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slttygeto · 7 months

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SO, YOU GOT A BOYFRIEND? | GETO S.

synopsis: when watching a certain scary movie gives your husband, suguru, the perfect idea on how to ruin you.

c.w: p0rn with plot, fem!reader, reader is referred to as “good girl” “pretty girl”, mask kink (hehe<3), slight fear play, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, suguru talks you through it, praise kink, strength kink if you squint, im obsessed with suguru's arms, clit smack, multiple orgasms.

word count: 2,1k

note: i am BRICKED after writing this. happy halloween hehe.

ghostface suguru! ( @aurelianamu )

In a dimly lit room, at around 10PM—it was a bit cold outside, the perfect weather to snuggle up and watch some movies. Romance movies? No, you did that last week. Action movie? Eh, you were not in the mood for that—oh, Scream. Your thumb presses on the movie before you put the remote control down and walk towards the kitchen to grab some snacks.

“Sugu, I picked a movie!” you announce as you make your way out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and two drinks. Your husband marches down the stairs in a lazy manner, his long strands messily sticking out of his ponytail that he has to stop and tie it up again. He sees what movie you picked and he stands behind you on the couch.

“Scream?” he questions, hands resting on your shoulders.

“First movie, pretty iconic.”

“I don’t think it’s that scary though,” he doesn’t really say that he would rather watch something else, simply joins you on the couch and pulls you towards him with the bowl of popcorn resting on your lap.

The movie is indeed not that scary, you kept quoting some of the lines here and there, which earned you a chuckle from Suguru every time.

“No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I wanna be in the sequel,” you say in the same voice and attitude and your husband runs a hand through your hair.

“I think you’d easily outsmart him,” your husband is very supportive of you, but instead of making fun of his statement, your heart thrums in your chest when you picture Suguru in the ghostface mask.

“Really?” you look up at him through your eyelashes but Suguru is staring ahead and doesn’t notice the eyes you’re giving him.

“Yeah, they’re all pretty stupid—minus Sidney, I mean the fact that—“ your husband goes on a three minute ramble about the plot, how he appreciates the intelligence of the main character all while saying that the choice of the ghostface killers was nice. Unbeknownst to him, you were thinking of something else. Something far dirtier than intended.

“Baby,” you cut him off from his ramble and he hums in response.

“You’d be pretty hot as ghostface.” Suguru looks down on you when you say that and raises both eyebrows knowingly.

“Are you insinuating something?” To which you shrug your shoulders before staring back at the big screen in your living room, playing innocent.

“Just saying.”

You weren’t just saying, you knew exactly what you were doing. The next day, you’re sat on your bed folding laundry while watching the newest episode to your favorite podcast. You liked keeping your brain stimulated, and it distracted you from the fact that your husband was always gone for long hours during the day. But when you hear the keys rustling and the front door opening, you raise an eyebrow but don’t question it. Today’s mission must’ve been quick, you think to yourself.

“Welcome home!” you call out from your bedroom but don’t bother to get up, you knew he would come to your bedroom immediately so you keep your eyes on your computer and go back to folding the laundry.

A couple of minutes pass and Suguru doesn’t walk inside the bedroom, so you start getting a little suspicious and decide to go check on him.

“Sugu?” you walk out of the bedroom and notice how the lights downstairs are turned off. You remember leaving them on for him, so he must’ve turned them off on his way upstairs—but where was he?

“Baby, are you in the shower?” the lights in the bathroom were on but the door was closed. Suguru never walked to the bathroom first without greeting you—unless something was wrong. You put your hand on the door handle, but before you could twist the knob, a warm and rough hand covers your mouth and your blood runs cold when you’re being pulled into a different room.

You don’t have time to scream or panic, because when you’re being pinned to the wall by a rather familiar set of hands, your eyes almost bulge out of your skull when you notice the ghostface mask. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks flushed but there’s no sign of panic because you know who this is—the dragon tattoo peeking out of his shirt and the wedding band on his ring finger are enough evidence.

“Do you like scary movies?” Suguru’s voice sounds silky smooth, but the flirting connotation to it has your heart leaping out of your chest.

“Sugu—“

“Wrong,” he pins both hands above your head and his body is so close to yours that you feel the heat radiating off of it. “Let’s try again, I know my girl is smart.”

Your breath is caught in your throat, but you play along and nod sheepishly.

“Do you like scary movies?”

“Mhm,”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He traces a finger over your cheek, and the arousal slowly starts pooling between your legs.

“Hm, I don’t know,” you reply in a similar flirtatious tone, nervousness long gone. The realization that you didn’t have to explicitly tell your husband about the ghostface mask and him buying it for your pleasure made all of this very thrilling.

“You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“Hm, Halloween,” you stick to the same script of the movie, you buck your hips towards him but he pushes a knee between your legs and pins you again to the wall. “Y’know, the one with the guy with the white mask that walks around and stalks baby sitters?”

“Yeah,” Suguru breathes out and takes in how gorgeous you look like this—how he should’ve thought of doing this a long time ago. Your eyes were blown out with lust, chest heaving in excitement all while allowing him to play with you like this. He could feel his pants tighten and his cock was slowly getting hard from knowing exactly what was coming.

“What’s yours?” you bring him out of his thoughts and although you can’t see his face, you know that he was giving you that signature charming smile that always won over your heart.

“Guess.” He purrs out and you subconsciously start grinding against his knee before giving him a reply.

“Nightmare on Elm Street,”

“Wrong,” Suguru goes off script and your lips part for a moment. You’re about to complain, tell him that this wasn’t in the movie—he lets go of your wrists and throws you over his shoulder, delivering a harsh smack to your ass, his rough hand kneads the skin as he makes his way towards your bedroom.

“Better luck next time,” he throws you on the bed and you let out a gasp when your back hits the mattress. You try to sit up, but your husband grabs your ankles and pulls you down towards the end of the bed. “Now let’s see just how fucking filthy you are,”

He parts your legs with his big hands covering the plush skin of your thighs, and you whine out when he removes your shorts to reveal your panties that had an obvious wet patch on them.

“Fuuuck,” he breathes out and lifts up the mask enough for his mouth and nose to be visible. He presses his nose against your panties and takes a whiff of your arousal, the sight is obscene and your face turns red at how pussy drunk he sounds. “Fuck, fuck—should’ve done this sooner baby, you smell so fucking good,” he gives your pussy a kiss through the fabric of your panties before his fingers remove them so messily that you let out a startled noise.

Suguru dives in between your legs and the wet sounds are dirty and make you feel even more turned on. His tongue laps at your clit, fingers pulling the hood back before spitting on it and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he sucks. Two of his thick fingers prod at your entrance, gathering some of the slick that’s pooled there before pushing a single finger inside.

“Thaaaat’s it, good girl,” he breathes out against your clit before giving it a kiss as he pushes the second finger inside. “Yeah, this pussy loves being stuffed by me—fuck, you’re so wet for me. All because of this mask baby girl?” his tone is playful but you’re far too gone to complain and just mindlessly nod.

“So drunk off of me and I haven’t even given you my cock,” he pumps his fingers in and out of you all while curling them to find that one spot inside you. He licks, sucks and spits on your clit with so much passion and when he finds that one spot, you let him know pretty quickly.

“Oh!” you gasp and your thighs shake. “S-Suguru, oh fuck--!” his wrist is burning as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, and the veins in his forearm are bulging out from the sheer strength he is using to finger fuck you until you see white. His free hand comes down and presses against your stomach to apply pressure and keep you pinned down.

You make the mistake of opening your eyes to stare at him. His hand is covered in your arousal, but what truly pushes you over the edge is the fact that his mask had come down and was covering his face entirely. So when he decides to talk you through it, give you that one final push—the ghostface mask seems to intensify the orgasm tenfold.

“I know you’re a good girl, but I’m gonna need you to get dirty for me baby—there it is, theeere it is,” he sounds proud when you finally cum, and you’re loud. You whine and let out soft cries, your hands weakly push at his arm when he keeps fingering you through your orgasm.

“Suguru—too much!” you cry out and gasp when he pulls his fingers out of your soaking pussy to slap your clit.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he quickly starts to unbuckle his belt and pushes his pants enough to free his cock. The tip nudges at your folds and your husband hovers over you with his lean stature. Big broad shoulders cover your entire frame and you’re fucked out from your previous orgasm.

“I’m going in baby, let me in,” your legs spread instinctively to welcome him inside of you and you groan when you feel the sheer size of him inside you. Your hands grip at the back of his shirt, but Suguru holds himself up on his forearms so that you look at his mask.

“Yeah, that’s right—look at me baby, filthy fucking girl,” his strokes were slow but hard. His hands grab at the back of your thighs and push them before fucking into you harder. “You like it, huh?” you couldn’t even give a proper response, only mindlessly nodding when you could feel him even deeper inside you.

He pushes your knees to your chest before setting a dizzying pace. You feel so full of him, so full of his thick cock and Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head behind his mask every time he felt your pussy squeeze around him. His finger rubs at your clit the same way that you’ve shown him you like it, and the tip of his cock repeatedly nudges against that one spot that has you falling apart underneath him with a loud cry.

Your orgasm hits you hard and Suguru can’t hold it in any longer—he fucks into you for another minute, head buried in your neck as he groans out your name. Your pussy milks him dry, and he fills you up to the brim—to the point where you could feel him leak out of you.

You lay there breathing heavily, and you weakly reach for the ghostface mask and remove it off of your husband to reveal his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. He looks gorgeous like that, and you lock eyes for the first time since the entire night and you’re immediately pulled in towards one another.

Suguru kisses you with so much passion, dick still buried deep inside you and your legs stay wrapped around him as you two make out heavily under your sheets that stuck to your sweaty bodies. You pull away for a moment to kiss his forehead and Suguru closes his eyes as he melts at your touch.

“Thank you for that,” you say, so love struck that the man can’t help but chuckle at how breathless you sound.

“Let’s do it again, yeah?”

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

—💭 if you like this, leave a tip!

#moon's works #yoooou're deaaaad and burieddd darling--AND BRICKED HELLO?#enjoy this because I did too #ghostface suguru my love #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto smut #geto x reader smut #jjk geto #jjk smut #jjk geto suguru #suguru geto smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut

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shotmrmiller · 23 days

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now im thinking about how you're technically johnny's wife of convenience but now also simon's girlfriend.

like maybe you're crazy but you do remember johnny telling you that you can see other people, just don't bring them home. but every time you try to, simon is there.

something always suspiciously happens when you're out, conveniently forcing you to cut the date short, and the one that picks you up is simon. he doesn't even let you walk yourself out either. he'll already be at your table, putting your phone and wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. and what's worse, with the one guy who didn't mind, the one who had asked for a raincheck, simon told him that you have a husband at home waiting for them with a warm dinner.

he chuckles under his breath at the guy's reaction— ashen face, wide eyes, and gaping mouth. "don't know what ya saw in tha' bloke anyway. he didn't even cover the bill." because simon stared at him until he skittered out the front door without a backward glance.

and then their dates. they're supposed to be a couple; you're just a front, so why do they keep taking you with them as a third wheel. is it an exhibitionist kink? because that's what it feels like every time they're together. it's all sloppy kisses, grabby hands and you swear that if you hadn't spun around and briskly walked away that one lazy saturday simon was home, they would've probably let you watch them fuck each other stupid on the living room carpet.

it's also hard to bring it up to johnny because either simon's there, leaning on the kitchen island with his arms crossed as he watches you exist, or is taking up far too much space on the couch so that if you want to sit there and watch the telly, you're obligated to press up against his massive thigh. (manspreading, simon? really? truly?) or you can't look him in the eye after listening to the headboard repeatedly slam against the wall all night. you can still hear johnny's moans curling around the edges of your very conscious.

then, you meet the rest of the 141: a tall, broad bear of a man with the ocean in his eyes and an iconic mutton chop beard. john price, he'd rumbled as he shook your hand. and then the other one, a devastatingly pretty man with chocolate-brown eyes, a small scar on his cheek, and perfect, white teeth. kyle, the boys call me gaz. a pleasure. he'd grabbed your hand with both of his as he also shook it.

johnny doesn't stick around, excusing himself quickly as he takes a phone call but simon does. he stands directly behind you— a suffocating presence a silent guardian— so close you can feel his body warmth on the expanse of your back.

little close there, eh simon?

no' at all, boss.

once he starts showing up at your college with lunch, you feel like your patience is dangling by a fragile, whisper-thin thread so you confront him directly.

only to have him shut you down in seconds.

what's johnny's is mine. now sit, i know ya didn't eat breakfast this mornin'.

at least he brought you your favorite meal:}

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader

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screampied · 4 months

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TO THE NIGHT WE MET.

summary. you and nanami watch the ball drop together to end the year with a good start. funny how even the sweetest moments can feel so…surreal.

wc. 1.7k

tags. gn!reader, fluff in the beginning, angst-ish, just nanami being an affectionate husband, calls reader sweetheart + dear.

“sweetheart, ‘s almost midnight.” nanami would mutter is the sweetest voice. you’re in the kitchen and he’s sat lazily manspread near the living room. nice and cozy on the leather comforter before he rubs a hand against his thigh, ushering you to come join him.

“okay.” you’d hum, making your way towards him, and a soft smile presses against his lips. he could never find the right words to describe how he felt whenever he’d just stare and gawk at you. you made his heart fill with love, so much of it.

the tv was on, and playing on the flat screen was the iconic ball drop. it was being broadcasted live, with just a few minutes to spare.

you made yourself cushy and snug against his lap. he wraps an arm around you before pulling you close towards him, snaking his fingers alongside your waist before resting his chin near your shoulder, he exhales a soft sigh before mumbling against your ear. “gonna be another year with you by my side. ‘m so lucky..”

“i’m luckier,” you teased, hearing his chest jostle a bit against you, his body language letting you know that he was laughing, a sweet playful guffaw.

“i’m luckiest, my dear,” he whispers—softly ghosting his fingers along inside down the nape of your neck, gently brushing a thumb against some strands of your hair as the two of you had your eyes averted towards the screen. “told ya.”

“pft.” you scoff with a subtle eye roll.

nanami hums to himself, knowing he’d always get the last word, finding your bitter yet teasing frustration to be nothing but simply…adorable, that was the word.

currently, nothing major was happening.

just a few well known bands performing before the ball would drop. currently plastered on the screen in a bright neon timer it read 11:56 P.M. nanami continued to hold you in his arms, your back pressed against his chest as if you didn’t have a single care in the world.

because well, you didn’t.

every moment you spent with nanami, you wanted to savor and cherish every moment. every second — every sixty seconds that hung onto every minute. simply because you never realized how quick time would speed by whenever you two would do something as simple as talking.

just rambling and rambling about nothings, about your day, his day, or nanami just showering you with compliments, he’s your husband after all.

just hearing the calmness of your voice was enough to put him at ease. to put all his irksome worries to rest, a deep and utter slumber.

“before we leave this year behind, sweetheart,” he mutters against your ear, and you feel him reaching towards the side of the couch to grab something. “i got you a little gift.”

“kento…” you start to object, turning around to face him, still propped up against his lap, just barely.

he smiles, bringing a hand towards your face before stroking your chin, placing the gift into your hand.

it was a pretty medium-sized box, a bit of weight onto it and he chuckles, “i know. ‘s not really a special occasion like your birthday or anything but i jus’ wanted to give you something you wanted since i had no time to get you anything for christmas. work was—”

“i…i can’t even get mad.” you sigh, eyebrows narrowly furrowing together. you pull him into a brief hug and he guffaws, at your tight grip your arms have as they lock around him tightly. his hands gently rub against your back, tenderly.

nanami smelled so good too, a strong mixture of cologne, but he always made sure to wear the ones that you liked. he was always so fond of letting you even pick them out for him to wear. you nuzzle your head against his chest a bit before murmuring a soft, “thank you.”

“eh, shouldn’t you thank me after you open it? if anything, the box could be empty, dear.”

he grins at the tiny pout-like scowl tugging against your lips before he playfully boops your nose, intently staring into your eyes before happily sighing. “oh, quit it. ‘m only teasing. go ahead. hurry and unwrap it. think you’ll really like it.”

you give him a quick glance, a cute frisky scowl on your lips before you look down to yourself with an almost hidden smile. digging your nails and starting to unravel the bright silvery wrapping paper — you could only imagine what this particular gift was.

a few good seconds later, your hands run across to what feels like a hefty base, your fingers trace around the material of layers and grain, before it stops against a circular lens.

“you...you remembered?”

“you did always say how much you wanted a new polaraoid,” nanami starts, tilting his head with a soft simper. such kind eyes staring into yours, not once departing. “which was like all the time, but i made sure to save up for you, sweetheart. now you can take as many pretty pictures you want.”

you start to feel a sudden throb in your chest, the more you stared at nanami — holding the newly unwrapped camera in your hand, thumbs swiping against it, an imaginary lump randomly getting caught in your throat to where you find it hard to voice out a reply and then he breaks the silence.

“ah, they’re starting the countdown. c’mere…”

you cleared your throat, somewhat helping the strange tears that nearly made its way to trickle down your eyes from his sweet efforts at giving you a present on new years.

the scenery was so pretty, crowds of people in puffercoats. balloons and lots of confetti everywhere decorating and flying amongst the sky from the wind.

humming and singing along to the jams and tunes before getting a bit quiet once the reporter announced it was time to start the infamous countdown.

“alright everyone, ten….nine….eight…seven….”

you hugged nanami’s waist, the both of you counting down together with the screen, he smiles at your grip. nanami ghosts his fingers against your back as a soothing method, before the continue.

“six…five…four…three…two…one…”

and the both of you watch as the pretty glistening ball that was slow drops near the colored bright lights of the new year display upon the tower. it was so heavenly to witness. you could only imagine what it’d be like to see the ball drop in person with nanami. perhaps another year though.

