#you may just find something you didn’t know you liked

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter eight

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

wc: 4.6k

“Chris!”

“Shut up!”

“I’m s-sorry!”

“Shut up!”

Chris grabs a handful of your hair from behind and slams your face into the pillow, muffling your moans that were definitely echoing through the rest of the house before placing his hand back on your waist.

You had snuck in, once again, through the back door that conveniently connected to Chris’s room, where you had spent most of your free time this last week since coming back from the wedding, and half of the time you came over, it ended up like this, getting your mouth covered somehow in a desperate attempt to keep you quiet to avoid his brothers hearing you, especially like this. Not that you minded, you loved when Chris got a little aggressive in bed, so maybe sometimes you got a little loud on purpose.

Chris’s hands were no doubt creating bruises in your sides where they gripped on, pulling you back towards him every time he thrust into you, your bodies slapping loudly in the otherwise silent room. Normally you guys had something playing on the tv, or at least his speaker, to drown out how loud you typically got, but today when you walked into his room, you may or may not have immediately ripped your shirt off once the door was closed, waggling your eyebrows suggestively. Chris got the hint and you guys wasted no time jumping into bed together.

Now, however long later, you were nearing the end of your session and unable to control the sounds coming out of your mouth, grateful Chris had turned you into the pillow to quiet down.

Chris delivered a final pump inside you, groaning as he came, your sounds finally quieting down, head turning back out of the pillow to suck in a deep breath.

“You are way too loud,” Chris grumbles. “You’re the one that wants to keep us a secret but you can’t shut the fuck up when you need to.”

“I’m sorry,” you whine. “You’re just like… magic or something.”

That rips a laugh out of Chris as he pulls out of you, letting your body flop onto the bed. “Magic or something, I like that.” He leans forward and hovers his body above your back, placing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Hey, I-“

“Chris?!”

The sound of Matt yelling at the top of the stairs ripped you both out of your post-sex haze, eyes widening and staring at each other in shock. “Yeah?!” Chris yells back inconspicuously, both of you jumping up from the bed and scrambling to find your clothes. The sound of footsteps gets louder, panic setting into both of your chests as you guys realize you’re about to get caught. Chris definitely didn’t lock the door before you guys got started either.

“Fuck,” you whisper, gathering all of your clothes into your hands, knowing you won’t have time to put them back on.

“Bathroom!” Chris whisper-yells, pointing at the bathroom door connected to his room. You’re running into the bathroom as he’s ripping his comforter off his bed, soaked by your so called ‘party trick’. He’s only got sweatpants on, and he’s mumbling obscenities to himself as he sees the sheets soaked as well, ripping those off when the door swings open, revealing a confused and slightly worried Matt in the doorway.

“Are you okay?” You hear Matt’s voice through the bathroom door. His eyes are raking over Chris’s room which seems slightly in disarray, watching him stripping his sheets.

“Of course I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be okay? I’m fine. Why?” Chris babbles, standing up straight and placing his hands on his hips, slightly out of breath.

“Uh… I just heard, like, screaming and I didn’t know what it was and you weren’t answering your phone.” Matt says, still confused.

“Oh!” Chris forces out a laugh and waves a hand at his brother dismissively. “I was watching a movie, sorry.”

Matt nods, not fully believing him but not having any reason not to either. “Why are you stripping your bed?”

Chris looks around at the blankets now on the floor, pursing his lips. “My bed? Oh my blankets, yeah, I’m just.. gonna wash them.”

Matt looks really confused now, eyebrows surging towards his hairline. “You’re doing laundry?” He asks, to which Chris just nods in response. “Alright. Well as long as you’re okay, I’m just gonna go back in my room.” He turns around to leave, but stops in his tracks, turning just his head back to Chris. “Also, it fucking reeks in your room. You need an air freshener, bad.”

“You got it,” Chris agrees, turning to open his window. Once his bedroom door is shut, he walks to the bathroom door and opens it, revealing you fully clothed in your sweat shorts and tank top, cheeks a bright red color. He laughs at the sight of you, walking in to wrap his arms around your shoulders. “Why do you look like that?”

You stayed limp, hands at your sides. “He said it reeks!” You cry out, face pressed in Chris’s bare chest, making him laugh loudly.

“It just smells like sex in here, that’s all. He probably just couldn’t place it because he doesn’t think that’s what I’m doing in here. It’s not you that stinks.” Chris comforts you by rubbing his hands on your back sweetly, pressing his lips into the top of your head. “Although, the sheets almost got us caught, I didn’t realize it went through the blanket so he saw me ripping those off.”

You just groan even louder, still embarrassed. “I think I need to be celibate.” You mumble, to which Chris gasps.

“Absolutely not! You don’t get to show me what I’m missing all these years just to rip it away from me.”

-

“Chris,” you whisper, shaking the dead weight body next to you in bed. Silence. “Chris,” you whisper again, shaking him harder.

The boy next to you groans, pulling the blankets up to his chin and settling back into sleep quickly. You’re faster, though, refusing to let him ignore you.

“Chris,” you say in your normal tone, shaking him once more.

Chris turns his head, eyes barely cracked open as he stares at you in the almost pitch black room, the only thing illuminating your face being the moon in the sky coming through the window. “What?” He snaps, annoyed.

“I’m thirsty,” you tell him in a deadpan tone.

Chris blinks at you a few times, like he can’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth. “Are you serious?” He asks, voice groggy. “You woke me up to tell me you’re thirsty? Go get water.”

You pout at him, not wanting to get out of bed. “You go get me water.”

Chris turns back to his position facing away from you, getting comfortable once more. “You sound wide awake, I’m not doing that.”

You huff and throw the blankets off of yourself aggressively, standing up from the bed. It was almost three in the morning and you guys had been asleep for quite some time, but you woke up randomly and needed that middle of the night glass of water, you were just hoping Chris would get it for you.

You trek up the stairs, maybe a little louder than you should’ve considering the time, entering the dark kitchen. You’re filling up a glass from the fridge when a voice calling your name startles you out of your thoughts.

You whip your head around, free hand clutching your chest as you turn, eyes landing on Nick sitting on the couch staring back at you with wide eyes.

“Nick?” You question, heart racing in your chest.

Nick slowly stands up and walks over to you where you’re seemingly glued to the floor, unable to move. You think maybe if you stay completely still you’ll disappear into the background and Nick will be none the wiser. But of course you weren’t so lucky, and he kept his eyes locked on yours until he was standing right in front of you.

“What are you doing here? When did you get here?” He questions, hands flailing as he spoke, clearly confused.

You swallow thickly, looking around like something in the room would hand you the perfect lie on a silver platter. “Uh… I’m…” You make eye contact with Nick again, smiling uncomfortably.

“Did you just come from downstairs?” Nick questions again.

Fuck.

“Downstairs?” You ask dumbly. “Why would I be… downstairs?”

Nick crosses his arms as he stares you down, gaze becoming more intimidating. “That’s exactly what I’m wondering. Because the only thing downstairs besides our garage is Chris’s room, and there’s no way you’d be in Chris’s room, right?”

You laugh, shoving Nick’s shoulder playfully. “Chris’s room? No way, no, I just, uh… I forgot something in there so I just went and grabbed it real quick.”

Nick furrowed his brow, not believing you. “I’ve been in here for two hours, which means you’ve been downstairs for at least two hours, and it’s the middle of the night. Are you sleeping in Chris’s room?”

There’s absolutely no way you wiggle yourself out of this one. You’re caught red handed by the loudest mouth in the family, no doubt in your mind Matt would know by morning. He’s got you cornered, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Except lie, you can always lie.

“Fine, I was in his room. You want me to be honest?” You sigh like you’re about to pour your heart out to Nick, setting your glass down on the counter. “We’ve been trying to work on our relationship. We know how annoying it is for you and Matt to deal with so we’ve been trying. We were talking last night and I told him I was exhausted and he offered to let me sleep on the couch in his room so I took him up on it and decided to crash there and leave in the morning before you guys woke up but obviously you’ve caught me.”

Nick narrows his eyes at you while you speak, trying not decide if he believed you or not, but ultimately he nods his head slowly, taking in your words. “Okay,” he starts. “That’s good, I guess. You could’ve told us that instead of sneaking around like a weirdo, I thought you were sleeping with him or something.”

You gasp and cringe a bit over-dramatically. “What?! No! Ew! Chris?! No!”

Nick holds his hands up for you to stop talking. “Alright, dude. Chill. I’m going to bed.”

You nod and clear your throat, picking up your glass from the counter. “Sure. Goodnight.”

Once you’re alone in the kitchen you let out a sigh of relief, leaning on the table like you just ran a marathon.

That was way too close.

-

from: chris <3

bathroom

You looked down at your phone that illuminated your face from where you’re sat on the couch next to Matt, legs thrown over his as you guys shared a blanket. The four of you were sat in the living room binging a show on Netflix, all spaced out at different ends of the couch except for you and your best friend. Chris, however, had gotten up to go to the bathroom a few minutes ago, and you did not expect him to request your presence, especially when both of his brothers were around, but the thought of sneaking around so close to them had you slightly hot and bothered as you looked at your phone.

“Uh, Matt?” You start sheepishly, looking up at the boy who stared mindlessly at the tv.

“Huh?” He replied, not looking down at you.

You clear your throat nervously. “Can I lay in your bed? I’m not feeling so good, I think I want to go to sleep.”

Matt tears his eyes away from the television finally, looking down at you worriedly. “Are you okay?” He asks, bringing a hand up to your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you chuckle, grabbing his wrist. “Just tired I think.”

Matt nods and pulls the blanket off of you both, letting you up. “Of course you can lay in my bed. Let me know if you need anything.”

You smile and nod at him, standing up and heading towards his room. When you get there, though, you look back at Matt and Nick to make sure they’re not looking before you slip into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

Chris smiles at you from where he sits on the closed toilet seat, reaching his hands out to graze over your thighs as you walked up to him, your own hands landing on his shoulders. “You look way too good right now, I just had to tell you.”

You blush, a shy smile gracing your face. “I look the same as I always look,” you mumble quietly.

“I know.” Chris agrees, standing up from his seated position and walking forward, pinning you against the wall. “You have no idea how bad I want you right now.”

You lean your head up towards Chris so your lips are barely touching, sliding your hands up under his shirt. “It’s too risky,” you tell him, disappointment clear in your voice. “They’ll hear.”

Chris whines, hands resting on your waist pulling your body closer to his. “Can’t you just be quiet? Just this one time?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s like asking a duck not to quack or something. It’s impossible. You’re too good for me to be quiet.”

“What if I kiss you the whole time to keep you quiet?” Chris bargains a little more.

Your hands trail down to Chris’s waistband of his sweatpants, thumbs looping underneath so you can start to pull them down, eyes still locked on his. “What if I just blow you? Since you’re so good at being quiet.”

You push his pants past his hips and let them fall to the ground, leaving him in just his tight, black Skims briefs that don’t leave much to the imagination, especially with his dick already straining against the fabric.

Chris hums in agreement, pressing his lips to yours for a moment before he pulls away, smirking at you. “I’m not gonna turn down a blowjob from the prettiest girl I know.”

You giggle quietly, still wanting to make sure the boys in the living room don’t hear you, slowly sinking to your knees in front of Chris, keeping eye contact with him the whole time you descended until you were face to face with his still clothed member, dropping your eyes down to it. “May I?” You ask sweetly, bringing a hand up to rub him through his underwear.

Chris breaths out a breath of relief and hums in agreement and you waste no time before grabbing the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down to join his sweatpants around his ankles. “I love your dick, Chris, you know that? It’s so good to me, never disappoints. I normally hate sucking dick but for you? It’s like the sexiest thing in the world to me. I love how you sound and how you pull my hair.” Your hand comes up to start stroking Chris languidly, thumb running over his slit every few times your hand comes back up to his tip.

Chris’s eyes are still on you, watching as you pleasure him with your hand, genuinely feeling like this would be enough for him to get off. Just the sight of you has his skin buzzing at all times, especially now that he knows what you sound like, what you feel like. He couldn’t get enough of you. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” He breathes out, hands reaching out to brace himself on the wall.

Your eyes shoot up to meet his for a moment, smiling at him before you open your mouth and guide his dick onto your tongue that lay flattened out, slapping it on the pink muscle before closing your lips around him, eliciting a quiet moan from his mouth.

He’s definitely quieter than you would be, but the thing you guys forgot to be mindful of was how long you were in the bathroom. It’s already been a few minutes of you in there together, and Chris was already in there for about five minutes before you joined him, so the time was ticking up, and you both were none the wiser, only focused on each other.

You had been enthusiastically sucking Chris off for a few minutes, hand stroking the base of his dick that didn’t fit in your mouth while your tongue trailed over the first few inches, eyes shut as you focused on his pleasure, making sure it was one of the best blowjobs he ever had, when there was a soft knock at the door, Matt’s voice ringing from the other side and ripping you both away from the trance you were in.

“Chris?” He calls, concerned. “You okay in there?”

This was terrible timing for Chris, as he had just started to feel his orgasm building in his stomach, his dick getting tenser and breath getting caught in his throat. You didn’t let up, though, just kept going and trying to bring him over the edge, finding the idea of someone just on the other side of that door, someone that had no idea what was going on and was just innocently checking on his brother.

Chris sucked in a breath and tried to even out his voice, eyebrows still furrowed in pleasure as he spoke. “Y-yeah, I’m okay, sorry, just on my phone,” he called back, sounding surprisingly convincing.

“Oh, okay,” Matt replies, but you don’t hear his footsteps leaving.

Chris turns to stare at the door, breath getting choppier and hips starting to stutter and push his dick father into your mouth, almost making you gag.

“Are you almost done? I gotta take a piss, dude.” Matt speaks up again, clearly still right outside the door.

Chris throws his head back and pulls one hand from the wall, grabbing a handful of your hair to keep your head in place as he starts to thrust his hips, now fully fucking your mouth as he neared his climax.

“I’m- fuck, I’m coming,” he replies, a double entendre unbeknownst to Matt as Chris cums in your mouth, warm liquid sliding down your throat and you accept it happily, swallowing around him as he breathes shakily, hips coming to a halt.

“Uh, okay,” Matt replies, finally walking away from the bathroom and back to the living room.

You slowly slide your lips off of Chris’s dick, biting your bottom lip as you rise back to your feet, face to face with him again. “That was so hot,” you whisper giddily, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Chris huffs, still trying to slow his heart rate. “That was terrifying,” he whispers back, but kisses you anyway, knowing it’s the last kiss he’ll get of the night.

-

It had become pretty routine for you to sneak into the triplets’ house at this point, almost exclusively coming in through the back door in Chris’s room where you would spend the rest of the night until you went home or spent the night, and it quickly became your favorite part of the day.

Chris had gone from the person you spoke to the least in your life to being your favorite person to be around, always laughing and smiling when you were with him, despite there not being a label on your relationship yet. However, you didn’t mind the lack of label quite yet, you both knew what this was and what you both wanted, you just didn’t want to rush slapping a name on it and making it so serious.

Tonight you both had decided to watch a movie together and cuddle up in bed, not worried about the fact that his brothers were home as they typically were but their rooms were so far away it almost didn’t matter how loud you guys got. Almost.

You’re laid in bed under Chris’s blankets on your back with him laid beside you on his side so he could face you, hand running underneath your shirt sweetly as his eyes trailed over your face. “You’re so fucking pretty, you know that?” He tells you quietly, causing a blush to arise on your cheeks.

You turn your head to meet his eyes, not responding. You didn’t really know what to say to that.

“I’m serious,” he continued, scooting closer to you. “I could look at you forever and never get bored. I love… everything about you.”

Those words made your heart race and almost made you want to cry. It wasn’t quite a confession of love just yet, not quite the three words that danced along your own tongue, but it felt so close that it still gave you a similar rush, the kind that made you want to say fuck it and tell everyone you knew about your newfound relationship. You couldn’t believe how sweet this boy was, how tender and caring, how many affirmations he would whisper to you out of the blue, how attentive he was. It all made it so easy to fall for him.

You still stayed quiet, but you reached your hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him down into a soft kiss. He leaned down over you, still running his hand over your soft skin under your shirt as your lips meshed together perfectly.

