#sorry for doing a man first in this series

[thecuriousbeauty]

Under His Watch-Part 1 (Harry Styles x reader)

Series synopsis: Y/N, an ambitious FBI intern, joins the homicide department, where she catches the eye of the brooding head detective, Harry Styles. As they tackle high-stakes cases together, Y/N uncovers a side of Harry no one else sees. Are they just boss and intern, or something more?

Word count: 9.1k

A/N:- Hello everyone, so sorry for being gone for a while, but I'm back with something new that I hope you guys will love! This is going to be a short, two part series so like it up and reblog so I can get the second part out soon!

Warnings: Talks of murder, drug dealings, killings, crime scenes, violence, usage of gun. No smut in this part, but definitely in the next;)

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The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a soft, golden light through the open window. The air feels fresh, but with a touch of warmth that hints at the summer heat to come. Birds chirp in the distance, their songs a gentle reminder of the new day. A light breeze stirs the curtains, carrying the scent of flowers blooming outside.

In a small, cozy bedroom, y/n stands before her mirror. She fidgets with her clothes, unsure whether the outfit is too formal or too casual for her first day at work. She has seen agents usually wear suits, but she opted for a dark blue buttoned shirt and pants, because she was just starting as an intern. Her fingers tremble slightly as she adjusts her hair, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling inside her. Her heart races, each beat echoing the uncertainty of what’s to come.

She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. The thought of the day ahead makes her stomach flutter—so many unknowns, so many new faces, and yet, the possibility of something great. She smiles at her reflection, trying to reassure herself. Beneath the jitters, there’s a spark—an energy that comes from stepping into something new, a sense of potential.

She checks the time and realizes she’s running a little late.The world outside is already awake, and so is she, ready to take on whatever her first day at work will bring.

Y/N doesn’t know when she decided to pursue a career as a detective. Maybe it was all the detective shows she used to watch with her father as a kid, or maybe it was the numerous novels she’d read. She loves the suspense, the mystery, and figuring out all the little clues. She loves the thrill of it. And now, as a result of her hard work and dedication, she has gotten into the FBI’s internship program.

The actual, Federal Bureau of Investigation. 

The FBI building looms like a fortress in the heart of the city, its imposing, angular structure made of dark granite and steel. The air is thick with history and authority, as if the walls themselves hold the secrets of countless investigations. As she takes her detective steps through the sliding glass doors, the buzz of activity inside is palpable. Agents in suits walk briskly through the sleek, modern lobby, while the hum of conversation fills the space with a sense of purpose.

The hallways are lined with framed photos of notable cases and agents, a constant reminder of the legacy the building holds. The lighting is stark, the floors polished to a mirror shine, and the walls adorned with maps and classified files that hint at the work being done behind closed doors. It’s both overwhelming and exhilarating—this is where the nation’s most pressing cases unfold.

“Oh, Miss y/l/n, right on time!”,  she hears before she sees none other than one of her superiors, part of the homicide department, Agent Eliza Carter. She had taken her interview. The woman held two coffees, and gave her the same kind smile she had given her that day.

“Good morning, Agent Carter!”

“Morning to you too. Sorry, I forgot to mention, you’ll be with homicide this month, probably another department for the next, and so on. Boss man’s just about to start the meeting, so come on quick!”

“Right. Do you know anything about the case?”

Her heels click behind her as she follows the agent, her eyes continuing to look around, absorbing everything around her. 

“Oh yeah, this is actually an old case. A really annoying one, you’ll see. Harry will brief us anyway.”

Harry. Detective Agent Harry Styles. 

Head of the homicide department, and one of the most renowned and respected figures in the field. His reputation precedes him: sharp, methodical, and almost legendary in his ability to solve cases that others can’t even begin to crack. She had heard stories about his brilliant mind, how he could piece together the smallest details that everyone else overlooked. The thought of getting to learn directly from him sends a rush of nervous energy through her veins.

“Can you get the door please?”, Eliza asks, and y/n quickly swings the glass door open for her, and then steps in herself, into the big room where there were around seven people gathered. All of them in matching suits, discussing amongst each other as they stared at the boards pinned with information about their cases. 

“Everyone, this is y/n y/l/n, our new intern, she’s gonna be with us for this month!”, Eliza introduces, handing one of the coffees to a man, who also gives y/n a smile. “Hello, I’m Ethan Grant.” 

The others also started introducing themselves, most of them friendly and smiling, two of them only giving her a nod, to which Eliza rolled her eyes. 

“Styles running late?”, Agent Cole Matthews asks as he looks at his watch. 

“I saw him getting a call, he had that face on.”, Nora says. She had short silver hair, and dark blue eyes, that looked like she would kill you if you pissed her off.

“Oh no, that can’t be good.”, Eliza shook her head.

“Face?”, y/n asks the girls who just smile at each other, Nora gives her a wink. “You’ll see.”

The door swings open with a quiet click, and Detective Harry Styles steps into the room, his presence immediately commanding attention. Tall and impeccably dressed in a dark suit that fits just right, he exudes a quiet authority. His broad shoulders and confident stride catch the eye, but it’s his sharp jawline and the faint stubble along his chin that hint at a more rugged edge beneath his polished exterior.

His eyes—piercing, yet thoughtful—scan the room as he steps forward, his gaze pausing just long enough to meet each of their eyes, an unspoken understanding passing through the group. The way he moves is purposeful, the air around him almost charged with intensity, as if every step he takes is measured, calculated.

Then his eyes meet hers, eyebrows raising up in question. “New intern, boss.”, Ethan says. 

She acts quickly to introduce herself, “I’m y/n, it’s such a pleasure to-”

“We’re still talking interns?”, he rudely cuts her off, and her lips seal shut at his tone. 

“Yes we’re doing rotations this year, Harry, they must have given you a form to sign.”, Eliza said, and Harry let out a sigh, not even batting a single eye in y/n’s direction, turning around to the projector. 

“Whatever. Let’s get to work, we have a busy day ahead of us.”

Y/N’s heart sinks. She’d imagined this moment so differently—she thought he’d at least say something encouraging, maybe give her a quick nod of acknowledgment. But instead, there’s only the cold, impersonal air of the office, and his complete disregard.

“We’re dealing with a 30-year-old man named Charles Russo. He's been on our radar before but slipped through the cracks. He’s involved in drug trafficking, but this isn’t just about drugs—it’s about control. He’s a key figure in a network that stretches across the city, and he’s responsible for at least three recent murders tied to his operations.”

A photograph of Russo appears on the projector screen—a mugshot from a previous arrest, his face hard and defiant, his eyes cold. Styles gestures to the image.

“This is our suspect. Russo has managed to stay under the radar for months, but he’s back in the game. We have intel from one of his associates that he’s been laying low, but now we’ve gotten wind of him resurfacing. We know he’s been making contact with his former contacts in the drug trade, and his movements have been tracked to the outskirts of the city.”

He pauses, letting the gravity of the situation sink in. The team leans forward, eyes narrowing as they take in every word.

“We can’t afford to let him slip away again,” Harry continues. “He’s ruthless. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t hesitate to kill anyone who gets in his way. The last time he disappeared, it took months for us to get any leads. We’re not going to make that mistake again.”

“So what’s the plan?”, Nora asks.

Harry points to a map on the wall. The area surrounding an old industrial district near the city’s border is highlighted in red.

“We’ve got a lead. A tip from an anonymous source says Russo is meeting with one of his suppliers here,” Harry explains, tapping the map. “We’ll be setting up surveillance teams around this location. We’re going to hit him where we know he feels comfortable. His old contacts will be there, and that’s our chance to bring him in.”

He looks at his team, making sure they understand the stakes. "This won't be easy. Russo knows how to cover his tracks, and he won't hesitate to go violent if he thinks he's cornered. I want everyone to stay sharp, no mistakes. We’ll have undercover agents in place, and our best tech team will be monitoring the area for any sign of movement.”

He glances at y/n, the intern who’s been quietly taking notes in the back. His voice softens just slightly, but still firm.

“You’re going to work with Carter and Grant to run background checks on Russo’s known associates. I want every detail—every business transaction, every phone call, every scrap of information you can dig up. It could be the key to finding him faster. Can you do that?”

“Yes sir.” She nods quickly, her mind racing. This is her chance to contribute, to prove herself, and she’s not about to let it slip away.

“Once we have enough intel, we move in. Fast, clean, and without hesitation. Our goal is to catch him off guard,” Harry finishes, his gaze sweeping over his team. “I expect everyone to be in sync. This guy has evaded us long enough. Let’s make sure it ends tonight.”

The room falls into a focused silence as everyone gets to work. The plan is set, and the wheels are already in motion. 

Eliza shows y/n her desk, and Ethan quickly shows her all the technology, y/n didn’t need much explaining, she was familiar with it all. She had even taken up courses in coding and hacking. 

Finally, it’s time to attack. Officers bustle around, adjusting their gear, making final checks on equipment, and running through last-minute details. The hum of radios, the clinking of handcuffs, and the soft rustling of jackets fill the air as the room feels like it’s on the verge of something big. y/n stands off to the side, a little on edge as she watches Harry gather the team for their final briefing. His green eyes scan the room with that characteristic sharpness, giving quick instructions to the officers heading to different positions. 

With a deep breath, she approaches Harry as he finishes talking to Detective Logan Pierce. Her pulse quickens, and she straightens her shoulders. This is it.

“Detective Styles,” she begins, trying to keep her voice steady, “I was wondering if—if I could come along. I know I’m new, but I’ve been following everything closely, and I’m ready. I can help in any way I can.”

Harry looks at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. There’s a brief silence before he responds, his voice calm but firm. “You’re not ready for this kind of field work. This operation is too high-risk, and it’s not something you should be thrown into on your first day. I need you back here, where you can handle communication, and make sure we stay on track. You’ll be a key part of this, just not in the way you expect.”

She feels a small pang of disappointment, but it’s quickly replaced by a sense of clarity. He’s right. She’s still learning the ropes. The reality of the danger in the field is something she can’t ignore. But at the same time, the disappointment doesn’t sting as much as she thought it would. She’s still going to play a crucial role.

“Understood,” she says, nodding as she pushes her feelings aside. She can feel a sense of purpose rising in her chest. “I’ll stay in touch with the agents, make sure everything runs smoothly. I’ll be ready to react if anything goes wrong.”

A flicker of approval crosses Harry’s face, though he doesn't show it fully. “Good luck!”, she can’t help but call out as Harry reaches for his own bullet proof suit and a hint of a smirk crosses his lips. 

It was so brief, that she wondered if she had really seen it, or if she had imagined it.

The night is thick with tension as the operation unfolds, the air heavy with the weight of what’s at stake. Outside the industrial district, the team is in position, each agent hidden in shadows, waiting for the signal to move. Inside the precinct, y/n is stationed at her desk, headphones on, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she tracks the operation. Her eyes are focused on the live feeds from the surveillance cameras set up around the district, her mind sharp and alert.

The plan is simple—surround Russo and catch him in the act. The agents are ready, but they need to stay in constant contact. That’s where she comes in. She’s the lifeline,watching the feeds, listening to their transmissions, and keeping them updated. She had earpieces connected to Harry and Cole, who had teams on both doors of the warehouse.

Through the earpiece, the voice of Agent Logan Pierce crackles to life. “y/l/n,we’re about to move in on Russo. He’s on the move—heading toward the south side of the warehouse. We need a visual confirmation. Is he coming into our range?”

Y/N’s heart pounds in her chest, but she keeps her voice steady. “Got him. He’s moving east toward the rear entrance. You’ve got about thirty seconds before he reaches the blind spot. You need to move fast.”

“Copy that,” Pierce responds. “We’re moving in now.”

y/n watches the screen, heart racing as she tracks Russo’s every step, eyes darting between the surveillance feeds and the map on her screen. Every second feels like an eternity. She checks her watch, counts the seconds in her head. Then, suddenly, he disappeared.

“Shit.”, she says, trying to figure out where the piece of shit is headed now.

“I hope I didn’t just hear you say shit while monitoring one of the most important cases, newbie.”, she hears Agent Styles, and her cheeks redden a little bit, but she focuses on the task.

“Sorry, you need to wait, Agent Pierce, I’ve lost him.”

“You’ve lost him? What do you mean? He’s right here-”

“-No, I think..I think he’s coming around from the other door. Agent Styles?”

He answers immediately while y/n works on a way to monitor Russo again, “Yes, are you sure it’s not a connectivity problem or-.”

“I think he’s on your side.”

“Oh yeah? That mother fucker. Guys, close in.”

“Wait, y/n, are you sure? Cause this might be the last chance we have to get him and one mistake-”, Cole begins, a little unsure.

The image on the monitor shifts—Russo steps into the frame. 

“Agent Styles, he’s about to break through—wait for it—now!”

The moment she speaks, Harry and the rest of the team spring into action. They converge on Russo in a synchronized move, cutting off his escape route before he can even react. There’s a flurry of movement, the sound of boots pounding on the ground, and then, within seconds, Russo is tackled to the ground, handcuffed and subdued.

A burst of static fills her earpiece, followed by Harry’s voice. “We got him. He’s down. Nice work, y/n. You nailed it.”

He called her by her name for the first time and the compliment made her heart race in a way she hadn’t expected. She blinks, her breath catching in her throat. Styles—the man she had been eager to impress—had just complimented her, and it felt like everything she’d hoped for.

“Thanks,” she replies, trying to keep her composure. “I just did what I could.”

“Well you’re the first newbie to actually not piss me off on their first day. You can go home, y/n, enough for the day. We’ll bring him in.”

Y/N exhales slowly, a rush of adrenaline flooding her veins. Her hands shake just a little as she removes her headset, a smile creeping up her face. They did it. They caught Russo, and she was the one who helped make it happen. For the first time since walking into this precinct, she feels like she truly belongs.

___________________________________________________

Over the next few days, she really fit in with the team members. She especially loved talking with the girls, Nora and Eliza. They’re laughing about the latest office drama—how Agent Matthews accidentally spilled coffee all over Harry’s favorite jacket this morning.

“I swear, it’s like he doesn’t even notice how clumsy he is,” Nora says, shaking her head with a grin. “But Styles—he’s always so cool, never says a word. You’d think he’d be fuming after that.”

y/n chuckles, feeling more at ease in their company. "I bet he was just silently judging him in that typical Styles way. You know the look I'm talking about, right?"

Eliza laughs, leaning in. “Oh, absolutely. The silent judgment is his trademark. But I’m surprised he didn’t rip Pierce a new one.”

y/n finds herself grinning at the camaraderie, feeling like she’s starting to fit into the team’s dynamic. It���s easy, the way they talk, tease, and laugh together. 

She decides to stay back a little longer that day, her eyes skim through the pages—cold cases from years ago, some unsolved, others with only the vaguest of leads. She’s been digging into them to understand the bigger picture of how the team operates, trying to learn from the cases they’ve solved, and the ones they’ve left behind.

Her focus is interrupted by the soft sound of footsteps approaching. She looks up to see Harry, his coat over his arm and his briefcase in hand. He stops a few steps away, his gaze lingering on the pile of files she’s working through.

Her gaze lingered on his arm, his sleeve rolled up enough for the ink on his forearm to peek through. She could see the dark outline of a tattoo—a design she’d never noticed before—curving around his wrist and disappearing beneath the cuff of his shirt. The way the ink curled around his skin made her wonder how many more he had hidden beneath his clothes.

She couldn’t help but admire the way his sleeves clung to his muscular arms, the sharp lines of his body defining his form. His green eyes were a striking contrast to his skin, deep and captivating. They always seemed to hold a quiet storm, a vulnerability masked behind his professional exterior. The way his curls fell around his forehead, slightly unruly, added a touch of ruggedness to his otherwise polished look.

There was something magnetic about his distinct features, something that caught her attention all the time.

“You’re still here?” he asks, voice quiet, as if genuinely surprised she hasn’t already left for the day. There’s something in his tone that feels different, not judgmental, but more... curious. Maybe even a little approving.

y/n clears her throat, trying not to seem too caught up in the files. “Yeah. Just trying to catch up on some of the old cases. Figured it’s a good way to learn how you all approach things.”

Harry studies her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before setting his briefcase down and taking a few steps closer. “You’ve got the right idea. We learn a lot from the cases we didn’t solve. The ones that slip through our fingers.”

She nods, feeling the weight of the truth in his words. “I’ve noticed that. Some of these cases... they’re so close to being solved, but there’s always one missing piece.” She pauses, flipping to a specific file that’s particularly puzzling. “What do you think about this one? A string of disappearances in a small town, no evidence left behind. It’s like they just vanished.”

Harry glances down at the file she’s holding, leaning over slightly, his voice low and contemplative. “Sometimes it’s not the evidence you’re looking for, but the pattern behind it. Whoever did this knew how to cover their tracks. But if you look at the people involved—especially the families, the connections between them—you might find something that doesn’t belong.”

“Thanks for that,” she says, her voice more sincere than usual. “I wasn’t sure if I was overthinking it.”

Harry gives a small, almost imperceptible smile, his usual stoic demeanor softening just a little. “You’re thinking in the right direction. Just keep pushing yourself. That’s how we get better at this job.”

She smiles in return, feeling a little more confident in her approach. Harry glances at his watch, then looks back at her. “Well, if you’re going to keep at it, you’ll need a little company. I was planning to head out, but it’s quieter here than usual.”

y/n looks up in surprise. “You’re staying?” she asks, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Not really,” he says, his tone dry, but there’s a flicker of something softer in his eyes. “Just thought I’d walk you out. It’s late. Wouldn’t want you to be walking to your car alone.”

Her surprise morphs into a small, grateful smile. “That’s... considerate of you. Thanks.”

He offers a slight nod, then gestures toward the door. “Come on, then. Let’s get out of here.”

The two of them walk out together, the quiet hum of the office behind them. Outside, the evening air is crisp, the sky darkening as they make their way across the parking lot.

As they approach their cars, y/n hesitates for a moment, then turns to him. “You’ve been doing this for a long time, huh? The whole... detective thing. How do you keep from getting burned out?”

Harry pauses, his hand resting on the door handle of his car. He looks at her, his expression momentarily distant, as if reflecting on the years of work behind him.

“It’s not about not getting burned out,” he says quietly, “It’s about finding what keeps you going. Whether it’s the people you work with or the cases that pull you in, you have to find something that reminds you why you do it.”

y/n nods, absorbing his words as they linger in the cool air between them.

With that, he starts his engine and pulls away, leaving y/n standing in the quiet parking lot for a moment. She watches his car disappear down the road, wondering what led him into pursuing this career.

___________________________________________

The next day, the guys are gathered around a table near the bullpen, eyes glued to a sports game playing on the office TV. The game is close, Ethan and Cole are already arguing over who’s going to win the match.

“Come on, you’re seriously betting on them?” Ethan snorts, shaking his head. “They’ve been playing like amateurs.”

y/n can’t help but overhear, the playful banter catching her attention. She’s not usually one for sports, but she’s been learning the ropes from her fellow agents. She knows enough to get by, and today, something about the challenge calls to her.

“Alright, alright, I’ll bite,” she says, walking over with a raised eyebrow. “How much are we betting here?”

Ethan looks up, surprised, then grins. “Didn’t think you’d be interested, y/n. You sure you know what you’re getting into?”

She smirks, her confidence growing. “I’m a quick learner. I’ll take your bet. I’m putting my money on the underdogs.”

Cole raises an eyebrow. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that. This’ll be fun.”

As the game continues, the guys teasingly rib her for her risky bet, but y/n holds her ground, getting increasingly into the match. When the underdogs actually pull off the win, she’s the first one to stand up, pumping her fist in victory.

“Told you,” she says, beaming with pride as the guys groan good-naturedly. “Pay up, gentlemen.”

“Yes, we’ll be there soon, got it.” They all look up at the sound of their boss, who comes into the room, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Murder scene in Oak Drive, let’s go.”, Harry tells them, and everyone gets onto their feet, getting ready to go.

y/n goes to her desk as usual, knowing she’ll be given the duty of doing the background checks.

