes all of your willpower not to fuck her silly with the dildo. You keep pumping it slowly, bottoming out with each stroke just to hear that restrained whimper in the back of her throat.

Sevika looked so good when you stepped into the bedroom, hips rutting against your pillow as she fucked into herself, face buried in your pussy. She was consumed by you, and it drove you absolutely insane.

You appreciate getting to see from a different angle how she looks when she eats you out. It's so clear that she's eating you out for her own pleasure (the fuckin' brat) rather than your own, as she practically makes out with the fleshlight.

Against all rationale, you're almost jealous. Then you remember, you're in charge.

"Enough of that. Lay on your back." And then, you're climbing up to sit on her pretty face (not without giving her a proper hello kiss first, ofc), leaning over her with a broken moan to continue fucking her with the dildo.

You'd think she hadn't had a proper meal in days with how loudly she moans into your pussy. Her hands clamp down on your hips, pulling you down to smother her face. And suddenly… you're not nearly as in charge as her tongue is.

"B-baby… please, wait, it's so much, oh!" You're whimpering as you rest your forehead on her stomach, your wrist lazily pumping the dildo in and out of her. It's funny how quickly that wicked tongue can break your more dominant spirit.

She won't stop suckling on your clit, muttering "so good, so sweet" in that fucked-out tone of hers that lets you know Sevika's gone. All that's in her place are her whims, all of which have to do with having you in her mouth.

She's pulling your third orgasm of the night out of you, which at that point your throat is raw from screaming and begging for more. You rapidly tap on her thigh, squeaking out a high-pitched string of "please"'s that cause her to release you with a pop.

That puppy-eyed look is back as you two readjust, with you laying back on the bed and her bracketed between your legs. "Was that good?" She asks, her mind still hazy, and sinking back into her subspace as you massaged her scalp.

"So good, Sevi," you praised. She smirked pridefully, dipping down between your legs to give your pussy a kiss. She laughs softly when your hips buck, and you push her face back with a whine.

"The real thing's still better," she says, reaching up to grasp one of your hands as her languid, loving kisses branched out.

[katsu28]

summer's golden haze - chapter five

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: a day trip to ibiza, a nightclub, and max—who can't keep his mouth shut. (5.3k)

a/n: apologies for the lack of new chapters these past few months! writer’s block is such a bitch but i’m happy to say that i am back and working on this series as best i can <3

previous chapter | masterlist

Everything people say about time flying when you’re having fun has never been truer. You’ve developed a close friendship with Lando and his friends, and something even better with the boy himself. 

You’d say you were surprised at how fast you’ve fallen for him, but you’d be lying. Sure, you haven’t known him long at all, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that Lando Norris really was that missing thing in your life. He slots in like he was meant to, just as you hoped he would. 

You’ve all found yourselves spending more time at their place than yours because it’s just nicer. Today is no different. 

Lando’s chin sits hooked over your shoulder comfortably, stubble on his face a little scratchy, but it doesn’t annoy you. Especially not with the way the thumb of his hand on your waist is rubbing circles into the sliver of bare skin between your top and shorts.

He’s warm to the touch, but not unbearably so, more like a comforting warmth draped against you as he nuzzles closer. 

He likes to be close to you, you've learned very quickly—more often than not always having some part of him touching you. Fingers intertwined with yours, an arm slung over your shoulders, a hand on your waist. When you're sitting, it's a thigh pressed against yours, a warm palm blanketing your knee. 

Right now, he’s decided on sharing the same sun lounger as you, wedged himself in behind you comfortably.

Normally, you might’ve been put off by the sheer amount of casual physical affection he shows, but you can’t bring yourself to mind it. You want to be close to him all the time too, you’re just taking a little longer to warm up to instigating it. 

“What’re you lot up to tomorrow?” He asks casually, walking his fingers down your arm. 

“Mm, nothing probably. Might just do a beach day and chill out. Maybe take a little walk, I dunno.” You shrug. “You?” 

“Flying to Ibiza for the day. My mate Martin’s doing a DJ thing at a club there, figured we’d go support a friend.” 

You pout up at him, cooing. “You guys are so sweet.” 

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Come off it now.” He rolls his eyes, pinching your hip. You squirm at the ticklish feeling, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. He perks up then, and you swear you can almost see the gears turning in his brain. “Would you guys wanna come with us? We could hit up the beach together, hit up Martin’s gig at night, then fly back here afterwards.”

“It’s a boys�� day trip, we wouldn’t want to crash it,” You insist, shaking your head. “We’ll see each other when you get back.” 

“But I’ll miss you.” He frowns, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“I think you’ll be fine.” 

He buries his nose into the crook of your neck, muffling his response. “No, I think I might die.”

It’s kind of sweet, you think, that Lando gets so pouty over not getting to see you for just a day. One might call him clingy, but you find it cute.

You attest it to the two of you still being in the honeymoon phase of your relationship, and it makes you happy, but something else gnaws at your stomach. You’re not even sure what it is. 

Before you can say anything, he angles his head towards the rest of the group, covering your ears gently before shouting, “Oi! We’re all going to Ibiza tomorrow, it’s been settled already. We’ll swing round yours to pick you girls up, then head to the airport.” 

He gets no objections from anyone, which you didn’t think he would, and it makes him beam. 

You try to see it from his perspective. Sun, sand, beautiful views. The two of you get to spend the day together on the gorgeous beaches of Ibiza. If you put aside your worries, everything sounds wonderful.

So why do you have this nagging feeling this isn't going to go as smoothly as Lando says it will? 

-------

It seems like you’ve just blinked and suddenly it’s the next morning and you’re heading into the hangar of a private airstrip.

The sun has barely begun to peek over the horizon, and honestly, you’re still half asleep. Most of your weight is leaned against Lando’s shoulder, who’s got a strong arm slung around your waist even as he chats away with his boys on the way in. 

You haven’t packed much at all, just a bag with a nicer outfit you can change into before going to the club. Lando insisted on carrying it for you, so it sits looped over his other shoulder. 

You aren’t sure what you were expecting when he’d brought up flying to Ibiza just for the day, but for some reason, the private jet your gaze lands on as soon as you enter the hangar has you a bit stunned for words. The unfamiliarity of your surroundings wakes you up even more as you ascend the stairs onto the jet. 

A long sofa stretches across the wall opposite you, sleek white leather to match the cushy armchair you’ve settled into. Elegant polished dark wood tables separate the banks of chairs, and there’s a fully stocked bar at the back. Even the lighting of the cabin screams money, not those awful dim blue lights on commercial airlines. 

This is the kind of thing you’ve only seen in movies, and now here you are about to enjoy a few hours on one with your very new, very rich boyfriend. It feels unreal, and honestly a little daunting.

Then in the back of your mind, you remember that this is probably just how his life is. Private jets and day trips to beautiful places, anything he wants anytime he wants it. 

It’s one of two thoughts echoing through your head through the whole flight, the second one being that you don’t belong here. You don’t ride along in chartered jets, or go on impromptu day trips to beautiful islands. This is all completely uncharted territory for you and it makes your stomach twist, but you’re able to just pass it off as being a nervous flier. 

Lando holds your hand, makes sure you’re comfortable the whole time, and that’s that. There’s no need to worry him about what’s running rampant through your mind. 

Thankfully, you fall asleep not too long into the flight, and you don’t wake up until you’re on the ground in Ibiza. From there, it feels like a whirlwind has taken hold of you. You’re put into a car, driving, driving, driving god knows where. 

Lando won’t tell you a thing, just kisses your cheek and tells you not to worry. And just when you think you’re at your destination, you’re squeezed into a golf cart that eventually drops you off at a seemingly private marina. 

A large yacht sits before you, pristine white and polished to perfection. Lando beams, holding his arms out to the side like a game show host. “Ta-da! Look what we got for the day!” 

You’re at a loss for words. When he’d agreed to a joint beach day, you thought you’d actually be going to…well, a beach. 

“How the fuck did you manage to charter a yacht on such short notice?” Maren asks, clearly disbelieving. 

Lando aims a look at her over his sunglasses, arching a brow. “What, like it’s hard?” 

“Don’t do Elle Woods. You can’t pull it off,” Samira chimes in, to which Max nods his agreement. 

“Everyone’s a critic nowadays,” Lando mutters under his breath, flipping both of them off. “Just get on the boat, dream killers!” 

Your friends seem to be taking it in a much better stride than you are, because they go exploring the moment they climb right on alongside the rest of the boys, chattering excitedly. You, on the other hand, have to take a moment after Lando helps you on. 

“So? What do you think?” He asks earnestly, rocking on the balls of his feet. 

“It’s gorgeous,” You admit, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t know you were planning on getting a yacht.” 

“Yeah, I got it so we could have the day to ourselves. Dock somewhere remote, swim and have fun without anyone else around. I know how important privacy is to you, and I wanted you to be able to relax today.”

It hits you like a heavyweight right then. Lando did this for you. 

Went through all these last minute hoops that probably cost a fortune just so you’d feel comfortable. It has to be the sweetest, albeit most outrageous, thing anyone’s ever done for you. 

You close the distance between you in two steps, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. The force of it makes him stumble back a little bit, but he’s quick to recover, nuzzling deep into the crook of your neck with a smile you can feel pressed against your skin. 

“That was one hell of a thank you,” He breathes. You shrug innocently and he laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Ready to have some fun?” 

Turns out fun means putting an anchor down just off the shore of some small island not too far away. The day is starting to heat up a bit, perfect for you and the girls to stretch out on the cushioned benches and soak up the sun whilst the boys mess around in the water off the back of the boat. 

You’re not sure how long you lay there, but you’re about ready to drift off when you feel something on your face. A drop of water hits you square in the forehead, another hits your cheek, and it makes you peek one eye open. 

Lando stands right above you, beaming down at you as he drips water everywhere.

“Hi. Water’s nice,” He says, shaking his hair out not unlike a dog would shake out its fur. Droplets spray all over you with the action, making you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily. 

You wipe the water off your face with an amused chuckle. “Yeah, I think I can tell. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“You should come in.” 

“Maybe later. My sunscreen might not be dry yet.” 

“I think it’s plenty dry.” 