But nothing was perfect in this household, and you’ve known that for years, and you definitely should not have been shocked when Chris’s door flies open, his brothers standing on the other side. You’re hoping your instincts kick in quicker than they can make out your face, grabbing the blanket and pulling it fully over your head, hiding your identity.

Chris whips his head to look at the now open door, Matt and Nick staring back at him in shock. “What the fuck? Who is that?” Matt points to the bed, eyes wide.

Chris just looks down at the lump under his sheets, then back at his brother, shrugging his shoulders. “No one,” he said calmly.

Nick pushes past Matt with a smirk, nodding his head like he had all the answers. “I know exactly who that is, Matt.”

Matt turns to him, still confused. “You do?”

Nick nods again, raising his eyebrows towards Chris. “It’s that girl you went on a date with a few nights ago, isn’t it?”

Chris’s eyes widen, and your heart drops to your stomach. There’s no way, right? There’s no way Chris would hurt you like that, especially so soon. He wouldn’t go behind your back to see somebody else, would he?

“What?” Chris spats out. “What are you talking about, dude?”

Nick laughs, shaking his head. “So not the girl from the date? Is it the girl you’ve been fucking the last few weeks then? What’s her name, Maya?”

Maya, you think. That name is way too familiar.

“I haven’t been fucking Maya,” Chris defends, voice shaky.

The girl. The one he had taken all the photos for, the one he said was too clingy and he wanted to get rid of. He was still sleeping with her?

You swallow thickly, heart racing at every word being spoken. You felt like if you tried to stand, your knees would be too weak to hold you up, your hands shaking where they held the sheets.

In a split second decision, you brace yourself and pull the cover off of your face, sitting up slowly next to Chris. His brothers gasp at the sight of you, Nick screeching out your name in confusion. However, they’ve become background noise as your eyes lock with Chris’s, your own welling with tears uncontrollably. “Chris?” You whisper, lip quivering. “Is that true?”

Chris opens his mouth to speak, but closes it quickly as he realizes his brothers are still in the room. This was the most uncomfortable he’s ever felt in his life, feeling like everyone was turning to him for answers and his mind was reeling, not knowing what the right answer was for any of it, not wanting to hurt anybody’s feelings in the process.

You, though. You took his hesitation to speak as an answer, and a small, broken squeak left your lips as you got out of the bed, grabbing your sweater off of his couch. “Are you fucking serious?” You spat, slipping your shoes on next. “You’re still fucking somebody else when I’m not around? I knew this shit was too good to be true, you really are a fucking asshole, aren’t you?” Tears flowed freely down your face now as you spoke to him, his brothers standing in shock in complete silence, not knowing if what they walked in on was real or a hallucination.

“Wait, no, I’m not fucking with anybody,” Chris says, clambering off the bed towards you, hands grabbing your arms. You shook him off though, pushing him away by his chest.

“Don’t fucking touch me. Let’s just make our lives easier and go back to hating each other,” you tell him, staring up at him with red eyes, noticing his own starting to gloss over.

He’s silent, words caught at his throat as he watches you unfold in front of him, not knowing how he could save this in the moment. “Please,” he chokes out, a small tear sliding down his cheek. “Please don’t leave, it’s not true.”

You want to give in so badly, but you know Chris’s history, you know how much he fucks around and how many girls he’s used to talking to and you feel stupid for thinking he’d stop doing all of that for you. You actually feel like a fucking fool for thinking he’d change for you.

You shake your head at him and turn around, grabbing the handle of the door to let yourself out. Before you leave, though, you turn and look at Matt and Nick who are stuck to the floor in shock, mouths hanging slightly open as they watch the exchange. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”

You pull the door open and leave, shutting it quietly behind you as you start to walk to your car, soft sobs leaving your lips as you get further away from their house.

Chris stands there for a few moments staring at the door, before he turns around and glares at Nick, rage clear on his face despite the tears in his eyes. “Are you fucking serious?!” He screams, walking up to him and grabbing him by the collar, pushing him back a few steps until they reach the wall, Nick’s back pressed up against it. “Learn how to read a fucking room! You just lost me the girl I’ve been in love with for the last three fucking years, all because you don’t know when to stop talking!”

Nick’s eyes were wide as he grabbed Chris’s wrists, trying to get him to let go of him. “I’m sorry!” He squeaked out, staring into his brother’s eyes that spoke a thousand words.

Matt came up to them and placed a hand on Chris’s shoulder, trying to remain the calm one in the situation. “Hey, let him go, he didn’t know,” he said softly, rubbing up and down his arm when Chris finally let go of Nick, turning his younger brother to face him.

Chris’s eyes finally softened when he looked at Matt, knowing that if there was anyone here that cared for you as much as he did, it was Matt. “I love her,” he whispered, finally processing the words that he said out loud for the first time.

Matt nods at Chris and pulls him into a hug, rubbing his back. “I know, man. It’s okay, she’ll be fine, she’ll come around, she’s just upset right now, trust me. Once you explain everything she’ll come back to you.”

Chris hugs his brother back, hands gripping on the back of his shirt as he took shaky breaths in, still terrified he was going to lose you forever even though he barely got to have you.

“I need her.”

-

a/n: one more chapter for real this time gang

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @sturnburbs @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @sluttybitchformattsturniolo

[signanothername]

If someone had found baby corrupted nightmare and taken him in, raised him, like, say for example, blue, how differently do you think everything would have ended up?

(*COUGH COUGH* totally not just pushing my dad swap agenda nope nuh uh *COUGH*)

i just imagine nightmare sneaking into his room at night to curl up near his bed like a dog, and IMMEDIATELY skedaddling when he senses him wake up.

This poor kid is freshly dead (alive? Born?) he is in Desperate need of comfort 💀 but it's not like he's gonna ask for it outright.

And i horrendously need someone to hold him and give him warm food and new clothes and toys to play with and blankets and tuck him in at night and Hold Him and feed him medicine when he's sick and read hin bedtime stories and rock him to sleep and give him a comfort plushie or blanket or item of sorts and HOLD HIM and-

ahem, so anyway, what do you think? How differently do you think he would've ended up? Cuz i think it'd be a lot different if nightmare was shown care by someone for once and comforted by someone who wasn't a fellow traumatized six year old.

And, yknow, was an adult who knew what they were doing and didn't hate him for no reason 💀

Ooooh :D

Yeah I definitely think he would’ve grown up a much different person, cause he wouldn’t have relied on himself to survive, he wouldn’t experience the constant fear of the many ways he could get hurt or die

He definitely wouldn’t have starved on negativity cause he didn’t know how to balance it anymore

And if he was actually raised by a loving parent that’s actually present in his life to guide him through it enough to find a healthy outlet for the horrors he experienced, as well as help him with his emotional, mental, and physical health a lot better, his life would be a lot easier

I think he still would be a lot more grumpy and a bit aggressive than he was before the corruption, and the Apple incident would still have a great impact on his psyche, he’d still hold a bit of fear inside, but that fear won’t end up guiding all his actions, and it definitely wouldn’t lead to him becoming power hungry, doing whatever he deems necessary to obtain it

Hell, even with how the corruption twists his happiness from something pure to finding joy in the misery of others, I still think with a loving parent raising him, he will find healthy outlets to his emotions, whatever they may be

I think he might eventually tell his parent figure about what happened with him, with his mother, with his twin, maybe even Dream would find himself in a lot better circumstances when he awakens from stone, finding a brother patiently awaiting him, finding himself waking up in warm welcoming arms, I definitely think it’ll contribute to the twins’ relationship being a lot better, a lot healthier

Their trauma would still put a few wrenches in their journey, but it definitely wouldn’t go so sour and bitter, Nightmare would be a lot more open towards Dream’s love and affection, hatred won’t taint his heart and cause their relationship to go so wrong

Generally, I definitely think it’ll be a lot more fluffy and slice of life-ish, which is super wholesome to think about

Now as for Blue specifically being the father figure, only two words, FUCK YES.

But I feel like, as a very traumatized lil child who doesn’t know any better, who had adults hate, hurt and even try to kill him, Nightmare would simply not trust Swap, not immediately

So it’d be really fun to see Nightmare actually warm up to Swap first way before he takes Nightmare in to raise and take care of him, it’d be fun to see what Swap might do to gain Nightmare’s trust enough for Nightmare to even let him within 10 meters without running away immediately or attacking him

May I also present some suggestions for another parental figure that could be really fun to explore? Color, I’d love to see him take care of a little newly corrupted Nightmare dhhdhdhd

Anyway *cough* this is such an adorable possible multiverse *cough*

[planetpedri]

All in good time, — Franco Colapinto.

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader

Summary: When a college student meets her polar opposite in Franco Colapinto, she instantly disliked him. But, Franco was enamored with her and he would get her to like him, all in good time.

Word count: 1.65k+

Disclaimer/s: this is a hockey!au

A/N: this is for @purinfelix and jet only! though i love each and every one of you who choses to read it.. this was. this was ass girl shit i’m sorry i didn’t know where i was going toward the end… i may do another hockey player!franco fic tho but its going to be far more centered around the actual hockey

Franco Colapinto was a force to be reckoned with. Somehow, you’d gotten tangled into his life. When your dorm was being renovated and you needed a place to stay, your roommate suggested her friend’s house—that friend being Franco. A notorious hockey player for the Golden Knights.

He was, in simple terms, agitating. Your two and a half weeks staying in his basement was something close to hell on earth. He held parties, big ones! Ones that interrupted your studying, which he’d half ass apologize for the next morning while nursing a raging hangover, right before asking you to make your signature hangover recipe while he showered.

That was your payment for staying there. You nursed his hangovers and helped him come up with various excuses as to why he was late to practice, even going as far as to go out of your way to tell his coach you’d gotten terribly sick and he had to bring you to the hospital.

Two pea’s in a lying pod. That’s what you were.

In the first week, he’d convinced you to go to the rink to help him practice. You—only ever using figure skates—had a difficult time keeping up with him. You nearly broke a tailbone trying to catch up with him.

Franco held a lopsided grin when he stopped, ice shavings flying as he turned to face you. Though, you saw the concern flash across his face as he skated back in your direction, leaning down to help you up.

“I need an ice pack—“ Your lips formed a thin line, “actually, I need wine and an excuse to get out of this hell.”

The curly haired man laughed, pulling your hand over his shoulder as his free arm looped around your waist. Holding you up, he assisted you back to the bench, setting you down carefully.

Once you shifted to get comfortable, wincing in pain, you untie the laces on your skates. “How do you do this for a living? I’m fucking miserable and we’ve done this once.”

Franco shrugs, leaning his head against the tempered glass that separated the rink from the benches. “Maybe I will just have to put you to work.” His lips threaten a smirk, “if it helps, I do prefer practicing with you than my teammates.”

That wasn’t even particularly a lie. He tried to find ways to get to know you, but you were a tough nut to crack. He tried so hard to find ways to get in your good graces, and forcing you to hang out with him was the only way he could get you to spend quality time with him.

His flirting was what annoyed you the most. You couldn’t stand it, only because it made a weird feeling erupt in your stomach. “First of all, don’t let them hear that. Second of all, I will never do this again. Ever.”

Franco was a convincer. He was good at getting people to do things, and you were unfortunately, not exempt from that. Even when you were back in your dorms, he’d convinced you to join him at the rinks.

You rarely ever practiced with him, simply opting to watch from the stands. You hated to admit it, but you’d grown to enjoy the time spent with him. When he took breaks, he’d explain the rules to you, different tactics they used, various things.

When you’d get so engrossed in conversation, he’d slip in a question about you, that you’d answer without thinking. He was good at getting to know people, but you were a difficult case. He’d found a way eventually, only getting you to talk about yourself when you were so distracted you couldn’t think long enough to stop it.

“Hockey pucks are actually frozen before games to make them move faster and glide smoothly on the ice, so they don’t bounce a lot.” Franco was rambling about different facts, waiting for the perfect opportunity to slip in a question he’d been waiting to ask for weeks.

“Seriously? So they don’t just stay rubbery and lukewarm?” The last part was only slightly sarcastic, but the fact had actually surprised you.

“So.. are you seeing anyone?”

“No.” You pause, wait—what? You don’t get an opportunity to ask any further questions because he was already onto the next fact. “Franco!” You snap, interjecting his next rant.

Francos eyebrows raise slightly, “yeah?”

You narrow your eyes, licking your lips. “You just asked if I was seeing someone. Then—you know what. That doesn’t matter, what does though, is that you just slipped in a question that was not like the others you’ve slipped in.” His face contorts and you laugh, “i’m going to law school, I notice tactics like that.”

The hockey players mouth quirks, he wasn’t even slightly ashamed. “Oh, I love how smart you are.” He hums, “I was just curious. If you were, thank the lord you aren’t, but, he wouldn’t like you hanging out with me.”

“Thank the lord? Seriously?” Your eyes roll dramatically. The wooden bench beneath you feels stiff and uncomfortable the more he watched you with his stupidly smug face.

Franco nods, “hey—“ He begins untying his laces, “you should come to my game tomorrow. You haven’t come in a while.”

The topic switch was noticeable, but you ignore it. “I have a lecture late tomorrow. I’ll probably be tired.” But when Franco’s face changes into that familiar doe-eyed expression, you cave. “Fine! I’ll come! Quit looking at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“Yes you are”

“No i’m not.”

“Are too!”

“Let me take you to dinner.”

“Are—what?” Your brain stops working, words failing your tongue. Excuse you? “Wait a fucking minute—“

Franco watches you carefully. “Is that a no?”

“No! I mean—“ You were still a stumbling mess. Your mouth opening and clamping shut. “It’s a-well, I mean, It’s a yes! Yes, I will! Jesus, Franco. You couldn’t have asked any smoother?”

He’s smiling, finding your stammering all too amusing… and adorable. It was very cute. “It felt fitting to me.” He shrugs casually, slipping off his skates. “After the game and a shower, the diner you like a few blocks from your dorm?”

That was most definitely something he learned during his not-so-secret questionnaires.

“That sounds perfect.” You huff, “now, can you bring me home? I think i’m developing hypothermia.”

After changing into his regular shoes, he stands, offering you his hand. You take it, though it was with an eye roll. Franco smirks at your reaction, not commenting on it as he helps you to your feet.

“Does your body not ache every time you finish?” You ask as the two of you exit the arena, making your way through the dark parking lot.

You regretted your choice of words the second they left your lips. “Don’t even—“

“I have incredible stamina, actually.” Franco cheeses, slinging his arm around you. You allow it, even leaning into his side.

“You are insufferable.” You scoff, but the twitch of your lips betrayed your feigned annoyance.

The laugh that emits from Francos mouth has a smile growing on your lips, it was a sound you’d grown to enjoy.

Franco opens the passenger door for you, which had you suppressing a smile. It was a gesture he made every trip to the arena, in fact—Franco was very much a gentleman, despite boy boyish he could be.

Only when he was the drivers seat with the engine going and heater ablaze, does Franco finally grow serious. “Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, I know you’re sort of a people pleaser.”

Okay, ouch?

Franco’s eyes widen, “I didn’t mean it like that!” He says quickly, stumbling for a way to fix what he said.

You’d never seen Franco have to search for words to say. He was always so smooth and, well, he was never one to falter.

“I know what you meant, and you’re right. But, when have I ever gone out of my way to people please you.” You reassure him, a gentle look on your face. “I want this.”

The rest was history. You want Franco had been going steady for months. Whenever you had enough time in your busy college schedule, you went to his games, you were his number one cheerleader and support system.

Hockey had easily become your favorite sport, you knew everything about it due to Franco’s inability to ever stop talking. Thats probably what made the two of you such a perfect pair. You were quiet, he wasn’t. He was your polar opposite, the yin to your yang. And thats what made it work.

When you didn’t want to talk, he wasn’t there to fill the silence. When he didn’t want to talk, you enjoyed each other’s silence.

You had never thought in a million years, the man who annoyed you oh so much, was the same man you would grow to love.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future franco posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @purinfelix @sakashq @hrts4havertz @spidybaby

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! Congrats on 8k babe, it’s so so well deserved! If this inspires you could I request gift wrap and ‘mulled wine’ for Sirius??