“happy new year, sweetheart.” he hums, breaking you away from your thoughts. he makes you face him with a swift finger or two—bringing your chin to look up at him before bringing you into a sweet and passionate kiss.

your eyes fluttered before closing, planting your hands down against his broad shoulders, you returned the kiss with such passion. a teeny smile could be felt against nanami’s lips as he pressed his mouth against yours — he was so sweet and precise, gently raising your head up just a bit.

the music of the tv played in the background, every saying their goodbyes and happy new years, and it’s a good minute before nanami pulls away — and, it’s an understatement to say that he’s just a little flustered.

“first kiss of the year. we should take a picture to remember this by,” and then he playfully runs a hand down his hair, speaking in a near gruff tone. “perhaps even make this a little tradition?”

“how should we pose?” you shyly say, making him sit back down against the couch—and he’s all snuggled up against you, a arm slinging around your waist as you turned the polaroid camera backwards so the lens could face the both of you.

nanami shrugs before raising his brows. “you can always um.. kiss my cheek, my dear.”

“okay.” you giggle.

you position yourself and nanami to a good enough angle for the camera to reach. with a swift few clicks of your thumb, you toggle the button towards the option to snap a picture and within three seconds—you quickly scoot in to press a soft kiss against his cheek, he flashes a cute grin and click.

within a few seconds, the picture exits out of the camera, yet it’s not developed.

“i bet we look great.” he hums, lightly moving you close towards his chest to plant a chaste kiss against the tip of your forehead.

and nanami was right. the both of you did. you both looked so happy, so full of joy, yet most importantly, so full of love. so full of attachment, need, and just…love. the way you were nestled up against nanami, your lips gently pressed against the right side of his cheek.

nanami’s right eye was open — his other eye was closed, a subtle wink at the camera, he always knew how to charm.

although after about a good fifteen minutes, the picture finished developing. actually, it’s been developed.

for years now.

it was the start of a new year again, and you decided to treat yourself on a nice vacation. to clear your head, take some time to yourself and all. you still had your camera. it’s stuck with you ever since.

malaysia, it was so pretty.

“he would have loved it here.” you sighed, slipping your fingers into your wallet to find that polaroid picture from those few years ago. you frowned a bit at the sight of it starting to develop a bit of crinkles but it was still in good condition.

your eyes stared down at the picture, of you kissing nanami on the cheek, him winking with an arm locked around your waist, and you could just hear his chuckle and his voice. “did you take the picture yet, sweetheart?”

the more you stared to reminisce, the more you sniffled. you didn’t wanna come to the bitter realization—the truth that you were still in grieve. nanami wasn’t here with you in malaysia simply because he was…gone.

it was a touch pill to swallow, but he went out people. that put you at somewhat of ease, right?

no it didn’t.

a sigh left your mouth as you brought your fingers up towards your face to wipe your incoming tears, the various droplets that suddenly fell onto the nearly crumbled up polaroid of your one and only loved, nanami kento.

“happy…happy new year, kento. i’ll make sure to take lots of pictures in malaysia. just for you. i love you..”

#★vegasbaby.#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #nanami angst #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fic #jjk drabbles #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk angst

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asimpforyagami · 21 days

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🇸 🇮 🇹 🇴 🇳 🇮 🇹 !

BSD MEN REACTING TO YOU ASKING TO SIT ON THEIR FACE.

↷ A/N ─ i love writing these lmk if yall like reading these by liking :D

★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , fyodor

!! TAGS ─ f!reader, face-sitting, 69, cunnilingus

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

"can i sit on your face?"

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.

yes yes and YES

you've never seen this man more excited

to think that you were the one who suggested it between you two!

we all know he's a freak

and a master pussy muncher

man's throbbing just hearing those 6 words from your mouth lmaoo

"Aw, would you look at that? This is the third time you've come, bella. Wanna squirt next?" he mocks from under you. "No complaints accepted. You were the one who suggested this."

ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.

chokes on his expensive ass wine (iconic)

turns his neck towards you so fast you think he might've snapped it

just stares at you flustered and blushing slightly

stares

still staring

YANKS you and THROWS you onto the bed. yea man, that's defo leaving marks. but its chuuya saurrr 🤷🏻‍♀️

"Guess you really aren't as innocent as I thought you were, eh?" he says teasingly. "My, my, you're on top, yet you're the one dumbfucked. And I haven't even started yet!"

ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.

rolls his eyes LMFAO

him? abandoning his snacks?? as if

"what's in it for me huh?"

will only accept it if you agree to the 69 position so he gets something in return (man's a giver-taker)

eats you out and takes 2-3 second breaks in between for commentary to update you about how you taste and if it really was worth putting his candy stash down for you

"You think you're sweeter than my candies? Wanna bet?" he raises an eyebrow. "I mean, I already know the answer - you know, the greatest detective in the world and all that. But I'll give you a chance to prove yourself."

ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.

he will choke and die so WHY are you suggesting it /j

lets pretend for a moment that he WONT choke and die from the gorgeousness of your ass (love yourself !!)

he's a bit grossed out at the thought. just virgin things ig /j

if he somehow (and idk how) agrees, he'll grip your hips and place you down on his face gently like really really slowly

to the point where you grow impatient and shift so you can toy with his cock

and then that man just snaps and 🤭

"You like that? Is that right? You want more?" he glares at your pussy, heart nearly bursting out of his chest when he hears you pant 'Yes, yes, I love it.'

"Hm. I guess it's okay then."

ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.

DISGUSTED.

first off how tf is his tired ass anemic body supposed to hold your weight and not die

secondly you're messing with his religious faith!! stop trying to tempt him, satan!

you have to convince him. seduce him on the ultra pro iphone 15 max level.

will ask for a 69 position because ain't no way he's eating you out without getting a bj in return

"Really, now? You're forgetting your part of the deal?" he pats your ass impatiently, your body limp from pleasure and thus unable to give him head in the position. "I guess I'll have to do it myself then."

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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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Listen, I know it’s not my usual thing, but I just re-read Dark Matter by mysterycyclone (iconic, so good, incredible, I’ve reread this at least ten times) and this newer work, Help Me, I Don’t Feel Like Myself Anymore by Astra_Nova_Kat (it’s off to a really good and fleshed out, very long start- it’s like 20k for the first chapter omg).

I just. Love?? Them??? They’re both, urg, so good. The writing style, the way the story moves, the natural progression of plot and their usage of tropes are so well done that rarely does it feel awkward. Amazing. Anyways, they inspired me to put my two cents into the proverbial offering hat and while this might not ever be a realized fanfic, here it is? This will have multiple parts.

Uh, I’m basing Peter’s personality off of the really tired millennial energy Tobey Maguire gives, the awkward but well meaning disaster vibes of Andrew Garfield, and the sassy acrobatic chaos gremlin of Tom Holland. All kind of mushed together with the hyper competence and maturity of both the PS4 spidey and pretty much most spider people. He’s 22, or something but that doesn’t really matter?? Background doesn’t really matter because I’m basically making my own spider-verse. Spider… past? Eh. New Peter!

Spider in Gotham AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2]

——

Spider-Man swung through the skyscrapers of his city, enjoying the winds and sounds of New York as he kept a sharp eye out for crime.

He remembered doing this without any of the fancy tech his suit had now, when he was dressed in less protective clothing. God, 100% cotton while crime fighting? The spandex was better but god ugly.

His spider-sense blared. Spider-man quickly shot a web to the top of the building, going towards the danger instead of away from it.

He goes in feet first, years of knocking common thugs to legitimate gods to the ground making short work of the people on the roof top. He flips out of the way, dodging a blast of crackling green energy.

“Heyyyy, common robbers! What’s up with shiny lasers, huh? Breaking and entering not doing enough for ya?”

Spider-Man dodges a couple more shots, flipping again to knee a guy in the face, gently. The man goes down in one shot.

“Stay still, you motherfucker!”

“Does that actually work for you guys?? Like I’m down to get killed but, man, I’m not gonna stay still to get downed by some two bit thugs?” Spider-Man kept his words light and mocking, webbing up a laser gun and yanking it out of the woman’s hands. He punches her in the face and knocks her out, using the laser gun like a mildly bulky baton.

“Eat shit, Spider-bitch!”

“Ouch! Oh no, my feelings! You’ve hurt them!” Spider-Man shoots a web at the lady who’d shouted and yanked, before smacking her straight down to the concrete of the rooftop. His hearing picked up two people coming up the stairway and Spider-Man tossed two web bombs, the metal mechanism attached itself to the wall, waiting for their unknowing victims.

Spider-Man ducked and weaved, downing goons as they piled on him while shooting bullets, lasers, and just charging at him with a bat or a crowbar. After eight years of pretty much this exact thing, Spider-Man had gotten the science of breaking up goon dog piles without hurting them too much to an exact measurement. He quipped at them until they got annoyed, which made them sloppy. Spider-Man sighed as another guy came at him with a crow bar and a gun that he was pretty sure was still stuck on safety. He crouched, kicking out their legs and dodging a swipe of a bat where his ribs would have been and webbed the guy to the floor. Yeah, he’ll wrap this up and end patrol. Maybe he still had Mac n’ Cheese at home, or he could stop by Angelo’s for a sub?

Huh. His options for dinner was limited.

“Take this!”

Even without the forewarning of his spidey-sense, Spider-Man would have ducked out of the way regardless.

“Shouting your sneak attacks isn’t actually all that sneaky, you know!” Spider-Man kept his voice cheery and mocking.

“Get him!”

God, why were there so many people trying to break into an insurance company? This definitely doesn’t smell like a regular B&E. With the shit he’s seen in New York, if it smells like a plot, acts like a plot, then it’s probably a villain with a tragic backstory with big, annoying plans.

Great.

Oh, speak of the devil!

“Spider-Man.” His senses blared.

He couldn’t move out of the way fast enough, not without risking the life of the goon he was currently fighting, so Spider-Man took the blast the punched the breath out of his lungs. The wide eyes of the goon made up for some of the pain.

“Ugh!” Spider-Man slammed into an HVAC, denting the metal. His suit, made special polymer blend from Wakanda that he saved for months to get, absorbed some of the shock. Shit, he hoped it didn’t tear. It would be a bitch and a half to dip into the back up stock he had in his hammer space.

The goons left standing quickly rushed him and held him down to face the new boss.

“You’ve been getting on my nerves, Spider.”

“Yeah,” Spider-Man coughed out, letting the two goons think they could hold him down on his knees as he recovered his breath. “I have that effect on people.”

“But you could be an asset, if you’d join me?”

“Uh, I don’t join or sign things without knowing what I’m joining or signing, my guy. My lawyer said so.”

The villain paused, helmeted head cocking to the side.

“You have a lawyer?”

“Yeah. Kind of? He does pro-bono work for the helpless cases. You know, like, a well meaning, crime fighting vigilante?”

“…Does he do cases against insurance companies?”

“Oh man, you too? Dude, this place sucks,” Spider-Man sighed.

“You��ve had trouble too? Then you must see why I’m doing this!”

This was a bit weird, but if there’s anything that brings people together, it’d be corrupt insurance companies. He’s almost tempted to let them break in, just to be extra petty.

“Nah, my neighbor? Sweet old lady. They’re screwing her out of her entire place. I totally get it, man. Hey, if you need a referral, you can tell my lawyer that Spider sent you. He’s real good.”

“How good?” The goons release him and Spider-Man stood up, stretching his limbs.

“Like, Dare Devil good.”

“You know Matt Murdock??”

“Sure do.”

“He… he’ll take on our cases?”

“Dang, all of you?”

“Yes. We can pool enough money to pay him for one or two.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he’ll take you guys on for free. But it wouldn’t hurt if you all went to meet him, just so he can decide which one of you has a higher chance to win in court?”

“We will. Uh.” The villain paused sheepishly. Well, not a villain, more like an unfortunately angry and poor decision making citizen. “Sorry about… you know, the blast.”

“It’s cool. I mean,” Spider-Man gestured to the rooftop, the bodies of unconscious people kind of laying around where he knocked them down. “You guys might wanna check on them, yeah? I’ll let you go for now, but if you commit a B&E again, I’ll leave you webbed up for GCPD to find.”

“Got it. Sorry.”

Feeling good about himself, and plotting corporate espionage, Spider-Man went to help pry some people from his webs.

And of course, because Parker Luck kicks in only when Spider-Man felt like life was looking up for himself, Spider-Man’s senses blared once more as he knelt down to pull at some webbing.

“Oh, shit!” He heard, right before a cold blast of something slammed right into his head, knocking him out.

And Spider-Man

——

Larry looked at the the empty space where Spider-Man, the guy who took a hit from his boss’ blaster so he wouldn’t get hurt, used to be.

He twisted.

“Boss, what the fuck?!”

“Shit! That was accident!” Boss pulled herself up from the concrete, where she just ate dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Larry! That was the experimental warped mode! Crap!” His boss scrambled with the controls, desperately trying to see if the magic gun her magician friend had handed her years ago had a reverse button. It didn’t.

“Why would you bring a test weapon into the field?!”

“I gave you all of my other ones!” She threw up her hands. “Fuck, I feel so bad.”

Larry paled. “Dude, Dare Devil’s gonna kill us.”

“He doesn’t kill!” His boss hesitated. “I think.”

Larry pointed to the empty space. “Yeah? He might start with us. Spidey was a cool guy and you just disappeared him!”

“I know!”

Larry buried his head into his hands and tried not to hate himself for the entire situation.

——

Spider-man woke up, laid flat on the grimy ground of an alleyway.

“Ugh. Just my luck.” He kept his eyes closed for just a beat longer to allow himself time before having to pull his shit together. Why was his voice high? And a bit squeaky? He pulled himself together.

“Okay.” He whispered to himself, before sitting up and taking stock of the situation.

First thing that hit him was that it stunk to high heavens. Gagging, Spider-Man looked to the right and- yeah, that’ll do it. He stood up on wobbly legs to try to move away from the overflowing dumpster.

That’s when the second, more important and decidedly more troublesome, observation hit him.

He’s short. Shorter. And his suit was hanging off of him.

He could tell he still had his normal by now physiology, with the speeding heartbeat and the feeling of super strength. But he’s shorter. With a mounting sense of equal parts dread and resignation, he pulled at the hidden seam by his nape, relying on his both his enhanced senses and spidey-sense to tell if anyone was nearby or looking at him. He pulled the Spider-Man suit off, blankly folding it neatly as he stared dumbly at his hands. They’re small too. Shit. He stumbled to a nearby mud puddle and stared down, seeing his younger face in the contaminated water. Double shit.

He’s starting to loose his composure. He’d gone through a lot of bizarre things over the last eight years. But getting accidentally Detective Conan’ed by a person he just helped was a new low.

The black under layer of his suit, a slash proof and fire resistant polymer Peter had designed himself in MIT’s lab, was in a similar state.

With one hand, Peter Parker numbly rolled up his sleeves and pant hems. Great. Okay. Now what?

Ah. Shoes. He did not want to walk around in his too-big Spider-Man boots. He looked around. Well, there’s the laces of what looked to be like a pair of dumpster shoes. “Yeah, no.”

Shit. Does he still have access to his hammer space?

Peter reached into his pocket, and tried to reach for a pair of normal sneakers. His shoulder slumped as he produced a pair. Fuck yes. He still has access! And shoes! They’re ones he took off of a power line for a well off kid who didn’t want it anymore. He was going to donate them to F. E. A. S. T. but he’s thanking the stars he procrastinated a bit on swinging by the center. He put them on. They’re a bit big, but it’s better than the giant-in-comparison ones he normally wears. You know, as an adult.

He hesitated with his mask. He should at least figure out where he is. He hoped it was still in the states. His mask blinked, the HUD in his lenses informing him that it was trying to find a connection. “That’s weird.” He paused, grimacing at the sound of his voice. But it is weird, because he had his mask automatically connected to the world wide satellites Tony Stark had sent circling the globe for citizens without internet access as a back up option. So either he was somewhere even the Stark Satellites couldn’t reach or…

Peter swallowed, his mask pinging as it found a connection to piggy back on. He clicked his tongue twice to activate the voice controls.

“Connect to the local maps. Where am I?”

His masked followed the order. [Gotham. New Jersey.]

Peter stared at the words, gut churning.

Good news, he was still in the States. Bad news? He’s shrunk, in a totally different state, and possibly in a different world because he’s not connected to the Stark Satellites he knew operated in New Jersey.

Peter Parker tilted his head back and allowed himself one verbal, panic level six and up, curse word.

“Fuck.”

He took off his mask and leaned against a slightly cleaner part of the wall before hyperventilating.

——

Half an hour later, Peter smacked himself on the cheeks and pulled himself together.

“You’re Spider-Man,” he hissed to himself. “Have a mental breakdown somewhere warm, you dumbass.”

Peter Parker was a champion, world class expert at compartmentalization.

He slipped his mask back on, and pulled up his “So You’re Stuck in an Alternate Universe” list he had made with Ned so many years ago when they were high school kids and going through comic books to make contingencies because Peter was a little idiot vigilante hero.

“I didn’t think I’d actually ever need this kind of thing.” Peter muttered. He slipped his black back up gloves on to connect to his mask’s display in order to type.

“Okay,” he glanced at the side by side screens in his lenses. “Money.”

Five things.

1) The emergency cash he’d stashed on him thankfull matched the pictures of cash he’d found on this world’s internet. Yay!

2) He had $1000 tucked away. Not yay. Not if this might be a long term stay before he got back to his own dimension. Not if he wanted a place to sleep.