You arch a brow at his insistence, suspicious of the mischievous smile curving his lips, the glint in his eyes. He’s got something in that mind of his, and you’re starting to grasp what it might be. You sit up, inching away from him as he creeps closer. “Stop it. Lando, no. Don’t even think about it!”

He flops on top of you gently, enough to make you roll your eyes but not enough to smother you. “Lovely place to have a lay, innit?” He says innocently, squinting down at you. 

“It was,” You groan dramatically, wrinkling your nose at the puddle of water beginning to pool around you. “Now I’m being crushed.” 

“Are you calling me fat?” 

“No, no, the words you're looking for are big and strong and handsome. Did I mention the word strong?” 

“Twice, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.” 

“Careful, or I might start to think you have a praise kink,” You joke. Though judging by the immediate blush that blooms across his cheeks and ears, you might’ve just discovered something about your boyfriend. “Oh! You—I didn’t mean it like—”

His lips press against yours before you can finish your sentence as if to deter you from finishing your sentence, and you forget what you were saying in the first place. You’ve found that this is usually the case any time Lando kisses you, any and all previous thoughts disappearing without a trace only to be taken up by one singular thing—him. 

“Get a room, you two!” Samira grumbles, bringing you back to reality. “Happy for you and all, but I’m trying to sleep over here.” 

Right. 

You’d forgotten you were laying right next to her. Evidently Lando has too, because he whines something unintelligible, face hot against your bare skin as he buries his face into the crook of your neck in embarrassment. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, giving Lando a pat on the back to make him get off you. He does so, but not without a pout. The quick kiss you press to his shoulder when you pull yourself into an upright position is enough to settle him. 

He tilts his head invitingly, eyes bright now. “Come swim?” 

“Is the water nice?” 

“It’d be nicer if you were in it.” 

“I’m serious, Lando! Is it cold?”

“Guess you’ll just have to jump in and see.” He shrugs, winks at you playfully before ambling away.

You can’t help but admire Lando as he walks away from you, broad shoulders on full display, muscles shifting as he stretches his arms high over his head. Moles dot the expanse of his back, and it makes you want to trace your fingers along his tanned skin like you’re playing connect the dots. 

You’re expecting him to head for the back of the boat, but he goes towards the ladder heading up to the roof of the boat. 

“Now what exactly do you think you’re doing?” You call after him, raising your hand to block the sun shining in your eyes. 

“Jumping off the roof!” 

“Are you serious?” 

“It’s totally safe! I’ve done it before,” Lando reasons, waiting until he reaches the top of the ladder to offer you a smile. Somehow that doesn’t make you feel any better about him taking a flying leap from that high. “Wanna give it a go?” 

The words fuck and no teeter at the very tip of your tongue, but he’s grinning so big, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t at least a little bit intrigued.

Jumping off the roof of a yacht into crystal clear waters isn’t something you’ve ever thought you’d do, but then again, you’ve been doing a lot of things you never thought you’d do on this trip. 

“If I die, I’m haunting your ass forever,” You warn. Once you’re up the ladder on your own, you accept his outstretched hand onto the roof as he leads you carefully to the edge, fingers firmly tangled with yours. 

“There’s no one I’d rather be haunted by.” 

He leaps, taking you with him before you can even think of a response, and for a few moments, you feel weightless, falling through the air with nothing but Lando’s hand to ground you. It feels less terrifying and more freeing than you’d thought. 

You squeeze your eyes shut just before you hit the water, keeping them closed as you sink deeper and deeper. Lando’s hand leaves yours, but you don’t panic. You let yourself float, reveling in the quiet of being underwater until you start to feel it in your chest, and only then do you push towards the surface in a flume of bubbles.

The breath of air you inhale once you get above water is refreshing, and you tip your chin towards the sky, taking in the warm sunlight with a sigh. You wipe away the water cascading down your face before paddling back towards the boat, where Lando is sitting with his legs hanging off the back of it, waving at you. 

“What’d you think?” He asks earnestly once he’s pulled you out of the water to sit next to him. 

“That was…exhilarating.” 

“See, I told you it was fun! Stick with me, baby, I’ll show you the world.” 

Somehow, you don’t doubt that. If you’re an example of playing it safe, Lando is the definition of full sending it, impulse and chaos behind a handsome face. 

-------

The day flies by, and before you know it, it’s time to head back to shore. Thankfully, the yacht is well equipped with a shower in the bathroom, so you’re able to freshen up nicely when the time comes.

Lando lets out a low whistle when you emerge back out onto the deck, eyes dragging down your whole body, drinking in the sight of you with his lower lip tugged between his teeth. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, makes your cheeks flame hot. 

“Damn, you’re hot, girl!” He grins, winking at you. 

“Stop it,” You huff, adjusting the strap of your heel. 

“What? It’s true! Can’t I pay my hot girlfriend a compliment?” He argues, looking absolutely giddy. “C’mon, give me a spin.” You roll your eyes but oblige, and he whistles again. “My god, I’m a lucky guy.” 

“You’re so ridiculous,” You chuckle, letting yourself be tucked under his arm as you make your way to join the rest of your friends.  

“If ridiculous means obsessed with you, then yes, I am ridiculous.” 

The place is only a stone’s throw away from the public beach near the marina and already bouncing when you get there. You’re expecting to fold into the crowd of people, but Lando skirts around it, heading for the very front of the giant area, towards the DJ box. 

Maren’s hand clamps around your arm, squeezing tightly. “That’s Martin fucking Garrix!” She hisses, jutting her chin towards the stage aggressively. “You didn’t tell us Lando’s friend Martin was Martin fucking Garrix!” 

“He didn’t even tell me, how was I supposed to know?!” is all you can utter back in response. 

You’re just as taken by surprise as she is. You’d have never expected Lando’s friend Martin to be Martin Garrix. It’s not a connection you would’ve made at all, but you keep forgetting Lando is actually famous. Of course he has famous friends. 

Martin gestures for one of the other people there to take over the set, swapping out to come say hello as soon as he spots Lando. Both boys sport identical massive smiles. 

“Mate, it is good to see you again,” He says earnestly, bringing Lando into a tight hug. “I’ve been meaning to make it out to a race! You look great out there, though.” 

Lando shrugs, enthusiasm flickering a little at the mention of work, but only for a split second. “Could be doing better, but yeah, cheers!” 

Martin’s eyes flick over to you and he must get the sense that you’re a little nervous, because his smile turns more polite. “See you’ve made some new friends. Nice to meet you all, I’m Martin.” Then he notices how Lando’s moved closer to be next to you and you’re sure he’s already got things figured out. “Enjoy the set! I’m sure Lando will take good care of you.” 

A few drinks in your system helps relax the knot of nerves sitting on your chest a significant amount, enough so to where you’ve actually started to enjoy yourself. 

Lando’s hands slide around your waist from behind to sit at your hips, chest pressed up against your back as his chin drops down to nestle in the crook of your neck. He moves with the beat and you find yourself following, guided by his firm grip.

It’s so easy to get lost in him. You want to let yourself get lost in him, let yourself sink back into him and let your inhibitions free. But you can’t. 

Anyone can see you right now, seeing as you’re not exactly in a private place. You’re tucked off to the side, partially obscured by Martin’s booth and entourage, but it wouldn’t be hard for someone to take a good look and recognize Lando, even with the smoke and flashing lights. 

It’s risky to stay like this, and you want to tell him that, but then his lips press against the skin of your shoulder tenderly and your brain nearly short circuits. Heat blooms where he kisses you, traveling up to your cheeks and down to your toes like you've just been standing too close to a flickering fire. 

It isn’t until his nose nudges in right behind your ear, and his warm breath fans across your heated skin, that you suddenly feel like you can’t breathe. The loud music dulls down into background noise to the pounding of your heart in your ears.

Taking a shuddering inhale, you wriggle free of Lando’s grip, mumbling something to him about needing air as best you can and taking off before he can figure out what’s happening. 

You squeeze through the crowd rather forcefully, just needing to get somewhere without people, somewhere quiet where you can catch your breath and calm yourself down. 

Somehow you find yourself back at the beach, throwing yourself down onto a bench and burying your face into your hands with a frustrated, strangled groan. 

You don’t even know what’s wrong. Everything is good—you’re with your best friends, with Lando, and you’re supposed to be having fun. So why do you feel like you’re not supposed to be here? 

The answer is a mystery even to you. 

Watching the gentle waves lap over the shore proves rather soothing, a repetitive back and forth that helps ease your mind just the slightest bit. Only a few people mill around at this time of night, and they pay you no notice. You’re free to drown in your own thoughts without any of them being any the wiser. 

Footsteps approach some time later. How long, you’re not exactly sure—wallowing in your own self pity feels timeless. The tips of a familiar pair of trainers step into your field of vision, and you make yourself let your gaze follow up to see the extremely concerned face of their owner. 

Lando doesn’t say anything when you meet his eyes, just holds out his hand for you to take. When all you do is blink at him, then he speaks. “C’mon, let’s take a walk.” He tilts his head over his shoulder, towards the beach behind him. 

“I can’t walk on sand in these heels,” You sniff, scowling a little bit. It’s a shit excuse, you know that, but you don’t feel like being very cooperative right now. 

“I’ll hold them,” He replies, toeing off his own shoes first. You give in almost too easily, slipping off yours to give to him and accepting his other hand up. His fingers immediately intertwine with yours, tugging you closer to him as you step into the sand.

You walk along the shore for a while before either of you feel like saying anything, and it’s him who speaks first. 

“Are you alright, love?” He asks gently. Rather than saying anything, you press your lips together. “C’mon, will you talk to me? Please?” His voice is so soft, so full of genuine concern for you it makes you start to feel bad. “I think it’ll make you feel better, instead of holding everything in.” 

“All of this—the jet, the yacht, everything—it’s a lot to take in,” You admit quietly, staring hard at the sand in front of you. “And I know you did it for me, so I’d feel comfortable, and I love how thoughtful you are when it comes to these things. But I…this is all completely new for me. Like, I can’t help but feel like such an outsider.”

Lando’s expression crumples. “Oh. I didn’t mean to—that wasn’t my intention. To make you feel like you don’t belong.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. It’s not you, it’s me.”

