#and 1 of the current endless
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Hob is woken, not by the shrill cacophony of his alarm or the sunlight hitting his face where they'd forgotten to pull the curtains last night, or even the warmth of Morpheus' hands and mouth, but by the sudden dip in the mattress as another person flops onto the bed with them.
Several lifetimes' worth of instincts see him jolting awake in an instant, heart racing and sweat already beading on his back and brow. Hob may not be able to die, but he's been ambushed in his sleep more than enough times to be getting on with, ta very much, and he's not keen to do it again. Suddenly he's twenty-five, and exhausted after days of marching on Troyes, feet sore and heart sorer, waiting on a battle that never came. He's twenty-eight, and the knife that flashes in the darkness misses his throat only because Herry has ears like a bat and enough blind-foolish loyalty to leap on their attacker's back. He's seventy-three, and lying barely-conscious among the dead that need burying or burning, and he knows that he needs to rouse himself even with the arrow still in his chest, or he'll be burnt or buried with them. He's two-hundred and sixty-four, and they've come to the home he'd made for his family, to drag him from the bed he had shared with his wife some thirty years before, and haul him away as a witch.
He's gripped now by the same fear, and it has him up and moving, one hand fumbling at the bedside table for anything with enough heft to dent a skull before he realises that none of his attackers have ever smelt like peaches.
Beside him, Morpheus shifts just enough to free his face from the clutches of his pillow.
“That key was given to you for use in emergencies, my sibling,” he says, voice thick with sleep and the cotton pillowcase.
Desire stretches luxuriously between them and smiles, fox-sharp, at Morpheus. They roll their head to look at him – beneath the perfume and sweat and wet pavement smell of them, Hob catches a sour waft of alcohol.
“Oh but my dear brother, this is an emergency,” they say, and – look, Hob has been drunk enough to recognise the exquisitely deliberate care at the edges of their words. He huffs a little, pushes himself up so that he can slap a hand on the bedside lamp and blink furiously against the sudden light. It takes a few seconds for his vision to clear, and he rubs his hands over his face in a vain effort to convince himself that this is some new nightmare that Daniel is testing out, before he gives in to the inevitable and turns to examine their guest.
"And what could possibly be so pressing at –" Morpheus snatches Desire's wrist up to stare blearily at their watch "– two thirty-seven in the morning? That could not be expressed in a phone call or wait until a reasonable hour?"
"Do you know, brother mine, how many partners I found to dance with? Whose desire for me, once so integral as to be a given, I had to simply guess at? To read in the curve of a smile or the enticing lull of a question? I didn't know them, not a one, and can you guess, sweet Dream, how many of them took me to their beds?"
And Hob has heard quite enough of that. He stretches and tosses back the sheets, while Morpheus shoots him a filthy glower that softens immediately into a plea for respite with his sole visible eye. Desire either doesn't notice this silent communication, or doesn't care.
“None!” They crow gleefully, clasping their hands, and Morpheus scowls as he's jostled in place.
It's not that Hob wants to leave him to fend for himself against his sibling, only that he doesn’t fancy being in the firing line when Morpheus inevitably snaps and thumps Desire with a pillow.
Doing an admirable job of ignoring Morpheus' wounded expression, Hob groans and lurches himself in the vague direction of the kitchen. Might as well put the kettle on for this.
"Jasmine or apple tea, love?" He calls. No sense having any caffeine now. If they're lucky, Desire will wear themself out quickly and they'll be able to go back to sleep before the alarm goes off.
"Apple, if you would," Morpheus replies.
"Ooh, I'll have jasmine if you're making."
"Didn't ask you!" Hob shouts back, already adding a spoon of sugar to the third mug he'd fetched down for them.
“Oh, so forceful! You know, if you ever get tired of my stick-in-the-mud brother here…” Desire trails off meaningfully, and Hob snorts, smiling a little to himself. They know full well it's not going to happen, however much or little they remember about his desires, and even if he were – impossibly – to change his mind about Morpheus, they'd get bored of him soon enough.
He sets all three mugs on a tray, and grabs a pack of chocolate digestives while he's at it. Morpheus would never admit to being fond of them, but he doesn't need to. Hob's watched him absent-mindedly devour most of a packet while he pecks one-handed at the keyboard. Besides, Desire could probably do with something to line their stomach.
“Is being human always this delightfully contradictory? So baffling and solid and… damp?” Desire asks, lifting their head just enough to peer at Hob as he re-enters the room. It's a moot question, of course. They've been human long enough now to know that the answer is, largely, yes.
“Often. But do you know, my sibling, the very best part of being human?” Desire turns lazily to look at Morpheus, smiling wide. Their lipstick today is dark purple, and smudged at the corners of their mouth.
“Mm, do tell. You know how much I crave your… wisdom,” they say, rolling the words indulgently over their tongue. Hob sighs and nudges Morpheus’ book to one side so he can set the tray down on the nightstand on his side of the bed.
“It is that it is no longer against the Old Laws for me to do this,” Morpheus says, planting one foot against their side and shoving hard enough that they topple off the bed with an outraged squawk and undignified thump. There's a blessed moment of stillness, the same kind of breathless anticipation that Hob remembers from the battlefield, before the charge and the mud and the pain. Then they pop back up over the side of the bed with a cry and launch themself at Morpheus. He'd be more worried if he couldn’t hear the laughter in their voice, nor see how their outstretched hands target Morpheus’ ribs and armpits, rather than his eyes.
Hob's sisters have been dead for centuries now, but he remembers this well enough. Maybe if the Endless had ever been anything like children, they might have gotten all of the murderous posturing out of the way before they grew up enough for it to be a problem, he muses. Still. Better late than never.
He takes a sip of his own tea and grabs a biscuit. Lord knows he won't get a look in once Morpheus has finished trying to jam his elbow into Desire's stomach and realises they're there.
“It was never against the Old Laws for you to be a bastard, which is lucky because you always were one!” Desire gasps, writhing away from Morpheus’ pointy limbs. Hob's been at the receiving end of those elbows before, and even when Morpheus is being gentle, they're decently sharp. He wonders idly if either of them'll tire of this before their tea goes cold, and decides not to intervene either way. Serve them both right if they have to drink cold tea.
“You tried to kill me!”
“Don't tell me you're still hung up on that?”
“I am, because you tried to kill me!”
“Well it's not like it worked!”
Not really the point, Hob reckons, but then again he's had plenty of mates that have tried to kill him.
“More by good fortune than good judgment,” Morpheus hisses.
“Oh, so you admit to your poor judgment?”
Hob snorts, and the wounded look Morpheus swings towards him would fell a lesser man. Hob takes another biscuit.
“Ha!” Desire takes advantage of his momentary distraction to lock their arms around his shoulders and blow a loud raspberry against his cheek. Hob doesn’t think he's entirely successful in hiding his smile. Morpheus doesn't even try to hide his look of disgust.
Well, he had to learn the downsides of being an older brother at some point, Hob supposes.
Judging that the worst of the scrapping is over, he perches on the edge of the bed and pats Morpheus’ flank idly. Desire, loose-limbed with alcohol and triumph, flops over him to reach for their tea. Morpheus magnanimously doesn't jab his fingers into their exposed side.
“Thank you, Robert darling,” Desire says, eyes half-lidded as they drink. It comes out far less coquettish than Hob imagines they intended; too genuinely content. Morpheus sighs, and frowns, and doesn't quite do a good enough job of hiding his own ease as he sits up and leans against Hob.
“I suppose you intend to stay the night?” Morpheus asks. There's nothing of the dignified dreamlord about him now, with his hair flattened on one side and just a little lank, and pillow creases on his cheek. He peers at Desire, half of his weight still supported by Hob, who takes another slurp of tea and polishes off the last of his biscuit. It's still unbelievable, sometimes, that he may see his dour and distant old stranger like this. Something tangible, something grounded, something he can hold. Unbelievable, too, after the way they had almost parted, after the way Morpheus had almost –
Well. Doesn't bear thinking about, really.
“Mm, yes, if you'll have me.” Do they have to work to make everything they say sound like a double entendre, Hob wonders, or does it come naturally? He's not entirely sure they even notice they're doing it.
“You're always welcome,” Hob says. “Guest room's all made up, and there's a spare toothbrush under the sink you can have.”
“How very kind. Dream, dear, isn't your man kind?”
“Unreasonably so.”
“Ta, love,” Hob says, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Desire rolls their eyes theatrically, as though that might mask how their expression softens. “Now drink your tea, I'd like to get a few more hours’ sleep before I need to get up.”
Morpheus grumbles but straightens up, plucking his mug from the nightstand and cradling it in one hand while he reaches for a biscuit with the other.
“Should we expect any of our other siblings to join us tonight?” He asks, managing somehow not to spray crumbs everywhere as he does so, which is a bit unfair. Hob has centuries more experience talking through mouthfuls of crumbly biscuits, and he still can't do as good a job of it. “I take it you did not venture out alone this night.”
“No I didn't, but don't worry,” Desire says, tilting their head back as they drain their mug, a neat ring of purple left behind on the ceramic. “My sweet twin is unlikely to make an appearance. I certainly hope, at least – she went home with that little exorcist friend of yours. If she comes here, then something’s gone dreadfully wrong.”
They grin, cat with the cream pleased at the expression on Morpheus’ face, and flick their hand in something like a wave. “Well, goodnight brother! Robert.”
They flounce away towards the spare room, and Hob presses his smile into the curve of Morpheus’ shoulder.
“I hate them,” Morpheus grumbles. Hob kisses the bony jut of skin where his t-shirt has slipped, once, twice.
“No you don't,” he says. Morpheus sighs, sets his mug down, and returns to hold Hob's face still for a proper kiss. Not that Hob would try to get out of it.
“No,” he agrees softly, pulling Hob down with him for a cuddle onto pillows that still smell a little of peaches. “No. I do not.”