“Who’re you riding with Styles?”, Logan asks him.

Harry straps on his gun, and looks at y/n. “Can you drive?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Come on, then, newbie, let’s go to your first murder scene.”

y/n almost squealed with joy, jumping up in excitement, but then toned it down as Harry raised his eyebrows, waiting for her answer.

“Yes sir, right away.”

The car ride is quiet, with a subtle tension between them, an unspoken understanding, a quiet connection that neither has acknowledged. y/n's fingers tighten around the steering wheel as they approach the crime scene. He can’t help but steal a glance at y/n—she’s focused, eyes sharp, her thoughts clearly already at the scene ahead.

“You aren’t gonna faint, are you?”, Harry asks, breaking the silence. “Cause one of the interns did, seeing all the blood.”

She laughed lightly. “Nope, I’m excited, and I’m good with blood.”

“Good.”, Harry lets a small smile escape, and she pulls over to the crime scene. The other agents have already reached and are doing their allotted work. 

"Alright, you’ll handle the photos for now. We’ll take care of the rest."

Y/N nods, grabbing her camera from the seat beside her, trying to steady her nerves. She’s been given more responsibility lately, and with Harry’s subtle support, she’s been slowly gaining confidence.

 "Got it. I'll make sure to get everything."

As she moves closer to the crime scene, Y/N kneels by the body, snapping photos of the surroundings. Her heart beats a little faster as she works, but the adrenaline feels good. And while the scene before her is dark, there’s something about Harry’s quiet faith in her that makes her feel capable. She captures the details—each angle, each small clue—as if she’s been doing this for years. She steals a glance back at Harry, catching him watching her from a distance. For a moment, she wonders if he sees something more than just a hard-working intern.

As the team works around her, Harry steps away briefly to speak with the others, but his eyes flick back to her every so often. Y/N can feel it—his attention on her, the weight of it—but for now, she’s focused on her task. Still, there’s a strange pull between them, unspoken, but undeniable, lingering in the air like the tension of the scene itself.

Harry wants to leave soon, to talk to someone and take y/n with him, this time, he drives. As they pull away from the crime scene, Harry’s eyes are focused on the road, but his mind is already on the next step. Y/N’s still processing everything they’ve seen.

“So, what’s your take on this case so far?"

Y/N pauses, glancing up at him. She can tell he’s genuinely interested in her opinion.

“I think the victim knew the killer. Too many personal details for it to be random, but the motive’s still unclear."

Harry nods thoughtfully. "I agree. That’s why I’m going to talk to the first suspect now. Stay sharp—this could get tricky."

Y/N feels a small thrill at his trust in her judgment. It’s not just about the case anymore; it’s the way he values her input. As they drive toward the suspect’s location, she wonders if he’s giving her more responsibility on purpose, or if it’s just part of the job. Either way, it feels like a step forward.

After questioning the suspect, Harry and Y/N head back to the office, the car cutting through the quiet streets. Y/N’s mind is still on the conversation with the suspect, but then..her stomach growls loudly.

Harry glances over at her, his eyes sharp but gentle.

"Did you eat anything this morning?"

Y/N flushes slightly, trying to keep her cool, but the guilt is written all over her face.

"Yeah, I—"

"You didn’t eat, did you?"

Y/N shifts uncomfortably.

"I’m fine, really."

Harry sighs, shaking his head with a small smile."We’re making a stop. You’re getting something to eat. I know a good taco place.”

He turns the car off the main road, pulling into a small taco place. The smell of sizzling meat and fresh tortillas drifts through the air as they step out, and Harry opens the door for her, his usual professionalism replaced with a kind of care.

As they sit at a small booth, Y/N digs into her food, finally letting herself relax. Harry watches her for a moment, the glint of something unreadable in his eyes. After a few bites, she glances up at him.

"So, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you always so grumpy? You’re like... a walking storm cloud sometimes."

Harry chokes on his drink a little, caught off guard by her boldness. He laughs—genuinely, with a surprised smile that softens his usually serious face.

He chuckles and wipes his mouth. "Grumpy? I’m not grumpy. I’m just... focused."

Y/N raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Focused, huh? Is that what you’re calling it?"

Harry shrugs, his smirk turning wry, clearly amused by her bluntness."Okay, maybe I’m a little grumpy. But someone’s gotta keep this place in line. You can’t just go around smiling all the time like everything’s sunshine and rainbows."

Y/N laughs, and for a second, their eyes meet. There’s an ease between them now, something playful, yet still with an undercurrent of something deeper. Harry’s usual walls are lower, and Y/N’s teasing is making him more human in her eyes.

"I don’t know, sometimes I think it wouldn’t hurt to see you smile a little more. Just... not at the crime scene, please."

Harry chuckles again, and it’s the kind of laugh that feels lighter than usual—almost as if he doesn’t mind sharing this side of himself with her.

"I’ll try. But no promises.", he says with a soft smirk.Y/N found herself grinning as she saw his dimples poke out. She hadn’t realized how much she loved seeing that little dimple until now, how it made him look so much more... approachable.

After a few more bites, she glances up at him. "Why did you want to be a detective, Agent Styles?"

The question lingers in the air. Harry’s fork pauses halfway to his mouth, and for a moment, there’s a heaviness between them. "Because I lost someone who mattered. My sister... she was murdered by some people when we were younger. I couldn’t sit by, not after that."

Y/N’s breath catches, and she sees the pain flicker in his eyes—his calm demeanor betraying a history of loss that runs deep. It’s the first time she’s seen him so vulnerable, so open.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t know.", she says quietly.

Harry shrugs, with a distant look in his eyes,"It’s alright. It’s been a long time... but it’s why I do this. It’s why I never give up on a case. To make sure no one else has to go through that."

There’s a pause, and Y/N feels the weight of his words sink in. She reaches out, placing her hand gently on his. The warmth of the moment takes them both by surprise. He appreciates the gesture, thumb ever so softly stroking a line on the back of her hand.

“You can call me Harry by the way, when we’re not at work.”, he says to lighten the air, and she smiles, drawing her hand back. “Okay.”

Little did she know that Harry had told her something that no one else knew about him. 

________________________________________________________

The precinct is buzzing with its usual morning chaos, the air thick with the noise of phones ringing, officers discussing cases, and the sound of feet shuffling across the floors. y/n is at her desk, flipping through some case files, trying to focus. She’s about to make another note, when she hears the unmistakable sound of Ethan and Eliza approaching her desk, their voices carrying through the room in a familiar, teasing tone.

“Well, well, y/n, looks like you’ve caught Styles’ attention,” Ethan says with a playful grin, sliding into the seat across from her. He leans back, crossing his arms, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

y/n looks up, feigning confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Eliza raises an eyebrow, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Oh, come on. We’ve all seen it. Harry doesn’t usually make time for anyone. But you—" she motions between the two of them, “—you got breakfast with him this morning. He doesn’t do that unless he’s got a soft spot.”

Eliza’s cheeks flush slightly. She opens her mouth to protest, but Ethan cuts her off.

“We’re just saying, Harry’s usually all business, right? But with you—” he gestures with a wink, “he’s practically a different guy. You must be special.”

y/n can’t help but laugh awkwardly, trying to brush it off. Yes, they had eaten breakfast together that morning, because both of them happened to arrive early to the office. “You guys are ridiculous. We just had breakfast. He saw me sitting alone and he was just being... well, Harry.”

But they aren’t buying it. Eliza smirks, leaning forward. “Right, Harry just casually opens up to you about his deepest, darkest secrets over a bagel. We’re all jealous, you know.”

y/n shakes her head, a little embarrassed, but also secretly amused. “Okay, okay, I get it. He’s not a softie, I swear.”

Ethan grins, clearly enjoying teasing her. “Sure, sure. But just wait until the next big case. When he pulls you aside to give you a ‘confidential’ briefing, we’ll be here, dying of curiosity.”

y/n sighs, trying not to laugh as she adjusts the papers in front of her. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. I’m still the intern, remember?”

Eliza raises her hands in mock surrender. “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what we’re talking about. We all saw the way Harry looked at you when he was complimenting you yesterday. Like... he actually noticed your contribution for once.”

At that, y/n’s face goes a little redder, but she can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face. “He just—well, he just doesn’t say much. When he does, it’s kind of a big deal.”

Ethan chuckles, leaning in closer. “Yeah, we’ve noticed. Harry doesn’t exactly dish out compliments like candy. And if he says you’re doing good work? That’s... noteworthy.”

y/n laughs nervously, feeling a little overwhelmed by their teasing, but she’s also secretly flattered. She’s always admired Harry—his skill, his mind, the way he commands respect from everyone around him—and to hear that they’ve noticed the shift in his behavior, even in the smallest ways, makes her feel like she’s on the right track.

“Alright, alright, enough. You’ve got me all figured out,” y/n says, trying to play it off cool. “But don’t go getting any ideas. He’s still Harry Styles.”

“Sure, sure,” Eliza says, winking. “But we’ll be keeping an eye on you two.”

As they walk away, leaving her to her work, y/n smiles to herself, a warm feeling spreading in her chest. She wasn’t sure if Harry really had a soft spot for her, but just knowing that she’d earned a little of his respect—enough for the team to notice—felt like a win. Maybe she wasn’t just the intern anymore. Maybe, just maybe, she was starting to become something more.

______________________________________________

y/n has been busy lately. She passed her detective training exam but the theory exam wasn’t over yet, so she was preparing for that, along with managing the work she had been assigned at the FBI. It’s nearly midnight when Harry walks into the office, his eyes scanning the darkened room before landing on Y/N. He spots her hunched over her desk, staring at the screen, her tired eyes squinting in the dim light. By now he knows she’s a hard worker, but what really hits him is how late it’s gotten—and how she hasn’t stopped working.

Harry’s voice is tight with concern, trying to mask his frustration."Y/N, what the hell are you still doing here?"

Y/N looks up, startled, her fingers still hovering over the keyboard as she blinks at him, trying to hide the exhaustion on her face.

 "Just finishing up some things... It’s not that late."

He sternly walks closer. "It’s midnight. You should be home, resting. This can wait until tomorrow."

Y/N opens her mouth to argue, but the look on his face stops her. She’s used to his seriousness, but there’s something more here—something that’s not just about the case.

His voice softens, but still firm."You’re not invincible, Y/N. You need to take care of yourself."

Y/N sighs, glancing back at the stack of files on her desk, torn between wanting to finish everything and knowing she’s pushing herself too hard.

 "I’m fine, Harry. Really. I just want to get this done."

Harry’s frustration slips through as he says, "No, you’re not fine. You’ve been at this for hours, and you’re running on empty. I’m not leaving until you get some rest."

Y/N meets his eyes, seeing the genuine concern there, but also the subtle edge of worry in his features. She opens her mouth to protest again, but Harry doesn’t give her the chance.

Harry grabs her bag from the desk. "Come on. You’re getting in the car, and I’m taking you home."

She hesitates for a moment, but Harry’s serious enough that she knows there’s no point in arguing.

She grabs her things and follows him out of the office. The rain is coming down hard now, the city streets glistening under the dim streetlights. Harry opens the door for her, holding out an umbrella as they step out into the downpour.

They don’t speak at first, the quiet of the night surrounding them, just the soft patter of rain as they walk to his car. Once inside, the silence between them feels comfortable, but Harry keeps glancing at her, concern still etched on his face.

Harry breaks the silence."You sure you’re okay? You’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately."

“I’m fine, my detective exam is soon, I just really wanna make it.”

“You will, you’ve already passed the physical. Trust me, you don’t have to worry about making it, the exam’s gonna be very easy for you.”

She lets out a soft exhale, those words making her feel a little better. After all, he had gone through all of this. “Are you gonna apply to work here?”

“Yes, I think this is where I wanna work. Not sure about the department though, I still have other rotations. I’m going to be with foreign affairs next week.”

Harry gasps in hurt, glancing over at her. “You don’t wanna be in homicide? Is it because I’m grumpy?”

She laughs, shaking her head. “It’s not you, Harry.. And I love homicide, the thrill is amazing! It’s just that I still have other departments to experience, you know, that’s what an internship is for.”

“Believe me, you aren’t gonna find any other department as interesting as this. But yes, you’re right. You have time to decide.”

The rest of the drive is mostly quiet, just the sound of the rain tapping on the windshield. When they finally reach her flat, Harry pulls up to the curb, parking the car in front of the building. He looks over at her, his voice quiet, with that same concern in it.

"You sure you’ll be okay getting inside? It’s late, and it’s still raining pretty bad."

Y/N nods, though she can’t hide the weariness in her eyes."Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks for the ride, Harry."

He doesn’t move, and for a moment, she thinks he’s going to say something more, but instead, he opens his door and steps out, walking around the car to open hers.

He holds the umbrella over her as they step out into the rain, his arm wrapping around her back and her arm as he keeps her close and they walk side by side toward her building. The air is cool, and the rain falls steadily, but there’s something about the closeness of the moment that makes it feel almost intimate.

When they reach her door, Harry stops, looking at her with that same quiet intensity. "You’re getting some sleep tonight. No excuses."

Y/N can’t help but smile at his persistence, the kind of care that’s always just under the surface of his gruff exterior."I promise. I’ll get some rest."

Harry doesn’t move immediately, his gaze lingering on her face. There’s an almost unspoken weight in the air now, a subtle shift between them. Without thinking, Y/N reaches out and touches his arm, her fingers brushing against his sleeve.

“Thanks for everything, Harry. Really."

His eyes flicker down to where her hand rests on his arm, and for a moment, the world seems to pause. Slowly, he lifts his free hand, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear. His touch lingers for a second longer than necessary, and Y/N feels her heart race at the intimacy of it.

His voice is low, and a bit hoarse."Anytime. You don’t have to thank me."

The tension between them lingers in the rain-soaked air. Harry steps back, holding the umbrella just a little closer to her to shield her from the downpour. Then he whispers softly, "Sleep well, Y/N."

He gives her a soft smile before turning to leave. Y/N watches him walk away, her heart still fluttering from the small but meaningful moments they’ve shared. The rain still falls, but in that quiet moment, everything feels a little different—like they’ve crossed a line, even if just for a moment.

As she walks into her apartment, she can’t help but replay his words and the feeling of his touch, knowing that whatever happens next, something between them has changed.

_____________________________________________

Y/N enters the quarters, the soft click of the door barely audible as she steps inside. The usual hum of chatter and playful teasing is absent, replaced by an air of tension that hangs thick in the room. Her eyes quickly scan the group of agents—none of them in their usual good-natured moods, all absorbed in their own thoughts. Something’s off.

Her gaze lands on Harry, talking quietly with someone behind his glass office door. He looks serious, his posture rigid, eyes narrowed as if he’s deep in conversation about something important. Y/N walks to Nora who’s sitting at her desk, the usual casual grin replaced by a solemn expression.

"Hey, what’s going on? Why’s everyone so serious today?"

The agent looks up. "We got a lead on the Rotherl case. Word is, he has a fourth hostage with him. Cole and Eliza managed to track down where he should be right now and we’re just waiting on Harry’s word to go.”

“A fourth hostage?”, she gasps. She wasn’t part of the team during the investigation of the Rothel murders but she had read up all about it. He was one of the most wanted men, who kidnapped his victims before killing them. He had already killed three innocent people, leaving no traces behind him. If they had a lead on him, that was amazing.

She glances toward Harry’s office, where he’s still deep in conversation, his jaw clenched. Before she can ask more, the door opens, and Harry steps out, his sharp gaze scanning the room. “Let’s go, everyone. I’ve called for backup. Matthews, Carter, good job. Now let’s wrap this up.”

“This mother fucker has had enough of a run.”, Eliza mutters, strapping on her bullet proof west and tossing the other to her partner. 

Y/N’s been with the team for weeks now, and in that time, Harry’s allowed her to tag along when things got tense, letting her learn the ropes. She can’t imagine being left behind on something so big, not now.

She grabs her things, ready to move with the team, but Harry catches her before she gets too far, his lean fingers wrapping around her wrist.

"Not this time, Y/N.", he says, his voice firm, with no room for negotiation.

Y/N freezes, her heart sinking at his words. She’s about to protest, but she catches the look in his eyes—a mix of concern and something else she can’t quite place. She takes a breath, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Come on, Harry. I’ve been with you through worse. You know I can handle it."

“It’s not about how much you can handle, y/n. This is a mad man, and you don’t even have a gun to defend yourself.”

“But I’m trained to fight, and I can use a gun if someone throws it to me-”

“-y/l/n.”, Harry cuts her off with his classic stern face. She hasn’t gotten her gun license yet, she’ll get that only after she becomes an agent after her exams, but she’s already done with all her training. He’s trying to protect her, she realizes. Still, she won’t back down so easily.

"You can’t keep me in the dark. I want to be there with you guys.”, she says firmly.

Harry stares at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers as if weighing the risk. Finally, he sighs, his shoulders slumping just slightly.

He reluctantly agrees. "Fine. You can come. But you stay in the car. Understood?"

Y/N’s heart skips, but she hides her smile, knowing she’s won this small battle. She nods, her voice determined.

 "Understood.”

Harry studies her for a moment longer, as if trying to gauge if she’s really going to stick to her word. When he finally nods, there’s something like relief in his eyes, mixed with the ever-present worry that seems to linger with him.

"Good. But if you step one foot out of that car, I swear I’ll drag your ass back inside myself.”

Y/N chuckles lightly, her eyes meeting his with a flicker of something unspoken. “Got it, sir.”

As Harry turns to lead the team out, Y/N follows behind, a mixture of excitement and nerves swirling inside her. This was more than just another case. It was a dangerous one, and she was in it, even if only on the sidelines. 

“Here, y/n, put this on.”, Ethan comes to her with a bullet proof vest just like everyone else’s. She didn’t think she’d need one sitting in the car, but she put it on, not wanting to start another argument with an agent.

They pile into the cars, the tension in the air thick as they head toward the high-risk location. Y/N’s fingers tap nervously on her lap as she watches Harry in the rearview mirror, his eyes already set on the mission ahead, and she can’t help but feel, even in the midst of everything, that tonight could change something between them.

The car rolled to a stop a few blocks from the dilapidated building. The air outside felt damp from the rain that had just stopped falling, but the tension was thick, and the city streets seemed unusually silent, despite the flashing lights of squad cars surrounding the area.

Y/N leaned forward in the passenger seat, her eyes glued to the building in front of them. The usual lighthearted banter between the team was gone.She could see Harry’s figure through the windshield as he stepped out of the car, his dark coat flaring behind him like a shadow as he walked toward the rest of the team.

She saw the subtle clench of his jaw, the way his body was braced for the weight of what they were about to face. His focus was sharper tonight, sharper than usual. He was already in the thick of it, mentally preparing for what could be a deadly confrontation.

Y/N’s fingers curled into the seat, but she stayed silent. Harry moved with precision, the rest of the team falling in behind him as they gathered around him. The air between them was charged, the kind of energy that only came when everything was on the line.

She heard Harry’s calm voice through his earpiece, “Position yourselves around the building. No one moves unless I give the word.”

Y/N nodded along with the rest of the team, even though Harry couldn’t see it. Her heart hammered in her chest as her gaze shifted from Harry to the building—dark and looming against the city skyline. She could barely make out the figure standing in the doorway.

It was Rothel. The man who had committed violent crimes. And now, he was holding someone else hostage.

Y/N exhaled slowly, gripping the seat tighter. The girl in the doorway, only a teenager by the looks of it, was standing frozen in place, her face pale with fear. Rothel had a gun to her forehead, and she heard him yell out something, but couldn’t make out what it was. Harry raised a hand to the rest of the team, signalling them to hold off.

She could hear Harry. “Rothel, listen to me. Let her go. We don’t need any more bloodshed. Just put the gun down.”

She couldn’t see Harry’s face from the car, but Y/N knew how carefully he must have been approaching the situation. His voice never cracked, but there was an undercurrent of urgency there—just enough to show he was trying to negotiate without pushing Rothel over the edge.

The earpiece crackled with static, and then Rothel’s voice, sharp and filled with fury, came through.