“This sounds like the start of a romcom breakup scene,” He says, then he freezes, brows furrowing. “Wait, is this—” 

“No! No, I’m not breaking up with you. I’m just…saying things.” 

“Okay.” He nods, looking thoughtful. “How can I fix this, how can I help with what you’re feeling?” 

You smile at him, grateful that he’s asking even though there isn’t anything for him to do about how you’re feeling. Putting it out there is already starting to help, actually. You were scared about your thoughts and feelings being cast aside, but Lando hasn’t done that. He’s nothing but kind and caring about it. About you. 

“I’m fine, Lando. Thank you though, you’re sweet,” You assure him, kissing his cheek. “Mind if we walk a little longer before going back to Martin’s set?” 

“We don’t have to go back,” He suggests. “We can stay here, go somewhere else, anything you want.” 

“I want to go back. It’ll be fun,” You say, nodding firmly. The action is meant to reassure yourself more so than Lando, but he’s the one who looks wary. 

His head cocks to the side, brows furrowing in gentle caution. “Are you sure?” 

“Positive. I’ll be fine, I promise.” 

-------

The jet is quiet on the way back to Greece after Martin’s gig lets out, with good reason. It’s late at night, bordering on very early morning, and everyone’s asleep except you and Max, who’s on the phone with his girlfriend.

Judging by the way Lando immediately found his way into your space as soon as you all settled in for the flight and promptly conked out not five minutes later, he's exhausted. 

You glance down at the boy currently snoozing away curled up with his head in your lap, one of your hands clutched between both of his. His chest rises and falls rhythmically in his sleep, long lashes fluttering against the tops of his cheekbones. 

Honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever been as content with someone as you are now with Lando. Even though things between you are still new, you feel like you really can be yourself without judgement around him too. And that talk you’d had at the beach has definitely lifted the weight off your shoulders a good amount.

Still, there’s something else you have to get off your chest. You turn your gaze on the only other person you can talk to right now, the one person you do want to talk to. 

Max ends his call shortly after with a quiet love you, see you soon, catching your eye with a sheepish smile as he sets the phone down on the table. “Pietra says hi. She’s looking forward to meeting you guys when she flies in.” 

“We’re excited to meet her too, she sounds amazing.” 

“Yeah, she is,” Max sighs. Then he squints at you, like he knows something is amiss. “Is everything alright? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.” 

You nod carefully, absentmindedly winding one of Lando’s springy curls around your finger. He exhales a little harder in his sleep when you let it bounce back into place but doesn’t wake up, just snuggles deeper into you. “It’s kind of a weird thing to bring up, but I feel like I have to ask.” 

“Anything, go ahead. We’re friends, aren’t we?” It’s actually reassuring to know that Max’s opinion on you hasn’t changed since you’d gotten together with his best friend. You’re still friends just the same. That thought helps you muster up the courage to say what’s been weighing on you. 

“Are you okay with us? Lando and I, I mean.” 

You aren’t seeking his approval or anything, you just want him to be okay with the two of you. Or maybe you are, you’re not really sure. Max is Lando’s best friend, his brother. Other than Lando’s family, who you can't even think about meeting one day without your stomach churning, he's the person who's known Lando best since they were kids. 

All these people, they’re everything to him, and it's important for you to know where they stand. 

Max smiles warmly, says your name in that same soft, gentle way Lando always does when you get unsure. “You’re exactly the kind of person Lando needs in his life. Someone away from everything he’s got going on, someone who genuinely cares for him the way you do. You’re perfect for each other, and I hope you know that.”

You swallow the lump rising in your throat, smiling at Max through eyes glossy with welled up tears. His blessing brings you comfort, even if you weren't looking for it. “Thank you.” 

“No, I feel like I should be the one thanking you.” 

Your brows furrow, head tilting curiously to the side as to what he means. “Me? What did I do?” 

“I know Lando’s filled you in about what’s been going on, so you know that he’s had a bit of a rough time lately.” Max says softly, clearing his throat to rid himself of the emotional thickness in his tone. You can tell how much Max really loves and cares for Lando. “He’s not been himself for a while, so this summer break, this trip, it was something that might help him leave it all behind. Just relax and find himself again, ‘cause it wasn’t good for him, bottling it all up like he was.” 

Your heart aches for Lando. You can’t help but want to protect him. It was true when you’d been just friends and only grown truer since. 

“I wasn’t sure if it was doing him any good, but then we met you, and I swear to god I haven’t seen him smile this much in ages. He’s been so happy, so in love, it’s been—shit, I don’t even know what else I can say other than thank you. You’ve made my best mate himself again, and…I think I owe you everything for that.” 

You know there are other parts of his sentence that you should be paying attention to—being the reason Lando feels like himself again, making him happy—but only one thing echoes at the very forefront of your brain. “He’s in love with me?” 

Max’s eyes widen almost comically at the realization of what he’s just done. The juxtaposition of the heartfelt conversation you’ve had up until this point with the sudden exaggerated panic in his eyes would’ve cracked you up had you not been stunned by what he’d just let loose. “I really need to learn how to keep my fucking mouth shut.” 

“Lando told you he was in love with me?” You press. You’d kick him under the table, but then you’d risk waking up the subject of your conversation. Max just blinks at you, probably trying to figure out a way out of this. “Max.” 

“Fuck, fine! Yeah, he told me.” You raise an expectant brow for him to elaborate. “Jesus, did you want a timestamp? He said, I think I’m falling in love with her.” 

“He thinks?” 

“Well, I don’t know! I’m not a mind reader, am I?” He huffs. Upon seeing your brows furrow, he sighs. “But if I could read his mind, I’d say yes. I’ve known Lando…shit, I dunno, ten years now? And I’ve never seen him like this with anyone else before. You’re special to him.” 

“He’s special to me too,” You say softly, stroking a thumb over Lando’s knuckles gently. It should feel strange how much you feel for this boy and how strong those feelings are, but for some reason, it doesn’t. It feels exactly right. 

“I feel obligated to give you the usual ‘hurt my best friend and I’ll hurt you’ bit, but I know you won’t. You’ve been a great friend these last couple weeks, and I trust you with him. I trust that you’ll love him as much as he loves you. You do, don’t you?” 

You sigh, chuckling softly. “Figured out that one easily too, haven’t you?” 

“Please, I’ve known since the day you lot came round ours for the barbeque. And both of you are shit at hiding things, by the way. You’d be terrible spies.” 

“Thanks, Max. Seriously.” 

“For calling you a crappy liar? You’re welcome, I guess?” He’s only joking, but you know he knows what you mean. Max is a really good guy, a really good friend, both to you and to Lando. “And if he ever hurts you, loop me in. I’ll give him a proper beating for hurting my friend.” 

“Oh, I will. Avoid the face though, I kinda like it.” 

Max snorts, shaking his head playfully. “Yeah, he’s got a nice mug, that one. Real moneymaker.”

The moneymaker is drooling a little bit with his cheek smushed up against your leg, but you pay it no mind. He still looks good. 

He’s actually starting to look like your whole world, all wrapped up into one perfectly flawed human being. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new chapter :)

[treatbuckywkisses]

hello I am HERE :))

Still as alert as ever, the looming threat of danger is never something that will leave him; but he no longer needs to worry about being unsure of himself in this small bit of his routine. The cart appears right in front of him quicker than he expected, his walk seeming all too short when you’re not there to enjoy it with. - the subtle shift you've given him to be alert without being afraid is so so so so so personal to me

Everything seems to remind him of you. Lovely and nothing short of exquisite. It would be sinful if Bucky didn’t buy these– you’re deserving of something almost as telling of your effervescent glory. - I'm sick over this I'm going to think about this paragraph for DAYS

There was never a defining title placed on it, but hell if he’d let that stop him from claiming something so necessary for once in his damn life.  - this is so mushy :(( HIS GIRL im sick

Bucky could already die a happy man from the overwhelming thought of you, grabbing for the bouquet with the most precious of hands, smiling down at the soft peach petals then up at him with those eyes– like he just handed you the damn keys to every castle in the world. - this part is oh so soft to me and that is so very precious 

But you weren’t. And how was he meant to explain to a person he had no interest in revealing any part of himself to that his angel was the very strength powering the flow of the waters of the earth; the very life twinkling, lighting the night sky?– That reducing her to a “pretty special beauty”, while undeniably true for every commoner to see, was the closest thing Bucky could think to being an insult? -, paired with No. You don’t understand– she’s not… she isn’t a pretty special beauty. That’s lazy. Words can’t describe what it’s like lookin’ at her, bein’ near her. Bein’ looked at and loved by someone so divine. She’s not… there’s no preparin’ yourself for her. She is beauty. - is CRIMINAL YOU MAKE ME SICK HOW COULD YOU WRITE SOMETHING SO SOFT AND MAKE ME LIVE WITH THIS I am unwell and it's all your fault 

Maybe, his girl and all the violent thoughts he has surrounding her– how she’s the embodiment of radiance, the very definition of the most torrential depths of beauty– is just enough for Bucky. And he plans to worship the feeling of knowing your beauty for the rest of his days. - why are you doing this to me he is perfect :( 

His hand drifts up your side, caressing the figure he reveres as nothing less than shattering to capture your face. Bucky’s certain he’ll faint from the thrill of feeling you, from the need to keep tasting you– drifting, spinning, floating. It warms you both from the inside out, numbing the sound of the outside world and replacing it with the pulse of need rushing through your veins. It’s so good– forever needing more, more, more him.  - oh my God I need to be adored this way I'm so speechless this is literally just so perfect the ideal love :( mir 

Your writing is something so deeply personal and special to me I hope you always know that<3 you write so beautifully vivid and clear. The way you write bucky (especially in love) is so unmatched, nobody is doing it like you baby!!!!!! This is so mushy and soft absolutely the kind of love we deserve! Thank you so much for sharing this with me 🫶🏻❣️

I was just re-reading you deserve a soft epilogue, my love and this popped up on my pinterest home page:

https://pin.it/1gHYpch

and I thought if Bucky was roaming the farmers market by himself, these looked like the type of arrangement he’d get for you when he stumbled across them 🥰🌹🌸🌷🌻🌼💐 and if it’s in the beginning he’d be all shy giving them to you.

in layman's terms

beefy bucky x f!reader (you deserve a soft epilogue, my love AU)

warnings: slight angst, entirely too much fluff

wc: 2k!

a/n: this is the first thing i've written in months. i'm feeling a lot of emotions, i really thought i'd never share something on here again– but i'm thankful my brain let me think on the sweetest boy for a brief moment in time. and a special thank you to my Col for always encouraging me and being the best cheerleader ever <3

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

The uneven cobblestone streets seem just a bit more solid under Bucky’s heavy boots.