#dreamling#dream of the endless#desire of the endless#hob gadling#This was originally going to be part of 'Em's retirement home for wayward Endless'#in which Dream retired and all of the other Endless followed (except destruction who didn't want someone else saddled with the job)#A sort of 5+1 thing with each of the ex-endless siblings interacting with dream and hob#and 1 of the current endless#But unfortunately my brain isn't up to that so you guys get this instead#Anyway I think a lot of problems would have been solved if Dream and Desire had gone through developmental stages like regular siblings#Here we see the 'toddler' phase. Hob is lucky they're not biting each other#Not exactly a writing tag
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sketches for a premise called what if dream smiled more and was happier and enjoyed living and loved life and —
#the sandman#new style because i cannot stand my current one it just doesn’t look good idk#the new style is called#✨realism✨#dream of the endless#fan art#morpheus#sandman art#tom sturridge#the way you just put tom sturridge in morpheus hair and it’s immediately happy morpheus#i mean duh but#ok u get me#i like to imagine this is what young dream looked like#:(((((((((((((#quibs does art#also i cant draw his season 1 hair at ALL lmao#i used the s2 bts pics for a reference of the one in the corner and it’s so much easier to draw
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perks over entering a fandom 10 years late:
there are so many 100+k word fics on your ship having various beautiful endings, together.
#bagginshield#stony#currently 1 and half years into stony and the fics are endless#then i entered bagginshield fandom and THE AMOUNT OF FIX IT FICS!!!!#BLESS YOU ALL AUTHORS
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fucking HATE naming characters
#it’s a struggle between ‘looking up endless myths and literature for character parallels’ and ‘baby name websites’#also ‘they can’t all have 1 syllable names’ and ‘their names can’t all end in a’ and ‘their names can’t all end in y’#and sci fi names fucking suck because there’s a fine line between otherworldly and poetic and. oh that’s fucking nonsense isn’t it#i currently have one full name. two first names i’m somewhat happy with. and the other two are torturing me#i thought i’d got a name for one of them and then realised that i can’t really call my protagonist rose tyler. so back to square one#morganposting
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do u think people would be less stupid about ai if it was called something else
Like if they knew it wasn’t “smart” and is instead plagiarizing would they stop worshiping it so much
Then again the people who are into it are nft cryptobros and very real business™️ people with real jobs that definitely aren’t fake (cough) who just want to fire anyone to save .1% of the company budget
so they’d probably fall for it anyway
It just seems like people are getting the wrong idea :p
#that being said yes ai is currently destroying the internet by spamming the lowest quality garbage imaginable#but it’s not intelligent. just an algorithm#the predictive text on your phone#the fear of losing your job is real I can understand that#what I’m talking about is the people who are convinced it’s like. self aware? lol#these people have convinced themselves this is The Big Thing and right now in its current state. it’s not#if you need endless braindead slop then yeah it’s fine#but it’s just a toy right now#unfortunately people are losing their job to a toy#but thats a whole topic right there that i am not going to pretend I can get into#the end goal is dirt cheap work that passes the 1 second sniff test before someone scrolls past#whether the work is made by someone being paid a few dollars a day in a poor country or a data center doesn’t really matter to them#whichever option is cheaper is the one they’ll pick#world is a fuck etc etc we all know this
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big fan of things ending. for good, even.
#I forget if I made this post already but sometimes things are good because they cannot be repeated#like yes are there stories we tell again and again: Gilgamesh the Odyssey Macbeth Romance of the Three Kingdoms etc etc#but crucially 1) they are reinterpretations of a pre-existing text or story#Homer is not out here churning out Odyssey II or Iliad: the Endless Reboot#like we know the story but it's told to us in a different way because there's some new way to look at it#and 2) they're actually significant stories to culture that have layers and meaning and portray something meaningful about humanity#and when they're told to us again and again they're COMPLEX#so there's generally something new for each new audience#and like#I am not saying that superheroes or Star Wars cannot have something meaningful to say#like I genuinely think they do#Star Wars has a story to tell that is fascinating it's a traditional fantasy set in space and the villain is the father#And what does it mean to love and forgive someone? these are fascinating to explore#and superheroes are basically the modern equivalent of demigods and legendary heroes except limited by the fact that#their stories have to make money so they actually can never grow or come to a satisfying conclusion#but the current stories being told and retold are shallow and endlessly repeated until they become stale#(and don't get me started on spoilers and how that's ruined a lot of people's perceptions about storytelling)#like not every adaptation or retelling of say Pride and Prejudice or the Iliad or Hamlet is going to be good#but at least there's something there relevant to the complicated lives of people?? and it's not simplistic?? I mean yes sometimes it can be#a little simplistic#but in their simplicity they reveal layers of humanity more obviously#whereas when I see a lot of the reboots and sequels they're just about making money#getting laughs#the story they tell is shallow so it can appeal to the broadest group of people but in a way that doesn't make anyone think too deeply#COULD these stories be deeper?? yes absolutely#some of them are quite good#The Winter Soldier was good and even if I didn't like everything in the Nolanverse the second Batman movie was also good#so the potential is there#but once again it's limited by people who 1) want to make money 2) want to write a simple story so people like it without thinking and#3) I hate to say it but not everything in pop culture is actually that deep so any reboots or sequels are probably not
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ooougggh the eternal torment
#in the midst of another Entire Week On Except 1 Day Off the pain is forever and endless. my fucking spine dude i cant keep doing this shit#currently we dont HAVE anyone else which is fuckin bullshit and not my fault. get me outta here
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it makes me unreasonably happy that my streamer was the first trader I got in vault hunters LMAO
#im just sitting here going thats my guy!!! he trades kinda expensive vault bronze!!#richest guy on the server frfr#and im currently sitting here vibing with him as he djs after purgatory 2 day 1 as he makes endless bangers#becca rambles#becca mines and crafts#vault hunters
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— sleepover
pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader
contains: fluffff! jeff and rio being realistic parents, miles being stubborn per usual
summary: miles’ parents finally agreed to letting the two of you have a sleepover, on one condition. however, miles was never the best at following directions. wc: 1,630
New york. The city that never sleeps.
The faint murmuring of bustling cars and the habitual honking of horns seeped through the tight seal of the shut apartment window; ironic in the way it somehow lulled you. An imperfect melody you welcomed—also the same one deemed a nuisance by those foreign to the chaos that naturally assimilated to comfort the longer you remained in Brooklyn. It usually helped you slip into a slumber with ease—but now— was succeeding in its attempt of doing the exact opposite.
And when you heard Miles expel a weighted, disgruntled sigh; you were led to believe the two of you had more in common with each other apart from the fact that you both lived here.
After weeks and weeks of begging, and endless explanations as to why exactly he needed his girlfriend to sleep over when they wouldn’t even get to utilize the time spent together because they were supposed to be asleep, Miles had finally convinced his mom and dad to let the two of you have a sleepover.
Fun, right?
Yeah, well you thought it’d be. Until his mom insisted the two of you bring your pillows and blankets and fantasies of your life as a matured couple to the living room and sleep out there. Six feet away from each other. You guys were practically social distancing like it was 2019 all over again.
The curt reasoning she offered included something about her not wanting the two of you in his room alone at night; not that she thought her son would actually be dumb enough to do anything along those lines with her in the house. You loved Mama Rio, but even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. This was her house, and that meant you had to follow her rules. The fact that you were even able to come over as much as you did was a blessing in itself, so you took everything else in stride.
Miles let you take the couch of course, and he was currently sprawled out on his back on the floor, a pillow tucked beneath his head as he studied the minuscule cracks in the ceiling as if they truly interested him. Scrolling through his instagram timeline had gotten old fairly quickly, and at 1:00AM in the morning, neither of you were really motivated enough for conversation.
You were more than grateful to spend a night with your boyfriend, but this wasn’t necessarily how you expected it to go. Whenever you guys would hang out during normal hours of the day, you’d always end up in his embrace, curled and cuddled into each other comfortably. Whatever movie or tv-show you’d put on in the background begging for the same attention you’d give each other. After growing used to such a routine, that was really the only way you could fall asleep at his house.
But alas, holding your pillow close to you instead of him would have to suffice, you decided, as you let your eyes close once again.
“Baby?” Miles called out into the darkness, lip chewed in anticipation.
Silence.
He’d said only a word but you knew better than to engage. A conversation would end up with the two of you in trouble in the morning, so you pretended to be asleep.
“I know you’re awake. I counted exactly three seconds between your last two breaths and when you’re asleep it slows down to five.”
You stifled a laugh, ultimately blowing your cover. “Okay, now that’s just creepy.”
“People who are asleep don’t laugh!” he quipped.
A smile snuck onto your lips and you hadn’t the heart to reprimand it, lids peeling back open to stare up at the same ceiling he was.
“Yes, Miles?”
“Can you not fall asleep either, or have I become an insomniac all of a sudden?” The question came with a sigh, long arms spread to their full wingspan as he tried to count how many full rotations the ceiling fan made in a minute. That was how bored he was.
You sighed disappointedly, toying with the frayed tassels on your blanket. A moue on your face. “No, I can’t fall asleep either.”
“I think I know why.” he sung the last word in suggestion, hands absentmindedly drumming against his abdomen.
“Miles,” you warned, letting your head fall to the side so you could stare at the top of his head and address him directly. “Your mom gave very specific instructions, and personally, I would like to return home to mine with my head still on my shoulders.” grumbling your response, you shoved down the urge to invite him up there with you like your mind was telling you to.
He propped himself up on an elbow at that, eyes immediately making contact with yours. Your first mistake was not looking away, because those pretty pools of hazel were already starting to convince you and he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet.
“But how is that fair?” he complained, sounding exasperated. “We take naps together all the time when you’re here, I just wanna cuddle with you.” he sulked, as if you were the one who’d come up with the rule. Never in a million years would you submit the both of you to this kind of torture. You loved falling asleep in his arms.
You rolled your eyes at him, “Well, yeah. But that’s during the day, when she can check on us anytime she wants to. I don’t think your mom wants us that close to each other at night for,” The last part of your sentence faded to a jumbled murmur as your gaze traveled back to the ceiling. “…obvious reasons.”
He impishly raised a brow as if he didn’t know what you were referring to, chin resting in the palm of his hand. With only the faded lights of the city to illuminate the living room, the cheeky smile on his face went unnoticed, though you could hear it in the tone of his voice, loud and clear.
“And what reasons are those?” Miles asked, feigning innocence. His long lashes blinking at you.
Hand smacking to your forehead, you recited a silent prayer, a plea for strength. It was beginning to look like you weren’t going to get yourself out of this. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
His hand gestured to the air, plainly. “Well obviously. But still, we’re not dumb. That’s why I always take you to the roof when we—“
“Miles Gonzalo Morales do not finish that sentence!”
He snorted at the squeak of your voice and you used your pillow to hide your heated face.