Rothel growled. “I don’t want to hear your deals. If you don’t back the fuck off, I’ll shoot her right here.”

Y/N’s hands went ice-cold. The air in the car felt thick, suffocating. She swallowed hard, wishing there was something she could do, some way she could help, but all she could do was watch—wait—and pray that Harry could talk him down.

Harry’s voice came again, steady and unwavering.

“You don’t want to do this, Rothel. Let her go. We can work something out. Just... put the gun down. It’s not too late.”

Y/N’s eyes were fixed on the building as the tension in the air grew heavier. There was a shift, a subtle movement at one of the upper windows. She squinted, her heart dropping as she realized the figure there wasn’t just an observer—he was armed, and his sights were set on Harry.

Her breath caught in her throat. Panic surged through her as she saw the man preparing to act. Without thinking twice, Y/N grabbed her earpiece, trying to warn the others, but there was no time for that. The danger was too immediate.

She threw open the car door, barely pausing before sprinting toward the building. Every step was fueled by a sense of urgency, her mind racing. She couldn’t let him hurt Harry.

Y/N reached the back of the building and found a staircase leading up. She didn’t hesitate as she ascended quickly, her heart thumping in her chest. At the top, she paused, ears straining for any sound—anything that would give away the shooter’s position.

There, at the far end of the hallway, the man stood, oblivious to Y/N’s approach. She didn’t think, she just moved. Silent and quick, she rushed toward him, tackling him off balance. They hit the ground, but the struggle wasn’t over.

“Move out of my way unless you want me to kill you, bitch.”, he growled.

“Oh you can try.”, she growled back.

The man pushed back, trying to regain his footing, but Y/N used every ounce of her strength to keep him down. He fought back, his hands grabbing at her, but she was faster—more determined.

In the chaos, she was struck hard, sending her crashing into the wall. The impact knocked the wind out of her, but she gritted her teeth and pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the growing pain. She couldn’t let him get to Harry. He needed to save that girl.

She heard gun shots from below and something that sounded like a cry of relief from the hostage, then she heard Harry’s voice through her fallen earpiece. “He’s down, great job team.” She made the mistake of letting her guard down for one second, in relief, and that’s when the man managed to rise to his feet and point the gun at her.

She heard Harry’s voice again, through her earpiece, now panicked. “Y/N, where are you? Answer me.”

Her vision swam from the dizziness, but she forced herself to focus. The man looked down and groaned in frustration. y/n laughed. “Guess your little plan didn’t work out, huh?”

“It was a good plan, now it’s all ruined because of you. Did you think I was joking when I said I’d kill you?”

“Y/N?”, she heard footsteps and Harry’s voice. 

“Harry!”, she called back, panic starting to rise in her chest. The gun was pointed at her, so she couldn’t risk moving. 

Harry points his own gun at the man. “Put it down right now, you sick bastard.”

y/n closed her eyes as she heard two shots fire at the same time. Then she heard a big thud. Suddenly, there was pain shooting through her body. The pain was overwhelming, but there was something else—disbelief, confusion, and the shock of what had just happened.

She had been shot.

She was brought back from her dazed state by Harry’s panicked, almost broken, voice, “Y/N, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay..don’t worry, o-okay?”

She could hear the crack in his voice, the fear that only came when someone was truly scared of losing someone they cared about. Her heart fluttered weakly in her chest at the realization. Her thoughts weren’t on the blood soaking her arm or the pain threatening to consume her. They were on Harry. He was here. He was with her. And as she fought to keep her eyes open, the last thing she heard was him calling her name, desperately holding onto her in the chaos of it all.

____________________________________________

Taglist: -@livypops12352568 @harrydeary, @harryswifee, @harrysbxtchh, @gracelovesethan, @kiwitsayedsugar, @angeldavis777,@madstyles3204, @youngpastafanmug, @fruity-harry, @wannaliveinparadise@hermionelove @mayalove014 @vikiii07

[kqutie]

EPIC : THE FAIR MAIDEN (not so platonic ver.)

CHAPTER FOUR : THE WASHED-UP STRANGER

relations. : platonic various epic characters/reader -- platonic odysseus/reader ; polites/reader ; platonic eurylochus/reader ; platonic elpenor/reader ; platonic perimedes/reader ; platonic odysseus' crew/reader ; hermes/reader ; poseidon/reader

chpt. sum. : The crew get acquainted with your villagers while you discover a stranger washed up on your sandy beaches. You know exactly what to do... poke, poke, poke!

tags. : reader continues being a disney princess ; female, mute reader ; pure comfort ; animal crossing new horizons game mechanics ; the villagers are here! ; the crew are simps ; poseidon makes an appearance ; poseidon is kinda slimey... ; hermes to the rescue, kinda? ; hermes is still a flirty menace ; protective crew ; very protective odysseus ; poseidon tried to shoot his shot and failed ; isekai and transmigration ; fix it fic ; characters know their future ; happy ending for everyone!

length. : 6.8k

navi. | series m.list

← prev | three : the new island

Marshal hops over, along with Filbert and Poppy, all three squirrels snuggling up to your form in an effort to express how much they missed you. Their affectionate words swirl into a cacophony of voices you hear directly in your mind. Were they communicating with you telepathically? 

“How did you all get here?” you ask without a voice, simply keeping the question in your head and experimenting with the communication. 

“We’ve always been here, silly. It’s our island home, after all,” Shino adds, coming up to your sitting form and nuzzling her nose into your hair. She looked majestic with her white fur, pink nose and red horns, you can still see the reddish colour brushing the edges of her eyes, highlighting her amber gaze. 

“But it’s strange,” Mitzi comments, licking at her paws adorably, “something feels different, somehow, especially after that flying man urged us into the storage shed. Is this really our same island?”

Hermes... you think, supposing they’ve been sent here through him. It makes you wonder if he’s also the reason you arrived. No, that can’t be. He didn’t know of you when you first met, so how could he possibly be responsible for bringing you into this world? Perhaps the appearance of your villagers was a part of his blessing. 

“All that matters is that we’re finally together again,” Filbert cuts in, snuggling further into you as the others join with hums of agreement. It makes you smile to see such familiar, sweet faces. You miss their adorable character designs, but it was fascinating to see them as normal animals, though they didn’t quite look the part. Their atypical colouring remained, so they look more like fantasy creatures to you. Perhaps that was fitting; you’ve grown quite the reputation amongst the crew so your villagers’ unusual appearance may lend to them believing that they are your close friends. 

“Cha-chomp! We missed you,” Fang snaps his jaws in an almost intimidating display, but you know he’s a sweetheart. Rather than shrink back in fear of his very sharp teeth, you smile and reach up to lovingly scratch at his ear. In his true form, Fang was a menacing size, but his beautiful grey coat looked so fluffy — you couldn’t help cooing at him and the way his ears flicked in delight from your scratches.

“It’s a relief to find you again,” Gaston comments, hopping up to your legs, where he brings a small furry hand up to pat your knee. He’s sweet for saying that but the obvious mustache the yellow rabbit retained was hilarious to you. He’s accompanied by Chrissy, however, who no longer adorns her pink and white polka dot head garment and leggings, leaving her looking like an ordinary white bunny. It was quite unusual, but you suppose they all look unusual without their clothing. 

“Don’t laugh! We thought we lost you!” Chrissy, huffs crossing her arms. 

“I’m sorry Chrissy, I missed you too,” Chrissy, ever the kind-hearted bunny, immediately unfolds her arms and smiles happily at you. You’ve already been forgiven; she’s never one to hold a grudge. 

“If you’re all here, does that mean—” You’re cut off by a hoot, and you look up to smile widely at a familiar-looking pair of owls perched along a tree branch. The owl siblings are accompanied by a pigeon whose feathers make it look as though he has a moustache and is wearing a suit. “Blathers! Celeste! Brewster!” The bushes shake below and out pops Tom Nook, accompanied by Timmy, Tommy, the Able sisters, and Isabelle. Timmy and Tommy looked adorably miniature, standing next to Tom, who stood high and greeted you with a friendly wave. Isabelle also waved at you, her tail contentedly swishing from side to side. “I can’t believe you’re all here,” 

“We’d follow you anywhere,” Isabelle comments, and you smile at each other. 

“So good to see you, my dear,” Blathers greets with an accompanying hoo. 

“Yes yes,” Tom Nook agrees but scratches at his head almost nervously, “but what’s happened to the island?”

Giving him an apologetic look, you try your best to explain, “I’m sorry Tom, I know it looks quite different, but I assure you that everything’s okay. It’s well taken care of, we actually have an amazing amount of visitors settled here currently.”

“Oh?” Tom and Isabelle share a proud look. “That’s brilliant! Business is booming!” You giggle at his words and nod along, happy to have settled him down. 

“Have you seen the stars? They’re so beautiful tonight!” Celeste comments and you look up in anticipation for any shooting stars but there are none. There was an unusually still, opaque cloud hovering above you, however. Peculiar…

“I suppose they do look extra bright tonight.” Looking around, you smile at the sight of everyone and slowly stand with your squirrel friends still tucked up in your arms. “How about we have a sleepover at my place?” you suggest, earning a cheer from everyone. 

“Hoo-Hoo! That would be lovely!” Blathers comments, a dreading look overcoming him for a moment, “I do so hate the outdoors but can’t find my museum anywhere!” 

“Mi casa es tu casa,” you invite them all inside as Marshal shivers in excitement before pulling a smug look. 

“I see you’ve picked up some of my speech habits. Of course you would. I’m quite the influencer. And you’re too kind, Sulky, thank you.” Marshal instantly recognised the phrase you used and wiggled in happiness from his positive impact. 

⊹ ࣪﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

The next morning, you make your way to the crew with breakfast already prepared and stored from your home kitchen. All animals trail along behind you, eager to meet the new friends you told them of the night before and this morning: all 600 men of Odysseus’ fleet. It might be overwhelming for them at first, but you know that their sweet disposition will make them fast friends with the crew. Hopefully, the men wouldn’t be too put off by your villagers’ odd colours. The only normal-looking villagers you have are Fauna, Chrissy, Fang and the Nook family. 

“Fair Maiden!” came a shout, and you turn to gasp at the image of Odysseus aiming his bow and arrow at Fang (a large, grey wolf) while Eurylochus points his large sword at Boots (your gym-bro alligator). Rushing forward, you open your arms out in defence, shielding your harmless villagers from harm. If you could shout in protest, you would, but all you could manage is a frightful look that immediately makes the two lower their guard ever so slightly. 

“Wh-wha—?” Odysseus voices, unable to comprehend what’s happening, but Polites rushes to your side, opening his arms beside you. He knows exactly what you’re trying to convey.

“Captain! The Fair Maiden doesn’t want these animals harmed!” Polites’ voice is loud and firm, an immediate assurance to you that he was on your side, no questions asked, “Please lower your weapons!”

“But—!” Eurylochus tries to protest, knowing the potential danger that you could be in. Seeing the conflict in the sword-wielding man’s eyes, you shake your head insistently and gesture to your villagers and yourself before pointing between you and Polites. Everyone then watches as you end your non-verbal statement by tucking yourself into Polites’ chest, who wordlessly wraps his arms around you, his resolve solidified. It’s easy to understand what you want to express. 

“See? She’s trying to say that these animals are her friends. Please do not harm them.” Polites voices for you, bringing a smile to your face. You kiss his jaw and hug him tightly to show your gratitude. Polites’ cheeks bloom with a radiant blush but he doesn’t draw attention to it, not even when Odysseus and Eurylochus give him a teasing smirk. The two finally lower their weapons and apologise with a bow of their heads. 

“We apologise sincerely for over-reacting and causing you distress, Fair Maiden. We won’t bring harm to your animal friends, I assure you,” Odysseus looks at you, his eyes flooded with resolve to keep his word. 

“A-are you sure they’re friendly? They don’t seem it at all,” Poppy squeaks and hops over to your leg, hugging your ankle in her short height as her sweet face presses into the folds of your skirt. She’s joined by Filbert, who hugs your opposite ankle with a tearful whimper on his lips.

“S-so scary...”

“How unusual,” Odysseus observes, taking in Poppy and Filbert’s unusually coloured fur. He quickly moves on to observe the strange appearance of the other animals that have followed you as well. Some looked normal, some looked magical, and then there was a yellow bunny who looked like he had a very thick moustache, and Odysseus had to stifle his laughter.

“They are not like any other creatures I’ve seen before…” Eurylochus adds as the rest of the crew strain their necks to get a look, all of them humming in agreement as soon as they realise how different the animals appear. They coo over your squirrel villagers, Chrissy, Mitzi and Fauna, for their sweet appearance. They gasp in wonder at Shino’s divine being. They shudder at Fang and Boots’ intimidating presence. And many had to stifle their laughter when seeing Gaston’s prominent moustache as well. 

“No wonder you protect and care for them,” Polites comments, looking down at you with a kind smile. “Are they also as otherworldly as you?” his words make you look away bashfully, earning a laugh from the headband-wearing third commander. At least he managed to get you back for flustering him only moments earlier. That soft kiss isn’t escaping his mind any time soon. 

“We’ll make sure your animal friends don’t come to any harm,” Eurylochus assures, setting out to warn the back of the crew himself after you introduce him and the first few rows of the Odysseus’ men to your villagers and the other occupants of the island: Blathers and Celeste snoozing away in a nearby tree while Brewster keeps a close eye on them; the able sister nestled together adorably in the bushes; Tom Nook travelling together with Timmy and Tommy, who’ve climbed onto his back. To surmise, all animals that aren’t fish or bugs are under your protection.

After that frightful first impression, you’re happy to find the crew getting along with your villagers and vice versa. Your animal friends are truly so friendly; it’s in their nature to be kind, so it took no time at all for them to find new friends in the crew. It was a fun sight to see. The villagers still tended to gravitate towards you, however. And it took a while for the crew to get used to seeing such animals keeping you company, usually finding them trailing close behind you, the squirrels often hopping about your feet as you walked by. 

At times, it was heartwarming to see you interact with the cute animals. A beautiful lady, smiling, cooing and petting the sweet furry creatures was an image that had soul-healing properties. It made you feel all the more magical to them, floating about the island with a sweet deer following after you with adorable squirrels and bunnies close behind. However, it was more than unnerving to witness you being accompanied by a large grey wolf, a snapping alligator and an albino deer with pointed, red horns, an uncustomary appearance for such a graceful species. This was an initial fear you treated by showcasing how friendly and sweet Fang, Boots and Shino actually were. 

Waving Perimedes over, you smile brightly as he brings Elpenor with him. The two were truly inseparable.”Y-yes, Fair Maiden?” Perimedes asks nervously, eyeing Fang and Boots, who flanked your sides and quite politely so. Though that didn’t matter to Perimedes or Elpenor; all they saw were teeth, teeth and more teeth!   

“That one looks like he goes to the gym!” Boots praises Elpenor as he happily gazes at the man’s broad frame. Unfortunately, Elpenor wasn’t aware that the alligator’s interested gaze was one of admiration and not of hunger, and he tenses up in fear.

“You want us to make friends with them?” Fang asks, holding back his excitement as his tail begins to swish behind him in happiness. “Cha-chomp!” Fang snaps his jaws gleefully, unaware of his effect on the fearful, slightly shaking Perimedes, “Any friend of yours is a friend of ours!” 

Taking Perimedes’ hand with the utmost care, you slowly bring his sweaty palm and shaking fingers to Fang’s soft fur. Fang’s delighted response is instantaneous. The large wolf leans into Perimedes’ touch and urges him to continue petting and scratching his ear with a tilt of his head. 

“Oh...” Perimedes releases the breath he was holding and laughs in relief, eagerly scratching at Fang’s ear. The smile that grows on the blonde’s face is contagious.  

“That’s a good scratch. Mmm~ A little to the left please...” Fang snaps his jaws happily, leaning further into Perimedes’ hand, who quickly grows accustomed to Fang’s habit of chomping his jaws to express his happiness. 

“Good boy,” Perimedes whispers, his gaze softening with fondness. He’s made a new friend.

One down, one to go. You look at Elpenor, who seems to be having a staring contest with Boots. Behind him, Boots’ tail swishes from side to side, and you smile at his eagerness to make a new friend, too. Gently, you also take Elpenor’s hand and softly coax him into petting Boot’s head. The look you give Elpenor says everything he needs to know to follow your lead with confidence and trust in your actions. ’Everything will be okay,’ your eyes say to him. 

“I-If you think it’s safe, Fair Maiden...” Elpenor nods and allows himself to be guided into petting Boots, who eagerly leans into his touch. 

“His hands are calloused and strong!” Boots observes with a toothy smile, “That is evidence of his prowess in the gym! I think we’ll make good friends!”  

“It seems everyone has a favourite!” Odysseus laughs, walking up to you as he’s accompanied by both Fauna and Shino. He looks at them fondly, “Curious how an archer has become good friends with deers of all creatures.” Fauna nudges his hand with her nose, urging him to pet her as Shino playfully butts her horns against his forearm. Odysseus complies by rubbing at the base of her horns and succumbing to Fauna’s gently prompt for pets, “It seems I’ve found their weak spot.” You smile at the easy expression that takes over Odysseus’ countenance. In the days that pass, you find that the crew have grown an eagerness for petting your villagers, who make no complaints; they love the attention and the company of new friends. The crew smile more easily and laugh much lighter than ever before. You liken it to the effect therapy animals have on veterans. 

The hardened men can often be found taking care of and spending time with your villagers in various ways. It’s also clear that many have their personal favourites, as the captain had helpfully observed for you. 

Odysseus is often followed around by Fauna and Shino. Fauna, your sweet and graceful deer with her gentle disposition, reminds him of the elegance his wife, Penelope, often holds herself with. Shino, however, makes him think of his son; she’s more playful and adventurous compared to Fauna, much like his boy, Telemachus. Their presence is familiar, but also not. Nevertheless, they gave Odysseus some much-needed comfort and vice versa. Fauna and Shino adore being treated with such care and especially love the stories he tells them absentmindedly, his guard lowered by their presence. 

Eurylochus, you’re surprised to see, has become good friends with your trio of squirrel villagers. All three have expressed to you how much they enjoy resting on his shoulders and even his head as he walks around. His height makes them feel tall and powerful! Marshal likens it to being perched on a walking tree. Poppy simply loves curling up in his large hand. She tells you it makes for the perfect bed to rest comfortably in. It also helps that Eurylochus often feeds them a share of his fruit rations. Filbert loves it especially; he’s a great lover of food. The tall, intimidating second commander can be seen resting against a tree as the three squirrels play about his gently smiling form. He looks at peace, fondly watching as they play around and on him — he’s become their personal playground. 

“You feed them too much, friend,” Polites laughs while passing by with Mitzi in his arms. “I’m afraid that blue one will become too chubby.” It seems everyone’s picked up on Filbert’s food-loving tendencies. 

“But don’t you think they look especially cute with their chubby cheeks chewing away at the fruit? It feels even more satisfying when I feed them by hand,” Eurylochus points out, and the two admire the way the three small squirrels eagerly stuff their faces with slices of apples Eurylochus hands them, making their cheeks puff up adorably.

“I suppose you’re right.” Polites grins and sits beside Eurylochus with Mitzi in his lap. 

“I see you’re a cat person,” Eurylochus smirks at his friend.

“I’ve always been a cat person,” the two share a laugh. 

Mitzi and Polites have a very calming friendship. The two often fall asleep together wherever they may be. It all starts when Mitzi sits herself in Polites’ lap, and the kind third commander can’t help but coo and pet her adoringly. When enough time passes, Mitzi can be found gently purring in his lap as Polites lightly snores over her, the two of them finding the best rest in each other’s company. 

Elpenor has grown a bond with Boots, thanks to your introductions. Boots had even helped him prank other crew members by patiently lurking in the bath waters and jumping out with a snap of his powerful jaws when a group of crew members came in to take their baths. Elpenor was chased around by those few traumatised men, but he found the prank worth the trouble. He laughed the entire time he was chased about. Perimedes was commonly seen with Fang, the two having immediately bonded thanks to you. They enjoyed each other’s company no matter what they may be doing together, whether it’s fishing, sitting around, sleeping under the sun or eating, they’ve become the best of friends. Together, the four of them have become quite the fearsome quartet.    

