#this idea has been in my mind for a while.....
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endursent · 3 days ago
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My Partner Turned Into A Cat And I Don't Know How To Fix It (4)
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【 content; established relationship , fluff , humour , slight shenanigans , gn!reader 】
【 characters; alhaitham , arataki itto , baizhu , cyno , dainsleif , diluc , kaedehara kazuha , kaeya , kamisato ayato , kaveh , neuvillette , tartaglia , thoma , venti , wanderer , wriothesley , xiao , zhongli 】
【 premise; " You have been struck with a curse of some sort which has turned you into a cat, your partner has no idea how to fix it nor how long it might take. Yet he also cannot help but be rather amused by the situation despite the uncertainty…" 】
【 note; im sorry. this is so long... lol. 】
【 word count; 11.150 | read on ao3 | hsr reader ver | gi his ver | hsr his ver 】
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Alhaitham;
He usually wouldn’t allow pets in the house… not because he dislikes them—Alhaitham simply wouldn’t want to have to clean up the hairs that fall off you after moving between every spot you lie down in. 
  Nevertheless… here he is, with a brush in hand as he tries to get it out of the sheets. You sit next to him apologetically (getting more hairs into the same sheet where you’re currently sitting, of course) and watch as he scoops it into a small bag. Alhaitham sets the bag aside and picks you up easily with one hand, his large palm lifting under your tummy and plopping you back down on his lap as he turns back to brushing your hairs away. 
  Feeling eyes on himself, Alhaitham looks down to see your large, round cat-eyes looking up at him, tail swaying. 
  He put you in his lap—doesn’t that mean it’s petting time?
 Where’s your damn attention?
  Slightly exasperated, Alhaitham tries to multitask and pet you while he's scooping your hair—but more keeps tossing around with every upstroke of your thick fur… why did you have to turn into a hairball? Couldn’t you have been a hairless cat? He’s almost tempted to just put you in the bag. 
  He’s a respectable “pet owner”, but does lack in one aspect that’s quite important to you, at least… perhaps not all cats
  No kisses?? 
  You’d at least like some on your head—he doesn’t have to kiss your nose or anything. Though you shouldn’t be surprised, Alhaitham isn’t very forthcoming with his affections and most of your casual kisses are by your initiation and his response to it.
  So now you have to effectively smush your furry little head into his face to communicate that you want kisses. 
  It takes him a few tries to understand what you need, but thankfully he got it rather easily, smart lad. 
  Kaveh sometimes catnaps (kidnaps) you for… cat naps. He says it’s nicer than hugging his own pillow—and you don’t particularly mind, but Alhaitham does. Once he can’t find you after a general sweep of the house he figures Kaveh took you again and like a seasoned thief, swaps you out with a pillow while the architect is asleep. 
  “Hmph… he should get his own cat,” Alhaitham says to himself after shutting the door quietly, holding you like a baby in his arms, your paws in the air. He looks down, grey hair tilting over his eyes as he smiles only slightly. “What? You are my cat. Perhaps I should call you kitty from now on, even after you’ve changed back.”
  You tried to climb onto the back of the chain in the study when Alhaitham was doing some studies once, but quicker than you could react—even with these new cat reflexes—he grabs you by the scruff of your neck and hoists you off. “You’re scratching the furniture,” he moves you from the back of the chair and plops you down on his lap. “Do refrain from doing that.”
  Hmph. You wanted to bite his hair a bit… it smells nice. But fine. Lap it is, you can settle for that.
  It takes you about two and a half minutes not to be satisfied with that, and lounge over his book instead, hoping he’ll stop and pay attention to you instead. You have a feeling he would do the same if he were in your position. 
  Alhaitham seems annoyed for a few seconds, but he only needs to stare into your big, cute cat-eyes for a few seconds to fold. What can he do? It doesn’t take much for you already to rope him into whatever shenanigans the day brings, and especially not like this.
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Arataki Itto;
You just wanted a nice, cool nap. 
  It’s hot as balls in Inazuma, and you found an excellent spot under a slanted roof. You got comfortable and were half asleep already when you’re suddenly dragged off the crate and raised in the air like a divine heir. 
  Flailing in protest, your screaming of; “PUT ME DOWN YOU OAF” isn’t translated very well into frantic meows and hisses. 
  And of course, Itto has no idea what you’re trying to communicate—in fact, he thinks you’re just a bit surprised yet happy to see him. He sets you on his shoulder and you hold on for dear life. He’s broad, but broad muscles are also rather round and his outfit isn’t easy to grab onto—you just thank feline evolution that you have good balance and can hold yourself somewhat steady. 
  He sometimes just parades you around on his head like a strange hat, he doesn’t even seem to mind the death grip you have on his scalp. 
  Best naps, laying out in the grass on a warm summer’s day as the bright rays of the sun shine down on you. It’s comfortably warm, your fur keeps you cool enough that you don’t get lightheaded—despite popular belief, Itto is not a snorer, but he is a hugger. 
  You’re caged against his broad chest and there’s little escape or ways to wake him without scratching, biting or wailing like you’re trapped under a boulder. 
  Itto is a seasoned pet owner, he has multiple beetles that he takes good care of and thus he’s surprisingly adept at handling you. He doesn’t toss you around (except to put you on his shoulders or head) and doesn’t lock you out of the house or forget to feed you. In fact, you’d say he’s a top-notch owner, though you might be slightly biased. 
  The summer days are warm in Inazuma, and sometimes one just needs to do something to keep their mind off of the heat. Even with your coat protecting you from most of it, even you are starting to get dazed by the sharp, overbearing heat of the sun. And Itto is also very good at filling empty time. 