Hi lovely Fawn, thanks so much <3

cw: alcohol

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 513 words

Sirius finds you curled up in a corner of the couch, nibbling on a thin slice of orange. You look rather content to be doing so, but he can never stand to see anyone sitting alone at a party, least of all you. You’ve uncovered soft spots Sirius didn’t know he had before he met you. 

“You’re making quick work of that,” he says, nodding to your full glass as he sits. 

You look down at it, a small frown denting the sweet bit of skin between your brows, not realizing Sirius’ teasing until he grins at you. 

“Careful, don’t want to get too sauced too fast.” 

“Mary brought it for me,” you say, almost as if in apology, “but I don’t really care for wine. It’s nice that it has these little oranges in it, though.” 

“You might find some raisins, too,” Sirius says smoothly. He ought to know, he’d fought James on it tooth and nail, but for some reason his friend was very attached to the inclusion of the raisins. Sirius has been paying extra attention to the bartender at the restaurant where he works, thinking about going for a job like that and brushing up on his mixology skills in the meantime, and James is of course taking full advantage of this new interest. Sirius keeps getting stuck on food and drinks at parties that aren’t even his. 

All well worth it, though, if it means a chance at impressing you. You and Sirius have only been on a few dates—not enough that he’d have brought you here tonight if you weren’t already friends with the girls—and he finds himself bending over backwards more than he’s used to in hopes of coaxing a smile or a laugh out of you. 

“It’s mulled wine,” he explains, hoping not to sound too pretentious about it (the way Remus gets after him, you’d think Sirius couldn’t help it half the time). “You might like it better than regular wine; it’s sweeter.” 

You look into your glass with new consideration, lifting your eyebrows minutely at him as you pick it up. This is the sort of look Sirius chooses to interpret as flirtation from you, though it may only be wishful thinking. You give the class a tiny swirl before bringing it to your lips. 

You don’t make a face or anything, only set it back down on your coaster and take another bite of your orange. “I think I might just stick with this,” you say gently. 

Sirius smiles in the face of defeat (it’s never looked so spectacularly beautiful). He makes a mental note not to do any more wine-based drinks for these parties. 

“Fair enough,” he says, fishing in his own glass for his orange. “Here, I’ll trade you.” 

Your lips tilt up as you accept it. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” Sirius smiles back at you, feeling his go lopsided. “Course. I can make you something else to drink, too, if you like.” 

Your eyes light with intrigue. “What can you make?” 

Sirius might just have a chance to impress you yet. 

[yuesya]

“… The hell is this?”

Zenin Naoya looks out into the ruins of an empty city that seems like something straight out of one of Mai-chan’s favorite post-apocalypse films, and frowns hard.

KrrrgkHSSS-!

“Quiet,” he snaps, and stomps down, twisting his heel.

Beneath his feet, the tricky cursed spirit responsible for teleporting him to god-knows-where groans pitifully one last time, and then falls silent. Naoya would like nothing better than to put it out of its misery immediately, but given that he currently has no idea where he is and the cursed spirit is the one responsible for bringing him here… well, if need be, he’ll need to force it to bring him back, somehow.

Naoya sighs, and returns his attention to his surroundings again.

… He’s still in Japan, that’s for certain. A lot of buildings look halfway-to-completely destroyed, but there are still street signs written in Japanese that Naoya can make out.

But it’s quite strange. Because such devastating destruction on this scale is something that people would notice, and Naoya has not heard anything about any cities being leveled by cursed spirits or curse users recently.

The last one who’d attempted to do such a thing had been swiftly torn to pieces by Shiki-sama. Their decapitated head –which remained alive and animated, somehow– currently still hangs over the Disciplinary Pit. There was a marked decrease in the number of people who dared to test Shiki-sama’s patience following her new addition to the Pit.

Naoya has never been cast into the Pit before, and he has no desire to change things on that front. Not just because the new addition to it is creepy, but also because if Naoya was cast into the Pit, then it would mean that Shiki-sama was disappointed in him. Couldn’t have that happening now, could he?

… Shiki-sama wouldn’t throw him into the Pit if he was late coming back from a mission, right?

Naoya pauses, and scowls. This was–

…!

The young man whirls around.

There’s –there’s some strange cursed energy that suddenly appeared out of nowhere, apropos of nothing. Thick and roiling, all bloodthirst and malice, overwhelming and cloying in such a… in such an unrefined way. Naoya remembers Shiki-sama releasing her cursed energy, less a distinct weight pressing down upon an individual and more just the simple surety of you are going to die, and although this cursed energy that Naoya is sensing is… considerable… it still does not hold a candle to his clan head.

But it is definitely unnatural, and not the sort of thing that your average sorcerer can deal with. Most people are weaklings, and as such must look to those who are strong to protect them. People who are powerful, unstoppable forces of nature –like Shiki-sama. Toji-kun.

(And one day, Naoya will also be amongst them. He knows he will be. It’s why Shiki-sama chose him as her heir, isn’t it?)

Naoya locks the cursed spirit beneath his feet in a trap-barrier, then bolts for the source of the unsettling cursed energy. Special Grade, definitely. Was it responsible for the destruction that Naoya saw in his current surroundings?

Naoya rounds the corner and–

“Hah?”

… What the fuck?

Fushiguro Megumi is the source of this vile cursed energy? And he’s… fighting Maki-chan? Wait, why does Maki-chan have burn scares all over her body? And who’s the pink-haired boy jumping into the fray, too?

The sight is so surreal that Naoya finds himself staring at the sight for a moment, dumbfounded.

But the details click together swiftly enough; that’s not Megumi-kun’s energy that Naoya is sensing, and Megumi-kun isn’t fighting using any of the techniques that Toji-kun had taught him. Megumi-kun also has a wide, deranged grin splitting his face –which is not an expression that Naoya thinks Megumi-kun would ever be caught with.

That’s not Megumi-kun.

… There’s something possessing Megumi-kun?

Holy shit. There’s still someone this suicidal out there? Didn’t they realize that Toji-kun would absolutely murder them for this?

Cursed energy swells, and rises. A different cursed energy signature –one that does not belong to the combatants, or to Naoya. One that causes the surrounding temperature to drop drastically, and between one moment and the next, there is a gargantuan, towering wave of ice that sweeps out–

–primarily targeted at Maki-chan–

And Naoya moves.

[vigilskeep]

Do we know enough about how Crow succession and talonship works to believe it would be possible for Viago to take the seat of first talon either through some sort of non-violent coup in the absence of an heir to house Dellamorte or through marrying his kid (rook) off to Lucanis? Asking because I really don't know and would love to write something in that direction...and you seem a crow enthusiast...also love your blog

THEORETICALLY. yes.

we haven’t seen the talons shift directly, but they do shift, with regularity. house arainai was first talon in living memory and then fell slowly downwards to their current point where they’re struggling in and out of eight talon like a drowning man who keeps finding his way to air for just enough breath

the eight talons system, if you’ll allow me the tangent, is a really fascinating choice of fantasy hierarchy because it is such a clear hierarchy. among a bunch of ambitious killers whose prime goal is notoriety. you can only hold each position here if everyone below you is too afraid to do anything about it. what an anxiety trip it must be to decide whether to push someone down just one rung or to try to destroy them entirely; do you want to leave your rival with more opportunity or more motivation? but crow power is also all about theatre, all about perception—you are first or fifth or seventh talon primarily because everyone agrees that you are—so making a failed gambit for a higher talon has got to be incredibly damaging. which is a risky setup. it discourages attempts, but when someone does make an attempt, they will not be fucking around

anyway ignore all that we’re talking about soft takeovers today. okay so house dellamorte has a dying core family, theoretically. we’re making the assumption that no surviving young children from any branch of the family are mentioned because none exist. we have two heirs, neither very acceptable (my apologies to caterina’s delusions), both men in their 30s with (again, assumed) no children, and neither making much progress in that regard. (arguably dependent on player choice when it comes to lucanis, but since he can fall in love with and express his undying devotion to any kind of rook, we can at least say he’s not making that much effort.) within a generation the core family may die out. but that is a LONG TIME to wait. you still have to deal with the current ones, they’re pretty robust

lucanis is the current first talon as of the end of veilguard. can he be convinced to give this up and hand first talon over to someone better suited? i do believe it. mostly because i need to believe, for my mental health, that we can get him out of there. but he also now has a fairly bulky support system full of people who love him and will notice how bad this is going to be and convince him he deserves things like a life he doesn’t hate

as always your main problem is caterina. caterina is not going to allow a takeover, soft or otherwise, while she is still alive. caterina didn’t give up first talon when they murdered her children. there’s probably an emotional plot in here where she can be made to accept what she’s done to her family, far too late, but with time left to save just one by letting him go. on the other hand, i’ve also been experimenting with plots in my mind where she tries to quietly get rid of viago or romanced rook for having too much influence, with the added benefit on hopefully being able to steel & refocus lucanis on defending the house against whoever she frames. or plots where she blames lucanis trying to leave and not being the boy she remembers on his, you know, demonic possession, and attempts to forcibly remove or destroy spite. so. there’s potential ups and downs, here.

i don’t know how helpful rook de riva/lucanis is. most of your problem here is that everything that sets this ending up by giving the de rivas more power, and by giving any rook more power over lucanis, is something that in my mind would crank caterina’s wariness all the way up. house de riva surely has to move up from fifth already after the events of the game and look more like a contender, and i don’t think even caterina’s delusions about lucanis’ suitability for first talon could make her blind to the effect rook can obviously have. i definitely think she would delay on a marriage and have the power to do that

i think it’s worth saying that rook de riva at any point bringing up to lucanis the idea of handing things over to viago would be a hell of a conversation. i know lucanis never remotely suspects rook of any agenda and trusts them completely, and i know i agree with rook here, but you’ve GOT to see how “i love you and having power is bad for you and what you should do is hand it all over to my talon” sounds. i truly could not blame him for a bit of doubt here especially if caterina was around to suggest it

sorry this is a completely messy and disconnected response. i don’t even know if i had a point. you might have to wait for caterina to actually die? is that my point? i can see rook de riva/lucanis being helpful to ease a transition of power to house de riva then. i also think it’s worth pointing out that teia might be the better contender for all this out of the two lovebirds. what quietly makes teia probably the most dangerous talon in the crows, if she ever chose to be, is that everyone likes her. i’m not joking or trying to handwave crow politics, it’s a form of soft power and the result of her cultivated skill that nobody ever suspects teia of anything. even caterina treats her gently, and literally a talon who tried to murder all the others in tevinter nights was delaying murdering her because she was his favourite. if anyone can handle a gentler transition like what we’re talking about, maybe it’s more likely to be teia

[hplonesomeart]

Hey. Sorry about the inactivity, but pretty sure no one cared that much anyways lol. Been a looooong time since I kept that distant from Tumblr…at least now I know I’m able to survive without checking posts every day/being chronically online! I’ve got an intense love-hate relationship with this lifestyle I’ve dug myself into. Think I’m getting a little bit better with the balance even if school isn’t really giving me an option. Got a load of work I need to keep catching up on if I don’t want to disappoint my professors. We’ll survive somehow. Here take a quick batch of Puzzle doodles k bye

[daisymbin]

Hi belle!! ive loved all the mingyu drabbles ive read from u!! 💗 may i request a mingyu 2nd chance romance with prompt no. 5? 🥹

hello!! yes you definitely can!! & thank you for your compliments 🥹🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // gyu's m.list

second chance prompt #5: "I still keep your picture in my wallet."

mingyu had always been good at pretending. pretending he didn’t still think about you when he woke up in the morning, pretending that he didn’t miss the way you laughed, how your presence could fill up a room. he was good at pretending, until he saw you again.

when he walked into the café, with the sun hitting your face just right, mingyu felt his chest tighten. he wasn’t supposed to be here. not like this. he had told himself time and time again that seeing you again would only make it worse. but when joshua casually mentioned you were in town, mingyu couldn’t stop himself from asking if he could come along.

he hadn’t realized how much he needed to see you until now, until he was standing next to you, feeling that familiar pull he’d tried so hard to bury.

as he paid for everyone's drinks, mingyu didn’t notice the photo slip from his wallet until it fluttered onto the counter.

it was the polaroid of you at the beach. he’d kept it there for so long, tucked into the folds of his wallet, a small token of a time that felt so far away but still so close.

he watched as you froze, your eyes locking onto the photo with a recognition that hit him like a punch in the gut.

"why..." you whispered, your voice cracking. "why do you have this still?"

mingyu’s heart dropped. he wasn’t sure why he’d kept it. maybe it was because he still couldn’t let go. maybe it was because he knew, deep down, that the version of you in that picture—the carefree, happy version—was something he would never find again. not with anyone else.

“i still keep your picture in my wallet,” he admitted, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.

your gaze never left the photo, your breath catching in your throat. mingyu’s chest ached, knowing how much the past still hurt you.

“mingyu…”

he ran a hand through his hair, wishing he could take back the way things ended between you. “i know. i know i messed up. i shouldn’t have pushed you away like that. but i couldn’t throw this away. it felt wrong to.”

you looked at him then, your eyes filled with so many emotions he couldn’t decipher. “you’re still holding on to this... after everything? after we—”

“i couldn’t forget you,” he cut you off, his words spilling out before he could stop them. “i’ve tried, but i can’t. you were never just a phase for me. you were... everything.”

he saw the way your lip trembled. “why did you leave then?”

mingyu swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “i thought i was doing the right thing. i thought it would be easier if i just let you go. i thought maybe you’d be happier without me.”

“you’re a fool,” you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes. “you broke me, mingyu.”

he felt the sharp sting of those words deep in his chest. “i know. i know i did, and i hate myself for it.”

“so why now?” you asked, voice breaking. “why did you reach out now, after all this time?”

mingyu’s eyes softened. “because i couldn’t stay away. seeing you again—it felt like a sign. a chance to fix the mess i made.”

“but i don’t know if i can trust you again.” you wiped away a tear, turning your face away.

his heart cracked at the sight. “i wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t. i wouldn’t blame you if you hated me for what i did.”

“i don’t hate you,” you said quietly, voice almost a whisper.

mingyu took a step closer, hesitating before he reached out and gently cupped your cheek. “then why do you look like you’re about to cry every time you look at me?”

you met his gaze, eyes glossy with emotion. “because i still care about you, mingyu. i still miss you. i never stopped loving missing you.”

he let out a breath, the weight of your words settling on him like a heavy burden. he had been a fool. “i didn’t want to hurt you. i swear to god, i didn’t. but i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“so, what now?” you asked, looking at him through a haze of tears. “what do we do now?”

mingyu could feel the answer in his bones. he’d never been more certain of anything in his life.

“we try again,” he said, his voice firm, resolute. “we start over. i’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that i can be the person you deserve.”

your eyes searched his, doubt lingering behind your gaze. “you mean it?”

“i wouldn’t say it if i didn’t,” he said softly, his thumb brushing across your cheek. “i’ve never meant anything more.”

you stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. finally, you let out a shaky breath and nodded. “okay,” you whispered. “but don’t mess this up, mingyu. i can’t go through this again.”

“i won’t,” he promised, leaning in and gently pressing his forehead to yours. “i swear to you, i won’t mess it up this time.”

he didn’t need words to tell you how much he meant it. his lips found yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. the world outside faded, and for the first time in a long time, mingyu felt like he was home.

[yourstrulysylus]

Burn the world for you

The room was filled with a thick tension, the air practically crackling with the animosity between them. They had been lovers once, but now they were nothing more than enemies - their love reduced to a distant memory.

Sylus stood across from you, his eyes burning with anger as he spoke. An unexpected visitor trespassed in his house as the thunderstorms being heard across from the windows at night.

“What do you want, my Queen?” He spat out, his voice laced with venom. He was standing in his own study the only place where he would find solace and it was something that he always maintained in his manor since this was the very room where their love began and he felt that it was about to end here as-well.

She pointed her silver revolver at him while his body stiffened with the silent threat of violence in his presence. The audacity to aim a gun at his own home and yet he chuckled as his eyes playfully glinted at the woman that he once loved before him.