Walking swiftly through the once frightening streets of Bucharest, his careful gait grounds him steady along the known trek, and the low bun laced with your hair tie bounces against his neck as an annoying reminder of the heat– just a couple more errands and he’ll be home with you. A few loose tendrils tickle his skin as his feet briskly carry him towards a cart he remembers you stealing glances at, several times, during your countless walks together.

The smell of honey and loaves of fresh bread swirl by him as he strides past more meaningless produce and knickknacks alike, pondering why you’ve never asked to grab a quick bite and stop to actually admire the flowers now directly in his line of sight.

The crowding of somewhat blurry and familiar faces doesn’t seem to bother him the way it used to– no reason to cause him to cower, to keep his head down with the threat of being seen.

Bucky has you to turn to, to encourage him when he needs reminding of who he is. He has you to go home to. He never imagined walking so weightlessly.

Still as alert as ever, the looming threat of danger is never something that will leave him; but he no longer needs to worry about being unsure of himself in this small bit of his routine. The cart appears right in front of him quicker than he expected, his walk seeming all too short when you’re not there to enjoy it with.

The sun beats down on him with a cool breeze, kinder than it’s been in a very long time– maybe, that’s why a faint smile has been stretched across his lips since he left his apartment. Maybe, that’s why he doesn’t pay any mind to the kids playing a rough game of tag or the loud arguing of the people just behind him. He feels a calm kindness meant for him; Bucky breathes along with it.

The breeze follows his content steps and at the prospect of one of your “secret” joys– one where he finds himself alone and able to indulge in his own selfish desire of loving you–, the flowers and stems you always gleam at, bustling with their vibrant hues of corals and luxurious creams, immediately caught his eye.

The blush of the petals reminds him of the sound of your honeyed laugh; the ghostly whites nestled between an almost neon green array of garnish indulge him with the fuzzy feeling of melting inside your sweet embrace.

Everything seems to remind him of you. Lovely and nothing short of exquisite. It would be sinful if Bucky didn’t buy these– you’re deserving of something almost as telling of your effervescent glory.

Even now, walking alone, the small walkways between seas of overbearing people and bruised fruit now sound of only delicate fingers held tightly in his; of soft whispers nestled just behind his ear only for him to hear; of those hidden kisses teasing at his neck, crashing against the life of his pulse.

Bucky reaches for the arrangement without a doubt in his mind.

“And who might these be for?” the smirk rests playfully in the florist’s brown eyes before Bucky even notices someone standing right there, watching him. It wasn’t meant to be patronizing, but embarrassment and something naggingly familiar floods his chest. The sudden swell is all too warm and somehow, anxieties of being questioned by an unknown person aside, it’s welcomed.

Almost as if he was a 14-year-old boy again. Almost as if he felt his ma’s voice taunting him while she stood over the stove, stirring his favorite afterschool soup in her dented pot and prodding him about the crush she heard him and Steve giggling about.

“My girl. Uh, well my gir– she…”

Girl? His girl?

Did he really say that out loud?

But that wasn’t what had Bucky’s brain diving headfirst 100 miles per minute into the depths of his chest trying to revive the unrelenting muscle.

No, it wasn’t girl. It was the two-letter guarantor of possession sitting right before it.

My.

What were you? Surely, he was yours– wholly and completely.

But what were you?

Looking at the delicate velvet petals brush against his glove– a lot of things, Bucky realizes.

Sunrise and sunset. Understanding. Fresh air. Relief. The bundle of pale petaled softness tucked safely within his black leather gloves. An angel. His angel– his girl.

There was never a defining title placed on it, but hell if he’d let that stop him from claiming something so necessary for once in his damn life.

“They remind me of my girl. And she’ll love ‘em.” His confidence hardly surprises him– these flowers reek of you. How you lay nestled against him at 3 in the morning under cream sheets with the pale white of the moon dusting the tops of your cheekbones, your hands tracing shapes along the scars of his back. How your eyes crinkle looking right at him and that calming, gentle sound that fills the air as you tell him all about your dreams, your fears, your joys.

Bucky could already die a happy man from the overwhelming thought of you, grabbing for the bouquet with the most precious of hands, smiling down at the soft peach petals then up at him with those eyes– like he just handed you the damn keys to every castle in the world.

“Must be a pretty special beauty then, huh?”

Bucky could feel the boyish pink flooding his stubbled cheeks, out of his control and entirely too revealing. And for once, his flustered state doesn’t deter him from looking an intrusive stranger in the eye.

Maybe if you were there with him, that blinding light and stunning glow that seemed to follow you and infiltrate every last molecule of the very air he breathed, he’d find his words.

You’d be there, looking up at him while he stumbled through the sludge of muddled thoughts and feelings, gracious fingers stroking soothingly at the nape of his neck as he laid his heart out for you and only you.

But you weren’t. And how was he meant to explain to a person he had no interest in revealing any part of himself to that his angel was the very strength powering the flow of the waters of the earth; the very life twinkling, lighting the night sky?– That reducing her to a “pretty special beauty”, while undeniably true for every commoner to see, was the closest thing Bucky could think to being an insult?

With a quiet sniffle and a shake of his head, Bucky’s tearful smile told the kind stranger all he couldn’t seem to articulate with words.

No. You don’t understand– she’s not… she isn’t a pretty special beauty. That’s lazy. Words can’t describe what it’s like lookin’ at her, bein’ near her. Bein’ looked at and loved by someone so divine. She’s not… there’s no preparin’ yourself for her. She is beauty.

His ma would be out of her mind with emotions– Bucky knows now, looking into the knowing eyes of this stranger. It’s all she ever wanted for him.

The florist only smiles, handing Bucky the perfectly paper-wrapped bundle with a quick “It’s on me, hope she enjoys them.”

His walk home has an extra incentive of speed in his step. The colors of garments people wear blend together in a frantic flurry with the elements of nature around him, everything a blur but the ingrained compass guiding him home– the promise of his girl waiting there for him.

Milling over every possible way he can present these flowers to you, the most pathetic attempt at showing you a fraction of the way you plague his every breath– there’s no right way to hand these to you.

No. Bucky wishes he could piece together his thoughts eloquently enough to offer his love in the way he so desperately wants to. If he could place his words as well as he’s learned to with his emotions…. Maybe, between the distant scribbles of things he quickly jots down as fleeting memories of a distant time, Bucky could find himself writing the words this beauty of his has gifted him.

Feeling.

Bucky’s no poet, not much of a talker, either. But you make him feel things with the clarity of crystal glass.

Delicate, fragile, sparkling things. Maybe, feeling is just enough.

Maybe, his girl and all the violent thoughts he has surrounding her– how she’s the embodiment of radiance, the very definition of the most torrential depths of beauty– is just enough for Bucky. And he plans to worship the feeling of knowing your beauty for the rest of his days.

The gods above only know the tenderness your soul has granted him. The understanding that there’s more to life than pain; finding that self-healing he’s been able to strive towards with your patient encouragement.

Bucky has no more time to think about how he’ll offer these to you. You open the door the second you hear his hurried and frantic stomps bypassing the elevator, rushing the many flights of stairs 4 steps at a time.

“Bucky what’s–”

“I love you,” never have words been so easy, so heavy and at home in his chest. He exhales them so certainly, hoarse and breathless forming so perfectly between the pink plump of his lips. “I’m so in love with you. And I saw these and needed you to have ‘em.”

He never gets the chance to bashfully feel the weight of actions, doesn’t get to admire the love swimming in your eyes, the tears threatening to spill with that gaze you know there’s no controlling when it comes to him– you rush forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that nearly launches his anxious heart straight into the sanctuary of your palms. Breath escapes him for more reasons than one, melting under your honest passion and the need to have him– to love him as he is. His metal arm latches around your waist, pulling you as close as you can get while standing in his small doorway trying to protect a bouquet of flowers from being crushed.

His hand drifts up your side, caressing the figure he reveres as nothing less than shattering to capture your face. Bucky’s certain he’ll faint from the thrill of feeling you, from the need to keep tasting you– drifting, spinning, floating. It warms you both from the inside out, numbing the sound of the outside world and replacing it with the pulse of need rushing through your veins. It’s so good– forever needing more, more, more him.

How is it never enough?

Cradling his world between his fist, Bucky tilts your head, his restless lips hungrily breathing in you despite the fact you’re both dizzy, on the verge of collapsing and only still standing because of the other. His gloved-metal thumb swipes away the few tears that have fallen, brushing tender strokes into the high point of your cheek.

Soft moans rumble low in his chest, rising and rising to plead for more– the need to always feel your soft lips move so desperately against his, warm tongues claiming the unbridled desire to never stop– he’ll tell you he loves you with every breath he breathes, or the ones only you could steal from him so sweetly.

When you reluctantly break away his lips move to chase yours, and the red flush staining his flustered love-dazed face is enough to make you cling tighter to the back of his neck, pulling him back down to press kiss after kiss over his shy, boyishly babbling face.

“Bucky… they’re absolutely beautiful, baby.” Oh, he knows. He knows all too well– and the breathless way your voice calls for him, those eyes rendering him the most helpless-in-love man of all time– well. He’s an earnest devotee of this fate.

“You’re the beauty in life, angel.”

