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littlcdarlin · 1 month ago

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My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 || read on AO3

summary: Reader goes on a beach vacation with Joel after her father breaks his leg. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, sexual tension, blow jobs, smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair (will add more as I add more parts)

note: The devil works fast but I work faster. New multi chapter smut fic inspired by those damn new Pedro pics in the works…enjoy part 1! I haven't planned all of the smut scenes, so if you have any requests for specific kinks/scenes, do let me know!

He’s dead fucking wrong. You love your father, enough to not immediately say no, but he’s wrong. It’s true you could use a girls’ trip, perhaps even a couple of days out of town with your Dad, and he’s not entirely off about university being the death of you, kiddo – you’ve spent one too many nights inhaling coffee and cramming for your finals. The idea of an all-inclusive trip is tempting, given the fact that all you manage to eat these days is pasta and store-bought pesto, if that.

Nevertheless, you need to keep studying, there’s less than two weeks left until your exams, and although the trip is only a couple of days, you don’t know Joel.

Sure, you’ve been to his barbecues, and he let you use his bike one year when yours was stolen and your Dad refused to buy you a new one, because you should have locked it up in the first place. You know how he patched up your Dad after the divorce – you never worried about your mother, who was heartbroken, but able to talk about it to her family and friends. Your Dad was the one you spent sleepless nights over. The way the beer bottles accumulated in his garage, how distant he seemed on the phone. You know it was Joel who looked after him, made sure he left the house and had anything edible inside it. You’re grateful for it, you are, but you don’t really know him. For most of your life, he has been a friendly smile and wave over a fence, and you’re shy around people you know much better than the occasional hey kid, you back for the summer? or if you see your Dad, tell him I borrowed his screwdriver, I’ll put it back tomorrow.

You do feel slightly guilty your Dad can’t go on his trip. He broke his leg, and although it’s not entirely your fault he slipped, you had been the one to mop the stairs right before the accident. As much as your Dad was looking forward to his vacation, after a week he had to admit a beach holiday would be little fun with a whole leg in plaster.

You sigh, staring at your phone screen, tapping on it every once in a while to keep it from turning black. He’s expecting an answer soon, you know he is. Who the hell books non-refundable trips anyway? When you get the time, you’ll need to tell him about a lovely invention that is insurance.

You glance over at the stack of unfinished coursework on your desk, your laptop taunting you with its quiet – no responses to the millions of job applications you have sent out have come through. At this rate, you’ll be jobless in a couple of months, when you finish your degree. You’ll have to live with either of your parents forever, no money for any sort of vacation whatsoever.

"Oh, screw it,“ you mutter, unlocking your phone, and typing quickly.

I’ll do it. Only because my A+ cleaning is the reason you can’t go. Tell Joel to bring something to read, I need to study.

***

"It’d be a shame if it went to waste, kiddo, I’m glad you’re doing this.“

"Yeah,“ you answer, thinking of the endless powerpoint slides you haven’t even looked at yet. "Maybe studying at the beach works wonders.“

There’s a knock on the door, and you move to open it, your Dad chained to his chair by his broken leg. You’re not particularly excited about the smalltalk you’ll have to make with your Dad’s friend, but if you remember correctly, Joel is as much the quiet type as you are, and might actually appreciate your studying. Great, you think, at least one of us will enjoy it, then.

When you open the door, the first thing that strikes you is how hard you find it to envision Joel at the beach – he’s all mountains and trees to you, with his lumberjack boots and flannel shirt. His smile is friendly, and only gains warmth when he notices the critical look you give his outfit.

"I know,“ he says, voice deep and quiet, "I’m king of dressing for the occasion.“

You grin, and open the door wider.

"Come on in. Dad’s in the living room. What’s with the…uh…“

Your voice trails off, as you gesture towards his distinctly un-vacationy clothes.

"Thought you might bail,“ Joel answers easily, stepping into the house. "Can’t imagine you’re overly thrilled about this.“

You think about denying it, but this is your chance to come clean about how you would much prefer keeping to yourself and preparing for your finals, so you sigh.

"Well, it’s kinda my fault Dad was, like, almost paralyzed from the neck down, so I figured the least I could do was not let his trip go to waste. I’ve got finals in two weeks, so the timing is…suboptimal.“

"Yeah, your Dad said. I brought reading material, so I won’t bother you too much.“

He’s easy, you realize. Easy to talk to, and easy to accept your reluctance to bond with an almost-stranger, quick to make you feel comfortable by hinting at that boundary. You smile back, and are struck by how he holds your eye contact until you break it yourself, nodding towards your suitcase.

"Think this will fit inside the car?“

"Sure,“ he answers, "I’ve got a Bronco.“

You have no idea what that means, but you assume it’s a good thing, so you smile vaguely.

"It’s an SUV,“ Joel explains with a hint of good-natured amusement in his voice.

"Right,“ you say, attempting to overplay your obvious lack in car-knowledge, "SUV. One of the big ones.“

It makes Joel smile again, and you notice the wrinkles around his eyes that make his face look all sunny.

"Yeah,“ he says. "One of the big ones.“

You lead him into the living room to say good-bye to your Dad, who’s expression is a weird mixture of sombre and excited at the sight of his daughter and best friend getting ready to drive to the airport.

"Take care of her, Joel,“ he says, when you’re getting ready to leave.

"Don’t worry,“ Joel answers with a pat to your father’s arm. "I’ve got her.“

"I’m twenty-three,“ you remind your father, "I’ve done more dangerous things than a trip to the beach.“

"Yeah, but you’re still my little girl,“ he answers with a smile, squeezing your hand. You squeeze back, though his comment irritates you.

"See ya, Dad. Call me if something’s wrong with your leg, alright?“

"Sure, kiddo. Have fun, you two, and bring me a seashell.“

Joel grins at the open envy on your Dad’s face.

"We’ll go on another trip next year,“ he says in an attempt to cheer him up.

"Yeah, yeah,“ your Dad answers, glancing at his watch. "Better get going, or you’ll miss the flight.“

"We’ll be fine, Joel’s got a fast car,“ you argue, "A Bronco. That’s an SUV.“

Joel snorts.

***

Joel lets you take the window seat and plops down next to you, legs slightly spread so as to fit into the little space the two of you have. His leg nudges yours, and he pulls it back immediately, though you can see how uncomfortable it must be with his knees pressing into the seat in front of him. You move your legs towards the window with a glance at Joel, who looks grateful and is able to relax his muscles into a more comfortable position without invading your space.

"Thanks,“ he mutters, "Fucking hate flying.“

So do you, though not because you’re too big to fit into the space, and not because you’re afraid – mostly because it’s boring. Sure, takeoff is exciting, but you get nauseous from watching movies and the plane is much too loud to really enjoy your music the way you would lying on your bed at home. You could study, you suppose, but you tell yourself you wouldn’t be able to concentrate and kick your backpack further under your seat. Joel notices and chuckles.

"Finals, huh? You almost done with your degree?“

You can’t imagine him finding your boring university struggles interesting, but you’re not exactly fantastic at smalltalk, so you take the conversation he’s offering you.

"I’ve got one more year, but I’ve got to do a six month internship, and write my thesis, so yeah, this is, like, the last of my regular classes and exams.“

"You enjoy it?“

The question is strikingly honest, like he really wants to know, like it’s fine if you don’t. You look at him, his eyes already on your face, and for a second you think how handsome he is. You didn’t notice before, when he was just the owner of a bike you could conveniently borrow, when life was all skinned knees and staying up till sun-down. Now, he looks like an equal, like someone who wants to know about your life, someone you want to know about yourself. The change is a little unsettling, but thrilling. You realize you haven’t answered him, so you clear your throat.

"Sure, it’s alright. Not what I would have done if money didn’t matter, but it does, so…I can be content with it.“

Joel considers this, eyes still lingering on your face, as the plane starts speeding up for takeoff.

"What would you do if money didn’t matter?“

You shrug, and smile to yourself.

"Creative writing, maybe. Or English lit.“

"You always were the smart one in your family,“ Joel answers with a chuckle.

You glance at him, and feel a pang of something warm in your stomach as he compliments you. When the plane takes off, you look out of the window, but get the feeling Joel’s eyes keep looking at you. It makes your skin prickle, though not at all unpleasantly.

***

You get to the hotel when the sun is high in the sky, burning the top of your head and making you long for a shower and an ice-cold coke. Joel courteously carries your suitcase and although you don’t want to inconvenience him, you don’t mind the way his muscles bulge under the weight, arms straining against the navy shirt he had underneath his flannel. You wonder how he’s not suffocating in the heat, wearing his thick jeans and boots.

When you get to the front desk, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, searching for his reservation details with furrowed brows. You smile when you notice he uses two hands to scroll. It takes him a couple of minutes, cursing under his breath, and you smile at the lady, who smiles back, patiently waiting for Joel to find the right email.

"Sorry,“ you say to her, and try to catch a glimpse at Joel’s phone, so as to figure out what’s taking him so long. "Need some help?“

He throws you an offended look that makes you grin, and finally shows the lady his phone. She smiles, types something into her computer and gets out two room keys.

"Go easy on your Daddy, it’s easier when you grew up with the internet,“ she says, handing you each a keycard. You feel Joel stiffen beside you, and your stomach flutters.

"Here’s your keycards, you’re on the third floor. Enjoy your stay!“

"Thanks,“ Joel mumbles, taking the cards and handing them to you, before grabbing the two suitcases. He huffs, when you walk around a corner and towards the elevators.

"She was makin’ fun of me,“ he says accusingly when the lady is out of earshot, as if that would be your fault. You snort, all of a sudden feeling giddy at the prospect of being at the beach soon, your holiday only a couple of minutes away.

"I don’t think so, she was trying to help you by blaming your incompetence on your age,“ you say, Joel looking at you like he can’t believe what you said.

"Sorry.“ Your voice is quivering with amusement at how offended he is. "Daddy.“

That makes him clear his throat, and if your eyes aren’t playing a trick on you, his cheeks turn a shade darker. Bingo.

"Don’t say shit like that,“ Joel grumbles, "’M not that old.“

"How old are you, then?“

"Why?“, he asks, eyes meeting yours, and suddenly you’re the one blushing, your stomach swirling with something you definitely should not be feeling for your Dad’s best friend. Joel shakes his head. "Don’t start something neither of us can finish, kid.“

It’s just an offhand-comment about the way you jokingly flirted, but you feel all bashful all of a sudden. His mention of there being something to potentially start, the fact that the possibility even crossed his mind…when you look up at him again and watch him press a button on the elevator, you study the grey patches in his beard, the way his jaw clenches and unclenches as you’re waiting, his thick fingers drumming against the handle of his suitcase. It’s not what you expected to happen, but Joel’s got you intrigued.

***

You both agree to take a shower, get settled in and meet outside the rooms in half an hour – they’re neighboring, so it’s not far. You’re too lazy to properly unpack, so you just grab a bikini and a comfortable white sundress to change into after your shower. The water is welcome on your skin, washing away the grit and sweat of the hours spent on the plane, and you feel like a new person when you step out of the bathroom. You put on sandals and a pair of sunglasses, grab sunscreen, your books and notes for class, and a bottle of water, and throw it all into your beach bag, then head for the door. Joel is already waiting for you, leaning against the wall opposite your door wearing a different shirt, red swimming trunks and dark sunglasses. He’s got a towel thrown over his shoulder and you grin.

"Raw-dogging the beach?“, you ask, which makes him furrow his brows.

"The hell does that mean?“

You snort at his obvious annoyance at your innuendo.

"It means you’re only bringing a towel, nothing to entertain yourself with,“ you explain, gesturing towards your bag. Joel shakes his head, still frowning.

"I’m going to the beach, not the library,“ he answers, and starts walking towards the elevators, his flip-flops making their soft sound on the floor. Your gaze flickers down towards his legs, his swimming trunks revealing tan thighs.

"Comin’?“

You swallow, and catch up with him.

***

He’s fucking gorgeous. It’s a problem, how gorgeous he is, tan torso, swimming trunks low on his hips, bits of dark hair scattered across his chest and soft belly. His shoulders are wide, like they were made for swimming, his hair glistening as he shakes like a wet dog when he comes up for air. You have been staring at the same page for far too long now, but there’s no way Joel is able to notice your staring, not when you’re wearing your sunglasses and he’s busy swimming.

You know it’s a bad idea, that there’s no good that can come from crushing on a man twice your age, more than that, even. You know he must surely see the girl who came over to borrow his bike with tears of anger in her eyes every time he looks at you, and you know how much he respects your father.

Still, you are allowed to have fun. You’re doing this for your Dad more than anything, and you’ve been bending over backwards trying to make him proud with your good grades, so if there’s something you’re able to get out of this trip, you figure you’re at least allowed to look. And anyway, it’s not hurting anyone. It’s just natural, the half-naked bodies and blissful relaxation would affect anyone who has spent the last four months cramped up in a little dorm room.

You watch Joel swim towards the beach again, rising out of the water like some sort of Poseidon sent to personally make this trip unbearable for you. You think of his reaction when you teasingly called him Daddy, and swallow.

"Fuck,“ you mumble to yourself, when he tugs on his swimming trunks so that they don’t slide over his hips, dripping water onto the dry sand all around him. He smiles at you as he makes his way over to your spot – two deckchairs shielded by a parasol.

"Wow,“ Joel says sarcastically, when he looks at your book, still on page two. "Real page turner, huh?“

You blush, and open your mouth to defend yourself, but Joel’s expression softens, all biting humor gone, as he grabs his towel.

"You’re allowed to take a break from studying, you know?“

You watch him dry himself off, big hands rubbing the towel over his chest and stomach, leaving his legs to dry on their own, as he lays down on his deckchair.

"Easy to say, you’re not the one who has to face my Dad if you fail all your exams.“

Joel turns his head towards you, and you’re struck by how gentle his expression is.

"I know he can be a hard ass, but I guarantee you you’re not goin’ to fail all your exams, kid.“

You sigh and shrug.

"He give you a hard time ’cause of your grades?“

"No,“ you answer quickly, all of a sudden feeling defensive of your father. "I just wanna…make him proud.“

Joel smiles.

"I know for a fact you’re doin’ that without even tryin’. And anyway, it’s good to take breaks. Let’s your brain cool off and absorb information much better afterwards.“

Can’t argue with that logic, you think and close your book with a thud. Joel grabs it from you and throws it into your beach bag.

"I grant you two hours of studying each day,“ he says, and you have to laugh. "The rest is for having fun, gettin’ tan and drinkin’ cocktails."

It’s preposterous, that he would order you around like that after you told him you need to study, back before you even made it to the airport. But something is different here, away from your desk, and your Dad’s broken leg (and the rest of him, for that matter). Joel and you have fallen into an easy dynamic, and although it’s unusual, your reservations are gone. You’re actually looking forward to spending time with him, and not just because of the way his belly nudges against the waistband of his swimming trunks, or how his accent seems to thicken in the sun.

"Fine,“ you say, "but you’re paying for my tuition if I do end up failing, Miller.“

He grins at you.

#mine #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us part 1 #tlou1 #tlou #pedro pascal #my writing #dbf!joel #older!joel #smut #Joel miller smut #Joel miller fanfiction #dbf!joel miller #tlou fic #my burning sun will someday rise

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johnbrace · 2 years ago

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Planning Appeal (DAY 6 (EVE)) Planning Inspectorate - appeal of Wirral Council refusals of 7 planning applications for residential development in the greenbelt by Leverhulme Estates

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thosewickedlovelies · 3 months ago

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A guide to writing fics set in museums / with a museum worker character

Hey hi hello it’s your local museum worker here, offering you some insight and tips to writing museum-related fics! This is primarily organized as a list of different jobs you could have in a museum and what their duties entail. This post might also be useful to you if you’re considering working in museums and want to know What Goes On In There. Let’s go!