“This is not going to help us fall asleep.” your irritated statement was muffled from the fabric of the pillowcase.
He hummed. “Exactly, meaning there’s only one thing left to try.” Slow to catch on, you didn’t realize what he meant until you felt the couch dip from the weight of his knee.
A hand trickled up the exposed skin of your thigh and it stopped when it met your sleep-shorts clad hip, the pillow snatched from your face and tossed onto the floor where he previously resided just a second ago.
“What are you—?”
He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the cushion beside your waist to hold himself up. Your question fell short when he swiftly parted your legs with his other hand and comfortably slotted his body between your thighs. A relieved sigh escaped him, his cheek nuzzling into the soft of your chest when he laid on top of you. His favorite way to cuddle.
“Shhh, trying to sleep.” murmuring a dismissive answer to your query, he let his eyes flutter to a close and snaked his arms around your waist, forearms cradling the curve of your back.
Contrary to the fight you were putting up just a minute ago— your arm curled over the expanse of his shoulders, fingers idly twirling at the baby curls that dusted the nape of his neck, something you always did to help him fall asleep faster. He let out a low, satisfied sound and relaxed into you completely, his hold on you tightening. While a part of you wanted to protest, an even bigger part wanted to remain under him like this. His weight was comforting; made you feel secure in the way a weighted blanket did.
“Your mom is not going to be happy with us.” you reminded him, stretching your other arm down enough to grab your blanket and pull it up over the two of you.
“It’s worth it. I’ll happily take the blame,” he drawled sleepily, snuggling in closer to the kiss that grazed his forehead. “I love you…” The laggard pace to his words let you know he was already dozing off, and you smiled, fatigue finally catching up with you too.
“I love you, Miles.”
— extra scene
Jeff stood in silence, arms folded over his broad chest and lips puckered awkwardly. Rio occupied the space next to him, hands perched on her wide hips, fingers tapping against them and her jaw clenched in disapproval. Her expression was everything but amused at the scene in front of them. He stole a tactful glance at his wife every two seconds, silently trying to gauge how irritated she was without having to ask her.
Sometime during the night you and Miles had switched places, and now his lanky legs were draped over the arm of the small couch and you were on top of him, clung to his body like a wet T-shirt, face barely visible seeing as it was nestled into the crook of his neck. With his mouth hanging slack as he loftily snored, Rio felt her eye almost twitch while she stared down at her stubborn son, who seemed to have magically teleported from his assigned spot on the floor and into yours instead.
“Well, I coulda told’ya that would happen.” Jeff said quietly with a laid-back shrug, to which Rio responded with a back-handed swat to his chest.
“Ow!”
Through her aggravation she still kept her voice low as to not wake the two of you, eyes narrowed at her husband. “I am going to strangle this boy, Jeff. Dios ayudame. ¡Tu hijo nunca escucha! (God help me, your son never listens!)” she griped, gesturing towards Miles’ arm that was loosely circled around your waist. She tramped down the hall, hands tossed up in defeat while she grumbled something incoherent under her breath.
Lips downturned into an offended frown, Jeff coddled his chest with his palm and followed after her, voice kicked up an octave like a nagging child. “Why is he only my son when he does something you don’t like? We made him together!”
- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!
likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated 💗
#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse#1610 miles morales#miles morales#earth 1610 miles morales x reader#miles morales fanfiction#miles morales fluff#miles morales x black!reader#miles morales x fem!reader#miles morales x you#across the spiderverse fanfiction
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strong enough | j. jungkook (1)
< series masterlist
paring: Jungkook x (f) reader
genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut
warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook
w.c: 10.6k
series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.
a/n at very bottom!
Jungkook didn’t need to prove to you that he was able to live by himself on his own without you, he wanted to. so for the past 7 months, he’s been taking care of himself in every way he felt he needed you to help him with.
he didn’t do it just for you though, he did it for his life. he was dependent on you, for all of his feelings and to make sure he did the tasks he needed to do. he made sure to watch himself and watch how he acts, he made sure to try his best to take care of himself, sometimes he wanted to text you that it was easy, a piece of cake he would even say.
but since you were here anymore, for the last 6 months, he’d been on his own and doing things on his own. better than he expected too, he expected himself the next week after you tore him apart that he’d be right back at your doorsteps, begging you take him back.
but he didn’t, he stayed strong, and truly believed if you loved him, you would come back. eventually. but he couldn’t wait for you any longer. he couldn’t just sit around and be unmotivated hoping you would come back soon. so he stood his ground, worked out every morning and night, the endless punches against his punching bag echoed in his empty house, the house you used to fill the empty void for.
for now, he blocked you on everything, avoids the events your group is invited to, and makes sure he doesn’t do afterparties; that’s how he met you, mama 2018, an after party somewhere at someone’s house, not that he cared at the moment, he just wanted to get wasted. he met you, standing there, looking around and watching your members have the time of their lives when all you wanted to do was drink off your mood. jungkook saw right through you, feeling the same way he did as of currently, watching his older members laugh and make conversations with other idols.
now that he thinks about it, you both needed help, or didn’t need each other at the moment. he wanted it to work, knowing the consequences of two mentally unstable people in a relationship, he wanted to change you for the better. he didn’t want to change you completely, but the way you felt about life; how you would tell him that you didn’t see a future for yourself, that you just wanted to live but not actually live, but to disappear and not die. so he nods, agreeing in his head that everything happened between you two was for the better, staring wide at his shiny black shoes on the platform below them. he needs to stop thinking about things before he gets on stage, to perform in front of every idol possible to win an award tonight.
he sighs though, his thoughts were taking over his mind again about all the could ofs and would ofs, but he took deep breaths and turned to his older to make sure everything was fine, to get some sort of comfort through the others eyes.
hoseok, one of the older members of his group and the one he came to when you broke up with him, nods with a tight smile on his face, giving Jungkook that type of relief he needed; hoseok was there when you weren’t, he took care of him like the good person he is. Jungkook doesn’t blame you though, he would get away from him too. he doesn’t hate you either, he never will.
screams could be heard behind the sounds in his ears, the constant clicking to make sure he’s on beat. he needed to perform well he thought to himself. his habit of tapping his fingers against each other showing once again, a habit he told himself he would get rid of. again, looking at his hoseok, smiling at his older who looks born to be on the stage before letting the platform below his feet rise up to level with the stage.
the arena screams, the lights become dark as beams of blinding light shown down on the members, and it takes a minute for your eyes to register to realize its bangtan. your eyes searched, you didn’t want them to search but they did on their own. they landed right on him, Jungkook, the love of your life you would like to say.
sometimes you reach your phone to text him, to tell him this stupid idea you had for a song, or a photo of something that reminded you of him. you have to remind yourself everyday that you can’t check your messages, his good mornings won’t be there any longer. you have to keep remembering that you can’t just call him after practices to come pick you up because you hate the idea of being alone with your manager in the car. but then you realize, you ruined things.
you had this “perfect relationship”, you had everything you wanted, the person you wanted for so long before becoming an idol. but, you soon realized it was wrong, and you were both not well. especially you, not just him. the way you acting towards each other during the rough times when you should of been helping each other shows, you see other couples when they are sad and how they help each other, yet you couldn’t with him. you’ve never been super into comforting people, so seeing him the way he was, made you mad. it was an indescribable feeling that you can’t even explain, it felt like a competition against who feels the worst about their lives and who had it the hardest. so when one of you talked about your feelings, it would start an argument, one that led to sleeping in different rooms and one that led to not waking up to Jungkook’s cooking.
you hate thinking about it, but when you think of him, you don’t think of the good times. you think of how you made him cry, forgetting to tell him that you were the one who was hurting the worst, not that he was a mess or how you felt like you couldn’t take care of him . it just came out, heat of the moment you like to say, but you know you’re in the wrong, you know that you should of helped him when he physically couldn’t breathe without you comforting him in some sort of way.
“it’s like you can’t live without me,” you say, your feet killing you from a day event with your group, sitting down on the couch next to him while you rub the pain out of your feet, not realizing your words towards him.
“what does that mean?” he was already in tears, his voice shaking as his throat closing from crying and gasping, “i- i called you because i need help, ______, i don’t know-”
“Jungkook, you never let me in,” you sigh, staring back at the silent man, and that’s when you froze. you forgot your words, your mind going blank, the reason you were even there, “i mean, i want you to talk to me- i don’t even know what’s going on, how can i even help?” you kept spitting out worse comments, his poor heart couldn’t handle it, and you couldn’t handle it.
“i can’t explain it- i can’t breathe, i- i don’t know what’s going on-” you cut him off in a blink, pulling his head into your chest and tugging your fingers in his hair hoping for the best, just for his arms to wrap around you as his breathing becomes quicker, the sobs getting louder.
he didn’t know who else to call, knowing you both can’t be seen in public together, but he didn’t know how else to calm down.
“i’m here, Jungkook, i always will be, but i think we need to stop,”
he looks taller, slimmer, maybe more muscular? you think as you bite your lips hoping for it to bleed a little before you stop. you never liked watching him from a distance, it reminded you a bit of your childhood crushes which you hated the thought of those. you watched him sync with the other members smoothly and perfectly, his voice perfect as ever and hitting the notes perfectly to your ears. you smile, forgetting the memory you got, and watching him proudly.
he’s living without you, hopefully dealing with things with out you. you should be happy, right? you rub your sweaty palms on your blanket, the room felt like it was closing in on you, feeling as if him and you were the only people in the whole arena. you miss him, the way things used to be, the way you used to be, but things are different now. without even realizing the performance was over, you clap along with the others as the noise of palms smacking rings in your ears. you definitely miss him.
you should not be smiling right now, Jungkook thinks, now standing a little bit behind your group as you win the award you were nominated for. but you should, he should be happy that you guys got another win, with the song that gave you a headache everytime he mentioned how well it was going to be for your group. but you shouldn’t in his heart, not when he’s standing feet away from you, when you’re standing feet away from the one person you should be with and not distancing from.