💐

[marzipanandminutiae]

the place I used to live, where the fire happened, sold for $1.2 million in October. I just found out online

they renovated it entirely- very stark, very white. very modern. I can't be mad about this; the fire made the interior completely unsalvageable, and anyway, it had burned ten years before this last time. so it was hardly All-Original when I lived there

they changed the layout. I can't place the location of my room, even though the windows are in the same spots. I can be mad about this, but I'm not. I am unaccountably sad

sometimes everything I've bought and made and been gifted and built since then, all the replacements, even through they're the work of my hands or the love of friends and family made real- feel fake. feel rushed and hastily cobbled together. I suppose it's because they're, at most, two years old in my life. in the old place, some things had been with me decades or more

where I live now is older, more ornate. beautiful. full of people who think well of me. it's a good place, it really is. I've rebuilt in so many ways

I wonder if the ghost of Me Before This keeps the millionaires up at night, walking through walls down a hallway that no longer exists. too much a creature of sea-green paint and rattling old doorknobs to fit in their ice-white luxury. I'm not sure she'll ever come back to me- acting out a normal evening return that never was, over and over again. finishing that day as I never got to

I hope they're nice. I hope they have better decorating taste than whoever staged those photos

grief, when it's deferred by the urgency of a survival checklist, bursts out at odd times and places

it was not home. not meant to be. I try to remind myself of that

I want to go home

[nonphoto-blue]

Lucky Lucky ꕤ Cho Hyun-ju x Reader [1/?]

Read on AO3 Masterlist Summary: After your previous manager runs away to America with the funds meant to kickstart your debut, your band 4tune is left to pick up the pieces in an impending scandal. The new manager, Cho Hyun-ju, says she’ll do everything to ensure your debut is successful, but it’s a long road until she gains your trust, especially when her own secrets come to light. Or, the kpop/krock/band AU no one asked for.

Warnings: Slowwwww burn. Kind of an inherent power imbalance but reader isn't taking bs from anyone, and reader is 20+. Reader is AFAB and uses she/her. She's implied to be Korean/from South Korea but no physical description is used.

A/N: So I've had the horrible idea of a kpop au for Squid Game since the first season came out. Originally I'd thought of a Sangwoo x Reader fic but it felt in bad taste at the time. Season 2 came out and I can't stop thinking about Hyun-ju so uh. You're getting this.

Five years. You’ve been in trainee hell for five years, learning the ins and outs of PR, songwriting, language, appearances, how to fucking smile at a camera when all you wanted to do was sing and play guitar and look out at a crowd with more people than you can count on your hands. All for your dreams to be stolen away, packed up in bags and expedite-shipped to the United States. 

If you could go back in time to tell your past self to save herself the trouble and give up music altogether, you’d consider it. Or at least tell her to flip off the agency scout the second he approaches. Sure, you’d still be busking on the street, but you’d be spared this bullshit and continue life with hope still. You don’t want to be an idol. You want to be– you are a musician, and the evidence was going to be your debut.

Your band, 4tune, is slated to record your debut in a month, and begin promotions just a couple months from now, but thanks to your no-good-money-stealing-piece-of-shit ex-manager, the money set aside for appearances and advertising is no longer in the company’s bank account. With grim faces, you, your bandmates, and a few members of the company higher ups gather around a table in an emergency meeting.

“It’s ridiculous,” Se-mi crosses her arms across her chest, huffing her bangs out of her eyes. “What a coward.” She stands, crossing to a floor-length window and staring at the skyline of Mapo-gu, disbelief written on her face. 

Your mouth forms a thin line. “Who just… takes the money and runs? How was he allowed to take all of it anyway?”

“That’s all we know,” the CEO, Hwang In-ho, murmurs. He laces his fingers together and scans the rest of the band’s faces as you take in the not-quite-death-sentence he delivered your group. “We’ve got the police in South Korea and the United States investigating, but they haven’t found him yet.”

“So what does this mean for 4tune? I mean, are we… still going to debut?” Young-mi asks. 

“We don’t have a manager, we don’t have money, we don’t have a debut.” Jun-hee puts a hand on her forehead, closing her eyes in exasperation. 

“Actually,” In-ho raises a finger. “We do have a new manager for you. She couldn’t make this meeting, but she’s coming up from Busan after lunch. You’ll meet her tonight or tomorrow.” He leans forward in his seat, and rests both arms on the table in front of him. “Rest assured, you will debut.”

You can’t help but feel your lips curl into a sneer. A new manager? Who’s to say this one won’t make off with whatever scraps of money are left? You hear Se-mi scoff from the window, her thoughts echoing your own. Jun-hee looks hesitant, but Young-mi looks up at In-ho with hope.

“What’s her name? What’s she like?”

“Cho Hyun-ju. She’s an old acquaintance.” Looking over the group’s faces, In-ho stands, and begins to make his way to the meeting room door. “I’ve known her for a long time. She’s a good person.” Hardly glowing praise, but you suppose anyone would be better than the ex-manager. The other company members follow In-ho out of the room, meeting adjourned, leaving just your group members with their thoughts.

Your gaze lingers on the frosted glass door they left from. “Great. A manager, but no money. She can drive us around and shit, but we have nowhere to go. What’s the point?” Your words are bitter, spat in sorrowful resignation. 

Young-mi, ever the optimist, takes your hand in her’s. “Let’s give her a chance. In-ho sajangnim vouched for her, I say we see how she clicks with us before giving up on her.” She smiles meekly at the other members. None of you share her optimism, but with a shared side eye, the rest of you begrudgingly hear Young-mi out and agree.

“Fine,” you offer. “But if she does anything remotely shady I’m clawing my way out of this contract.” ꕤ

Despite the sudden wrench in 4tune’s future plans, you all have a schedule to uphold, so you go through the motions as if nothing was wrong. After a short break for lunch, language classes, pose training, you finally make it to the only part of training that doesn’t feel like a chore: rehearsal as a whole band. 

The rehearsal space is intimate; a small room with warm wood-panel flooring and a three-person couch in the corner. Se-mi’s drum kit is already set up on the drum rug, as is Young-mi’s keyboard and three amps, one for Young-mi’s bass, one for Jun-hee’s guitar, and one for yours, as well as a vocal mic on a long arm. Stepping into the space brings an energy you thought would be lost following this morning’s bad news, and you place your guitar’s hard case down with a determined vigor.

You unlatch the case, and pull out your guitar, a Fender Lite Ash Telecaster. The strap rests perfectly on your shoulder, the neck fitting perfectly in your left hand, a guitar pick in your right. The quarter-inch cable plugs into your guitar with a satisfying click and the amp hums to life when you switch it on. You set upon tuning your guitar, but it doesn’t take much adjustment for any member of the band, and soon your group is playing the first notes of what will be your title track for your debut.

It’s an upbeat song, and the lyrics are inherently hopeful and optimistic. You feel the stress pouring out of you as you hear how well the band plays together. From the wailing of Jun-hee’s guitar, to the machine-like precision of Se-mi’s drumming, to the effortless jumping from keys to bass by Young-mi, pride fills your heart knowing that you’re collaborating, and creating something beautiful in spite of everything going wrong.

You play rhythm guitar and sing. Closing your eyes, you pour your heart and soul into the high-energy chorus, the softer verses, and everything in between. As the outro plays out and you all play your final notes, a soft applause that crescendos into a quick flurry of claps breaks through your reverie. 

You hadn’t noticed when she came in, but at the door stands an unfamiliar woman. She’s tall, and seems a bit younger than In-ho. Her hair is cut at her shoulders with blunt bangs reaching her eyebrows. She’s dressed well, and she’s not standing timidly per-se, but there’s an awkwardness to how she holds herself, like she’s unsure if she’s allowed in this space.

“I’m sorry,” she smiles at the band. “I was told you were in this practice room and I heard you playing. You all sound amazing.”

Young-mi smiles back. “You must be the new manager! It’s nice to meet you! I’m-”

“Young-mi, right?” Young-mi nods. The woman turns to the drumset, “You’re Se-mi,” to the lead guitarist, “and Jun-hee,” and then she turns to you, and says your name so tenderly, so kindly, every fiber of your being is shouting at you to give her a chance. “And yes, I’m Cho Hyun-ju, your new manager.” ꕤ

Rehearsal stagnates after Hyun-ju’s arrival as the band seems more interested in the new arrival than playing, but you keep your guitar plugged in and guitar strap on. Young-mi puts down her bass and steps away from her keyboard to approach Hyun-ju immediately, Jun-hee following soon after. You pluck out a few notes here and there, trying to at least try to get through your part of the next song, but after Se-mi stands up from her drumset, you give up trying to continue rehearsal.

Hyun-ju seated herself on the couch in the corner. Jun-hee and Se-mi stand in front of her, and Young-mi sits beside her. “I’m excited to work with you all,” Hyun-ju half-bows in her seat. “You sounded amazing playing just now, your debut will be a hit, I can just feel it.”

“We’re happy to have you here too. I’m sure you’ve heard but our last manager flaked out on us.” Se-mi explains. Hyun-ju hums a condolence, eyes casting down to the ground. “We’re almost ready to record our album, so I’m sure you’ll have a lot to do coming up.”

You clear your throat, walking over to the group. “What experience do you have managing?” You don’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it does. It’s supposed to be a light conversation about her work history, not an interrogation into her credentials. Hyun-ju’s face falters at the stern tone, and you kick yourself internally.

“Managing specifically, I've done most of the tasks individually before. That is, things like schedule management and driving and the like. I do have experience in the music and idol industry outside of management.”

You try to school your expression, you really do, and you pull your lips into a not-quite-smile that ends up looking more like a grimace. “Well then,” you push out, “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hi! I’m not sure if you’ve written something like this already, but how do you think Aegon would be like if (for some reason) the reader was giving him the cold shoulder?

Thank you :))

We all just absolutely adore clingy kinda pathetic Aegon huh? I love our little corner of the internet 😂 I decided to make the giving of the cold shoulder to Aegon more accidental than because of something he's done wrong cause we've spoken quite a bit about how badly Aegon would take being ignored as an actual punishment so I just thinking doing it this way makes more sense. I hope that's alright anon!!

So there's nothing extremely graphic in this answer but it's definitely focused on D/S dynamics and implies sexual content so I'll hide it under a tag just to be safe cause this is definitely not 100% SFW, enjoy!

I've said this before and I'll say it again: once Aegon starts to properly trust and rely on you then he becomes SO needy and emotional and very very clingy. Cause he just... you love him? And he's yours? So that means he's allowed to always look for you and try to please you and pout all day if he can't find you?