For simplicity/fic-writing purposes, I would divide museums into 2 very rough groups: large national or city museums that Have Money (think the Smithsonian or British Museums, or the Chicago Field Museum or the Royal Armouries Museum in Leeds); and smaller local museums. These could be local industry and culture/history-of-our town museums, historic houses, or really niche subject museums run by One Person With A Passion.

Big national museums have a fuckton of staff and money (museums can never have enough money. But these places are very well-off compared to somewhere small that might always be hustling and writing grant applications). If you work here you’re likely to have a specific role in a particular department, and you probably won’t do much outside this role (ex., if you work in collections management, you probably won’t also design exhibits)

The smaller the museum, the more varied your workload will be/the more likely you are to be doing a little bit of everything. You’re probably organizing collections storage, manning the front desk, and desperately running fundraising efforts, all at once.

To this end, smaller museums are more likely to be closed one or two days a week- you’ll be there, probably cleaning displays or managing storage, but visitors won’t be.

A lot of (most?) universities also have museums, so a college town setting is also doable. But the same big vs small museum disparity is still possible! At Penn State University, for example, the Palmer Art Museum is its own (recently redone iirc) building in the center of campus with a lovely plaza out front, while the Matson Museum of Anthropology is uhhhhh a couple classrooms in the Anthropology Department (which they’re currently rebuilding tbf, so we’ll see what they’ve done with it in 2025).

Types of Jobs

Curator

The one museum job that everyone can name. Nominally the person in charge. Probably laments that their job is way more admin than fun hands-on stuff now.

Actually this is the role I have the least knowledge of, but I think that’s partially because this job might vary the most from place to place? Structural organization can vary a lot between institutions, but I think the higher up you get in any field, the more your job tends to consist of meetings/overseeing, designating, and ~liaising~

A list of things a curator might do:

Planning or approving events and fundraisers, schmoozing with donors and members at said events, approving or designing a schedule of exhibits, publish outreach/advertising or research materials, oversee hiring, approve new object acquisitions (or de-acquisitions), generally make sure that the museum is working within the scope of its mission and if necessary, change or refine their mission

The curator might not necessarily control a museum’s funds; in this case they’ll liaise with the people who do, likely a Board of Executives or Board of Trustees. Once they get the money from these people, though, they could potentially redistribute it as they see fit.

If you work in a fuckoff museum like the BM, you could also be the curator of a specific department, arranged by overarching subject, geographic area, time period, or even object type (eg Curator of Archaeobotany, Curator of Korean Collections, curator of coins from the medieval period). These categories can be more or less specific depending on what kind of holdings your museum has. I think these types of curators would still be able to do interesting things, as they aren’t the ones who Oversee The Whole Place.

You can also be an assistant or associate curator, like being an assistant manager.

Education/Engagement

These are the people who design fun extra activities (esp for kids) in the galleries or relevant events/workshops/lectures the public can attend. They might be called Engagement/Education Officer or Events Manager or anything similar

Again, the bigger the museum you work at, the more specific your role is likely to be. You might focus on web content/outreach and social media, manage the ‘friends/members of the museum’ program, or engage with shareholders, etc

Or you might do things like develop content and events to engage adult audiences. Workshops or lectures connected to new exhibits, after-hours visits. These people are also probably the ones with an eye on accessibility- you’ve probably seen advertisements for museums’ early or late hours for older visitors, or ‘quiet hours’ for people who might be overstimulated by normal museum hubbub, or tactile workshops designed for visually impaired folks.

I think most places would try to have someone specific for kids activities at the very least. They’ll be designing little activities or dress-up stations for the galleries, kiddie mascots or scavenger hunt trail kind of things, as well as, potentially, activities for any digital elements in the museum. They probably also coordinate school visits and act as a tour guide for classes, and will lead the kids in specific workshops or lessons in classrooms attached to the museum.

As a note on technology- some people would probably say that integrating digital elements into exhibits is the ~next big thing~, that museums have to get with the times in this regard, but opinions vary. Big science and technology museums are the most likely to have the most digital and techy elements in their exhibits, so if this is your setting, your character could also be a generic “tech person”. I would go so far as to say the smaller/more local the museum, the less technology you’re likely to have, but smaller museums are able to get grants, some of them potentially for specifically this type of thing, so it’s totally possibly that they have a few tablets with integrated activities, or some other Digital/Screen Thing.

Engagement Officers are probably the most likely people to be drafted for out-of-hours events, so that’s a potentially fun thing for your character to do. Some museums, particularly bigger ones, have event spaces attached that anybody can rent out, for weddings, galas, markets, etc, so they might also take care of these bookings as well.

Exhibit Design

This role has a lot of nebulous terms: exhibit coordinator, design constructor, exhibit programmer- but these are the people who design the exhibits. They’ll come up with a theme or narrative, a design scheme, choose the objects, write the text. They’ll probably come up with some marketing material as well, that matches the design scheme, or they’ll liaise with the marketing people who will.

These people might not be as familiar with the collections as the collections management folk (below), depending on how strictly divided your roles are, so they’ll likely consult with the collections people on choosing objects for a particular exhibit or theme (they say that good exhibit design builds an exhibit from the objects up, but I digress).

These people will also direct and participate in the install and deinstall (the actual terms) of exhibits- putting the objects on the right plinths/stands and arranging everything just so in the cases. Genuinely there’s a lot of psychology behind exhibit design- colors, lighting, the way you might design an exhibit to be navigated vs the path people will actually take through the gallery, people’s sight lines and where their eyes go first, how the display of any given object affects people’s perception of the importance of that object. Fascinating stuff, many books on the subject.

There are also a lot of accessibility concerns to be considered here- how bright is the gallery, how large is your display text, at what height is the central eyeline of your cases?

Museums often loan objects to and from each other’s collections, so if you’re building an exhibit and you’d really like to include X type of object but your museum doesn’t have any, you can borrow some from another museum (this isn’t necessarily a guarantee- museums are allowed to say no to these requests, but I think manners would dictate that they should have a good reason)

Museums sometimes tour whole exhibitions as well- the objects, the text placards, maybe even the stands for super special or fragile items- and exhibit coordinator people are the ones who would handle those arrangements.

Potentially good opportunities for angst stories here- wow things come to life at your museum, you fall in love with a statue but oh no it’s only at your museum for three months

Collections Care

People who work in Collections Management have the most direct contact with the museum objects themselves. You probably work here if you prefer objects to people. When a museum gets new material, these are the people involved. They might not always initiate acquisitions, and the final approval is probably down to the relevant curator, but 98% of the time they’d be consulted (I hope).

A mind-boggling statistic is that most museums only have like 10% of their collections on display at any given time. Yeah. Forreal lol. But collections folk will know where the other 90% is and what’s in it (particularly the longer they’ve been there).

There’s usually a head Collections Manager. Other workers might be a Collection Assistant/Associate, Collections Officer (we like calling people Officers for some reason), Registrar, or some variant of these depending on the specific flavor of your duties.

Main job duties can be divided amongst documentation and database work, organization and storage of objects, and lite conservation. Just how much/how technical the conservation work depends on your own training, but also on the size/funding of your museum. The more money, the more likely your museum is to have its own lab with people specifically trained as conservators. More on them later.

Here’s what happens when a museum gets new stuff!:

Ideally, it goes to a ‘quarantine zone’ first. This is a separate space or room where the objects can relax for a few weeks to a few months (ultimate best practice is actually a year, but, you know. that’s a long time) to ensure that they’re not harboring anything icky (bugs, mold, etc) that will infect the rest of the collections. It’s ideally super-sealed and climate-controlled, but the primary feature should be that it’s away from the main collections store.

Collections folk do the paperwork. They’ll give each individual object a unique number (following their preexisting system that will allow it to be identified distinct from all the other objects in the collection). They’ll create a ‘collections record’ for the object- documentation containing any and all information about the object. This includes the accession paperwork (everything that says ‘we legally own this now’); provenance info (all previous owners and everywhere else the object has been in its life); measurements and description (in painful detail); and conservation history and concerns (ie ‘there’s a crack in the side so pick up with care’, ‘this was repaired in the 70s so that glue is gonna fall apart any day now’).

(I'll say as a fic writer that this would be an great time to wax poetic over a beautiful statue or painting; you can’t write “This golden crown deserved to be worn by a great king, or maybe by that broody Roman general in the painting in Gallery B” in the collections paperwork, but you can think it.)

For fiction’s sake, your collections records could be either paper or digital, but in an ideal world a museum would have both setups, for security’s sake. So you’d fill out some long forms and/or input all the information to the digital collections management system (‘the CMS’, or referred to by your specific software’s name, as there are many out there). The CMS is not a static archive, but rather a living register that’s updated every time an object is interacted with. The object records also include where an object is at any given time (‘normally in Case E in the Fancypants Gallery, currently in Conservation Lab A for repairs’).

Once the objects are done in quarantine, they’ll go to storage. If they’re being displayed immediately, they’ll probably go to some interim storage space/shelf with other objects for the same exhibit and in that case only get a temporary setting. Every object will get labeled with their object number (directly on them, with a special pen that’s safe for this. Or if it’s really tiny, like a coin or jewelry, then their own tiny box will get the label). Small or fragile items, or items grouped together, will go in their own boxes (made of acid- and lignin-free cardboard or polyethylene plastic, like Rubbermaid totes; lined with polyethylene foam and then acid-free tissue paper). Stable ceramic vessels might sit directly on lined shelving, particularly if they’re very large or heavy, like many stone objects.

Listen, every type of object has a particular way(s) of storing that’s best for them, you’re gonna have to look that up yourself or consult someone if you need that level of detail

Ideally, before being stored away, objects are also photographed. This could be part of the Collection Officer’s duty, and/or your museum could have a photographer on staff. (say it with me:) This is more likely if your museum is really huge and/or has a backlog of unphotographed collections and has hired someone specifically, even if temporarily, to improve its collections documentation.

I would say a collections person, or anyone with a museum studies degree, should have some minimum amount of conservation knowledge that includes basic storage standards for different object materials, how to spot potential preservation problems (like if your bronze axe head is actively oxidizing or if that green spot looks the same as it always has since starting and pausing decaying), and maybe how to give objects a basic clean or deal with certain types of problems. But the nitty-gritty science is more the realm of Conservators, someone with a degree that ends in -Sci or who’s done some other certification course.

The general collections store should always be dark, slightly too cool for prolonged human comfort, and labeled to high heaven. Objects will most likely be grouped by material- ceramics/pottery, metals, precious metals and stones (jewelry or beads), stone, glass, wood, bone/ivory/other organic material like feathers or teeth or anything that can be decorative, textiles, paintings. A museum often has some paper material/documents, usually part of or related to a group of objects they acquired, but generally paper and photographic material is the realm of archives and archivists. Yet again, the bigger/more well-funded the museum, the more likely it to have a separate archive department, so your character could also work as an archivist in a museum.

Another thing the collections care folk probably do is ship objects. Remember how I said that museums loan objects and exhibitions to each other? The stuff’s gotta travel somehow! If things are being shipped internationally, they’ll go in big wooden crates, with specifically dimensioned partitions inside. Then it will be lined with our favorite foam and tissue paper, cut so the objects sit snugly inside. I haven’t personally worked anywhere with a possibility of local shipments, so I can’t say where the threshold might be as to when a museum would just pay an employee to drive the objects over vs ship them with a shipping company. But the preparations would be similar, minus the big wooden crate but with extra-careful packing (and paperwork and insurance etc)

Conservation

Conservators are the people who work in labs with fancy equipment. Not every museum will have a formal conservator or a lab of any kind; sometimes the collections care person fills this role, or if something urgently needs care beyond the abilities of the museum’s equipment, they might send it away to a lab elsewhere, the same way you can send your old VHS home videos to a professional archive to be digitized.

If an object is actively deteriorating in a way that could harm itself or other objects (as opposed to like, at risk of fading bc the lighting is wrong, which is a straightforward fix related to the environment), that’s when a conservator would intervene.

Some methods/machinery by which you can analyze objects:

Ultraviolet (UV) and infrared (IR) light - Different materials absorb and react to light differently, which you can use to identify them. Useful for seeing things like the different layers of paintings

Stereo-microscopy (microscopes, of varying strengths)

At magnifications of x5-x100 you can see things like tool marks from an object’s manufacture, traces from wear, deposits, and coatings

At x50-x500, with a thin sliver of a sample, you can see (and hopefully identify) fibers, layers, particles, metallographic structures

You can get information from objects without taking samples, but samples are usually worth the information.

energy dispersive x-ray fluorescence spectrometry (EDXRF) - EDXRF allows you to identify the elemental composition of the surface layer of an object. So it might tell you what a tool is made of, and also the composition of the objects it was used on, if they left traces

scanning electron microscopy (SEM) - an SEM uses a focused beam of electrons to produce a magnified, high-resolution image of the surface of an object

X-radiography, both film and digital - X-rayy are beneficial for objects that might be covered by dirt or corrosion and can show you details of an object’s construction or hidden structural weaknesses

I’m not a conservator, so if you want more hard science-based info, ask one of them lol

Listen to me. If you take nothing else away from this post, let it be this:

Once an object is in a museum, it is never seeing natural daylight again. Sunlight is the ultimate enemy of every object’s lifespan. If you need to see an object in the sun or moon light for ~magical spell reasons~, you will straight up be stealing that object to smuggle it outside.

Okay. That being said, you do hear (and could probably google) stories about museum employees stealing things from their museums on purpose to prove a point about security or insurance to their higher-ups, so like. Depending on your type of museum, it might not be impossible to steal from lmao. (Don’t tell anyone I said that.)

Possibly the most useful advice for you to keep in mind when writing your conservator or collections care characters would be that touching objects hurts them. It might not hurt them now, it might not even hurt them in ten years, but every time you handle an object, there’s a risk that you’ll damage it. Not on purpose, obviously, but to err is human. The simplest, most effective advice my conservation professor ever gave us was “don’t handle an object if you don’t have to.” That means don’t move an object without a plan and a place to put it, first examination should always be visual, not tactile, etc. Unfortunately, that means that your character cannot walk around lovingly handling and caressing their favorite objects (unless this is a Night at the Museum situation where the objects are caressing them back, ykwim)

Museum Technician

These people probably have a lot of different names, but basically, technicians are the background muscle of the museum. They do the technical construction of bigger pieces of exhibition material, up to and including the exhibition cases themselves.

So they wouldn’t deal with the small mount that the object rests on, but they might build the big plinth that the mount sits on. They’ll help move things around the building, particularly big heavy things, hang big framed works, assist with exhibit installs, and generally do most things which might involve power tools/equipment or heavy lifting

I worked in a big museum that hired a third party company to supply their technicians; I interviewed at another place that hired their own. If you’re a small museum, you might just have a freelance person that comes in once or twice a week to help move things.

Other

Other miscellaneous roles one could have in a museum: researcher (for exhibits and/or collections), gift shop or cafe worker, security guard, room attendant, translator, archaeologist, consultant

Honestly, TL;DR? Just have your character be a consultant of some kind. “Oh no, I don’t work here, I’m Y’s friend. They called me in to provide some expertise on X subject that they’re doing an exhibit on.” This could work for literally any subject- history/archaeology/anthropology, art, transportation, science and technology, anything you might find pictures of in an archive, idk. This could get you into an office or meeting room of some kind in the ‘employee only’ space of the museum, or potentially all the way into the collections store if you’re giving them information they were missing about some objects. Otherwise you’d probably (hopefully) need a key or some other kind of security clearance to get into the collections store.