3) Luckily, thanks to his earlier search of where the hell he was, Peter figured out that due to the high crime rates- “Dang, that’s worse than New York on New Year’s Eve,” he had marveled- Gotham was dirt cheap and that that meant 1k dollars could actually last him a while and he could afford a room for a month on $250. A whole ass apartment for $550. Peter seriously considered staying in this universe just for the rent prices. So what if there’s rampant crimes? He’d deal with it if the rent was that cheap.

4) Problem? He’s fucking tiny. Who would rent to a person that looked like child? Not anyone upstanding, that’s for sure. He’s more likely to get mugged. Counterpoint: he’s in a city where apparently shady people are all around. Also? He doesn’t have an identity.

5) If the fact that he couldn’t connect to the Stark Satellites didn’t convince him he was either in another universe or an alternate dimension, the visual graphics of the websites he visited would. It was like looking at Windows in the early way before Stark Co. bought them out and improved the design. Nauseating.

Okay, so, money’s not too urgent of an issue. Next on Ned’s list: Places of Interest.

Namely, libraries, homeless shelters, crime hotspots, and the like.

Peter snorted when he came across an opinions article talking about how Park Row became Crime Alley. And then he frowned, because that story was not painting this place to be even remotely nice. Then again, considering the crime rates and the various Rogues this place seemed to have in spades, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Peter marks the place in his new mental map of Gotham as a potential area he could either disappear to or get a new identity at. He then marked the libraries, Gotham City Public Library and its many branches all funded by generous donations from a Bruce Wayne, the Martha Wayne foundations’ shelters and charities, two supermarkets near the library, and a coffee shop he thought looked warm and cozy from the shitty pictures they have uploaded online. He needed coffee, dammit, and he needed it hours ago. Alas, he probably wouldn’t get to go to one until he secured his finances.

Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have practice being poor.

3) Which brings him up to Ned’s next, surprisingly reasonable for a teenager hoped up on a mountain load of sugar, point. Level of Tech.

Peter hid next to the dumpster, melding in with the shadows, as he continued his research.

Tech here was… well, he probably wouldn’t have to worry. The thought of not having a Starkphone, even his older model, was painful considering the new versions of these WaynePhones were really… behind. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he had buttons on his phone or let alone a touch screen that didn’t use facial tracking and biometrics or even have a holographic display mode.

“Ugh. Okay. Not the end of the world, Parker.” Peter muttered.

Now… People of Interest.

This was underlined three times with Ned’s red pens, with extensive subcategories.

Subcategory A? Villains, because “what if they put out a warning for a known villain and you get your butt kicked because you didn’t know about them, Peter? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

He had replied, half focused on the list and the other on savoring the Millennium Falcon Lego set May had saved up for months to get him for his birthday, “I feel like if I was getting my butt kicked by a villain, I’d probably have better things to worry about than my utter humiliation, Ned.”

“True that,” Ned had snicked and jotted it down anyways.

And… well, Gotham had a lot of villains. The Joker (ew, that’s a crusty man in crustier face paint. This guy could learn so much from the cool mimes busking in Central Park. Like, how to do face paint. Or how not to be a massive murderous jerk. There’s Clayface, Two-Face, a bald guy in “Metropolis” (a name Peter couldn’t help but snort at because a city named city? That’s like na’an bread being bread bread. Or chai tea being tea tea) named Lex Luthor, and Scarecrow. He tabbed all of them and marked them for further perusal at a later date. From experience, he knew villains with a prominent M.O. and themes usually did more damage. Case in point: Rhino, and the million dollars of property damage the guy did everytime he escaped the Raft. Peter was seriously considering petitioning for the Raft to be placed further out just so he could have more warning the next time some assholes decided to free the prisoners and helped them escape.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen, his mask’s lenses following the movement. He’ll have to pick up a gas mask. Apparently bio-weapons are just a regular thing here and he really didn’t want to get dosed with this “fear toxin.” It’d be dangerous for everyone involved. Maybe if he gets his hands on a sample, he could build up tolerance and see how his immune system and metabolic rates affected the normal progression of the toxin. Ah, off topic. He’s gotta focus.

Subcategory B: Local celebrities.

“Why would I need to know local celebrities?” He’d asked.

“If someone came up to you and asked “Who’s Tony Stark?”, wouldn’t you clock that as super weird? You gotta blend in, Peter. Plus, you gotta keep up with the pop culture, dude. It’s important.”

“You just want alternate universe memes,” Peter grinned.

“That too. If you ever go to an alternate universe and come back, you’d better bring me a truckload of memes or I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeah. So. Wayne? Super important. Like Tony Stark levels of important. He found threads about them and the local vigilantes and their charity works. Peter’s brain instantly catalogued the info, all but memorizing the deluge of pictures he found of Bruce Wayne and his kids. Maybe the man had an adoption problem? Conspiracy threads and memes popped up alongside his research. He tabbed one on secret societies, because as Spiderman, he had fought a disturbing amount of secret societies that, on hindsight, had been theorized about on threads he’s read on his free time. Somehow, somewhere, somewhen, a conspiracy theorist could be right. Peter’s not about to dismiss that. He also saved like thirty different memes to send to Ned when he got back. If he got back.

Peter smacked that thought away. He’ll get back to his city or die trying.

Subcategory C, underlined and starred: Other Superheroes and Vigilantes.

Yeah, Peter’s excited about this one too. After Matt stopped being Dare Devil (but did he actually ever stop?) and Wade dipping in and out of NY, Peter’s gotten lonely as Spider-Man. He missed training with them. Of course, the fantastic four were still operating, but he doesn’t actually interact with them or the Avengers at all. Miles hasn’t been cleared (by his mom) to go out as Spiderman with near as many hours as Peter cleared a night. Peter stood behind that because he remembered how horrible it was to work as Spiderman and try to balance school on top of it. Also, he was terrified of Mrs. Morales and would never endanger her son more than he already does. He did wave to Black Widow from a rooftop once, spider to spider, and that was pretty much the coolest moment of his life.

So. Uh. The amount of vigilantes and heroes in this world? Amazing. In Gotham? There’s like, a whole team of them.

Batman, Nightwing (who, Username: Draken Draken had theorized, was the first iteration of Batman’s sidekick Robin), Red Hood, Black Canary, Huntress, Red Robin, Spoiler, the “day vigilante” Signal, the current Robin, and whispers of a “Black Bat.”

And their unfortunate “No Meta” rule with the singular exception of Signal. Peter figured their term of Meta was essentially the same thing as his world’s mutants. He’s not sure which term he liked more. Eh, he’ll worry about that later.

And there’s a Justice League! Which, to Peter, is just a bigger Avengers. There’s aliens on this world too. Superman. Martian Manhunter.

Peter grinned from his place crouched next to the dumpster. Yeah, this is awesome. He quickly memorized everything he could find, cross referencing posts and picking out the nuggets of truth or at least popular truth from the posts he viewed. Like, Red Hood operated in Crime Alley and was a crime boss with morals. Cool.

He’ll go down the spiral later. He mentally thanked Ned who was the best guy in the chair a teenage vigilante could ask for. He should really text his friend when he got back.

For now, he’ll head to the library and see if he could use their computers. He might need a card though… Peter quickly pulled up the search engine and found an Internet cafe. Ah, 24 hour internet cafes, the savior of his college days. There first, and then library, Peter decided. He memorized the instructions and pulled his mask off, tucking it away in the hammer space.

He walked out the alley and turned left, only to double take at his reflection in a shop window that was partially boarded up. Holy shit, he’s a baby. He’s like. 10!

Oh my god.

Peter twitched, tearing himself away from the window before the shop owner decided he was less curious and more potential mugger before promptly remembering that he looked less of a threat than ever. Mixed feelings.

Peter hurried his way to the internet cafe, paying the guy at the front a little extra so he’d ignore the obvious minor without a guardian thing Peter hasn’t gotten used to. Ugh. That was going to be annoying. He only paid for two hours and pulled up as many listings for a room as possible. By the end of it, he came out with $1 worth of fliers printed out and having funneled some billionaire’s offshore accounts into a new bank account he’d made by hacking into the bank servers. Does he feel bad about stealing? Yeah. But Peter’s a vigilante. He’s done worse than nabbing a monthly sum of a couple of hundreds from Lex Luthor’s off shore accounts. He’s not gonna get caught, and considering the guy’s rants on meta humans, Peter’s not feeling particularly guilty about it. He’ll do something good later to make up for it. Once he gets his footholds and can prepare his way back, he’ll even return to the rest of the money. Probably.

Peter left the cafe with his sheaf of flyers, stopping by an informational stand with free tourist maps and plucked one quickly from its plastic holder. He’ll pick something up from the food vendors on his way to the apartments. Peter began walking, taking in the sights of the gargoyles and-

“Nope!” He caught the wrist of a pickpocket. It’s a kid and he immediately felt bad.

“Lemme go. I ain’t done nothing to ya, ya Yorker tourist.”

“Okay,” Peter shrugged. “Don’t get caught the next time?”

The kid gaped at him. “Shi’, you must be really good at it. I’ve never been caught before.”

Peter wisely refrained from telling the kid it was due to his spidey-sense. He let go of the kid’s wrist and let a bit more of his accent out. “Why’d you need money anyways?”

“Food, duh.”

“Dude, I’m starving. Tell you what. You show me the best sub shop nearby and I’ll pay for your food. Deal?”

The kid stared at him, wide eyed. “You’re fuckin’ nuts. Why’re you being nice?”

“I’m hungry? Do we have a deal, kid?”

“… Fuck it. Fine. And don’t call me kid, shrimp. You’re like what, eight?”

Oh. Yeah. Peter’s a kid now. He shrugged.

“I’m older than you. I’m twelve.”

Peter blinked, frowning at how thin the kid’s wrists were.

“I’m Peter!”

“… Frank.”

He let Frank lead the way. Stranger danger doesn’t apply to him, he’s a grown ass man. In the body of a ten year old him, but still. A couple of minutes, four sandwiches and a load of chips later, Frank was watching wide eyed as he demolished three four dollar subs.

“Holy shit. Where are you packing that away? You’re a stick!”

Peter took a big bite of the sandwich as an answer. Frank looked down at his meal.

“Uh. Hey.”

Peter made a muffled noise of question, mouth stuffed full of steak and cheese.

“Sorry about. Uh. Trynna nick from ya.”

Peter chewed faster.

Frank continued, looking like he hated himself. “I wouldn’t… normally steal from shrimps like you but I was desperate and… really hungry, so. My bad.”

Peter finished chewing. “All good, dude. Eat your sandwich.”

Peter had the sudden urge to adopt Frank. Unlike Wayne, he’s not a billionaire, so he smacked that urge down. He could use a friend though. Now… how to be friends with a literal child!

“If you feel that bad about it, you could… be my friend?”

Peter took in the wide eyed gaze from the twelve year old in front of him. Abort! Abort! That was too direct!

“You’re fucking weird. But… okay.”

“That was easy.”

Frank scowled, kicking Peter’s shin.

“Ow!”

“Whatever, shrimp.”

Peter scowled. On his baby face, it came out as a pout.

Do not start beef with a twelve year old, Peter. You’re a grown ass adult.

“Hey, you know I’m new here, right?”

“Duh.” Frank took a bite of his food.

“Can you tell me which one of these are legit?” Peter handed Frank the flyers. He took them, an odd look passing his face.

“You’re looking for a place?”

“Yeah? Why?”

Frank stared at him. Looked back down. He instantly got rid of four listings out of the ten. “These are too close to the Alley. They’re probably traffickers.”

Peter hummed in agreement. Frank paused.

“You’re just gonna trust me on that?”

“Yeah? I can tell when people are lying.” Well, his spidey sense could, when he cared enough about the subject.

“What the fuck.” Frank shoved the rest the papers at him and guiltily munched on his food. “Are Yorkers all just like you?”

“Dunno? Probably not.”

“… Whatever. The rest of the places should work. They probably won’t ask questions.” Frank flapped a hand at Peter’s new situation. Yeah, the shortness was getting to him too.

Peter nodded. Obviously, they were the more expensive places, but considering the new found resources he’d… acquired during his time at the cafe, it doesn’t really matter.

“Cool! Wanna go see it with me?”

Frank immediately took on a suspicious glare. “Why?”

“I dunno? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought since you know your way around…”

“Ugh. Fine. But if there’s anything shady, I’m fucking dipping out.”

“Okay!” Peter grinned for the first time the couple of hours he’d been trapped in this new world.

——

They’d found an apartment with a landlord that got a weird, sad face when she was talking to them about the apartment. After like, an hour of walking around and Peter’s spidey sense screaming at him not to even go near the places Frank had left in the pile of maybe’s.

“We walked all the way here. Ya not even gonna go in?”

“The vibes are off. It’s a no.”

And because Peter’s a genius idiot with no self preservation, he’d marked the places to investigate later.

Frank had blinked at him, mildly offended and nonplussed. After a while of spluttering, he just gave up. Eventually, they got here.

“I don’t normally rent to kids,” the landlord lady said. Peter immediately liked her. “But I’ll make an exception if you’ve got the cash.”

“I’d like to see the unit first, please” Peter said. He’s not stupid, and Gotham’s renting scene is both easier and harder than New York.

They toured it. Peter? He’d seen worse. He’d lived worse. Also, it had two bedroom and was $620. Yeah, Peter was really considering just staying here full time and commuting to his New York when he wanted to be a vigilante.

“I’ll take it, ma’am.” The landlord and Frank both snorted, sharing a Gothamite look.

“It’s Georgie, to you, brat. You just need the first month’s rent, since I’ll wave the deposit for you shrimps. Utilities included. Your friend stayin’?”

“No-” Frank had started.

“Yep!” Peter beamed, interrupting his new friend.

“What?” Frank turned, gaping again at this weird little kid who had enough money to rent a place and then invited a whole ass street kid he just met to live with him. “Are you stupid?! What if I rob you? Huh? I don’t need charity!”

Peter slowly looked around the empty unit.

“Uh.”

“No, that’s not the point!” Frank pointed a finger at Peter. “That’s how you get yourself killed!”

“But that’s why you should stay! I don’t know my way around Gotham so…”

Peter looked up at Frank, using his shortness for maximum devastation. “Please?”

Georgie leaned back on the heels of her feet, silently laughing. It’s not every day she sees a Gothamite street kid get out stubborned by an outsider, but she knows better than anyone that Gotham is weak to genuine kindness. And this Peter kid, the one that reminds her so much of her own? He’s practically filled with it.

“Yeah, kid,” she said to Frank, snickering. “Look at him. He’s gonna get mugged two steps into the Alley. Or anywhere.”

Frank flailed, but eventually, Peter handed over the money to an amused Georgie who gave them two keys in return and a move in gift of a pot pie.

“I gotta. Uh. Go get my stuff.” Frank had mumbled, dazed at whatever the hell just happened.

“Okay! I’ll see if I can go get furniture!”

“And lift them with your shrimpy arm? You wish.”

“I can use a cart.”

And really, he could, because Gotham had a lot of abandoned carts laying around. Like a concerning amount.

“Can you even reach the handle?”

“I’m not that short!”

Frank snorted, Georgie’s own chuckles following a beat after. Peter scowled at them.

“Be right back,” Frank promised, holding the key like it was treasure. He had been homeless for two and a half years now, so in his eyes, that key was as good as gold. He had somewhere warm to stay. Trying to pickpocket Peter was the best mistake he’s ever made in his short life. But he didn’t want to take advantage of that, well, no, he did want to, but he doesn’t want to take the genuine kindness for granted so he’ll see if there’s any street furniture he could haul back on his way.

“Okay!”

Georgie watched him go and turned to Peter.

“If you need stuff, there’s a thrift store and a grocery store that way.” She gave him the directions.

——

As soon as Frank and Georgie left, Peter immediately left his new place (and holy shit, he really didn’t expect things to be this easy. In New York, he had to spend at least a week checking out places because he had to figure out whether the problem that cause subtle twinges with his spider sense was worth living with. Here? It’s too obvious.) to buy supplies. He had $400. Until his new card came in, at least. He’d put his new address into that bank account addressed to a “Anthony Benjamin” before ordering a “replacement card.”

Peter ran to the thrift store, hurrying before the last traces of the sun dipped below the smog of Gotham. A frankly absurd amount of blankets, towels, pillows, clothes, packaged boxers, socks and shoes around his size went into the cart. To his chagrin, Peter couldn’t actually see much over the cart. Why the hell was he such a short ten year old? He blasted through the store, also guesstimating Frank’s sizes. He tossed in curtains, a used set of glow in the dark stars, and a lamp.

He also grabbed mismatched mugs, bowls, a bundle of cutlery, and a dented microwave he casually pretended to struggle getting onto the bottom part of the cart. It’s like lifting grapes for him, but he looks like a ten year old so…

He, guiltily, bought a mildly fancy camera in a set, with two separate lenses, even if one was cracked.

Not bad, for $150 total. Peter is going to definitely seriously consider commuting to New York. They didn’t even care when he walked out with the cart! Well, that might be because of the cashier who gave him a pitying glance.

He stopped by a general store on the way back, parking his cart in a rapidly shadowy alleyway. He swung by the new section of the store that reminded him of a Dollar Tree and got cleaning supplies, toiletries, and two pans and a pot. He grabbed some canned food and a couple of frozen meals in the back. Seasonings, ramen, general pantry staples went in. A role of paper towel. Nice. Venom would have loved this store. With half of his budget blown for essentials, Peter quickly cut his spending off and

He quickly gathered his stuff and went back to the apartment, using his strength a bit to lift the full cart up the stairs at the front doors and into the elevator. It creaked like the first time they used it to go see the apartment, but it worked. Peter set everything up in the living room, pillow and blanket wise, and put everything in its proper place. The lamp was put up, giving more light than the old bulb in the ceiling light.