⊹ ࣪﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

“Look! What’s that?!” a crew member shouts, and you look to see them pointing up at something in the sky. “It’s a bird!”

“No, it’s a floating red thing carrying a white box!” The helpful description provided by Lycaon makes you pull out your slingshot and take aim. You fire at the balloon three times, but it’s no use, and you watch as the balloon floats further away. With a huff, you shake your head miserably. Why were shooting balloons always so difficult for you? It’s even more difficult now that you’re having to shoot it down in real life. Before the balloon could get too far away, however, an arrow helpfully shoots it down for you. The shooter was Odysseus, who slings his bow over his head and wears it while bringing the gift box over to you. Smiling gratefully, you open the gift before handing him its contents.

“For me?” Odysseus asks, surprised, as he points to himself. You nod, and rather than urge the gift into his hands, you place the purple hyacinth crown onto his head instead. It matches his purple toga. Odysseus laughs and affectionately pats your head as Fauna and Shino prance about around you in celebration. “Thank you.” He silently vows take special care of your gift. He hopes it never wilts.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

You’ve already made the dresses and more for Penelope and Ctimene following Odysseus and Eurylochus’ request, and now you were collecting pretty shells for a little something extra. It would be nice for Odysseus and Eurylochus to craft something personally for their wives too, something pretty to gift them when they arrive home again. It’s not an official recipe you know from ACNH, but it’s a simple craft. An unfussy but heartfelt accessory showcasing the pretty seashell collected from your island’s shores, lovingly prepared for their beautiful wives to wear. How romantic would that be?~ You want to help Ody and Eury be good husbands,so today, you’re trying to find the prettiest seashells for them to craft into necklaces or bracelets. 

“My Fair Maiden,” Polites calls, approaching you on the beach with a kind smile, the ends of his headband swimming in the sea breeze. “What are you up to out here?” he looks at the small collection of sea shells you’ve managed to collect so far, your hands carefully cradling the precious beach decorations. “Those are very beautiful.” he admires your selection, leaning forward ever so slightly as he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. When he straightens again, Polites softens his voice as he looks at you with a fond stare. “May I join you? I’ll help as best as I can.” Unable to say no, you nod your head instantly. It would be nice to have company, anyway, and Polites was always good company. For a while, you two collect sea shells together with only the waves. There were a lot of shells available, but you were very selective about which ones you kept. Playing ACNH on your switch made the seashells look identical to one another, but now that you were looking at them personally and not in a game, each one was distinct and unique in its own way. Yes, there were similarly shaped ones, but looking closely, they were all very different. It was fascinating, and the adoration was visible on your face. 

That admiring visage of you as you stare down at the shells was something that Polites couldn’t help but admire. You’re too precious. How could he not feel for you? He loves it, especially when you find a particularly beautiful shell and run to share your discovery with him. You’re the good in the world that makes life worthwhile. Once again, the two of you split up to look for more shells separately. Polites looks into the distance when a glimmer catches his eye and moves to collect the shimmering glass bottle buried in the sand. There was a trinket inside that looked like something you would know what to do with better than him, so he kept the bottle closed and immediately returned to you. 

“I don’t have a shell but...” Polites offers the glass bottle sheepishly, not knowing what to expect from your reaction. With a silent gasp, you store away your collected, approved shells and clap in glee, happily receiving the bottle from Polites before hugging him as thanks. Polites laughs and hugs you back, his strong arms wrapping around you tightly as he buries his nose into your hair, where he affectionately presses a kiss into your crown. With you around, the harrowing memories and scars he acquired in the war are pushed far behind him. You bring a rare and precious peaceful quietness. And Polites can confidently say you have the same effect for Odysseus, Eurylochus and the crew too. You’re truly a blessing.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Poseidon has felt a strange disturbance in his ocean for quite some time now. It wasn’t threatening nor dangerous, so he didn’t initially feel the need to investigate. However, the disruption to his waters has remained such a prominent irritation to the point that he could no longer resist ignoring it. He sets off to investigate the peculiarity in the early morning, hoping to finish his search as soon as possible. 

When he approaches, Poseidon raises a brow. He doesn’t remember such a large island being located in this part of his ocean. It’s not even one he recognises; he’s never seen such greenery or landscapes. Suddenly, there’s movement behind the trees lining the perimeter of the island, beyond the shady beaches, and the sea god ducks into the ocean. Perhaps glimpsing a creature that occupies the island will give him some idea of its mysterious origins. 

Stepping out of the tree line, you move to the sands to continue your sea shell search for Odysseus and Eurylochus just before you meet the crew for breakfast, blissfully unaware of the fascinated stare pinning you down from the God of the sea. As Poseidon stays hidden amongst the waves, he smirks to himself, his eyes tracing your delicious curves, sweetly dressed in the loveliest dress he’s ever seen. He appreciates your silhouette thoroughly until his gaze finally lands on your beautiful face. What a beauty you are. Such a fine treasure he’s found within his ocean. He should have investigated the mysterious island sooner. You appear so sweet and kind too, delicately picking up different seashells, appearing very selective of which ones you should keep for your precious hoard. 

The new island no longer annoys him for disrupting his oceans; rather, Poseidon has found something else to be intrigued by. And he’s determined to make you his. 

You don’t know how much time you spend picking seashells, but when you look up, all thoughts of your mounting sea shell collection are forgotten. On the shore was a washed-up man in nothing but a simple cloth wrapped around his waist. His brown hair is long and wet from the salty ocean water, his skin a healthy sun-kissed colour, and his muscles prominently sculpted. From what little glimpses you see of his face hidden behind the strands of hair that fall over his features, you can tell that he’s handsome with a light shadow of stubble shaping his jaw. As you approach him, unaware of his intentions and very conscious state, Poseidon wills his features to stay undisturbed. A fair maiden such as yourself will surely wake him gently and with a sweet voice; when he pretends to finally rouse from sleep, he’ll work his charms to lure you into a passionate night together. He will enjoy you thoroughly and savour your sweet sounds, for an angel like you is capable of creating nothing but dulcet tones. 

Poseidon has gravely misjudged you, however. As soon as you were kneeling beside him, rather than gently seduce him out of his slumber and kindly ask about his wellbeing in the soft voice he imagined you to have, you begin to incessantly poking at his cheek instead. It was completely unexpected, and he couldn’t help the annoying twitch of his brow. The subtle action makes you temporarily stop your ceaseless prodding. But before Poseidon could breathe in respite, you start poking him again, this time, with much more force and speed. If he wasn’t a god, he’s sure you’d have made the skin of his cheek bruise already. Is this really how you go about waking an injured man?! It’s not at all what Poseidon expected, ignorant to your experience with washed-up seagull pirates. The only way you knew to wake Gulliver (the seagull pirate) or Gullivarrr (the seagull pirate captain) was to constantly pester them, which obviously meant poking their unconscious forms until they wake up. 

“I’m awake! I’m awake!” Poseidon sits up with an irritated grumble, swatting at your hand and squinting his eyes at you. He’s sorely misjudged you. Perhaps he should leave?

(Distantly, a giggle can be heard, and your ears perk up ever so slightly.)

However, Poseidon is struck once again by your beauty. Up close, you’re stunning, especially when you’re smiling so kindly at him and him alone. Because of your bewitching image, Poseidon was willing to forget about your rude, unending poking. 

“What a beauty you are...” the handsome stranger’s brown eyes examine your face, slowly tracing your features with his eyes as he slowly brings a hand up to cup your cheek. His touch was so unexpected that you startle ever so slightly. The stranger appears to take pleasure in your surprise however, chuckling to himself as his hand leaves your cheek to pick up your hand and bring your knuckles to his lips, “Tell me,” his lips don’t leave your skin as he looks up to meet your eyes with an impassioned stare, “what is your name, my lady?”

Smiling apologetically, you shake your head and point to your throat. “Oh? You cannot speak?”Poseidon frowns as you confirm his supposition with a nod. He was so looking forward to hearing your voice and relishing in the beautiful melody you would sing for him under his touch.

“No matter.” Poseidon eventually accepts the fact and leans forward, inching his face close to yours as you lean back slightly. “I remain grateful to you for saving my life.” the stranger’s eyes briefly glances down at your prettily shaped lips, “Allow me to convey my gratitude,” your eyes widen as the bold stranger closes the gap between you, managing to brush his lips against your own before you’re swept up by a pair of strong arms that fly you into the air. Gasping silently, you wrap your arms over your captor’s shoulders and push your face into his neck, fearful of the height he’s flown you to. 

“I should have known you were nothing but trouble~” A familiar voice teases as a pair of lips press a kiss against your temple. Hermes! Pulling away, you gape at the Messenger god who smugly grins at you. His arms carry you like a princess, ensuring that your dress doesn’t fall and reveal more of yourself to the men below. “Not only have you entrapped me, but you’ve captured the attention of my Uncle as well.” his words make your brows fly up in surprise before you hurriedly look down and gasp once more at the scene happening below. His uncle?! Did he mean...? 

Odysseus is pissed. You had taken longer than usual to meet everyone for breakfast, and they had grown anxious about your whereabouts. Initially, your safety wasn’t much of a concern as they knew your island to be incredibly safe; however, those foolish thoughts were immediately swept away as soon as they found you at the beach with a stranger, who was getting far too close for comfort. 

“Allow me to convey my gratitude.” At those exact words, Odysseus had fired his arrow, narrowly missing the strange man’s feet. It was a warning shot. Odysseus wasn’t one to miss his target, especially not one that is so unsuspecting and easy, but he would endanger you if he aimed straight at the man — you were far too close to him, and Odysseus didn’t want to risk you getting injured too. 

“Captain!” Polites points him towards your form up in the air and in the arms of another familiar god, “The Fair Maiden is safe,” his third commander hands him another arrow, “You’re free to take a second shot.” Polites’ voice grows chilly, deprived of his characteristically warm friendliness. He generally wasn’t the type to encourage such mercilessness, rather, he would have encouraged everyone to hear out the stranger. But Odysseus won’t complain; he knows the level of affection Polites and the rest of his crew had fostered for you — of course, this level of protectiveness was to be expected. 

“Aim for his throat,” Eurylochus strategised, his tone stern and calculating as he readies his sword, “While he chokes on his blood, I’ll move in to severe his head clean off his shoulders.” Odysseus didn’t appreciate being ordered around most of the time, but he didn’t mind it for right now. At least you were safe for the moment. He’ll deal with Hermes later. 

“Wait! Wait!” Odysseus freezes in place, along with everyone else who recognises the plea from the musical quite some time ago but still remember it so vividly. The same musical that had revealed their potential future had made it easy to recognise such a voice. It couldn’t be…

The stranger’s very human features slowly melt away to reveal the God of the sea. The man’s brown hair becomes an opaque black as the skin of his neck grows gills and his ears become fin-shaped. The cloth around his waist falls away to reveal the beginnings of a fishtail. Looking down, his tail can be seen seamlessly merging with the ocean waves lapping at the sandy beach, which pulls him into the ocean and stands him tall, held up by the sea below. 

“Poseidon...” Eurylochus acknowledges as everyone takes on a battle stance behind him, their faces weary but determined. 

“You made an oath not to interfere with my journey home!” Odysseus snaps at the sea god. His words making Poseidon grit his teeth in annoyance. 

“I know...”

“Why aren’t you keeping it?”

“I am keeping it! You have had easy oceans so far, and when you set out to sea again for the rest of your journey home, they will be safe also. The girl is different; she has no association with you—” The look Odysseus sends him makes the god stammer ever so slightly. You are associated with Odysseus. What a mistake this was.

“If you touch her, you will be interfering with our journey home. She is our Fair Maiden and has been a wondrous blessing on our voyage so far! Touch her, and you’ll be breaking your oath!”

Poseidon looks up to see you in the arms of his nephew, whose usually smiling countenance disappears as soon as they meet eyes. You are a precious being not only to the man who tormented him in a potential future but are also held dearly by his nephew. This doesn’t spell well. You appeared to be such an innocent lady; how did things turn out to be like this?  

“She’s off limits, uncle.” Hermes states firmly, his arms tightening their hold on you, “And she has my blessing. I’m sure you know what that means...” Even Hermes’ words make Odysseus and the crew’s eyes widen in shock. Just as surprised as Poseidon. When did Hermes bless you? Had you been associated with the Messenger god this whole time?

“Fine!” Poseidon concedes, his reluctant acceptance punctuated by the momentary violent action of the ocean waves below, “I will leave you be.” As he disappears into the sea, Poseidon gives you one last, longing glance. Yet again, he was at a loss. How disappointing…

As soon as Poseidon vanishes into the ocean’s depths, you look to Hermes with a smile, a small thank you for his help. “You’re very welcome, darling~” he coos but appears reluctant to let you go. It isn’t until Odysseus and the crew have fixed their eyes on you that he finally descends. “My my~ what a surprising turn of events.” Hermes brings a light-hearted air with him, doing his best to distract the crew so he can keep you in his arms for longer. He quite likes the feel of you tucked up against his chest and solely held up by his strength as your arms wrap around his neck. You look very adorable this close to him, your head easily tucked up under his chin. 

“Thank you, Hermes,” Odysseus smiles gratefully to the god. He was one of the only gods to be of help to him in the musical, and it appears he’s sustaining that reputation. It only irks the King of Ithaca that Hermes seems to have made contact with you already, without him or anyone else knowing, and given you his blessing.

“Don’t thank me, friend~” Hermes turns his full attention to you, gently setting you down, “I didn’t do it for you particularly...”

‘Thank you for your help, Hermes,’ you voice in your head, knowing the god can hear your words clearly. 

“Of course, my fair lady~” Levitating several inches above the ground, Hermes bows graciously at the waist for you, smiling an easy smile. “But don’t you suppose that I should be rewarded for my efforts?” he teases, offering his cheek for you to kiss. That was his reward. His actions make Odysseus splutter in disbelief as several crew members, Polites and Eurylochus especially, do their best to keep their protests behind clenched teeth, silently begging you not to yield to the god. 

As you give him a skeptical look, Hermes laughs. He planned to shrug it off, knowing that he wouldn’t have received anything from you. He even made the effort not to ask you for a kiss outright, knowing the disadvantage mortals have against a god’s will. Hermes only meant to get a rise out of the crowding audience, his devious nature wouldn’t permit him to leave otherwise. However, he was surprised when, rather than wave his silly request away, you place your hands on his shoulders, stabilising yourself first before closing your eyes and gently puckering your lips, aiming for his offered cheek — a cheek kiss was innocent enough. 

What a pleasant surprise~ Hermes grins deviously.

Taking the opportunity, Hermes wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you impossibly close—to the point where you can feel his toned muscles far too sensitively. Once securely in his arms, he tilts his head to meet your lips with his own, shooting the two of you up into the air as he does so. He likes an audience, but he’s sure you wouldn’t be the biggest fan. Nor will you be happy if he lingers above the crew such that they could look up your dress skirt so he pulls you with him to perch atop one of your lush trees, far from the crew. Your surprised gasp gives him the perfect opportunity to steal more of your breath away. His tongue swoops in and pulls yours into a heated dance as his hand trails up to press against the back of your head and deepen your embrace. Unable to resist, you fall deeply into the kiss, reciprocating with your heart racing in your chest as heat crawls up your neck to settle over your cheeks. How is he such a good kisser? His lips, his arms and hands confine you to him, making the rest of the world disappear — you’ve barely registered that you’re no longer on the beach but rather cradled in the branches of a tree with him. 

Odysseus and the crew were too shocked to react as they were left behind. The last image of you that they saw were your lips connecting with Hermes’s own. Their nerves had been frozen up from being in the presence of two gods and at such close proximity, but those same nerves were quickly thawed by the heat of their rage. Immediately, they go searching for you, not needing to look for long as they see you lying against Hermes in the branches of a tree not too far into the island. 

“My my~” Hermes pants after pulling away, smirking at your breathlessness and unwilling to let you go. The mischievous nature in him spots the infuriated crew in his periphery and immediately decides to play with them. Levitating the two of you once more, he dangles you before the crew tauntingly before slowly descending, your feet finally touching solid ground again, but his arms remain secure around you. The crew doesn’t dare jump forth and bring you to safety, no matter how much they want to, especially when Hermes dares to giggle at them. Spurred on by the fury on their faces, Hermes dips you down and nuzzles his nose into the base of your neck, his eyes pinning the crew down sharply while his lips tenderly kiss the soft skin of your upper chest area, “you taste divine, darling~ So sweet. Just like the first time...”

Odysseus choked on air as his eyes bulged out. “THE FIRST TIME?!”

Hermes laughs and lifts into the air slightly, bringing you with him and making you twirl with your arm raised and your feet lifted several inches off the ground. He pulls you back in again, just as tightly as before, emphasising his affection for you. “This certainly won’t be the last time, either.” he looks into your rounded, glittering eyes, cooing in adoration at your precious image. Everything was happening so fast that you could barely comprehend it all, your mind still stuck on processing the kiss you shared with the mischievous god. “You’re truly far too tempting for your own good. I’m but a hungry, helpless beast at your service, my lady.” Hermes finally (finally!) sets you down and bows, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles before finally biding his farewells for the time being. 

When you finally turn around, Odysseus had come dangerously close, his eyes wild with barely restrained rage and stern protectiveness. “You have some explaining to do, young lady.”

But…But I can’t talk! You wail internally, pulling a helpless expression, but Odysseus is undeterred. Hermes… you jerk! 

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a/n : once again, I couldn't stop writing until I finished, even if it means sleeping at 3am -- but I'm just as addicted as anyone else to this series so... here you darlings go... i'm going to bed now!

For those of you who need/want the reminder, these are my villagers: Fauna ; Shino ; Poppy ; Filbert ; Marshal ; Chrissy ; Fang ; Boots ; Gaston ; Mitzi

taglist : @bluepanda08 @doodle-with-rhy @sunshinedaisy21 @jolixtreesunn @ellaprime7 @marcelemry @nishayuro @hijinkxy @kerosene-demon @windrosesrasta @keikeiluvyou @darling-eos @iamapotatoe @yuzxi18 @woncloudie

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

back to life. l Joel Miller

Summary: an attempt to return to normality

Warnings: angst, a little bit of smut (+18), lots of bad emotions, tw: depressive episode; Tommy, Maria and Ellie; violence

A/N: it's a hard time for me. but I found a moment to write this. sorry that I'm still stuck in this series, it's comfortable for me

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

The next few days were really hard. Joel felt like every cell in his body was hurting him, even though it was you who had been through so much. The wounds were healing, the bruises were fading, but you were quieter and less visible. If it weren't for his willingness for you to take a bath, which Joel thought was the best thing for you, you wouldn't have gotten out of bed at all.

But Joel experienced something else during that time. In addition to fear for you, he encountered incredible human kindness and empathy. The people of Jackson seemed moved by what had happened. Soon, when Joel was on his way to the clinic about his collarbone, an older man who owned a bakery pressed a fresh loaf of bread into his hands and said with a smile that it was for you. 

Mrs. Russo appeared at the door the next evening, bringing with her a few of your favorite dishes. "I guess you don't have the head for cooking now. Take this, she's been enjoying it so much lately!"

Rory and his mother also showed up, and the boy handed Joel a bouquet of the first spring flowers, which he placed next to your bed. The small smile on your lips was worth everything.

Almost every afternoon, Ellie would sit with you, telling you that she absolutely needed help with her homework. Joel thought she was exaggerating and that she certainly didn't have that much to study for, but you were starting to get involved. Evenings were for the two of you, though.

Sometimes Joel would play something on the guitar, feeling your eyes follow his fingers as they struck the strings. He hadn't done it in years, but for you he'd pulled from his memory many of the songs he knew. Or he'd read books aloud. His warm, low voice carried through the bedroom, and you'd listen, clearly soothed by the sound.