She was silent and he didn’t like it - he missed her witty remarks. Their conversations where he feels like the world does not matter but them. Her voice. He would do anything just to have her utter a word disclose her reasons as to why she was here standing before him wearing that beautiful dark maroon strapless dress that shows off her perfect curves and that fine slit of her skirt that reveals a bit of her long leg that’s laced with a black stockings to pair with her high heels after all these years.

Of all things she chose to wear a ravishing dress while attempting to annihilate him. He caught a glimpse of her scent. Oh my love. Her familiar sent shivers down to his spine because he knew how much that was his favorite perfume of hers. Pomegranates and black orchids.

“You really want to go down this path, my lady?” He mocked her knowing that her powers may be an equal to his however not exactly experienced as he was putting it into good use.

She clicked the safety lock off as a response so he pointed his gun at her as well, a flawless aim all it takes is one shot and it shall be done. The sound breaking the silence of the room his eyes brows frowned his body tensing as he realizes the gravity of the situation.

“You’re serious,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff. “You’re really gonna do it.”

He heard her gasp the sudden surprise on her face giving away the awful feeling that she had at that moment despite the intense situation a part of him was amused by her reaction.

“What’s the matter, my love?” He asked, a small smirk on his face. “Suddenly having second thoughts, aren’t we?”

She used her evol to get closer in a snap now both feeling each other’s breaths approximately she pointed her gun at his head intensifying her aim. This moment felt like a deja vu - as that lifetime ago he was forcing her to resonate with him desperate for her to remember their life together. Their marriage.

His smirk faded instantly replaced by a sudden surprise and disbelief. He tensed further as she pressed her gun harder at his head the cold metal scraping against his skin.

“You’re insane,” he said, his voice low and dangerous he pointed the gun deeper at her chest where her aether core is - her heart. He was only mirroring her actions.

“They sent me to kill you.” She finally spoke.

His expression hardened, his eyes darkening with anger. Was that really the reason? He could his evol at this very moment to see if she was telling the truth but he loved her too much to doubt her word.

“Ordered to murder me? By who?” He frowned but his voice softened now that she’s standing close before him.

“My father, he knows you’re after his kingdom and then bedded his daughter? You provoked him more than enough times.”

He changed his position he was now standing beside the door of his study by using his own evol while she’s now by his window distancing himself to compose himself once again. He was being hunted and now his love was the chosen one to kill him.

The guns were still aimed at each other the metallic click of the triggers still filled the air. The air in the room was thick with tension, the weight of the situation almost suffocating.

He locked his eyes with her his gaze unwavering and intense. “You’re not pulling that trigger, my love.” He said as a matter of fact tone. “You’re too much of a spoiled precious little kitten to do it.”

Not looking away from his gaze she said,

“Try me.”

Time seemed to slow down as he watched her cock the gun and aim it at herself she pointed it at her own neck where her carotid artery is located a fastest way to take one’s life. His eyes widened with horror a mixture of panic, confusion and shock. He lunged forward and caught her lifeless body his hands trembling as he gently caressed her face. His eyes were filled with despair and misery - he felt like he’s losing his breath at the scene before him.

He gently placed his forehead against hers “No, no, no..” she placed her hand to cup his cheek slightly tasting Sylus’ salty tears on her mouth.

“I’d rather die than kill you.”

His hands continued to cradle her lifeless body as he whispered to you his voice thick with grief and despair.

“You… your foolishness this isn’t what I…” his voice shaking “you’d throw your life away like that just to keep me alive? I could have died with you.”

“Sylus, I love you.” Her eyes closed as she said her final words her hand fell from his cheek. The sight of her still lifeless body was too much for him to bear. It took him a few moments to compose himself still holding her in his arms and vowed to himself that he would burn the world for her.

[eternalbuckley]

His everything. — aemond targaryen

SUMMARY: You help Aemond to calm down before he was about to meet your family for the first time since you've been in a relationship.

word count: 1,781

genre: fluff | no specified reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings/tropes: modern au, aemond feels insecure, it's mentioned that reader has siblings, parents and grandparents, reader wears lipstick and earrings, english is not my first language, slightly proofread — if I forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: i needed to write some fluff for our favourite silver-white haired man again. it's been some time since i've published something here because i'm still working on my au for him BUT i needed to write something else, so i hope you enjoy it <3 reblogs, feedback and comments are highly appreciated and welcomed!

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!

stars and moon divider by cafekitsune

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“Babe, are you ready?” You asked Aemond while you walked into his bedroom and fixed your earring. You were about to drive to your parents’ home to have a dinner with your family. A family dinner where you would finally introduce Aemond to your loved ones. You were nervous about their reactions and if they’d accept your relationship, but so was he for many reasons. He wanted to make sure that your family would like him, but he was still feeling very uneasy – given that he didn’t want to potentially lose you. You had been together for over a year now and it was the best year both of you ever had – and you wanted to share many more with each other.

You saw your boyfriend sitting on his bed, fiddling nervously with his fingers and staring down at the floor. “Babe?” You asked him again; this time, your voice was softer. You didn’t want to accidentally startle him in case he was lost in his thoughts, which happened often some days.

Aemond didn’t look up or turn his head to you, but you noticed that his leg started to bounce. You walked up to him, “Hey… What’s going on in your mind?”, you spoke with a tender and caring tone in your voice as you stood in front of him. You gently cupped his face with your hands to tilt his head and make him look up at you. You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs and watched him closing his eye for a moment and taking a deep breath.

“I’m nervous…” Aemond mumbled and opened his eye. He looked into yours for a moment before he put his hands on your hips and pulled you closer, so you stood between his legs. He nuzzled his head into your stomach and sighed contentedly. You moved your hands to his hair and carefully brushed over his head, helping him to relax with your gentle touch.

You already assumed why he was nervous – it would be the first time he’d finally meet your family. You knew your family had their prejudices about other people, it was basically a part of their nature. They always had their specific opinions, especially if they were about members of other influential families in Westeros – just like yours. The world you and Aemond live in isn’t always the easiest one. Yes, you may have opportunities some other people aren’t able to have but growing up with the world having its eyes on each step you both take and the responsibilities you have, has taken a toll on both of you many times in your lives. His family expected a lot of him, and so did yours. And in this big chaos in your lives, you and Aemond found each other and fell in love.

It may be the first time your family would be meeting him, and they had heavy prejudices about the silver-white haired man, especially because he was a Targaryen, after all. They were very biased due to different things they had heard and seen of his family already, but they were open to meeting him – for you. They knew about your relationship for months by now and how happy you have been since you met him. Even if they had their prejudices, they were eager to meet the man who made you so much happier.

You knew how protective they were over you, especially your older siblings. After two failed relationships in the past, they always looked out for you and hoped you’d eventually find someone who was good for you and treated you well enough. After all, you found that someone and that person was Aemond, he made you feel complete, loved and seen for who you are. Even if you had been together for over a year already, there hasn’t been a moment yet where you could have introduced Aemond to your family until tonight. You didn’t put in a lot of effort to actually find a fitting day to introduce Aemond to your family – you wanted them to meet him but you were too afraid that they could or would try to find something to ruin this for you, even if you were completely sure that they would not succeed. Aemond understood that feeling perfectly, he wasn’t ever pressuring you to do anything you weren’t ready to do, even if it meant waiting longer.

You had met his family before, and it would be a lie if you’d say you were relaxed back then. Luckily everything went well, and you get along with his closest ones, especially his siblings. But you were just as nervous about meeting them as Aemond was about meeting your family, you knew what he was feeling. He was afraid that they would not like him for different things, one of them being that he was a Targaryen and the reputation some of his family members – if not all – had, or even the different rumours about him and his family. There were days when it didn’t bother him, but on other days, he felt incredibly bothered by it. One of these days was today.

“What if they won’t like me?” He looked up to you, his chin resting on your stomach, “If they’ll dislike me for who I am? If I fail to impress them? I know they aren’t very fond of the stories about my family. Even I’m not happy about some of them,” his voice was rough as he spoke, “They’ll hate me. If not for the way I am, they might find something else to dislike about me. I know that.”

You looked down at him and brushed a hair strand out of his face. Your gaze softened, but your heart wrenched as you listened to your boyfriend’s worries, “You won’t have to impress anyone. If you’re yourself, it will be enough. You don’t have or need to put on a show for them, my love. I love you, and that’s what matters, okay?” You leaned down and kissed his forehead, he closed his eye and hummed before you continued to speak. “I know they have their opinions about your family, but I’m sure that they’ll see what I see in you once they get to know you. It will be okay, and even if it won’t be okay, you won’t lose me. I care about my family, but so do I care about you, and I won’t let any of them get between us, okay?”

“I love you so much,” Aemond whispered, his tensed shoulders dropping as he seemed more relaxed again. He gently pulled you on his lap to straddle him, “I’m most terrified to meet your father and grandfather,” he mumbled as he snuggled into your arms even more after he wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder.

You chuckled and moved your arms around his neck, gently stroking his back and neck with your hands. “Well… If you want to be terrified of someone, it should be my grandma,” you warned him playfully, “My father and grandpa may seem like a dangerous and hard to crack duo, but my grandma is harder to crack than anyone else in my family.” You noticed his body tensing up again as he slowly lifted his head to look at you with an uneasy expression, “But she is one of the most loving people in the whole wide world once she gets to know you better, I promise,” you quickly added. “She’s just very protective of me and my siblings, which doesn’t mean anything negative. There just might be a few…” You exhaled, “Uncomfortable questions she might ask you, but it’s her way of making sure you’re good enough for one of her grandchildren. I’m not helping to calm you down, am I?” You whined at the end of your sentences, but he chuckled and shook his head – he felt calmer again.

“It’s okay, Issa jorrāelagon (my love),” he spoke tenderly with a small smile tugged on his lips. You kissed his cheek, which left a small amount of your lipstick on it, “Sorry,” you giggled softly and gently wiped the lipstick away with your thumb. You looked him in his lilac eye and held each other’s gaze for a moment.

Aemond leaned his forehead on your shoulder again, “Thank you for being there for me, love. I’m still nervous about the dinner, but I have you, you’re all I need to feel better.” He left a tender kiss on your collarbone and shoulder while his fingers circled on the flesh of your hips.

You kissed the side of his head and gently swayed both of you, telling him that he was good enough for you and how lucky you are to be with him. Telling him how happy you’ve been ever since you’ve met and got closer with him. That he was the love of your life, no matter what your family might think of him in the end. No matter what would happen at the dinner tonight. You’d always love him. He was your person, and you were his.

After a few minutes, you slightly pulled away from him and removed your comfort bracelet from your wrist – which he got for you on your second date. “Here,” you put the bracelet on his wrist, which caused him to smile again, “I know that it helps you every time you feel nervous. So… You’ll wear this tonight, okay, my love? I’m still going to be there at your side all night, and nothing will happen. If anyone in my family wants to say something negative, I’ll tell them to fuck off because I definitely won’t let them get between us. I promise.”

His smile widened and he moved his hands over your wrists and held your hands. He moved them to his lips and kissed your knuckles tenderly, “What would I just do without you in my life?”

You giggled softly and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. “I love you so much,” you mumbled against his lips. “And I love you,” he responded and kissed you again.

Aemond felt ready for whatever might happen tonight, as long as he had you by his side, he was ready to face it all. Even if he was still worried about the potential outcome, he wasn’t going to let you go. Not after everything he was able to feel just because of you. You made him happier; you made him feel seen and loved – something he had been missing and wasn’t able to fully experience many times in his life before he met you. You were his everything.

[aventurineswife]

may i please request sampo (you choose the other characters) with a dog hybrid gender neutral reader? in the sampo one, can the reader fall asleep on top of him in dog fashion?

Lay Your Head, Rest Your Heart

Tags: Sampo x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Dog Hybrid!Reader, Fluff, Found Family, Light Humor, Comfort, Slow-Burn Romance, Protective (?).

Warnings: Minor gambling references (Aventurine's part), Slight teasing and playful banter, Fluffy physical affection (ear ruffling, head pats, cuddling)

Sampo strolled through the bustling marketplace, his jacket fluttering with every smooth stride. His eyes gleamed with mischief, darting from stall to stall, calculating potential profits. Business was good, but it got even better when he had an adorable partner in crime—or, rather, a partner in occasional chaos. That partner was you, a loyal, dog hybrid who, despite your wagging tail and puppy-like energy, often brought him a surprising amount of good fortune.

“Sampo! Look at this!” you barked excitedly, holding up a shiny trinket you’d found at a nearby stall.

Sampo chuckled, running a gloved hand through his hair. “Nice find, pup. But remember, the best treasures aren’t the ones you buy—they’re the ones you ‘acquire.’” He winked, leaning down to ruffle your ears.

You scrunched your nose but didn’t argue. He had a point. Sampo always knew how to turn a simple situation into something profitable—or at least amusing.

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The marketplace had begun to quiet down, but the day’s adventures left you utterly exhausted. You let out a long yawn, your tail wagging lazily behind you.

Sampo glanced over, smirking. “Tired already? You’re supposed to be the energetic one!”

“Shut up.” you muttered, plopping down on a soft patch of grass.

Sampo joined you, leaning back on his elbows. “I’ve got to admit, you make the day a lot more interesting. Not every merchant can say their partner chased off a Silvermane Guard by barking at them like a mad pup.”

You grinned, your sharp teeth glinting in the fading light. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Before Sampo could reply, you crawled over and flopped onto him, your head resting against his chest. He froze, blinking in surprise.

“Uh…not that I mind, but what’s this about?” he asked, though his voice was softer than usual.

“Comfy...” you murmured, nuzzling into his jacket. Your ears twitched slightly, and your tail wagged a couple of times before going still.

Sampo sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Of course you’d use me as a pillow. What else am I good for, huh?”

Despite his teasing tone, he didn’t move. If anything, he adjusted his position to make sure you were comfortable, even if it meant lying awkwardly on the uneven ground.

As you drifted off, Sampo stared up at the starry sky, the usual glint of mischief in his mint-green eyes replaced with something softer. He reached out with a gloved hand, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

“You’re a weird one, you know that?” he whispered, though there was no malice in his tone—just quiet affection. “Not many people trust ol’ Sampo enough to sleep on me. Guess you’re either braver or crazier than the rest.”

The gentle rhythm of your breathing was his only response.

For once, Sampo didn’t think about profits or schemes. He simply lay there, enjoying the warmth of your presence and the rare tranquility that came with it.

“Guess I’ll let you off the hook this time,” he murmured, closing his eyes with a faint smile. “But don’t expect me to make this a habit, pup.”

Yet, even as he said it, he knew he wouldn’t mind if you did.

Aventurine adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, their rose-tinted lenses catching the low light of the casino floor. The clinking of chips and the whirring of roulette wheels filled the air, but none of it distracted him. With a flourish, he placed his final bet on the roulette table, the corner of his mouth lifting in his signature confident smirk.

"Let’s make this one count." he murmured, leaning back as the wheel spun.

Beside him, you—his ever-loyal dog hybrid companion—sat cross-legged on a velvet bench, your tail wagging idly as you observed the chaos of the casino.

“Do you ever get tired of this?” you asked, your ears perking up as someone cheered in the distance.

Aventurine chuckled, turning his gaze towards you. “Tired? Of course not. The thrill of the gamble is what keeps life interesting, darling.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled nonetheless. “You and your dramatic flair.”

“Flair is what makes me charming.” he countered, his voice dripping with amusement.

As the roulette wheel slowed, the ball clicked into place. A chorus of gasps rippled through the table as Aventurine’s number came up. He leaned forward with a mock gasp of his own, gathering the chips with practiced ease.

“Would you look at that? Lady Luck smiles upon me once again.” he said, sending you a wink.

You shook your head, unable to hide your grin. “You’re unbelievable.”

The casino emptied as the night wore on, leaving the two of you to wander back to Aventurine’s suite. It was as extravagant as one would expect from someone like him—gold accents, plush furniture, and a panoramic view of the glittering cityscape below.

You flopped onto the oversized couch, your tail thumping softly against the cushions. “I’m exhausted. How do you have so much energy after all that?”

Aventurine removed his choker, draping his coat over a nearby chair. “It’s all about pacing yourself. Though, if you’re tired, I suppose we could call it an early night.”