All Peter wanted to do was pass out, but since his dumbass took in a child, he couldn’t sleep until this place was relatively fit for a kid to live in. He also wanted to wait for

So, that’s what he did. Taking a sponge and the cleaning supplies he’d picked up earlier, Peter tackled the living room, scrubbing away at old stains and spraying mildew. He marked trouble spots- like that splinter worthy piece of floor next to the doorway leading to the hall between the bedrooms. Then the kitchen. By the time Frank cautiously peeked his head in from the front door, Peter had already finished scrubbing the over.

“Hey.”

Peter turned, grime on his face but grinning. “Hey!” I bought some stuff!”

Frank snorted at his face before glancing around the living room, eyeing the cart parked neatly on the side.

“So you did. Didn’t get mugged, did ya?”

“Rude. No, of course not.”

Frank gave him a… frankly… unimpressed look and dumped his bag next to the pile of blankets and pillows Peter had piled onto the floor. Sue hi’, they didn’t have beds yet.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” Frank said neutrally before dragging in…

“A coffee table!” Peter bounced towards Frank, hugging him before lugging in the heavy wooden table in. “You’re the best! Where’d you find it?!”

The tension, anxiety about Peter’s reaction, in Frank’s shoulders relaxed and the kid grinned. “Alley. Some asshole just left it there for anyone to hit with their car so I took it.”

“Nice! We can eat on this!”

——

When they were getting ready for bed, Peter insisting on showers for both of them, Frank had reared up at the clothes Peter bought for him. Peter pretended like he didn’t see anything and shove a whole tube of toothpaste and a new toothbrush at him.

“Ew. Do I have to?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose but taking the items anyways.

“Yeah.” Peter said seriously. Frank gave a moment to wonder why he was taking orders from an eight year old before shrugging. He could brush his teeth in exchange for a roof over his head, food, and clothes. It’s not even a fair trade, for Peter, anyways. Frank was enough of an alley rat to take advantage of that.

——

When Frank passed out, Peter couldn’t sleep. He’s exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep.

So he took his new camera and climbed the fire escape to the roof top.

An hour later, he met his first vigilante.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m gonna need you to back away from the edge.”

“Woah!” Peter startled, jolting slightly off of the ledge he was balanced on. He twisted around to see Red Robin, hand outstretched and panicked look in his eyes.

“Dude. Warn a guy!” Peter said, even though his spider sense warned him of an approaching person that was actively watching him.

Red Robin held his hands up. “My bad. Would you- uh, not be on that ledge?”

“Yeah, sure. My bad, bro.” Peter obligingly stood up and stepped away from the ledge. Red Robin relaxed then did a double take. Peter frowned. Is there something on his face?

“What are you doing up here, kiddo? It’s late.”

Peter decided to scope out the vigilante. “Couldn’t sleep,” he held up his camera. “I’m taking pictures.”

“Oh. That’s cool! Can I see?” Red Robin approached warily, but relaxed when Peter didn’t spook and try to take a shortcut to ground floor.

“Sure! It’s a new, well, not new but new to me, camera so I haven’t had all that time to mess with the specs but the pictures turned out pretty good-”

“Oh, woah. This one’s great. That composition? Amazing. You caught the light perfectly,” Red Robin complimented. Peter brightened, knowing a photography fan when he hears one.

“Photography buddy!” He cheered.

They talked for an hour after that, but Red Robin quickly sent him to bed once he remembered the time.

“Ah, shi- crap. It’s like 2AM. You’ve gotta go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry if I interrupted your patrol, Mr. Red Robin!”

“No problem, kid.” Peter slipped back down the fire escape, not caring if the vigilante saw where he lived.

——

Up on the rooftop, Red Robin pressed a hand to his comm.

“Red Robin to Nightwing.”

“What’s up, Red?”

“Do you have a kid you don’t know about?” Tim said, bluntly.

“… What?”

“Oracle, can you share my cowl footage?”

“Copy. Oh, that kid…”

“Looks exactly like Wing?” Tim said, peering down at the empty fire escape. “Yeah. Talked like him too.”

“Oh my god, he’s adorable.” Oracle said. Tim agreed. That curly hair? Baby face? Adorable. A bean. “Did you get DNA?”

“Ah, shit, I knew I forgot something.”

“Do not break into his place and nab a hair,” Nightwing reprimanded, but his voice sounded distracted.

“Holy shit, you guys nerded out about camera placement and lighting for an hour?” Hood piped up.

“Get some rest, Red Robin. You’ve been working too hard,” Batman grunted through the comms. Awkward… but he’s been getting better at communicating his worry for his kids.

“Sure thing, B. Heading back to the main cave. Red Robin out.

——

Peter: lay low and get home

Also Peter: talks to a vigilante

None of them think Peter’s Nightwing’s yet. Peter will know before them… eventually. Once this world’s version of him gives up his memories to be absorbed by AU Peter.

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isangelic · 2 years

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Had a whole makeover nfhjfjfgjk, i really like this (for now lol);; vv summery and fruity vibes 🍉

#* ☕︎ chats!#let’s just all hope that this time i’ll not start hating it the day after 💀#it’s kinda cute me thinks #also i love this icon way too much #the header is kinda eh #the desktop theme looks super pretty too #i’m... happy #:D

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vagabond-umlaut · 1 month

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meet you where the sky meets the earth

to love is to listen to your heart, not your brain. to dream whilst in love, is to make your brain listen to your heart.

▸ gojo satoru x fem!reader; former teacher x former student [gojo is six yrs older than reader]; bittersweet fluff; you're so in love w satoru, it shd hurt- but it doesn't because you've grown numb to the ache; one-sided feelings [are they really?]; few mentions of food; gojo calls you 'cookie'; this is way too tender even for me, istg; 1.5k wc

▸ belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna! 😊

▸ the header is from pinterest, the dividers are by @benkeibear, the characters used here aren't mine. pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this. hope y'all enjoy reading this ❤️❤️

the first time you think of marrying gojo, you're only twenty years old.

hardly the age to be dreaming of wedding bells at, right?

yeah, right. that's very, very right— still, your heart is your heart, just how your brain is your brain, the former easily swaying the latter by a few skipped beats— and you find your cheeks growing warm, laughs stumbling past your lips as you place the box of cornflakes into your shopping cart.

gojo sputters from beside you, eyes comically wide behind his shades as they dart from you to the elderly woman before.

you take a second to compose yourself before answering the ask that created this mess in the first place, a polite smile lining your face, "oh, no– not at all, ma'am! we're not married. i'm just an old friend helping him with the groceries, haha."

"oh," that's the only thing the woman says in reaction, kind smile now a tiny frown before it reappears. and she apologises, "i'm sorry, dears. just thought you two to be newlyweds from how giddy and loving you seemed to each other... time i went for an eye check-up, yes?"

"hey, please don't be sorry..." you start to say, but before you can get any further, the woman has already walked away with her shoppping basket.

you fall silent.

the same way the man next to you too has grown quiet, an awkward silence taking up the foot between you both. until you break it with a strained chuckle.

"we were acting giddy and loving to each other, eh?"

"were we?" comes the contemplative question to your comment. you look up to find gojo looking at you, the blue of his eyes weirdly bright in the dim lights of the supermarket as he repeats, "were we, cookie?"

yes. no. you don't really know—

yes, 'cause you know you love him.

not since forever, no, but close enough to it: your once-fascination for the supposed mortal deity of the jujutsu world, the mitochondrion on which the cellular structure of the society banks to survive; that grew into something made of wonder, respect and fondness, as you slowly came to know not only the icon but also the man behind it; that grew into something so profound, nestling deep within your existence– so much so that you feel the earth shifting on its axis everytime he calls you or grins at you or just looks in your direction—

no, 'cause you know you aren't loved back.

not the way you wish to be... not that you blame gojo for that, though!

you know he is way too busy to be thinking of such topics– what with being the strongest sorcerer ever, the head of the one-man gojo clan, the teacher to the first-years at tokyo high, the legal guardian– but in fact, the father figure to the two kids, 'gumi and 'miki– or maybe, just maybe, he is busy, alright, but not too busy— gojo simply doesn't see you that way; he sees you to be nothing but his former student— one he knows he can rely on to help with his children, or the groceries, or a variety of other menial daily tasks he can just hire help for—

you don't know.

yeah... you really, really don't know– and by now, you think you don't even want to know anymore. it's easy, it's safe, it's nice to remain not knowing. the word 'yes' comes with too many dreams– the word 'no' serves the perfect haven to nightmares.

the three words "i don't know" bear no such burden on their back– an untroubled answer you decide to offer, decide to escape using for the time being— until a slight knock on the head interrupts you, followed by an entertained set of chortles.

you peer up to find gojo beaming down at you, his eyes crinkled and cheeks dimpled. something twists in the middle of your chest, but it isn't painful; it's grounding. pleasant, even.

"it's too easy to get you worried, y'know? you're unbelievably easy to manipulate, heh."

"oh, am i now?" you retort, eyes narrowing into a cross glare– only to be betrayed by the fond smile grazing your lips not even a beat later. the man hums, grin simmering down to a knowing smile.

"mmhm," he says with that musical sway to his tone that never fails to make your fingers tingle, "you should have seen your face when i asked you the question– so pale and stiff– almost as if i was asking you to leave then and there, hearing that granny's comments—"

"you would have asked me to, if they were true– wouldn't you?"

gojo's smile vanishes in the blink of an eye. and you think the hand he has stretched out to the shelves of biscuits might fall too– but it does not, and you see him take a packet of your favourite bourbon biscuits followed by a packet of the digestives you've been forcing him to eat, and place them into the cart.

he checks the shopping list in your hand before he looks back at you.

before he smiles back at you: so soft, so solemn, so un-satoru— you instantly regret interrupting him with such a question.

but you do know how it is, don't you? what with a thudding heart and a thinking brain...

the handle of the cart digs deep indents into your palm as you press the weight of your worries into the cool metal and lean towards your companion on this grocery run, the same way a moth flies towards a flame, towards its doom–

"don't you ever dream of falling in love, gojo-san?" you let your voice drop to a murmur, audible only to you and the object of your desires, the subject of your worries, "do you not dream of a happily ever after with your 'one'– do you, gojo-san?"

"no," the response to your words comes in the very same instant. the man's shades slip a touch down the bridge of his nose as he pins his sharp gaze on you– though it can do nothing to hide the mild tremor in his grin from you when he says, "and i don't plan on dreaming ever. dreaming is only for fools with too much time to spare– do i look like a fool with too much time to spare, cookie?"

no. not at all. you don't. you look the farthest from it, in fact— is what you know you should say, and just drop the matter. for now. forever—

but you don't... just don't.

retorting instead, still a murmur but with the faint lick of a fire now, "and what do you suggest should be done to those fools, gojo-san? punished severely for their grievous crime of dreaming, hm?"

"oh, don't be too harsh," he tuts with a breezy chuckle, "what people do is honestly their business; one i've got no interest in interfering in— but..." his grin twists into something wry, a change you find tough to tear your gaze away from, "i don't think i would give such folks the time of my day– it's simply not worth it to talk with those whose feet are not on the solid ground, floating around meaninglessly in air–"

"why are you talking with me then?"

interrupted, gojo blinks. once, and twice, then thrice.

you watch your face crumple in the dark tint of his shades, withering and cracking in the dull light and stale air of this stupid supermarket; but definitely not as stupid as you:

messing things up when they're perfectly fine and alright, only 'cause you do not, rather cannot, keep your mouth shut, no matter what– all your inhibitions let gone of as your heart gains control over your brain and your stupid damned mouth—

you feel a tiny knock on your forehead, the second time this evening, followed by strands of hair being gently brushed away; too careful for your breath to not get stuck in your chest. you peer up at the man in front, teeth lightly gnawing the inside of your lower lip.

gojo's features shift into something between fond and worried– you just hope you aren't misreading him right now– the man tucks those strands of hair behind the shell of your ear.

his fingers still right above your jaw, touching yet not really touching, features finally, finally, settling into a smile– "maybe because i enjoy talking with you, cookie, no matter how foolish you are."

some people say, marriage is a holy act, a sacred institution, in and of itself— connecting hearts, binding souls– cementing the promises of staying together forever... whilst few see marriage to be meaningless— paltry affair of papers and signatures and people, none bearing any significance, 'cause nothing can, not when it comes to the matters of the hearts, neither in proving nor in disproving them–

no matter what people think, you think you will be okay, irrespective of whether you marry gojo or not, irrespective of whether gojo loves you or not– provided– and this is a weird, still important 'provided'—

you and he end up shopping together in the supermarket, feeling and seeming so happy and comfortable with each other— others mistake you for a pair of newlyweds, blissfully deep in love.

tysm to my dearest andy [@andysdrafts], mimi [@avatarofstars] & dilay [@roseqzpd] for constantly motivating me while i was writing this. ilysm my darlings 😘😘😘

masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk fluff #jjk angst #kit posts 📝

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kaihuntrr · 9 months

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A bunch of Scott designs I did for warmups <3 using my personal head canons for each one! Explanations for their looks and ‘names’ down below!

Life Series: Scott!

I love all of them so much,, I wanted to keep their outfits and general vibes simple, they’re all pretty but also some practicality in their wardrobes as they are in some type of survival game ehe.

3rd Life: Poppy

Self explanatory name, this version of Scott is the sweetest and the most disconnected from the survival games. He only wanted to live with his husband in their little paradise in forms of flower valleys and endless wheat fields, completely isolated from the war. His outfit is of a gardener, overalls and a sunhat with his and Jimmy’s favorite flower; poppies. He grew out his hair and ties it, not wanting it to be in the way of his work. He is overly protective of his husband, wanting to keep him safe and away from danger for as much as he possibly can. A widow’s rage is something else.

I imagine 3rd Life designs to be more humanoid, so Scott here is an elf! This soul of his moved on to Empires, where he spends the rest of his days with his husband in sweet bliss.

Last Life: Star

Earned the name after being victorious in the game of betrayal. A guiding star to others, he keeps the titular mark on his forehead for the remainder of his time in the Life Series due to being a winner, a reminder of him losing his final life to a lightning bolt. He is the most cunning, using his wits and trust to be a strong ally. He lived in the center of all the chaos with his partner, his best friend Pearl, using little moths to communicate to each other. With sheltered forests and a cottage as their ‘home’, he has deer-like features and antlers to boot. Perhaps this was an attempt to recreate a copy of Poppy, as he has some memories of ‘his’ previous life. He dresses in a neat dress shirt and vest, matching with his best friend and fitting the aesthetic of their pretty house in the woods. Just don’t touch the wall, please.

I wanted to use yellows for this design, as he starts off with two lives! Plus, the contrast looks so good <3 this soul is the host of future life seasons, having full clarity of this life when he goes into future events. Once a series is over, all precious memories will wash over him and the star will hover over his head. This is his ‘real’ form, his ‘winning’ soul.

Double Life: Venus

Named after the brightest ‘star’ next to the moon, he feels isolated. He felt something familiar as he was brought into this life, but he never expected to be connected to Pearl. He shouldn’t blame her, but he doesn’t deal well with being alone. Somehow, he still has a brief memory of Poppy’s as he feels.. something when Jimmy’s soulbound isn’t with him. He loves being with Cleo, his chosen soulmate, and being Pearl’s soulbound meant he could feel her frustration and loneliness. Should he have been there for her? Likely. He couldn’t bare seeing her face again. He couldn’t bare losing her again. Not again. Maybe it was better this way, they’re both hurting. He hopes this is better.

I used green as he was green in his iconic and heartbreaking moment of splitting off with Pearl and Martyn to join up with Cleo, and also I can remember him being mostly green until Pearl ups and ruins that- he’s a ram, his horns shifting to ram horns to solidify his stubborn nature to reconnect, and a general ranch aesthetic given he and Cleo made a whole soulmate ranch thing. The hair over his eyes are to hide his teary eyes, still missing and hurting over his soulmate.

Limited Life: Coral

A fitting name for the person who established the Coral Isles. The cottage was in the middle of it all, so he wanted his life to be away from all the drama, just by the side of the map near the ocean to relax. Unfortunately, things just won’t stop coming for him. Be it being the boogeyman first, allying with someone who you swore was supposed to kill you, and more memories of your past life you don’t understand coming back to haunt you, it’s a little too much. He can’t help but be flirty with Martyn though, the man definitely bites back. He finds his partner’s overprotective-ness rather adorable, and he’d do anything for him back, even give him time.

Fish!! Drastically different than my AU design, which is good- used his red skin as he did wonderfully as a red name and whenever I think of Limited Life I’d always think of Red Scott, which I adore <3 he does have long hair, can’t not have his long hair for him!

Until series five comes out, these are my thoughts and ideas for Life Series Scott! I’d love to write out possible interaction ideas but I’m afraid this post might be too long LMAO- a good break from Sea Prince content, but I absolutely adore the life series and the pseudo-story I have for this guy in particular. Who knows, you might see fullbodies of them in the future? :D no promises!