Jungkook wonders, does your heart pound around him like his does? how it feels like it running around in circles like it’s winning a marathon, pounding practically out of his chest every time he breathes in, it hurts when he looks at you.
he wishes to know what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling when your leader lets you hold the award as she performs her speech for the crowd. he wants to know how the award feels in your hands as you grip it tightly, maybe you feel his presence after all when his eyes dart to your hands shaking.
he told himself no more after parties, no more of you and events with you possibly being there. but you looked so pretty, he couldn’t help it. the way your makeup looked like it was your skin, the glitter in the corner of your eyes making them pop out more. he could just leave with yoongi whenever, knowing he wouldn’t want to be there for long anyways, he would rather be alone after such a long event.
did he miss you too? you thought, rubbing your thumb against the plastic cup in your tight grib, sipping on the drink as your members talk to another and other idols. you glance at him every now and then, not that you cared he was there. definitely not the reason why you were here, not hoping he would be here also.
you sigh in thought, he doesn’t even look like he wants to be here, and you know he doesn’t by the way his eyebrows furrow at a obvious drunk idol passing by and saying hello to him. you sighed again, loudly supposably as yerin glares at you.
“just go talk to him already,”
“talk? talk to who? i don’t know who you’re talking about,” you play it off as you were confused, you couldn’t let her know. it made her glare more deadly and more hard to ignore, you wanted to rip your hair our right about then.
“Jungkook, he’s been looking at you all night too, you know?”
“he has?” you quickly question, realizing she tricked you into saying who it is, kinda. “i mean, what are you talking about-”
“i know, ______, just go. i know how badly you want to make it up with him.” she knows, you glup hard as she tilts her head aggressively towards his figure. it’s not that you didn’t want to make it up to him, it that’s you felt like you couldn’t. you were so trapped in your own mind to find the motivation to help his needs and necessities in your relationship.
Jungkook tried to not look at you a lot, making sure the cup in his hand and the loud laughter around him was distracting him enough to take his eyes away from you. when he felt like something was off, he glanced at you, but when he did, you were gone.
knowing Jungkook, you purposely left and went outside, sitting and watching the stars glisten in your naked eye, the music booming loudly behind you. you knew he would come finding you soon, knowing something was wrong if you were gone away from your group for awhile. Jungkook knows you from the back of his palm, you were together for almost 5 years.
when Jungkook did, he finds you sitting right on the cold to touch balcony, your head already turnt to look at him. you find it crazy, how good he looks just standing there out of breath searching for you, in the flickering porch light. he was just standing there with his eyes widened of you waiting for him, yet he was always still pretty no matter the emotions displayed on his face.
his eyes follow yours, searching them to find the reason to your disappearance, all while you start to stand up and turn your whole body towards him before speaking. you weren’t planning anything, what you were going to say to him and how you were going to even look him in the eyes. you just had to stay strong, looking deeply into his as you spoke what was replaying on your mind.
“do you miss me like i miss you?”
“you have no idea, _____,”
the wind blowing harshly against your already prickled skin didn’t bother you, the cold night tingling goosebumps on your arms even with Jungkook’s jacket over your shoulders, giving you the slightest bit of warmth. you had no clue how you ended up here, the car ride being a daze and being in the closest you’ve been to Jungkook in months had you biting your tongue to see if things were actually happening.
‘do you want to talk?’
‘i always want to talk to you, Jungkook,’
‘let’s get you out of here then, yeah?’
the park was silently decided between the two of you, sitting on an empty bench as you watched the clouds blissfully cover the moon every other second. the silence that took over the two of you sat comfortably, but so uncomfortable at the same time that it was starting to hurt your airways. there’s so much to be said but you both haven’t spoken up since you’ve gotten there.
you sigh, it was hard to do, to see him again and all was amazing, you always missed him and hearing his voice, hearing the way he said your name. you were so in love with him that you couldn’t pull yourself away. you felt trapped, in a good way, but not in the way you needed at the moment. you just wanted him, but you felt like everything in your life now was dependent on him. you needed him, he knew you, he knew how to help you.
it sucked that you felt like you only ever needed him in your life, only trying for him, only doing good performing for him, only ever speaking to him, only surrounding yourself with him, he was everywhere. any time you needed Jungkook, he was always there, in some shape or form. speaking or not, he wanted to help you and be there for you, not realizing it wasn’t helping your unhappiness and depression but making you feel worse about how he had to take care of you like a baby. you were trying so hard to get better only to realize that you weren’t doing it for yourself, you were doing it for Jungkook. Jungkook and Jungkook only.
“i really think we should talk, Jungkook-”
“you know, i really miss hearing you talk. i don’t know how you’re doing but i would personally like to know,” it shocked you, he never usually wanted to talk about personal things or pressured you to talk about how you’re doing on top of everything he already knew. Jungkook knew that there was a reason he didn’t know much because that’s just how you are. he loves you, and looking at you right now feels so right in his heart. he knew for awhile that you were the one for him, he wasn’t going to lose you that easily.
“Jungkook, we can’t be doin-”
“i get it,” he waves you off, obviously on the verge of tears because you couldn’t handle speaking to him at all. you’ve done this many times, tried to remove him from your life completely. but you always manage to come back, saying things along the lines of ‘we can’t be doing this,’ or ‘we shouldn’t do this, Jungkook,’. he will always scared that you’ll actually never come back so he takes these talks very seriously.
“no, Jungkook, you don’t,” you sigh once again, youre never able to put what you want to say into words, they come out wrong or rude or not true. there was so much you wanted to say. how could you say it in the easiest but nicest way possible without sobbing? you don’t dare to look at him just yet because you know you’ll fold immediately and run back to him. but you stood your ground, turned your head towards him and made complete contact while you spoke, “we can’t keep doing this, talking when we miss each other. i’ll never get better- you’ll never get better if we keep this loop going on. i love you, Jungkook,” you reached for his face, wiping the tears that started pouring as soon as you looked at him, “you’re forever my number one, i’ll do anything for you even it’s letting you go so you can focus on yourself and your career, you know i’m not any better than you,”
at this point he knew he looked pathetic, sobbing in to your palms are you talked about how much you both needed this when all he felt like was that leaving you is the worst thing to ever happen to him, he felt like he was suffocating with the truth. you loved him, he should be happy, but why are you leaving? you’re leaving him once again just for him to go through the same process all over again. he would drink, party every weekend, over sleep, have bad practices and messing up everything with his dancing. you tear him apart, every damn time.
he was more mad than upset, what did you leaving have anything with him if you loved him? you don’t love him, he thought, his eyes now furrowing at you and slowly tearing his face away from your hands rubbing his face.
“Kook, i’m sorry it has to be this-” but all he can do is just snort, raising to walk away, drive away before he starts to kiss you to make you shut up about getting better. you are never fair, you knew that by the look in your eyes as if your heart just got shattered when all you keep doing is tear his heart apart. he wanted to roll his eyes, you didn’t care about his feelings until he started crying and begging for you to even talk to him.
“come back to me when you’re ready, this could easily be talked about and fixed but you never let me in, claiming i never let you in but here i am, bawling my eyes out to you because you can’t stop leaving me,” he started walking back towards you, his feet wide causing his things to spread your legs apart.
you gasped as he leaned low, leveling his face in front of yours, you felt like you couldn’t breathe when he goes to speak, “you can’t just keep coming back to me when you feel like it, either fix your shit or decide if you want to stay with my messy self. we both know you’re just as fucking messy.”
ouch.
A/N: ouch is definitely the word for this chapter! reminder that this will have a happy ending i promise ( :c ) and this will definitely be a very slow slow burn. i had so much fun writing this and im so thankful for all the support you guys have been giving me, i really do think this series will do well and i really hope it will! reblogs are always more helpful than notes!
(COMMENT TO BE ON TAGLIST FOR NEXT CHAPTER OR WHOLE SERIES)
tags: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @yunholuv @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor
#hyukaslvr#writers on tumblr#kpop fyp#tumblr writers#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jungkook seven#jeon jungkook#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#bts x reader#bts smut#bts jungkook#bts fanfic#bts#bts x y/n#bts x you#jungkook x you#jungkook#jungkook golden#i love jungkook#kpop writers#kpop fluff#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfics#kpop x reader#kpop x y/n#kpop x you
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Ever A Never After — story masterpost
⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie)
⟶ Summary | Growing up in the fairy tale land, your whole life seems to have been written perfectly in the books, with the picturesque life and the Prince Charming that you can see yourself having your happily ever after with.
But your entire world turns upside down when you are suddenly sent into a whole new world, a different kind of universe where happily ever after doesn’t exist. Thrust into a new challenge and shown a new side of life, you find yourself standing in a crossroad. When the moment arises, would you find your way back home to your true love, or is the universe trying to show you that sometimes happy endings don’t have to be written so perfectly?
⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader
⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Angst, Smut
⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; specific warnings will be added accordingly on each published chapters
⟶ Status / Current word count / Total word count | ONGOING; latest update: Ever A Never After: Act 1 (May 21st, 2024) - 19,688 words of n/a words
⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi | Music companion
⟶ Cross-posted in AO3 and Wattpad
⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After
⟶ Story Note | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). In place of the coding, you’ll find a blank space as her name. Please also note that our main character/reader insert for this story has her own nickname that will be used in the scenes. While the story is adapted from the movie, Enchanted, with some characters and places that were mentioned in the movie added into this story, I will be adding changes in the story settings, characters’ names and background stories to fit the plot. That being said, as someone who has never set foot in the land of America, forgive me if there are some inaccuracies in the details that are being added here. I hope that doesn’t change your reading experience with the story.
⟶ Chapters
⇢ Act One. Andalasia, The Maiden, and The Dream Prince
[“It’s you. The boy I saw in my dreams.” “It’s me. Your Prince Charming.” | Word count: 19,688 words | Chapter Teaser]
⇢ Act Two. The Alter World and The Saviour
[“I need to find my way back to the castle.” “What castle?” “Why, of course, I’m talking about Andalasia.” “Huh, right. Why don’t I just call you an Uber?” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]
⇢ Act Three. Fairy Tales and Bittersweet Endings
[“You forgot to say the part where you lived happily ever after.” “Happily ever after? That thing doesn’t exist, not in the real world.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]
⇢ Act Four. The Ball for The Kings and Queens and Dragons
[“There is a ball for the Queen and Kings at the start of spring. Shall we go together?” “As your Prince Charming, I’ll be happy to escort you.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]
⇢ Act Five. Prince Charming and a Happily Never After
[“Look at how the tables have turned, as now I have in my hand the Prince who is supposed to protect the princess.” “Come along now, dear. You wouldn’t want to miss the ending.” | Word count: — | Chapter Teaser]
⟶ Fic talk & references
⇢ image reference
⇢ readers feedback & discussions
⟶ Patreon specials
⇢ visual inspiration board
⇢ fic commentary (coming soon)
⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | It’s finally here! I’m so sorry for taking so long with this one. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. As mentioned in our last talk, there will be some changes from the original prompt/details that I’ve made to make the story work better, but I hope you’ll be able to enjoy it still. I have decided to release this one as a mini-series to present the timeline more appropriately and make the storyline work. Have fun reading!
— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.
#misc: masterlist#k-vanity#btscreaturescoven#bangtanwhq#bangtansorciere#bts fanfic#bts scenario#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#bts x reader#seokjin fanfic#seokjin scenario#seokjin smut#seokjin angst#seokjin fluff#jin scenario#jin smut#jin angst#jin fluff#seokjin x reader#jin x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook scenario#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader
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there's hope for us yet - (1/2)
Anakin Skywalker x f!reader
After being overpowered by Baylan Skoll, Ahsoka and the reader find themselves in the World Between Worlds, each confronted with a version of Anakin. The reader meets the Anakin she fell in love with. Or, still loves.
masterlist ▪︎ part two
"Hello, stardust."
Two words. Two simple but poignant words to send you out of orbit. Wherever you are.
You had opened your eyes to an endless picture of the galaxy, stars and planets as far as you can see. Planes of light acting like pathways, one of which you found yourself lying down on.
Then you stood, head light.
And then you hear him.
Anakin.
You swear there is nothing else like it, the sound of his voice which used to be your very anchor.
"Impossible." You whisper, before finally turning around.
There he stands, as real as the last day you saw him. Donning his dark Jedi attire, blonde curls atop his perfect face.
"What did I tell you?" He tsked at you, shaking his head fondly. "Nothing's impossible."
"I'm dead, aren't I?" You take a step closer, as he walks towards you. This must be heaven, you want to add, but that seemed too hopeful. Desperate.
Heaven, after all, would always be with him. Anakin, who was lost after the duel on Mustafar.
"Do you really think that, stardust?" He reaches you, tucking a stray strand behind your ear. "Look around."
So you do. But truth be told, you don't want to look at anything else apart from him.
"Another... realm," you try to figure it out. "You've mentioned this, haven't you? Obi-Wan talked of a realm that encompasses all realms. All of time and space."
Anakin hums in approval, his thumb grazing your cheekbone. "If in here I still have you... then here is all there ever should be."
You feel tears pricking at your eyes, trying hard to fight them off. He swoops in at your rescue, bridging the gap between you two with a searing kiss.
It feels real, you think. And it must be, because how else can it make your entire being ablaze. His lips are softer than your memory serves, the sweet taste of him ingrained like a branding. Ani, Anakin. Your Anakin.
His tongue snakes past your teeth, begging for more. His hand tilts your head back to gain leverage.
"My stardust," he whispers against your skin, when he pulls away to drag his lips on your cheek. When he repeats it, his words take on a different tone. "My stardust. Mine." He nearly growls at the end, the sound of it low and grating in your ear.
The Force shifts. Where you felt uncertainty and hope, now you feel something darker. Something's not right here.
"Where is Ahsoka?"
"That's nothing you should concern yourself with." Anakin steps to your side, one hand toying with your hair. When he is behind you, you feel his breathing on the back of your neck, just imploring you to give in. "What matters is us, stardust."
"This isn't real." You shake your head. "At least, this is not my time, my current path. I have to go back. We have to find Ezra."
"This is real." His arm wraps around your shoulders, pressing your back to his chest. "You wound me, stardust. Do you not want me? Just like this?"
"I can feel you," you step away from him, immediately deflated at the lack of contact, as wrong as it may be. "and you're not really my Anakin, are you?"
He chuckles, low in his chest. There is nothing friendly about the gesture. "I am who I have always been meant to become. This is me. This is the man you love."
"No." You circle each other, akin to predator and prey, and you're not sure which one you are. "The man I love ..." you raise your voice, resolve weakening, "... is dead."
A moment hangs between you, filled with silence, but electrifying all the same. He holds you in his steel blue gaze, and for just a second, you can believe that he is truly yours. His mouth curls up in that familiar smirk, his eyebrows raise toward the center.
Please, he seems to say, this is me. I love you now, as I always have.
But the moment passes, and a gloom casts over his expression.
"Fine," he sneers. "Have it your way, stardust."
And the world falls all around you.
Everything is burning.
The Clone Wars rage at all sides, smoke filling the air and impairing your line of sight.
Anakin was by your side one second, the next he was lost to you in the midst of all the fighting.
You think you can hear him calling your name, but it seems so far away. Your main focus is on the open wound by your ribs, sustained from a blaster shot, staining blood through your white tunic.
You groan due to it all, but the familiarity of the pain somehow dulls the sensation.
I've been here before.
Anakin calls your name, much nearer now, and soon enough he is right in front of you. Face contorted in a mixture of rage and relief.
"Stardust!" He yells. "I told you to stick with me. Why do you never listen?"
"It's not my fault! I was..." Pain shoots through you, bringing you to your knees, and you press your hand against your side. "I was sidetracked by all the..."
"You're hurt. Kriff's sake, stardust. How can you do this me?"
"To you? I'm the one injured here."
He babbles on, inspecting your wound with precise movements. "I don't know what I would do without you. You can't get hurt, do you hear me? I would not be able to fight in these wars. You have to be alright."
His sincerity tugs at your heart, and you reach for his face. He takes a deep breath, pressing his nose against your palm.
"I'll be alright, Ani," you try to calm him down. "Nothing a little bacta spray can't fix."
"Right," he reaches inside his pocket, revealing the spray case. The immediate relief you feel as the solution comes in contact with your wound makes you sigh deeply. "This should tide you over until we get you to a medic."
"Snips alright?" You look around, trying to catch a glimpse of his young Padawan.
"She's alright," he confirms, helping you up with one arm firmly around you. "Worry about yourself for now, okay?"
"Are you alright?" You completely ignore his sentiment, giving him a once over. Well, what are you thinking? Of course he's alright. Anakin can face a thousand belligerents on his own and come out unscathed.
He pauses, a smile encroaching upon his face.
"Oh, stardust." He sighs, moving in front of you, and holding your face with both hands.
An explosion erupts from behind him, billowing fires. The atmosphere is red, an intense haze of destruction looming over the scene. There is screaming from all sides. Cries of attack and defense.
But Anakin only has eyes for you.
"I'll always be okay, as long as I have you by my side."
You remember this moment. You remember how you clammed up, and merely nodded in response. The gloom of battle like an assault to your senses.
Say something. But you can't, because you didn't.
Anakin presses a kiss to your forehead, and your eyes close.
And then he is gone.
I will always be with you, Ani.
But it is too late.
Always.
This is just a two-parter, and the next part will be sad/angsty, so brace yourselves. He is Darth Vader, after all.
update: part two is posted!
#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker#ahsoka#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen imagine
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౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ rainy days
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: nothing, kissing, swearing
a/n: hellooo. so so so sorry for not posting anything, i was on a school trip to rome for a week! brewed this up super quickly, sorry if you can tell it hurried lmao. I LOVE YOUUU ALL
་༘࿐˚⋆ it had been raining constantly the whole day. the gentle patter of rain on the windows created a cozy atmosphere, the dark clouds outside only adding to the feeling of a huge embrace.
most people would find this weather boring or sad, unable to open the windows, or go outside, almost isolating themselves from the outside and social world.
opposite to you, you loved this type of weather. being able to allow yourself to snuggle up inside on either your couch or shared bed with matt, you were far from complaining about anything.
་༘࿐˚⋆ your past week had been frantic to say the least. on top of that it felt like it was never coming to a stop. taking extra shifts, having your amount of rude customers tripled, and your meetings seeming endless. there was nothing more you wanted than going home to your boyfriend and waste away the weekend in each other's arms.
you left the sliding doors to your workplace, running to your car to avoid getting too drenched in the hectic weather. you slouched down in the driver's seat, immediately closing the door before unbuttoning your blazer to throw it in the passenger seat beside you.
it took you a second before you turned on the car, checking to see if any mascara had been smudged, using the tiny mirror in the sun visor of your car.
the drive home wasn’t too bad. your shift had ended late, so the traffic in boston was bearable, but of course not one hundred percent avoidable due to it being a Friday night.
when you arrived in your driveway you didn’t waste a second to grab your blazer and bag, running inside again to avoid the rain soaking you. the door swung open, closing behind you as you entered the hall.
“matt, I’m home! finally,” you yelled, taking off your heels, steadying yourself by grabbing onto the wall.
in a matter of a few seconds, matt entered the hall with a blanket wrapped around him.
for a second you just stared at each other, your tired-looking face instantly lighting up into a toothy grin. matt had never looked this cozy or huggable.
“hi. sorry, i feel asleep, i look like a mess.” matt mumbled, his voice a little deeper than normally, probably due to his current state.
you didn’t answer him because deep down you didn’t mind at all. he looked so adorable. taking a few steps forward you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a tight hug.
“god, i’ve missed you so much,” you whispered into his neck, not planning to let go of him anytime soon.
“what do you mean, i literally saw you this morning?” matt chuckled, fisting his blanket to wrap it around the both of you.
“yeah, but my week has never been this packed. i feel like i haven’t seen you for weeks,” you smile back, even though he couldn’t see it, closing your eyes as you immediately got comfortable from just his touch and presence.
slowly, matt made his way backwards into the living room, careful not to hit any interior, still having his arms and blanket around you.
“don’t worry one bit about it. at least we have the whole weekend to spend together, and then we’ll pray next week is a little different,” matt laughed at his emphasis on ‘pray’, gently removing his arms from around your shoulders to let you sit on the couch.
you collapsed on the couch, immediately throwing your head back in pure exhaustion.
“plus, it’s raining.” matt smiled excitedly, allowing himself to lay his head into your lap.
you couldn’t hold back your smile, his pure excitement from rain making you blush.
“oh god, i love you so much, matt. but don’t get too comfortable, i need to get out of this skirt.” you giggled, holding onto matt’s jaw as he got up with a fake pout, eliciting a laugh from the both of you.
“and- and then chris said i was pining for you, telling me to stop bitching and whining. so then i went home again and fell asleep. and with god’s grace, you walked into the hall,” matt continued to talk about his day, sitting next to you on the couch.
the rain was still pouring outside. occasionally there would be a thunder or lightning strike, but it only added to the atmosphere. not that weather like this was enjoyable, but both you and matt found it extremely comforting.