“Early? It’s nearly morning!” you teased, stretching out with a yawn.

He chuckled, grabbing a blanket from a nearby cabinet. “Fair enough.”

You watched as he settled into an armchair, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he sorted through the chips he’d won earlier. The sound of them clicking together was oddly soothing, lulling you into a sense of calm.

Before long, you found yourself sliding off the couch and padding over to him. Without a word, you curled up on his lap, your head resting against his chest.

Aventurine stiffened for a moment, caught off guard. “Comfortable, are we?” he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and fondness.

“Very...” you murmured, already half-asleep.

He sighed, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he draped the blanket over you both. His fingers absently brushed through your hair, his usual bravado replaced with quiet contentment.

“For someone who claims I’m ‘unbelievable,’ you seem to trust me an awful lot.” he mused, his voice low.

You didn’t respond, your breathing slow and steady as sleep claimed you.

Aventurine leaned back in his chair, his eyes softening as he gazed down at you. In all his years of gambling, scheming, and taking risks, he’d never expected to find someone who made him feel this… grounded.

“Not bad for a gambler’s companion...” he whispered, the usual sharpness in his voice replaced by something gentler.

The roulette of life kept spinning, but for now, he was content to stay right where he was—at least until morning.

[kathlare]

virtual connection

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie takes a rare break from her busy filming schedule in Indianapolis and decides to spend a quiet evening with Lando. Despite the distance between them, they connect through a virtual date night, complete with a movie and playful conversation. As they share a comfortable and heartfelt evening, their bond deepens, revealing how much they miss each other and how their relationship continues to grow, even from afar.

Wordcount: 1.3 k

Warnings: just fluff

May 21st, 2024 - Indianapolis, IN

It was late afternoon in Indianapolis when Amelie finally had a free day. The past week had been an exhausting blur of rehearsals, fittings, and long hours on set, and she was feeling the weight of it all. The constant pressure of filming Stranger Things—the long takes, the constant changes in her character’s storyline—had started to take a toll. But today, for once, there was a break in the chaos. Her schedule was clear, and she could finally breathe.

But even with the rare moment of peace, there was something—or rather, someone—she couldn’t shake from her mind.

Lando.

He was back in Monaco, having just wrapped up a successful stint in Canada. He was home, and while she was glad he had a bit of time to relax, the distance between them had been harder to handle recently. It had been weeks since they’d seen each other in person, and with her filming schedule and his race calendar, it didn’t look like that would change anytime soon.

She sighed as she set her phone down on the coffee table, knowing exactly what she needed to make the day feel better. A few minutes later, she grabbed a blanket from her bed and tucked herself into the couch, fingers already flying across the screen.

It was late afternoon in Indianapolis when Amelie finally had a free day. The past week had been an exhausting blur of rehearsals, fittings, and long hours on set, and she was feeling the weight of it all. The constant pressure of filming Stranger Things—the long takes, the constant changes in her character’s storyline—had started to take a toll. But today, for once, there was a break in the chaos. Her schedule was clear, and she could finally breathe.

But even with the rare moment of peace, there was something—or rather, someone—she couldn’t shake from her mind.

Lando.

He was back in Monaco, having just wrapped up a successful stint in Canada. He was home, and while she was glad he had a bit of time to relax, the distance between them had been harder to handle recently. It had been weeks since they’d seen each other in person, and with her filming schedule and his race calendar, it didn’t look like that would change anytime soon.

She sighed as she set her phone down on the coffee table, knowing exactly what she needed to make the day feel better. A few minutes later, she grabbed a blanket from her bed and tucked herself into the couch, fingers already flying across the screen.

Ames💛: You’re not busy, are you?

Lan🧡: Never too busy for you 😏

Ames💛: How about a date night from afar? I’m free for the evening, and I think I need something to distract me from how much I miss you.

Lan🧡: A virtual date night? I like the sound of that. What do you have in mind?

Ames💛: Well, I was thinking of a movie. And by movie, I mean lots of popcorn, me in pajamas, and you pretending you don’t want to be here with me.

Lan🧡: You know I’d rather be there with you, Ames. But okay, I’m in. Let’s make this work.

Amelie smiled at his message, feeling a flutter in her chest. There was something about how sweet and sincere he could be, even through text. They’d been dating for several months now, but the intimacy of their connection hadn’t worn off. They were still the same playful, sarcastic couple they’d been when they were just friends—and it made the distance hurt a little less.

She quickly changed into the softest hoodie she could find and settled in with a bowl of popcorn. The TV was set up, and now it was just waiting for him to be ready. It wasn’t quite the same as cuddling up next to him on the couch, but it was the closest thing they had at the moment.

She was about to send him a message to check if he was all set when her phone lit up with his name. She answered quickly, smiling at the sight of his face.

—Hey you,— she said, her voice soft with a mix of affection and longing.

Lando’s face appeared on the screen, looking as relaxed as ever, despite the fact that it was late evening in Monaco. He was lounging on a couch too, wearing a T-shirt and a messy grin that sent warmth flooding through her. His messy brown curls looked like they'd been tousled from a few hours of lounging—nothing new. The soft light behind him made his green eyes even brighter, and Amelie had to resist the urge to lean into the phone, like maybe she could close the distance if she tried hard enough.

—Hey, beautiful,— Lando greeted, his voice low and inviting, that playful glint in his eyes making her heart race. —So... what’s the movie tonight?—

—Well,— she said, glancing around at the room, —I was thinking The Princess Bride. You know, the classic. Comfort movie.—

—Classic? You’re telling me I’m going to have to watch that?— He raised his eyebrows, teasing her. —I’ve seen it a thousand times already.—

—I know, I know,— she laughed, —but it’s perfect for a night like this. Plus, you’re watching it with me, so it’s different.—

—I’m just here for the popcorn and your company,— he said with a wink. —You can’t trick me with your cheesy movie choices, Ames.—

—You love the cheesiness,— she shot back with a grin, eyes sparkling. —And you’re not allowed to complain until you’ve watched at least half of it. Deal?—

—Deal,— Lando agreed, leaning back on the couch. —I’ll just have to put up with the true love stuff...—

Amelie chuckled, settling in as she hit play. She had paused it earlier so they could start together. Lando did the same, and for a moment, they just looked at each other through the screen, both of them smiling at the sight of the other. It was strange, this whole virtual date thing, but there was something about their connection that made it work.

The movie started, and they both settled into their respective couches, popcorn in hand. Every so often, they’d glance at the screen and then back at each other, sharing a look, or a smile, or a quiet laugh.

Lando’s voice cut through the soft background hum of the movie.

—Wait, wait, wait. Is this the part where they start fighting off the rodents of unusual size?— He leaned forward, eyes glinting with mock seriousness. —That’s my favorite part.—

Amelie laughed softly, her body curling into the blanket around her.

—Yes! You’re obsessed with those things.—

—They’re amazing. Seriously, rats that are bigger than me? Come on, that’s wild.— He said it with a grin, clearly enjoying himself.

Amelie chuckled, setting the popcorn bowl down beside her on the couch. She could see him looking at her, and it made her stomach do a little flip.

—It’s all about the cheesiness. I swear, we’d be so good at running this whole movie if we were in the same room.—

—Yeah?— Lando smirked. —You’d be the one calling all the shots, though. I just sit here, look pretty, and nod along.—

Amelie raised an eyebrow, playfully eyeing him.

—Look pretty, huh? You’d better be careful. That’s the second compliment you’ve given me today.—

—Oh, wait, I gave you a compliment?— Lando smirked, clearly amused by his own teasing. —Guess I’m getting soft. This distance is killing me, Ames. I feel like I’m losing my edge. I might even start being nice to people.—

She laughed, shaking her head as she snuggled deeper into the blanket.

—You know, I might take advantage of this nice Lando. You’ve got a few soft spots in you.— She let the words hang in the air, teasing, but there was something more behind it.

Lando's expression softened, the playfulness in his eyes turning a little warmer. He leaned back into his couch, propping his phone up to get a better angle.

—Yeah? Like what?— His voice had a certain vulnerability to it now, not the usual teasing edge.

She stared at him for a moment, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of the popcorn bowl.

—You’re a lot more caring than you let on, Lando. You’ve always been there when I needed someone, even before we started this whole thing. I noticed it before, you know?— Her voice was soft, genuine, and it made Lando feel a little lighter, despite the miles between them.

He watched her for a moment, silent. Then a small smile tugged at his lips.

—I guess we both had our ways of pretending we were fine without each other.— He paused, his fingers brushing the hair out of his face, the quiet moments between them carrying weight. —But I hate how far apart we are right now. You don’t know how much I wish I could just be there with you, Ames. You’re all I think about sometimes. Like... I can’t not think about you. Even when I’m racing or in the middle of stuff. And it’s crazy, right? Because it’s only been two weeks, but damn... this distance sucks. So, don’t go telling anyone I said that, yeah?—

Amelie’s heart skipped a beat at his honesty. She hadn’t realized how much he’d been struggling with the separation, how much it had been weighing on him, too. She smiled gently, brushing her thumb across the screen where his face was.

—You don’t need to be worried about that, Norris. I get it, trust me. I miss you more than I let on, and I’m not going to go around telling people how sappy you’re getting on me.— Her voice was teasing again, but the sentiment behind it was anything but playful. She meant it. She missed him so much, too.

Lando’s smirk returned, though it was softer this time, warmer.

—Good. I’m still trying to keep up my reputation here, you know?— He glanced at the movie for a second, but his eyes quickly found their way back to hers. —But seriously... when I finally see you again, you’re getting the longest hug of your life. I’m not letting go. I think that’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about lately. Just holding you.—

Amelie smiled, biting her lip to stop herself from getting too emotional. It had been a while since they’d seen each other in person, and the thought of finally being in his arms again sent a wave of warmth through her.

—I think that sounds perfect, actually.—

They settled into the movie again, both of them lost in their own thoughts for a few moments. As the characters on-screen began their famous sword fight, Lando let out a loud laugh.

—Is this really the sword fight? These guys are terrible!— He laughed again, shaking his head. —Honestly, this movie is so ridiculous. But I guess that’s why it’s so good.—

—It’s classic for a reason, Norris,— Amelie shot back, her grin returning. —And you’re going to sit there and appreciate it. You might not admit it now, but by the end, you’ll be quoting it with me.—

—Challenge accepted,— he replied with a wink. —But I swear, Ames, if I end up liking this more than I should, I’m blaming you for the whole thing. You’re the one who got me on this cheesy movie kick in the first place.—

She laughed, the sound light and airy, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

—Oh, I’m not the only one, trust me. You’re the one who said you’d suffer through it with me.—

—Right...— Lando smirked, then paused, his tone turning serious again. —I’m glad we’re doing this. Even from far away, it’s nice to have these moments with you. Just... don’t think I won’t make you watch the Fast and the Furious next time.—

Amelie raised her eyebrow in mock horror.

—You’re evil, you know that?—

He only laughed, but there was an underlying truth in the way his voice softened when he spoke next.

—Yeah. But only for you.—

[etherealevangeline]

Midnight Morgue—The Morgue

hey ya’ll! please read the notes below. MDNI! please enjoy and don’t hesitate to leave feedback, it means a lot to us writers! words: 20k. my ao3: etherealevangeline

summary: reader finds herself joining Price as a coroner to pursue her “career,” as a mortician. this may or may not be an excuse to explore her eerie curiosity of death, considering her painful backstory of her dead family. this story deals with explicit themes such as smut, gore, horror, alcoholism, mental health, delusions, surgical themes/terms but probably inaccurate lol.

notes: just love the look of 2009 simon riley in this morgue AU. morgue may or may not be haunted :) ritualistic themes/cult like behavior. random sketchy ass town. Price is the supervisor. Mactavish & Garrick are small town police officers. slow burn simon x reader, enemies to lovers, simon has a huge chip on his shoulder. reader is questioning her belief in the spirit realm. feminine pronouns are used.

You found your way into the small borough of Carbon county shortly after losing your loved ones. Now, that was a while ago, having been a few years. But the pain and agony of that night never left you. It left a sinking, wallowing hole in your chest every time you thought of it. And to disguise your pain—you had turned to drinking. The feeling of the whiskey went down like water on the weekends. If anything it was less of an alcoholic drink to you and a source of never ending depravity. A way to rot on your couch.

‘’A wee alcoholic, aye?’’ You’d remember the man's words. He wasn’t the new rookie deputy cop you’d expected. No, near him was a towering man, all clad in his uniform. He had a buzzcut. What you remember was his cognac eyes boring into yours, the sight of a frown pulling at his lips from the stress of the job already taken over. Crow's feet pinched at his eye corners. His hand rested on his walkie talkie as if cradling it to soothe him.

’’Bloody hell, I don’t remember his name.’’ You muttered weakly, a sigh leaving your nostrils. Your languid, half lidded eyes from intoxication gaze up at the ceiling. It spins. You could hear the background noise of your TV—it’s nothing interesting. Nothing seems to be of interest anymore. It drags on and on until her voice drowns out. That wallowing hole inside your chest can never be sewn up, you think.

And that was mostly why you worked in a morgue. Since seeing the death of your kind—it stirred something deep inside you. Something you didn’t understand from the very beginning. It was a need to know, a primal curiosity to understand death and how it impacted the human body. You were once told it was how you coped with what happened, but how many times did you believe that when you drank your hundredth for the night?

What you still wanted to know was how it felt when that car wrapped around that pole. The smell of gasoline to burn your nostrils, and how it felt to have a 9mm blow your head off. The sound must be deafening. It must have had to blow in your eardrums and produce a shudder so violent you'd whip around. It was sickening and frightening, the kind of thoughts you had. Some would think so. But how could you sit there and write them off, when they whispered from the dark halls of your mind? Every night, beckoning. Chanting like venomous whispers.

And when the nights came, you’d sit and analyze. Hunched on your bed as the autumn night howled and the wind moaned for reprieve. Rain splattering like blood against the window. You’d replay what you’d see over and over again—only for your body to fall short of it all. The one thing missing was the experience. You were just an outsider when it happened to them, that is what it felt like.

But soon, the voices seemed to unravel. A slow hum settled down from the corner of the dingy, messy kitchen. Tablecloth slipped off, no center piece for decorum. The window was open letting in cold stark air. The lamp blinked, and surely enough your attention was back on the TV ahead of you. Rain pounds the screen as the reporter wears her flapping raincoat, eyes squinting as water raced down her pallid skin.

‘’Rattling one of the small boroughs of Pennsylvania in Jim Thorpe, a 32 year old woman was found dead by the Delaware river. Her body was found by a hiker.’’

‘’The small town is terrified as strings of bodies are found scattered around the Poconos Mountains. Will get back to you once we take five.’’ Just like that the screen cuts off. You’re left staring, shot in one hand empty. It feels cold and stale all of a sudden. It churns uneasily in your stomach, gathering like a whirlpool. Pulling at your insides and causing your vision to tilt.

Before you knew it—you’re throwing up again in your trash bin you kept beside you for when it did happen.

With all of the murders happening—bodies came in for an autopsy faster than usual. Normally, it was of a man who had fallen off a ladder and landed fatefully on his head. Leading to a subdural hematoma which then took his life. Or normally it was a druggie overdose.

But this—this pronounced a temperamental chill down your spine. Your arms brushed your sweater in uncertainty as you walked in. Your purse hangs from your shoulder—giving a glance at the receptionist who is flat faced and has saggy smile lines.

She bears no interest as you walk past and down the rickety, narrow hallway. You punch the elevator and walk in—dim and yellow lights casting a pallid sickly glow on you.

Once in the morgue downstairs, you amble down the cold constricting hallways. It’s peacefully silent, and occasionally scuffles from inside the autopsy room could be heard. When you walk in—you’re not surprised to see the bear of a man washing his hands in the sink, back facing you. He wore a reddish brown sweater, and it's rolled up. Streaks of grey line his once blonde hair. Its faint, but when you look closely you can see it. In front you is the morgue table, an overhead fluorescent lighting sending your head pounding. The lab is beside the sink, the fridge to the side holding blood samples.