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stylespresleyhearted · 1 month

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POV: YOU’RE DATING CALLUM TURNER

pt. ✌🏻

liked by fan23, user12, and 1923 others

cturnerupdates Cal & Y/N spotted at a cafe in Paris today - March 23, 2024

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fan12 I SHIP IT BUT IM JEALOUS

y/nfan two lovers in the city of love 🥹 fitting ♥️

user23 I’m calling it now these two are gonna be it for each other. They’re end game.

yourinstagram that’s the goal🥹

liked by yourinstagram, austinbutler and 15,713 others

keoghan92 Context: Cal taking his bird away because we were apparently “pissed ” 🙄

Photo credit - me 🫡

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anthonyboyle baftas are always a fun night eh?

yourinstagram he saved your ass, i had you!!!

keoghan92 love I’ll out drink you any day

yourinstagram tbh we weren’t even that drunk

rafflaw you were crying cus you “lost” your boyfriend but he was holding your hand the entire time and barry thought the stalls were narnia entry

keoghan92 that’s a solid night mate

fan23 damn y/n looks good

yourinstagram tits out & every thang 🤗

keoghan92 Oi her heads big enough

liked by enews, yourfriendsig, and 5,391 others

yourinstagram trying to enjoy my lunch but this weird (cute) guy won’t stop bothering me (i love him)

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user12 i need to know what its like to be her

fan23 callum is so down bad for her #relatable

fan21 what did she cover up 👀

yourinstagram lol just cal being cheeky

liked by anthonyboyle and 7183 others

yourinstagram hi handsome ♥️

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fan23 THE WAY HE’S LOOKING AT HER 🙌🏼😭😭

user68 i wonder if he’s aware how many photos she takes of him and she posts them all its weird

yourfriendsig lmao trust he’s aware & he’s obsessed when it comes to y/n

fan21 ppl see shit on the internet & think they know everything ugh 😑

yourinstagram guys let’s all be nice and enjoy looking at my beautiful boyfriend! 😍

liked by yourinstagram and 38175 others

jimmyfallonshow Tune in tonight 10/11 CT to witness Callum Turner swoon over ‘amazing’ girlfriend 💕 ….

When asked if he’s aware how iconic she’s become on social media he said he’s well aware and he isn’t at all surprised before divulging to Jimmy “she’s the one.” 💍 👀

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user23 After watching the interview I’m 100% convinced he’s the golden retriever and she’s the black cat. Y/N loves him but gosh … the way he was talking about her and looking at her?

fan13 IMA CRY ITS NOT LETTING ME WATCH SOMEONE SHARE

y/nupdates It starts with Callum sharing a joke and Jimmy didn’t laugh but Y/N did from the crowd 😂 Callum recognized her laugh and said “thanks baby” and then that’s when Jimmy asked about her IG fame. Callum said “she’s the one man - we aren’t worried about that.” When Jimmy asked how they deal with the attention.

user12 starting to wonder if they’re secretly married/engaged

fan31 Nah and I think it’s beautiful even though they’re aware they are it for each other she’s willing to wait and support him as he enters a new kind of fame

liked by user23, fan12, and 71942 others

yourinstagram Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy - 🥵

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callumfan Y/N PLSSSSSS I CANNNOOOTTT

user41 girllll yes !!!!

fan53 can i please be you???

user91 ur man is so daddy he’s fire

user33 Y/N and Callum daddy kink confirmed

keoghan92 That’s what we called him on set

yourinstagram back off my man barry

rafflaw … we really did though

liked by austinbutler, yourinstagram, and 58194 others

drewbarrymoreshow Hilarious, gorgeous, and kind — yes these guys, but I was referring to the star of tonight’s show Callum Turner’s girlfriend. Her Instagram page is one of my favorite’s, tune in to watch me fan girl over three stars tonight.

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yourinstagram unreal !! i adore you !!❤️❤️

drewbarrymoreshow Text me for our date night 🤗

fan23 everyone loves y/n it’s beautiful to see someone being praised when they’re authentically themselves

user12 shoulda interviewed her too

drewbarrymooreshow 🌚

liked by austinbutler, camilamorrone, and 43817 others

yourinstagram Y/N by me (Cal) 💍♥️😍

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fan31 HIS EMOJI USE?!?? rip me

user12 im gonna cry she’s so smol he’s so tol

fan23 Cal make your own page!!! We know it’ll just be Y/N and we’re okay with it!!! It’s what we want tbh !!!

keoghan92 “why the fuck are you taking a photo” is what she was mid saying

user25 omg he probably crushes her she’s tiny it’s great

liked by zendaya, austinbutler, and 65189 others

yourinstagram 🥹

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fan23 ugh the height difference kills me

user12 they’re so in love it makes me happy

fan33 I believe in love because of them tbh

fan67 idk how he hasn’t popped the question yet

liked by fan21, user33, and 19278 others

cturnerupdates Callum spotted with Y/N and his mother in London back in Feb for his birthday. The group had a picnic at the park and Callum’s mother even braided her hair — Feb 19, 2024

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user13 ohhhh he’s gonna be a girl dad fs

fan54 she’s got the momma’s stamp approval it’s gonna happen

user23 what i wouldn’t give to be his gf and have a picnic w him at the park and have his mom braid my hair

fan56 Is anyone gonna talk about how he’s looking at her? 🥹🥹😍 Definition of heart eyes

————

I’m so down bad for this man so I really couldn’t resist making another one. He’s handsome and charming and manly and ughhhhh kill me!

P.S slight FC use of Olivia Dejonge. Not only is she gorgeous but she’s so smol and I find it so beautiful, especially with how large he is. Needed that picture for a specific use to help identify the size difference between the two but feel free to keep imagining whoever. He’s dated Vanessa Kirby and Dua Lipa so the hair color constantly changes in pics 😭

Don’t have a tag list but thanks to everyone for all the love, hope ya’ll enjoy this one as well 💕

#callum turner #callum turner instagram edit #callum turner x reader #callum turner fanfic #callum x reader #made by me #should i perhaps make a tag list?#also a part 3 anyone maybe

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silkjade · 1 year

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genshin men x driving

this is so dumb but it had to be said. I've been driving for a while so a lot of these are taken from irl experiences I've had myself or from friends. also I'm american so this is based on driving in the u.s. | modern au, humor, fluff, reckless driving

𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐭

albedo ;; he has a habit of driving on the inner most lane of the highway but he doesn’t start switching to the exit lane until like 1 exit before. drove klee to the beach once 2 years ago and is still somehow finding sand in his car. all his turns are super wide

diluc ;; probably drives a very classic luxury car, like an aston martin or something. it’s sleek, it’s black, it’s giving batmobile because he drove with his high beams on for like 6 months and doesn’t get why it’s bad. it makes the road brighter he says as he blinds everyone going the other way. drives stick shift (manual), very hot when he reverses and puts his arm around the passenger seat

kaeya ;; he was the first person to get his license and everyone would ask him for rides, so now he drives a tiny sports car that doesn't fit anything. it’s also a luxury car but it’s flashier than diluc’s. follows driving laws to the T except for the fact that he never fully stops at stop signs

venti ;; an okay driver but it’s a terrible experience. you're amazed at how he hasn't run into any trouble yet. like at all. the kind of person who would try to run the yellow light except he’s doesn’t make it and is forced to brake really hard and just goes like "is everyone ok ehe.” you almost die and he says “oops”

𝐥𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐞

xiao ;; pet peeve: slow drivers. absolutely cannot stand sitting in traffic so he rides a motorcycle. always weaving in between cars but does it significantly less if you’re riding with him. has yanfei on speed dial in case of an accident. doesn’t know he’s super hot when he takes off his helmet and shakes his hair

zhongli ;; a slow driver. goes under the speed limit on the highway and gets cut off like no tomorrow. he doesn't think he's the problem though, just complains about how everyone is going way too fast. safety king. fakes injury for insurance money when someone hits him; only feels kind of bad

𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐚

ayato ;; has a driver that takes him everywhere because he does not drive, doesn't even have a license. passed his written exam with flying colors but failed on all three tries behind-the-wheel. his younger sister drives the car their parents bought for him. always likes tweets that are like “hot people don’t have their license”

gorou ;; family van kind of guy. very reliable and will drive you to the airport or help you move. doesn’t signal when switching lanes though which is kind of annoying. gets anxious driving in areas where there are a lot of one ways. always buys fruits from vendors selling it on the side of the road

heizou ;; drives with the top down, windows down and will make you feel like a coming of age movie protagonist. has the best driving playlist but will still hand you the aux if you ask. doesn’t pay for street parking though; parking meter? never heard of her

itto ;; car guy ™ who goes to car meets and mods his car. revs his engine when he sees his friends on the road but other than that he's actually a really good driver. takes very good care of his car— that’s his baby. he’s hot when he backs into parking spaces perfectly. blasts his music too loud at night though

kazuha ;; public transport icon. somehow never misses his bus/train/whatever and always manages to squeeze on even during rush hour. he tells people it's for the environment but that’s only half true. it's not that he can't drive, he just has the jankiest car; it's old as hell, has a dent on one side, and the passenger door doesn't even open from the inside

thoma ;; shining example of a perfect driver, the dmv wants him to do all their instructional videos. was only ever pulled over once before for swerving, but talked his way out of a ticket because he was trying to avoid hitting an animal. has those family stickers on his rear windshield except it's one man and like 3 dogs

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐮

al haitham ;; probably has an suv because he thinks it’s the most useful car and can get the most out of it. almost exclusively listens to audiobooks while driving. he had a great record until he accidentally rear ended a bus because he turned around to argue with kaveh in the backseat and now his car insurance is insanely high

cyno ;; super responsible driver, both hands on the wheel at 9 and 3 at all times. secretly really wants a retired police car because he thinks the idea of people suddenly slowing down when they see him on the road, thinking it’s a cop, is hilarious. names his car something stupid like attila the hyundai

kaveh ;; terrible at directions, his gps is constantly saying “rerouting” because he keeps missing turns and exits. cannot parallel park to save his life and will ask you to switch and park for him. generally a polite driver but if he's ever behind al haitham at a stop light, he beeps his horn at him 0.2 seconds after the light turns green

tighnari ;; his trunk is always full of plants and bags of soil, fertilizer, etc. has mild road rage; if he’s forced to brake hard because someone cut him off, especially while he has the right of way, he’s yelling in the car like “I should’ve hit you” because insurance would be on his side. carries snacks in his glove compartment, soccer mom energy

𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

childe ;; exclusively uses the term 'my tesla' instead of 'my car.' he insists on having it self drive to you from the parking lot; it takes forever and more often than not, it'd be faster to just walk. doesn't matter how far away he is, he's gonna go for that yellow light, it's a race against time and he's gonna win. one hand on the wheel, one hand on your thigh

dainsleif ;; drives in silence, no music no radio— nothing; sometimes he'll listen to self help podcasts though. a lot of the times he zones out and doesn’t know how he got from point a to point b. sits in his car for like half an hour after arriving home. likes holding your hand while driving

dottore ;; mutters “this would be a good place to dump a body” whenever he drives past a ditch. got pulled over for driving in the carpool lane by himself and using a mannequin to fake a passenger. they also found a bunch of questionable things in his car that he swears is for science. no longer drives because his license got revoked

pantalone ;; his car is immaculately clean. charges you for gas and makes you wipe your shoes before stepping in. always wants to stop for coffee first before going anywhere. has a lot of money but doesn’t know shit about cars so he gets way overcharged at bodyshops

scaramouche ;; says things like “I will crash this car right now” if he’s arguing with someone. hates backseat drivers and will threaten to kick you out if you are one. sometimes speeds down an empty highway at night just to feel something but drives extra carefully when nahida’s around. parks in the far corner of a supermarket parking lot to cry

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin hcs #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #childe x reader #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader #zhongli x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaeya x reader #dottore x reader #genshin impact imagines

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idlerin · 1 year

Text

LOVE SICK

a suna rintarou social media au

pairing. suna rintarou x f!reader

synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).

tags. social media au, college au, fake dating, matchmaker, romance, crack, humor, fluff!

warnings. time stamps are irrelevant !!, foul language (aka cursing), drinking/alcohol

status. on-going (02/15/24 —)

— playlist.

teasers

[name]’s reading list | suna’s playlist | [name]’s in trouble !

profiles

ppl who think love sucks + [name] | inarizaki dogs

episodes !

chapter names may be subjected to change as the fic goes along.

( ❥ ) — has narrative parts

ACT I

01. romance 101 w [l/n] [name] !

02. aren’t you like, cupid

03. the bucket list

04. dead, shattered, devastated

05. it’s all cliché and full of obvious red flags

06. passion is a passing thing

07. keep your eyes on me

08. im a matchmaker not a mathematician

09. ur like an exothermic reaction

10. a witch! she's a witch!

ACT II

11. my dearest,

12. lol didn’t think u were mine

13. who cares if he’s a bit psychotic (he’s hot)

14. the grumpy x sunshine trope

15. shitty romance books

16. will they won’t they

17. season of hearts

18. touch some grass

19. and the world stills

20. being with you is ecstasy

ACT III

21. will they/won’t they

22. you hate me? so enemies to lovers?

tba !

taglist is OPEN !

to be added to the taglist you can just send in an ask or comment :)

notes. hi so this was like supposed to be posted on valentines but i got impatient and hey its still the month of love so whatever ehe will not start till i finish nonsense since i need to learn how to do stuff one at a time! but yeah super excited to make this bc i love fake dating and i love suna rintarou hohoho thank you guys sm for 400 followers i love you all <3

icons used as pfps are not mine but the content of this smau is. please do not repost this on any other platform. © idlerin 2023

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lostbetweenvampiresandmusic · 2 months

Note

Hii could I request Paul and Marko with a reader who is like Lisa Frankenstein? Just some head canons if you don't really know who she is

Okay, listen, I just finished watching the movie, and I can't stop thinking about it - that last scene? Beloved wife? I told you I would hold your hand - iconic. So yeah, eh there are some spoilers here for Lisa Frankenstein.

It has gotten a little bit linger than i thought, and it's a bit more Marko x reader than Paul x reader x Marko, but the pairing is definitely there! 😅 Hope you like this!

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

"Where are you going?" Trent looked at me. His schoolbag was hanging from one shoulder, his sunglasses slowly sliding down his nose. I shrugged. "For a walk."

"Mum said you had to be home by five."

I rolled my eyes, sighing. Ever since my dad had decided to not only date but marry Trents mom, my life changed. Of course, it had already changed before. That kind of tends to happen when your mom decides to leave. And then die.

"Fine." I walked away from Trent, away from the stuffy schoolbuilding filled with people I didn't want to know. I didn't want to move here, I had liked my - miserable - life back in Santa Cruz. But, with dad being married and all, I had little choice. Moving to Santa Carla, it was. Trent was okay, I suppose. He didn't force me to hang out with him, and he'd let me be - mostly. His mother, however, was overbearing, always wanting to know everything and controlling everything. It gave me an odd, almost claustrophobic sense. And dad? Well, he was more focused on keeping his wife happy than he was worried about me. Luckily for me, it wasn't all bad. I had found a small little sanctuary hidden within the woods.

"Hello again," I said softly as I found my way through the woods. Hidden between several thick trees and bushes was a headstone. The stone itself was rather sober, only a name etched into it. On the ground in front of it, however, was a small bust of a devilishly handsome face. I assumed the face and name went together. It was a shame, really, that this guy had been dead. Had he been alive - well, damn... But he wasn't, and besides, there was this guy in my history class - Michael Emerson? - who was actually kind of cute?

I sat down next to the stone, making my homework, reading in some books, and finally feeling a little at peace. I looked up when I felt a raindrop fall on my nose, quickly grabbing my stuff. "I'll see you later, Marko!" I said softly before running off. The rain started to really pour, and I ran as fast as I could to make it back home to my place.

That night, a storm raged over Santa Carla. Rain, winds, and heavy thunder rolled over the small town. Lightning striked multiple times, but there didn't seem to be any fires anywhere. I lay on my bed, ready to go to sleep. I stared at my window. Lightning flashed again. In the bright flash of the light, I saw a shadow appear in my window, a silhouette. I shot up, looking straight straight my window. Red eyes stared back at me.

I screamed. The red eyed silhouette waved at me, motioning for me to be quiet. Who was he to tell me to be quiet? Angrily, I stepped towards the window, ready to give him a piece of my mind, when suddenly my window flew open. The man stepped inside. I froze. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out. I just looked at him. He looked at me, then at my room. The bed that was slept in, the clothes laying on the chair, the walls filled with drawings and sketches...

He slowly but surely moved towards my art wall, tilting his head as he looked at one of the drawings.

"What is it?" I asked, not sure what to do.

He just pointed at it. It was the drawing I made of Marko's headstone and the bust. I frowned. "So? What about it?"

He pointed at it again, then at himself. I frowned. Surely he didn't mean that-

"You're Marko?" I asked in a whisper. With a sly grin, he nodded. I froze, frowning. "How? Why are you here?"

This time, he gave me a genuine smile. He made a C with his hand and then waved. Puzzled, I looked at him. "Because I said see you later?"

The next morning, I was woken up early by dad. "We need your help."

Once again, he nodded. I took a deep breath.

"I- Hiw? I didn't mean for you to come and see me? I mean - you're dead! I meant I'd come back to your grave?"

Marko looked at me, a hurt expression on his face.

"Sorry! I'm sure you're an alright guy if you were actually - you know - alive?"

I could have sworn I saw his expression turn even more sad. I sighed, deciding I could deal with zombie emotions later. Right now, Marko - or whoever he really was - desperately needed a shower and some clean clothes, and I was in desperate need of some sleep.

I sighed - the woman he married had been working in the meat industry, selling blood. I didn't know why, nor did I want to know why. I had tried to tell my dad that I didn't want to help with the work on the farm, what with me not eating meat anymore and all, but apparently that was not a conversation I could have. I had no say in the matter, I had to help.

Thirty minutes later, I showed up in the barn, begrudgingly starting the work of cleaning them, when a loud metallic clang caused me to look up. One of the many pipes through which the bodily fluids moved had made the sound. I looked up, screaming when the pipe snapped and gallons of blood were poured on top of me. I dropped the shovel I'd been holding, running out of the barn, leaving bloody footprints everywhere I went. I quickly went into my shower, cleaning the blood off of myself.

When I got out of the shower, dressed in my bathrobe, I noticed Marko sitting in a dark corner of my closet. He had changed his muddy clothes for some bright coloured pyjama trousers and an old band shirt I'd gotten from Trent. He looked at me, a certain hunger in his eyes.