“seriously? what the fuck, you went to chris’s place to talk about me?” you laughed, taking another sip of your cup of tea.
you were wearing matt’s pajamas since he refused to let you use your own, a huge, heavy blanket resting around you as you and matt continued on with your conversation.
matt just nodded, taking another sip from his cup to hide his reddening face. there was silence for a bit, but it was comfortable.
it didn’t last too long, because in the matter of a second, matt was sprawled out on top of you, making you laugh loudly, attempting to push him off of you but still being gentle with your pushing and kicking.
the night ended cuddled up in your shared bed, the curtains shut but the moonlight shining palely through it. one of your hands were under the covers, holding matt’s, the other resting on his cheek. the storm outside seemed to be endless since you could still hear the comforting patter on the windows.
“i love the rain,” you randomly whisper, brushing a few strands of hair out of matt’s eyes with a smile. he smiled back, pecking your forehead with adoration.
“me too. it’s definitely my favorite type of weather, no doubt.” matt whispered back, still playing with your hair.
you nod, shuffling a bit around to get comfortable under the thick covers, but luckily you weren’t too hot or too cold. matt made sure to hold tightly onto your hand, holding you as if you were gonna slip out of his grip.
“but, i love my boyfriend even more,” you said in a sing-song voice, giggling at his face, attempting to look very confused.
“ohh. i wonder who that could be. i haven’t seen you around with a lot of guys recently?” he tried to hold back a laugh, tapping his chin as if he was deeply philosophizing.
you let out a laugh, making matt drop his act to join in on your laughter. he pulled you even closer, if possible, letting you rest your head into his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head.
safe to say, you fell asleep comfortably. nothing but silence, except matt and your’s silent snoring and of course, the rain.
it was days like this that made up to your week if it had been tough. tea, rain, blankets, boyfriend, movies, cuddles and kisses.
a/n: ughh when is it fall again? i need itttttt
taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lillies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn @sturniolololover @domaniquessidehoe @sturniolossss @orangelala @sturnioloslvtt@gwenloremain@k-l-a-w-s @pearlzier @pjmpcyy @mbsbaby
#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo smut#Spotify
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five times: the one point five.
pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
warnings: none but gossip yet again
word count: 2.9k+
a/n: please do send me a message or comment down if you would like to be added on the succeeding taglists for the five times series! here is 1.5 times with ben. enjoy! thanks loves <3! (also, pls do imagine ben holding a graft rose for this one heh)
five times series: the first time. the one point five. the second time. the third time. the fourth time. at last.
text divider from @heavenlayt and pattern banner from @cafekitsune thank you!
the one point five time.
In the hours of sunlight, callers have flooded the Y/L/N drawing room. All bringing gifts and performances in hopes to win the favourable yes of the season's paragon, Miss Y/N Y/L/N. The grand parlor, adorned with exquisite tapestries and sparkling chandeliers, buzzed with the lively hum of conversations and the tinkling laughter of society’s elite. Lavish bouquets of rare, fragrant flowers filled the room, their heady scent mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed tea and delectable pastries arrayed on silver platters.
Gentlemen, dressed in their finest attire, lined up to present their offerings to Miss Y/L/N, each one more extravagant than the last. Some brought intricate jewelry, glittering with precious stones, while others offered rare books, hoping to appeal to her reputed love of literature. Musicians performed virtuoso pieces on the grand piano, their fingers dancing over the keys in a bid to capture her attention through the power of melody. Poets recited verses composed in her honor, their words dripping with adoration and longing.
Miss Y/L/N, the epitome of grace and poise, received each suitor with a warm smile and a gracious word. Her eyes, sparkling with intelligence and kindness, moved across the room, acknowledging the efforts and intentions of each visitor. Her charm was such that even a simple nod or a softly spoken thank you felt like a cherished treasure to the eager suitors.
The hour had struck past 1 in the afternoon when, hopefully, the last caller of the day had bid his farewells. The Y/L/N drawing room, which had been a whirlwind of activity, now began to settle into a quieter, more contemplative atmosphere. The sunlight streaming through the large windows cast a bright hue over the room, highlighting the opulent furnishings and the array of gifts that had been presented to Miss Y/N Y/L/N throughout the morning.
Servants moved gracefully, clearing away the remnants of the lavish spread of refreshments while ensuring that every detail of the room remained immaculate. The air was still fragrant with the scent of roses, lilies, and other exotic flowers that had been brought by admirers, creating a heady, almost intoxicating environment.
"As much as I do love botanicals, all these flowers have turned obnoxious to my senses, Grandmama," Y/N sighed, feeling the urge to slouch on the couch. Her frame was poised elegantly despite her weariness, a testament to her upbringing and the endless etiquette lessons she had endured.
Her grandmother, the Viscountess Y/L/N, reentered the room with a look of satisfaction mixed with maternal concern. "My dear," she said softly, "you have conducted yourself admirably. The attention you have garnered is truly remarkable, but alas, this be the trials of being the season's paragon," she said with jest. "A small price to pay for such adoration and the opportunities it presents."
Y/N allowed herself a small, rueful smile. "It has been a most eventful day. I do hope I have shown the proper appreciation to each caller." She gently plucked a stray petal from her gown, its soft texture a stark contrast to her current mood.
"Rest assured, my dear, that this too shall pass," her grandmother replied soothingly. "Soon, you will look back on these days with fondness, perhaps even in laughter."
Y/N nodded, though she wasn't entirely convinced. She admired her grandmother's ability to see the positive in any situation. Lady Y/L/N had once been the toast of her own social season, and her wisdom was hard-earned through years of navigating similar waters.
"Would it be terribly improper to open a window, Grandmama?" Y/N asked, her eyes drifting towards the heavy drapes that concealed the afternoon breeze. "I believe a bit of fresh air might revive my spirits."
The Viscountess chuckled softly. "Not at all, my dear. In fact, I think it would do us both good." She motioned to a nearby maid, who quickly moved to pull back the drapes and open the window, allowing a refreshing breeze to sweep into the room. The cool air carried with it the scents of the garden outside, a welcome contrast to the overwhelming floral arrangements within.
Y/N took a deep breath, feeling instantly more at ease. "Thank you, Grandmama. That is much better."
"Now, my dear," Mrs. Y/L/N said, her tone becoming more serious, "while you have a moment of peace, tell me—was there any caller today who truly caught your eye?"
Y/N considered the question carefully. There had been many suitors, each with their own merits. Some had been charming, others earnest, and a few rather boastful. But it was not that she minded all these suitors; it was who she looked forward to that truly occupied her thoughts. It had been this Bridgerton man she'd hoped would be calling on her the entire morning. Unfortunately, he had not been seen yet in this drawing room.
"Y/N, my dear, are you still with us?" Lady Y/L/N's gentle voice broke through her reverie.
"Yes, Grandmama," Y/N replied, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "I was merely thinking."
"About anyone in particular?" her grandmother inquired with a knowing smile.
Y/N hesitated for a moment, then decided there was no point in hiding her thoughts from her perceptive grandmother. "To be quite honest, I was hoping to see Mr. Bridgerton today.. well as of this morn," she admitted. "I fear he may have been otherwise engaged."
"Ah, Mr. Bridgerton," Lady Y/L/N said thoughtfully. "A fine young man, from a respected family. It is no wonder you look forward to his call. Perhaps he will still make an appearance."
Y/N nodded, though she knew the likelihood was slim as the noon wore on. She took another deep breath of the fresh air now circulating through the room, trying to shake off her disappointment. The season was long, and there would be other opportunities to see him again.
"There was Sir Nicholas Deveraeux. He was quite charming," Y/N remarked.
"He comes from a good family as well, but I've heard his uncle," Her grandmother leaned in conspiratorially, "envies the crown."
Y/N laughed at the Viscountess' antics. "Grandmama, that's quite scandalous. Wherever did you hear such a thing?" Y/N laughed.
"Deborah told me," her grandmother said, motioning to her maid. Y/N couldn't help but laugh at the notion of her grandmama indulging in gossip. "But I must tell you, I keep my options open still," she stated matter-of-factly, regaining my composure.
"Even though you are clearly captivated by Mr. Bridgerton's smile," Her grandmother teased. "It is wise to keep your options open, my dear, so as not to appear too eager for any one gentleman's attentions."
"Indeed," Y/N thought to herself, "it is prudent not to seem desperate and helpless this early in the season. After all, the season is just beginning, and there will be many more opportunities for maybe much more meaningful encounters."
The older woman patted the young lady's hand reassuringly. "You are a clever girl, my Y/N. Your charm and grace will surely attract many suitors. Just remember to enjoy the process and not to place all your hopes on one gentleman, no matter how enchanting his smile may be."
Y/N nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. The season was an adventure, and she was ready to embrace it with an open heart and mind. As her grandmama said, there would be many chances to find the right match, and she intends to savor every moment.
Just as she was about to resign herself to the wait, a soft knock sounded at the drawing room door. Both Y/N and her grandmother turned their heads in surprise as the butler entered.
"Forgive the interruption, ma'am," he said with a slight bow. "But there is one more caller who has just arrived."
Y/N's heart skipped a beat as the butler stepped aside, revealing none other than Mr. Bridgerton himself. He stood at the threshold, his confident demeanor softened by a warm, sincere smile.
"Good afternoon, Lady Y/L/N, Miss Y/L/N," he greeted them, bowing respectfully. "I apologize for my tardiness. I hope I am not intruding."
Lady Y/L/N's eyes twinkled with amusement as she replied, "Not at all, Mr. Bridgerton. We are delighted to see you."
Y/N felt her spirits lift instantly, her earlier fatigue forgotten. "Indeed, Mr. Bridgerton," she said, her smile reflecting the genuine pleasure she felt. "Your timing is impeccable."
Mr. Bridgerton's eyes met hers, and for a moment, it felt as though they were the only two people in the room. "I am glad to hear that, Miss Y/L/N," he said. "I have been looking forward to our meeting."
As he stepped further into the room, bringing with him an air of warmth and possibility, Y/N knew that this visit was just the beginning. The season held many uncertainties, but in that moment, with Mr. Bridgerton's presence brightening the drawing room, she felt a renewed sense of hope and excitement for what was to come.