  He takes you out to the beach, though it wasn’t the best idea—he thought it was genius, the ocean is cool enough, there are not many around on the eastern beaches because of the awkward positioning and further distance from the city… but he didn’t take it into account that you absolutely refuse to get in the water, and there’s no shade. So that idea gets abandoned quickly. 
  For some reason he loves to touch your nose; poke it, kiss it, rub it… anything. And every time he does, you have to wet it again—it almost becomes a funny game to him to touch your nose and watch as your tongue darts out to wet it again. 
  Being unable to communicate with you isn’t a problem, he’s a yapper and can talk enough for the two of you. You try to meow along in response to show that you’re listening, but even if there was no brain behind your eyes, he’d still talk your ears off. 
  He creates a makeshift cat-bed for you out of some blankets and cushions, Itto was rather proud of himself for the craft that went into making it as soft as it is…
  It still always ends up with you on his chest or legs at the end of the night. Without exception.
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Baizhu;
He really scratches his head over this situation, how did this happen to you? You had gone out to deliver some medicine to those who aren’t well enough or mobile to come fetch it themselves, and had stayed out far longer than usual—Baizhu had started to worry and nearly had gone to look for you… when a cat with your eyes and mannerisms stumbles into the pharmacy meowing up a storm trying to explain itself. 
  Distressed, confused and much smaller than you’re used to being, Baizhu quickly scoops you up into his arms to calm you down. “Do not worry, I recognise you,” he assures—he feels a little silly saying this to a cat, and has a twinge in the back of his mind that he might be wrong. But the way you’re waving your paw is strangely… human, though muddled by the restrictions of your cat-joints. 
  Changsheng however, finds this HILARIOUS. She unwinds a bit from Baizhu’s shoulders and nearly bumps snouts with you as she wonders whether you were even fully aware of yourself, and after some arguing—in the form of loud yowling and meowing—they concluded that yes, your mind is well. 
  Baizhu tries everything he can think of, but he’s never really encountered a situation like this before and he has to use a lot of his attention to theory-crafting and tests. 
  The only thing that made a difference, was that one concoction he crafted made your ears twice larger… but it didn’t change you back. So now you just have unnaturally large ears for a cat. 
  He smiles sheepishly as he examines you to make sure nothing else is affected. “Ah… apologies, my dear. I don’t mean to laugh… but the ears,” he tries his best not to smile too widely, or give a soft laugh. But it’s difficult, you look so disproportionate it’s just adorable.
  Despite your grievance over your proportions, Baizhu can’t help but rub your ears and scratch behind them. He gives you some good treats as an apology. You reluctantly accept. 
  Unfortunately, Baizhu has a job to do and can’t just close the pharmacy off from his assistance to tend to you. He multitasks as much as he can, but there are scheduled appointments to be present for.
  But he has a good idea of how to utilise you, after all, you’re the usual deliverer—customers likely won’t mind if you’re cat-sized.
  Thus, he gets some help from contacts and a day later you have a fancy harness with a delivery box on your back. Baizhu sets some medicine in it and fastens it properly so it won’t slip off and you don’t feel too constrained… and sets you on your way. 
  You were getting bored lounging around in the pharmacy anyway, so you revel in getting to stretch your legs a bit. You make the deliveries in record time, able to get through tiny crevices you weren’t able to before and hope through shortcuts you didn’t even know about.
  As you return to the pharmacy after the final run, Baizhu smiles and kneels down in front of you, removing the harness and scratching where the lines of it had pressed against your fur. The nice feeling of being pet brings a rumbling purr from your chest and your tail sways happily as he gives you some water to drink and attention. 
  “Good work today,” he strokes between your large ears and rubs his thumb on your cheek. “It’s almost time to close up, let’s go upstairs and continue trying to figure out how to turn you back.”
  The soft ambient light of the room and the sound of Baizhu’s brush stroking against the paper of a scroll makes you much more tired than you expected. You lay curled up on the desk against the wall where he sits and writes formulas and theories, Changsheng slithers up next to you and bundles herself on your back—it’s not particularly comfortable, but you’re too lazy to move, and it’s kind of cute. 
  Baizhu hums to himself and looks at you, his gaze lingers for only a short time before returning to the scroll in front of him.
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Cyno;
He stares at the cat in Tighnari’s hands, his eyes look up to the man holding you and then back down. “What.”
  The ranger deadpans and plops you into his arms. “I’ve been scouring the library for days while you were in the desert, I don’t know what happened, but it’s just how they are right now.”
  Cyno lifts you up by holding your torso under your front legs, he peers at your face as you dangle like an idiot but have no way to really wriggle away. “Blink twice if it’s really you.”
  You blink twice.
  “Huh,” he just makes a sound of affirmation, then tucks you under his arm. “Thank you, I’ll take it from here.”
  Tighnari stares at him, unimpressed by his lack of reaction to the fact that his partner is currently a small, furry cat. “You're not going to ask where I found them, how I know it’s them or how my progress is going when it comes to turning them back?”
  Cyno is silent for a beat before he speaks again. “I know it’s them, I know their eyes.”
  Somehow, the duty of getting you back to normal remained on Tighnari’s back, and Cyno sets you down on the dining table in your shared home. He folds his arms over his chest and analyses you, it’s a little awkward—you’re not sure why he’s staring so intensely at you. 
  “This is… quite the cat-astrophe—”
  Oh no. 
  You have no way to stop him, and though you usually let him get it out of his system once he feels the need… you could also stop him once it gets out of hand. In this form, you’re effectively defenceless and unable to protest in any meaningful ways. 
  Thankfully, he does stop after you dive under your bed and hide for ten minutes in hopes he won’t drag you back and perform stand-up for you for the rest of the night. 