Your bubble had to stretch, though, and it happened one evening. Joel came back later than usual, and then he convinced you to go downstairs. He led you out to the terrace and showed you something he had made for you. A wooden bench, very carefully crafted, with ornate armrests and fancy decoration. He had been working on it for a long time.

"It's so beautiful outside. I thought you might like to have your own place." he said, a little worried when he saw the tears in your eyes and your trembling lips. "You can spend time here, bask in the sun, read if you want."

"Nobody has ever done anything just for me." you said quietly.

And before he knew it, you kissed him, so truly. He hadn't felt the real you in a kiss for a long time, and now you were with him. In his strong arms, you were like a fragile creature, but Joel felt happy that you had achieved so much together. He believed that everything would be fine.

From then on, everything slowly began to change. You spent more time outside, and sometimes you went with him to the stables to take care of the horses. After a few days, Tommy and Maria invited you for dinner, and you showed up there too. When the dance was in Jackson, you went together, although you seemed hesitant about it, but Joel managed to talk you into a few slow dances with him.

"I want to take her out of Jackson," Joel stated when he and Tommy met up at the Tipsy Bison for a drink one day, "Just one day. We'll take the easy way out."

Tommy nodded, "It would do her good. Can she handle it?"

"She's tougher than we think. I can see she needs to get outside of those walls, even though she's still scared."

"And you're going to let her?" Tommy shook his head in disbelief, "What did she do to you, bro?"

"I miss her, you know... She's physically there, we sleep in the same bed, we eat together, we live together. But she..."

"I can see it in her eyes. What happened to her changed her... It would change anyone."

Joel took a sip from his glass. He didn't want to tell his brother that you hadn't slept together since then. No, Joel wasn't complaining. Your relationship had never been just about sex. But he still didn't know if he would scare you if he initiated it. You were sensitive and delicate, and although he knew you loved him, you didn't take that step yourself.

That day the weather was beautiful. The spring sun settled in the sky, and the forest and the surrounding area were beautifully green. You walked together, close to each other. 

Joel told you what had changed in the area recently, that the attic in the permanent barn on the other side of Jackson had caved in, or that he had seen a family of foxes sneaking past the camp during a patrol. He spoke as if you had been sick for a week, not completely cut off from life for almost a month.

You felt good, especially since he was next to you, and the care and tenderness towards you emanated from him. You wanted to go back to him, completely, but you weren't sure how to do it. Every day, every attempt, cost you a lot of strength. Guilts of conscience were churning inside you.

"I'm sorry, Joel." You finally said when you stopped at the edge of the forest.

Joel looked at the horizon, trying to see if the area was still safe for you, and turned around, surprised.

"What are you apologizing for, darling?" he asked, taking a step towards you.

You seemed so small to him, as if many things were pressing you to the ground at once, and you were barely able to stay on two legs. You looked at him as if you were about to cry.

"For everything." you finally answered "For having to take care of me. For every day that is so hard for you. I wish things were like they used to be... I don't know if I can. Maybe... Maybe..."

"Don't do that." he interrupted you, approaching you and taking your face in his hands "Stop here. What happened to us, what happened to you, is neither of our fault. But we'll deal with it, right?"

"How? I thought I was strong, but this..." you closed your eyes, and tears flowed from under your eyelashes. Joel patiently wiped them away with his thumbs "I keep wondering... Every shadow, every rustle makes me tremble. I've become nothing but a problem for each of you."

His strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you tightly to his chest. You snuggled into Joel with all your might. His arms were your shelter, the beating of his heart soothed yours. If it weren't for him, you would have fallen to pieces a long time ago.

"You don't even know, silly, how many people care about you and want to help you. They ask about you every day. You're not the problem, but you can't be strong all the time either. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about, because I tried to be. You and Ellie hold me together. Now it's our turn, we won't let you fall apart." He kissed the top of your head and sighed deeply "You don't even know how much I love you..."

It was late when you got back. Your clothes smelled of forest and wind, just like Joel's. You felt tired, but you were also a little lighter, more confident. He saw it in your eyes and promised himself that soon you would go out together again outside Jackson. 

However, Joel was most surprised when he felt your arms wrapped around his waist as he stood in the shower and the streams of hot water washed his body. You clung to his back, so gently as if you were afraid he would push you away. But Joel kissed your hands, and then turned around and looked at you with such love that you had never seen in his eyes. 

So you surrendered to this moment, because you wanted to, because it was him, because you wanted to feel alive again. 

And when you felt his cock moving deep inside you, when his lips caressed your neck, and the cool tiles imprinted on your back - only God knew how much life flowed in you again.

"Sorry, I wouldn't keep you from your work if it wasn't so important."

"Don't worry, the laundry will definitely wait for me." you chuckled as you and Maria headed towards the building that served as the city hall or headquarters in Jackson.

It was already late in the evening, Joel hadn't come home yet, and you were busy with the usual household chores. The following days were somehow easier and you were happy to have your strength back.

You went inside and Maria led you to the back. You noticed a few men in the rooms, who were also taking part in patrols. They seemed strangely tense to you, but Maria quickly drew your attention to herself.

"Listen, this could be an unpleasant experience for you." she said, her hand stroking your arm. "But we have to be sure."

"What do you mean?" you asked, frowning. "Did something happen? Something with Joel or Tommy?"

Maria shook her head, then pushed the door open and nodded for you to enter. It was a dark room and you noticed that the curtains were drawn tightly and the only light came from the lamps placed on the walls. In the middle, three men sat on chairs, they were not residents of Jackson. They seemed strangely familiar to you, but you couldn't...

Someone said your name and you noticed Joel and Tommy standing nearby.

"What's going on?" you asked quietly. "Who is it?"

Tommy cleared his throat. "We've been following them for a few days. We suspect that they attacked you. You, Sam and Anthony. One of them had Sam's private things."

You looked at the men again, now you understood. And they must have recognized you too, because they twitched nervously. Two of them looked away, trying to avoid your eyes, but one of them was staring at you wildly.

"I know that pussy." he muttered, a smile twisting his face covered with thick stubble "I thought you died in the woods. You're a smart bitch."

There was a loud impact, it was Joel who hit the man without thinking. His head tilted back, but after a moment his quiet laughter filled the room.

"Is that your pussy? How was I supposed to know that it already had its owner?"

"Don't you dare talk about it like that!" Joel growled and wanted to hit him again, but Tommy grabbed his arm.

He looked at you carefully. "Is that them?"

"He recognized her!" Joel hissed furiously "That should be enough!"

"I need to know!"

You weren't fully aware of it, as if your body had made the decision itself. Your head twitched in confirmation. That was enough.

"Get her out of here." Tommy ordered.

"Joel! No!" you groaned, but someone's arms grabbed you and forcibly led you out of the room. The door slammed shut with a bang. Even though you didn't see it, you knew what was about to happen.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | villain!reader, prohero!dynamight.

a.n; a bit of context for this little idea i had yesterday (LINK HERE). 😉🌟should i make it a serie?? 👀

The war lasted years. Years that brought not only destruction but losses that hurt deep in the soul. Years in which the whole world changed, including people. Deaths, injuries, betrayals. Wins and loses.

It took years to bring Shigaraki and his whole team down, but once it was done, Bakugou remembers clearly turning toward his best friend, Izuku, and hugging him so tight.

None of them will admit it, or at least Katsuki won't, but they both cried in that embrace.

Bakugou also remembers you.

You, who once used to fight alongside him and the rest of his hero friends. You, who knew them all from your first year at UA, because you had also been a classmate. You, who had shared laughs, cries, and many moments with them. You, who chose to betray them all and turn to Shigaraki's side.

He still remembers when it happened.

You had been right by his side; actually, back-to-back covering for him in the middle of a fight. Suddenly, the sun was clouded, leaving a gloomy and terrifying tension in the air.

"Enough!" A deep male voice roared, making everyone silent, heroes and villains alike. Bakugou felt your body tensing, and he immediately knew something was wrong.

"Y/N, stop this nonsense right now."

Bakugou turned and saw you looking straight ahead towards the voice. Your chest raised and lowered rapidly thanks to your breathing, he didn't know if it was because of the fight you both had recently been in or because you were afraid.

"Come. Now."

Bakugou didn't understand, or maybe he did but he didn't want to. But he definitely felt a sort of heaviness in his chest when he heard you murmur to him "I'm sorry" and walked towards the man.

He tried to stop you by grabbing your wrist, but you never turned to look at him. You simply shook his hand away and walked towards the villain.

"Don't make it any more dramatic, you stupid hero. She has always been one of us." The man smiled devilishly, an arm surrounding your shoulders once you stood by his side.

Bakugou felt like vomiting at that image.

Your betrayal felt heavy on everyone. But especially on Katsuki.

Why? Why did you do it? There had to be a reason behind your actions. You didn't even go willingly, he knew that. He saw it. He knew it had to be under some threat or something.

He just couldn't accept the fact that the only person he had felt any sort of feeling besides annoyance towards, could not be a villain. You were not a villain.

However, that's the title the government sentenced you under after the war. And how everyone saw you. A villain, someone who betrayed them.

You are a villain, who has been sentenced to a whole life in prison after the war was over, alongside many other villains. Many other people who betrayed the hero side too.

Katsuki had been at your trial when the sentence was declared. He and others too. Izuku, Mina, Sero, Ochako, Shoto and Denki. Many were missing, many were dead.

You were standing, the first one in a line of other betrayers, clearly on purpose, just to put more shame on your person for your decisions. And behind you were people like Hawks, Inasa, Koda and Jiro, among others. A system of anti-Quirk chains connecting all of you by the ankles and wrists.

"This is... unfair," Round cheeks sighed, eyes glossy, watching the people they knew. Or used to know.

Several mmhs agreed with her. Including Katsuki.

Call him biased, he'll fucking blast you to pieces, but he was sure you didn't have a choice. Something happened that made you turn, and he was going to fucking find out what happened.

Even if after the judge read your crimes and asked you how pleaded yourself and you simply said, "guilty", with a raspy, clearly hurting voice, yet your stance was neutral, cold even.

Bakugou Katsuki didn't believe it for one second.

He kicked away an empty cardboard box that was on the ground, clearly showing his anger, as everyone walked out of the courtroom.

"This is bullshit," Sero groaned, pissed off too.

"There's something we could do," Mina declared firmly, making everyone turn around to her as she was the last one leaving the room. "Follow me."

They were all standing outside now, in an adjacent alley from the Court of Law where the sentence had been made.

"Spill it." They were all alone now, no media, no civilians.

"Yeah, what did you mean, Mina?" Ochako took a step closer to her friend, clearly anxious.

"I heard this from lawyers yesterday at the girls' restroom in the CoL. They didn't know I was there too, so they were talking freely. One of them said that she was surprised no one mentioned one of the protections of one specific law regarding certain cases. Cases where heroes are undercover, where they have to join villains."

Katsuki took a step closer, full attention to what Mina was saying. All of them were paying attention.

"They said that probably that law wasn't brought into the defense because they have no defense. They are just taking the blame for the war because that's what the government wants. Someone to point at, someone to blame."

"Fucking pieces of shit."

"Oh my God, that's horrible!" Ochako cried, hugging herself.

"I understand it now. It's perfect for them. They once fought alongside us, but then they turned, probably under government directions to play undercover. And now they are taking the blame because there isn't enough evidence that can help them, that says the contrary. Or they don’t want to show it." Izuku analyzed, crossing his arms over his chest, eyebrows frowning in thought, clearly activating his "nerd mode".

"Well, that would apply to some of them," Denki said, the anger clear in every feature of his.

"What does that mean?" Sero asked, but he didn’t seem confused. More like, indignation making its way into him.

"Please. We all clearly know who I'm talking about." 

All eyes traveled to Katsuki.

"Don't you dare fucking say it."

"Come on, Bakugou! She was right beside you when it happened! Her freaking father called out to her and she went! She fucking chose to turn to their side!"

Before Katsuki even decided to move towards Denki, Izuku and Sero were already holding him back, each one grabbing him by his arms and pushing him away.

“Who do you fucking think you are, huh?! She took a fucking bullet for you, you asshole! You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for her, that same person you’re fucking accusing-...”

“She still betrayed us! She betrayed YOU.”

A growl left Katsuki’s mouth that could have frightened even All Might in his prime era, followed by a strong push that made Izuku and Sero activate their Quirks to hold their friend back. Uselessly.

But before he could reach where Denki was waiting for him, already electricity dancing around him, Mina stood right in between them, making Bakugou abruptly stop in his run in front of her.

“Cut it out! Both of you!” She yelled, “This is not the moment for this!” She told them off, scowling at each of them. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Denki, but if this is about Jiro,” Mina’s voice trembled, clearly upset about recognizing another of her dear friends who betrayed them. Denki’s hands closed in fists tightly, just like his eyes, as if the name physically injured him, “it’s the same as Y/N…”

“No, it’s not! She didn’t have another choice!”

“And what the fuck makes you think Y/N did?!” Katsuki yelled back.

“She walked away willingly!”

“Jiro did too!”

“I said, enough! Stop yelling!” Mina interfered again, “We are not going to do what everyone else is doing. We are not blaming our friends if we don’t know exactly what happened.”

“The only way to know is if we try to contact them, and all sorts of communications are restricted,” Ochako offered sadly.

Mina nodded, “If you all are done yelling, I was about to tell you guys how we can get them out of there.”

Bakugou buffed one last time, feeling Izuku’s hand on his bicep, pulling him away softly. The message was clear, “stand down, Kacchan, and calm down”. He took a deep breath and let Izuku drag him a few steps back.

Everyone’s attention was back on Mina, as she explained in good detail what they were going to do.

a.n; just so everyone is aware, i do NOT make taglists. sorry. don't hate me, please🥺

[luvsferrariss]

˚⟡˖ ࣪. ʚ 💌 ɞ of shadows and sins - OO1

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Synopsis: Y/n was handpicked by their boss to help the recruiter find new players. However, it was obvious that the man wouldn’t like the girl assisting him, constantly belittling her and mentioning how weak and unqualified she was for the job. But in reality, he knew about her influence and was afraid of being replaced.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ The Salesman x Female Reader (British)

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Warnings: Typical Squid Game elements—blood, weapons, death, etc. Age gap: the reader is between 24-25 years old, while the recruiter is 40. Some angst and feelings of loneliness. The reader lives in Korea but is not Korean; she is British.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Author’s Note: Hi loves! I’m making a short series about the salesman. I hope you all like it! English isn’t my first language, so there may be mistakes—sorry about that!

next part here ! 🤍

You sighed as you watched your coworker fail once again. The man he was trying to talk to didn’t care at all and walked right past him. You just sighed, rolled your eyes, and crossed your arms, leaning against the metro wall near the stairs.

The recruiter began walking in your direction with his chin held high, a proud—or perhaps wounded—expression on his face, and you laughed at his frustration.

“What happened, Mr. ‘I-can-do-everything’?” you teased. He simply walked past you, heading up the station stairs.

“Shut up,” he muttered, and you chuckled, following behind.

“Did you manage to do anything at all?” he asked as soon as he noticed you catching up on the stairs.

“While you wasted time talking to one man, I got four. All of them on the verge of bankruptcy—desperation was almost funny, I nearly felt bad for them.” You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your beige trench coat. “With their financial struggles and my pretty face, did you really think they wouldn’t accept?” You smirked, stopping in front of him and framing your face with your hands as if showing off.

He simply walked past you, bumping your shoulder.

“You’re so full of yourself, seriously… What’s even fun about your game? No one actually likes Gonggi that much,” he scoffed.

You just shrugged. “That’s what I was told to do. And your job isn’t that exciting either, right? At least mine is getting results. Yours, on the other hand…” You glanced up at the sky as you stepped out of the train station—it was already nighttime.

“Can you shut up for a single minute? I already have to deal with you all the time. For the love of—just stop talking, girl,” he snapped.

You simply looked at him, already used to his sudden outbursts.

“Oh, baby, don’t be sad. Tomorrow will be your day, and you’ll manage to recruit some people. Besides, aren’t you the boss’s impeccable, invaluable favorite recruiter?” You pouted playfully, stopping in front of him again, this time by your car. You cupped his face in your hands, only for him to push them away and roll his eyes.

“I’m not arguing with a brat… Why don’t you just go back to your family?” he said, setting his black suitcase down and rubbing his chin. “Oh, right. I forgot. You don’t have anyone because no one can stand you. Your parents abandoned you, and your fiancé cheated on you…”

He spoke slowly, and when his gaze met yours, he noticed a brief flicker of vulnerability—but you quickly masked it with a smile.

He almost felt bad for you. Almost. But he didn’t regret saying it, and he would do it again if necessary.

“Whatever. Family is just a burden. I don’t need anyone, and I can live just fine on my own. Besides, maybe you should be worried, huh? The boss would never have sent me to you if he didn’t think you needed help. Maybe he realized just how useless you are.” You winked and got into your car.

As you started the engine and rolled down the window, the man remained standing there, lost in his thoughts, trapped by your words.

“Hey, baby, don’t walk around alone at night. This area is dangerous,” you teased before driving off.

He simply clenched his jaw, a growing resentment bubbling inside him.

He saw you as a threat. You would never take his place.

( . . . )

When you arrived at your apartment, you tossed your keys onto the table and hung your coat in the closet. You placed your shoes inside as well before closing the door.

With a sigh, you headed straight to the bathroom, undressed, and stepped into the hot shower—you really needed this. The water cascaded down your body, relaxing you, and a tired sigh escaped your lips.

Your mother and father would never have been proud of the person you became, but that was their fault. They were the ones who raised you the “right” way. Any mistake was met with punishment.

You became cold, sarcastic, and quiet around others. But no one ever really knew you. No one saw the pain, the fear, or the scars you carried from a disturbing childhood.

You had a slight fear of showing emotions or affection to anyone. There was only one person you had ever felt comfortable with, but even they betrayed you. So now, you truly had no one.

That day in the alley changed your life—but you still wondered if it was for better or worse. Everything felt strange. You felt strange.

Some days, your emotions felt numb. Other days, you just wanted to break down and cry with someone. But everyone you had trusted either betrayed you or left you traumatized. You would never trust anyone again.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turned off the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel, drying your hair with another. You went to your room, grabbed some pajamas from your closet, and got dressed. After brushing and drying your hair, you applied some perfume and walked into the kitchen to make some tea.

One of the perks of living alone and having no friends was that you could use the guest room however you wanted—so you turned it into a library.

Once your tea was ready, you grabbed a book and headed to the balcony of your penthouse. The cold air brushed against your skin, but somehow, it didn’t bother you.

[duckieselz]

Hi!!

Name: Duck/Hoose, either one is fine!

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: Uncomfortable sharing, but i am a minor!

Hobbies: Art (i can’t do digital art :[ ), DIYs, watching anime’s, playing games

Fandoms: This is just a list a of fandoms i’ve been in or currently am in

-Life Series <3333

-Hermitcraft

- Phenoix Wright Ace Attorney

-Henry Stickman (don’t judge </3)

-MLP (AGAIN DONT JUDGE..)

-Danganronpa v1 and v2 (ok i rlly don’t like kokichi so i refuse to acknowledge v3) <333

-lil bit of FANF

-Doki Doki Lit Club

-Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared

-Sally Face <333333

-a very small amount of Owl House

-Gacha (retired gacha kid </3)

-CRK Cookie Run Kingdom

Fuck ton of anime’s… here’s most of them?

-MHA

-One punch man

-Death note

-Ms. Kobaiohsies Dragon Maid <— first ever anime ever i watched so don’t judge me because it’s a gooner anime (also yes ik i spelt it wrong.)

-SpyxFamily

-Buddy Daddies

-Demon Slayer

-Magical Girl Site

I think that’s all the animes?