‘’You’re late,’’ Price greets you gruffly, turning to wipe his wet hands on the nearby rag. He slaps it down a little too hastily for your liking--turning his shoulder to look at you, and you swallow, distant eyes tracking his boots. They were distressed, worn, and the leather was peeling from the toe front. The flaps weren’t firm anymore. His khaki pants slouch slightly at the rim of the boots.

’’Got caught up.’’ You said, the words sounding flat. It bore no heartbeat. You knew what you got caught up with.

‘’Get on with it, MacTavish is coming in with a body.’’ Price said firmly and you nodded your head. His pinched eyes watch you for any signs of swaying or slurring. You feel like a carcass—being picked apart under his gaze. He picks and prods at the meat and torn flesh that resembled you, leaving nothing but that exposed hole of deprecation.

You shudder under his gaze. You don’t like it. But you know this is how he is. Ever since you first came. It must be from all his years of military experiences which is why it came so easy to tear you apart like this with just a look.

You unwrapped your scrubby red scarf, hanging it in the closet door inside. You hang your purse and quickly scrub your hands down, head lowered in the sink where he previously stood. You get under your fingernails, as the suds glide down. You scrub until red shows up and your chest feels less tense than it did under his gaze.

‘’Get on with it, MacTavish is coming in with a body.’’ Price said firmly and you nodded your head. His pinched eyes watch you for any signs of swaying or slurring. You feel like a carcass—being picked apart under his gaze. He picks and prods at the meat and torn flesh that resembled you, leaving nothing but that exposed hole of deprecation.

Wiping your hands, you move with haste. You walk past him and the smell of tobacco hits you. He moves back to address you, eyes lingering on the top of your head uneasily. His arms cross as if surveying you. Was he a hypocrite, eyeing you as if you’d committed a war crime for drowning your sorrows? You shouldn't think like this—he’s your superior. But apart you has little to no room to care for his reputation.

You draw a figure of a body, finishing the legs, trailing up to the arms, and head. You then do a quick rinse and snap on some gloves by the lab desk area. Your fingers wiggle, and you turn to Price, holding up your hands and nodding.

He makes a quick move to talk, ‘’You’re not dead until—‘’

‘’You’re warm and dead.’’

Something almost like pride flickers in his eyes as you now announce it with ease. At first you didn't understand the implication behind the words but to him it held some sort of motivation. You thought it was silty to have said it--but upon seeing that glint in his eye it has you second guessing your thought for a second.

‘’If I ave’ to drag you to work, I will personally see to it that you’re warm and dead.’’ He said dryly. There's a hint of something in his scruffy voice but you can’t quite name it. The way his expression is hidden makes you tilt your gaze to his to see what’s underneath. To cut him open like a can of worms, to expose his insides and all his guilt. Shame. Repressed nightmares. The way he'd done with you. Maybe you’ve been staring too long because he then clears his throat.

The sound of boots thudding down the hallway come into earshot and soon a pretty, tall and boisterous man walks in. He’s sporting a mohawk, his skin somehow glistening despite the dreading atmosphere of the night. ’’We copped one, Doc.’’ He said in his thick Scottish accent, nodding a head before his eyes roamed over to you. His light eyes if it was possible--swelled with even more amusement.

You stand there, ignoring him as the body rolls in. It's the new recruit, you remembered, the one who held his walkie like it was something beloved to him. You flash a glance at his uniform—Garrick.

The victim is covered in a white sheet, you can’t tell if it’s a woman or man yet. The feet point out, unmoving and poking at the cloth. After MacTavish removed his gaze from your still form, his walkie beeps and he then comes over by Garrick who situates himself at the other end. On three, they hoisted the body onto the table.

‘’I had it.’’ Price muttered, slapping his gloves on.

Mactavish gives him a sloppy grin before stepping back on his boots, ‘’Wanted to impress the Bonnie.’’

Bunny?

What Bunny?

Confusion must’ve betrayed your normally flat face as you walked to the table, tilting the overhead lights to the body below. MacTavish's’ eyes glitter at your reaction, happy he got to milk some sort of response from you. You could tell he was interested, but not quite sure what to poke and prod at just yet. Garrick scoffs and a hand rests on his belt.

’’You’ll get it soon, dinnae fash yer’ self.’’ You glance at where the face is supposed to be, and then at MacTavish. Your lashes brush your brow bone, unwavering.

’’Give her a few and she’ll pick up the Scotsman, yeah?’’ Garrick said roughly, moving so he strolled the gurney out. He disappears down the dreadful hallway and you hear the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights again. Something irked you. They spoke as if you weren't in the room. Then again, you had a habit of shrinking away to hide from the limelight. Could you really blame them?

‘’English, MacTavish.’’ Price mumbles, but MacTavish is stepping back, saluting comically at you both before heading out, one hand resting on his vest. You don’t miss the way his holster wraps around his thigh and hugs it, his sidearm jiggling.

Price grabs his little voice recorder from his table, fingers pressing the red button. It's small and fits in his larger hands perfectly.

’’This is the autopsy of an unidentified male, assisting with John Price is the coroner.’’ He mentions your name and it almost has a grudging sense of respect behind it.

Your heart lurches ever so slightly at the recognition. Did you like that? Did you like being seen? You're not sure what to think as you cross the line of curiosity and shame. He then gave a subtle nod to you to start working. Your hands ghost over the edges of the thin sheet for a second too long.

’’Remove the sheets.’’ Price orders, still not having loosen up his tongue from his ex military days. It's sharp and biting, firm. You bet it straightens the soldiers up before any real whipping began.

And so you do.

You don't shudder at the sight. After seeing it so many times it burns like a memory behind your eyes. Pale cloudy eyes of the man meet yours. At the sight you find it intriguing even, as his eyes convey no emotion. It’s flat, staring into an abyss. He has no consciousness of course. But when you arrived at the scene of your mother, you thought you could’ve seen the horror written on her face in the aftermath.

''Unidentified male appears to be in his early 30s. He is wearing no clothes.’’ You begin, trailing your eyes down his features before his body. You reach out and flex an arm, seeing how the muscles move and flex.

‘’The man is still in rigor mortis.’’ You identify.

Price nodded, ‘’And what could that mean?’’

’’He was found in a colder temperature, or he just died within 24 hours.’’

Price gets up to shuffle to the drawing board. He then goes to write with the thin chalk, his back facing you. ‘’Timeframe 24 hours.’’ The chalk moves with haste. He doesn’t bother to write straight, his writing is long, narrow, and at the end his letter swoops down from the effort of removing the chalk. It screeches a bit.

‘’Blonde hair, possibly blue eyes but hard to tell since it's clouded over.’’

‘’So is it blue or not?’’

You give him a glance from under your lashes, and then suck in a breath. ‘’Blue it is.’’

You then continue, tilting the head this way and that, a pinch forming between your brows as you noted diligently his features. You can feel Price studying you intensely. You know you have yet to have order to your examinations. ‘’Caucasian.’’

You could then hear Price writing on the green board.

’’Scarring around his ankles and wrists, like he’s been bound.’’ Price drops the chalk on the ledge near the eraser and comes forward. He slapped his gloves on, standing at where the head is positioned and he nods for you to go to the board instead.

’’Left and right?’’ He looked at you, watching as you walk past and to the board, a hand still adjusting the gloves. He had a bit of a struggle with the gloves being too tight. You circled the ankle and wrists as he taught you, to which you drew arrows and defined “bound.”

He raised a brow and then his eyes lowered to the unidentified male, ready to start his own observations. The feeling first began as a trickle against his neck, almost like lengthy fingers stroking the skin there. Price rolled his shoulder, as if working out a kink to which you noticed after you turned.

How you wished you blinked an eye. You shifted in your spot.

“I’ve seen this before.” Price murmured, raising the ankles carefully. The joints were shattered, leaving the bone bruised and inflamed. It’s mottled purple and blue, the area ballooned. He reached out almost tenderly to push at the bone in the ankle where it meets the bulbous joint. The bone juts and pressed against the superficial skin, threatening to pierce. It slides uneasily.

“When?” You can’t help but ask. Curiosity strikes and you find yourself tip-toeing to eye his movements. He stands quite far, so you have only the view of his head tipped down, hands skillfully working below his waist.

In fact his grey is pronounced even more. It shines under the light like silver. “Ten years ago…another male came in. Unidentified. Broken wrists and ankles just like this.”

You swallowed and Prices’ eyes flashed. Almost as if reliving a forbidden memory. It's the way he said it--like a breathy whisper, as if too afraid to still admit what he’d seen. “It was a kid at that time.”

“A kid?”

Price nodded and then furrowed his brows. The skin pinches from the urge to shove the memory away. He then looked up at you, his eyes shadowed as he rested the ankle down. You clamped your mouth shut, as it seemed personal, and the voice recorder was still rolling.

Price then swiveled around to open the mouth of the male. His hands pry and it falls open unnaturally, slack and limp, “Front incisor teeth are missing. Looks to be yanked from the root.”

You wince at the comment, imagining every bit of it. It makes you shudder. You turn and continue writing down his observations, circling the mouth area. A nauseous feeling arises in you. The feeling where your stomach rises and drops on a rollercoaster ride—except there is no rollercoaster. You couldn’t tell if it was from the drinks the night before, or from seeing the body crudely mangled.

“There’s something stuck in the throat. The esophagus.” Price suddenly said, shining a light down the man's throat with a smaller penlight. You turn around, hair whipping slightly, approaching the table where the body lay. You move as light as a feather, your footsteps unheard. A steady hum from the light above soothed your nerves. “What is it?”

Price sighed heavily, as if the nights worked dragged on. It did, you couldn't blame him. “When we perform the internal examination we’ll see.”

During the internal examination, Price steadily held his instrument. The scalpel slices cleanly at the pale flesh. When he inspects the throat area, he detaches the larynx, the and the esophagus, there’s swelling and trauma. You narrowed your eyes in focus to see.

“It looks…round.” You muttered as his gloves prod at it. Price extracts what looks to be a small pouch. When he lifts it in the air because his eyes occasionally struggle to see in the dark, his brows shoot up. At first you couldn’t tell what his reaction was. That glimmer of surprise goes away, as if squashing the butt of a cigar.

From behind the pouch as it swings, his gaze then shifts to you, brows lowering into an unsettling scowl, “It’s a small pouch. Looks like it didn’t make its way into the stomach, it was too big.”

“So he choked on it,” You conclude but Price is quick to stop you.

“We don’t know that’s how he died. Open this pouch for me.”

You nod and round the corner of the table, hands fumbling for the pouch carefully. He placed it in your palms and you moved over to the lab table, where the microscope is and your vials. You sit, eyeing the pouch under the microscope as Price continues speaking to the recorder. “The pouch was lodged in the esophagus, someone made him swallow it. Or he did it on his own. But the bound marks suggest otherwise, along with the shattered left and right fibula.”

You shudder gruesomely. Someone made him swallow it? It was looking more and more likely, especially with the bruises which pointed to a clear MO. You leaned in, eyes narrowed like lasers and eyeing the material under the microscope. You hum and then move away, glancing at Price who is working the victim.

“It’s just a pouch, nothing is inside.”

“Why would he swallow something empty?” Price muttered, shaking his head as his eyes trail to the rest of the body. You wanted to know as well, to have the dots connect. Suddenly, in the line of work you found yourself feeling alive. A thirst for understanding death, yet a desire for figuring out the puzzle pieces. You thought you couldn’t feel that way ever again. You swallowed and your eyes darted away at the floor, and Price cleared his throat. You joined him.

The night ended and before you knew it, you and Price concluded the death was caused by a stab wound to the heart. A tiny hole, piercing through the muscle and flesh, almost looking like a corkscrew. it was located laterally, by the ribs. It was nestled well. The thought of someone painfully easing it in, twisting and hearing the bone crack under pressure—It was too much. And then to endure the plain of everything else. It was borderline torture at that point. Maybe it was torture.

But why? Why this person? What did they do? More so, who did this?

''Whoever did this must've had a helluva PTO.'' Price muttered, before he shut off the lights, casting the area in complete darkness.

''Who do you think did it?'' Your voice comes out strong and grounded. Apart of you was not afraid to ask, you yearned for an answer. You gazed at Price who sighed and grabbed his hunky jacket, slinging it on. He glanced at you.

''If I took a wild guess, someone with a lotta' experience. They knew which bones to break, most importantly corked the mans heart fatally.''

You don't necessarily feel an ache towards the male, but it manifested as an insistent need to analyze the situation. That was how your brain worked, like a piston.

Price had left a while ago, leaving you to fend for yourself. The night is settled with a thick, blue haze stretching solemnly across the cemetery. The trees huddle and lean in as if sharing secrets, but more than ever you feel it offers you no child like curiosity, the way you would have felt when you were naive. Blankets of fog roll in like an oncoming wave. You strolled to your car.

“What d’ya find?” Suddenly, a voice cuts through the cold stale air. A certain MacTavish called out from behind you as you walked. You're arms are crossed as your burgundy cardigan is wrapped around you to keep you warm but it offers little comfort. Your scarf flits in the air as you turn around to see him.

Mactavish is leaning against the patrol car, and biting into a sandwich. It reminded you that your stomach ached as well for food. Something warm. Something tangible beyond years of numbness. You eye him before walking forward to stand beside him, although not necessarily mingling in his personal space. “What are you doing here? At this hour.” You ask, not wanting to discuss what had been on your very mind as you walked out the morgue. It was teetering at 2am now, and the idea of having a lengthy discussion of blood and bones did not interest you.

“Got called in for a bar brawl.” He said with food in his mouth. You eye him with a sense of distaste, a brow cocking and your arms still crossed to shield yourself from the October cold. You swallowed and shook your head. The shadows of the gnarly fork like trees draped over your faces, the lamp shade doing nothing to console your uneasiness. “Sounds better than my night.”

“Join me, then.” He said a bit too cheekily. You scoff, shoving a hair away from your cheek as it grazed in the wind. You’re pretty sure you resembled Rudolf the red nosed reindeer since the cold was getting harsher and unforgiving these nights. It consumed the forests and every crevice it could.

You then look at him, pausing and eyeing his amused expression. His eyes twinkled, most certainly remembering a certain event you two shared.

Finishing the last of his sandwich, he dusted his hands off and stood tall, shifting on the pavement. “I’ll drop ya home.” Did he forget you had a car?

“Not necessary.” You said a bit too fast, cutting him at the last second. You stiffen up and grasp at your elbows tighter, as if trying to melt away in your cardigan. You’re not sure what’s worse, him seeing the bottles of alcohol on the ground, or your messy unkempt place. It looked as if a hurricane rummaged in there. And his joke of being an alcoholic—it rubbed you the wrong way. The alcohol would only confirm his jokes of you.

But there was no use hiding it. It’s what you depended on for a second long high. And then the weight came crashing down, it crashed hard. But now it had been a running joke of your drunkenness, when you came into work accidentally and met the cop, MacTavish. Let’s just say, you two played in places you weren’t supposed to be.

He happened to just drop off a body, whilst he found you sitting at the stale reception desk, working. You typed clumsily and appeared dazed. The lady called in sick, so Simon took over your shift, a man you'd met a few times. MacTavish then grinned devilishly, “Aren’t ye' the new morgue lass?” And you gave him a bedazzling smile and grin as if you’d known the man. Cheeks lifted, hair flowing in waves, the warm light almost illusioned you in such a cunning way. You did not know him. It was the alcohol pumping loudly combined with the horrible urge, insistent urge to run away from your past. And behind your eyes you hid very well the pain and agony. It was believable, to the point MacTavish thought you were one of those rowdy restaurant girls, cosplaying as a mortuary assistant. Probably his favorite trope.

You could remember the way he hid without a car it seemed in the morgue storage. He laid down, went in and you shut it. To scare him—you suddenly spoke amongst the corpses when five minutes passed and he yelled, wanting to get out. “Lass, I swear to god next time ye’ will be in here.”

Snapping back to reality, as the wind howled like a wolf in pain--you knew that wasn’t the real you. This was. This distant, shrouded and shell of a self. You zoomed back in, the voices and vision fading away from view. You could hear him talk clearly now.

He had his hands raised as if his hands were burned, brows raised, “I willnae’.”