He walked closer, offering his wrapped gift with a warm smile. "I know of your love of botanicals. Although, I wasn't sure what to get, but I opted for a grafted Rosa Falstaff from our estate's own gardens."
Y/N's eyes widened with surprise and delight as she reached out to accept the potted rose. "A Rosa Falstaff? From your family's gardens?" she exclaimed, her fingers gently tracing the leaves and delicate blooms.
"Yes," Benedict nodded, his gaze softening as he watched her reaction. "I thought it would be a fitting addition to your collection, considering your fondness for floriculture."
"Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton. This is truly truly thoughtful of you." Y/N's eyes lit up as she accepted the graft, appreciating the gesture.
Mr. Bridgerton smiled, a hint of relief and pleasure in his eyes. "I'm glad you like them, Miss Y/L/N. I thought something from home might be more personal and meaningful than the usual offerings."
Mrs. Y/L/N, observing the interaction with a pleased expression, decided to give the young couple some space. "If you'll excuse me, I have some correspondence to attend to," she said, rising gracefully. "Please, Mr. Bridgerton, make yourself comfortable."
As her grandmother left the room, Y/N gestured for Mr. Bridgerton to sit beside her on the elegant settee. "It's so refreshing to receive something so genuine," she said, placing the graft gently on the table beside them. "Tell me more about your estate's gardens. They must be quite beautiful."
Mr. Bridgerton settled into the seat, his expression brightening as he began to speak. "Our gardens are indeed a sight to behold, especially in the spring. We have a variety of flowers, from different roses to lavender, and even some more exotic species like that which my mother is particularly fond of. Each section of the garden has its own unique charm and character."
Y/N listened intently, her interest piqued not just by the subject but by the way he spoke with such genuine affection for his home. "It sounds enchanting," she said. "I would love to see it someday."
He smiled, clearly pleased by her response. "I would be honored to show you around Aubrey Hall, Miss Y/L/N. Perhaps you could offer some advice on expanding our collection of botanicals."
"I would be delighted," Y/N replied, her smile matching his. "There are always new species to discover and cultivate. It would be a pleasure to share that with someone who appreciates it as much as I do."
As they continued to talk, the conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on various topics of mutual interest. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them engrossed in their exchange. The connection they felt was palpable, a promising hint of what could be a deep and meaningful relationship.
The noon sun cast a golden glow through the open window, bathing them in warm light. It was as if the world outside had conspired to create the perfect moment, one that Y/N would cherish as the beginning of something truly special.
"Why not a change of scenery, Miss Y/N? May I enchant you to a walk with me this afternoon?" Mr. Bridgerton asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Y/N felt a flutter of excitement at his proposal, though very different from norm indeed. The thought of a leisurely walk, away from the confines of the drawing room and amidst the fresh air and beauty of the outdoors, was undeniably appealing. She glanced at her grandmother, who had discreetly lingered near the doorway.
Mrs. Y/L/N, catching her granddaughter's hopeful expression, gave a subtle nod of approval. "I think that sounds like a splendid idea, Mr. Bridgerton," she said. "A bit of fresh air through my garden will do you both good."
"Thank you, Grandmama," Y/N replied, her smile widening. She turned back to Mr. Bridgerton, her eyes meeting his with a mix of excitement and gratitude. "I would be delighted to join you for a walk."
Mr. Bridgerton offered his arm, which Y/N took with a graceful nod. Together, they made their way out of the drawing room and through the grand halls of the Y/L/N residence. The household staff, now accustomed to the comings and goings of numerous callers, discreetly stepped aside, offering polite smiles as the pair passed.
As they stepped out into the sunlight, the warmth of the afternoon embraced them. The gardens of the Y/L/N estate stretched out before them, a riot of color and fragrance that promised a delightful stroll. Birds chirped melodiously, adding a charming soundtrack to their walk.
"Your gardens are truly beautiful, Miss Y/L/N," Mr. Bridgerton remarked as they began their promenade. "It's easy to see where your love for botanicals comes from."
"Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton," Y/N replied, her gaze sweeping over the well-tended flower beds and neatly trimmed hedges. "I find great joy in spending time here. There's something so peaceful about being surrounded by nature."
They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, taking in the beauty around them. Y/N's lady's maid chaperoning behind. The gravel path crunched softly underfoot, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead.
"I must admit," Mr. Bridgerton said, breaking the silence, "I was quite nervous about coming here today. I wasn't sure if my gift would be well-received."
Y/N looked up at him, surprised. "You needn't have worried," she assured him. "Your gift was one of the most endearing ones I have received. It speaks volumes about your character and your genuine interest. Quite a change in the morn's most fragrant bouquets. All exquisite but a tad bit too much on my senses." I gestured towards my nose.
He smiled, clearly relieved. "I'm glad to hear that, Miss Y/L/N. I hoped to make a meaningful impression."
"You certainly have," she replied warmly. "And now, here we are, enjoying a lovely walk together. It seems your efforts have been rewarded."
As they continued their walk, their conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on topics both serious and lighthearted. They shared stories, laughed together, and discovered common interests. The connection between them grew stronger with each passing moment, the bond of friendship and potential courtship becoming more tangible.
"So, do tell me more about you, Mr. Bridgerton."
"Do call me Benedict, if you please. Provided, of course, that you feel comfortable and we are beyond the earshot of your lady's maid." his eyebrows raise in suggestive jest.
Y/N chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. "Very well, Benedict. You may address me by Y/N as well."
Benedict smiled, clearly pleased by her informal, now more familiar, address. "My days are usually spent at home, but sometimes, I spend my time in my art studio at the academy."
"Yes, you've mentioned of yourself an artist, I remember." Y/N remarked, intrigued. "That is fascinating. What sort of art do you create?"
Benedict's face lit up with enthusiasm as he began to describe his passion. "I work primarily with oils on canvas, though I do enjoy sketching as well. There's something incredibly satisfying about capturing a moment or a feeling in a piece of art. It’s a way to express myself that words sometimes fail to achieve."
Y/N listened intently, her admiration growing. "I would love to see your work someday. It must be wonderful to have such a creative outlet."
"It is," Benedict agreed, a note of pride in his voice. "And I would be honored to show you my studio and some of my pieces. Perhaps I could even paint your portrait, if you would allow me."
Y/N blushed at the thought, a mixture of shyness and excitement. "I would be delighted, Benedict. Though I must warn you, I may not be the most patient of sitters."
Benedict laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I’m sure we would manage just fine. And who knows, you might find the experience enjoyable."
"I look forward to it," Y/N said, her smile reflecting her genuine interest. "But tell me more about your family. I have heard much about the Bridgertons, but I would love to hear it from your perspective."
Benedict's expression softened as he spoke of his family. "We are a large, close-knit group. There are eight of us siblings, and we were all raised with a strong sense of duty and love seeing my late father and mother attend to our household. My mother, Violet, is the heart of our family. She has always encouraged us to pursue our passions and support each other."
"That sounds wonderful," Y/N said, touched by his words. "Family is so important. I imagine it must be lively with so many siblings."
"It certainly is," Benedict replied with a grin. "There is never a dull moment at Bridgerton House. We have our share of disagreements, of course, but we always come together in the end. All the laughter and camaraderie make it worthwhile."
Y/N felt a warm connection forming between them, their shared values and interests creating a bond that felt both natural and exciting. "I would love to meet them all someday, even so now that your brother has found himself a wife. Such exciting things!" she said.
"And they would be delighted to meet you," Benedict assured her. "I can already tell that you would fit right in."
"He thinks of me as someone who would fit with his family? I could feel my heart flutter," Y/N thought, the realization sending a warm, thrilling sensation through her.
As they continued their conversation, the afternoon sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the garden. The hours had slipped away unnoticed, a testament to the ease and enjoyment they found in each other's company.
Eventually the day had struck shy of 3 at afternoon and they made their way back to the main house, the promise of future meetings and shared experiences hanging in the air. As they reached the steps, Benedict turned to Y/N, his expression earnest and hopeful.
"Thank you for a wonderful afternoon, Y/N," he said. "I look forward to our next meeting."
"As do I, Benedict," Y/N replied, her heart full of anticipation. "Until then."
With a final, warm smile, Benedict took his leave, leaving Y/N with a sense of happiness and a fluttering hope for the future. The day had been more than she could have imagined, and she felt a deep sense of gratitude for the connection they had begun to forge.
taglist: @novausstuff @pussyslayerhd @amoosarte
#benedict bridgerton x you#bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton#bridgerton imagine#x reader#fem reader#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton fic#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton x female reader#benedict bridgerton/reader#fic#bridgerton fic#benedict bridgerton oneshot#fanfiction#benedict bridgerton x y/n
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During an interview, the manor guests suddenly get a question about you. (Part 2)
hello hello! here is part 2 as promised. there are less characters than I hoped to write, but in exchange each blurb is a little longer than pt.1 !
part 1 can be found here
🦌🪼🤡🦎🪞🤕🕯️🎭
Q. Could you describe your relationship with (Y/N)?
🦌 Bane rubs his chin, tracing his memory. "Hm... Indeed, I'm familiar with that name. I'd suppose that's someone I knew when I worked for the DeRosses." He crosses his arms with a low, contemplative grunt, as if struggling to remember anything else. "I'd need a photograph." I happen to have a couple on hand, and he takes them gently. A long period of silence follows. After leafing through the photos for some time, he says: "I remember. They were always talking about marriage." With you? "Mm. I was never interested, but I never said no. Eventually I made them a ring from a scrap of iron. I hoped they'd stop visiting me if I satisfied them... It's too dangerous to come to the forest everyday." Then he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a ring of his own. "In exchange, they gave one back." He's been cherishing it all this time, even when he'd forgotten its origin.
🪼 Ivy - "I'm no stranger to feeling like I'm missing my other half, you know. That sense of loss is one of the only constants I have left. (Y/N) fills my emptiness, and without them it increases twofold." I open my mouth to ask, Do you think you could be soulmates? but then my eyes dart to the Yithian and I realize my mistake. Sorry, was that insensitive? Ivy is not amused with my implication that she might be interested in claiming (Y/N)'s soul. "My dear interviewer, I am a scholar, not a monster. Whatever you're insinuating, you're gravely mistaken."