  Once Cyno is assured this strange transformation isn’t dangerous nor necessarily permanent, he’s rather laid back about it. He finds it quite funny (evidently) and there’s no way around it, you’re cute like this. Not that he didn’t consider you cute before, but it’s especially unavoidable now. 
  There’s no real way to stop him from making jokes or puns about this situation, it’s in his soul—and though you wouldn’t trade his soul for the world, you get moments of temptation when his brain hyperfocuses on one thing to centre his jokes around. 
  They get a bit tired.
  You follow him around everywhere, it’s not like you’ve got better places to be. He thinks it’s rather adorable to see you trotting around at his heels as he walks through the city, though he tells you to remain home when he has work to do—it can turn dangerous sometimes, depending on the day, and he recognises that your body is smaller and more fragile than it used to be. 
  He does always come back right away, he wraps up any follow-ups and paperwork as quickly as he can—if only for the moments of arrival. Of opening the front door and being greeted by you sitting at the entrance of your home, staring up at him with a swaying tail. Waiting excitedly. 
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 Dainsleif;
You’ve never seen this expression on his face, in the moments after you touched a strange-looking artefact, there’s a poof—and your body shifts to that of a small cat. It wasn’t painful, nor do you feel as if you were cursed in any way. 
  “... meow?” 
  Dainsleif stares at you, lips parted slightly, he’s positioned with one foot forward as he had been in the process of rushing towards you to hopefully stop you from touching what you shouldn’t… but he was a tad late. 
  He straightens and takes a breath. Okay… from one mystery to another. 
  He approaches you and picks you up—a bit awkwardly, as if he doesn’t know how to hold a cat—and you’re too confused and disoriented as to what just happened to process you being turned back towards the round artefact. Dainsleif takes your front right paw and makes you touch the artefact again.
  Nothing. No glow, no poofing. 
  There goes his only idea. 
  The following days were confusing and mildly frustrating. It’s been a while since Dainsleif traveled alone, and though he isn’t technically alone—you’re still there, it doesn’t feel the same. He’s quite struck with the confrontation that he’s become very accustomed to your presence and how much he’s come to rely on it. 
  He’s a bit quiet and distant from you for a few days, while it makes you sad—if anything, you should be the one who needs comforting—you do try to slowly approach, you know that he can run the danger of isolation. 
  After starting a flame one evening in the alcove of a cave beneath a bright starry sky, Dainsleif sits down to rest for the night. You walk over with slow steps, careful and quiet, before sitting down next to him. 
  Far enough that you’re not touching, not even your tail… but close enough to be present. 
  His eyes slide towards you, and his head follows. “... what is it?”
  “Meow.”
  His eyelids squint, unsure what to make of your reply. Your answers always make sense to him… but what can he decipher from your feline face? The only familiar part of you is your eyes, shining under the light from the flames. “I see.”
  You doubt he deciphered any meaning from your meows, but he’s engaging with you now. Progress. 
  Trying your luck, you move closer. He stays as he is, watching you closely.
  You move closer yet, your tail touches his coat. 
  Dainsleif sighs. 
  You stop. 
  He can’t particularly feel your presence, not yours—but there is a presence next to him. It is yours, despite the fact he can’t sense it… and perhaps one day, were he to outlive you as if likely, he will have to find your presence in something you’re not. 
  And though you are this weird-looking cat, somewhere between a sentient human being and a feline animal, you’re still you. 
  The same, those same eyes, the very same gaze and mind. 
  He reaches out and sets his palm onto your furry head. Dainsleif pets your head slowly, and you nuzzle into his hand. You sit in silence before the swaying flames.
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Diluc;
He can’t help but think that you might’ve done this on purpose. 
  Diluc has been very busy the last weeks he’s been coming back home to the winery late, leaving early—getting up in the middle of the night and waking you up when he goes out for his Darknight hero duties—and though you rescheduled it for next week, missed a dinner in the city that had been booked in advance. 
  He does feel bad, Diluc wants to spend all the time he can with you, all his free time and more—but with the winter months drifting by, business in the winery booms as people stock up on wine for the holidays. Businesses buy in bulk for holiday menu changes, and such. 
  And now, after hurrying back home when he was contacted that “something had happened” to you… he’s standing in front of a cat. 
  He thought you might’ve been hurt, or sick—he had run so fast his hair was loosening from his usual tail. 
  And while you’re not hurt or sick, you are… different. Something definitely happened. 
  He sits down and you climb onto his lap, sitting down and pawing at his chest, small meows leaving your small mouth. Diluc strokes your back and ruffles your fur with both hands. “How did this happen?” he knows you can’t answer him, but he can’t help but ask anyway. 
  You rise up on your hind legs, front paws on his chest as you lick and wet his cheeks. Diluc’s eyes close and his face scrunches up. “H-hey, stop that,” he puts his hands around your torso and holds you away from his face, your little tongue bleping down out of your mouth. 
  A smile tugs on his lips at the cute expression. 
  He still has to attend to his job, but while he usually handles most things himself, Diluc does accept help from his staff now that you’re… like this. So now he has more time for you, which isn’t exactly how he intended to spend that free time—searching for ways to turn you back, and having you loafing on his lap and being unable to stand up and fetch his coffee. 
  He’s not going to move while you’re so comfortable… he wouldn’t do that even if you weren’t a cat. 
  Not the biggest fan of the hair you leave around you, he needs to wipe his clothes thoroughly after you’ve so much as looked in his direction.
  You get so much attention around the winery it’s not even funny, every employee pets you, gives you treats and treat you like you’re more of a royal cat than just a normal person turned into one. 
  Diluc came home one evening to see you loafing on the sofa, a shiny bow tied around your neck and a bowl of treats next to you… in reach for whenever you wanted it. 