Whew, that was a ride, huh? I hope this guide was useful to someone! I’m always open to answering questions if you think I forgot something or if anyone wants more details <3

#hopefully this is useful to people as Gladiator II comes out <3 #i dont really know how to tag this lol #museums #fic advice #writing advice #reference #writing resources

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theemporium · 6 months ago

Text

[10k] an investigative study into the mysterious fish that saved his life; by oscar piastri with the assistance of logan sargeant, google searches and a crush that makes a man blind to the obvious signs that his coworker is a mermaid.

happy birthday @scuderiahoney!! for one of my fav people and one of my fav spirals we have had together<3

inspired by this moodboard

warning: mentions and descriptions of drowning!! idk why that wee bit went angsty but it did so be warned!!

THE PREFACE

Oscar Piastri never considered himself a ‘go with the flow’ kind of guy, but more of a ‘never have a plan’ kind of guy instead.

He likes to let fate guide his decisions, or at least that’s what he told himself. That the universe was looking down at him and putting him where he needed to be.

Because it was fate that he read the wrong room number, ending up in an ocean wildlife conservation lecture rather than the mechanical engineering one he was meant to be in.

Because it was fate that he found a map, with a small seaside town circled, in the glovebox of the secondhand car he managed to save up and buy.

Because it was fate that that very seaside town had one of Australia’s biggest ocean conservation programmes that was currently accepting applicants.

Because it was fate that the dodgy, beachside cabin he bought for ridiculously cheap ended up being home to a stray dog who would become his best friend.

Because fate was the only explanation for so many things in Oscar’s life that he never planned to happen nor did he believe would’ve just happened if he followed along the way he was. He chose to believe that there was some superior being up there that was making sure he was sticking to the path that was meant for him.

And so far, it hadn’t led him astray.

In fact, all things considered with his mother’s constant questioning and uncertainty of him moving so far from home for the programme, things had been working out pretty well for Oscar.

He enjoyed the routine he had settled into in the almost year of being in one of Australia’s most picturesque, scenic seaside towns.

Every morning he woke up just before sunrise, when the sky was breaking into pinks and oranges and yellows. He would shuffle his way into the kitchen, pouring a bowl of kibble for Buddy and a bowl of cereal for himself before taking a run along the beach (that was essentially his front garden) until the sun was in the sky. Some days he hit the water, most days he tried to stop Buddy from eating the jellyfish that had washed up on the beach.

He would have a quick shower, put out some more food for Buddy before riding his bike fifteen minutes towards the water park (because unlike the others, he listened to Sebastian’s talks on lessening your carbon footprint).

He would greet Alex and George by the door, the two already arguing or disagreeing about something or the other.

“Alex, they have to show you proof of university ID to get a student discount!”

“They looked trustworthy!”

He would pass by the gift shop where Lando would be sitting on the cashier counter, swinging his legs back and forth and fiddling with the speakers to play whatever music he was feeling that day.

“I’m telling you, Aussies love country music, Osc. You’re clearly the odd one out.”

Some days, he would pass by Charles and Max by the tourist booth, bickering back and forth about the customer shows and tours for the day.

“I can’t dedicate thirty minutes of my tour to you, Charles.”

“But the penguins have learnt new tricks!”

Other days he would pass by the labs where Sebastian would stick his head out, waving at the boy and throwing some weird and wondrous fact at him.

“Hey, Oscar, did you see that the squid killer parasite was treated successfully last week?”

And some days Sebastian stayed in the lab, the door closed and locked behind him which told Oscar and the others that Mark, the park’s owner, was visiting.

And by the time Oscar reached the staff room to drop his stuff off in his locker and prepare for the day, Logan would’ve somehow hunted him down and began yapping his ear off about something or the other before he eventually brought up his favourite topic.

The crush Oscar had on you.

“You must be happy this morning,” Logan commented offhandedly as they left the main building, heading down towards the animal habitats.

“As opposed to every other morning when I’m always angry and upset?” Oscar deadpanned, shooting the American a look.

“Just thought you would’ve had a small mood booster after seeing the rota,” Logan shrugged, but there was a mischievous and knowing glint in his eyes. “Heard you were on the late shift.”

Oscar narrowed his eyes. “Uh huh.”

“On the late shift with a certain someone,” Logan continued. “Someone you happen to—”

“Do you have to do this every time?” Oscar asked, deadpanned.

But Logan was already nodding. “Yes, it brings me great joy when you try to act nonchalant and then lose your mind in front of her.”

Oscar scoffed. “I do not lose my mind in front of her.”

“Hey, guys!”

Oscar felt his mouth run dry when he turned his head to find you already out on the dock by the dolphin enclosure. It was embarrassing the way his brain went blank, the way his eyes were glued to you—your outfit no different to the uniform both he and Logan and everyone else wore—and not a single coherent thought could leave his mouth.

He felt Logan jab him in the ribs, kickstarting his brain and letting out an awkward garble before he managed to blurt out, “Heyo!”

He wondered if jumping into the tank with the dolphins would save any of his dignity.

“What he meant to say was hey back,” Logan called out, far too smiley as he tried to hold back his glee. “You’re out here early.”

“I was teaching Rufus a new trick,” you explained, something quite fond in your voice as you turned to smile at the dolphin who was currently nudging a ball towards you. “And then Gizmo felt left out so I played with him a bit too.”

Logan raised his brows. “With one ball?”

“I’m creative,” you shrugged. “If you were working in the dolphin enclosure, I would’ve taught you my tricks, Sargeant.”

“Well, you can always teach Oscar!” Logan said, giving his friend a slightly rough slap on the back which caused him to stagger forward. “I’m sure he would love to learn anything you wanna teach him!”

Oscar shot Logan a glare.

Logan only grinned wider.

“I’ll see if I can make him a dolphin whisperer,” you teased, lighthearted and playful and unaware of the lingering tension between the two boys. You turned to Oscar with a kind smile on your face, one that kind of made his brain go fuzzy. “It’s been a while, Piastri. I’ve missed working with you.”

And Oscar could feel his cheeks burning up but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he mirrored your smile, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

“I’ve missed it too,” Oscar replied, sincere and genuine.

He did. He really did. Because despite all of Logan’s taunting and teasing about Oscar’s crush on you—which was very much real—he also appreciated you as a friend. He had since the day you both started, anxious and eager and leaning on each other for support since day one.

Just somewhere along the line, Oscar managed to catch some feelings he couldn’t quite shake away. But it was fine. He had them under control. He had long ago accepted they wouldn’t be requited and he would let them run their course before the friendship returned to normal—whilst you were none the wiser.

“The dolphins missed you too,” you added. “That’s just ‘cause you feed them an extra herring.”

“I gotta bribe them!” Oscar defended. “You have some secret bond with them. It’s not fair.”

You snorted. “Well, lucky for you, you’re on swimming duty. Get that wet suit on, Piastri.”

And then, you flashed him a wink and turned around and—

Yeah, Oscar was far from moving on from how he felt about you.

But it was fine. Because Oscar Piastri was the kind of guy who let fate take the reins for him.

Because fate led him to this town. Because fate led him to this job. Because fate led him to you and all the others he had bonded with to make a dysfunctional but supportive family.

Because it was fate that led him to making one of the biggest discoveries in his life.

…

THE SIGHTING

It was as normal as a morning could be.

He had woken up a little earlier than his alarm, a weird and unsettling feeling in his chest that he brushed off as the few hours of sleep he had managed to get. Buddy wasn’t much better, not as eager to get out of the house as he usually was when Oscar stood by the door for their morning walk.

It was a little chilly, enough to warrant Oscar wearing a jumper as they wandered down the beach until Buddy felt a little more relaxed and playful.

But by the time they returned to the house, Oscar was still wired with some restless energy itching under his skin and still three hours until his shift started at the park.

He thought a quick go at the morning waves would help settle the feeling buzzing through his body before he started scratching at his own skin.

The water was cold and refreshing and definitely washed away any last dregs of sleep that Oscar had been clinging onto. The exhaustion was long gone, now replaced with a different type of adrenaline that made him seek out the waves that made him work for it.

It was still early, far too early for many people to be on the beach. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon and Buddy was still half asleep on the beach by his towel, no real rush to join Oscar in the water any time soon.

Everything was fine.

Everything was normal.

The morning sun was starting to shine through, but instead of fluffy, white clouds like the forecast had assured, large, dark clouds were taking over the barely blue sky. It was disconcerting, especially when the waves seemed to be getting rougher.

He took one glance down at his watch, assuring himself he had enough time for one more wave before he headed back to shore to get ready for his shift at the marine park. With a deep breath, he narrowed his eyes at the water and began paddling with his hands.

The wave didn’t look too big or risky. It should have been an easy attempt, one that Oscar could do with little to no thought on a day with good weather. But the wind was stronger than he realised, the water more temperamental than he assumed and it didn’t take Oscar long to realise that this wave wasn’t going to end well.

But the panic didn’t start setting in until the wave washed over him, knocking him off his board with little time for him to take a breath before he went under. He could feel the current tugging his body in different directions, pulling his arms one way whilst the leash around his ankle pulled him in the opposite direction with his board.

And no matter how hard he kicked his legs and propelled his arms, he couldn’t seem to get any closer to the surface.

It hit him that he was absolutely fucked when he could feel his lungs starting to burn.

Buddy would be left on the beach, whining and crying out for Oscar until someone found him. Or, god forbid, the loyal dog would try to swim out and find him himself. Oscar was all he knew, the only family Buddy had ever known and it was clear that the dog loved him. It made him feel a twisted sort of pain at the idea of leaving the dog behind.

People at work would be confused when he didn’t turn up for his shift. Logan would probably be the first to notice when he spends far too long waiting for Oscar in the staff room, watching the clock with a frown. The blond would probably offer to drive out to his house to check up on him. Charles would probably offer to join and might even offer to drive if he could see the boy’s hand shaking too much. He wondered if you would join.

Sebastian would probably have to call his family back home, to tell them. His stomach twisted into something bitter and awful at the thought of leaving his family behind, of never being able to hug his mother again or tease his sisters or surf with his father.

His body stopped fighting at one point, too tired to even attempt to reach the surface. But his brain kept going, kept haunting him with the life his family and friends would lead whilst he continued to float and float and—

And then he saw it.

It was blurry, his vision dotted with black and white blobs as the overwhelming urge to close his eyes took over his body. But he saw it. He saw the flashes of orange, the scales glimmering in the little light under the surface. He saw a fin and scales and then—

Skin.

And hair.

And arms reaching for him.

And he swore he saw the features of a human face staring back at him, but before he could even try to force his eyes to focus, everything was going black and Oscar let it happen.

…

The first that hit him was how fucking cold he was.

The second was—

Well, the second hit him when his eyes blinked open, barely giving him a chance to acknowledge the people surrounding him before he coughed, emptying out the saltwater that was still stuck in his lungs.

He could feel someone’s hand soothing his back, the action almost relieving if it weren’t for the fact Oscar swore he couldn’t stop shivering.

“Let it all out, honey, atta boy,” a woman’s voice soothed as Oscar laid on his side, panting heavily and trying to wrap his head around everything before he felt a furry head pushing against his own.

“Hey, Buddy,” Oscar breathed out, his lips twitching as he let the dog practically throw himself on top of Oscar even if it was still a little hard to breathe.

“Smart dog you got there,” the woman spoke up again and Oscar finally turned his head to find a kind-looking woman smiling down at him. It took a few seconds before he realised she was wearing the paramedic uniform. “He managed to drag a couple out of their car to come help you. They are the ones who called us.”

Oscar blinked. “You swam out?”

The woman frowned a little. “Of course not, honey. The waves seemed to have washed you in. You were lying out on the beach when we got called out.”

“I—” Oscar blinked again, his confusion growing as he stared out at the ocean for a few moments. “Right. Of course.”

“Do you remember what happened?” The kind paramedic asked.

“A little,” Oscar admitted. “I was surfing and the wave took me under. The current started dragging me further out. But then I saw—” Before he paused. Images of orange scales and a human face flashed in his mind but there was a voice in the back of his head that told him to stop, to keep that to himself.

“Saw what?” The paramedic prompted.

“I don’t know,” Oscar eventually said as he shrugged. “I think I blacked out after that.”

“I see,” the woman nodded, though he couldn’t read whether she believed him or not. “Think you can stand up? We just wanna do some standard tests, make sure you are alright. Then maybe someone you know can come pick you up.”

“No need, my house is just there,” Oscar said as he nodded towards the cabin in the distance. “I feel fine, I promise—”

“Procedure,” the woman said with a sheepish smile. “C’mon, it won’t take long. Promise.”

And true to her word, it hadn’t taken long.

Beyond some tests to prove that he knew his name, had basic motor functions and wasn’t concussed, he was allowed to head back home with Buddy by his side and a blanket wrapped around his body to try and maintain what little heat he had left.

His body was running mostly on muscle memory as he shuffled into the house, pulling the blanket off (against better judgement) and starting to unzip his wetsuit so he could peel it off his body like a second skin.

He was smiling down at Buddy, who had refused to leave his side, when he felt a sharp prick against his finger. He winced, lifting his thumb to his mouth without second thought before glancing down to see what had nicked him.

His eyes widened comically large when he saw an orange scale stuck to the side of his leg, sparkling and glistening the same way he swore it had under the water. The attempt of removing the wet suit was quickly abandoned as he glanced around the room, swearing under his breath before shuffling towards the kitchen.

Buddy followed, whining and huffing as Oscar slammed cupboards doors open and shut before finding a small container. He leaned down, grabbing the scale as gently as he could before transferring it to the container.

“M’telling you, Bud, that thing out there saved my life,” he spoke, his voice still a little raspy and raw. “I don’t know what it is but it wasn’t a normal fish. And I’m gonna figure out what the hell it is.”

With all due respect, Buddy looked at his owner like he was insane but Oscar didn’t seem to notice.

…

“I need you to look at something for me.”

Logan let out a high-pitched scream, his body reacting quicker than he could keep up with and causing him to fall out of his seat before he noticed Oscar standing there, a frown on his lips. The blond let out a curse, his hand pressed against his chest as he let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Fucking hell, dude, don’t sneak up on a guy like that!” Logan grumbled before pausing, scrambling to stand up and really focus on Oscar this time. “What the fuck are you doing here? You should be resting!”

Oscar blinked. “I’m fine.”

“You almost drowned,” Logan said slowly, like he was explaining the point to a child.

“Yes, Logan, I’m aware,” Oscar deadpanned. “I was there, believe it or not.”

“I—” Logan let out a deep breath. “You’re insane. Like actually insane. I think you lost too many brain cells because you shouldn’t be out of bed, let alone at work—”

“I’m not here to work,” Oscar corrected before flashing his friend a grin. “I came here because I need your weird fish encyclopaedic knowledge.”

Logan stared at him. “Be honest with me, did your board hit your head?”

“Shut up,” Oscar rolled his eyes before gesturing to the jar he slammed on the table before Logan fell off his seat. “Look.”

Logan frowned a little, picking up the jar and peeking inside. “I know you work with dolphins but I’d at least hope you know that’s a fish scale.”

Oscar shot him a look. “I know it’s a fish scale but I need to know which fish it belongs to.”

Logan blinked. “You think I’d be able to take one look at this random scale and tell you which fish it belonged to?”

“I mean,” Oscar shrugged. “Yeah. Kinda.”