Your approval is really the only thing he needs. His advisers and his siblings and his mother can all look down upon him and be disappointed in him and he won't even notice as long as you're with him. Because with you he actually CAN please you? You show him what to do and you care for him and you set him up for success never for failure, unlike his mother and his advisors.

Anyway, point is that Aegon cares very deeply about what you think of him. Otto can call him a disgrace and he won't even flinch, but if you just slightly frown in his direction then he's immediately panicked and asking what he's done wrong. Cause you can't be upset him, not ever!!!!!

You know this of course, and you enjoy indulging him. You make sure to stay close, take his hand when walking, listen to him, cheer him up, etc.

But of course no matter how much you love spending time with him you also have your own duties to the realm. In particular you end up being the person who has to do a lot of the more subtle attempts at ensuring the loyalty of the other powerful houses. Aegon has no mind for politics or subtly and while hearing that used to upset him, it no longer does because he has a very pretty wife who can do that sort of thing for him and his only role is to wear a crown and look pretty and that he can absolutely manage.

This incident takes place during one of those evenings where a powerful house is dining with you all. There are whispers of a potential marriage between the two families to ensure allegiances and of course then also whispers about what land and titles this new union would be entitled to and what their heirs would do. This is the exact kind of thing that Aegon has no patience for, and so his preferred method of doing these things is to let you do it while he gets to watch you.

At one point during the dinner the matriarch of the other house motions for you to come outside with her before dessert is served and of course you agree. You get up from your chair and escort the matriarch outside to hear what she has to say.

What you don't notice though, is that as you get up Aegon turned to you and tried to reach for you. He didn't catch what the silent gestures of the other lady meant and when you got up he was confused. You didn't notice though and went straight out.Aegon doesn't speak to anyone while you're outside, instead just constantly looks around the room to try and figure out where you are or when you'll be back.

When you return with the lady you're smiling and allow her to announce her official proposal of the marriage between the two houses. Aegon and all relevant parties agree of course and so the rest of the dinner becomes much more lighthearted as the upcoming union is discussed.

Throughout the conversation you keep your eyes on the two who will be married, trying to make sure neither of them are reacting badly to this. Of course they both knew ahead of time that this was a possibility but knowing it's a possibility and being informed of its confirmation are two very different things.

Because you're focused on them, you don't notice Aegon trying to get your attention. And later when Aegon pours more wine into your glass you're turned slightly the other way to listen to someone and so you don't even notice it. That's what really makes him think he must have upset you because you ALWAYS thank him for little acts of service like that. He's quiet for the rest of the dinner and with each passing moment that you're speaking to another he becomes more and more convinced he's somehow been bad. Maybe he was supposed to offer to go outside with you? Maybe he should have reacted differently to the proposal? He really thought he was doing all you'd want him to and yet clearly he must have gotten that wrong cause you didnt even hold his hand!!!!

When dinner is over some of the guests seem to be heading to the sitting area for more wine to continue the evening. Aegon wishes them all well and says he's tired so he'll be going to bed and then leaves.

That's when you realise you had been unconsciously ignoring him and he must have thought he was bad. Normally Aegon would never even consider leaving without you, and he also wouldn't just announce he was leaving unless he had asked you first. Him immediately going tells you all you need to know.

You take your leave then as well, quickly running up to your shared chambers. You get there just as Aegon is about to close the door, and when you enter Aegon turns his back to you. You can tell from how his arms are folded around himself that he's probably crying or trying not to cry.

You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his cheek. You rest your head on his shoulder, kissing his ear before asking him what's wrong. He simply just says he's sorry for whatever he did.

You turn him and kiss him on both cheeks, his nose and his forehead before finally kissing him on the lips and promising him that he was perfect and you were just too distracted with everyone else.

Aegon is so relieved he just immediately pulls you into bed and refuses to leave until sunrise.

[maypiles]

Next pac on self love or growth ?? 👀

Ooooh, now this is a vibe I’m all about 😌✨ Let’s see what Spirit has to say for your self-love and growth! I’ve got the perfect energy coming through to help guide you on this. 🧘‍♀️🌱 Stay tuned for some fiery truths and some soothing affirmations, because we’re going deep on this journey of self-love! 🔮💖

Pick a Pile: What Do You Need to Focus on for Your Self-love and Growth at This Time?🌱🌼💕

❗ This is a collective reading so take what resonates and leave what does not❗

Pile 1: "The Only One Who Needed Saving"♥️📿

Pile 1, your word is Illumination. This is about shedding light on your shadows, uncovering the truths you've been avoiding, and realizing that you can't keep running from the parts of yourself that need healing. Spirit is asking you to confront and illuminate the corners of your heart and mind that have been in darkness for too long. This is your time to face it, to rise, and to grow.

Hello, my loves. This is Pile 1 for my collective, or for whoever is meant to cross paths with this reading and resonate deeply with it. The question we're diving into today is: what does my collective need to know for Pile 1 to focus on their self-love and growth at this time?

And let me tell you, Spirit did not hold back.

The cards are the Moon, Page of Swords, Eight of Swords, Four of Swords Reversed, Seven of Swords, Strength, the Hanged Man, Ten of Cups, Knight of Pentacles, Seven of Cups, Nine of Pentacles Reversed, Knight of Cups, Justice Reversed, Death Reversed, Page of Pentacles, Eight of Swords Reversed, Two of Wands, Nine of Cups, Eight of Wands, the Hermit Reversed, Three of Cups Reversed, Two of Cups Reversed, Queen of Wands Reversed.

At the bottom: Judgment.

Split the deck: The World, the Fool Reversed, Ace of Wands, Ten of Swords.

And let’s not even get into how Rihanna's "Stay" kept playing in my head. That specific line: “I’m the only one who needed saving.” Baby, this pile is screaming at me with savior syndrome vibes. It feels like you’re trying so hard to rescue others, but here’s the catch—you’re the one who’s drowning.

Energy Check: The Tarantula

Before we even break down these cards, let’s talk about the energy I channeled for this pile: the tarantula. This fiery, primal creature represents a crossroads. You’re at a point in your life where you need to make a crucial decision: keep running, or finally confront what you’ve been avoiding. The tarantula doesn’t rush—it pauses, listens, and makes its move when the time is right. But, darling, time is ticking, and you can’t stay stuck at this crossroads forever.

The Core Message:

Pile 1, the story here is one of resistance. The Moon paired with the Page of Swords and Eight of Swords tells me there’s a fog in your life—an uncertainty that you keep poking at but refuse to fully face. You’re trapped in your own mental labyrinth (Eight of Swords), and the Four of Swords reversed shows you’re restless. You know something needs to change, but instead of taking the leap, you’re clinging to avoidance tactics (Seven of Swords).

Here’s the tea: you’ve got Strength and the Hanged Man here, which is Spirit’s way of saying, “You’re stronger than you think, but it’s time to shift your perspective.” You’re being called to let go of old patterns that no longer serve you.

The Ten of Cups and Knight of Pentacles show potential for emotional fulfillment and stability, but it’s slow-moving. Why? Because the Seven of Cups and Nine of Pentacles reversed suggest you’re overwhelmed by choices, doubts, and insecurities. You’re spreading yourself thin, chasing after too many things at once, or holding onto situations that are draining your energy.

The Savior Complex:

Justice reversed and Death reversed? Baby, you’re resisting the scales tipping and the transformation that comes with it. You’re out here trying to “fix” or “save” others, pouring your cup into everyone else’s, but who’s filling yours? The Page of Pentacles and Eight of Swords reversed suggest a fresh start is possible, but only if you decide to step out of your mental cage.

Spirit is asking you to pause and ask yourself:

Why am I so focused on saving others?

What am I avoiding in my own life?

What part of myself am I neglecting?

The Shift:

The Two of Wands and Nine of Cups show that you have the power to manifest your desires, but only if you stop running from your shadows. The Eight of Wands tells me that when you do finally face your fears, things will start moving fast. But until then? The Hermit reversed, Three of Cups reversed, and Two of Cups reversed show a sense of isolation. You might feel disconnected from yourself and others, but this is a sign to reconnect with your inner Queen of Wands energy. (Though she’s reversed right now, honey—she’s there, waiting to shine again.)

Judgment, The World, and The Fool Reversed

The underlying theme here is a wake-up call. Judgment is asking you to reflect and rise. The World says you’re nearing the end of a cycle, but The Fool reversed warns against taking shortcuts. You can’t skip the work, darling. Self-love and growth require patience, effort, and honesty.

Closing Message:

Pile 1, Spirit is asking you to step into your power. You’ve been running for too long, trying to save everyone but yourself. It’s time to pause, face your shadows, and let the tarantula guide you towards alignment. You’re stronger than you think, and once you confront the truth, you’ll unlock a new chapter filled with growth, abundance, and peace.

And remember, as Rihanna said: “I’m the only one who needed saving.”

Take that as your mantra, baby. It's time to save yourself.

Pile 2: "The Reason to Hold On" 🎀🪞

Pile 2, your word is Grounding. Spirit is calling you to center yourself and get back to the basics—your foundation, your values, and your heart’s desires. You're holding on to something that might not be serving you anymore, and it’s time to evaluate why. By grounding yourself, you'll find clarity and the strength to move forward, step by step, toward what truly fulfills you.

Hello, my loves. This is Pile 2 for my collective, or for whoever is meant to cross paths with this reading and resonate deeply. Let me preface this by saying: this message isn’t necessarily what you want to hear, but Spirit says it’s what you need to hear.

The Cards Speak:

The cards here: Three of Pentacles, Four of Wands, Page of Cups, Knight of Pentacles, Four of Cups, The Hierophant, Three of Cups, Ace of Pentacles Reversed, Five of Cups Reversed, Five of Wands, Queen of Cups, The Star, The Moon Reversed, King of Pentacles, Three of Swords Reversed, The Hanged Man Reversed, Seven of Wands Reversed, Knight of Wands, Justice, Knight of Cups Reversed, Nine of Cups, The Devil Reversed, King of Wands Reversed, Eight of Cups Reversed, Seven of Pentacles Reversed, Seven of Cups, Ace of Cups, Two of Pentacles Reversed.

Bottom of the deck: Nine of Pentacles Reversed.