"Are you alright?"

He nodded, then shrugged.

"Oh! You need food!" I was already halfway through my room towards the door when I stopped and turned to look at him. "Eh - what, what do dead guys eat?" I asked.

I froze when Markos hand grabbed my wrist, finding the one spot of blood I'd missed, and slowly licking it up. I pulled my arm away from him, disgust written all over my face. "You can't just lick people!" I hissed before realisation dawned on me. "Wait, you need blood?"

That evening, Marko and I sneaked out of the house towards the barn. I had spent the whole afternoon dragging an old and rusty bathtub into the barn, placing it under the broken pipes. I told Marko to wait by the tub as I opened the faucet. It didn't take long, or blood ran into the tub, filling it quickly.

Marko nodded, grinning. I sighed. "I can get you some blood tonight, alright?"

The more Marko drank, the more handsome he became somehow. I couldn't help but feel a warmth inside me when I saw him drink, heard the moans of delight...

"What the hell are you doing out of bed, young lady? And turn the faucet off! It's bad enough that you made us lose so much product today!"

I jumped, freezed, and looked at my stepmother, not sure what to do.

"And who the hell is that? Is he drinking blood? I told your father that I didn't want you to bring your kind over to this place. He wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I knew that morbid loving people like you would only bring trouble, you freak!" She was about to scream, but before I could do anything, Marko was already upon her. Her neck was ripped open, her blood was drunk, and then her lifeless body fell to the ground. I stared at Marko, not really knowing what to say. 'Thanks' felt wrong in this situation. And yet, it was somewhat right?

"You just killed -" I stopped talking, not sure what I was going to say. "We need to bury the body," I decided, grabbing her feet, smiling shyly as Marko easily lifted the dead weight in his arms. I lead the way to the forest, back to where his grave had been - and I couldn't help but feel rather content when he dropped her body in the grave.

"Is it bad, down there?" I asked. He shrugged and then nodded. I grinned. The woman deserved it. Just a little bit. "Good."

One night, he stopped me when I was about to enter the barn. I stopped, puzzled, before realising what he wanted. "You want human blood?"

In the days that followed, every single night, I sneaked him out of the house unseen, making sure he could drink more blood. The more blood he drank, the more whole he became. The more time I spent with him, the more I realised I liked him beyond his looks. And yet, he was still dead. And yet, I still fancied Michael Emerson.

"You know, at the party two weeks ago, he spent a lot of time talking to me? And you'd think it was great, because at the time it was, but then at school he just ignored me? As if we didn't spend three hours connecting? Like, who does that?"

Marko looked at me, clearly telling me that it was Michael Emerson who did that.

"Maybe it was because I was drunk and ran off to throw up, but still. How hard is it to get a guys attention?"

Marko shrugged. I agreed - it shouldn't have to be so hard. But even with his presence, even with his clothing suggestions - no matter what I did, Michael ignored me. I sighed as I pulled the bathtub into the barn again.

He nodded.

After that meal, Marko finally began to talk. His voice was hoarse, but he could tell me about him. How he enjoyed art, how he had been turned into a vampire in the early 1900s, how his vampire family was probably still alive. In the four hours that followed Michael's death, I couldn't help but realise I had never loved Michael. It was Marko. I wanted to make him happy. It was him I wanted by my side. I took his hand in mine as we walked down the forest towards his old grave.

"Shit. I can't just give you human blood, I mean, I wouldn't even know where to get it and -" he was already gone. Quickly, I ran after him, not wanting to abandon the creature I'd come to see as a close friend. He ran towards the boardwalk, the beach - and he found a lone man. Before I knew it, he had bitten the man, draining the blood out of him. It was over surprisingly quick.

The next evening, we spent some time outside the house, lounging on the roof, when I saw Michael riding up to the house on his bike. "What's he doing here?" I asked out loud, looking to see what was happening. Downstairs, the front door opened, and Trent stood there, grinning. Not only that, but within seconds, he was kissing Michael. I looked at it with wide eyes, before jumping off the roof and screaming.

"You motherfucker!" I launched at Trent. "You knew I liked him you fucking piece of-" I stopped when I heard a pained groan beside me. Marko held on to Michael's body. His teeth latched onto his neck, draining him dry. I looked at Marko, a small smile appearing on my face. I then looked at Trent, who was about to either scream or faint.

"You're going to be fine. Just don't tell anyone about this, alright?"

"We can try and find them?" I offered.

"They'd kill you upon sight."

"But you'd be reunited with them."

He chuckled. "You may not value your life, but I've come to value yours quite a lot."

I froze. "You do?"

"You saved me."

"I didn't mean to," I admitted. "It purely happened by accident."

"Happy accidents do exist."

I smiled, laughing when he pulled me close. "I think they do."

"Are you going with?"

"Sure. Do I need to bring the shovel?" I asked, a bit enthusiastically. Of course, killing was bad, I knew that, but there was something about it that gave me an indescribable thrill.

"Nah, we'll find a bonfire." He grinned as he took my hand, leading me towards the boardwalk and the beach.

I'd started a fire while he fed, enjoying the warmth of the flames when I suddenly felt a strange presence behind me.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing all alone?"

I looked at him. "Waiting for a friend."

"I can keep you company if he's running late."

"Don't worry, he's right on time." I grinned, knowing that Marko wouldn't say no to a second meal.

"Shame he isn't here yet, " the young man chuckled, "he might have enjoyed the sho-"

I screamed as he grabbed me, pulling my head to the side, feeling his teeth grazing my skin. I struggled in his grip, moving as much as I could, trying to hold him off when finally I heard his voice.

"Get the fuck off of her!"

Within seconds, I was freed. Marko was standing protectively in front of me, staring at the other vampire. "Paul?"

"Marko? You - you were dead, man! How did this happen?"

"Lisa did. She's a bloody Saint-" I groaned at his pun. "- If it hadn't been for her, I'd be buried still."

"So you saved my mate?"

"Your mate?" I spat the words out. Marko could have told me something about that before leading me on. For weeks he'd been sharing a bed with me, for weeks I'd helped him kill and cover up, for weeks we'd been circling around each other, and now?

"You didn't tell her?" Paul asked, and then he looked at me again, a look of compassion but also curiosity in his eyes.

"Tell me what?"

"Only a mate can save a vampire from the death." Marko said. His eyes softened as he turned towards me. "I didn't want to overwhelm you more than I already did that first night."

"What does it mean being your mate?"

"So, how is he-" I pointed at Paul, "- connected to us?"

"You're one of the loves of my life."

"Aaawh!" I grinned. "That's why you killed Michael? For us?"

Marko chuckled and nodded.

"He's also my mate. And yours."

I grinned. Sure, him almost eating me was quite bad - but if you looked past that, he seemed to really care about Marko, and maybe he could also do that for me?

"So... we - the three of us? We're a thing?"

"We can be," Paul said with an enthusiastic grin. "If you want that is."

"How about I get to know you first?" I asked, smiling as Marko stood next to me. Paul chuckled. "Want to go out for a kill?"

#the lost boys #marko #david #paul #tlb #dwayne #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #star #the lost boys x reader #lisa frankenstein #lisa frankenstein spoilers #marko x paul x reader #marko x reader

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sweetheartsaku · 1 month

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—love and deepspace rafayel ; like a song ive never listened to but i know every lyric

a/n ; [fem!reader] @oracleofstars DAY 3 PROMPT AND FIRST LND POST WOOHOO doing this one bc im in band huhuhuhu :3c

larkspur !

concerts have always felt like a fever dream.

and the absolute tingle down your spine when you managed to swiftly choose and buy front-row tickets to THE 3VOLS concert?? your heart was basically beating out of your chest. to make your heart even tighter, a little pop-up had appeared on your laptop screen basically screaming at you: "DON'T LEAVE AFTER THE CONCERT ♡" in rafayel's iconic handwriting, with its own messy yet neat flare to it. one of your favourite members.

you wonder what a singer like him could possibly be doing after a concert as big as this. especially for a smaller artist like him, maybe he wanted to get to know what his fans are like? a social experime-

the cold breeze of your open window kisses your cheek causing you to snap out of your daze. your cream curtain had been blowing fresh air, it made you feel more alive, especially having it slightly open in the early mornings. the sunlight would bleed into the curtains onto your sheets and the early bustling of the beautiful city would awaken.

a small blue jay chirps outside, and your phone chimes reminding you to bring your purse.

you slot your gentle lip tint and wallet, your phone's little dangling charms clinking with all the other knick-knacks in your purse. and for the final touch, the little rafayel chibi keychain attached with a beaded charm you had bought by impulse (listener like artist?).

you connect your white headphones sprinkled in stickers, playing his latest track. one of your favourites from their most recent single, Tip Toe.

"even better to be experienced live" you smiled, as you tap on your bus card. you take a seat nearest in-between the back and the middle, claiming your seat closest to the window.

you had always been drawn to the more charismatic, charming and... magnetic members. that one, being rafayel.

before you even knew it, you had already arrived at the bar it was set, a very cozy and warm atmosphere fills the air. there were people on the stage, setting up xavier's iconic deep red bass and zayne's pearly keytar. the stage was littered in little bits of glitter, and warm fairy lights.

a shiver of your heart knew this was going to be a magical experience.

placing your headphones around the strap of our bag, you stand in awe at the centre of the audience area, eyes shimmering. bejewelled.

suddenly a dark, veronica lilac shade came into sight.

rafayel.

"RAFAYEL?????" your mind was running laps, taken aback by the sudden sight of the man of your dreams in front of you, setting up his own mic still looking back backstage presumably talking to staff.

he was dressed in an unbuttoned white polo with a loose black tie on top, paired with worn out denim jorts and a pair of thick socks with leathery brown dress shoes.

ohmygoodness.

they weren't wrong when they said he was prettier in real life. to make it even worse, you were one of the only people in that standing area.

"oh? you must be early. we still have an hour or so till' the show starts." he tilts his head towards you, looking back down at his mic

"e-eh?! you're talking to... me?!" you lock your eyes with his lilac ones, and gain composure.

"i mean... well yeah. i prefer to get to events early!!" you smile.

he looks back up, impressed by her gentle demeanour finding her cute being so shocked he was talking to her.

"well, that's good. and don't worry. i'm not some big celeb, just a guy who loves his band and has the eye for the arts, if i do say so myself. no need to be shy.", he chuckles.

oh wow. he's so much more charismatic in real life too. your ears become warm, thinking this is all a daze.

"well, i hope to see you in the crowd, hm?"

"yep! i'll be in the front row... chookas?"

"thank you. hope to see ya' after the show."

something about her... was different.

she was alluring. her soul... it was... beyond description. would he really believe in love at first sight after every other soul he's fallen for?

stealing glances at you throughout the concert, he notices your passionate aura and your shouts of the lyrics from the latest single, Tip Toe.

xavier finds himself noticing rafayel's eyes on you, he felt captivated, enchanted if you will, as he saw you sing to his music. xavier smiles to himself as he gets fired up for his solo part in the following 3 bars.

he had 3 songs left till he could finally interact with you again.

after the concert, 3VOLS bow and grin, feeling accomplished playing their latest single flawlessly. now, he just had to see if people payed attention to the pop up on the ticket site.

the small maintenance crew had efficiently set up the little tables filled with boxes, revealing little pouches containing little trinkets and freebies organised by the boys to express their gratitude for supporting and attending their concert and simply just enjoying their music. each little bag was organised by member, letting the people who had noticed the little pop up choose their favourite member's freebies.

you managed to get a early spot in the small crowd of people. peering over a shoulder, it seemed like they were having a small meet and greet.

ohmygoodness.

WERE TALKING TO THEM PERSONALLY AGAIN??? this cannot be real. PLEASE LET ME GET A TURN WITH RAFAYEL!!

the little crowd was progressively moving, now the time awaits on you to be able to have the opportunity to greet the first debuted member, xavier. he held hands with you, smiling as he directed his eyes towards rafayel.

DOES HE KNOW MY FAVOURITE IS RAFAYEL??

"oh, i noticed your little raf' keychain. its cute." he gleams. in reality, he knows rafayel has had an eye on you. little did you know, his eyes were still on you as you held hands with xavier.

you giggle, thanking him and interacting with zayne. you reach rafayel at the end of the table, and he automatically hands you the pouch of trinkets filled with little freebies chosen by rafayel himself.

"honestly, my eye for the arts makes my pouch one of the best decorated here." he playfully chuckles.

"hm... maybe. we'll see when i open it!"

"can't wait. did you enjoy the show?"

"oh my gosh of course!! my favourite had to be Tip toe. or Saturn, or WDYS... i can't choose!! oh and Over 85 was also re- oops. i just enjoyed the entire show! you did so well!!"

"i'm happy to hear that. the experience was magical for me too." he says as they exchange closed eye smiles.

you extend your hand and he laces his hands with yours, slightly cold fingertips sending a pang through your heart. you bid your goodbyes and thank you's, heart warm and mind at ease.

you exit the bar, taking in the deep night city air.

oh gosh. well that just happened.

you untie the little purple ribbon that embraced the little pouch. what came to your surprise, a little piece of paper had fallen out.

hm? what's thi-

you're cute. heres my number, ⌝

XXXX-XXX-XXX

i think i wanna get to know ya'.

⌞ xoxo, rafayel. ᡣ𐭩

larkspur, representing first love and sweet disposition.

your voice , ⌝

like a song i've never listened to

⌞ but i know every lyric.

#oracleofstars #mics : dear rafayel #rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel fluff #rafayel prompt #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #love and deepspace fluff #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace rafayel

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onlyonetifosi · 4 months

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Behind the camera -> chapter 8

<- previous series masterlist my main masterlist next ->

author note1: more yn/joris fluff 🥹🥹 based on charles los angeles vlog here

The warm California sun welcomed Charles Leclerc and his entourage as they stepped off the plane at Los Angeles International Airport. The city's vibrant energy and palm-lined streets signaled the beginning of a much-needed break for the Formula 1 driver and his companions.

"Ah, Los Angeles! It's good to be here," Charles exclaimed, stretching his arms wide.

Andrea, Charles’ trainer, nodded in agreement. "Sì, Los Angeles è sempre bello. È il momento di divertirsi" ( Los Angeles is always beautifuI) (t's time to have fun)

Joris, Charles's best friend and Yn's boyfriend, grinned. "Time for some fun, my friends!"

As they settled into their luxurious villa, Charles couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. "This is exactly what I needed, guys. A break from the racing world and some time to unwind," he said, a genuine smile on his face.

The group, which included Charles, Andrea, Joris, Charles's girlfriend Alexandra, Riccardo, and his wife Marta, as well as Antoine, Charles's photographer and videographer, headed to their hotel to drop off their bags. Charles couldn't help but glance at Yn, his twin sister, who was engaged in lively conversation with Alex.

"Hey, Yn, ready for some LA adventures?" Charles teased, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

Yn rolled her eyes. "Always ready, Charles. As long as you don't embarrass me too much, big brother"

The group's first activity was a friendly basketball game at a nearby court. Charles, not known for his basketball skills, tried his best to dribble and shoot hoops.

"Mon dieu, Charles, maybe stick to racing, tu es vraiment nul au basket!" Yn teased him, earning a laugh from the others.

Alexandra chuckled, also teasing him, "Yea, mon cher, maybe stick to the racetrack. Your skills on the court are... how do you say... not impressive."

Charles smirked, replying in kind, "Eh bien, at least I'm a world-class driver, not a basketball player. And Yn you think you’re very funny, Yn. Let's see you try" Charles replied, passing the ball to her.

After a few failed attempts, Yn admitted defeat. "Okay, maybe basketball is not my forte either, it's a twins thing"

The group decided to cool off with some ice cream, sharing laughs and stories. Charles couldn't help but admire the way Joris and Yn interacted—the subtle glances, the shared jokes. It was a reminder of the strong bond they all shared.

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

The following day, the group rented bikes and explored the iconic Venice Beach boardwalk. Charles and Alex shared a tandem e-scooter, while Yn sat on Joris's lap and with Andrea on another.

"Vous avez l'air tellement mignons ensemble!" Alexandra grinned. (You two look so cute together!)

Yn couldn't help but giggle as Joris wrapped his arms around her waist. "Looks like you guys are having fun," Charles shouted from behind them, causing them all to burst out laughing.

Yn blushed, playfully swatting her brother's arm. "Ignorez-lui, il est juste jaloux" Joris calms her before the two siblings start bickering (Ignore him, he’s just jealous)

"Bon, let the race begin!" Charles declared, revving the e-scooter engine.

Andrea struggled to keep up, and Yn couldn't stop giggling at his attempts. The Venice Beach adventure ended with a mini-race, with everyone enjoying the wind in their hair.

Next on the itinerary was a trip from Malibu to Universal Studios. Yn couldn't contain her excitement, especially when they entered The Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

"Charles, we need to buy wands!" Yn exclaimed, practically dragging him into Ollivanders.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Yn whispered, holding her wand and exploring the magical surroundings and Charles chuckled, indulging his sister's enthusiasm "You really are a fan, aren't you?"

Yn winked. "Always."

"Charles, you have to try the butterbeer! It's amazing!" she exclaimed, dragging him toward the Three Broomsticks.

"Alright, alright, I'll give it a go," Charles chuckled, letting Yn lead the way.

Meanwhile, Joris and Alexandra rushed behind them, especially behind Yn. "I can't believe we're here," Joris whispered

"Me neither, but it's magical and they seem so excited," she replied, high fiving him.

"Look at her, she's like a kid in a candy store," Alexandra remarked, her arm intertwined with Charles'’ when they finally reached the twins in a merchandise shop.