Social Media: I have Tiktok, Insta, Discord, Snapchat, Pinterest, Youtube, Whatsapp (if that even counts) and surprisingly Tumblr

WARNING I will swear on my Tumblr! I HIGHLY doubt that i will be having any triggering posts on my tumblr and if i do i will have a TW on it

Thank you to @rins-batcave to getting me into Tumblr especially!

and for being my friend

Moots: @sparky4577 @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @forestgromlin @th3-r4t-48 @thelovelyvie @sage-way @asters-tempo @s4ge-s4ge-s4ge @yuk444 @in-the-corner-reading @nelyo-finwe @secretangel555 @boughtmender @workplacefire @abs0l3m @spooky-cryptid-friend @ashmoor @dustyoldclock @l0s3rb0y-hesfckingdead @rin-is-amazing @choucon @mildlybizarrecorvid @sage-way @theseustheking @shark-tranny @jergenn @aesthetic-writer18 @taleofapart-timepoet @sokittykingdom @its-alaina13 @n1nja2019 @ilovemyeif @remithegayshoebill @deadhighloser

SORRY IF I FORGOT YOU!! REMIND ME IF I DID!!

That’s all i can think of right now but i believe i will be updating this intro post often

[crowsofdarkness]

Time: Chapter Seven

-gif not mine. credit to owner.-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: fluff, angst, language, violence, and mentions of death.

Summary: Your relationship with Bucky could withstand anything, even time itself.

Authors Note: This series will have twenty one chapters, some of which will be short and quick, and takes place throughout the forties. I did my best to line up the days along with Captain America: The First Avenger. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @that-blonde-girl @bookofriverr @starfly-nicole @ell0ra-br3kk3r @baw1066

Time Masterlist

March 4, 1942. 3:00 pm.

The bottom of my skirt blew in the wind as I rushed down the sidewalk, passing people by with a quick apology. My shift at the diner lasted longer than I would have liked and I was supposed to meet Steve at the theater twenty minutes ago. 

“Sorry!” I yelled while pushing through a young couple. 

Steve and I had planned on hanging out, the two of us, because even though he hadn't said anything I knew it was bothering him that Bucky and I hadn't seen him in awhile. I worried that he thought I had returned to my promise because I was late. 

Bucky was more than okay with Steve and me hanging out without him. We were friends before Bucky came into the picture, which is why he never got upset with us hanging out. There was also something Bucky had to do today, but he wouldn’t tell me what. 

The last few weeks he had been acting strange and I could tell he was hiding something from me. He wouldn’t allow me to be in his bedroom alone, afraid that I would find whatever he was keeping in there. 

Immediately my mind thought of a beautiful diamond that he could be hiding but I brushed away those thoughts. We had been dating for less than a year. There was no way he would propose. 

Right? 

“Y/N!” 

My feet came to a sudden halt when I saw the small man leaning against the brick of the building behind him. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I came straight from work,” I motioned to my work uniform. 

Steve waved me off. “It’s alright, the movie hasn’t even started yet.” 

Linking our arms together, I let Steve lead us into the theater while mentioning that he had already bought the tickets for us. It was a trash movie that we knew not many people would be here to see but that was the kind of movie we loved. Ones that we can laugh at and talk about days later. 

“Have you heard from Buck?” Steve asked. 

We were waiting in line for popcorn and I shook my head. “He said he was going to stop by the diner for lunch but he never showed up.” 

Steve padded my arm. “Don’t look too much into it/, Y/N. Buck’s not that kind of guy.” 

He knew that my mind was racing with thoughts of Bucky with other women. 

“I know but he’s been so distant lately.” 

“Maybe after the movie we’ll swing by his place and see what’s up with him,” Steve suggested with a shrug. 

I nodded and after we ordered our snacks, we continued to walk arm in arm towards the dark theater. We both were surprised that it was somewhat packed but we were able to find a spot in the middle row. 

Everything passed by great while waiting for the show to start but when a man a few rows in front of us started yelling and throwing things at the screen, I knew that the peace had vanished. There was a clip playing about the current war going on overseas and I could feel Steve tense up next to me. 

He sighed before leaning forward towards the guy. “Hey, you want to show some respect.” 

The guy ignored Steve so I gently patted his knee, telling him to let it go. 

“It’s not worth it, Steve.” 

The man wasn’t what had pissed Steve off, it was the fact that no matter how many times he tried to enlist, the government continued to deny Steve. Bucky and I both knew that it was slowly eating away at Steve that he wasn’t able to enlist. My mind was swirling with worry that Bucky would get his orders to fight. I hadn’t stopped to think of how Steve had been feeling with being told no over and over again. 

The man in front of us continued to hurl words, loudly, towards the screen. Steve couldn’t take it any longer, anger radiated off of him. 

“Hey, you want to shut up!” He yelled. 

My body tensed when I saw the man in front of us, twice the size of Steve, stand up and look directly at us. Worried eyes bounced from Steve to the man a few times and before I could part my lips, they were making their way out of the theater. My hushed protests fell on Steve’s deaf ears. 

“One of these days, that poor boy is going to get himself killed,” I sighed while gathering my things and hurriedly followed him. 

His signature catchphrase of whenever he fought bullies, ‘I can do this all day’ bounced around in my mind. 

By the time I reached outside, the chilly air causing my skin to rise, I knew I was too late in stopping the fight. The sounds of flesh on flesh, metal cans falling to the hard pavement lead me to the alley behind the theater. 

The sight in front of me caused my jaw to drop, mouth catching whatever bugs were flying around. Steve was dusting himself off while the man from the theater lay on the ground, blood pooling from his nose. That wasn’t what made my feet come to a sudden halt; it was the man dressed in the army uniform. 

“Bucky?” 

He turned on his heels and with his bright eyed smile, he reached for my hand. “Where have ya been, doll?” 

I ignored his question and motioned to the uniform. “Did you get your orders?” 

Bucky heard the shakiness in my voice so he hesitantly nodded. “The 107th. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for London first thing tomorrow.”

I nearly choked on my own saliva at his announcement. 

“Tomorrow?!” 

My echo jumped off the concrete walls of the alley. 

Buky nodded with a soft sigh. “I know, sweetheart. I thought we would have more time but I spent the last few days getting everything in order with my ma so we could have my last night together; with Steve.” 

I couldn’t help but giggle in my sad state at the thought of once again, Steve third wheeling our dates. 

“Don’t feel like you have to include me,” Steve interjerked which caused Bucky to shake his head. 

“I want to spend my last night in New York with my favorite people,” He looked between Steve and I. “You two need to get cleaned up.” 

“Where are we going?” I questioned. 

Bucky handed me a newspaper that read World Exposition of Tomorrow. He was one of the biggest science nerds we knew so it didn't surprise me that this is what he wanted to spend his last night doing. 

No matter how bad my heart was hurting, not knowing how long he would be gone for or even if he would return, I plastered my best fake smile and nodded. 

“Pick me up at my apartment around six?” 

Bucky twirled me into his arms, his soft lips finding their home against my own. The kiss was slow and passionate but quick when Steve sighed with uncomfortableness. 

“Wear your best dancing shoes, doll.” 

I smirked before molding into his body once more, pressing our lips together again. “Always do, Buck.”  

[amuseintime]

A Stage of Healing

The Play is Over but the Script Remains/Scriptfrin Saga

For anyone who doesn't know, "Scriptfrin" is a Siffrin who sometimes goes semi-verbal after the loops, (mostly) only able to repeat the "script" from his time in there. I have a bit of it up here, but most of it is in this series on AO3 (though for the general concept, you can just read "Line, Please.")

Months after the loops, Siffrin and their family are walking around a town and Bonnie happens to notice samosas in the window… the thing that they had basically every blinding night in the loops. Siffrin is clearly bothered, but not in the way you'd expect. All this leads to a long talk, a one man performance, and a lot of laughs. Humor and Hurt/Comfort (heavier on the comfort).

Crossposted here on AO3.

(And always, if you like what I do, reblog, leave a comment, or maybe buy me a Kofi?)

“Oh oh oh! Guys! Look, this place has samosas!” Bonnie said, tugging them through the streets of Bagon. Even amongst Vaugaurde, the area was known for its cooking. The smells of food filled the streets, enough to make even the pickiest child consider trying something new, and the outdoor market was in full swing now that it was warming up again!

It was that perfect time of year where spring made it warm enough to travel, but still cold enough to enjoy some nice, hot food (and oh Change, being medicated again made her hungry!), or at least Mirabelle thought so! It was still too cold for Bonnie and Odile, and Siffrin kept pretty warm with his cloak, but she and Isabeau seemed to like it! 

And speaking of Siffrin, he was staring at where Bonnie had seen samosas on the menu. While they were all getting better at reading Siffrin, sometimes it was still a little difficult. This was one of those times. His head was tilted, an odd look in his eye. Not necessarily upset, but not exactly happy either. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but only a breath came out.

It wasn’t just her that noticed. Isabeau put a gentle hand on their shoulder, not minding that Siffrin jumped before settling into the contact. “You alright, Sif?” 

“Huh?” Siffrin blinked owlishly. “Ah, sorry. Was just remembering something.”

Odile’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? Remembering what?”

“Remembering loop stuff…

Loop stuff? From samosas?

Bonnie jolted. “OH RIGHT!!! Crab, sorry Frin! I forgot that’s why I stopped making Samosas! ‘Cause you had ‘em every day in forever school.” 

Oh that’s right! Mirabelle had forgotten that Bonnie made samosas that day, but makes sense Siffrin wouldn’t have…

Bonnie took Siffrin’s hand to start tugging him away. “We can go somewhere else-“

“No.” He said it a bit too seriously, which he must’ve noticed as he smiled and mussed up Bonnie’s hair. “I can’t deny my Bonbon TWO of their three favorite foods!” He looked back to the shop. “Besides, I’m pretty sure they sell more than JUST Samosas. Though they might not be as… as…” They scrunched up their eye, glaring at the sign for a moment. Then their eye widened and they puffed themselves up as they said, “DE~LI~CIOUS as yours would be.”

“Why’d you say it weird?” Bonnie asked.

“I was trying to sound like Isa? It’s, uh… been a while. Since I heard that.” He trailed off again, staring into space…

Odile went over to the door and said, “Would you like to have this talk on a chair with some hot food, or would you rather keep staring through the window like an incompetent stalker?”

“Madame!” Mirabelle squealed. You can’t just?! Say that?!

But say it she did, and everyone else was laughing, even as Siffrin also tried to sink into his cloak like a turtle. 

“Yeah yeah, we should go in. But, um… I need time. To get thoughts together first? And not do this in public?”

“Reasonable enough. Now get in, I’m cold.”

They all filed inside. Only Bonnie ended up ordering the samosas, but none of them entirely missed the way that Siffrin eyed them.

————

They were all back at the nearest inn… which was fairly packed, given that spring was here. Mirabelle wasn’t the least bit surprised. After all, Spring was quite important in the Change religion! A time for new growth, a fresh start, and a reminder that while Change was destruction, it was creation too! A lot of people celebrated by picking up new hobbies, clearing out some space for those hobbies and just tidying in general (Spring Cleaning!), travel, and bonding ceremonies. 

All of this to say, there was only one room available… but Madame Odile was pretty insistent on NOT having only one bed, and somehow they ended up with three. Mirabelle made sure to slip extra tips to the poor staff, that was mortifying! Though the space was nice…

“I call Mira!” Bonnie said, grabbing her hand. She could only yelp in shock as they were both catapulted to the nearest bed, making it thunk against the wall. 

“Can I call Sif?” Isabeau said, chuckling at the not-actually-a-question. Even in the days before they saved Vaugaurde, it was rarer that they didn’t sleep together. 

Siffrin stuck his tongue out and, “Nah. Isa…” they trailed, took a quick breath in, and smirked, “Isa has to sleep on the floor.” They looked over to Odile for a moment, then jumped a few inches when Bonnie laughed instead.

“FINALLY! No more being gross!” Bonnie cheered.

“I was just joking,” Siffrin said.

“BOOOOOO!”

“Yaaaaaay!” Isabeau said, even clapping his hands and looking all sparkle-eyed at Siffrin (how had she missed that they liked each other?!) 

“Heh! Heh…” Siffrin trailed off again.

Oh Change. “Hey, Siffrin? Are you okay?” Mirabelle walked over and… wait, crab, what does she do with her hands now? Um… “Pat Pat!” Head pats, sure! Wait… Oh Change, he actually leaned in that’s??? So??? Cute?!?!

Siffrin smiled, eye shutting, and let out a sigh. “I’m alright, just…” He shuffled his feet, looking down, then up again, staring at the ceiling.

“Is this related to earlier in any way?” Odile asked.

Siffrin looked aside. “… maaaaaybe…” 

“We aren’t doing anything too close to the loops, are we?” Isabeau said. “I’m willing to actually sleep on the floor if-“

“NO! I mean, kinda, but also no? You don’t have to sleep on the floor, Isa. And it’s, um… weird.”

“Yeah, well, you’re weird! And we like you that way,” Bonnie huffed. “So out with it!” They scampered over to the door and held their arms out. “No escape!”

Siffrin blinked dumbly. Once. Twice. “Snrk-“ He plopped down on bed and started laughing. “Oh come on! I’m not that bad at talking…” he looked around the room and added, “…anymore!” 

Odile nodded, “I will concede, you’ve gotten better. But Boniface, stay there.”

“Sorry ‘Za! I’m the Defender now! Ehehe.”

“Oh nooooo!” Isabeau said, dramatically swooning onto the ground in exaggerated defeat. Everyone laughed. Some a little, some a lot, but they all laughed, even Isabeau!

Change, she loved these people.

“So then… Siffrin…” Mirabelle stepped closer with the utmost seriousness. Siffrin trembled before her! “You will…” Pause for dramatic effect, hand on her currently missing sword (she was in pajamas after all)… “Talk about your feelings!!!”

“NOOOOOOO!” Siffrin moaned, collapsing onto the bed and snickering. Though he sighed and rolled to look at all of them. “… but okay. Just… promise you won’t find it weird or wrong?”

“Of course, young one.”

“Sif, we aren’t going to judge you!”

“Never! Never ever!”

“I mean, you are weird, Stupidfrin, but tell! Us!” 

Siffrin squeaked and rolled into a ball like a little hedgehog.

Mirabelle couldn’t help but giggle, “Oh no! We came on too strong!” She sat down in bed next to him.

“Scared like the stray animal he is,” Odile tutted.

Maybe it was a little mean to poke this much fun when he was having problems… but it seemed to relax him, actually? She could say from experience that treating it too seriously was anxiety inducing itself!!! A cornered animal bites! 

Siffrin pushed himself up, shuffling close enough that their knees and elbows bumped together, but not much else. “Thanks guys.” In… out. “I dunno how you guys are so sweet when I’m so weird…”

“Like Boniface said, we already know that. It’s going to take more than a few new quirks to scare us off.” 

Blushing, Siffrin tried to bury into their collar, but he was in night clothes. No cloak! So cute! Everyone was nice enough not to mention it.

They continued, “It’s just…” He looked around as though looking for a distraction, but no one was interrupting. “With the samosas, it, uh… Took me a moment. To remember. What you guys said.”

Odile raised an eyebrow. “And that’s… bad?”

“It shouldn’t be…?” Siffrin squirmed. One of his hands found one of Mirabelle’s. She gave it a little squeeze, and he gave one back. “I mean. I… Let’s talking about something. Stars-!” 

Mirabelle squeezed his hand again. “There’s no rush.”

In… out. In. And out. “Thank you.” One more time. Big breath in… big breath out. “I guess it surprised me more than anything. Which is? Kinda dumb???”

Isabeau tried to cut in, “It’s not-“

But Siffrin kept talking, “I was careful! No wishes! No ‘Hi Isa, I need to do the Favor Tree thing!’ Even though I thought I wis- though I wanted to forget. But I didn’t mean those parts!” He held tighter to her hand, breath quickening. “I wanted to forget the King and the Sadnesses and the Head Housemaiden! Not you guys!”

Everyone tried to act at once, tried to protest, but Mirabelle was closest. She took his face in her hands—ignore the way he jumped, the moment of panic, the memory of a slap—and made him look her in the eyes. “Siffrin. You are NOT forgetting us! We’re right here, okay?” 

Bonnie barreled into him, Isabeau showed a little more restraint and just opened his arms for the group hug, and Odile messed up his hair a bit from the side. 

“Yeah! No way you can forget me!!!” Bonnie shouted.

“I would hug the memory back into you,” Isabeau said. 

Siffrin snorted, relaxing into the group hug. “Thanks guys, heh. Sorry, like I said. It’s a little bit weird, but I guess…” he had to stop to breathe again. “I guess a lot of things. I don’t want to forget more. Some part of me’s scared I’ll somehow forget my scripts and just go entirely mute. And it’s- it’s the only proof I have that it happened, because it didn’t! It didn’t happen to anyone else. Not on the loop that stuck!” His grasp on them tightened. Not painfully so, not when spread out across three people, but it was noticeable. “And it’s kind of not blinding fair! I- I… ‘I’d rather you ask everyone else if they need help, first.’ And I did! And- and THANK YOU SNACK LEADER FOR THIS DELICIOUS MEAL! and Fromage and… and it… How can I help you on this wonderful new loop…”

He let out a bitter laugh. “… it didn’t happen.” 

No one knew what to say. What even could they say? There was a heaviness in the air, an oppressive silence. It felt like if something broke it, everything might shatter…

But Change is destruction, and Mirabelle was a Housemaiden. “It happened to you.”

“But-“

“No, Mirabelle is right,” Odile said. “Even if it didn’t technically happen to anyone else, it happened to you for the equivalent of months. And if I recall correctly, you’ve mentioned before that that was your rock bottom, as it were.”

“I don’t think anyone blames you for feeling cheated, Sif,” Isabeau said. “Or for missing good memories, or, uh… wishing things went better.”

Siffrin sighed, resting his head on Isabeau’s shoulder. “I just, I just wish- wait! No. I want you guys to remember too. But I know that can’t happen without, um, actually wishing it. And no thank you. I think sharpening my dagger is the most wishcraft I want anymore.”

“Fair and valid,” Isabeau said. 

“Yeah… though I feel like it’d get confusing, having two memories of the same day,” Mirabelle said.

Siffrin gave her the most deadpan look and-

“Oh Change, I guess you technically do have a lot of the same day huh,” Mirabelle said one quiet breath. 

Siffrin chuckled, “Understatement. Though for better or worse, the fact that I, uh, didn’t change much made parts of it less confusing? Like…” He looked around and his eye widened. “Y’know, if you push that bed off the far wall to be more in the middle, it looks like the clock tower…” He trailed into mumbles as he just… apparently decided to do that! Without much issue! Sometimes Mirabelle forgot how strong they were now.

Isabeau, regardless, decided to pick up the other end and help. “Uh. I am going with this because you started it, but why are we doing a thing that seems kinda tailor made to trigger you, Sif?”

“I have, like, half an idea. Working on it,” Siffrin said as he set the bed down.

“Curious as I am, I’m with Isabeau on this one. This seems ill-advised,” Odile said. 

“That took, like, five seconds. We can move it back!” Siffrin huffed, sitting on the newly moved bed. “Besides. They’re way closer.” The room was quite a bit smaller than the clock tower after all, not really meant to shove all five of them in there.

“Oh! Are we making one BIG bed?” Mirabelle said. “Ultimate bed!!!”

“Gross, Frin! I don’t wanna be next to you and Za KISSING!”

“I agree with the preteen,” Odile said. “Veto’d.”

“That’s not-!” Siffrin huffed and pulled his legs in to sulk.

Oh no! “C’mon, we should probably let Siffrin think! And then tell us, um, what he’s thinking,” Mirabelle said.

“Thank you!” Siffrin said, flopping onto his back with an overdramatic huff. There were a few chuckles, but then they let the poor guy think. 

Siffrin took a deep breath. “So… I know I’ve been, uh, a little skittish. With play stuff.” They’d tried to see one once or twice, but he couldn’t step foot into a theatre without looking like he was just… empty. “But maybe I could act it out…?” His voice hoy quieter until it was a near whisper, eye averted…

And she couldn’t blame him. Isabeau and Odile both looked like he’d suggested going to swim with Sadnesses, and Bonnie looked to Odile and tried to mimic it.