Split the deck: Ten of Pentacles, Ten of Wands Reversed, Four of Pentacles.

Energy Check: The Fox

The energy of this pile is represented by the Fox from the Wild Unknown Oracle. The fox is cunning, observant, and intelligent, but in this context, there’s something about its watchfulness that stands out. It’s as though you’re waiting, watching, holding onto something that feels like the only thread tethering you to stability or purpose. There’s this overwhelming sense of “the only reason to hold on,” as if your grasp is fixed on something that simultaneously grounds you and weighs you down.

The Core Message:

Pile 2, you’re holding on to something—whether it’s a relationship, a dream, a belief system, or even a version of yourself—that no longer serves you in the way it once did. The Three of Pentacles and Four of Wands suggest that this thing did bring you joy and stability at one point. It gave you a sense of belonging, a reason to celebrate. But as we move into the Four of Cups, we see dissatisfaction creeping in.

You’re in this limbo, caught between nostalgia for what was and the fear of letting go. The Hierophant indicates you’ve built structures or traditions around this thing, making it even harder to release. But here’s the truth, darling: just because something was good for you doesn’t mean it still is.

The reversed Ace of Pentacles and Seven of Pentacles reversed show stagnation. You’re planting seeds in soil that no longer nurtures growth. The Five of Wands and Five of Cups reversed suggest inner conflict and a desire to move on from pain, but there’s hesitation.

Why Are You Holding On?

The Devil reversed paired with Eight of Cups reversed shows you know this thing is no longer healthy for you. You’ve done some of the work to untangle yourself from it, but you haven’t fully walked away. The reversed King of Wands and Knight of Cups show a lack of confidence or direction. You’re holding on because you think letting go will leave you empty.

But Spirit says, “Letting go doesn’t mean losing yourself. It means making space for something new.”

The Shift:

The Star, Justice, and Ace of Cups show that healing and emotional renewal are on the horizon—but only if you release the burden you’re carrying (Ten of Wands reversed) and open your heart to possibilities you can’t yet see. The Knight of Pentacles urges you to take small, deliberate steps. You don’t have to figure it all out at once.

The Bottom Line:

The reversed Nine of Pentacles suggests a fear of independence or self-reliance. You may feel like you’re not ready to stand on your own, but Spirit is reminding you of your strength. The Ten of Pentacles shows that true stability and abundance await you, but you have to loosen your grip on what’s no longer working (Four of Pentacles).

Closing Message:

Pile 2, you’re being asked to trust the process. The fox watches, observes, and waits for the perfect moment to act. But the time to act is approaching. Spirit is saying, “Let go of what no longer serves you, even if it scares you. Trust that what’s meant for you will find its way.”

And remember, you’re not losing anything. You’re making room for everything.

Pile 3: "What Do You Need to Close the Cycle?"🍒💄

Pile 3, your word is Transformation. Change is in the air, and it’s asking for your participation. Spirit is nudging you to close out cycles, do the work, and step into the next chapter of your journey. This isn’t a time to fear change but to embrace it as a necessary step toward your personal evolution. Trust the process—it’s all leading to your highest good.

P.S: this collective could be bloggers, content creators, use TikTok a lot, could be watching tarot readings on TikTok as well, a tarot reader called Chen could be significant. Also, they could be doing a lot of shadow work, there's something to do with beauty for this collective, either a business or something. Some of the collective could be ruled by Venus.

Hello, my loves. This is Pile 3 for my collective, or for those who are about to cross paths with this reading. Spirit says this message is for someone who needs to focus on their self-love and growth, but here’s the twist: you’re being asked to DO something. This isn’t passive reflection; this is about action, movement, and embracing change.

The Cards Speak:

The cards for this pile: The Empress, Four of Pentacles reversed, The Hermit, Ten of Cups reversed, The Tower, Two of Pentacles, Queen of Swords reversed, The Sun reversed, Five of Cups, Five of Pentacles, Two of Wands, Ace of Swords, Queen of Pentacles, The Moon, Four of Cups, Six of Cups, Nine of Swords, Four of Wands, Knight of Pentacles reversed, The Fool, Eight of Cups reversed, The World, High Priestess reversed, The World reversed, Eight of Swords reversed, Ten of Swords, Ten of Pentacles, King of Cups reversed, Page of Pentacles, Four of Swords reversed, Strength, Knight of Cups reversed, King of Pentacles.

Bottom of the deck: Eight of Pentacles.

Split the deck: Justice, Six of Swords reversed, Three of Pentacles.

Energy Check: The Elk

The energy of this pile is represented by the Elk from the Wild Unknown Oracle. The elk symbolizes groundedness, strength, and perseverance. There’s a strong earth energy here (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn vibes), and with the number 555 appearing prominently, Spirit is screaming change. You’re on the cusp of a transformation, but it’s going to take effort, focus, and an open mind.

The Core Message:

Pile 3, you’re being called to close a cycle. This isn’t a gentle nudge—it’s a push, a wake-up call. The Tower and Ten of Swords don’t mince words: something in your life is no longer sustainable. It’s time to let go, to rebuild, to transform.

But here’s the thing: you’re holding back. The reversed Eight of Cups shows reluctance to leave behind what’s familiar, even if it’s painful. The reversed World confirms this cycle isn’t closing because you’re clinging to it. Spirit says, “It’s time to stop procrastinating.”

What’s Holding You Back?

The reversed Queen of Swords and Sun suggest confusion and lack of clarity. You might feel lost, like you don’t know which way to turn. The Five of Cups and Five of Pentacles show grief, loss, and feelings of abandonment. But darling, you can’t build a new foundation if you’re standing in the rubble of the old one.

There’s a fear of stepping into the unknown (The Fool), a fear of leaving behind comfort and stability (Four of Pentacles reversed). The reversed Knight of Pentacles shows hesitation, a reluctance to take those first steps.

What Do You Need to Do?

Shadow Work: The presence of The Moon and the word “shadow” coming through loud and clear means you need to confront your fears, insecurities, and patterns. What are you avoiding? What are you afraid to face?

Close the Cycle: The reversed World and the question, “What do they need to close this cycle?” indicate unfinished business. The Ace of Swords suggests clarity and truth are key. Be honest with yourself about what needs to end.

Embrace Change: The number 555 is all about transformation. The reversed Six of Swords shows resistance to moving forward. Spirit says, “You can’t grow if you stay where you are.”

Step Into Your Power: The Empress and Queen of Pentacles show you have the potential for abundance, beauty, and stability. But you need to believe in yourself. The reversed High Priestess suggests you’re not trusting your intuition.

Work on Your Goals: The Eight of Pentacles and Three of Pentacles show the importance of effort and collaboration. Whether it’s personal growth, career, or relationships, put in the work.

The Shift:

Once you take action, the Ten of Pentacles and Strength show that long-term success and stability are within reach. The reversed Knight of Cups suggests it’s time to focus on practical, grounded action rather than chasing fleeting emotions or distractions.

Closing Message:

Pile 3, Spirit says: “You are stronger than you think. Stop doubting yourself, stop delaying the inevitable, and take that first step. The cycle won’t close itself—you have to do the work. But once you do, you’ll find freedom, clarity, and a sense of purpose like never before.”

P.S: Spirit really isn’t playing with you today! Seeing 15:55 as exactly as I'm writing this part is a powerful confirmation. The number 555 is all about transformation, major changes, and growth, and it ties perfectly with the energy of Pile 3.

This is your nudge from the universe that you’re aligned with the message. Whatever you’re holding onto, it’s time to release it. Big shifts are coming your way, and they’re leading you toward something better, more fulfilling, and more aligned with your higher self.

Take it as a sign: the change you’ve been resisting is the change you need.

All right, loves, I feel like Spirit really came through with some powerful messages for all three piles. And listen, I know some of you might be side-eyeing me, thinking, 'What kind of cosmic call-out is this?' But trust me when I say, Spirit doesn’t whisper when you need to hear the truth—it SHOUTS. Whether it’s shadow work, releasing what no longer serves, or embracing the change that’s been knocking at your door, this reading is your invitation to level up. No more hiding, no more resisting—this is about stepping into your power, facing those shadows, and letting your inner light do the talking. And remember, self-love isn’t just bubble baths and affirmations; it’s about confronting what’s uncomfortable, healing, and showing up for yourself in ways you never have before. So take what resonates, leave what doesn’t, and, as always, stay bold, stay growing, and stay you.

Alright, babes, let’s do a poll because we love options. Spirit's been loud today, but I’m curious—what are we focusing on next? Y’all know the vibe. Let’s keep it spicy and soul-shaking, shall we?

Let me know which one has you screaming 'That’s the one!' Voting closes whenever Spirit says so (lol I mean Tumblr says one week so...). May the best vibe win!

[insomniadreamzz]

OK OK OK FOLLOWING THE PREGNANCY STORYLINE LETS IMAGINE ISHA IS HERE A CUTE FLUFFY THING WITH EITHER ISHA MEETING THE BABY OR FINDING OUT READER IS PREGNANT AND THAT SHES GONNA BE A BIG SIS

Our family

Jinx x Fem!Reader ft. Isha (plus a little bonus with Sevika)

Fluff

A continuation from the fic „My Everything“ https://www.tumblr.com/insomniadreamzz/772011828255621120/hey-how-are-you-i-wanted-to-request-gp-jinx-x

You still remember when Isha found out she gonna be a big sister, the way her eyes were literally glowing with happiness. Isha was mute but she expressed her happiness clearly, already doing little doodles of her and her sister together with you and Jinx. The way she put her little head on your baby bump to feel her sister kick, it was just too cute.

Jinx already set up some stuff for the little one, making sure youre gonna have everything you needed when the baby will arrive and soon it happened.

You can still remember how Jinx held your hand and never left your side. Singed, the only doctor here in Zaun also made an appearance to make sure everything went well. He wasn’t used to be part of something like that very often but he was glad he could help you out in that situation. Jinx kisses on your forehead and the way she encouraged you during that hard time, it was still stuck in your head how gentle and loving she can be and then it happened. When you first heard your little one cry, both of you shed tears of happiness, feeling relieved that everything went good. It was a little girl.