🤡 Joker's face suddenly hardens, in spite of the fragile, twiddling-thumbs demeanor he'd shown me thus far. His hands ball into shaking fists and his lips purse, as if he's psyching himself up for a fight. Are you okay? I ask, preemptively guarding myself with my clipboard. Tears brim his eyes and the strength falls from his shoulders. He mutters out, "All I wanted was to be their sword and shield, their angel of light, and they left me out of my mind. Hahaha... Wanna know the biggest joke of all? I'd let them drive me crazy all over again."
🦎 Luchino's mouth stretches into a lazy grin. "That one's a cutie, eh? Had the pleasure of meeting them yet?" I shake my head, reminding him that (Y/N) is the focus of my current investigation. I guess his laidback attitude fooled me into saying too much. He promptly straightens his back, the smile fading. "Yeah... Yeah, from one researcher to another, I get the intrigue," he says. "But I can't say I fancy another guy using my love as a test subject."
🪞 Mary - "Do you take pleasure in nosing around a lady's private affairs? I'd expect more tact, even for an interviewer." The chill in her tone startles me. I sputter out something in my defense, but Mary huffs and waves me into silence. "(Y/N) is enjoying the privilege of being my right-hand. They're my favorite one so far, too. I dismissed the others without a second thought."
🤕 Naib - "On good terms." Wringing out any insightful answers from this man is tougher than I thought. In hopes of inspiring more of a reaction, I tell a small lie: When I interviewed (Y/N), they described a rather colorful affection for you... Almost immediately, Naib breaks eye contact and crosses his arms. But I still only get a guttural "Hm." in response. Can you confirm if this is true? I press. His answer is, once again, a curt "Hm." (Slightly more affirmative, I would say).
🕯️ Philippe - "My work has always stood as a testament to my love," he caresses the wax figure grafted onto his shoulder, "but shielding someone in life is a far greater challenge than honoring my losses. My worries are endless." Suddenly reminded of his sister's tragedy, I offer a sympathetic smile. Do you believe (Y/N) is in danger? Philippe returns my smile, though I can't make out the intent. "Of course. Evil lurks around every corner. At the very least, it won't reach them while I'm around."
🎭 Sangria - A fond smile graces her face as she recounts her memory. "It was clear to me after some time that I had disastrously entranced them." Then she adds, lightly, "I hadn't meant to, of course. At the time, I thought, I'm not looking for love—no, I'd had enough of it all—but soon, their smile would appear in my mind every time I sang. When someone gives you that much inspiration? You'd be a fool to let them go." She has a playful tone of voice, but I can tell (Y/N) means a great deal to her.
#SORRY FOR THE DELAY 😭 did not mean to disappear for a month oml#identity v#idv x reader#identity v x reader#bane perez x reader#ivy x reader#joker x reader#luchino diruse x reader#mary x reader#naib subedar x reader#philippe x reader#sangria x reader#idv imagines
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if you have the time or inclination, can i ask what the deal with motogp/those boys is about? i don’t mean that in a mean way btw, im just curious and i love drama
i will try to be brief (1/4358)
SO! valentino rossi (born 16 February 1979, aquarius. italian.) is one of the most iconic people in motorsport, CERTAINLY in motogp. he's a 9 time world champion, your favorite driver's favorite driver, and is generally credited with revolutionizing the popularity of the sport by: a. being insanely good at motorcycle racing, and b. in general having a lot of fun about it. lethally charming and charismatic. all time active listening face. just a fun and funny dude that everyone pretty much likes and MANY younger riders idolize. VERY good at handling the media and his legions of cult-like fans. sometimes treated more like a god than a person. i was in the store yesterday and saw one of his themed monster energy drinks despite him retiring two years ago. his fun retirement activity is racing BMWs and running his own motogp team/training facility/cult for young italian racers. (this is where cele and bezz and basically every italian rider not named enea bastianini come from!)
so in 2011ish valentino had won 9 titles, and he decided to leave his current manufacturer and move to italian manufacturer ducati where he generally had a stone-cold terrible time. EXTENDED flop era for a couple years. any time ive watched content that covers this period everyone is so sad. so sad. anyways he GOES BACK to his old manufacturer in 2013 and is much more competitive. kind of just happy to be winning sometimes and be on the podium. 2013 is also where marc comes in. what could go wrong.
marc marquez! (born 17 february 1993, almost exactly 14 years after vale which i'm sure means nothing. also an aquarius. spanish.) childhood sports idols include: dani pedrosa, VALENTINO ROSSI.
marc carved his way up through the feeder championships until casey stoner unexpectedly retired at the end of the 2012 season leaving a seat empty on a VERY good bike for his rookie season. rocked up and was immediately VERY good at winning and very good at being a crazyinsane person on track that made people mad at him lol. hilarious habit of pissing people off via on-track crimes that i really enjoy. motogp riders are already crazy (they do death sport) but marc is famous for taking risks no one else will. basically if he's not winning, he's crashed out or he's maybe crashed YOU out. he wins the championship as a rookie (insane) and the next year's championship as well. heir apparent to the throne. sweet and goofy but is now known as one of the more reserved riders with the press. probably because of all this drama tbh. undisputed GOAT of acting like a slut on camera
throughout 2013-2014, marc and valentino had a good relationship! marc very clearly idolizes him and is like. bowled over completely with delight every time valentino looks his way. vale likes him! theyre buds! truly an endless well of pictures of vale explaining something with his hands and marc babygirling at him. highly recommend checking out @pgaslys every rosquez podium tag for contextual brain damage. insane times.
(IT SHOULD BE NOTED: before the 2015 season marc visits valentino at his practice track in italy, where they compete to break the track record and almost kill each other bc they are so pathologically competitive. APPARENTLY, marc showed up with some official mechanics and valentino was a little pissed off because it was supposed to be a like. fun thing. and to marc winning is the most fun! if you dont come to win why come at all! anyways marc breaks the track record and credits that to cooling their relationship a bit. good post about it here.) here they are that day:
so what could go wrong, right? WELL. valentino has a chance to win his tenth title in 2015. marc is on a flop bike and crashed a bunch so he's not in the championship conversation but vale is leading the standings from the jump, with his main opponent being jorge lorenzo. i think he really wanted that tenth, and dedicated himself to the season in a way he hadnt really ever before (he was a very effortless competitor when he was young. gym-adverse. king).
marc and him start to get into some scraps along the way, notably in argentina (where they made contact and marc crashed out), assen (where they made contact AGAIN and vale won the race), and phillip island (marc won. GREAT race available here for free). phillip island sees vale finishing P4 and jorge lorenzo finishing ahead of him in P3, reducing his championship lead by quite a bit. no real indication of any tension during these races, and they are asked about it!
this is where valentino's delulu era begins! basically, ahead of the next race (🔥🔥SEPANG 2015🔥🔥) in the pre-race press conference, he goes after marc, saying he was deliberately sabotaging valentino in phillip island because marc wanted jorge to win. in valentino's mind. marc wants jorge to win because a. they are both spanish (??) and b. it would mean marc has to win less titles to equal valentino's total. record scratch. freeze frame.
everyone (including marc!) thinks valentino is joking at first bc that is bananascrazyinsane. he was not joking. (it should be noted valentino STILL thinks this lol.) anyways marc is completely blindsided. he thought they were good! yeah they've been chippy on track but that's racing!! truly like. 22 years old and your friend (AND CHILDHOOD IDOL.) is calling you a snake in front of your face with NO prior warning to the entire motogp establishment writ large including your coworkers and REPORTERS. valentino wont even look at him the entire time. the press conference is available here on vimeo. excruciating gifsets of marc's very stiff bewildered PR smile found here.
anyways so. the race. marc is uh. pissed off. he's stuck to valentino like GLUE the entire time and they trade places a bunch of times. now marc is kind of famous for being a little asshole on track anyways, but its not like he's gonna get out of valentino's way and just let him pass after what he said in that press conference so. hand in unlovable hand <3. truly very fun to watch imo even with the sword of damocles hanging over them. marc is fucking on one the entire race and basically refuses to give valentino an inch until vale gets so fed up with his antics that um. well. it certainly looks like he kicked him. vale says he didnt, and that his leg accidently made contact with marc's bike. marcs says. he fucking kicked me. judge for yourself here!
so valentino gets hauled in front of race direction and penalized for the next race (the deciding race for the championship). he has to start from the back of the grid and it kills his chance at a tenth title stone dead. vale places the blame squarely on marc's shoulders and his legions of fans decide marc is public enemy number 1. him and jorge have to get security at the next race because of death threats, someone tries to break into marc's childhood home back in spain, marc's mom throws away all of marc's valentino merchandise from when he was a kid. vale says nothing.
but the thing about marc. is that he loves very hard and chooses his people pretty carefully. didnt really move out of his tiny hometown until he turned 30 and also made his baby brother move in with him kind of guy. so all this is not really enough for him to let go of vale entirely! 2016 is where the pain lives! bc marc is still reaching out and vale himself stays pretty cold for a couple years. they seem to faintly reconcile for a bit but its not anywhere like it was before sepang.
the real nail in the coffin is argentina 2018. another insane race where marc has to start from the back and goes on a rampage through the field and crashes out like three people. i cant remember. this race is also available on youtube for free its very entertaining. every five minutes marc does something insane. vale is one of the people marc crashes out and afterwardshe goes on a big rant about how marc is destroying the sport and is actively dangerous. marc goes to valentino's garage immediately after the race to apologize and vale doesnt even look at him. he gets turned away at the door after vale's best friend/assistant/henchman yells in his face1!!! and thats kind off all she wrote in terms of reconciliation
anyways that's where we are! they are both very much not over it. vale goes on podcasts and is like. in 30 years i will still be mad, im literally never going to get over it it was such a big and unfair thing and i think about it all the time like it was yesterday. and marc (lying) says as time goes by i dont even think about it :) and i care about valentino less and less :))) but yes he hurt me deeply lol. CANNOT stress enough how much this entire thing is now inextricably liked to both of their legacies. the two arguable GOATs of a sport had an epic fleetwood mac-style beatles breakup divorce and everyone wants to talk about it allllll day long including me :)
additional context! really recommend checking out marc's little docuseries he put out this year about his recent struggles with injury. he is so not right in the head and it goes over the valentino drama in ep3. theres also hitting the apex (2015) which goes over the 2013 season (marc's rookie season) and is a really good introduction to all the major players at the time. its like less than 2 hrs long so its not too much of a commitment
also recommend following scholars @babynflames, @its-always-silly-season, @baking-soda, and @f1vegas as well as many others im forgetting rn bc its 2am!
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