You awkwardly glance at him, to which he gazes at, before walking on your boots off the pavement, fishing for your car keys in your cardigan pocket. Your car beeps when you press the button and you sighed. Your silence left him stunned momentarily, and confused. The man is not sure of what to think when it came to you, your behavior. You were first a Tinkerbelle, the manic pixie that night, and now you were a closed off wall.

“Get home safe, will ye?” He hesitantly said from behind you. He watched as your hair whipped and you then gave him a weary glance before leaving in your car. You thought he muttered something along the lines of, “Can never seem to pick one up, aye?” He sighed pitifully, turning away.

In your car as you drove down the narrow highway, trees whizzed past. An eerie fog had set in and you put on your hard lights to see ahead. You then slowed down, sighing through your nose. Long morning, love drive.

[jessilynallendilla]

DPXDC SHIPS FIC REC

TITLE/LINK RATING COMPLETED-WORD-COUNT SERIES

DP FIC REC HOME POST

let me know if the links aren't working and feel free to suggest any

JASONxJAZZ 

Friendly Neighborhood Vigilante  T 

Meet Jasmine Fenton: Smart, resourceful, kind and the very proud sister of Amity Park's own undead superhero Danny Phantom. Therapist at your service. Intern at Arkham Asylum. Can kick your ass. Likes tea and long walks at the beach. Meet Jason Todd: Smart, resourceful, not-that-kind (if you say he's soft you may get knifed) and the very proud vigilante and protector of Crime Alley. Died for a while but got better. Holds grudges. Likes reading a nice book and the sound of the rain against the window. They are neighbors now. 

Batman, Meet Team Phantom  NR 118,359 SERIES 

Jason leaves Amity Park for Gotham, but an emergency call changes everything. The Fentons have discovered Danny's secret, and things are going horribly wrong. While Jazz, Sam, and Tucker save Danny from Jack and Maddie, the group is now on the run. Jason and his family pull all of their resources together to make things right. 

Present, Future, Past  T 

After a fight gone sideways, Bruce finds himself in the future, one that's a lot brighter than Bruce could have ever hoped for. And yet, there are still some shadows Bruce must overcome. But perhaps the insight of the future can help Bruce do just that. 

Can't Help Falling In Love (With You)  T SERIES 

When a ghost does shenanigans, Jazz usually stays out of the trouble, since trouble is her brother's thing. This time? This time trouble found her in the form of a ghost that marries her to the Red Hood against her will. 

When The Side Quest Gets Real  T SERIES 

Jason gets confused for one Jack Fenton by one exasperated teacher, who immediately tells him off for not answering the school's calls-Right in front of Tim and Dick. 

Shovel Talk?  T 3,464 

Things were finally running smoothly for The Batfamily, then Jason decided to throw a wrench into it. That wrench was named Jasmine Fenton. Now the whole family have to prepare for a shovel talk. 

Deal  T 3,884 ESRIES 

One day, a woman hires Jason to kill an unusual amount of people. The more he looks at the case, the more he is convinced he has to accept. 

There's Something Wrong With The Nightingale Siblings  G SERIES 

A reveal gone wrong, a drive to Gotham and a sister made of shadows. Danny didn't know this is what he was signing up for when taking the crown, but naming his sister queen regent was better than the alternative. He'll just have to see what kind of trouble Danny and Jasmine Nightingale can get up to in Gotham. 

Gotham's Favourite  T 1,315 

Jason has heard the rumours going around Crime Alley, about the Saint of the Dead. He didn’t believe them, at first, of course. How could he? When they spoke of an ethereal being that appeared amongst the living and brought them in contact with their dearest departed? Brought them closure? 

Drunk Summonings  T 1,577 SERIES 

Jason is dared to summon the ghost king. Only instead of getting the ghost king, he gets the queen regent. 

Core Skills  T SERIES 

Jason doesn't want to disappoint his family (or worst, be called out by his brothers). Jazz tries to get custody of Danny. I wonder where it all could go. 

Why Not?  T 5,263 

Jazz goes to Gotham Public Library to get out of the house. Jason has a rare day off. 

I'm Picking You Up  T 2,939 

Jason Todd has been secretly dating an amazing woman named Jazz Fenton, but hasn't told her about his vigilante/crime lord life. When he's captured by the Riddler on a day when the rest of his family is unavailable, he discovers that his girlfriend is more than meets the eye. Maybe he should have asked a few more questions... 

The Wonderous Beauty Of The Statuesque Scarlet  T 9,773 

Jazz knew she was tall. It wasn't like it affected her life or anything (sarcasm). It wasn't like she didn't end dates early because the dude asked her if it was really necessary for her to wear heels. Yes, she was tall. And strong. On top of that, she had duties as Ghost Princess, so finding a partner was not easy for her. 

The Night Will Come But Not To Stay  T 

Jazz is excited about going to Gotham University for college. It's halfway across the country from Amity Park and anyone who knows about her weird family or ghost nonsense. Finally, she can pretend to be a normal woman who just wants to go into psychiatry. She meets a cute guy named Jason, and they seem to be getting along great. Jason finally decided to put aside his vigilante work long enough to get a degree. He's learning how to be a normal person again, with a family that cares for him. He's even made a few civilian friends, including a cute girl named Jazz. Surely, nothing could come up that would reveal their other lives to each other. 

Cujo And The Ghastly Gotham Grabber  G 9,520 

When Joker grabbed Damian, Cujo said “not on my watch mister!” and proceeded to tear the clown to shreds. Then Cujo takes his new friend to Danny to make sure he’s okay. He is delighted when he makes even more friends when Damian’s brothers come looking for him. 

Talks At The Fenton Bar And Brunch And Mount Justice  G 8,299 SERIES 

The Fentons talk, meanwhile a six (and a half!) year old halfa does what every nosy child does and listens in only stopping when the ghost of time drops in for fudge. Meanwhile, Tim is wondering what the exact relationship the Fentons have with the Infinte Realms is that the Young Justice's newest member wants to look into Jason's background. 

You Look Like You’ve Seen A Ghost  T 37,602 SERIES 

Jason and Danny became friends in the Ghost Zone. This is about to be everyone’s problem. Batman just wants to know who this illusive teenager is. Because he’s a meta. Obviously. Not for adoption reasons. No siree, not him. 

Somehow Whatever's Eternal In Me Knows Whatever's Eternal In You  M 

Everyone knows the story of Jason Todd’s resurrection. He dies, he gets resurrected half a year later, he crawls out, goes to the hospital for another half year, and then gets taken by Talia to the League before he finally comes back to Gotham 3 years later. But what if that didn’t happen? When an additional force comes to Gotham with the intentions to take over, she finds Jason Todd lying on the ground and then decides to take him with her. Everything in Gotham changes. 

Wrong Exit  T SERIES 

Danny comes into the story too early and makes it everyone else's problem. 

Is Batman A Ghost?  T 

The Fentons learn about the Bats in Gotham. Thanks to the portal to the Ghost zone breaking and the ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, Fentonworks sets up shop in crime city. Shenanigans ensue 

Turning Shadows Into Shapes  T 

When the GIW gets too close to finding out who phantom is, Jazz takes custody of her adopted brother and moves out to Gotham. Danny is enrolled in West Reeve and Jazz goes to Gotham U, and finds a job at Arkham. Everything was going fine, for the first couple hours. The more Jazz and Danny try to avoid the Bats, the more they seem to meet, and Danny and Jazz figure that this can only lead to conflict. 

Won't You Be My Neighbor?  M 

Jazz is excited to start a new job in a city that has never heard of the Fenton’s. So what if they have raving psychopaths and people dressing up in tights to fight them, at least she doesn’t have to deal with ghosts. But, why did her new neighbor trigger her brother’s ghost sense? And why does she feel like she’s falling for the mysterious vigilante that crashed through her window one night? 

Blood On The Crown  M SERIES 

She leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his brow, a covenant between them, a secret promise that she would tear the world asunder if it meant keeping him safe. 

Premeditation  T 17,192 SERIES 

The problem is that so few people are even able to see what the problem really is. The problem is that things that manage to find the balance on the knife’s edge of life are so, so hard to kill. The problem, Jasmine Fenton realizes, two weeks after she moves into Gotham, is one that almost no one, in any dimension or realm, is able to solve. The problem is simply put, though, even if it’s almost impossible. The problem is this: The Joker is a Halfa. 

Custody Battle  G 1,274 SERIES 

"Touch starved Danny gets cuddles from tallmom!Jazz and tankdad!Jason after a long and hard custody battle against the neglectful Fenton parents. " 

If You Find A Vigilante In The Dumpster  M SERIES 

The plan was simple, Jazz and her now de aged brother would go lay low in Gotham, act as a mother-son duo. Wait as Danny heals up by absorbing the ambient ectoplasm leaking from the city and Vlad gives the green light that he has a safe place they could stay. Plus with the blessing from the Ghost of Gotham and knowing that even the GIW wouldn't dare to encroach on Batman's territory, it was a pretty safe plan. That was until a certain vigilante just keeps on finding himself in their dumpster. 

Crying Is Okay  T SERIES 

I will change the summary when I get a better idea I am winging this, but so far it's about what happens if Danny goes to University in Gotham and gets a job at Arkham. 

Rifts  T 

As a general rule, just when you thought it couldn't get worse it suddenly did. This is something the Fenton siblings knew from experience. The thing is, normally her brother is the one who puts them on the spot. This isn’t one of those times, and Jazz just knows that she will never get Danny to shut up about it. ...If they ever get to see each other again, of course. 

There Will Come A Soldier  T 9,644 

Jason jumps to defend a woman getting mugged but she uh...doesn't need the help. She appreciates the heart-eyes he shoots her, though. 

The Business Of Family  T 

Things are not well in Amity Park. With the GIW getting more and more aggressive and their parents becoming ever more suspicious of Danny each day that passes, Jazz knows that they're running out of time. It's not safe, and their options are painfully limited. Out of sheer dumb luck or a little intervention from Clockwork, she manages to discover a distant relative that just might be their salvation. If asked Oswald Cobblepot would say that it's just good business. Adopting a few kids had done wonders for Bruce Wayne's reputation, why not his? It's not like he can't afford to put them somewhere out of the way if they get to be a problem. It's just business. Nothing more. 

Advent Reunion  G 4,765 SERIES 

Danny was gone. The GIW had wrecked his core and Jazz was left grieving with her family and friends, all devastated. They hunted the monsters that destroyed her brother, hunted them all the way to the Himalayas and destroyed the Guys in White but Jazz felt like it was a hollowed out victory. Grieving and anguished she stole Vlad's booze and wander off, runs into a guy hiding a body and deciding to spend a weekend running amok with "Jason" (a nice jerk that left without even saying goodbye and who she really should not have developed feelings for). Then she discovered she was pregnant, and Clockwork told her he had placed Danny's ruined core in her so he could be reborn. Skip nearly seven years later and Jazz is the mother of a rambunctious six (and a half!) year old boy who is the reincarnate of her brother and she just moved to Gotham with her family to go to school. Jason meanwhile runs into a kid that tries to steal his wheel and pay for it with coco, a duck candle and a literal piggy bank... and then reunites with a blast from his past... and she has a tinier version of him attached to her hip. 

DANNYxTIM 

The Blob  T 

Tim sees a floating green blob and believes it is a delusion, but it is actually a ghost, one of the victims of the murderer he caught. The blob ghost latched on to him and refuses to leave. As Tim finally admits to himself that it's real, more blob ghosts attach themselves to Tim, hoping he will catch their murderer too. Finally, his family notices that something is amiss with him and attempts to figure out what is wrong. Meanwhile, Danny in the Ghost Zone hears that there is a human, in the living realm, that the blob ghost can't stop praising. 

Social Media + Insomnia = Epic Fails (Not Clickbait!)  T 8,216 SERIES 

Yes I Sleep @TimDrake_Wayne Fellas… is it gay if he’s dead? Otherwise known as: Tim makes an Oopsie 

Hold The Stars Close (Like You Were Holding My Hand)  NR 

Daniel Fenton had to run, Amity wasn't safe for him anymore, he couldn't stay, so he left. By no means did it mean that he understood how he ended up in a crime filled city with a baby to care for, and another teen vigilante for a co-parent. Maybe it would get better. 

You Can't Teach An Old God New Tricks  M 

Danny didn’t have a lot to his name. He arrived in Gotham 2 years ago lost and confused. He knew he was a king. He knew he was a halfa, and he knew that he ruled all of the infinite realms. But the harsh realities of Gotham also kept him on his toes as he tries to ignore his past. Nothing from before the age of 14 but electricity down his spine, A sister whom he loved, and an apparent complaint of his newfound lack of Empathy because of it. Danny had avoided the infamous Bats for too long but as the ghosts start to delve into the world once more moaning for the Phantom, and a family edging on being a gang. He finds himself far too close to the vigillante’s and Batman than he really wants to find himself. And as his world collapses in on itself, maybe he needs someone to catch him for once. Someone he never expected. 

Tim Drake's I.E.F (Invisible Eldritch Friend)  T SERIES 

The last thing Danny expected while haunting his new favorite pastime while bored (read: homeless) was to find out his secret identity. It was cool though, and he helped the dude get through the days easier now. He expected even less, though, to be caught rooting around in his fridge by their butler. The last thing Tim expected while getting stalked was to get used to the unseen creature and how they started taking care of him. He expected even less for them to be the same age 

Till Death And Beyond  T 85,655 

Danny and Tim have known each other for a year, have been dating for months, and are very happy. Sure, Tim would prefer if his boyfriend let him help him at least get a nicer apartment, or even an internship at WE but Danny won't let him. Dating Tim is not keeping his head down but as far as everyone knows, Danny Fenton died with his parents and sister. Danny Nightingale has no links to him, thanks to Tucker and Technus' magic. But there are still those who would love nothing more than to get their hands on Phantom, despite his not having been seen in a long time. And why is there a vigilante bleeding out on his apartment floor? 

Bones Exposed  T 44,774 SERIES 

After years of being a halfa, Danny's body starts to gain more symptoms from his death, resulting in his human half slowly dying. In a desperate attempt to live the rest of his life in peace, he becomes a hermit, living isolated in Gotham and only leaving his home when his services are needed at Wayne Enterprises. His life isn't what he expected, but it's his and he's accepted it. That is until Tim Drake gives him a reason to start looking for a way to stop himself from dying all the way. Now Danny is desperate to learn how to deal with his disabilities and stop his body from dying completely. At least he has Tim Drake at his side to help. 

This Is Me Trying  T 17,337 SERIES 

After an argument with Dick, Tim snaps under the pressure and quits the Bats. Thanks to some encouragement from Tam, Tim goes on a road trip in the hopes he can clear his head and figure out what he wants to do with his life now that he's left the Waynes behind. It's not easy, not even close, but somewhere along the way he meets a kindred spirit. And maybe, kinda falls a little in love along the way. 

The Price Of Peace  T SERIES 

The Juistria League - the alliance of the major countries of the continent Juisitria - has long since stood for peace. Unfortunately there is one country that is a thorn in their side whenever they try to solidify that peace: The Infinite Lands, a country of barbarians to the north where the only reason they survive is the magic in the air. Where the magic is so strong that even children develop a talent, which they themselves call "the blessings of the dragons". The country that, last time the Juistria League had tried to negotiate, had waged a war more brutal then anything seen before on them, for over a decade - right until the moment a rebellion caged him. Not long ago, his murderer took the title. And now, that very same newly crowned High Chief demands negotiations of them. Bruce would rather die, would rather see Gotham and all of Juistria in flames than to allow that man to take one of his children. Tim, however, makes another decision before he could say that. Now, everyone has to hope Phantom will be happy with the boy… Meanwhile Danny is just too stunned that they actually agreed to that to do anything about the sudden engagement. 

Given Flesh And Form  M 6,308 SERIES 

When Bruce is stuck in time with no way out, there are faster ways to get results than to chase clues all across the seven continents...and it's not like Tim needs complete body autonomy anyway. So what if he agrees to host a budding baby royal ghost until it can form a new body? That's, like, what, under a year's worth of taking it easy? In exchange for his adoptive Dad's life? No contest. Tim strikes a deal with the King of All Ghosts and doesn't regret it for a second. Meanwhile. Tim's family is certain that something is wrong...but what? 