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

The group also spent another day at Six Flags, where Charles, Alex, and Yn attempted to persuade Andrea and Joris to go on some thrilling rides.

"I prefer the safety of solid ground," Joris insisted, while Andrea nodded in agreement.

Charles, not one to be deterred, grabbed Joris and Andrea by their arms and playfully dragged them towards the rides.

"Come on, guys! Live a little!" Charles exclaimed.

"Non, non, pas question," Andrea protested (No, no, out of the question)

Joris nodded in agreement. "We'll pass, thanks"

"Come on, Andrea, we'll hold your hand the whole time," Yn said with a grin.

Yn, ever the persuader, looked at Joris with puppy-dog eyes, "Allez, mon amour, just one ride!"

"Yeah, come on, guys! It's all in good fun," Alexandra urged, exchanging a glance with Yn.

Joris resisted, but Yn's persistence paid off. Andrea, on the other hand, was tougher to crack. Charles, feigning violence, grabbed Andrea and Joris by the collars, threatening with a smile, "You're coming with us, whether you like it or not!"

Andrea finally relented, and the four of them headed to the ride. As they waited in line, Charles couldn't resist teasing Andrea about his fear.

"Don't worry, Andrea, I'll protect you," he joked, wrapping an arm around his trainer.

Andrea rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the smile on his face.

The group's day ended with a whimsical game at the carnival section of Six Flags. A victorious throw won them two enormous plushie bananas. Gleefully, they engaged in a playful banana battle, filling the air with laughter and the occasional thud of soft impacts.

"Attention! Incoming banana attack!" Charles shouted unexpectedly.

Laughter echoed as bananas flew through the air, hitting targets with precision. Alexandra threatened Charles, "If you hit me one more time, you're sleeping on the couch tonight!"

"Banana warfare!" Charles laughed, dodging plushie projectiles.

And they engaged in a hilarious banana fight, Joris and Andrea being the main targets.

The evening continued with board games and ping pong. Charles and Andrea engaged in fierce ping pong battles, while Yn and Alexandra shared laughter and girly moments.

"Hey, Yn, let's go shopping tomorrow before we leave," Alexandra said, breaking Yn out of her thoughts.

Yn grinned. "I would love that"

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

The following morning, Alexandra and Yn set out for their much-anticipated shopping trip in the heart of Los Angeles. The city's famed boutiques and exclusive shops awaited their exploration. The sunlit streets beckoned them as they strolled, laughter and excitement filling the air.

Their first stop was a trendy boutique showcasing the latest in Los Angeles fashion. Racks adorned with colorful dresses, stylish accessories, and unique pieces lined the walls. Alexandra and Yn eagerly sifted through the racks, exchanging opinions and approving nods.

"I can't believe how different the styles are here," Yn remarked, holding up a vibrant sundress.

Alexandra nodded in agreement. "It's a whole new world of fashion. I love it!"

After finding some stylish additions to their wardrobes, the duo headed to Shepora, that promised exclusive and makeup brands that are not available in Europe.

Yn's eyes widened as she discovered the vibrant array of products, including makeup from House Glass, and other niche brands that had yet to make their way across the Atlantic.

"Alex, look at this! I've heard so much about this and now we can finally try it" Yn exclaimed, her excitement contagious.

Alexandra, equally thrilled, added a few items to her basket. "And House Glass! I've been dying to get my hands on their products. This is like a beauty paradise."

The duo then ventured into clothing stores that were exclusive to the United States. American Vintage, Brandy Melville, and Forever 21 were on their list, promising a unique shopping experience with styles not commonly found in their European wardrobes.

As they explored the racks of clothes and tried on various outfits, the two friends couldn't contain their joy. Yn found a bohemian-style dress at American Vintage that perfectly suited her taste, while Alexandra discovered a trendy jacket at Brandy Melville that she couldn't resist.

With bags full of fashionable finds and exclusive makeup and after a successful shopping spree, the duo met with the rest of the group for a leisurely lunch. They chose a charming outdoor cafe with a relaxed atmosphere, where the California sun cast a warm glow over the scene.The vibrant energy of Los Angeles seemed to follow them, making the meal even more enjoyable.

Charles, Joris, Andrea, Riccardo, Marta, and Antoine were eager to hear about the shopping escapades of the two ladies.

"So, how was the shopping spree, ladies?" Charles asked with a grin.

Yn laughed, "We may have gone a little overboard, but it's all worth it."

Yn and Alexandra couldn't stop sharing their excitement, showcasing their newfound treasures and makeup finds. The group laughed and exchanged stories, creating an atmosphere of camaraderie.

Charles, Joris, Andrea, and the others eagerly greeted Yn and Alexandra, curious about their shopping spoils. The table quickly became a showcase of vibrant fabrics and makeup palettes.

"Wow, those dresses are stunning!" Joris exclaimed, eyeing the bags.

"And look at these makeup goodies! You two are going to turn heads," Charles added with a grin.

"Looks like the shopping trip was a success," Joris remarked, his eyes twinkling.

As they settled into lunch, the conversation flowed seamlessly between bites of delicious California cuisine. Yn and Alexandra recounted their shopping adventures, sharing anecdotes about the unique styles and products they discovered.

"Next time, we're all going shopping together!" exclaimed Marta, glancing at the fashionable purchases.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the city of angels, the group bid farewell to the vibrant streets of Los Angeles. Early the next morning, they would embark on the next leg of their journey, heading to the Vegas Grand Prix.

The excitement in the air was palpable as they boarded the plane, their hearts still buzzing with the memories of the Californian adventure. Ahead lay the glittering lights of Las Vegas, where the roar of engines would once again take center stage in the world of Formula 1.

i hope you liked it and if you want to know more about joris and yn and the adventures they are going to follow stay tuned (drama coming soon)

taglist: @love4lando @gcldtom @im-mi @topguncultleader @celesteblack08 @reblog-princess @sunf1ower16

127 notes · View notes

the-bad-batch-baroness · 12 days

Note

Alright, and here's request #2

May I ask for Fives and Fox

with Prompt 14: Last Words

Where Fives is haunting Fox after his death. Where "the nightmares are over" is twisted to "the nightmare has just begun".

Girl, you helped me come up with this, you know what to write, lol

❤️ - @vodika-vibes

In Your Head

Fox

Summary: Fox has a hole in his memory that he can't seem to fix, and when he starts hallucinating about the clone he killed, it leads to dire consequences.

Pairing: none

Characters: Fox, Thorn, ghost!Fives

Tags & Warnings: character death, alcohol, drunkenness, hallucinations, paranoia, minor suicidal ideation, violence, whump

Word Count: 6.2k

Author's Note: First of all, I'm going to apologize for how long it's taken me to write one of these requests. Second, all of the requests are still sitting in my ask box. I haven't gotten rid of any of them and I still plan on writing all of them. It's just gonna take me a bit. To be honest, this fic is more Fox whump than Fives whump, but eh, it's still whump and it still includes one of the 501st boys, so that counts, right? As always, please enjoy 💚

Beta: @beating-a-dead-plot

Fox sits hunched over his desk and anxiously raps his stylus against the side of his data-pad. He's read the report five times now and each pass yields the same results. His CC number is littered throughout the paragraphs, but for the life of him, he can't remember any of it. He looks up at the chronometer again and shakes his head. Time has moved, but he hasn't. He's been sitting here at his desk doing flimsi-work since early morning, but the report states otherwise.

It's not just the strange lost time that concerns Fox either, or the fact that his CC number is in a report. That's normal. What bothers him about this report is the fact that it clearly states in paragraph four, line six, that he shot and killed a clone. And no matter how hard he racks his brain, he can't remember it. He hasn't moved from his desk, and yet, the timestamp puts the incident at an hour ago. An hour ago he was at his desk. An hour ago he was doing flimsi-work.

Fox raps his stylus faster and taps his foot to match the rhythm, the nervous energy in his body escaping through the repetitive movements. He wouldn't shoot a clone without a reason, would he? The Coruscant Guard has stunned countless rowdy and reckless, and even dangerous clones, but a brother doesn't shoot another brother with the intent to kill. That's not part of their culture. Even bad clones deserve to explain their actions, but those are few and far between.

It must be a mistake. A typo. There has to be a logical explanation as to why his CC number is in the report even though he wasn't there. Still, he has this odd sinking feeling scratching at the back of his mind that it might not be a mistake. The clone he allegedly shot was from the 501st, from Torrent Company. One of Rex's men. Fox sent a simple comm message to Rex, offering his condolence, but Rex's silence worries him. It's not like Rex to leave a comm unanswered.

Fox drops the data-pad onto his desk with a loud clack and his chair creaks when he leans back. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and brushes the damp curls out of his eyes. It must be a mistake. There is no other explanation. He doesn't have an explanation for the lost time, but there must be a reason for that as well. Maybe he fell asleep. It's not impossible since he doesn't get the best sleep. His caf is cold, so obviously time has passed since he last filled it.

The data-pad dings and Fox leans forward to see what the notification is for. He sighs and taps on the icon to open it, and his brows furrow as he reads the new information. A surveillance holo-recording of the incident is now available and has been attached to the report. Fox huffs. This should clear up everything. He taps the icon to play the recording and watches intently. It was probably some trigger-happy shiny that he'll have a stern talking to later on… but it's not.

Fox's breath hitches and his eyes widen. That's not some random corrie. That's him. That's his armor. He has the fleeting thought that someone stole his armor and impersonated him, but he quickly realizes he's still wearing it. He hasn't taken it off since he put it on this morning. Panic rises in his gut and he continues to watch the recording. He flinches at the moment he pulls the trigger. A blaster bolt leaving the barrel instead of a stun bolt. He killed him. He killed a brother.

That explains why Rex never commed him back. Rex's emotional plea, Fox don't, stabs him in the heart, turning his innocent condolence message into him just rubbing salt into an egregious wound. The report noted the clone killed as ARC-5555 – Fives – one of Rex's best. Fox only remembers the name because Rex sent him a holo-photo of his two new ARC troopers when they graduated. Rex was so proud. Then he lost one on Lola Sayu, and today, he lost the other.

Fox has seen and read enough. It was him, he knows that much, but he still doesn't remember being there. He doesn't remember aiming his blaster, or flicking the safety off, or giving a warning, or pulling the trigger. It's like he was sleep walking, even though not a single clone out of millions has ever been noted to do so on record. He finds it even more odd that he was on scene for the shooting and then left. It's not like him to leave a scene without getting statements or starting his report. Now that he thinks about it, he didn't even write this report. Who did?

Fox yells in frustration and kicks the leg of his desk. Why can't he remember? How could he forget he shot and killed a brother. How could he forget Rex's voice begging him not to? How could he forget leaving his office and coming back? Fox feels sick. Not only did he kill a brother, he killed one of Rex's. A beloved brother. With Rex's radio silence, he probably lost Rex too. Fox doesn't blame him. Not after watching the footage. He would hate himself too, and he does.

Fox pulls a ring of keys from his belt pouch and inserts one into the lock on the bottom desk drawer. It clicks and he pulls it open, revealing a small stash of alcohol resting against the back. The glass bottles clink as he searches for a specific one. Finding it, he pulls it out of the drawer and places it on his desk. He leans down to grab a glass, hesitates, then closes the drawer without taking it. He twists the cap off the bottle, grabs the neck, and tilts the opening to his lips.

"Fox?" Thorn whispers as he peeks into the dark office. "Are you in here?"

Fox groans in response. His torso rests on top of his desk and the side of his face lays on the cool surface with one hand loosely wrapped around an almost empty glass bottle.

Thorn sighs and shakes his head. "What are you doing, Fox?"

"Go away," Fox slurs. His body twitches at the sudden exertion.

Thorn ignores Fox's inebriated order and pulls up a chair to sit opposite Fox's desk.

"Talk to me," Thorn says.

"Nothin'... to talk about," Fox answers.

"You're drunk while on duty," Thorn says. He grabs the bottle out of Fox's loose grip and sets it out of reach. "Why don't we start with that?"

Fox slowly picks his head up to look at Thorn, and he struggles to keep it steady. "Usen'ye," he says, then lays his head back down onto the desk making the room stop spinning.

Thorn taps his fingers against the desk's surface next to Fox's head and Fox flinches at the magnified sound. "I read the report."

Fox groans, but this time with more indignation.

Thorn crosses his arms and sits back in his chair. "I've got all night."

"You're so… annoying," Fox slurs as he slowly picks his head back up to look at Thorn. "You know… that?"

Thorn smirks. "Part of my charm."

"Karking… banthas… have more charm," Fox says, his head swaying as he tries to keep it upright. "You're ugly… too."

Thorn rolls his eyes. "You're getting off topic."

"Why… are you… even here?" Fox asks. He reaches for the bottle and Thorn leans over to move it again.

"You killed a vod," Thorn says.

Fox huffs. "What... do you… know about it?"

"Nothing," Thorn says. "That's why I'm here. To talk to you about it, because clearly it's affecting you."

Fox reaches for the bottle again and Thorn moves it. "I'm… not effective."

"Yeah, I can see that," Thorn raises an eyebrow. "You can't even talk straight."

"Blow it out your… exhaust port," Fox sneers, then reaches for the bottle once more.

"Really?" Thorn asks, as he lifts the bottle up out of Fox's reach. "If I give you the bottle back, will you talk to me?"

Fox smirks through hooded eyes. "Sure."

Thorn places the bottle back down onto the desk and pushes it towards Fox. Fox grabs it, sits back in his chair, and shoots the last burning drops down his throat, then slams the empty bottle down onto the desk.

"Talk," Thorn says. "Why'd you kill a vod?"

Fox chuckles. "I don't know."

Thorn's eyes darken. "This isn't a game, Fox."

"Nah," Fox says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Games… are fun. This... This isn't..."

Thorn tilts his head to the side and studies Fox for a moment. Even drunk, Fox usually makes some sense, but this particular time he's making zero sense. It's not that hard of a question, but his avoidance in answering it is making Thorn worry. There's something Fox isn't telling him and he needs to know what it is in order to help him get out of this slump and back to normal. Having a drunk Marshall Commander leading the Coruscant Guard is going to get them nowhere fast.

"Fox," Thorn prods.

"Don't Fox me," Fox spits in response. "How'd you… like it… if I said your name? Thorn. Thorn. Thorn. Thorn–"

"Alright, I get it," Thorn interjects. "Just tell me what happened."

"I don't know," Fox lazily shrugs.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Thorn asks.

"I don't remember," Fox says.

"You don't remember shooting a vod?" Thorn asks, narrowing his eyes.

"Nope," Fox says, making a popping sound on the second consonant.

Thorn pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "You have to remember something? You killed him. Don't you remember that? Were you drunk then, too?"

"No, I wasn't drunk," Fox says, his agitation growing at the continued questioning. "I just don't remember!" He pounds his fists on the desk, making Thorn flinch.

"Easy, vod," Thorns soothes and reaches out a hand to try and calm him down. "It's okay."

"No!" Fox yells with a jerk as he weakly bats Thorn's hand away. "Is not. I shot… a vod. I killed… a vod, and I can't… kriffin' remember!"

Thorn realizes he's not going to get anywhere with Fox being this drunk and worked up, so he decides to cut his losses and try again later. "Get some rest," he says before getting up from his chair. He looks down at Fox's dilapidated state, shakes his head, then turns to leave.

"Bring me… more booze," Fox demands.

Thorn turns around and scoffs. "You don't need any more of that."

Fox grabs the empty bottle and throws it towards Thorn, but it hits the wall by the door instead and shatters into a million pieces. "Shabuir," Fox snarls.

Thorn sighs. "We'll talk again when you're sober." He turns back towards the door and leaves Fox alone in his office.

Fox grumbles and lays his heavy head back down against the cool desk. He's not really angry at Thorn, as annoying as he is. No. He's angry at himself. Angry that he can't remember what his own two hands did. Angry that he can't remember where his own two feet took him. Angry that his brain won't put all of the pieces together or fill in the blanks. Where did his memory go? Did it grow legs and walk away from him? Did it leave him or did he leave it? Is that even possible?

Fox would stay laying against his desk all night if he could, but the ache in his back is beginning to overpower his drunken haze. Part of getting old, he guesses. He needs to try and make it to his couch where he can stretch out and fall asleep. At least while asleep he won't have to think about it. That was the idea behind the alcohol in the first place; drink to forget, but it didn't have the effect he was hoping for. If anything, it only made it worse. Then Thorn butted in and ruined it.

Fox tries to peel himself off of his desk, but his body is heavy. He manages to sit up, but then slumps back into his chair, whacking his head against the back of it. He groans at the pain and rubs the spot. When he opens his eyes, the room is spinning, and it makes him feel sick. Well, sicker than he already felt before he was drunk. He chuckles to himself. The good stuff was really good. He hasn't been this drunk since he was a shiny new commander hot off Kamino.

Trying again, Fox plants his hands squarely on his desk and rocks to push himself out of the chair. He tries once and can't get it. He tries twice and still can't get it. He tries thrice and finally he's on his feet, although he uses a little too much force and falls forward onto the desk. Maybe it's better if he crawls to the couch instead of walking there. He lets the weight of his lower body slide the rest of him off the desk until he's sitting on the ground and leaning against the desk.

He leans past the desk and turns his head to see where the couch is, but he leans a little too far and slumps over onto the ground. He groans. This was a terrible idea. He wishes he could get Thorn to come back and carry him to the couch, but that would bruise his ego into an irreparable state. No, he has to make it on his own. With a little wiggle of his hips, Fox rolls himself onto his stomach and crawls towards the couch. Usually, it's closer, but right now it feels klicks away.