“Sif, I don’t think-“

“Don’t be stupid, Frin-“

“Young one, this might not-“

“I THINK IT’S A GREAT IDEA!” Mirabelle shouted… and jumped, surprised at just how loud that came out. And oh Change, all eyes were on her now! But… oh, just pretend they’re in their underwear… hmm, that doesn’t work as well when you’ve had to wash clothes and bathe in rivers and have actually seen that. 

Deep breath, like Siffrin! They’re her friends, and it’s her turn to help. She walks over to Siffrin, sitting beside him and pulling them up enough to take their hands in hers. “I know it might sound a little counter-intuitive, to do something relating to what scares you, or, um, trauma in your case, but sometimes it’s good to? In little ways where you have control!”

She rubbed the backs of his palms with her thumbs. “It’s kind of like reading horror books? Getting to be a little scared, but safely? Or, hmm… no. Not reading… writing fanfiction! All the control is in my hands! I can make it horrible if I want, or can make them live happily ever after, or can have them face my greatest fears in front of an audience and make out over the gorey remains! And yeah, maybe it’s scary, but it’s safe scary? My, um… some of the other Housemaidens who are good at medicine and therapy and stuff recommended it, actually.”

She smiled at Siffrin, putting a hand on his cheek. The rest are probably staring at her, but this is no grand stage. It’s… “It’s us, our family! Not a whole theatre, not Dormont, or a House or anything like that. You’re safe here with us, and you can stop or break the script whenever you want, okay?“

He was looking at her like she was the one who made the seasons change and sun move across the sky. “Okay.”

She stood up and clapped. “Good!” And then dared look around. Everyone was staring!

“So, did you take a class on psychology, then?” Odile asked. 

“Three. One of which was actually theatre related!”

“Crab yeah Mira!” Isabeau pumped his fist for her. 

“You guys are nerds,” Bonnie said.

They couldn’t refute that! 

“Snrk- yeah, we can’t all be as cool as you, Bonbon,” Siffrin said. “So… if we’re good, do I just, like, do it…? I mean, the scene setting is already here.”

“What, by yourself?” Odile said.

“I’m not writing you a script and having you do it. If I see you guys say and do those things again, it might actually give me a panic attack,” Siffrin said. He stood up on the bed. “Sorry guys! One man show!”

“One! Man! Show!!!” Bonnie cheered. “Should I make popcorn?”

“I mean, yes, always,” Isabeau said. “But how long should this take?”

“Not long. Two minutes or so? Provided you don’t combust, Isa~”

“Wait, why would I combust???” Isabeau was already blushing some, holding his hands up defensively.

“EW! I don’t wanna hear you pretend to be Za being mushy! We get enough of that!” 

Siffrin smirked. “Okay, but, then you can laugh at me being Isa being mushy. And you’re in this scene too!”

Bonnie’s eyes went wide, mouth open in childish awe. “Am I yelling at you?”

“Mmmmmmaybe~” Pause. “Yes.”

“I KNEW IT!”

“Oh I’m going to have to give the neighbors something to make up for this,” Mirabelle whispered to herself. It wasn’t too late though, so hopefully they weren’t in, or at least weren’t trying to sleep.

“Dile! Get the tea heater!” They pulled out a small pan and lid from their bag. “I’m making POPCORN!” 

“Guess we’ve got a few minutes before the show. Everyone take your seats~”

“There is only one chair, and I claim it,” Odile said. 

“Overbooked! A tragedy!” Isabeau said with an exaggerated gasp and hand over his heart. 

Mirabelle, meanwhile, felt some of her theatre classes coming back. Just the rehearsals though! There was a play, but she panicked so hard that poor Junette had to just throw on the bonnet she was supposed to wear and, well, improving that that mother requesting help was the secretly the villain in disguise was sheer genius, actually! 

Wait… “Oh!” She pulled an extra bow from her bag and gave it to Siffrin. “Here! To play me! Um, assuming I’m here?” 

“You were!”

“Hmm, probably better than you attempting to do accents. Because, young one, if I didn’t know you, I’d think your attempt at mimicking me was offensive on purpose,” Odile said, smirking at Siffrin.

“Sorry Madame.”

“Here,” she passed him those weird, opaque glasses that they’d… wait… when did she get those??? 

“What about you, Bonbon. Should I steal your hat~?” Siffrin teased, inching to where it was piled atop their things.

“No. Borrow a spatula.” 

“Bon yes bon!” They pulled a spatula. Brilliant!

“Wait! What can I give you…?” Isabeau said, making a sad puppy dog face. And that was fair! Siffrin’s ears weren’t pierced, and putting earrings on and off would be a chore anyways. And Isabeau’s gloves were just too big for Siffrin’s hands!

It apparently stumped everyone as they just stared… 

Until Bonnie said, “Make your hair stand up like a bird’s.”

That alone got a chuckle out of some of them, and it turned to outright laughs when Isabeau fake cried, “So MEAN! I’m not a bird. I’m buff!”

“The buffest of birds,” Siffrin said, pressing again Isa and standing on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. 

Bonnie threw some corn at them. 

“Worth it!” Isabeau chirped.

The popcorn was ready shortly afterwards, salted and put in a little bowl in front of everyone. Siffrin was on the bed, stage right. He spit in his hand to spike up his hair, like a bird!

“Sif…” Siffrin deepened his voice, prompting snorts from all of them at his attempt to sound like Isabeau. “Hey… hey Sif. Siffrin. Siffarooni.” 

Siffrin then scooted over and tamped his hair down just to look behind him then quickly scoot back and fluff his hair again. If the ridiculousness of such an act weren’t silly enough, it was clear he was aware of this, trying not to laugh. 

He took a deep breath and got back “in character,” looking at the empty space in front of him with the biggest, puppiest eye he could muster. “Um… Sorry? To wake you? I just have to tell you something. If that’s okay?”

“Oh crab, I didn’t!!!” Isabeau groaned, pressing his hands into his eyes. 

“In front of my Belle?!” Bonnie said, gesturing to Mirabelle like she was an art piece.

Siffrin once more played “himself” and nodded before doing his silly little scoot back to being Isabeau. “Okay, okay, okay. Then I shall tell you the thing! The thing I woke you up to tell you!”

“Siiiiiif I take it back let’s end this!” Isabeau groaned. 

“Quiet, I’m watching the show,” Pdile said, taking a handful of popcorn.

Bonnie seemed considerably more interested in laughing at Isabeau, but Siffrin didn’t seem to mind.

Siffrin continued, unmoved by the begging. “Haha! Um. So.”

“The thing I have to tell you. Is. That…” Siffrin looked off to the side, a snort escaping as he caught Isabeau’s clearly shaded face. Still, he delivered his line. “I don’t have anything to tell you right now. But I will, when, uh, we beat the King, okay?”

“Oh Change and I said this every night, didn’t I? Aaaaargh that must’ve gotten so crabbing annoying!” Isabeau moaned. 

“Now you know how I feel!” Bonnie said.

Siffrin was back in his place, but… “Uh… hmm. Breaking character of, uh… myself? A sec? Eventually I just got quiet but that’s more sad than funny, so we’re doing the funny one. Okay back to it!” He cleared his throat. “That is still SO ominous, Isa.”

Back to Isa and oh Change he actually did a really good impression of Isabeau’s flustered face! “I, uh, just don’t wanna tell you right now when it might distract you! Wouldn’t want that! So, uh, I’ll tell you when we beat the, um, King, okay?”

Siffrin looked at them, opened his mouth to say something, then it split into a head manic grin as an idea hit. Oh Change here we go. 

Siffrin bolted up, snapped, grabbed the spatula and a pillow, threw it, dropped the spatula, and lunged for the bed so it hit him in the face. 

“SIF?!”

“Pfffft, hahaha!”

“PILLOW! THROW!”

“Hahahaha! Oh noooooo!” 

They had to take a short intermission from everyone laughing too hard. Once, even twice it almost ended, but someone snickered and started it again! But third time’s the charm.

Siffrin picked the dropped spatula back up, “I’ll wash this after,” and then got on the middle bed and pointed accusingly at the empty bed, “SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP!” 

“HEY I DON’T SOUND LIKE THAT!” Bonnie huffed.

“Oh he’s trying,” Mira said. Though truthfully, the squeaky voice Siffrin had chosen was awful.

“You hit me with a pillow?!” Isabeau said.

“I would’ve used a book,” Odile said.

Siffrin hit the bed and set the bow on his hair. “YEAH ISABEAU! SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP! CLOSE YOUR MOUTH AND SLEEP!”

“PFFFT, Belle sounds like a mouse!” Bonnie said. “Belle’s on my side Belle’s on my side!”

Then Siffrin rushed over to stage right once more, slicking hair in the midst of a fit of giggles. “CLOSE YOUR MOUTH HOUSEMAIDEN! YOU’RE GONNA WAKE UP M’DAME ODILE!”

“How could I have slept through this?” Odile said. 

Siffrin went to the far bed, stifling giggles behind his hand before putting on the dark glasses and somehow managing to be utterly serious as he said, “I’m already up.” He didn’t bother with a voice, but got the tone scarily serious. 

“Oh, so I didn’t,” Odile remarked.

“And if the noise continues, I will stand up. You do not want to know what will happen if I stand up.”

Aaaand right back to the energy. He looked exaggeratedly spooked as he picked up the spatula and dove under the covers. “Sorry.” Then tried to roll over, presumably to be Mirabelle, and-

THUMP! “NYA!”

“Did you-?”

“Did he-?”

“Did Sif-?”

“Did they-?”

“Stars- YES I JUST SAID NYA!” Tangled in the sheets, Siffrin had hit the floor, and now was hiding in the covers, wiggling futilely for a few seconds before giving up. “… for the record. That did not happen. Uh… crew? A little help? Rather not cut these.”

Mirabelle giggled as she got up, helping get the sheets off without having to resort the scissors craft. 

Siffrin brushed the dust off of him, held the bow up, and gave a quick little, “Sorry.”

Then went back to be Isabeau. “Sorry m’dame…” He looked appropriately abashed, but the look turned into one of a familiar, adoring smile. “Good night, Sif!” 

“Aaaaaand scene!” Siffrin said, standing back up and giving a little bow.

They all clapped for him, even if Bonnie was breathless from laughing and Isabeau was still dark-cheeked. 

“Good job, Siffrin!” Mirabelle said, going over and playfully spinning him… and forgetting their current lack of space, squawking as they both tumbled onto a bed, laughing and breathless.

Isabeau must’ve gotten jealous as he scooped Siffrin into his arms and started kissing his cheek! “Mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah!”

“GROOOOOOSSSS!” Bonnie whined.

Siffrin was laughing so much that both he and Isa had to sit down a minute, but eventually Siffrin got back up to put the bed back, then munch on some popcorn. “Mmmmm, good as always, Bonbon~” They mussed up Bonnie’s hair with a smile as more salty snacks disappeared into their mouth. 

“I AM the best chef cooker after all!” Bonnie said, little chest puffed out.

“You are!” Siffrin said. He went a bit quiet for a moment before saying, “Speaking of that, we’re near a market anyways… wanna try making those fritters again? Maybe with a few spicy peppers?”

“YEAH!!!”

“We might wanna grab something for the neighbors too, if only to apologize…” Mirabelle said. 

“And we haven’t been kicked out yet, so to bribe the inkeepers as well,” Odile said.

“MADAME!”

They went into another bout of giggles and finished up the popcorn before going to brush teeth and settle in…

And in the dark and quiet, as she was starting to drift off to sleep, she could hear Isabeau say, “And hey Sif, just gonna tell it this time… I love you!”

“I love you too!”

Mwah!

And that night, everyone slept well.

-----

I prefer tea, but buy me a Kofi?

[whoredyceps]

"OH LOVER BOY!" || 28 Days of Love: A Valentine's Challenge + Series

day ten: love at first sight

ᰔ pairing: frankie 'catfish' morales x reader

ᰔ summary: a special delivery for the catfish, in the form of heart cookies— and a baby's nap interrupted.

ᰔ author's note: short and sweet, grammy award winning album AND the essence of this little ficlet. i just watched triple frontier so i'm still getting used to frankie's character and how to write him. please let me know how i can improve/thoughts/constructive criticism!!! i hope y'all enjoy :)

ᰔ content warning: frankie being a single father, fluff, domestic situation, baby warning

You counted the heart cookies on the plate one last time before you finally wrapped the whole thing in saran wrap. It had been the tenth set you had made over the course of the night, and well into the morning.

Now, you were able to look at the labor of love you had created.

Ha. A labor of love to make enough cookies for the entire neighborhood. You weren't able to just go the easy route— stop at the local grocery store and buy cookies already baked. Instead, you were determined to make raspberry jam shortbread cookies, all heart shaped and dusted with sugar.

As you said every year, you were definitely buying store-bought treats next year. You weren't doing this to yourself again.

You loaded up the plates into a wagon you used for your gardening supplies. Once they were loaded up, you set off down the sidewalk to your immediate neighbor's house. A sweet older couple you made plenty of meals for.

Everyone had been kind, so touched by the notion of you baking for them. The entire route had taken you longer than you expected, considering everyone had invited you in for coffee and a cookie.

Before the final stop, you dropped off the wagon at the house before you continued to the end of the street. It was much easier to carry a plate than lug the wagon around.

You hadn't met the new neighbor yet. From what you had gathered throughout the morning, he was a veteran and a father. All you knew was there was a single truck parked in the driveway, but you didn't think much of it.

With the plate of cookies in one hand, you knocked on the front door with the other. There was silence before you heard a cry.

Shit.

By the time the door opened, your expression was full of regret. You gave an apologetic smile to the man, who held a crying baby in his arms.

"Hi. I– I am so sorry for causing this commotion," you apologized. "Can I help?" You nodded to the baby; you were eager to right what you had wronged.

The man, obviously flustered and a bit agitated, looked from the cookie platter to you. He blinked as he looked your face over. Once he realized you were waiting for an answer, he nodded once.

"Here, may I?" You held the plate out to him, your other arm out to take the baby. There was a moment of hesitation before he handed his daughter over.

As soon as the baby was safely in your arms, you worked your magic. Within minutes, she stared at you wide eyed, a bit amazed at the faces you made. It had been something you tucked under your belt when looking after some of the other kids in the neighborhood. Worked like a charm every time.

You glanced up the man and chuckled. He looked just as amazed as the baby did, his eyes right on you. You told him your name and held out a hand.

"I'm sorry for waking her up," you apologized. "I brought by the cookies as a little Valentine's Day treat. Every year, I bake cookies and bring them to every house in the neighborhood."

"Frankie," he finally sputtered out after a beat. "That— that's real sweet. Seems everyone in the neighborhood is kind, from what I've witnessed." He looked to his daughter, who had slumped herself against you. She was already falling asleep again.

"They're good people," you assured him. "We try to help each other out. Be a shoulder to lean on." You glanced down at the weight on your shoulder. The baby was wiped herself out as you swayed in your spot.

"I can see that," Frankie chuckled. He tried to take her back, but she whined and buried her face in your sweater. You hushed her, rubbing her back to help her settle again.

"I'm sure she'll be ready to move in a minute," you assured him.

Frankie watched how easily you took to his daughter, the way you held her close without a second thought. It went against his better judgment, just handing the baby over without so much as an introduction.

Then again, Frankie wasn't always known for his best judgment.

"Would you like to come in? Please," he offered. He stepped to the side and opened the door wider for you.

Part of the offer was to make it easier to transition his daughter to her crib, and finally put her down for the morning nap she had been fighting. The other part of him wasn't ready for you to leave. He wanted to find any excuse he could to talk to you, even if it was something as dull as the weather.

"You don't mind?" You asked as you stepped through the doorway. While you had been in many of your neighbors' homes, this time felt different.

"Not at all."

This Frankie guy threw your mind for a loop. You didn't believe in love at first sight, but maybe you were wrong. Whether it was love, or a stint of infatuation, you didn't care. You didn't have anything to lose, which meant you had everything to gain.

[suratan-zir]

an extremely long and personal rant, you're not gonna gain anything by reading it, and if you do decide to read it in its entirety - I'm so sorry

I just need to vent, and this blog is the only place for me to do so. I can't tell the whole story, it's very long, messy, and personal. But long story short: there's a man who's been an unshakable influence on me for almost two decades. He shaped my life and molded me into the person I am today, one way or another. Oh, and he just so happens to be a covert narcissist - not like in those stupid dramatic tiktoks, but in a very real and infuriating way.

We said goodbye. We've been in no contact for over three years since I left the occupied territories. Since Savita's death, I haven't been doing all that well. I've been spiraling, quite frankly. Eventually, when everything else failed to help, I messaged him. Following a series of mostly dry and noncommittal replies, which always ended with "Write me more, I'll be waiting!" from him but contained no questions, no real engagement, no reactions to what I was saying at all - I said, "either drop this BS and start really communicating with me, or tell me straight to go fuck myself, but nothing in between, please."

So, finally, he tells me, "Look, I reach out first, I take the initiative. Let's talk about movies. What would you recommend for me to watch?" and recommends a movie himself. It's just a normal friendly conversation, right? No, the fuck it isn't. With people like this, everything is about control and power, about the opportunity to put you in your place.

Here I present to you our "normal" texting:

me: I watch mostly horrors. We have this tradition of watching a horror movie on the weekends, even though they never scare me. There's been a very recent one starring Hugh Grant - it's not so much a horror as it is a thriller, IMO. But I really enjoyed it. To understand some things better, you may need to know a little about the Mormon sect. But it's not necessary. (Now, dear reader, if you haven’t found anything offensive in my message, you didn’t look close enough, I guess.)

him: I am amazed by your arrogance - "you should know at least a little about the Mormon sect."

me: Why are you being like this? I only told you this because I myself didn’t know anything about the Mormons before the movie, except that it’s a cult in the US. I knew nothing about their rituals, beliefs, etc. This wasn’t directed at you. This wasn’t arrogance. I don’t even know if you watch horrors, but it was the first movie that came to mind because it was the best out of the recently watched.

him: This is such nonsense. Horror is for fear - that is, for teenagers. If there’s no need, then there will be no particular fear - why watch… to awaken old memories when this film still evoked the necessary emotions? As if there are no genres except horror and comedy. Noir, for example. Biopic. Historical. Melodramas. Art house, etc. Why limit yourself… aaaah, it’s to proudly say "I only watch horrors, but they don’t scare me."

me: No, not for that reason. This is my favorite genre because it's the easiest for me to watch and because we have this tradition—to watch horror movies on weekends. You (not only you, but also the film industry as a whole) have a very limited view of this genre. You don't watch it just to be scared. Just like any other movie, you watch it because it’s interesting. Because it evokes some emotions, it doesn’t necessarily have to be fear. Not all horror movies are jump scares and girls climbing out of TVs. I perceive them more as movies that should keep you in suspense, not as something that scares you. People have different tastes, what can you do?

him: A film that keeps you in suspense… I wonder why (fear, of course) comedies don't keep you in suspense, huh? And what else is there in horror? The realization of a child's need for a specific experience of fear. And this is not about tastes (taste is a personal preference). This is objective. And it's easier to watch because there is almost no plot.

me: Wow, you’ve only been watching bad horror movies in your life, then. You're not being objective at all now. You can't consider an entire genre, which is very broad, so narrowly. Heretic is formally classified as horror, but it's not about "fulfilling a child's need for a specific experience of fear." We're talking about different things. Often, horror elements are used as metaphors - not directly as horror. Not to make you afraid, but to make you think about something, to convey an idea in an unconventional way. Don't be so biased. No plot? You have to watch Hereditary or The Empty Man several times to notice everything you missed the first time because there are so many details, and the plot is so twisted.

him: A twisted plot does not speak of the quality of the film, but only of the quality of the mess in the director's head. The best films usually have a clear plot.

me: You could also say that comedies are for children because they like to laugh, and biographical films are for the elderly because they're interested in the past. You can basically say this about anything: Why watch comedies? Just to laugh? Why watch melodramas? Just to compensate for the lack of romance in your life? Why watch dramas? Just to feel sad? Etc. Only scientific and educational documentaries would remain because they have an "objective" benefit. Not everything is so one-sided, and a film has to be very bad to evoke only one emotion in you. Good films aren't arranged like that, and genres often overlap. As I said, many different films are formally classified in this category. The Lighthouse is also considered a horror film, but its goal isn't to scare you. There are psychological horror films, atmospheric ones, dramas, etc. If you follow this logic, then any strong emotion is a "childish need." Adults also cry during dramas and get anxious during thrillers. A movie is good if you don't regret watching it.