  He had a conversation with the staff about making sure you don’t eat so much that your stomach will hurt… and that maybe not make you get too comfortable like this, he wants to turn you back to normal after all. 
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Kaedehara Kazhua; 
He thinks it’s adorable, Kazuha is a rather laid-back person overall, and he’s certain you’ll be okay—so why not have fun while you’re like this? 
  It started all fun and games when on land, Inazuma is filled to the brim with foods that cats would love, every shop has some form of fish or vegetables that Kazuha can share with you…
  But as soon as you go out on the open ocean, it’s over. 
  Kazuha has never seen you so violently unhappy on the ship, every rock of it makes you yowl and dig your claws into whatever you’re standing on, be it a crate, table, bed or Kazuha’s clothes (you ruined two pants, but he doesn’t particularly mind). 
  You have an irrational (or very rational) fear that you might be tossed off the ship and into the ocean at the slightest dip of the deck. Kazuha does his best to calm you and comfort you, he even offers to make a harness and leash for you so that he can yoink you back if you happen to fall overboard. 
  You don’t find his idea as funny as Beidou does.
  Thankfully, you don’t get tossed overboard you don’t spontaneously die or have any other terrible event happen to you—and you’re so thankful to touch land that you hop off the side of the ship and to the harbour the ship docked by before it can even properly be tied down by the dockworkers. 
  Kazuha leans over the railing of the ship and calls your name, a bit worried—he hopes you don’t get lost before he can catch up to you. 
  It takes a while for the ship to dock and open up for people to leave, Kazuha convinces another person on the ship to take his duties for a while as he rushes out to find you. He’s not worried you might get yourself in trouble—you’re rather good at keeping out of it, but he doesn’t want you to get lost or have to spend all day looking for you.
  Even though that’s kind of what he’s starting to do right now…
  Kazuha shoulders past the crowd in the busy markets of Port Ormos, it’s early noon and it’s starting to fill up. The Crux has stocked up here often before and thus the both of you are quite familiar with it, but the winding streets and large crowds filling the markets can make it disorienting for even seasoned visitors. 
  After looking around for longer than he cared for, Kazuha finally spots your tail disappearing behind a corner.
  Kazuha picks up his pace and somehow manages to catch up to you, perhaps the soft breeze is on his side, as he swoops up next to you and scoops you up into his arms.
  He smiles, ducking out of the crowds and into a small alley where some crates are stored for the market stalls. “No need to run away, you’re safe on land now,” he holds you like a baby, your paws in the air as his arm holds your back steadily. “Though you are also very safe on the ship, I won’t let you fall overboard.”
  You meow gently, Kazuha isn’t sure if you’re thanking him or expressing concerns… but the way you look up at him in this position is pretty cute. “Let’s find some good food, hm?”
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Kaeya;
Funniest shit he’s seen all year. 
  Kaeya tries not to look like he’s very happy this happened—so long as he knows it’s not dangerous or permanent—or that watching you lick yourself to clean your fur isn’t very amusing. 
  He brings you everywhere, lets you follow him around and even holds you and lets passersby pet you…
  Kaeya is just straight-up treating you like a real cat.
  At this realisation, that he was acting like you were a pet, and not his very real (though cat-like for now) partner and previous human… you got angry! you wriggled in his grasp, surprising him and causing Kaeya to almost drop you—he righted his hold and blinked at you with a confused expression. “What is it? Did I hold you wrong?”
  A series of angry meows and swats of your paw later, Kaeya was none the wiser. 
  He tried to bait you to “forgive” him with some nicely cut fish… and it kind of worked, that was some good fish. 
  Kaeya sits by the table you’re on as you gobble down the fish he bought you, he leans on his fist with a smile and watches as you lick your muzzle after getting fishy-oil on it and shake yourself when you accidentally dip your whiskers into the water next to the plate. 
  The sun almost makes it seem like your fur shines and sparkles under it and as you sit down, belly full and satisfied, Kaeya reaches out and scratches behind your ears. “Did you take behavioural classes before this? To behave like a real cat? You’re really nailing it.”
  You make a huffed sound, but reach your head further into his hand. 
  He tries to get you to play with toys, he buys a stick with a bundle of feathers on the end in hopes that you’ll chase it when he dangles it in front of you… but when he sat down with you on the floor of your shared home and dangled it in front of you…
  You stared at him as if he had just grown three additional heads.
  Kaeya pouts, he wriggles it a bit—and though you follow it around with your head, you still sit where you are and don’t move.
  Not until he lowered the toy and the feathered end touched the floor.
  You pounced onto it.
  Kaeya pauses, blinking at you in surprise. You look up like you got caught with your hand in a cookie jar. 
  And then he just laughs, he wriggles the toy again and you swat at it in frustration for making you leap at it like that, you’re not a real cat!!
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Kamisato Ayato;
He doesn’t leave you alone. 
  You’re trotting along the engawa of the estate on your way to find a nice spot to nap—and suddenly, you’re swooped up into his arms. Ayato smiles and strokes your head. “There you are, my dear. I was searching for you,” he hums and turns around to walk into the estate. 
  Ayato spends about half the day—and sometimes more—in his study tending to paperwork of many kinds. Unusually, you would lend a hand and help with the neverending piles on his desk, but you’re little help like this… still, he demands that you “lend your paw” and sit on his lap the entire time. 
  It was nice at first, he’s got a nice lap to lay or loaf on, and he would scratch you in spots you couldn’t reach yourself, or just stroke your back… but after five hours, you really want to stretch your legs.      So, you squeeze out from under his arm and stretch next to him, letting out a big yawn—only to find a finger poking your tongue?!
  The bastard actually stuck his finger in your mouth when you yawned. Ayato smiled, all smug and somehow innocent at the same time. You meowed in disapproval, but it went straight over his head, as if he had any idea as to what you had just said to him, insult or not. 