Maker, he's tired. Why did he have to put the couch so far away from his desk? Or better yet, why can't it come to him? You'd think someone would've invented a moving couch by now, but no, the Galactic Republic is too busy making clones to do anything of real use in his lifetime. And yet, Fox continues to crawl towards his couch, cursing it every time he scoots closer. With one final push, he makes it, but accidentally bumps his head against the leg. He curses it again.

Now, it's just a matter of hoisting himself up onto the stupid thing so he can finally go to sleep. Once again, something that used to be so trivial is causing him grief. Why is it so high up? Why is the floor so far down? Why won't the room stop spinning? He wishes he could steady himself long enough to get a grip, but his body is heavy from the alcohol. However, with a little more effort and a lot more cursing, Fox grabs one of the cushions, pulls himself up, and flops onto the couch.

Thank the Maker, he finally made it. Fox rolls off of his stomach and situates himself with his back against the back of the couch so he doesn't suffocate himself within the couch cushions. Although, at this point, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. He chuckles to himself about the thought. Thorn would kill him. He would find some way into the afterlife and kill him again for being such an idiot. Although, to him, it's a comforting thought; Thorn coming after him like that.

Even if Fox hates to admit it, Thorn is still his best friend. Some days they absolutely can't stand each other, but when push comes to shove, there's no one he'd rather have his back in this war. Perks of growing up together, he figures. Fox releases a wide yawn that makes his stomach churn, but he's happy that his body wants to rest. With a few slow breaths, he lets himself drift off to sleep, wondering if he'll wake up and finally remember or if his memory will still be adrift.

Fox groans as he stirs from his sleep. He slowly opens one eye and sees that it's still dark out, which means either he slept until the next evening or he barely slept at all. He doesn't feel drunk anymore, so maybe he did sleep for a while; an absolute miracle. Even more surprising is the fact that no one bothered him while he slept, which also means Thorn kept everyone away and covered for him. The idiot. He'll need to apologize and thank Thorn the next time he sees him.

Fox carefully shifts to sit himself up, holding the side of his head as it pounds from the hangover. He hasn't had a hangover like this in a very long time. He'll have to look at the label on the bottle and get himself another one of whatever it was. Blinking a few times to get rid of the glaze over his eyes, he looks around the room, but frowns when he sees the broken glass by the door. Oh yeah. I broke it. Guess he won't be buying another one of those anytime soon. What a shame.

With a deep breath, Fox hoists himself up off the couch and grabs the arm to steady his shaky legs. He doesn't feel woozy, but his body still feels heavy, like there are rocks in his head weighing him down. He rolls his neck, then his shoulders, and then arches his back to stretch it out. One of his vertebrae makes a popping sound and he groans. Even though he tried to lie down in a good position, couch-sleep is still not as nice as a bunk. He needs some ibuprofen.

Fox hobbles his way to the refresher connected to his office, and is, once again, thankful for the amenities he has access to as the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. It would be embarrassing to walk down to the guard barrack's communal refresher to compose himself. Thorn would get a good laugh, though, the jerk. He'd say something stupid just to piss him off. But that's the game they play, because Fox has embarrassed Thorn on multiple occasions too.

Fox steps into the refresher without flipping the light switch on, and twists the faucet knob to run the water cold. He cups the rushing water in his hands and splashes it onto his face. The cool water feels good on his hot skin and soothes his throbbing headache. He does that a few more times, and then one last good splash that he smooths over his unruly curls. He pats his face with the towel and stares at himself in the mirror, except something about his reflection is… off.

Fox rubs the towel across his face again, thinking he has some water stuck in his eyes making his vision blurry, but the reflection still looks odd. He then uses the towel to wipe down the mirror, leaving small streaks of water where he swiped, but that doesn't clear it either. Refusing to play with it any longer, Fox opens the mirror cabinet and grabs the bottle of ibuprofen. He pops a few and swallows them dry, wincing as he feels them go down his throat, then closes the cabinet.

Hi Fox , a voice says.

Fox startles and stumbles back, crashing against the opposite wall with a loud thud. "Kriff, Thorn!" Fox exclaims. He turns his head towards the refresher door to rip Thorn a new one, but he's not there. "Thorn?" he calls, but there's no answer. He peeks his head out of the refresher to see if there's anyone in his office, but it's still dark and empty. It's just him. He's never had a hangover that made him hear things before… he thinks. Fox's heart races with adrenaline.

Fox , the voice says.

Fox flinches at the sound of his name, and whips his head around to try and figure out who's calling him, but there's still no one there. "Thorn," Fox says. "I swear to the Maker, I will kill you."

So, you like to kill, huh? the voice says.

Fox freezes, his blood running cold. He didn't just hear that, did he? The sound of another clone talking to him, but he's still alone in the refresher. His instincts are screaming for him to run and find Thorn, because clearly he's hallucinating, or sick, or dying, or all three at once. He shouldn't be hearing voices, or at least he doesn't think he should be hearing voices. Fox closes his eyes and takes a couple deep breaths to calm himself and just hopes that whatever it is will go away.

It's rude to ignore people, you know , the voice says. Especially dead people.

Yup, he's crazy. He's one hundred percent certified crazy now. Not only is he hearing voices, but he's hearing voices of the dead . What did he do while he was drunk and asleep? Conjure a demon? Summon a spirit? Invite a deity to chat over some caf? How did he even do that? The other option is that he's still plastered and is hallucinating being sober. Honestly, both ideas sound equally as insane, but do they really make any less sense than him hearing voices?

"Whatever you are," Fox begins with a nervous voice, "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm going back to bed now."

Fox pushes himself off the wall and walks towards the refresher door to leave, but it slides shut before he can exit. He stares at the closed door and takes another deep breath, then releases it slowly. He slides his hands over his holsters, but the blasters are missing. They must have fallen out while he was sleeping and he didn't notice. He kicks himself for being so absentminded to leave them on the couch, but in his defense there aren't many who'd attack him in his own office.

Fox runs his tongue across his teeth and puffs his chest out before turning around to face whatever it is that's messing with him, but when he does, there's no one else in the refresher besides him. He bites his lip and nods his head. It must be a dream. He's living in a dream and he can't wake up. That has to be the answer. There's no other explanation. Once he wakes up, he's going to find Thorn and make him get rid of all of his liquor, because this isn't worth the trip.

I'm still waiting , the voice says impatiently. Are you gonna answer me or not?

Fox grits his teeth and thinks for a moment. If he answers the voice of the dead, is something bad going to happen to him? It's not like his life could get any worse. He's a dog of the Republic, he's shot and killed a brother, and he's probably the most hated commander in the GAR. There's not much else they can do to him. Fox startles at a sudden realization. The voice of the dead… a dead clone. Voice of the dead… killed. Fox's heartbeat pounds ferociously in his ears.

He takes a few steps towards the sink and peers into the mirror, the same mirror where his reflection didn't look right. He was so groggy when he first came in the refresher that it didn't dawn on him what in the reflection was off, just that it didn't look right. He stares at his reflection, and tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he studies the image, but his eyes grow wide when he realizes that the reflection didn't follow the tilt of his head. He moves in closer.

Boo , the reflection says with a smirk.

"Kriffin' osik!" Fox screams and out of reflex he punches the mirror, cracking it. He heaves in his breaths and pulls his fist back from the mirror, his glove protecting his skin from getting cut by the broken shards.

The reflection sighs and side steps into the part of the mirror that isn't as broken. Really? the reflection asks.

Fox is on the verge of hyperventilating. Fear and adrenaline taking control of every muscle in his body. His reflection is talking to him. It's moving without him. But it's not even him. He can clearly see that now. Fox takes a moment to study the image in the mirror. The armor is white, like a shiny's, their head is shaven, they have a goatee, and an Aurebesh tattoo on their right temple not far from a small linear scar. Fox's jaw drops. It's him. It's the clone he shot and killed.

Figure it out yet? the reflection asks, almost bored.

"You're…" Fox tries to speak, but he's still unsure of what he's actually seeing.

The name's Fives , the reflection says while tapping his Aurebesh tattoo. You should remember, since you killed me.

Fox is speechless and wide-eyed. He feels sick to his stomach. He knows who Fives is, but he still doesn't remember shooting him. He's never met him, and the only images he has are of him in his ARC armor, not whatever it is he's wearing now. Fox thinks back to the recording that was attached to the report, and remembers seeing himself shoot the white-armored clone. He did find it strange at the time, and it made him wonder why, but not enough to hallucinate about him.

"This isn't real," Fox says as he backs away from the mirror. "You're not real! You're dead !"

The reflection snorts. What? No remorse? No, sorry I killed you?

"I don't remember killing you!" Fox yells, half in shock and half in self-defense. His back touches the hard durasteel wall and he slides down it until he's sitting on the floor.

Don't remember? the reflection asks. You shot me! How could you forget that?

Fox pulls his knees to his chest, clasps his hands over his ears, and squeezes his eyes shut. "Just leave me alone!" he yells again, trying to make the voice go away. "I said I don't remember!"

I'm not leaving , the voice says. Not until you remember what you did to me.

"Go away!" Fox practically screams. "Leave me alone!" His breathing becomes labored and he feels like he's going to pass out. "This is… a nightmare."

Oh, Fox , the reflection chuckles, then pushes out of the mirror and folds its arms to lean on the edge of the sink and stare down at Fox. Your nightmare has just begun.

The next rotation has Fox feeling insane. The voice inside the mirror isn't just a voice anymore. It's a full body apparition that follows him around wherever he goes. He can't even take a piss without that thing watching him. He still wonders if it's the actual Fives or if it's just a figment of his imagination; maybe the subconscious part of his brain conjured it up because of the guilt he feels for killing the clone. He wants to tell Thorn about it, but even Thorn has limits on disbelief.

Hour after hour, the apparition asks if he remembers killing it yet, and hour after hour, Fox still has the same answer – no. Maker, he wishes it would just take a hike and go haunt someone else, even if it's just for a couple of minutes. There's nothing worse than trying to work or sleep while it watches him from across the room with its dark, cold, dead eyes and smug expression. If this is the real Fives, then he doesn't understand why Rex liked him so much.

Although, today has been strangely quiet. The apparition is nowhere to be seen, or heard, and Fox is taking the much needed alone time to catch up on the reports he's been neglecting since it first appeared. It must have been a figment of his imagination brought on by stress or something along those lines. There's always a logical explanation for everything, or so he thinks. Fox looks up from his data-pad when he hears a soft knock on his office door frame.

"I brought you some caf," Thorn says with a friendly smile. "Can I come in?"

Fox nods.

Thorn walks into the office, places the cup down in front of Fox, and sits on the corner of his desk.

Fox grabs the cup of hot, black caf and deeply inhales its alluring aroma. "Is this a peace offering?"

Thorn snorts. "You should be bringing me a peace offering for all that name calling."

Fox winces at the vague memory, then takes a sip. "Sorry."

"Apology accepted," Thorn says. "You're still a di'kut, though."

"So are you," Fox smirks.

Is he a friend of yours? the apparition asks as it appears next to Fox.

Fox startles and accidentally drops the cup of caf onto his lap. "Kriff!"

Thorn also startles and jumps off the corner of Fox's desk. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Fox sighs. "Just grab me a towel, will ya?"

Thorn walks off towards the refresher to grab a towel.

He seems like a nice vod , the apparition says as it watches Thorn with interest. Is he your best friend?

Fox chooses to ignore the question and the ghost.

You know , the apparition continues. It hops up on the desk to sit in front of Fox, its legs dangling over the edge. I had a best friend once – actually two. They're both dead, now… Like me. Must be nice to have yours still alive, huh?

Fox glares at the apparition and snarls. "Don't you touch him!"

The apparition chuckles. I'm a ghost, remember? I can't even touch you. The apparition reaches out to touch Fox, but its hand goes straight through him. See? I'm not going to hurt your friend.

Fox continues to glare, not fully trusting what the apparition says. Thorn is his best friend, but this is his issue to deal with, and he's not going to drag Thorn down this insane hole of guilt and self-loathing with him. Even so, it would be great if Thorn could see the apparition too. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so crazy about the whole situation. A little validation goes a long way in his mind. He just needs Thorn to see it once, then he can feel safe again, feel normal again.

"Fox?" Thorn asks in concern while handing him the towel. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Fox grabs the towel and pats himself and the chair dry. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Thorn isn't convinced, but doesn't argue.

I'm not fine , the apparition says. I'm dead .

Fox wants to say something in rebuttal, but Thorn's lack of comment about the elephant in the room makes him wonder. He turns his head to the apparition and then to Thorn, and then back again. "You don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" Thorn asks, a confused expression on his face.

"Nothing," Fox sighs and tosses the towel onto the desk before slumping back into his chair. "Nevermind."

"Fox," Thorn begins hesitantly. "I think you should see a medic. You've been acting strange lately and I'm worried."

Yeah, Fox , the apparition adds. You should see a medic for that missing memory issue . Maybe they can tell you why you killed me.

"I don't need a medic!" Fox exclaims. Thorn flinches and Fox bites his tongue. "Sorry. I'm just tired is all."

Thorn still isn't convinced, but he sighs and shakes his head. "Alright, I trust your judgment."

I don't , the apparition says. You shot me .

"Thanks," Fox says. His eye twitches. It's hard enough to keep his thoughts straight, but it's even harder when he has two people talking to him at once and only one of them is actually there.

"I'm here if you need me," Thorn says as he places a hand on Fox's shoulder. "Even if you just want to talk."

You can talk to me too , the apparition says.

"I appreciate that," Fox says, trying to give him his best fake smile.

Thorn throws Fox another look of concern, but turns and leaves his office all the same.

Fox immediately turns his attention to the apparition. "Can you just shut up?!"

No , the apparition says. That's the whole point of haunting. I'm supposed to be annoying.

Fox drops his head onto his desk and yells in frustration.

The apparition hops off the desk and kneels so it's face is on Fox's level. Just tell me why you killed me, Fox, it whispers. And I'll go away .

Fox clutches the sides of his head. "I'm trying," he chokes out. "But I can't remember."

It's been a week and Fox is on the verge of losing himself. He can't sleep. He can't eat. He can't do anything. The reports are piling up and questions are being asked. Thorn continues to check on him, and he appreciates it, but he wishes he'd stay away from him. Every time Thorn comes into his office, the apparition stares at him like he's a piece of meat. Fox knows the apparition can't hurt Thorn, at least, that's what he's been made to believe, but what if he's wrong?

He can't let it get Thorn, too. It can torment him all it wants, actually, it can even kill him if it wants, but he will not let anything happen to Thorn. Thorn is too good for this kind of torturous hell. Thorn hasn't killed any clones. He probably hasn't killed anyone . There's no reason for Thorn to be brought into this. It's him that the apparition wants. Its blood is on his hands, not Thorns. Thorn has nothing to do with any of this and Fox will do anything to protect him.

Hi Fox , the apparition says while leaning against the door frame of the office.

"What do you want?" Fox sneers from where he sits behind his desk.

The truth , the apparition says with a smug grin. You've been keeping it from me.

"Like I've said," Fox says. "I still don't remember."

Not good enough , the apparition says as it pushes itself off the door frame and approaches Fox's desk.

"I won't let you hurt Thorn," Fox says as he stands up.

What are you talking about? the apparition asks.

"Don't play dumb with me!" Fox exclaims. "I know you're going to hurt him to get back at me."

Are you alright, Fox? the apparition taunts. You seem a little off today.

"Get out of my head!" Fox yells as he clutches the sides of his head. "I know what you're doing!"

What's the matter? the apparition taunts. I've never seen you so unhinged before.

"Leave me alone!" Fox yells.

C'mon, Fox, the apparition walks closer. Tell me.

Fox draws one of his blasters and points it towards the ghostly figure. "Get away from me!"

Whoa, there, the apparition says, putting its hands up and taking a single step back. There's no need for that.

Fox breathes heavily. "I'm warning you!"

You won't shoot me, the apparition smirks. You have no reason to shoot me. Put the blaster down, Fox.

"I won't let you hurt him!" Fox yells, then fires a single bolt through the same spot as before, on the apparition's chest, through its heart. He watches as the apparition falls to its knees and clutches at its chest. That'll stop it. That'll shut it up. That'll make it leave him alone. That'll keep it from hurting– Thorn?

Fox pants with exasperation as his senses begin to clear. The vision of the apparition slowly dissipates, leaving behind the image of Thorn grasping at the hole in his chest. A look of pain, shock, horror, and confusion painted on his face as he looks at Fox. No. No, this can't be happening. He didn't. He couldn't. Did he shoot his best friend? It was the ghost. The ghost was right there. It was talking to him. It was taunting him. It was going to hurt Thorn.

"Fox," Thorn gasps. "Why?"

At the sound of Thorn's voice, the gravity of what Fox has done hits him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widen and his voice quivers. "Thorn."

Thorn collapses forward onto the floor and Fox rushes to his side.

"No, no, no, no," Fox rambles as he pulls his brother into his lap and applies pressure to the wound. "I need a medic!" he yells. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I didn't know it was you. There was a ghost and it was in my head and I couldn't remember." Tears begin to well in Fox's eyes as he tries desperately to explain.

Thorn reaches up a hand to touch Fox's cheek and Fox grabs it with his own.

"I'm… sorry," Thorn says weakly. "I… wish… I… could've… helped… you…" Thorn's hand drops as his body goes limp and he breathes his last breath.

"Where's my medic!" Fox yells, tears now streaming down his face unabated. "Hang on, vod." He pulls his brother's lifeless body close to his chest and rocks him back and forth. "Please, don't go. Don't leave me."

The apparition appears once again, crouches down in front of Fox, and looks apathetically at Thorn's lifeless body. It shakes its head. And to think all of this could've been avoided if you would've just told me what I wanted to know.

Fox looks at the apparition with murderous intent.

A vod for a vod , the apparition says with a smirk. At least you'll remember this one.

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

AO3

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