When you both got back home after that, Jinx immediately ushered you to bed, figuring you must be tired as you had your newborn in your arms, Jinx never leaving your side.

„Look how cute she is…our little one…“ She cooed, holding you close as she admired your daughter, making you smile so happily. „Of course she is, she is ours.“ You mentioned, looking into your girlfriend’s eyes. „What should we name her?“ You asked and Jinx already got an idea, something that she was thinking about for a longer time now since she knew you are pregnant.

„Powder.“ Jinx said, making your eyes widen in confusion, knowing it was Jinx‘s actual name. „Powder?“ You asked, Jinx nodding in response. „Yes. I want to have a good connection to that name now. Every time I hear it I have to think about myself when I was younger and…certain things happened but I want to forget that. I want to be happy hearing the name Powder and not feel triggered anymore by that name. She will be a better Powder, not like me. I am Jinx now, Powder died in me but we can make her be a better Powder than I was.“ You heard her voice crack a little, seeing little tears running down her cheeks. This really meant a lot to Jinx, you knew it. „Then she will be Powder.“ You agreed with her, using your free hand to caress her back gently, getting back her attention towards you. „Thank you my love.“ She said before placing a little kiss on your lips.

The moment got interrupted by little footsteps, it was Isha who curiously walked up to you, Jinx shifting to make space for Isha between you both. „Isha! Come here, say hello to your little sister.“ Jinx said, letting the girl slip beside you as she looked at the little one with wide happy eyes, her small hand gently touching Powder as if welcoming her.

„Now you are a big sister. You can show her everything when she gets a little bigger, cool right?“ You said, Isha nodding at your words, feeling really happy to be a big sister now plus she was excited to have someone to play with in the future as well.

You talked a little more this evening until all of you just fell asleep. Powder on your chest and Isha sleeping between you and Jinx, all cuddled up in one bed. It was a very peaceful moment. Jinx slept for the first time very happily and calm, the voices in her head not bothering her at all. She was truly happy for the first time and she won’t let anyone destroy this happy life she had.

The next morning Sevika was on her way to Jinx’s hideout, it’s been a while since she showed up, probably hanging around in the Last Drop or doing her usual work. Sevika knew Jinx from when Silco took her with him so she felt like she had to look for her every now and then, making sure Jinx was alright.

„Jinx where the fuck are-…“ She started but stopped immediately in her tracks as she saw Jinx holding a baby while you and Isha were still sleeping cuddled up together. „Where did that baby come from?“ She asked with a raised eyebrow, not trusting this situation for now.

„That’s my daughter which came right out of my girlfriend if you want to know.“ Jinx replied with her usual sassy behavior. Sevika didn’t want to know any more details, shaking it off as she stepped closer to Jinx, having a closer look at the baby. „That’s…really yours?“ She asked again, being a little bit shocked, Jinx nodding in response. „Yep! Does auntie Sevika want to say hello to little Powder? Or are you gonna chicken out?“ Obviously Jinx had to tease Sevika but the older woman didn’t let her make her annoyed as she just nodded. Jinx helped Sevika to hold Powder with her arm, the baby looking even smaller in her strong arm. „There you go.“

Sevika stared at the baby with a unusual soft gaze. „Aw…did you just say auntie Sevika?“ She asked to be sure. „Of course! You’re the only one left who’s like a family to me after Silco died.“ Jinx became soft as she said that, thinking it was about time to speak the truth to Sevika, making the other womans eyes water a little. „Silco would be so happy and proud of you Jinx.“ Sevika mentioned, making Jinx almost cry but she held back her tears. Instead a little tear rolled down Sevika‘s cheek. „Are you crying?“ Jinx tilted her head as she gazed at Sevika who just shook her head. „No I am not.“ She said, making Jinx chuckle in response. „Damn you are a bad liar.“

And with that both started chuckling.

[shinehalley]

I'm sorry, but I heard "I'd rather die than grow old without the best of you" in The Challenge from Epic: The Musical and my brain automatically thought of Agent Stone so here's a little freak out Stobotnik loosely based on this concept.

The first time the Doctor disappeared, his supposed death was so sudden and mysterious that Stone was able to disappear and put contingency plans into action without much difficulty. Robotnik's work was preserved despite the government's attempts to erase him from history, after all, the world's greatest inventor was a source of inspiration for other inventors in every country and organization on the planet. Stone focused on staying in the background and waiting for the Doctor's return, because of course such a brilliant man would not be defeated so easily, and his legacy was fixed in the shadow of the inventors' society whether the american government liked it or not.

This time, however, Robotnik left a message for the world when he disappeared. I mean, technically the message was meant for Stone, but the entire world had access to it, including the International Society of Brilliant Inventors. This meant that Stone had gone from being a nameless assistant in their eyes to Robotnik's right-hand man. It meant that everything that remained of Robotnik's work, in all its detail and genius, was either in Stone's possession or could be reproduced only thanks to his knowledge.

Soon every inventor, from the most renowned to the youngest, wanted Stone by their side in the same way that Robotnik had. The Doctor's reputation only made the man who had been able to win their affection and trust even more desirable in the eyes of these inventors, and so Stone was no longer able to hide as well as he had the first time. No matter what excuse he came up with or how often he disappeared into the most innocuous places on the planet, he was always found by some scientist with an offer of partnership or courtship or employment. This quickly became a problem when all Stone wanted was to be able to process the Doctor's death in peace and think carefully about what to do with the rest of his life.

Stone refused to reveal any information about Robotnik's work beyond what was already public knowledge among the society of inventors, and he would not give in to any advances or threats from anyone who approached him. His loyalty was palpable, and it made them want him even more just for the challenge. So that was exactly what he decided to give them. Whoever could invent something even remotely similar to Robotnik's technology on their own would not only have Stone as an assistant, but also access to all the knowledge he had accumulated about the Doctor over the years. Only someone as brilliant as Robotnik once was would truly be worthy of continuing what he had built on his own.

He never believed that there could actually be a person in this century who could compare to the Doctor and hoped that this challenge would give him time to think about what to really do with Robotnik's work and his own life. Perhaps the friendly advances would turn into outright threats when they realized he was just winding everyone up, but that was okay, Stone was prepared for that. He would rather die than actually hand over Robotnik's legacy to someone else, no matter how deserving they might prove to be.

Stone didn't know that in an even more innocuous place on the planet, Robotnik was recovering from the explosion with Shadow by his side fully aware of the repercussions of his supposed death. He was fully determined to wait for a full recovery to return to his assistant, but when he learned of the challenge, oh, there were no broken bones that would stop him from proving to Stone that he was still the best of the best among all those sycophants in that idiotic society. If his return ends up protecting his assistant from being tortured by less brilliant scientists, but just as cruel as Robotnik considered himself to be, well, let's just say it was a positive side effect.

[siri-ike]

A little crime, as a treat

chapter 2

Prev

"%!&#%@/×/@^#&×%^ %@&× %@^×!" Jason shouted from his ofice window. "Was that a #^!&@ carriage? A !%@^ Carriage just drove into the !%&@ ground with my best %^@ assistant?!?!? My right-hand man!? My %!& %@^# %!^#@ for a %@&@: %@^ and @%&@:?!?!" He jumped out, landing on the ground three floors lower.

That $@% brainless, $@%#, @%#; hot pice of $@^@ better not have gotten himself $@%#^, or some other eaqualy $@^ up version of %#^!^. Not on Jason's payroll.

《~~~~~~》

Danny couldn't believe it. He came to the ghost zone expecting to get arrested, proposed to, or challenged to a duel of some sort.

Not this.

"I, I can't be ghost king." Danny pleaded. "I'm not even fully a ghost." The giant hands around him felt less comforting by the second.

"You defeated Pariah Dark. That alone makes you worthy." Frostbite beamed with approval.

"But, but I'm too young. Wouldn't it be better to have someone older?" Danny's breath quickened.

"Pariah was old, and you saw how that worked out. Perhaps it is time for a more modern view."

"But I, I can't, I," He struggled.

"Sir, the people await," the short ghost from before got their attention before opening another large pair of doors, revealing what looked like some kind of giant opposite church. A hundred rows of ghosts on either side of a clear aisle. And at the end stood Clockwork, the observants and,

A sword in a pumpkin.

《~~~~~~》

As soon as the call ended, Constantine hurriedly grabbed everything of importance or value in his apparent. There was no way he'd stick around to see what $@%^* the red hood wants from him. Best case, sinario, he wants some magic devilry. Worst case? John does not have the imagination for that. He rushed out the door, only to be intercepted by gang members wearing red. Bollocks. How's he meant to bull^!%^ his way out of this one?

《~~~~~~》

"No excuses," Frostbite lifted Danny's face up by his chin. "My boy, the title is largely symbolic. The ghost zone has run without a ruler for longer than most of us can remember."

That was at least a little reassuring. Not enough to let go of his death grip on Frostbites arm.

"Now go, I'll be right here." He beamed. "Remember to let out the cold."

Danny looked down at his hands. He was shaking.

OK, just like they'd trained. Breathe in, breathe out.

《~~~~~~》

Jason's usually a safer driver. Not a safe driver. Mind you, just safer than this.

《~~~~~~》

His first step, the carpet leading to the alter, froze. Delicate embroidery is obscured through a thick layer of ice. Icicles grow behind him and quickly melt into slush. In front of both Frostbite and Clockwork. And other people he supposes.

As he walks down the aisle, alone, he notices some familiar faces. Ghosts he'd fought, ghosts he'd helped, ghosts who had helped him. Whith varying degrees of satisfaction on their faces.

Had any of them even tried to challenge him for the crown? He searched his memory and couldn't find a significant ghost attack, even for other reasons in the past 10 years. Might they actually want him to be king?

《~~~~~~》

"Better not be trying to leave." Red Hood was plenty scary over the phone. He simply had no business being scarier in person.

"Who, me? Never." Constantine lied.

"This morning, a horse-drawn carriage appeared out of nothing, took my assistant, and disappeared into the ground. Know anything about that?"

"That sounds like relms business, I had nothing to do with it." He stuttered.

"I know you didn't take him. You know better than to take what's mine." Hood reassured? Threatened? "Tell me who took him."

Constantine breathed a sigh of relief.