I'll Pay You Ten Times  G 5,004 SERIES 

Being kidnapped is nothing new. Being kidnapped by a boy more or less his age, with zero recollection of how? That's kind of new. Offering said boy, who looks like a mercenary, money to save him in hopes he doesn't have a moral code? Yeah, that's totally new. But Tim is acing it. He can do this. Now only if this mercenary didn't look so hot while kicking goons' butts, that would've been really nice. 

Better Halves (And Other Such Falsehoods)  M 

Danny's trying to recover all the shards to an entity's chalice so that it'll stop destroying the zone while tensions rise amongst his subjects- and trying to finish high school. Tim's juggling his case load, his work as CEO, and does not have time to be embroiled in a sex scandal right now. If that means he has to pretend to date a very suspicious heir to a rival company, then so be it. It's a mutually beneficial relationship. So what if Tim's becoming a little too intrigued by the illusive, powerful Phantom? So what if Danny can't stand the Justice League for leaving him to deal with all of Amity's problems when he was just 14? That's a superhero thing. And their fake boyfriend has no clue that they're a superhero. 

Ghosts Don't Go To High School  T 

Danny Fenton is having a good day, really. It's his birthday and the ghosts were leaving him alone for once! Then his parents discover his blood is contaminated with ectoplasm and move him halfway across the country to Gotham City! Now Danny needs to keep his secret safe from his parents, help a ghost child find her way home, and try not to get expelled from Gotham Academy. And why does the sight of his physics partner make his heart pound? Must be all the coffee he brings him. Danny needs a nap. 

Hi My Name Is Danny What's Your Favorite Dinner Food?  T 666 SERIES 

Clockwork is prolly laughing his ass off right now, the prick. Alrighty, itemizing time, what does Danny know about his current situation? He is apparently a cartoon here? 

The Bakery Is A Front!...Right?:  T 13,211 

Danny Fenton starts his own business in Gotham. He knows that moving to Gotham is dangerous, but it is the only other place with enough natural ectoplasm to sustain him. His bakery quickly grabs the attention of the locals for its fantastic taste and unknown secret ingredient. Things are fine until Danny starts hiring goons out of jobs and getting street kids to make deliveries. His pastries have a strange effect on people, leading people to assume Danny is pushing a new type of drug, using his bakery as a front for his up-and-coming crime empire. To prove it, Tim and Jason go undercover to find out what he uses and how to put him away. 

xOTHER BATFAM 

I Was In The Middle Before I Knew What Had Begun  G 

Danny Fenton is starting a new life with his sister Jazz. Only Jazz isn't the annoying, well meaning big sister that he's known all his life but a five-year-old. Now thrust into the position of caretaker to the one that has always been a caretaker to him, Danny has to push through his pain at losing the one he loved the most while reconciling to his new reality. Now Danny Fenton, uncle to Jazmine Fenton, he's struggling to make ends meet and keep the right to care for the last family member he's got (something that the city of Gotham is far too eager to rip away from him). Cassandra Cain is enjoying her life. She has a cause to rally for, something to devote her whole life to that gives her such purpose that she might as well be alive because if it. She is finally starting to engage in a civilian life as well, setting down some roots in a ballet studio and allowing herself to make some tentative connections with her peers there. When she offers to help out a friend with her ballet class for underprivileged children, Cass is struck by a young man carrying so much grief inside. When she investigates more, Cass discovers this Daniel Fenton is at the mercy of a merciless city because of his meta status. 

Harrowing Holidays  G 8,553 SERIES 

After a few months of dating, Danny invites Jason to Amity Park for Fenton Thanksgiving—both Danny & Jason have convinced themselves, despite all evidence to the contrary, that the other is their normal civilian boyfriend, and don't want to mess things up by revealing their secrets. 

Stand By You  T 11,867 

Dick tumbles through his bedroom window and stumbles to the kitchen. His black and blue suit is stained with blood but the pain from the cut in his side is nothing next to the mental anguish he’s feeling at the moment. All he wants is to get himself patched up and in bed. He had been optimistic this morning that today might turn out okay. Now he doesn’t remember why he’d ever thought that. Upon reaching the kitchen, finds the lights already on and a person dozing at the kitchen bar. His next step ought to have been equally soft as the ones before, barely audible, perfect for stealth. But between the pain and his surprise it came out as more of a thump than a soft pad like cat’s feet. She perks up and turns to face him. He freezes. It’s Jazz. It’s date night. 

We Are Infinite As The Universe We Hold Inside  NR 8,399 

Stephanie Brown finds herself in the awkward position of being pregnant with a god's child and learning this from John Constantine of all people. 

Time To Fall In Love  NR 6,294 SERIES 

A cult uses a ritual designed to summon and bind the Ghost King to their will. What they don't know is that it's actually a ghostly marriage ceremony. 

Equilibrium  M 

There's a new mask on Jason's turf, and this one refuses to leave. Will Jason be able to scare him off, or will they enter into a partnership that can either save them both or drag them screaming into the darkness that hides in both their hearts? 

Fuck Around And Find Family  M 14,144 SERIES 

Danny spends some quality time with the Batfam. And the GIW 

A Deal With The Ghost King  NR 4,524 

When the Ghost King refused their offer of souls in exchange for saving the world, the Justice League had been scrambling to find something he would accept instead. But when the King dissapeared and the world was saved when they weren't looking, Constantine had been in a panic. Someone else had made a deal with the King, offering something worth more than all the souls on Earth. But what? And who had made the deal? Meanwhile, Jason left the meeting. He had a date to plan! 

Empty Graves  NR 

Danny has lost everything. His family, his friends, his haunt. His core is shattered, his powers don't work. He wasn't able to save them, what good is he now? Stuck alone in the limbo between life and death, Danny has nothing left to live for. After a panicked flight that finds him stranded in Gotham, Danny stands atop a tall building and stares down, the tips of his shoes teetering over open air. he closes his eyes and--there's a scream. Fine. He'll try to save one more life. He has to. Or he'll die trying. 

Smash Or Pass?  T 

imagine this, a reporter is asking citizens of Gotham their opinions on the various bats in the city when they stumble across Danny.sleep deprived and looking it, Danny is not paying attention to the reporter at all. 

reporter: "What is your opinion of Red Hood?" 

danny, who stayed up all night playing smash or pass with sam and tucker, only hearing red hood: "Smash." and then danny keeps walking, unaware that he'd just gone viral with only a single word. 

Behind The Fortress Walls  T 32,706 

Jazz is in love with Dick. He’s kind, considerate, and caring. Far and away the nicest person she’s ever dated. But she’s lying to him. About so, so much. And he’ll hate her once he learns the truth. Assuming he doesn't get tired of her canceling all their dates first. When Danny and Ellie go missing, the latest in a series of ghostly disappearances, she's forced to cancel another date. Going to Elmerton to meet up with Tucker and Sam, she will get Danny and Ellie back from the GIW no matter what it takes. Only...they aren't the only ones breaking in. 

[idciminlove]

Take a Slice

Part Four- The Diner

f!reader x Tashi Duncan x Art Donaldson x Patrick Zweig

Cinnamonacid on AO3

Warnings- age gap, slightly suggestive content, hickeys, anxiety and overthinking

You and Tashi finally get to meet up and talk.

𝙼𝚊𝚢 𝟹𝟶𝚝𝚑

𝟾 𝙰𝙼

You groaned in frustration as you stood in front of the mirror, dabbing concealer over the splotchy purple marks on your neck. In forty five minutes, a car would be coming to pick you up to take you to meet with Tashi and you were hardly ready.

“You picked the worst time to do this. At this point my skin’s going to be two different colors.” You turned to Anneliese, showing her your neck. She giggled softly, and fuck, you can’t stay mad at her.

“You’re not blending enough. Here, let me help.” She got to her feet, taking the sponge from your hand and wiping it over your neck. You shivered slightly from her touch, sensitive from the contact.

You clenched and unclenched your fist, trying your hardest to stand still, despite all the anxious thoughts you had running through your mind. “Maybe I should just cancel.”

“What? Are you crazy? The car will be here in thirty minutes.”

“Maybe I could say I got sick, or something. Like really, really sick. I could send a picture of myself in one of the beds at the clinic and pretend I’m at the ER-”

Anneliese pulled away, frowning at you and murmuring your name sternly. “No. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. You worked so hard for this. You deserve it. You can’t give it up.”

You sighed softly, knowing she was right. “I’m just..scared.”

“I know, and that’s okay. It’s understandable, this is an intimidating situation. But remember, no matter what, you’re going to be okay. I know she’s going to love you. Who wouldn’t?” She stroked some hair out of your face, cupping your cheek and smiling at you.

You leaned in and kissed her, molding your lips against hers. She wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you closer, swiping her tongue against your bottom lip. You let yourself get lost in her for a minute, before pulling away and pressing soft kisses down her chin and neck.

“You’re sure you can’t come with me?” You mumbled against her neck. She let out a breathy sigh, before tugging at your hair, and pulling your head back. “You know I can’t. Now, c’mon, let’s find something for you to wear.”

After a little digging, you managed to find something. A blue button up blouse with a collar that covered the rest of your neck, hiding the hickeys that you couldn’t, and jeans to go with it. It was nice and casual, perfect for your meeting with Tashi.

The next thing you knew, you got a text from her telling that the car was waiting outside. So, you kissed Annelise goodbye, and left, ready to face whatever’s ahead.

–

Unsurprisingly, Tashi had picked a very nice place. A cafe, an expensive one at that. It looked like it cost money just for you to stand inside. After she greeted you outside, you followed her to the lounge area, sitting across from her on the cozy couches and exchanging pleasantries.

“I’ll have the chamomile tea.” She ordered when the waiter came over. You searched the menu anxiously, trying to find something that wouldn’t be too expensive. But you didn’t want to waste the waiter’s time or create a long awkward silence, so you found yourself blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

“I’ll have a hot chocolate, please.” Seriously? Who orders a hot chocolate in late May? She must think you’re such a freak.

But she just gave you a small smile. “It’s my treat, so don’t worry about paying.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.” You let the waiter take your menus. You tried not to stare at her, but also found it impossible to make eye contact. She was just making you so nervous, sitting there in the sleek dark black turtleneck that complimented her complexion so well, not to mention how it looked on her body, modest, but revealing just enough to leave you wanting more.

You tried to ignore that thought, feeling your face getting hot and your brain getting fuzzy. It took you a solid thirty seconds to realize that she was speaking to you, snapping you out of your daze. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you want coffee.”

“No thanks. I’m not really a coffee person. It makes me too hyper. My Mom always says that I have more than enough energy as it is.” You laughed nervously. Fuck, I’m such a dork.

She leaned back in her chair, blowing on her steaming tea and giving you a look you couldn’t decipher. “So, you and your Mom are pretty close, huh? Was she happy to hear about your win?”

“Yeah, she was thrilled. She’s always been really supportive with tennis and anything that can make me successful.” You replied.

“That’s good. How are you feeling about winning the NCAAs? I know it’s very exciting. You must be celebrating a lot.” Her eyes dropped to your neck briefly, as she gave you a once over.

You felt naked under her stare. You cleared your throat, tugging at your shirt collar and trying to cover yourself more. “I’ve celebrated a little, not too much, and I am happy. It’s been my biggest win in a while.”

“Not since the Junior’s US Open in 2020, right?” She knew about that? Of course she did. Has she known about you since then? You didn’t know if you should be flattered or nervous. What else did she know?

You gazed over at her, seeing an intense look in her eye. This felt like a test. A challenge. So, you straightened in your seat, smiling at her. “That’s right. You’ve done your research.”

“That’s just what coaches do. I also know about your knee injury the year after. You must’ve had an amazing recovery.”

You took a sip of your hot chocolate, nodding. “I did. I was lucky, very lucky. I dislocated my knee, but I didn’t tear anything too serious. I’m grateful that I was able to recover and have the chance to come back stronger and continue playing now.”

“And you’re content with your win? Satisfied?” She pressed, as if she could read you like a book. It was like she had cut you open, and could see that fire burning inside. Like she could see that insatiable part of you.

“Maybe for a little bit..but it’s not what I wanted.”

“What did you want?”

“...More.”

It was the truth. You were doing just as Anneliese had told you to, to be yourself. Your true self. Something flickered in Tashi’s eyes, and she dug her teeth into her bottom lip, grinning at you.

“Good. And if I said I could give you more, if I could train you and have you play professionally by next year, what would you think?”

The fire inside you roared to life, burning hot, screaming at you. Yes, yes, do it! You need this. You deserve this. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

You almost jumped at the opportunity, but you found yourself holding back. You hesitated. “I’d have to think about it.”

Her smile faded slightly. “Why’s that?”

“There are..people..that mean a lot to me. That I’d have a hard time leaving.” It’s forbidden to play professionally while playing in the NCAA. So if you left, it would be unlikely that you’d be able to come back. It would be burning a bridge, and leaving everyone you cared about behind. Leaving Anneliese behind.

“I want to play professionally, and I want you to train me, I really, really do. I just- I don’t know when.”

She paid the bill and got to her feet. “I get it, it’s a lot to think about. Take your time. Figure out what’s important to you, and text me when you’re ready. Your car should be here in five.”

With that, she walked off. You watched her leave, frozen in place, your mind reeling from what just happened.

[wonder-farm-hc]

Elliott headcanons!!

Just some general headcanons, cw for mentions of homophobia

The post was a bit long, so I ended up putting a "read more" banner, but nothing explicit is mentioned!

Requests are open!

-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-

❤️ He struggled many years with a speech stutter, but eventually was determined enough to overcome it (he practiced, a lot, in his mirror)

❤️He’s an only child, and up until middle school he was homeschooled. For this reason, he was always a bit more awkward than other kids, never made friends easily

❤️ Although part of why he didn’t make friends easily was because he was always true to himself: he had a fancier style than most, he liked to play piano and write, stuff that many of his peers didn’t find interesting or fascinating. That said, he never tried to fit into the mold, preferring to remain true to himself rather than dulling his lifestyle

❤️ As he lives on the beach, he observes the small creatures such as crabs, starfish and others. He often ends up chatting with Willy over the local sea population, and they’ve become somewhat good friends

❤️ When he arrived in the valley, the first person he bonded with was Leah: they bonded over being artists (although very different ones) and living alone in nature

❤️ They often have debates on art, philosophy, music: they prefer different things, with Elliott being less chaotic than Leah in his art, and tastes as well

❤️ He sometimes stays up until very very late. One time Willy (who was coming back from a night time fishing trip) spotted him awake at night. As Willy noticed the tension in Elliott’s speech and manners, he tried to be there for him, and the best way he could do that was to show him how to light the fireplace, in case he wanted some warth

❤️ He suffers from insomnia, that’s why he was up

❤️ Now, from time to time, Elliott lights it up when he can’t sleep. Not that it helps him sleep, but he find the crackling of the fire to be relaxing

❤️ Elliott and Shane, strangely enough, sometimes do get along. Elliott is one who, ideally, likes to provide for his loved ones and such, and that’s something that Shane understands very well (as he is protective towards Jas).

❤️ Plus, Elliott often spends time in the library, and therefore watches many lessons that Penny gives to Jas and Vincent (sometimes, he even helps Penny, or accompanies home the kids). Getting to know Jas automatically means to hear a lot about Shane, as he’s important to her

❤️ Elliott has refined tastes, that’s for sure, but he’s not squeamish as one may assume: quite the opposite

❤️ He realized he was queer later in life, when he got a crush for a friend of his. To this day, he’s not 100% confident in his queerness

❤️ He came out to Leah, one day while they were in her cabin. He simply whispered “I don’t think I’m straight” during a quiet moment, and she sensed his tension immediately

❤️ She helped him overcome a lot of the internalized homophobia he had (turns out kids joking about your interests being gay does leave a mark, even if you don’t notice it) and, ultimately, he decided to not put a label on himself

❤️ He likes the Hamilton musical, a lot (but it’s a secret)

-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-

This was fun to write! Although Elliott isn't one of my favorites, he's very cool to write about, and explore as a character in general!

I hope you enjoyed my silly little writing thing :)