Him: Oversimplified, common man's view of genres - don't confuse like/dislike with good/bad.

me: Well, I’m a "commoner." That's my opinion. Who's to talk about arrogance… How does a simple conversation about cinema turn into an argument? Why do you have such a need to prove that I'm wrong about what I like instead of just sticking with your own? It’s strange. You can't prove that all films classified as this genre are bad. Simply because it's objectively impossible - they're too different. The genre is broad and often mixed with others. Maybe you're just sad that you don't watch films with anyone on Saturdays, with disgusting dry pizza and wine? When this is all over, we'll watch a good (good!) horror movie together, and you'll tell me all about how much you didn't like it :)

him: "You should know first…" is arrogance. And to claim that comedy is for the elderly is philistine segregation. I'm not saying that they're all bad. I'm saying that the plot is overly twisted because of the mess in their heads and to hide a weak script.

Me: What? I didn't claim that comedy is for the elderly. It was a deliberately absurd statement that directly mirrored yours. Of course I don't think so - it's stupid. That was the point. -----------------------------------------------------------------

If your head hurts and you're losing your sanity, I'm sorry. Imagine how mine felt. And it wasn't enough for me - oh no. We had a phone call later. Despite my desperate attempts to stop this idiotic argument, he was persistent. I watched the movie he recommended (didn't like it, but oh well), but he said he's not going to watch mine. Okay. Then he starts complaining that I didn't watch his suggested movie dubbed in russian. I explain that I don't watch anything dubbed—movies, TV shows, nothing. Haven't for over ten years now. You know what? He says that I'm MISSING A LOT by watching the ORIGINALS. That I can't possibly get everything there is to get when the movie isn't dubbed. I say that most of the things I watch are in English, and I understand everything. And if not, I watch them with English subs. "And what’s the original? Do you speak Ancient Greek? Do you know how little original English has in it?" WTF Still, he insists - you can't possibly get everything. I say that there are often puns and other untranslatable things, so by dubbing it, you have to write a brand new joke because the translation wouldn't work. Like, for example, "We're werewolves, not swearwolves" in What We Do in the Shadows. It was my favorite joke there, which would've been ruined by dubbing. "To understand puns," he says, "you have to know the language really well." Implying that I can't possibly know English that well.

Then he jumps back on the horror-hating train. I'm trying to explain that I don't actually watch movies that often. "Like, even this classic movie by Tarantino that everyone has seen, Pulp Fiction, my husband only recently talked me into watching it," - I add. "Pulp Fiction? But what's the movie title?" he asks. No, it is the movie title. "No, it's a genre. What's the title?" It is the title. I apologize, I say I'm sorry but I don't know what it's called in the russian adaptation. I describe the plot. "Ah, Криминальное Чтиво," he says. "Yes, that one," - I confirm. "There, Kate, there is your arrogance again."

My arrogance because I genuinely didn't know what it's called in russian. MY arrogance. I'm to blame if he didn't know something. I was supposed to predict he wouldn't know it and not embarrass him by mentioning such things. He has an English teacher diploma, among other things, by the way. The person trying to prove to me the stupidity of watching movies in the original language.

If you read this far - sorry. It's not about movies, languages, or anything else specific. It's nearly any conversation with him. That's how it's always been. The kind of person who would accuse you of everything they themselves possess and display. The kind of person you can't win an argument with because it's not about what you say. It's not about trying to hear each other. It's about power. About showing you that you're less than him. If I make a good argument, it'll be ignored or twisted. If I slip somewhere, I'll be ridiculed mercilessly. If I dare to complain about it, I'll be called overdramatic, overanalyzing, instigating. The only way is to stop playing his game. But I can't stop. I'm stuck in a fucking loop of thinking, "This time I'll be smarter, calmer, more mature, and everything will be different."

[call-me-copycat]

I flipped through it but haven't actually read it yet and it's uh... Ah, a little more suggestive than the first (*///ω///*)

Like clearly they were told to keep it light and fluffy but some of the authors (particularly those that wrote Iida's and Bakugo's) really pushed it as far as they were allowed ‎(´-ᴗ-⸝⸝ก)

Bakugo's

Iida's (they reallyyyy pushed it, might've gotten scolded actually)

On the opposite end of the spectrum, Todoroki and Shinso had the fluffiest chapters (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

Denki's author just had fun with it lol

The author who wrote that Dabi chapter everyone liked! They went all out on Shigaraki's \(❁´∀`❁)ﾉ𖤐´-

Boring chapter for a boring man

(Just kidding, love you Aizawa (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ )

The author of the next chapter gave us this if that means anything (oﾟvﾟ)

Eraser Bakugo! I love the art style (*^▽^*)

All Might's chapter was very interesting because it was the least focused on romance and instead looked like it had its own mini plot going on! O.O

2 references in one!

First one (the rabbit in a dotted scarf) is a reference to Horikoshi's old work, Oumagadoki Zoo!

The second one... is a very odd chapter from the MHA spinoff SMASH! A series that I've brought up a couple times (⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

MHA SMASH! is sort of like that family member no one mentions or brings up, it's a comedy (so the only non canon) spinoff, and while it certainly funny at times the author tends to go a little too overboard with his crude jokes and dirty humor (such as below) (⁠ꏿ⁠﹏⁠ꏿ⁠;⁠)

I was never going to mention this chapter but I might as well now since they decided to reference it (^^;)

In the chapter, the LOV members have just met each other, and Kurogiri innocently brings up the topic of ice breakers.

They draw straws, and the winner would be allowed to command the others to do fun things. Shigaraki wins, and commands the others to die. Kurogiri says no and moves on to the second winner, Toga. She tells Shigaraki to put on bunny ears, and Dabi to put on cat ears, and for some reason... everyone else put poor Kurogiri's outfit together. The whole thing is much much worse in full O_o

(These 2 below are from MHA SMASH! And the picture below this is the doujinshi)

(sorry.)

Why'd they have to reference this chapter out of all the chapters in this spinoff? (＞︿＜)

I guess that's the overall theme of this novel since this is the last lovely artwork made:

Overall the art looks great! I guess a few of the authors really wanted to push the boundaries of what was and wasn't allowed and this came out (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）

I'm glad we still have the cute fluffy chapters though ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The characters in this novel are all the exact same, except instead of Dabi he's replaced with Shigaraki ʕ￫ᴥ￩ʔ Let me know once more if there's a specific character's chapter you want translated! I have a que going on right now so it'll take some time to get to it, but I can always add it on my list ♪⁠～⁠(⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

I can't talk right now since I'm at work but look! The second MHA x reader doujinshi came early! (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Can't wait to share this too!

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

A Travis Martinez Deep Dive/Character Analysis

Let’s talk about one of the most (if not the most) controversial characters in Yellowjackets! I definitely feel like many of Travis’ scenes and actions are misunderstood, so let’s dive in to his character and understand why he does what he does.

General Information

Travis Martinez is portrayed by Kevin Alves. He is described as being 16 years-old in the first drafts of the scripts, although it is unclear if he is still 16 in the final product or if he was aged up to 17 like the rest of the main cast in the teen timeline. His introduction in the script describes him as “lanky, sullen, teetering on the awkward, hormonal edge of impending hotness, a sensitive kid doing his absolute damndest to pretend he doesn’t care about anything.”

Travis attends Wiskayok High School in the (fictional) town of Wiskayok, New Jersey. His family consists of his father, Bill Martinez (who is the head coach of the Yellowjackets girls soccer team at WHS), his mother, and his little brother, Javi.

Relationship With His Family

We get a very brief glimpse into Travis’ home life before the crash in the Pilot episode, but it does give us a few hints of the conflicts present in his family. We see that Travis’ parents seem to have a distant relationship, with Travis’ father attempting to give his mother a kiss goodbye and her initially being resistant to it, but giving in only when she sees Travis watching. Travis rolls his eyes at this interaction, telling us it’s a common occurrence. Maybe it’s just me, but I’m definitely getting the sense that Coach Martinez has had some extramarital affairs and that Travis’ parents are only still married for the sake of keeping the family together.

Travis confesses to Nat that Coach Martinez was “a shit dad” and that he “didn’t even like” Travis. I think, at least in Travis’ mind, he has never been good enough to measure up to his father’s expectations. We get to see a brief sample of what Coach Martinez's parenting style may have been like in his scene with Jackie, in which his version of a "pep talk" is telling Jackie all of the ways in which the other girls on the team are better than her. I have a feeling Travis' dad often took the same approach with Travis; a gruff, "tough-love" demeanor that only resulted in a deep sense of inadequacy.

This dynamic has affected Travis' relationship with Javi, as well. My interpretation of their relationship is that, while Travis does deeply love and care for Javi, he also harbors some resentment towards him for receiving more softness and support from their father. This resentment only grows when the plane crashes and Travis is left completely responsible for Javi. He's feeling the pressure of having to be an example of masculinity for Javi and his new role as a father figure for Javi, all while dealing with the grief of his father's death. He's overwhelmed and afraid, and therefore he takes this out on Javi, which we can see particularly in the scene where he makes Javi spit out the gum their father gave him.

Travis is likely replicating the harsh parenting style of their father with Javi; it's all he knows. But, underneath, Travis loves Javi; enough to put himself through the trauma of digging up his father's corpse to get a ring for him and to trek through miles of snow in sub zero temperatures for months looking for him after he runs away.

This is why it is so, so heartbreaking when Travis loses Javi just as he's learning to show how much he loves him. My heart breaks at the thought that Travis will have to come back home and tell his mother that his father and little brother are dead.

Toxic Masculinity

It’s no secret that Travis is deeply, deeply insecure. And, as is the case with many young men, this insecurity manifests itself through sexism, unhealthy stoicism, hostility, and anger. It is important to remember that Travis is a teenager in the 90s, a time in which the sexualization of women in media was rampant. The Third Wave of feminism was underway, and with it came an increase of misogyny and backlash from men. Sexist jokes and comments were the norm, and Travis was likely surrounded by them in high school. As a result, we hear him call the girls "idiots," we hear him compare them to girls in porn magazines, we hear him tell Nat she should stick to "folding laundry" and "sucking ___" (we all know how that sentence was going to end). There's no true excuse for it, it's abhorrent behavior and it's unacceptable no matter what time period this is.

However, if we look into Travis' past, we can definitely find an explanation. Much of Travis' behavior can be drawn back to his insecurity and feeling that he is not good enough. We know he was bullied throughout high school as a result of Bobby Farleigh's "Flex" comment and we know that he feels like his father never really liked him; that he never felt good enough for him. Another aspect of Travis' insecurity can also be linked back to the idea of masculinity that has been fed to him by society: the strong, macho, stoic ideal. And it's clear (especially in Season 2) that Travis just does not fit this ideal. He's soft and sensitive, and because this goes directly against what he thinks he should be, he feels shame and embarrassment in himself.

And what do men do when they feel shame, insecurity, and/or sadness? They lash out. Men aren't allowed to show vulnerability, so they instead replace it with a more acceptable emotion: anger. And we definitely see this in the way that Travis lashes out at the people around him. And to make matters worse, Travis is one of the only men out there in the wilderness, making him feel even more pressure to be the strong masculine figure society expects him to be.

Reaction to Trauma

The pressure Travis feels to be "manly" bleeds into his response to trauma, as well. Travis has just watched his father die in a brutal and gruesome manner right before his eyes, and now he's out in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of teenage girls and a little brother to take care of. Most people would break down and cry.

Travis, on the other hand, is strangely apathetic. His only expression of emotion is anger. He snaps at Nat when she suggests that he help his brother, he yells at Javi and forces him to spit out the gum that is his only connection left to his father, he steals food from the others and blatantly insults them, and he essentially tells Javi to "get over it." Travis' coping mechanisms are clear: he distracts his grief with anger and he pushes away anyone that could possibly offer him support.

We see this again with another very significant trauma Travis endures: his sexual assault the night of Doomcoming. Travis is sexually assaulted by an entire group of girls, he clearly begs for them to stop (and they don't), and then he runs for his life and is almost killed. No one ever acknowledges this trauma and the next morning Travis is back to his usual ways, snapping at Natalie when she tries to emotionally support him and attempting to hurt her feelings to get her to stay away from him.

But it's clear, in both of these instances, that, underneath, Travis does care, and he is hurting. Despite him yelling at Javi, he wants to get his father's ring to make it up to him and support him. And when Nat doesn't budge and insists on helping him, Travis breaks down sobbing and admits that he "didn't want to" and that he is in love with her. (And in the script he even says that he wishes that Shauna had killed him that night, that's how strong his pain and shame are after Doomcoming!) Travis' hostile and abrasive behaviors are really a front he puts on to avoid being vulnerable, letting people in, and admitting to himself that he's struggling.

Relationship with Nat

Given Travis' tendency to push people away and hide his vulnerability, it’s not surprising that he forms a romantic connection with someone who mirrors his response to trauma: Natalie.

Their relationship starts off on shaky ground, marked by Travis' initial misogynistic remarks and even an incident where he points a loaded gun at Natalie. Despite this, Natalie is the only person who seems able to see through Travis' anger. Her own experiences with trauma—particularly the loss of her father—give her a deep understanding of what Travis is going through. Like him, she has developed a habit of distancing herself from others, driven by the pain of watching her father die and the lingering guilt of feeling responsible for his death.

This shared trauma—witnessing their fathers’ deaths and carrying the weight of guilt—creates the foundation of their connection. One pivotal moment that cements this bond is the scene where Natalie makes her first kill. Kevin Alves has explained that when Natalie and Travis kneel beside the dying deer and exchange a knowing look, it symbolizes the shared grief they both carry. In this moment, they are not just mourning the animal but, more profoundly, mourning their fathers together.

This scene serves as the emotional cornerstone of their relationship, which stretches over the next 25 years. Both Natalie and Travis are driven by guilt, shame, and self-loathing, and they both struggle with showing vulnerability. They have a pattern of pushing people away before anyone can get too close—a tragic cycle that defines their bond. They are trauma bonded and similar in all of the worst ways, which is what makes them so codependent and enmeshed, as they believe that no one else will ever understand them the way they understand each other.

Of course, Travis’ insecurity finds its way into his relationship with Nat, too. When Nat and Travis discuss having sex for the first time, Travis infamously asks Nat how many guys she has slept with. Nat immediately bristles, thinking that Travis is implying that she’s a “slut”, but, as the scene unfolds, we realize that Travis is actually just insecure about his own virginity in comparison with Nat’s sexual experience. He’s worried that, because of Jackie’s previous comments about Nat, sex with him won’t mean anything to Nat, whereas it would mean a lot to Travis. We can see how much relief he feels when Nat assures him that it does mean something to her, and “especially with him"; when she affirms he is good enough.

Travis’ tendency to get in his own head unfortunately makes itself known again when they actually attempt to sleep together; when Travis can’t get it up and runs out of the room. I think the script for this scene reveals a lot about what is actually going on in Travis’ head:

Travis’ feelings of inadequacy are spiraling here. He’s in awe of Nat and doesn’t feel good enough, and the pressure he’s putting on himself as a result is too much for him (and other parts of him…) to handle. As time passes in the wilderness and Travis lets go of some of his insecurity, we can see he becomes more communicative and releases some of his ego and insecurity as he discovers his spirituality (which we'll get into more in the next section).

Travis's love for Natalie is undeniable, but their relationship is inevitably toxic due to their shared trauma and self-destructive behaviors. After the crash, both turned to drug addiction as a way to numb their pain. Though they’ve tried to help each other stay clean over the years, their connection often pulls them back into destructive patterns. Every time Travis seems to be on the path to recovery, Natalie reappears, and she drags him back down with her again.

Javi’s death will create a huge, irreparable rift between them. It’s likely that Travis harbors deep resentment toward Natalie, not only for surviving when Javi didn’t but also for being a constant reminder of his lost brother. Yet, paradoxically, she is all he has left, and the thought of losing her, too, is unbearable. Despite their genuine love and care for each other, their relationship is fundamentally harmful.

Spirituality, Relationship with “The Wilderness,” and Development of a More Feminine Sense of Self

Season 2 marks a major shift in Travis’ character, and much of this is due to his newfound connection to Lottie. Travis’ desperation to find Javi makes him crave a sense of hope, and therefore makes him open to the idea of The Wilderness. Travis begins attending Lottie’s rituals, and expresses gratefulness towards her for the blood tea and reassurance that Javi is alive. As Travis becomes increasingly attached to Lottie and The Wilderness, we also see him become kinder, softer, and more vulnerable. Travis’ connection to The Wilderness allows him to release the societal norms and expectations that previously guided his toxic behaviors. He can let go of society’s idea of manhood and become a more authentic version of himself. We see that Travis has started to let himself show weakness, express emotion, and is much more open-minded and willing to consider other perspectives.

Lottie definitely becomes an important person to Travis in Season 2. I want to make something clear right now because I feel like it it very often misinterpreted. The writers have stated that Travis’ connection with Lottie is not meant to be interpreted as sexual in nature. Rather, Travis’ scenes with Lottie are meant to represent his spiritual connection with her and his need for guidance. The infamous sex scene between Natalie and Travis in which Travis has visions of Lottie present in the room is not Travis wishing Lottie was in Nat’s place, rather it is meant to represent the internal battle Travis is experiencing between his romantic love for Nat and his need for hope and spiritual belief. Lottie is being shown as a spiritual, religious figure in this scene. She’s not depicted in a sexual manner in Travis’ visions, but rather in a nurturing, holy light.

Nat and Lottie are directly opposed in this Season, with Nat representing pragmatism and Lottie representing faith. Travis is caught in the middle with his romantic connection to Nat and his faith in Lottie. While Nat tells him his brother is dead, Lottie tells him she knows he’s alive. Travis loves Nat, but it’s clear their differences in faith are creating a rift between them, and this rift is symbolized visually in their sex scene.

While Travis’ turn towards faith and spirituality does bring out a better, more likable side of him, it does, unfortunately, directly lead to his death in the adult timeline. While we likely won't get to see any more of Travis' story in the adult timeline, I am looking forward to seeing how he continues to develop in the wilderness and how his newfound spirituality and increasing disconnection with society will change him as a person.

Overall, while Travis can certainly be a deeply dislikable character at times, his development over the past two seasons has been fascinating to watch and he definitely has some hidden complexities that are starting to reveal themselves to the audience. Here's to Travis continuing to connect to his feminine side in Season 3!

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[jerswayman]

LOVE THY GOALIE. GIVE THY GOOD BOY HEAD PATS.

[kj-beastboy]

Pregnancy as a kink makes me uncomfortable so man am I glad your pregg Flug stuff is explicitly not kink oriented!

yeah I... don't wanna judge anyone... but it's more than that, it's downright terrifying to me. Blame my hormones bc I'm expecting irl but wow... I'm very sensitive and it feels dehumanizing. but ig that is kinda the point of the kink(?)

it's so common in fandoms!

I'm completely vanilla anyway tho, so not surprising.

I've tried to pretend for a super long time that I'm into kink, but most of them are off putting and I consider them intrusive thoughts, not fantasies. I'm kinda fluctuating between sex-repulsed and neutral (aroace) even fictional... ig kink just isn't for me. I tried so hard to get over it. I know some people in my asks/requests are gonna be disappointed but I'm sorry💔

I'm slightly ashamed of how boring I am and I have serious trouble connecting to anyone in fandoms due to this actually🤕 feel like the most NT autistic person ever.

anyway here's a doodle!

[bird-inacage]

The Heart Killers Trailer | KANT

That's all. Just First motherfucking Kanaphan looking DELICIOUS.