“You’ve been hanging around the dolphins far too much,” Logan murmured.

“Listen, whichever fish that scale belongs to saved my life,” Oscar started.

Logan stared at him like he had grown a second head. “A fish saved you from drowning?”

“Yes.”

“And you are sure you didn’t hit your head?”

“Oh my god,” Oscar huffed. “Look, I know what I saw. It had a huge orange tail but it also had…like…skin and hair.”

“Very commonly found in marine animals,” Logan deadpanned.

“I’m serious,” Oscar said, his lips turned downwards. “And think, if it is a new kind of fish and you help me discover it—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Logan muttered, waving him off. “For the record, I still think you’re going insane but I’m your friend so I’ll help you out.”

Oscar grinned. “I knew you’d help.”

“You owe me lunch though,” Logan added. “I dropped my burrito when you scared me.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Fine, deal.”

…

THE INVESTIGATION

Despite his concern, Oscar managed to convince Sebastian to let him come back to work the next day (after saying he would be bored out of his mind at home) with the condition that Buddy be allowed to join him at work considering the dog had downright refused to leave his side since the accident.

George and Alex had been awkward at the front. They had been less than subtle at their surprise that he had come into work so soon, and in turn, had been dreadfully unprepared in the etiquette of how to talk to your coworker friend who had almost drowned and died less than twenty-four hours earlier.

Lando had been no better, downright asking him if he met God in the few minutes he lacked oxygen under water before being washed back out to shore. He hadn’t understood why Oscar—and even Buddy—had stared at him blankly.

Charles had been a little more sympathetic, though oddly protective of the boy. He had been a little fussy at Oscar coming in so early, insisting that he would make sure the boy had proper breaks and meals, even if he had to talk to Sebastian himself. Max had rolled his eyes at the other boy’s antics but clapped Oscar on the back and said he was happy he was alive.

Even Logan had been cautious around the boy. Despite his agreement to help search for the fish that saved him, he still constantly looked at Oscar like he had downright lost his mind. And maybe he had.

The only person who seemed to be acting remotely normal towards him was you, or at least it felt that way.

“You know, Rufus really missed you yesterday.”

Oscar raised his brows as he walked down the pier towards where you stood, two buckets of fish in each hand. “I think we must be talking about different Rufuses.”

You rolled your eyes, though it seemed quite fond as you patted the spot next to you as you sat on the edge of the dock. “He likes you. He just also likes teasing you.”

“That’s easy for you to say, he is a little prince around you,” Oscar commented, smiling softly when Buddy rushed towards your side, nuzzling you fondly.

“There’s my favourite dog,” you cooed, taking Buddy’s face in your hands and pressing a smacking kiss on the top of his head. “Such a handsome boy.”

Oscar chose to ignore the fact he was feeling oddly jealous of his dog of all people.

“You’re just a dolphin whisperer,” Oscar said eventually, looking out at the two rescue dolphins that were currently chasing each other with a red ball between them. “I don’t get how you do it.”

You shrugged, but your smile was mischievous. “If I told you, I would have to kill you.”

Oscar snorted in response. It would have been embarrassing if it didn’t make your smile widen.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed between the two of you with Oscar watching the dolphins and your attention on the needy dog now half-sprawled across your lap. You waited a few moments before you found the confidence to speak up again.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, your fingers tangled in Buddy’s fur as the dog sighed happily. “I mean, obviously you don’t have to answer that but if you want to talk about it—”

“I’m okay,” he answered with a kind smile. “It was…weird.”

You snorted before you could stop yourself. “Weird is an understatement.”

But Oscar just shrugged his shoulders. “I was lucky, that’s what I’m choosing to focus on.”

You nodded but you didn’t say anything in response. You didn’t get the chance as Logan came barrelling down the dock, a huge grin spread across his face and a bunch of scuba equipment in his arms.

“Dude, you won’t believe what Seb let me borrow!”

Oscar’s eyes widened as he quickly scrambled up, shooting Logan a look that he didn’t seem to understand.

“Don’t worry,” Logan rolled his eyes. “I didn’t tell him about your mission to find—”

But Oscar reached over to smack his hand over Logan’s mouth before the boy could continue, laughing awkwardly as he looked over his shoulder at you. “He doesn't know what he’s talking about!”

You glanced between the boys, eyeing the scuba equipment curiously. “Hiding some top secret mission from me?”

“No, of course not!” Oscar quickly blurted out. “It’s just…something stupid.”

You raised your brows. “And requires state of the art diving equipment?”

Oscar just laughed nervously.

Logan finally managed to push Oscar’s hand away, something mischievous and cunning shining in his eyes as he glanced at Oscar before looking at you. “You know, we have spare equipment. You could totally join us tomorrow—”

But before Oscar could intervene, you were already responding.

“Oh no, I can't swim.”

Logan blinked. “What?”

“I, uh, mean,” you laughed, awkward and stilted as you quickly stood up, almost tripping on Buddy as you did so. “I swim. I can swim. Just not well.”

Logan nodded slowly. “Well, Oscar could always teach you—”

“No, no, don’t let me hold you back,” you insisted before clearing your throat. “God, would you look at that! I should go get some more fish. Bye, guys!”

Neither boy got a chance to say much before you were running down the dock, heading towards the main building. Logan watched you for a moment before looking down at the two full buckets of fish by his feet.

“Well, that wasn’t weird at all,” he deadpanned.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “You’re reading too much into it.”

Logan gave him a weird look. “Dude, she’s literally lying. It’s a part of the entry requirements to be able to swim and be fully lifeguard trained.”

“Well, maybe you made her uncomfortable and she felt the need to lie,” Oscar retorted.

Logan rolled his eyes. “A man in love is a blind man.”

Oscar shook his head. “Pipe down, Shakespeare, and show me what Seb gave you.”

…

As it would turn out, aimlessly diving around the area Oscar almost drowned was a useless and fruitless endeavour.

Who would have thought?

Logan, clearly, considering the boy had been insisting as much since the two of them waddled back into Oscar’s cabin, their wetsuits drying out on the balcony and the heavy weight of exhaustion on their shoulders after the hours of searching was something that was not there.

“Maybe it needs a purpose to show itself,” Logan suggested as he slumped down on the couch, happily letting Buddy jump up and join him. “Maybe you need to almost die again.”

Oscar shot him a look.

“Right. Too soon. Sorry.”

“No, I—” Oscar paused, shaking his head and letting it drop. He was too tired to deal with it anyways. “That is not a theory we are going to test.”

“Whatever you say, man,” Logan shrugged, settled against the soft throw pillows Oscar’s mother had insisted he needed to buy to make his place seem a bit homier. “What’s your plan anyways?”

Oscar frowned a little in confusion. “For what?”

“When you find this fish,” Logan stated. “Like, what are you gonna do? Say thank you and move on with your life?”

“Well, no, I—” he paused for a moment. “I hadn’t really thought about it. It’s a weird fish.”

“And diving the depths of the ocean will get us nowhere except having a very boring hobby for the next fifty years,” Logan deadpanned. “Describe the fish again. Maybe we can note down some main features and do some research. There’s probably something on the internet.”

“I don’t know,” Oscar shrugged, turning his attention back to whatever scraps were left in his fridge that he could somehow make a meal from. “I have never seen a fish like this.”

“Because you know every fish ever to exist.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“C’mon, just try,” Logan whined as he reached for his phone, muttering out a small ‘sorry’ when he had to manoeuvre Buddy on his lap before he pulled up a new tab. “We have orange scales, big, skin and hair-like features—”

“It was skin and hair.”

“Yeah, sure,” Logan murmured as he continued to add a few more details Oscar had told him before hitting search. He waited a few moments, looking through the top searches before he let out a loud snort. “Okay, maybe you were right. Maybe googling is useless.”

“Why? What does it say?” Oscar asked, reaching for the jar of pasta sauce that seemed to be shoved towards the back of his cupboard. For the sake of his rumbling stomach, he decided not to linger on how long it had been back there for.

“It says you’re looking for a mermaid,” Logan snorted, his amusement clear in his voice. “I mean, come on! Like any sucker would believe that.”

However, when he turned his head to see if Oscar was laughing along with him, he found the boy staring back with a contemplative look on his face.

“No,” Logan groaned, leaning his head back against the pillows. “No, Oscar, we are not—”

“It might be,” Oscar argued back.

“You need to get your head checked,” Logan grumbled.

“Just find as many reliable sources on mermaids as you can whilst I make lunch,” Oscar retorted, waving him off as the American let out a squawk of protest.

“He’s gone insane. My best friend has gone insane.”

“I can hear you.”

“Good!”

…

“I can’t believe these words are about to leave my mouth—”

“You don’t need to say that everytime.”

“But how do we know we are dealing with a mermaid and not a siren?” Logan questioned as the two of them sat on the dock by the dolphins, sandwiches in hand as they enjoyed their lunch break whilst entertaining Rufus and Gizmo with the new toys Sebastian had ordered.

“Because it would have killed me if it was a siren,” Oscar responded matter-of-factly. “If it was a siren, they probably would have eaten me.”

“Should we really be saying it? Wouldn’t it be a she?” Logan asked, but before he could even wait for an answer, he was continuing. “And how do we know she speaks English? Like, she could speak some ocean language. Maybe you need to start speaking fish so you can thank her if we find her.”

Oscar blinked. “Speaking fish? Really?”

“What? I am just making assumptions here,” Logan murmured. “It’s not like there’s a lot of accurate and reliable sources for mermaid logistics and habits.”

“Well, she is also probably a human living in this town,” Oscar pointed out. “So, I think my chances of her speaking English or any other human language is high.”

“So you think,” Logan muttered under his breath.

Oscar glanced down when he felt a nudge against his foot, smiling when he felt Rufus nudge him. “I wonder if she can speak to fish.”

“Hm?”

“Like, imagine how cool it would be to be able to talk to different sea animals,” Oscar commented as he leaned down, his smile widening when the dolphin lifted his head up to meet Oscar’s hand.

“Well, your girlfriend is the dolphin whisperer,” Logan teased, nudging the other boy’s side with his elbow. “She could maybe teach you something, help you practise your fish language before you find your knight in scaly armour.”

Oscar could feel his cheeks burn. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“But you wish she was,” Logan sang.

“Plus, some people just have a special knack with animals,” Oscar shrugged, watching as Rufus continued to nudge his foot to gain his attention. “She’s one of them.”

“A shame she can’t swim with them,” Logan muttered.

“Oh my god, get off her back with that,” Oscar groaned.

“I am just saying—”

“Stop saying it.”

“—it’s a little weird that—”

“You’re a little weird.”

“—she was so dodgy about her swimming and then ran off—”

“You are reading far too much into it.”

“—like she’s hiding something!” Logan exclaimed.

“Who’s hiding something?”

Both boys let out a scream, whipping their heads to find you standing a few feet away, looking far too amused at the expressions on their faces. You raised your brows, glancing between them and watching the way they both floundered for a response.

“Were you talking about little old me?” You asked, a dramatic gasp following as you placed your hand over your heart.

Oscar’s eyes widened. “No, we just—”

But before he could even come up with a half-assed, lame excuse to try and sell, a large splash of water hit the three of you. The water was cold and a shock to the system and the almost mocking laugh of Rufus as he swam away was the cherry on top.

Oscar glanced down at the soggy sandwich in his hand before shifting his attention to you, noticing the way your eyes widened in panic.

“Hey, you look a bit pale,” Oscar started but you were already starting to walk backwards.

“I have to go!” You blurted out before turning on your heel and sprinting down the pier.

“Wait!” Oscar frowned, ignoring the odd look Logan was giving him as he began to chase after you, watching you make a beeline towards the main building.

He could feel his legs burning as he tried to catch up, as he chased you through the windy footpaths of the park, only to find himself at the main building with the door still locked and you nowhere in sight.

He called out your name, his teeth starting to chatter a little as the water seeped into his clothes and hung heavy on his frame.

But you were nowhere to be seen.

…

“Do you think there is a way to find the human version of the mermaid?”

Oscar barely lifted his head up from his phone, glancing down at the series of unread messages he had sent to you over the course of the last few days. Sebastian had said you called in sick, saying you needed a few days to recover from your cold without giving it to anyone.

But Oscar wasn’t buying it.

“Because maybe we just need to look for the very obvious clues.”

Of course, there was the potential option that you really were sick. It was quite chilly the other day and Oscar’s mother always did say that wet clothes and chilly weather were never a good combination. It was why his first message was staged as a simple wish for you to get better, seeing if you would reply to him.

You didn’t.

“You know, like people well affiliated with fish. And maybe avoid water. And maybe have a suspicious background we don’t know about.”

The following messages had been sent by accident. His thumb had been hovering over the second message when Buddy bumped into him and made his thumb hit the screen. And then, with the embarrassment already settled, he found himself sending a few more to follow up.

But still, he hadn’t heard a single word from you. Nobody had.

“It does make me wonder if your kids would come out as mermaids or fully human though.”

Oscar blinked, head snapping up to stare at Logan with a bewildered look. “What?!”

Logan huffed. “Have you not been listening to a word I’ve been saying?”

“No, clearly not. Though, if you’re talking about how mermaids reproduce then I’m glad I zoned out,” Oscar deadpanned.

“You should have a lot more interest considering your girlfriend is a mermaid,” Logan retorted.

Oscar blinked. “Come again?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t see the signs?” Logan prompted.

Oscar shot him a look. “I don’t see the signs.”

“God, love really is blind,” Logan sighed, shaking his head. “The signs are right in front of you, dude. She’s the one you’re looking for. Maybe. Potentially. It’s mostly a hunch.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Oscar scoffed. “I know her. I know her better than you. And I know that isn’t her.”

“In denial your girlfriend is a fish?” Logan teased, nudging his foot against Oscar’s shin only to let out a wince when Oscar kicked him back.

Oscar rolled his eyes. “I’m not in denial about anything!”

“Who’s not in denial about anything?”

Oscar’s head snapped around, his cheeks burning when he found Charles and Max standing at the door of the staff room, looking between the two younger boys with a questioning but amused look in their eyes.

“Nothing!” Oscar flashed them a strained smile. “Truly nothing. We are talking about absolutely nothing.”

Max raised his brows. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“Well—“ Oscar laughed, another half-assed lie ready to leave his lips but Logan bet him to it.

“Oscar is just in denial about his lady fish!” Logan blinked, realising what he’s been saying. “I mean his friend who’s a fish! I mean, his lady friend who likes fish. She isn’t a fish. No one is a fish but fish!”

Oscar shot him a look.

“You know?” Logan laughed awkwardly.

To his credit, Max looked positively delighted like their misery was great for his amusement. But Charles looked downright concerned, looking at Oscar with a solemn look as he walked around the table. He placed a hand on Oscar’s shoulder and gave him a small squeeze.

“We will fight your fish fetish together,” he said in a completely serious voice.

Logan choked.

Oscar blanched. “I do not have a fish fetish!”

“It’s fine, accepting it is the first step and we will get there together, yes?” Charles said with a kind smile. “You’re not alone, Oscar.”

“I’m not there at all,” he retorted.

“You have a support system here, Oscar,” Charles said. “We are your family too.”

Oscar groaned, his head slumping down to rest on the table. “Logan, I’m not going to kill you.”

“Logan is your friend and he just wants to help,” Charles continued, patting the boy on the back like he was trying to comfort him.

It was safe to say he wasn’t focused on your lack of response to his messages after that.

…

THE REVEAL

It was actually totally by chance that it happened that morning.