  He also keeps pinching your toe beans, sometimes making your claws stretch out and then back in—even in the middle of the night, he rubbed your paws and stuck his finger between the beans. What is wrong with this guy. 
  Other than messing with you and pulling your leg, he does provide the best food and treats—as usual, you have the privilege of accessing the clan kitchens and being made food by them on a daily basis and it never fails to make you nearly cry with how good it is.       And even now, as you sit next to his desk and his dinner is brought to him (even though you’ve tried to ask the staff to not bring it to him, and that he has to eat outside of his study or else his ass will get stuck to the floor) you are given your own tray of dishes as well. 
  Gobbling down the freshly made meals tailored to you even in this form, Ayato is happy that you seem to have a good appetite. He had been concerned that this… situation might stress you out and you wouldn’t be able to eat or sleep. 
  Despite his endless workload, Ayato somehow finds the time to pamper and take care of you between his busy schedule. He sits down with you in the gardens and brushes your fur, rubs your cheeks and kisses your nose (and you need to wet it again every time). As if you were a little fur baby for him to take care of. 
  He still talks to you as if you were as you always are, though Ayaka uses a baby-voice like one would use with a cat (she tries not to, but fails), Ayato speaks to you normally. He plucks the seeds out of a small cube of watermelon before feeding it to you as he recounts his day, humming in affirmation as you meow back about your own… he doesn’t understand it, but you need to get it out as well. 
  Your snout is practically pink by the end of the watermelon bowl, and Ayato gives you that smile… oh no. 
  “It’s been a few days now, and you ran around the garden yesterday… and now you’re covered in melon juice. Why don’t I ask Thoma to warm a bath to wash your fur?” he asks innocently, and watches in amusement as you shoot out of his lap and flee into the estate. Not a chance. 
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Kaveh;
Kaveh gapes at you. You stare up at him. He blinks. You blink.
  “H-hah???!” he scoops you up—accidentally upside down, but you just flop in his arms, still blinking at him from your angle, you know he won’t drop you. Kaveh rights you and brings you nearly nose-to-nose as he stares into your eyes. “How did this happen? You were just—I was… this…”
  He holds you a few centimetres away so neither of you go cross-eyed. “... Do you understand me?”
  You nod and raise your paw, pressing it onto his cheek.
  Kaveh doesn’t move his face away and lets your paw just press against his skin. “Okay, you’re… uh, aware… how do I fix this?”
  “Meow.”
  “...” right. Maybe this was a stupid question. 
  Kaveh goes a bit overboard, he researches the best ways to take care of a cat, the best foods, beds, toys—everything. And suddenly, he comes home after a short day at work (he has more important things to tend to!) with… so much stuff. 
  You stare, dumbfounded, as Kaveh carves out a cat-space in his and Alhaitham’s house… did he get Alhaitham’s permission to do this? You somehow doubt it. 
  After everything is set up, he stands and sets his hands on his hips with a wide smile. “What do you think?” Kaveh asks, looking down at you sitting by his feet with a swaying tail. “I think it fits very well, the colours compliment our living room—and I tried to arrange it in a way that mostly hugs the wall and doesn’t intercept with the flow of the room—”
  He’s rambling again. You don’t mind when he gets going and his interior design skills ARE good, despite it not being his expertise, it goes hand in hand with architecture. 
  But… did he consult the other half of this house before doing this? 
  You found out quickly, you had just settled in the high cat-bed that hung on the wall, giving you a good view over the living room as well as a height advantage to him (now you get why cats enjoy the high ground)... when the front door opens and a very familiar Scribe enters. 
  Alhaitham wasn’t even aware that you had turned into a cat, to him… he just came home to see a random cat in the living room—and that it was arranged completely differently to give you space. 
  Thankfully Alhaitham has a good few brain cells to rub together between his fingers, and isn’t quick to rise, so he looked to Kaveh and tilted his head towards the kitchen… where they had a lengthy discussion, where Kaveh explained everything to him and asked him if it was okay…
  Which is a tad late when he’s already rearranged the entire living room and gotten you comfortable there… but fine. So long as he takes it all down and makes everything as it should be once you’re back to normal. When asked, Alhaitham said he was too busy to help turn you back and told him to consult the library. 
  Kaveh is a hugger in his sleep, and you’re a victim (you love his hugs). He practically wraps himself around you and holds you to himself the entire night—and don’t you dare try to leave, he’ll wake up and whine about it. He does sometimes squeeze a bit too much—you’re not as durable as you usually are, you’re just a little kitty…
  He gets cuteness aggression when you do anything mildly affectionate. Rub against his legs while he’s at his desk, loaf on his lap and slow blink up at him, lick his hand when he strokes your head… Kaveh tries his best not to squeeze you or shake you like a keychain, he bit into his own hand once to refrain from biting your full cheek of food once. 
  He drew a full sketchbook of you over the span of two weeks, he can’t help it—you’re too adorable and he wants to keep the image of you forever. 
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Neuvillette;
Not chill about this, Neuvillette was immediately concerned with how to turn you back and if this curse-spell could have any permanent effects on you. He doesn’t really have many tomes to consult, nor are there many people he could ask for advice as to… how to fix this. 
  After some time, and you rubbing your furry cheek on his arm and leg to try and calm down his nerves, Neuvillette does slow down. He’s usually very calm in the face of the unknown or danger—but he’s never had to deal with direct danger (or not, he hasn’t figured out if it’s dangerous or not yet) when it comes to you. 
  Thankfully, you’re still there with him, just… a bit smaller, and furrier… and you smell a bit weird—still like you, but also with a tinge of something else. Perhaps that part of your scent has always been your humanity. 