Just before his shift ended the day before, Sebastian had managed to catch him on his way out, ranting away about storms and stocking up and eventually ending his ramble by asking Oscar to come in early for his shift tomorrow to help deal with the morning feeds in case they have to shut down the park for the storm.

He had agreed, assuring the older man he would be at the park before the sun had risen before he left.

The next morning, he had been cursing his past self as he dragged himself out of bed and forwent his usual morning swim for a quick walk with Buddy before cycling towards the park.

He was barely awake as he sauntered towards the staff room, putting his things away and just barely noticing your locker was already full before he made his way out towards the dolphins where he assumed you would’ve started.

After all, Sebastian never said you two couldn’t work through the breakfast shift together.

Oscar still felt a bit half asleep and bleary when he saw you at the bottom of the pier, talking away to Rufus and Gizmo. It made him smile, listening to whatever you were saying without even really processing it.

In fact, it was because he was so entranced that he almost missed it at first.

“Okay, one more but then you’ve gotta have your breakfast,” you sighed, shaking your head fondly at the two dolphins before lifting your hand.

It took a second for Oscar to even realise there was a massive ball of water floating in front of you. It took a few more seconds to realise it turned to ice seconds later. And he was already rubbing his eyes to try and wake himself by the time you threw it into the water, letting the dolphins chase after it.

He stood at the bottom of the dock, mouth agape and heart thundering in his chest that he missed whatever you said to the squeaking dolphin before you dove head first into the water.

His body kicked into action by that point as he sprinted down the pier, yelling out your name and already trying to shrug off his coat so he could dive in after you, only to pause when he saw something in the water.

Not something—you.

It felt like deja vu as he stared at you under the water’s surface, stuck between confusion and awe. It was still dark but somehow the scales of your tail still glimmered in the water, dancing and shining and downright mesmerising. It was orange and gold and yellow and just breath-taking to see when he wasn’t losing oxygen. He watched your hair flow behind you as you swam effortlessly beside the dolphins like you belonged, like you were meant to be in the water.

It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen.

He had barely picked his jaw up off the floor by the time you rose to the surface again, your eyes widening as you saw him kneeling on the pier staring out at you.

You gulped a little. “Oscar, it’s not what it seems—”

“It’s you,” he interrupted, though his voice was soft and awestruck. “You’re the mermaid. You’re the one that saved me.”

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t need saving if you hadn’t been an idiot surfing when it wasn’t safe,” you retorted, almost defensive as you squirmed under his watchful gaze.

“I can’t believe it,” he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are so—”

“Scary?” You supplied.

“Beautiful,” Oscar corrected with a small frown.

“Oh,” was all you managed to say.

His eyes drifted down once again, his eyes lingering on your tail and the way it swayed gently to keep you above the surface. It was long, much longer than he realised the last time he saw you. But it was there and it was real and it belonged to you and—

It was overwhelming.

And it was also deeply annoying that Logan was right.

Oscar opened his mouth. “I have so many questions I want—”

“I’m sure you do and I will answer them but,” you flashed him a sheepish smile, though the defensive tone in your voice was still there. “Not now. Later. Promise.”

Oscar nodded, a little dumbly. “Come back to mine after work?”

You nodded back, your smile a little strained. “Yeah, of course.”

…

“Would you like some tea?”

The wind howling and the rain pattering against the window from the storm managed to break some of the awkward silence as you sat in Oscar’s living room, picking at the skin around your nails and avoiding eye contact with him completely.

“Uh yeah,” you nodded. “Tea would be nice.”

Oscar nodded before shuffling towards the kitchen, grabbing two mugs and putting the kettle on before he glanced over his shoulder to peek out at you.

He smiled a bit as he watched Buddy trot towards you, letting out a whine and knocking your hands away from each other and instead placed his head on your lap until you started scratching behind his ears instead.

“He’s a bit of a clinger,” Oscar warned as he wandered back into the room, two cups of tea in his hands as he placed both on the coffee table before taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. “If you give him too much attention, he will never let you leave.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“You’ll think twice when he starts chewing your shoes because he wants to go out in the morning,” Oscar retorted.

You let out a soft laugh in response.

He watched you for a few moments as you cooed at the dog in front of you. You had told him you’d make your way to his house, considering Oscar’s shift ended half an hour earlier than yours and he had only driven a bicycle into work.

He had tried to be really casual and nonchalant about the whole thing, pretending like his mind wasn’t spinning all day since he saw you in the water. It got a lot worse when he got home, practically pacing the cabin and wearing a hole into the carpet as he kept glancing at the clock—so often that even Buddy started whining about it.

And then, just minutes before the rain started, you were knocking on his door and walking into his house and—

He felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

He wondered if he was meant to be the one to drop it.

“So, a mermaid, huh?”

And maybe it was the shitty icebreaker or maybe it was the nerves catching up with you, but you couldn’t help but snort.

“Really?” You teased, finally looking at him with something that felt oddly close to fondness. “That’s what you start with?”

“I panicked,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. “And…I don’t know how much you want to share.”

“Most people would be demanding answers,” you told him, your voice a little defensive like you expected him to be the same.

“I’m not most people,” he responded before pausing. “Wait, other people know?”

“Well, no,” you confessed before shrugging. “I just assume people would demand answers. I sure as hell did.”

Oscar’s brows furrowed together. “You haven’t been a mermaid your whole life?”

“Since I was sixteen,” you told him, shaking your head. “It’s a long story. Full moons, sea caves and a very confusing attempt at a shower the next day.”

His lips twitched upwards. “And you’ve hidden it this long?”

You nodded.

“That must be exhausting,” he murmured, his chest tightening a little at the idea that you had been carrying this secret alone for years.

“I’m used to it by now,” you answered honestly with a shrug. “Plus, technically speaking, other people don’t know but other creatures do.”

Oscar blinked. “You can actually speak fish?”

You shot him an odd look. “Well, it’s not really a universal language amongst all fish but I can communicate with them.”

“And control water,” Oscar blurted out, remembering what he saw that morning.

You smiled softly. “Being a mermaid has its perks.”

“The park is a risky place to work,” Oscar commented with a frown. “Aren’t you scared of constantly being exposed?”

“Like the other day?” You huffed, shaking your head. “I’m usually quite safe and I’m careful. Rufus was just being a dick.”

“He…knows?” Oscar said slowly, like his brain was still catching up with the fact you could speak to marine animals.

“He’s very demanding during our morning swims,” you admitted with a soft smile. “He also has very strong opinions and can be quite pushy with them.”

Oscar raised his brows. “And what was he getting pushy with this time?”

You fell silent, your attention quickly falling back to Buddy.

He frowned a little. “I won’t judge, whatever it is. Unless it’s like a mermaid-slash-fish insider thing I wouldn’t understand, then I totally get it but—”

“It’s whatever,” you quickly interrupted, your smile seeming a little more put on and strained. “It’s not true, anyways.”

Oscar’s frown deepened but he didn’t say anything as he nodded. It was only in the moments of silence that he realised how heavy the rain had gotten, with the drops sounding like harsh patters against his window.

“Fuck,” you murmured with a frown. “It’s going to be impossible to get home.”

“Home as in…a house or a sea cave or…?” Oscar started to trail off, having the decency to look a little embarrassed when you shot him a look.

“I have a place on land,” you confirmed, though he could hear the amusement in your voice. “Although considering the fact I have seconds before I change, I won’t even be able to make it out your front door before I grow a tail.”

“You can stay here,” he blurted out before he could second guess himself. “If you want to. I don’t mind. Neither does Buddy.”

As if on cue, Buddy let out a soft bark of agreement as he nuzzled his head against your lap.

You looked at him. “Are you sure? Because I—”

“I’m sure,” Oscar confirmed with a nod. “You can take the bed, I don’t mind taking the couch. Although, you may have to deal with Buddy trying to cuddle with you.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Oscar, I can’t kick you off your own bed.”

“I don’t mind,” he repeated with a shrug. “Plus, the couch can be tricky to get comfy on if you don’t know the exact way to sleep and I’m used to—”

“I’m not letting you sleep on this couch,” you said, pausing for a moment before sheepishly smiling. “No offence.”

His lips twitched. “None taken.”

“We can—” You paused again before straightening up in your seat. “We can share the bed. It’s just one night, no?”

Oscar blinked.

“Friends can share beds, right?” You added, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Uh, yeah,” Oscar blurted out. “Yeah, totally. Absolutely. We can so do that. No problem at all.”

He was fucked.

…

All things considered, Oscar thought he was doing pretty well until the two of you actually had to fall asleep.

He gave you some spare clothes to borrow and took the gentleman’s route of letting you use the bathroom first. He let you choose your side of the bed and borrowed some of the throw pillows from the living room to act as a barrier to make you a little more comfortable. He had even made sure Buddy was squished on his side of the bed so he wouldn’t disturb you.

But then, the silence settled between you both after he had turned the lights off and climbed into bed and not even the pattering rain could ease the suffocating tension.

“Logan knows,” Oscar blurted out.

You blinked, turning your head as though you could see him in the dark. “What?!” There was a pause. “You told him?”

“What? No!” Oscar quickly corrected. “No, of course not. He guessed it. Kinda. He was, like, forty-seven percent sure you were a mermaid.”

You frowned. “And the other fifty-three percent?”

“That,” Oscar snorted a little. “Was him being confident that mermaids didn’t exist at all and I hit my head during the accident.”

“You almost did,” you confessed.

Oscar swallowed before turning his head to look in the direction of where you were lying. “Thank you,” he whispered in a softer voice. “For saving me. You really did save my life and you didn’t have to.”

There was a small pause before Oscar felt you reach over the wall of pillows to take his hand. “I would’ve never left you hanging, Osc. You’re my friend.”

He squeezed your hand a little. “Right, friend. Of course.”

Another moment of silence passed between you two.

“You know I would never tell anyone your secret, right?” Oscar whispered, something about the moment feeling soft and quiet. “Even with Logan. I’ll throw him off your tail, stop him from bothering you.”

A laugh slipped out. “Off my tail?”

His cheeks burned but he smiled. “The pun was unintentional.”

You hummed before responding. “You’d actually do that?”

“Of course,” Oscar confirmed, genuine and sincere. “You’re my friend.”

“Right, friend. Of course,” you repeated when nothing else came to mind.

And once again, the silence settled between you but it was thick and suffocating and desperate to be cut and—

“Rufus wanted me to be honest with you,” you blurted out, squeezing his hand a little like it was the small sign of comfort you needed. “That’s what he’s been bugging me about. Gizmo too, actually.”

Oscar frowned a little. “About telling me you’re a mermaid?”

“No. Yes. Kinda.” You took a deep breath. “They wanted me to be honest with how I feel.”

“I didn’t realise they were licensed therapists,” Oscar commented.

Your lips twitched. “They are delusional like that.”

“Whatever you wanna say, m’not gonna judge you,” Oscar murmured, squeezing your hand to solidify his point.

“I like you,” you whispered.

“Yeah, I like you too,” Oscar replied casually. “And nothing you say can freak me out. I promise.”

“No, Oscar, I like you. Like like.”

“Oh.”

“Fuck, sorry,” you swore under your breath as you moved to pull your hand away. “I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position—”

“No, I just—” Oscar let out a huff. “Wait a second.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you listened to him shuffling around on his side of the bed. It took a few seconds before you realised what he was doing, throwing the pillow wall on the floor and reaching for the lamp on his bedside table before he turned to you.

“Better,” he murmured before reaching for your hand again. “You mean it? You like me?”

“Are you really gonna make me say it again?” You winced a little.

“I mean, it would help me redeem my response beyond a pathetic ‘oh’,” Oscar confessed, his cheeks flushing pink as he bit back a smile.

You watched his expression closely. “And what would your response be this time?”

He swallowed harshly, gaining what little confidence he had left in himself before he chickened out and second-guessed himself. “I would say I have been pretty much in love with you since the day you accidentally trapped me in that huge fishing net and had to cut me out with a shitty pair of craft scissors.”

Your brows furrowed together. “But that was our second day working together—oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Oscar repeated with a grin. His eyes dropped to your lips for a moment before returning to your eyes, squeezing your hand as we spoke. “I like like you too.”

“Even if I’m half fish?” You asked, watching as Oscar’s expression grew adoring.

“Even if you told me I had to live on a dinghy for the rest of my life to be with you,” Oscar confessed.

“That,” you paused as you laughed a little. “That might be one of the weirdest but most romantic things someone has ever said to me.”

“You should see me flirting after a few drinks,” he deadpanned, not bothering to hide his smile as you rolled your eyes fondly.

“Just kiss me, Piastri,” you murmured.

“Yeah, I can do that,” he nodded before slipping his free hand to cup your face before leaning down to kiss you.

You let out a happy sigh, pulling your hand free so you could wrap both arms around his neck and tug him closer. Oscar rolled closer, keeping his weight off you as he deepened the kiss and smiled a little at the satisfied noise you let out.

It was soft and sweet and adoring and made your whole body feel like it was on cloud nine by the time he pulled away, strands of hair falling in his eyes and a gentle expression pained across his face.

“We should probably sleep,” Oscar murmured.

“Yeah, we probably should,” you nodded in agreement.

“Glad you agree,” he hummed.

“Totally,” you responded.

Neither one of you could bite back your smiles as you leaned in for another kiss.

��

THE AFTERMATH

“This is cheating.”

“How is it cheating?”

“Okay, maybe it isn’t cheating but it is unfair.”

You snorted, shaking your head in amusement as you lightly flicked your tail to splash the boy sitting on his surfboard. He let out a small noise of annoyance but he was still smiling, looking down at the seashell in his hand with utter love and adoration.

“My gift seems lame in comparison now,” Oscar grumbled as his thumb smoothed over the ridges of the shell.

“That’s a bit dramatic,” you retorted, leaning on your crossed arms as you leaned on the edge of his board.

“Yeah, well, I bought your gift and you literally dived to the depths of the ocean for mine,” he replied but he still held the shell with a great sense of protectiveness, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Thank you, babe. I love it.”

“Thought it would look cute for your collection,” you grinned back, sighing happily at the ease and relaxation written across his face. It had been an intense few weeks at work and this was the first mutual day off the two of you had. You almost forgot how much you loved seeing Oscar so laid back and stress-free.

“It’ll be the best one in my collection,” he grinned, staring down at the shell for another few seconds before reaching for the small zipped pocket in his wetsuit. “Okay, close your eyes.”

You rolled your eyes but did as you were told, holding your hands out as you listened to the sound of the zip. You waited a few moments before you felt cold metal hit your palm and tried to bite back your smile.

“I know the mermaid magic has a whole mind of its own but I thought maybe this would be one thing you can wear both on land and in the water,” Oscar confessed, and you could hear the hint of nerves in his voice. “Something from me, so I can be there with you when you are deep in the ocean getting me cool shells.”

You snorted a little, but the amusement was quickly replaced by awe and surprise once you opened your eyes and spotted the silver locket in your palm. Your thumb traced over the necklace, smiling a little when you noticed the gem was the same shade of blue as his favourite board—the same one he was currently sitting on—and Buddy’s eyes.

“Oscar,” you whispered when no other words seemed to leave your lips.

“Open it,” he prompted.

You gently clicked the locket open, your smile widening when you noticed a picture tucked into the frame. Staring back at you was one of your favourite photos of you, Oscar and Buddy on the beach that a passing local had taken for the three of you when you were out one morning for Buddy’s morning walk. It had been one of your and Oscar’s favourite photos, considering it was currently framed and sitting on his bedside table and another print tucked into his locker at work.

You looked up at him, your chest feeling so warm and tight and full with all the love you had for the boy. “It’s beautiful.”

“Perfect for you then,” he murmured with a grin before nodding his head. “Turn around, let me put it on for you.”

You listened easily, moving your hair over your shoulder as the boy reached around to place the necklace on before clasping it together. Your fingertips brushed over the locket as you glanced down at it before turning to look at him. He was already staring back at you, his expression soft and fond and so full of love that it almost made you wonder how it took you so long to confess your feelings when he had been staring at you like that long before you started dating.

“I love you,” you murmured, your heart warming at the sight of his cheeks blushing at the same three words you have said countless times to the boy.

“I love you too,” he replied easily before leaning down to kiss you. “Happy one year anniversary, baby.”

“Happy one year, Osc.”

#oscar piastri #formula one #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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unoislazy · 1 year ago

Text

Jealousy Looks Good On You

Mizu x Jealous! Reader

Summary: You and Mizu have been close friends for quite some time. You truly enjoyed each others company, that was until Taigen showed up.

Disclaimers; light language, has not been proofread, I am currently delirious from packing and moving all day but I had to write this out to feed the starved mizu lovers. A fair amount may not make sense at this point in time. My apologies ❤️

————————————————————

You and Mizu have been friends for a while now. Honestly you were surprised you could even say that. Mizu was not someone who would openly accept friendship applications on a daily basis, they usually wouldn’t even talk to people unless it was absolutely necessary. But somehow, despite this, you had gotten past that wall and weaseled your way into becoming her friend.

That was how you viewed it at least, you liked to think that she at least enjoyed your company seeing as she had yet to just up and leave you randomly, which she very well could successfully do if she wanted. You two had learned a lot about each other through late night talks and just general conversations. You of course, had learned about her secret, and you vowed to keep it from anyone else that would cross your path. She in turn had learned a lot about you, things about your past, your likes and dislikes, the usual things that a companion would know.

However, there was one thing she didn’t know about you and you planned to keep it that way. You had been traveling alongside Mizu since you two had crossed paths in a town that she did not intend to stay long in.

Since then you had always admired Mizu for her skills with a sword. That admiration eventually turned to something much stronger.

You would never admit it outloud but you had developed a small crush on the blue eyed woman, and in all honesty it was pretty hard to keep it under control.

Your dynamic had just been you and her for a long time and once Ringo was added to the group it only added to your enjoyment. You loved spending time with them. You honestly found it pretty adorable how Ringo persistently followed the two of you around, just as you had once done to Mizu well before him.

However, once Taigen joined… things changed.

He was never supposed to stay this long, the only reason he did was because Mizu had saved him when escaping that stupid tower. You wanted to go with her, you pleaded with her to take you with her to at least have some back up in case something went wrong but she refused. She wouldn’t give you any other reasoning than, “I need you to stay here.”

No matter how many times you asked why, she would just give you the same answer until you listened. She didn’t want you to go along with her, she wanted to do this alone. And yet when you and Ringo had found her, was she alone?

No… of course not.

He was there with her.

You didn’t recognize him at first of course, you simply thought him to be some random man Mizu thought it was in her best interest to save. In the time you knew Mizu, that didn’t happen often.

You and Ringo had managed to get them both out of the icy water and make your way to the sword fathers house, keeping them both as warm as you possibly could while in such a state.

It wasn’t until Mizu had initially woken up did you finally find out who the man was.

“You’re awake.” You exclaimed, making your way over to a very dreary Mizu who was trying to prop herself up. You smiled, feeling a sudden wave of instant relief as she looked up at you,

“Is Taigen awake.” Were the first words to come out of her mouth.

“Taigen?” You asked, the name felt familiar but you couldn’t tell from where.

“He’s not awake yet.” Ringo answered, he was still very upset with Mizu after their last meeting and that would’ve been clear to anyone just through his tone of voice.

Taigen… Taigen… where have you heard that name?

That’s when you realized, on one of your very late night talks, Mizu had opened up to you a bit about her childhood. In the tale she told, one name continued to pop out.

Taigen.

The kid who was absolutely ruthless to her. All because of the color of her eyes. You remembered just from listening to the story, the anger you felt for Mizu, but even as she was telling the story she didn’t seem quite bothered by it. You supposed she’d have had a lot of time to think about it to the point the memories no longer brought up any emotions.

You looked away from Mizu and turned to the man who was resting quite peacefully not too far away from her. Your astonished gaze turned to a very clearly displeased glare. Never in your life would you think that you wouldn't end up coming across this man, not once, but twice. You had seen the man before, he had shown up a few other times before this, the only reason you hadn’t reacted as harshly was because you didn’t know who he was. You guessed you hadn’t recognized him this time due to the amount of bruising he sustained from his stay at the tower.

Deserved, in your opinion.

Once Mizu had woken up, she of course got right to work just as she usually did. She had no idea what the words ‘take a break’ meant. You helped her out with most of the tasks she tried to perform, but there was one she was insistent on doing alone, again.

So you sat back, preparing whatever medicine Ringo had asked for you to make as he followed around the sword father like there was no tomorrow. You sat in silence, Taigen sleeping not too far away from you, the fire still blaring keeping you both warm.

Why him of all people. Why did he have to be the one she brought back?

There was nothing you could do about him now except for hope that when he wakes up he just gets up and goes on his way.

You rolled your eyes, even thinking about the man made you mad, so you went back to your mundane task. That was until you heard the sound of what you realized to be Taigen stirring as he finally woke up.

“Great, you're awake.” You said sarcastically as you turned towards the man who had rolled over, making sure to make several groaning noises in the process. Sure he was in severe pain but literally everything he did, logical or not, annoyed you.

He didn’t even truly process who you were or why you were there, the first thing he asked was,

“Where’s Mizu?”

Seriously? Why did these two suddenly care about each other so much?

You tried your best to remain as neutral as possible as you very lowly answered, “Outside.”

You didn’t want to tell him, you didn’t even want to speak to him in the first place and You sure as hell didn’t want to leave him alone with Mizu. How could anyone trust him? Sure people change, and most of what he did to Mizu was from when they were kids… but your concern still stands. Who knows, maybe he’s still an asshole.

But in the end, it wasn’t your choice on whether he and Mizu got closer. You would protest it, and you‘d protest it hard but when it comes to it, if Mizu for some reason completely unknown to you decided he was good enough to keep around you’d have to be okay with it.

Some time had passed since they had both woken up. Mizu had gone out to try and remake her sword and Taigen had gone off to… well you didn’t really know nor did you care. You had been sitting outside on the snow covered ground, looking up at the night sky, trying to just clear your mind.

You didn’t like feeling so angry all the time, especially over someone who you personally had no reason to truly be angry at. You felt guilty, it wasn’t your place to make such decisions on who was good for Mizu and who wasn’t but you couldn't help it. It felt almost as if it was some kind of instinct, but you couldn’t really place what it was or why you felt it. All you knew was that you hadn’t felt like this before, and it frightened you. You didn’t want to be so pushy or mean to the two just because you didn’t enjoy one person's presence.

You sighed as you continued to stare up at the sky.

“What is wrong with me?” You whispered quietly to yourself.

While you were having your moment of self reflection, you noticed Taigen who had made his way back from the village carrying food. The guilt you felt seemed to double as you looked at him, so you simply looked the other way.

He walked inside the house not even sparing you a glance, he probably didn’t even know you were there. You were sitting in almost complete darkness, the only light being the glow from the fire inside and the moonlight. You enjoyed the isolating feeling it gave, it felt as if time had stopped as you stared at the bright moon above. You were completely lost in thought, zoning out as you stared at the moon. The only thing to snap you out of it was the sound of a large thud, as if something had hit the ground.

You panicked thinking that Taigen had attacked, just as you thought he would. You rushed over to the door of the house but you stopped once you noticed the position the two of them were in. They were so close to each other, and it didn’t seem like they were actually fighting with each other. You hid behind the door frame, not wanting your presence to be known as you thought about what you had just seen.

Does she actually like him? Why are they so close to each other? Is this seriously happening?

All these questions ran through your head as you backed away from the door. So badly did you want to ‘accidentally’ stumble inside and ruin the moment but then you knew you’d feel even more guilty about it. You just tried to let it go and move on with your night.

You tried.

The next day you had become incredibly standoffish. Mainly towards Mizu and Taigen which made it especially noticeable. Anytime Mizu had asked anything of you, you wouldn’t respond like normal, in fact this time you barely responded at all. Usually you seemed so happy to do anything within her company, but now it was as if you were looking right past her.

When Taigen would even attempt to talk to you, you wouldn’t even make a move to acknowledge his existence.

It was extremely petty and you knew that, but you seriously had no other way to deal with your emotions. You were trying your hardest to keep your thoughts down and just be happy for the two that you thought had some kind of chemistry but you weren’t getting far.

Later that night, you walked into the same room as Mizu. she had been sitting down drinking something from her cup, and staring off into the distance deep in thought. Once you had noticed her, you didnt give your normal greeting, you just sat down across from her and paid her no mind.

“What is your problem?” She finally asked. You simply looked at her, your face was as empty of emotion as you could make it.

“What do you mean? I don’t have a problem.” You lied, trying to not get ahead of yourself. You had so many things that were just so eager to get out, but you didn’t want to share them. You wanted to keep quiet and never mention a single one. If you never mention your problems you don’t have to feel guilty about them, right?

Mizu stared at you, astonished by your persistence with this new attitude.

“Why won't you acknowledge me?” She asked. You averted your gaze by the slightest bit, the guilty feeling coming back.

“I’m acknowledging you right now.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I don't understand your problem here, I’m the exact same.” You lied. You were trying so hard to keep everything under control.

“No you’re not. We both know that.”

“Since when were you an expert on personalities?”

Just because you were trying hard to keep your cool, doesn’t mean you were doing good at it.

“Since I’ve known you for almost a year.”

“You don’t know everything, you know.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask Taigen, you seem to go to him for everything anyways.” You didn’t mean to let that slip. If you could take back the words you had just said, you would’ve in an instant. You knew once you had brought up Taigen you wouldn’t be able to stop.

“What is wrong with you?” She asked, confused by your attitude towards every single thing she said. You would never act like this normally, so why now? It almost frightened her, it reminded her a bit of how the people in her past would turn on her so suddenly based on some trait about her, so she assumed the worst.

“There’s nothing wrong with me, Taigen is the problem!” You shouted, now standing up to make your point clear, which took Mizu by surprise. You had never truly gotten so angry before and especially not at her.

“What did he do? Did he do something to you?” She asked, a whole new level of possibilities jumped forward in her mind. She had let her guard down around Taigen, what if he had made a move on you and she didn’t know.

“Are you kidding? I’m not worried about me, I'm worried about you! I mean, what hasn’t he done to you. You’re telling me he was an asshole to you for the entire duration of your childhood that you spent together, and then he suddenly comes waltzing back in claiming he wants to kill you? And then you forgive him? You saved his life sure but now he wants to act all buddy buddy with you? Are you serious? You’re setting yourself up for failure here.” As you went on your ramble, Mizu had begun to relax as she realized the situation. Her eyes followed you as you paced back and forth in front of her, an amused expression creeping its way onto her face.

“Hey.” Mizu began but you could barely hear her over the sound of your own voice.

“You could’ve picked anyone else to start getting close with and I would’ve been fine with it. I mean I don’t control who you can and cannot be close with, but him? Seriously?” You continued.

“Hey.” Mizu repeated, once again trying to get your attention to no avail.

“I mean, you could do so much better. The guy who bullied you for years on end? Oh please, even I would be a better candidate than him, not that I’m saying I should be, but I could be-”

“Stop talking.” Mizu had raised her voice just enough for you to finally hear her and take the hint. You immediately stopped yourself and looked at her with a shocked expression. You had gotten so lost in your thoughts you almost forgot you were ranting to her in the first place. You watched as Mizu’s stern expression shifted to one of a more… smug nature as she stared at you, her eyes looking at you from just above the rim of her glasses so you could see the color in its entirety.

“Are you… jealous?” Mizu asked, an amused smile very evident on her face as she slightly turned to you. Your head shot towards her direction as you opened your mouth to protest but nothing came out.

She was right, you were jealous. Really jealous. You had gotten so lost in your hatred towards Taigen you had forgotten to take a step back and realize how stupid your actions looked.

“I just… don’t think he’s right for you.” You muttered, crossing your arms in defiance as you averted your gaze. You weren’t looking at her but you could tell the woman was just staring at you with a very plain look, a look that probably said something along the lines of ‘are you serious?’

“Not right for me?” She asked, placing her dish down on the ground before looking back up at you. Once she had looked back towards you she had realized you still weren't looking at her, and that wasn’t going to do.

“Look at me.” She demanded. Her tone was not harsh but she was quite stern about it. You did as she said without another question, turning your head to look at her even though you wanted to do anything else but that at the moment.

“What do you mean he’s not right for me?” She asked again, wanting a serious answer out of you.

“I saw the two of you… last night. When you were sparring. I saw how you looked at him and I just. I don’t think he’s a good choice for you.” You admitted. You felt so stupid, couldn’t you have just kept your mouth shut and moved on like an adult. Why did you have to be so petty about someone who didn’t even reciprocate your feelings? You were friends, why would you become anything more than that?

She didn’t say anything in response, she simply stared at you as she usually did, but this time her staring made you feel so small. You already felt guilty about feeling this way and now that you had actually said it out loud to Mizu’s face and all she was doing was staring, it made the feeling unbearable. You wanted to cry, but you wouldn't dare to, not now. To risk looking even more childish than you do already? You’d rather die.

“Then who do you think would be a better choice?” She inquired, earning nothing more than a shrug from you. You had said what you needed and you feared if you said anything more you would dig yourself into a deeper hole. “Come on, you don’t have anyone in mind?”

She was teasing you.

She wasn’t mad?

Why was she playing into this, why wasn’t she upset with you placing your own opinions on her feelings.

“I don’t know… literally anyone else?” You responded quietly, not really wanting to answer the question.

“What, like you?” She retorted with a playful scoff.

“I didn’t say that.” You denied, quite defensively one might add.

“Yes you did.” She corrected.

“You heard me wrong.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I heard you wrong.” She repeated, confirming the fact that you were actually trying to play that card.

You nodded.

“So you didn’t say, ‘even I would be a better candidate than him’.”

Well, she got you there, Those were in fact the words you said. You were in too deep to go back now so you committed to your sense of denial full force.

“Where are you getting these words from?” You tried to play dumb, obviously it wasn’t going to work.

“Don’t try to lie to me, I heard you say them.”

“I wasn’t saying that I would be the only candidate, I was just using myself as an example. I’m not saying that you’d have to pick me over him I’m just saying that in the grand scheme of things I just-” You had begun to ramble yet again. You couldn't stop yourself, you felt like everything you wanted to say needed a further explanation to make it not sound as bad as it did. Luckily, this rant was cut very short.

“Hey.” Mizu said, very quickly getting you to shut up unlike the last few times. This time however, she was much closer than she was before. Much, much, closer. You hadn’t noticed that throughout the entire duration of your little banter match, she had slowly made her way towards you and you had absentmindedly been backing away from her. Well, that was until you couldn’t back up any more. Now she was standing no more than a few mere inches away from you, her hands had managed to slither their way onto your waist, holding you in place.

“What…” You whispered. You didn’t know what else to do with yourself, you felt as if you could melt into a puddle right then and there as you stared into her eyes. Her eyes however, had not stayed focused on yours, and instead began to travel around to other areas of your face. You had never really seen this side of her. There would be no reason to really, unless she truly felt the same way.