  And now you’re a cat. 
  He’s never owned a pet before—and you’re hardly a typical pet, and thus consults the only person he can think of. Furina (though he’s unsure she’s ever owned a pet either?).
  And she loves you, she already likes you well enough—but like this? You’re getting picked up, petted, smooched, pampered and loved. Neuvillette just stands a bit awkwardly as Furina gets it out of her system and you get dangerously close to being fed up with her hugging and smooching… you’re not an actual cat! You just look like one!!
  After being freed from her clutches, Neuvillette holds you with more dignity for a while until you feel safe enough to walk around the ex-Archon’s home (and won’t get swooped up again). When the initial chaos is over, he sits down with Furina and they put their heads together to try and find a solution to this. They write down how it happened, what exactly changed—your mind is the same, your scent as well as your eyes. Though your fur has turned a shimmering white regardless of your head and body hair colour before. 
  You look like a big snowball. 
  There’s no real conclusion to the first session of brainstorming, but they manage to narrow down that though neither was there to see what exactly happened, it was likely a spell, or perhaps an artefact you touched (where would that even happen inside Fontaine?) or something along those lines. 
  Thus, Neuvillette takes you back home for the night. He’s a bit stiff around you, he doesn’t interact much with animals and though he won’t avoid them if a cat approaches him on the street (he’d mostly greet and nod at them) he hasn’t exactly had to care for one before. 
  He has to rely on asking you yes or no questions that you can nod or shake your head to, and makes it through the first few days like that. And while you’re… cute? (He’s not entirely sure how to describe you) Nauvillette does much more prefer you in your normal state, where he can communicate with you, hold your hand and touch your cheek without getting sniffed at by a wet nose.
  Not that Neuvillette doesn’t enjoy petting your fur and scratching under your chin, it’s just not the same. 
  It is very amusing to watch your head move left and right as you sit on the kitchen counter and watch Neuvillette prepare dinner—mostly for himself as you don’t eat typical foods now. He offers a small piece of a carrot and watches as you crunch on it for a good thirty seconds until it’s mushed enough to swallow. 
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Tartaglia;
Another situation of; the funniest shit he’s ever seen. 
  He brings you everywhere—Childe has no concept of ‘pet-free zone’ because you’re not his pet? You’re his partner? His beloved? Why is he being shooed out, you’re on a leash and everything (half chewed apart because you refuse to wear it with dignity and do all in your power to get free, how dare he put you on a LEASH).
 Of course, initially, he was confused and rather concerned. He thought you might have been attacked, or targeted and thus had been made into this… cat, maliciously. 
  But you honestly seem pretty undisturbed, so he is as well. Calm cat, calm Childe. 
  He dresses you up before taking you outside—not necessarily for fun, but rather because it’s insanely cold in Snezhnaya in these months, and he doesn’t want you to be a block of ice after a few minutes. So he goes and buys some puffy coats, socks and a warm blanket for your return. You feel like you look like an idiot (you already look like a cat…) in all these clothes, but his cooing and smooching make it less annoying—mostly because now your annoyances are focused on him. 
  His siblings don’t really understand that it’s you, not at the younger range—and Childe just tells them that you’re a cat he and you decided to take care of for a while and that you’re busy elsewhere. Tonia doesn’t seem as convinced when Childe keeps smooching your nose and rubbing his cheek against yours. 
  Embarrassing enough as it is, Childe starts to call you nicknames now—it isn’t entirely unusual, but they’ve always been normal… now he’s calling you “Combat kitten” and “Fuzzy comrade”... worst of all was “General toebeans”
  You wish you could tell him to stop, but all you have are meows and hisses. 
  Snezhnayan homes are made to withstand cold and harsh winds, and thus have excellent central heating systems… also known as a fireplace—and a furnace elsewhere. And curling up on some soft blankets or a plush chair by the furnace as snow gathers on the windowsill and winds brush against the exterior of the house… there are few places more comfortable to take a nap.
  Unfortunately, Childe’s humming and singing from the kitchen disturbs your perfect peace, but you’re just glad he’s having fun. You’ll live. 
  And he brings you some treats, places a small kiss on top of your furry head and sits down in the other chair, dragging the one you’re on to be next to his so that he can stroke your back and belly when you eventually flop on your back for more attention. 
  He’s pulled every string and contact in the Fatui to try and figure how to turn you back (except a select few who will either be last measures or just straight avoidances despite advice they might give) but hasn’t had much luck so far. Thankfully you've only been stuck like this for a week or so, and thus it hasn’t been so long to be concerning. 
  Perhaps it’s just a matter of waiting it out, and Childe is surprisingly patient. 
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Thoma;
The Housekeeper stands in surprise as a cat is suddenly plopped into his arms. “Ah… is this… a new house pet…?” the Kamisato estate doesn’t exactly have pets, there are some cats that come around and nap in the gardens every now and then and leave after a while, but this cat is staring at him as if they’ve known him their entire life.
  Ayato only hums as he’s already turned to another task, rushing from one thing to another as the busy days of summer come along. He doesn’t have much time to explain—nor is there much to explain. He had borrowed you for a few minutes to help him with something, he turns around for a moment, and the next you’re a cat.
  Thoma stares at him, silent for a time. He’s not entirely sure if Ayato is messing with him or not—it’s entirely possible, and par for the course for his lord—but as Ayato shakes his head and waves his hand in dismissal, he speaks again. “I already have someone looking into it, take care of them in the meantime. I’ll have someone fetch you if there is news.”
  You’re actually a cat. 
  After leaving Ayato’s study and sitting down outside where the afternoon sun has begun sinking towards the oceans beyond the cliff the estate sits on, Thoma stares at you as if he’s not entirely sure what to do with you. 