There wouldn’t be any logic behind Mizu just messing with you to mess with you, she only ever really put up fronts for people she needed information from, and the only information you had was how much you wanted her in that exact moment. You would never say that outloud though.

“Stop talking.” She whispered back, her eyes almost entirely focused on your lips as she very slowly neared you. You couldn’t hold yourself back, moving yourself forward and making the move to seal the kiss yourself.

Words wouldn’t be able to accurately describe how you felt in that moment. Neither of you truly expected it, but the kiss had become a lot more heated way faster than you truly expected. Turns out you both had buried feelings that were going to be known one way or another. Your hands had made their way to Mizu’s hair and her hands had begun to travel away from your waist. Once you had eventually parted from the kiss, you both looked almost surprised that any of that truly happened.

Mizu laughed a bit to herself as she looked at you.

“You know, Jealousy looks good on you.” she said before you rolled your eyes,

“Stop talking.” Was all you said before continuing where you left off.

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xpressbuildingdesign · 1 year ago

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Unlock the secrets to successful permit acquisitions with Xpress Building Design's proven strategies. Empower your construction endeavors by leveraging our expertise, ensuring compliance and swift approvals for your town planning needs.

#Plans and Permits #Town Planning Applications #Town Planning Permits

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xpressdesign · 6 months ago

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Streamline your town planning applications with Xpress Building Design in Melbourne. Our expert team delivers innovative solutions for modern living. Learn more at https://xpressbuildingdesign.com.au/plans-and-permit/

#Town planning applications

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xhyjin · 2 days ago

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yanderenanami! who was your boss when you two first met? you were an intern at the company he worked at, assigned to be his personal assistant and tend to his needs, handling tasks like making reservations, scheduling his appointments/meetings, and basically all the small stuff he couldn’t waste any company time on. your relationship was strictly professional. you two never spoke unless you needed his confirmation on something; other than that, it was pure silence.

yanderenanami! you had been working with him for the past 8 months as an intern, and you were seeing no signs of getting the job permanently. you had no choice; you couldn’t waste any more time as an intern—you had loans to pay off and bills to take care of! when you knocked on his office door and heard a low grumble of “come in,” you walked into his office with your resignation letter behind your back. “mr. nanami, i need you to sign something off for me,” you asked, expecting it to be another application or something for approval. but when you handed him the envelope, he raised an eyebrow. “what’s this?” he said, not even letting you answer as he opened the envelope and read it. looking at you and then the envelope, he said, “you’re quitting?” you nodded, not knowing what to say. he just sighed and signed it off before handing it back to you.

yanderenanami! you walked out of his office dumbfounded by his lack of sympathy. i mean, he didn’t even say goodbye or anything along the lines of “it was great having you here,” but what did you expect? he had always been stoic and nonchalant since the day you started working there. you packed away the little stuff you had on your desk in front of his office, a bit bummed that you didn’t get the job, but you weren’t going to continue working for free. you walked into the elevator, thinking you would never see mr. nanami again either as the elevator doors shut.

yanderenanami! he immediately called one of his buddies when you walked out of his office—the one who was good at keeping tabs and dealing with situations like yours: toji fushiguro. he told him straight up what he needed, which was you, but he wasn’t going to ask toji to kidnap you or anything extreme. he just wanted him to keep track of where you were, who you were with, what you were doing, and all the usual details. that way, he could have some time to plan something out, something special for you.

yanderenanami! who spent weeks planning everything for your “arrival,” setting up cameras in every corner, barricading any exits from the inside, keeping sharp or harmful objects away, and most of all, creating a perfect little room for you to spend your time in. you were going to be there for a long time, and maybe a good time. he had toji along with shiu parked outside your place. It was in the middle of the night, and due to your circumstance, you didn’t live in the best part of town, so cameras or police or civilians were nowhere in sight, which was perfect for him but not perfect for you. he unlocked your door with the duplicate key that toji had made, tiptoeing into your house like a thief and up the stairs to your single bedroom where you lay like a princess in slumber. he carefully placed a cloth on your nose, making sure not to hurt you in the process, and as he felt you fall into an unconscious state that wasn’t slumber, he carefully tossed you over his shoulder before making his way out of the house and into the van that was parked outside.

yanderenanami! who watched you sleep peacefully as shiu drove to nanamis house that was on the other side of town, a gated neighbourhood where only the elites lived, where you would be safe. he knew that shiu and toji might me wondering who you were or why you were in this situation but he didn’t care all that he cared about was that he finally got you and he will never let you go.

yanderenanami! who carried you into his house, which was prepared for your “visit,” carefully taking you up the stairs as you lay unconscious in his arms to the room he had prepared for you. he placed you down on the bed, tucking you in with a faint smile on his lips. he didn’t want you to be scared when you woke up, so he placed a stuffed animal—your favorite—beside you and left the room, his heart beating fast as he couldn’t believe he had you all to himself now.

yanderenanami! who woke up in a panic the next day when he heard your scream but quickly calmed down once he realized what was happening. of course, you would scream—you had fallen asleep in your room, only to wake up in a perfect replica of it, but with an eerie feeling lingering in the air.

he quickly threw on a shirt and sweats, making his way to your room, which was heavily locked and barricaded. when he finally opened the door, he saw you curled up in the corner, legs pulled to your chest as you trembled in fear. but the moment your eyes met his, something shifted.

as he stepped closer, a small smile played on his lips. “relax,” he said, his hands reaching out, almost like how you’d show a dog you were friendly. “you’re safe now, okay? it’s just me.” his voice was calm, reassuring, as he crouched down to your level, gently patting your head.

“i’ve got you now.”

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yanderedrabbles · 1 month ago

Note

I spy with my little eye some new upcoming works 👀

You spy quite well anon. I've updated my WIP list to include ideas I definitely plan to work on as well as some requests. Take a look:

Upcoming Works

Yandere Roommates [dubcon] With your boss mysteriously firing you and your job applications getting lost in the mail, it's no surprise that you can't afford rent this month. Lucky for you, your roommates have a very generous offer.

Yandere Wild West Sheriff: Ain't you just the sweetest lil thing?

Yandere Dictator: He's a high ranking member of the ruling party, with all the wealth and power denied to the working class. And when he says he wants you, that's exactly what he gets.

Dairy of a Vampire: You find a strange book in your husband's library, and on closer inspection, realise every entry is all about you. [Sequel to Letters from a Yandere Vampire]

Yandere Aztec Warrior x Āhuiyani Reader: His body is sworn to war and yours to pleasure. How strange, that you find comfort in each other.

Yandere Sugar Baby: It's not uncommon for a wealthy, older woman to take a younger lover. But the way he looks at you isn't normal at all.

Yandere Witch Hunter x Witch Reader: In a last ditch effort to save yourself from execution, you cast a love spell on the town's witch hunter.

Yandere Aliens [noncon] Human women are the most prized slaves in the galaxy, and when your ship crashes on an unknown planet, it's inhabitants are keen to find out why.

Yandere Southern Gothic Cowboy: He doesn't come to church and you never see him out in the sun. Who exactly is this stranger?

Yandere Rockstar: He's a rockstar punk who wants to fight the whole damn world. But all his songs seem to be about one special person.

Yandere Dragon x Princess Reader: This fairytale isn't what you expect.

Yandere Slasher [noncon] With all your friends dead and no way to escape, you offer the killer something else in exchange for your life.

Yandere Ex-boyfriend [noncon] You wake up to a ship over five hundred million kilometres away from your home planet and an ex desperate to prove his love.

Yandere Pirate x Mermaid Reader: You've seen her time and time again, leaning against the stern and staring out at the horizon. She always seems so melancholy. Maybe a song will help?

There are also quite a few requests about the Yandere Boys ™️ so I'm working on those too.

#The best ideas on here are from my incredibly creative anons #No guarantee on a timeline or concrete date of delivery but they'll be out soon #Hopefully

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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 years ago

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...

#ok. so the guy from school i visited emailed me today like: good news! we unanimously voted to extend u an offer here #so expect the formal offer in the next week. and im like uuuugh i wanna say yes so bad #bc in the us i would have more flexibility in the program than i would in the uk #and my options in the us r either to b a big fish in a small pond at this schoolor a little fish in a big pond at the other #bc this school is underfunded and a bit isolated out in the mountains but the staff r pretty great and big egos dont seem like a big issue #but if i go to the other school its like a big well funded school. the application was like 75 dollars. fuck u and really annoying #and i mean id have to live in new jersey. so in the city with city driving and prob a more high pressure school environment #and more of a chance of dealing with big egos. but like career wise im sure it would b good. assuming i don't mentally collapse #but i mean that doesnt seem as fun as spending 5 years out in the rocky mountains #like thry have fucking moose and bears! there were deer and turkeys in town!#and my dad just sent me a video of all the spring peepers singing back home and im like 😭 bc froggies and he was like i bet u could find #frogs out in [redacted city] and im like 😭 ur right. it just seems like the better choice for my poor overtaxed brain and the project is #so cool too. i want to get the cyano species as my computer background asap. and the guy is nice and apparently super supportive #and i could probably walk to hiking trails. god. i mean i have to say yes to that. i wanna say yes so bad. send me the formal offer bro #ill fucking take it before i even hear back from the other schools lol. ugh. i hate making choices #oof i am so excited to kno where im going and plan my departure. its gonna b such a pain moving tho i pray that my mum or dad can drive #with me bc otherwise the 20hr drive by myself might kill me. thats almost as bad as my initial move out here lol. the us is so big #ugh. again choices. is this the right choice? probably one of the biggest decisions of my life. the project feels so right. cyanobacteria #my algal group of choice. and hot springs. how tf do u say to no to that? i mean. id b doing that in new jersey too but with red algae #ugh. put me out of this misery lol. also as an aside. shout out to my fucking disaster brain for not being able to focus on a single thing #my boss in a meeting: so glad to have students and staff so excited to b working on this project!! me: lady i hate that im on this project #bc im just sitting in until they can get an actual student. i just do what im told but appreciate the enthusiasm lol #ay. im so tired. i wanna see the snow and mountains. and fix my head. and get outta the desert. and listen to frogs 🐸 😌#unrelated

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lizzyiii · 1 month ago

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Pregnancy Scare

pairing | josh washington x fem!reader

word count | 4.9k words

summary | you are slowly pulling away from your boyfriend, Josh, frustrated because of this secret his keeping. Matters only get worse when you realize your period is late.

tags | angst, hurt/comfort, pregnancy scare, mentions of pregnancy, teenagers in love, fluff, mentions of mental illness, confessions, no description of reader

a/n | hey beautiful people, just wanted to say that these are extractions from my actual fanfic on A03, unfortunately it is Josh x OC, but if you guys are interested it's called Echoes Of Us

likes comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

MASTERLIST

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Your mind was racing as you sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the calendar pinned to your wall. The little red circle marking the start of your period last month seemed to mock you now. It had been over a week—a week—and nothing.

Your chest tightened as you buried your face in your hands, letting out a shaky breath. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.

You were eighteen—still figuring everything out, still planning your future. And now the universe had decided to throw you a curveball you weren't ready for.

To make matters worse, you hadn’t spoken to Josh in days. You had been dodging his texts, ignoring his calls, and making every excuse to avoid seeing him when he came back home for the weekend.

It was easier this way. The secrets he’d been keeping had created a wedge between the two of you, and it was suffocating you.

You didn’t know what was worse—the way he would dodge your questions with a charming smile or cheesy joke or the nagging feeling in your gut that he didn’t trust you enough to let you all the way in.

And now? Now, you might be pregnant. Pregnant, for god’s sake. You let out a bitter laugh at the thought. "Eighteen and pregnant. That’ll look great on my college applications."

Your gaze drifted toward your phone on the nightstand. Josh’s name was still at the top of your unread messages. The last one from him was from this morning:

Sun, May 20, 2012,

10:47 AM

Josh: Baby, I’m sorry. Can you just talk to me?

11:19 AM

Josh: Please?

Your stomach churned. The thought of talking to him made you want to scream and cry all at once. What would you even say? That you were furious with him for keeping things from you?

That you weren't sure you could trust him? Or maybe you'd lead with the bombshell that you might be carrying his baby?

Your fingers trembled as you grabbed the unopened pregnancy test from your bag, your heart pounding in your chest. You had driven two towns over to buy it, far enough from Santa Monica that no one you knew could catch you.

Even then, you hadn’t been able to meet the cashier’s eyes as they scanned the box and handed it over.

Now it sat in your hands, small and unassuming, but it felt heavier than anything you'd ever held. A deep groan escaped you as you shoved the box under your pillow, as though hiding it would make it less real. Flopping back onto your bed, you grabbed your phone, hoping for a distraction.

Big mistake.

Your chest tightened as you scrolled through your notifications. A string of unread messages from Josh stared back at you, a silent accusation.

You locked your phone without responding, holding it to your chest. The guilt gnawed at you. Avoiding Josh was one thing, but there were also unread messages from Beth. That was worse. So much worse.

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening. Beth didn’t deserve this. She'd always been the supportive one, the steady one. Ignoring her felt like betraying your friendship.

But how could you face Beth right now? The thought of seeing her filled you with dread. Beth had this uncanny ability to read you like a book—she’d take one look at you and know something was wrong.

You could already picture the concerned tilt of Beth’s head, the gentle but insistent questions, the way she’d push until you cracked.

And then, before you could stop yourself, the words would come spilling out, “Hey, B, guess what? You’re going to be an aunt.”

Just imagining it made your stomach twist into knots. You couldn’t handle that conversation—not with Josh, not with Beth, not with anyone.

The spiral was already beginning, your thoughts circling darker and darker, and you clutched your pillow tightly against your chest as though the pressure might keep you from completely unraveling.

Your breaths were shallow, and you were dangerously close to a full-blown breakdown when the soft buzz of your phone snapped you out of it.

You froze, your heart jumping into your throat. Tentatively, you picked up the phone, half-dreading yet another message from Josh or Beth.

But when you glanced at the screen, you let out a shaky sigh of relief. It wasn’t them.

It was Em.

13:05 PM

Emily: Shopping later?

You stared at the text for a moment, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. Emily’s bluntness was weirdly comforting—it was one of the few things you could count on to stay consistent. You really could use a distraction, something to pull you out of your own head.

13:06 PM

You: Barney's in an hour?

It didn’t take long for Emily to reply.

13:07 PM

Emily: See you there, bitch.

You couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at your lips. For now, you could put everything aside—the unopened test, the missed calls, the terrifying what-ifs—and focus on something mindless.

You tossed your pillow aside, grabbed your purse, and headed out the door. Shopping with Emily wouldn’t fix your problems, but it might give you just enough strength to face them.

“Y’know, I’m surprised Jess isn’t here,” You murmured as you scanned the racks of dresses, running your fingers over the fabric, your thoughts far from the clothes in front of you.

Emily stood beside you, meticulously inspecting each hanger with the precision of someone on a mission.

"Don't get me wrong, I love Jess," Emily replied, her voice casual as she shifted a dress aside. "She’s my best friend, but sometimes… I don’t know. She doesn’t really give the best advice and doesn’t always get... certain things."

You turned to glance at Emily, raising an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Are you calling her dumb, Em?”

Emily laughed softly, shaking her head. "I’m not! Don’t twist my words like that."

But then her laughter faded, her gaze lingering on a dress she wasn’t really looking at. Her lips pursed, and she hesitated before adding, “It’s just… I’ve been having some problems with Mike.”

At the mention of Mike, you let out an audible sigh, unable to hide your disdain.

Emily shot you a sharp side-eye. "What was that sigh for?"

You shrugged, toying absentmindedly with a strand of your hair. “You know I don’t like him.”

"I’ll never understand why," Emily replied with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She pulled a dress from the rack but didn’t even look at it before putting it back. Her tone softened as she admitted, "But… there’s something else."

You frowned, turning your full attention to Emily. "What is it, Em?"

Emily hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with a price tag. “I haven’t slept with him yet,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing to hide the tension in her voice.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline, your surprise evident. Emily noticed and immediately scoffed. "Why the hell are you looking at me like that?"

"I’m not shocked," You said quickly, though your tone betrayed your curiosity. "It’s just… you two have been together for, like, a year."

Emily sighed, crossing her arms defensively. “Yeah, and? Relationships aren’t all about that, you know.”

“I didn’t say they were,” You replied, your voice gentler now. You leaned slightly against the rack, studying Emily’s expression. "But if it’s bothering you, why haven’t you told him?"

Emily hesitated, her shoulders slumping slightly. "It’s not that easy. Mike’s… Mike. He can be so pushy sometimes, and I just—ugh, I don’t know."

You tilted your head, your tone blunt but kind. “If he’s making you feel pressured, that’s not okay, Em. You don’t owe him anything just because you’ve been together a while.”

Emily glanced at you, her guarded expression softening. “It’s not just him. It’s me, too. I guess I feel… guilty? Like I should be ready by now, but I’m just… not.”

You reached out, placing a hand on Emily’s shoulder. "Then that’s his problem, not yours. If Mike really cares about you—and I mean really—he’ll wait. No questions asked."

Emily nodded slowly, exhaling a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Thanks, babe.”

"Anytime," you replied with a small smile. Then you added, unable to resist, “But just for the record, I still think you could do better.”

Emily rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway,” You quipped, a teasing grin on your face as you pulled another dress off the rack. For a moment, the air lightened between you.

But as your eyes wandered, something stopped you cold—the maternity section.

Your heart skipped a beat as your feet carried you there almost instinctively. You reached for a dress, a soft, pink summery thing with a flowy cut.

It was adorable and obviously meant for someone who was heavily pregnant. You stared at it, your mind spiraling. You could almost see yourself in it, your stomach round and heavy with life.

“What the hell are you doing?” Emily’s voice cut through the moment like a knife, startling you.

You jumped, the dress slipping from your hands. You shoved it hastily back onto the rack. “Nothing, Em,” you said, too quickly.

Emily raised a skeptical brow, her sharp eyes darting from you to the maternity section. A slow smirk tugged at her lips. “What, you pregnant or something?” she teased lightly.

You let out a forced laugh, waving your hand dismissively. “What the fuck? No.”

But Emily wasn’t buying it. Her playful expression gave way to something more calculating as she studied you closely. She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Wait... are you?”

“No, Em,” you said, too fast again, your voice dropping to a shaky murmur. You hesitated, then added, “My period’s just late, that’s all.”

Emily’s eyes widened, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “Oh my god,” she whispered, the teasing gone from her tone entirely.

“It’s nothing, Emily,” you snapped, your voice firm but not convincing. “I swear. Don’t make a big deal about it, okay?”

Emily nodded, her lips pursed like she wasn’t entirely convinced. Then, with a glance at you, she reached out and plucked the pink dress from the rack.

She held it up, studying it for a moment before saying, “If you are, you know you can’t keep it, right?”

You froze, your stomach dropping like a stone. “Why?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Emily shrugged, her tone casual, almost flippant. “Because we’d be terrible moms.”

You frowned, your chest tightening. “Why would I be a terrible mom?” you asked, trying to sound indifferent but failing miserably.

“Don’t take it personally, Hon,” Emily replied with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “It’s just… we all turn into our parents eventually, right? And I mean, as soon as Junior you hits puberty, Senior you becomes a bitter bitch. It’s just how it goes.”

Your jaw clenched as you looked away, your gaze landing on the dress again. Emily’s words were meant to be casual, maybe even a joke, but they stung.

You swallowed hard, willing yourself not to cry. Somehow, your already bad day had just gotten worse.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring down at the pregnancy test in your trembling hands. Your eyes were fixed on the single, unbroken line in the tiny window.

Not pregnant.

You should’ve felt relief. You wanted to feel relief. But all that settled in your chest was a heavy, hollow ache. Emily’s words echoed in your mind like a cruel mantra: We’d be terrible moms.

A lump formed in your throat as your grip tightened on the plastic stick. No, you thought fiercely. I wouldn’t be like that. You'd try. You'd try so damn hard to make your baby happy, to protect them from everything. You'd do better. You could do better.

But none of that mattered now. You weren't pregnant.

Distantly, you heard the doorbell ring, followed by your mother’s sharp, impatient voice cutting through the quiet of the house. “Get the door!”

You exhaled shakily, breaking out of your thoughts. You tossed the test into the trash with more force than necessary, the hollow clink of plastic against metal strangely satisfying.

With a sigh, you got to your feet and headed for the door, leaving the hollow ache behind—or at least trying to.

You froze when you opened the door, your heart leaping into your throat as you stared at Josh’s face. His green eyes, wide and pleading, met yours, and for a moment, all you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Josh cleared his throat, looking a little sheepish as he murmured, “Can I come in?”

You didn’t trust your voice, so you just nodded and stepped aside, letting him cross the threshold. He slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind them.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, before reaching out and thrusting a bouquet of pink peonies into your hands. “These are for you.”

You blinked, surprised by the gesture. The delicate flowers felt out of place in your clammy grip, and all you could manage was a quiet, “Thanks.” You set the bouquet on a nearby table, your movements awkward and uncertain.

Josh stuffed his hands into his jean pockets, his shoulders hunched slightly as he asked, “Can we talk?”

You nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. Just... let’s go to my room. My mom’s in one of her moods.”

Josh followed you down the hall, his footsteps slow and tentative. Once inside your room, he closed the door softly, his gaze roaming the familiar space.

The walls were decorated with photos of all of you together—laughing at the beach, posing at school events, arms slung around each other.

Your bed was piled high with stuffed animals, and posters of The Cranberries and ABBA lined the walls. It hadn’t changed since the last time he’d been here, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

Josh took a deep breath, running a hand through his messy hair as he perched on the edge of your bed. His knee bounced nervously, the movement betraying the calm he was trying to project. “So... I’m sure you’re wondering why I came here.”

You stood stiffly near your vanity, arms crossed tightly over your chest. Your gaze was guarded, your tone biting as you replied, “No, not really. I’m just hoping for an explanation—any explanation, really.”

Josh winced at your words but managed a dry chuckle. “Yeah, I figured as much.”

He looked up at you, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, self-deprecating smile, “I know I’ve been a really shitty boyfriend. And I’m so sorry for all the crappy things I’ve done. But... I don’t want to lose you, baby. I really don’t.”

You leaned against your vanity, your fingers gripping the edge as though it could steady you. Your voice softened slightly, but the edge of frustration still lingered. “But that’s not the truth, Josh.”

He looked away, guilt flickering across his face. Of course, you'd call him out. There was no way he’d get off that easily. “Yeah...” he murmured, his voice low. “That’s what I need to explain.”

Your silence was heavy, expectant.

Josh sighed, his hands rubbing over his jeans as if to release the tension coiling inside him. “I was hoping you’d just... I don’t know... kinda understand without me having to say it out loud.” He shook his head, a sad smile flickering briefly before fading. “But that’s not fair to you.”

He paused, his throat tightening as he tried to find the words. “I love you, baby. I don’t know how else to say it. I love you so much it scares the hell out of me sometimes."

Your voice cracked as tears welled in your eyes. “How about showing it, Josh?” you said, your words trembling. “I’m not trying to push you away—I’m holding on for dear life—but I need you to need me back.”

The sight of you breaking made Josh’s heart twist painfully. He stood, his movements slow and deliberate, before wrapping his arms tightly around you.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, his voice soft and pleading.

“Don’t cry, baby. Please don’t cry. I promise you—I do need you.” He pressed his lips to your hair, holding you like you might disappear.

You sobbed against his chest, your hands pushing weakly against him as you choked out, “Then why won’t you just tell me? Why do you need the medication? Where do you go when you disappear? Why won’t you let me all the way in?!”

Your words cut deeper than any knife, and Josh felt his resolve crumbling. He hated this—the way he was hurting you, the way his silence was tearing the two of you apart. He tightened his grip on you as though that alone could keep you two from unraveling completely.

“Baby…” He trailed off, his voice heavy with guilt. He couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes. How could he tell you?

How could he say the words he’d been terrified to utter? But lying—or saying nothing—would only hurt you more.

He took another shaky breath, his throat tightening as he finally said it. “Because I’m sick. Okay?”

You pulled back slightly, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean... sick?”

Josh’s hands tightened slightly on your waist as he closed his eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. “I-I have schizophrenia. I was diagnosed when I was twelve.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and raw. He couldn’t bear to look at you, couldn’t face the possibility of seeing disgust—or worse, pity—in your eyes.

“What?” your voice was small, almost inaudible, as you stared up at him, your tears momentarily forgotten.

Josh finally forced himself to look at you, his green eyes wide with vulnerability. “I didn’t want you to know because... because I was scared. Scared of how you’d see me. Scared of losing you.”

His voice cracked, and he ran a hand through his hair. “I hear things that aren’t there. I see things. I have these thoughts I can’t control, and... I didn’t want you to think I was crazy.”

Your heart sank as the weight of his confession settled over you. You reached up, cupping his face with trembling hands. “Josh,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the tears slipping down your cheeks. “You’re not crazy. You’re... you’re Josh.”

His furrowed his brows, and for a moment, he looked as though he couldn’t believe your words. “You don’t... you don’t think I’m broken?”

You shook your head firmly, your trembling hands still cradling his face. “You’re not broken, Josh. You’re human. And if you’re scared, let me be scared with you. I want to be here for you. But you have to let me.”

Josh’s throat tightened as he pulled you into his arms, holding you against his chest like you were his lifeline. He buried his face in your hair, his voice barely a whisper. “You still love me,” he murmured, attempting to lighten the heavy moment.

You scoffed, your voice muffled against his shirt. “Of course, I still love you, you idiot.”

Josh let out a quiet laugh, the sound soft and relieved. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands sliding up to cup your cheeks.

Gently, he brushed away the tears still clinging to your skin with his thumbs. “I know, I know—I’m an idiot. Just... stop crying, okay? It’s killing me.”

You let out a thick chuckle, sniffing as you wiped at your face with the back of your hand. “Fine, but you owe me a whole box of chocolates for this.”

“Deal,” Josh said, his lips quirking into a small, crooked smile. His hands slipped to your waist, anchoring you as though he was scared to let go.

You stepped back slightly, giving him a sheepish look. “Wanna stay for a movie? Something light, maybe?”

Josh smirked, tilting his head as though considering your suggestion. “Only if it’s horror.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “You call that light? Fine, but if I scream, you’re paying for my therapy.”

“Deal,” Josh said again, his voice warm and playful now.

“Alright,” you said, gesturing toward the bed. “Pick something while I go freshen up. And no weird indie stuff this time, I mean it.”

Josh raised his hands in mock surrender, a light grin tugging at his lips. “Scout’s honor. But no rom-coms either—I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

As you disappeared into the bathroom, Josh sat on the edge of your bed, trying to collect his thoughts. But something caught his eye, and his heart skipped a beat.

A small object was sticking out of the trash can beside your desk. His hand reached out almost instinctively, and his fingers closed around a small white stick—a pregnancy test.

Josh’s pulse quickened as he stared at it, feeling a knot form in his stomach. A small part of him prayed it would be negative, that the whole situation would be a misunderstanding, something you two could laugh off later.

The air around him suddenly felt thick, suffocating. A tidal wave of emotions crashed over him: happiness, fear, panic, and confusion.

He sat there, frozen for a moment, staring at the test in his hand as if it were some sort of cruel joke. Was he really about to become a father? At nineteen? Was he ready for this?

The sound of your voice broke through his haze, pulling him back to reality. “Josh?”

He looked up, his face pale, still holding the test between his fingers. The words felt heavy on his tongue, but they spilled out anyway.

“You’re… pregnant,” he said quietly, his gaze still locked on you as if the reality of it hadn’t fully hit him yet.

Your eyes flicked down to the test in his hand, and you let out a deep, small sigh. “Josh, it’s one line. That means negative,” you said, walking closer to him.

Josh’s heart thudded in his chest, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He glanced down at the test again, now noticing how the faintest second line appeared to be nothing more than a shadow.

Josh swallowed hard, the embarrassment still fresh as he asked again, “It’s negative?”

You nodded softly, your shoulders slumping with a mixture of relief and lingering unease. “Yeah, it’s negative,” you murmured before sitting down beside him, your hands clasped tightly in her lap. “My period was late, and I just… I was so scared, Josh. I didn’t know what to do.”

He nodded slowly, letting out a breath as he placed the test back in the trashcan. “Well… it’s a good thing it’s negative, right?” His voice was light, almost hesitant, as if trying to gauge how you felt.

You didn’t respond right away. Your gaze was distant, fixed on the trashcan. “I told Emily,” you said quietly, her voice carrying a hint of sadness.

Josh frowned, his concern deepening. “What did she say?” he asked gently, noticing how your mood had darkened, your shoulders tightening.

Your lips trembled as you tried to keep your composure. “She said… she said I shouldn’t keep it if I was pregnant. That I’d make a terrible mom,” you said, your voice breaking slightly as you blinked back tears.

Josh’s eyes widened in disbelief, a flash of anger rising in his chest. “Why the hell would she say that?”

He shook his head, his expression softening as he turned towards you. “That’s such a shitty thing to say. Baby, you’d be an awesome mom someday.”

You shook your head, your pout deepening as you murmured, “She said we all turn out like our parents. And if I had a baby, I’d just end up like my mom… a bitter bitch.” Your voice cracked slightly, and you leaned your head against his shoulder for support.

Josh let out a soft sigh, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer so you were nestled against his chest. “That’s total bullshit. You're not a bitch, and you could never be one either. You have the biggest heart I know, and— and any kid would be lucky to have you as their mom.” he said firmly, rubbing your back in soothing circles.

You glanced up at him, your wide eyes shining with both doubt and hope. “Do you… do you want babies?” you asked softly, your voice laced with hesitation.

Josh blinked, the question catching him off guard. He leaned back slightly, thinking it over. “I… yeah, I think I do,” he admitted after a moment, his tone gentle but honest.

“It’s scary to think about, you know? But yeah… I’d really like that someday.” He smiled down at you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words. You bit your lip before asking hesitantly, “With me?”

Josh let out a soft laugh, cupping your cheek as he tilted your face up to meet his gaze. “Of course with you, silly. Who else would I want that with? You’re the only person I can imagine having a family with.”

A small, genuine smile broke across your face, warmth spreading through your chest. You tilted your head up slowly, your heart pounding as you closed the distance between the two of you.

Your lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss, the kind that made you feel like the world had melted away.

When you finally pulled apart, Josh rested his forehead against yours, his hands cradling your face. “See? You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

You let out a small, watery laugh, your fingers brushing away a stray tear. “You’re really good at this pep talk thing, you know, Mr Washington?”

“Hey, someone’s gotta be, Mrs Washington,” he teased with a grin, pulling you closer.

For the first time in a few months, you felt lighter, as though the storm clouds in your mind had started to part.

You didn’t know what the future held, but as long as Josh was by your side, you knew you could face anything.

#josh washington x reader #josh x reader #until dawn #until dawn fic #josh washington #josh washington x you #josh washington x fem reader #until dawn josh #josh washington fanfic

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