  Despite the initial confusion (and the followed concern, but it’s quickly dampened somewhat, Ayato has someone on the case and he trusts him to find a solution) Thoma is a very responsible person. He makes sure you’re not uncomfortable at all despite some estate staff vehemently refusing to let you in specific places… such as the kitchen. Fair enough. But there are also certain rooms and areas that have to be kept very clean and they don’t want cat hairs to get all over the place. 
  Thoma brings you around, he’s got many places to be, and he’s sure you’d like to stretch your legs anyway—it’s always nice to leave the estate for a few hours and run some errands. He had to head down to a nearby village and see whether trade agreements were coming along smoothly, they produce a lot of high quality rice and are often stuck in trade deals with large towns and clans for their rice—and for a well enough reason. Recently, Ayato had struck a deal with them and everything was signed and well along its way, Thoma just had to go and make sure they had everything they needed for transport. 
  It was a good walk, but you kept up easily… somehow having four legs rather than two makes you less tired after walking for some hours…? Or perhaps it’s because your body is so light now, you don’t know much about cat anatomy. 
  The meeting went well and you didn’t linger for long.
  Unfortunately, a heavy downpour began to fall on the two of you as you headed back. Thoma quickly scooped you up and tucked you into his jacket—it’s not much of a jacket, it barely reaches below his ribs, but it was just big enough for him to cover you (and lean a bit to cover you better) and pick up his pace to run back to the Kamisato estate. 
  After making it back inside, the rain was as if a waterfall had opened in the heavens to drop down on the roof. Thoma’s hair is wet and sticks to his cheeks as he sets you down. “Ah, that was close,” he laughs softly. “Are you dry?”
  You shake yourself after being pressed against his chest for so long and sniff around your fur, then give him a nod. 
  “Hah, that’s good, I’ve heard cats don’t like water much,” he smiles. “I need a change of clothes, come with me?”
  You let out a happy meow and follow him along further inside. 
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Venti;
Cooes at you and talks to you with a baby-voice, he puts both thumbs on either side of your cheeks and rubs your face like it’s dough… even though it makes his nose red and his eyes puffy—despite the cursed allergy that torments his everyday life (there’s so many cats in Mondstadt) he doesn’t let it stop him from being around you. Pestering some healers for a medicine that could help, he feels… less bad, but it doesn’t really dampen the itch in his eyes and throat well enough.
  He doesn’t take this situation seriously at all, at least not nearly as much as you do—you should probably trust his reactions and instincts, as he’s far more knowledgeable than you (even though he doesn’t act like it at all) and if you were in any danger, he wouldn’t be smooching your cheeks and nuzzling you like HE’S the cat. 
  Thus, you try to calm down, to focus on just getting through the days and not feel embarrassed when you have to clean yourself or relieve yourself as a cat. 
  But Venti also doesn’t make it easy for you, he builds a “throne” for you out of books and pillows for you to have the high ground (he doesn’t want to put holes in the wall for a hanging bed) and gives you “Mondstadt’s finest tuna” that tasted very much like a normal piece of tuna, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless.
  Sometimes you really wonder if he was the one who cursed you just so he could mess with you and cuddle you without you being able to fend him off. Not that you would be particularly opposed to cuddles in the first place? He could just ask?? Besides, why would he choose the form of a cat out of every other pet considering his consistent sneezing up a storm around them.
It doesn’t add up, you discard your theory.
  You can’t sleep in the same bed anymore, both because Venti moves a lot in his sleep and being a cat does not make it safe, he could crush you! (as if he’s heavy enough to do that) and because he might well and truly pass away if he had to be so close to your furry-ass for such a pronged amount of time… and thus, Venti makes a nice bed for you out of blankets and pillows next to your usual one where you can rest.
  There was a time where these new cat instincts took a bit too much over, and when you were chasing a crystalfly on a walk along the roads outside the city, you had hopped onto a big rock—and after missing your chance to catch the crystalfly, you hopped onto Venti and tried to eat his braids. 
  He yelped in surprise, but laughed once he realised what you were doing. “My hair isn’t for eating, it’s no good for your digestion either!”
  You felt embarrassed about this little incident, and he kept making fun of you for it—though not necessarily maliciously, Venti just thought it was funny that you didn’t go for his hat, but his hair instead.
  Climbing to the top of the Mondstadt cathedral or the statue of himself isn’t your favourite pastime, but it’s surprisingly much easier in this form—and thus when Venti suggests you go to the top to play some songs, you had been hesitant at first.
  Making it to the top, Venti sits down comfortably as if he’s done it a thousand times (you sometimes suspect he climbs it to make you feel better, because you know he can just float up with a gust of wind) and pats his lap for you to sit down. 
  You plop yourself onto his thighs and settle comfortably as the sun sinks below the horizon, Venti takes out his usual lyre and tests a few tunes to ensure it’s properly set. “Let me play you something nice, it’ll help you sleep.”
  And it is nice, your ears flick as his fingers dance along the harp’s strings, he hums along with it but doesn’t sing full words—the vibration of the song calms you and you rest your head on your paws. 
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Wanderer;
“You are the ugliest cat I’ve ever seen in my life.”
  He’s being dramatic, you’re not that ugly… but…
  Why did you have to turn into a hairless cat? 
  You feel strange, and perhaps you would also feel the same way if you had a lot of hair, but every single breeze makes you feel you are especially naked—because you are!
  Wanderer isn’t exactly happy to have to take care of you—he will do it, of course, but he will also complain about it. You were perfectly independent and functional as a person before you just had to go and sniff some plant in the wild that poofed you into a cat before his very eyes. 
  He refuses to seek help to find out how to turn you back, not because he doesn’t want anyone to know that you’re a cat, but rather because he’s certain he can handle it himself. 
  You whack at his arm with your paw, meowing up a storm after a few hours of not being fed the day after—he had completely forgotten that he needs to prepare something digestible for you… he’s never had to take care of a creature like you before—what can you even eat?? He clicks his tongue. “Don’t swat at me like that. You’re human, act like it…”
  You’re not human right now!! Give me food!!
  Eventually, he does begin to take proper care of you, even though he keeps telling you that you look like a peeled potato… you don’t have many ways of retaliation except whacking him with your paw or hissing when he lightly pinches a big patch of your skin. 
  Surprisingly, during one strangely cold night when you were curled on the bed and trying to stay warm—even the slightest drop in temperature was very cold to your hairless body… you feel something soft drape over you.     Half-asleep and cold, you squint up and scrunch your nose as your whiskers squish against the blanket, you see Wanderer turn back around after setting it over you. Hah… he’s soft under that hard shell as always, even if he tries to act aloof. 
  After several days of no luck in trying to turn you back, Wanderer does begin to cave to asking for some… advice. Not help. Advice.
  With you in his arms, head reaching towards the market stalls of Sumeru city (literally everything smells good and extremely edible) as he passes by, Wanderer takes you to meet with Nahida who is rather enthusiastic about this mystery. She pets you and smiles, humming as he recounts what happened and describes the particular flower you smelled. 
  “Hm, I have an idea, but it’ll take a while to execute… do you think it’ll be okay for them to remain like this for a few more days?” the archon taps her chin in thought, mind swirling with ideas and possible solutions. 
  Wanderer huffs, not exactly a scoff, and clapped his hand onto your head. “It’s fine.”
  But as soon as you returned back home and he set you down on the living room table, Wanderer points at you. “You better turn back to normal soon…” he folds his arms over his chest, his expression isn’t as tight as it was before. “I don’t want to deal with this forever. Just get back soon.”
  You inch closer to him on the table, reaching your paw out to tug his sleeve closer—only to rub your head into his palm. He clicks his tongue. “Whatever… don’t think this counts as an apology. You’ll have to make up for it properly when you’re you again.”
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Wriothesley;
You are, quite possibly, the smallest cat he has ever seen. 
  He holds you in the palm of his hand, it’s adorable. Wriothesley cracks a grin and lifts you to eye-level. “Hm, you’re not nearly as scary like this, no one in this prison will listen to you like this.”
  You want to whack him on his nose, but politely refrain—if only because you don’t want to get dropped. You meow at him, ferocious and upset at this situation, you have a job to tend to! Things to do!
  But Wriothesley has other ideas, he sets you down on his desk and sits down. “Now, how did this happen? I assume this wasn’t intentional?” is he teasing you? Most likely. He knows you can’t just answer his questions, and you assumed he would be slightly more concerned when a guard brought you to his office…
  But no, he instantly recognised you and dismissed the guard. Had it been the eyes? The fur? Is he somehow responsible for this??
  All unanswered questions, and though he sends out word to some people he thinks might be able to help decipher this mystery, he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get you back to normal. He sets you in the pocket of his vest (it’s embarrassing that you actually fit) and goes on with his days as normal. 
  Siegwinne was initially very concerned, she seemed much more sensible in her worries that leaving you in this form for too long might be dangerous and that the Fortress isn’t exactly a good place for pets. There are a lot of crevices to get stuck in and things to get hurt on.
  Though you still retain your mind, so you should be alright in that sense… so long as you don’t get overly curious. 
  He is undeniably very warm, and cuddling up to him at night is very comfortable—especially now that you can just lay on his chest and snooze there and not worry about being dragged back into his embrace if you move too much in your sleep. You barely move at all in this form.
  Come morning, Wriothesley was already awake by the time you open your eyes, he strokes your fur and scratches behind your ears. Having a day pass by does make the initially amusing situation a bit more… real. He doesn’t want you to be struck with a permanent curse, or some kind of spell that might harm you in the long run. 
  “Don’t you worry,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. “I’ll make sure you’re back to normal soon, just stick close by.”
  And you do, mostly because you couldn’t have been blessed (cursed?) with a normal-sized cat body, but possibly the smallest there could be. You can’t even jump up onto his desk by yourself and have to yowl at him to let you up. 
  He does so happily, surprisingly eager to carry you around and help you with the smallest things. 
  Wriothesley doesn’t even change in mood from amusement when you chase the pen in his hands as it glides across paperwork he signs, you leap onto his arm and try to whack at the pet in either some strange instinctual haze, or an attempt to play—and though you whacking the pen makes it seem like he has the handwriting of a toddler, it’s just rather funny.
  The Fortress doesn’t exactly have a large variety of foods, not in the sense that it can be adjusted for the diet of a cat that isn’t accounted for during inventory fills, and thus Wriothesley sends for specific ingredients that won’t be heavy on your tiny little stomach. 
  And he also… got some cat-related things delivered, like a bed, some string toys and treats. You never used the bed, either preferring his lap to nap on, or just slept in the strangest places he never even imagined you could reach with those stubby legs. 
  But he’s a very responsible caretaker, at least, that’s what he claims as he holds you down to brush your teeth and you wriggle and flail like an eel. 
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Xiao; 
Very worried, he didn’t even realise the cat sitting in the clearing of the forest was you at first and searched for you for several minutes before seeming to realise that you had just… shrunk. Into a cat. 
  He stares at you for a good minute, lips parted and eyes large… before your name tentatively leaves his mouth.
  You meow in affirmation, standing and shaking yourself as you try to understand the situation yourself—still a bit disoriented. 
  Xiao approaches you quickly and kneels down in front of you, he lifts you up to your hind legs, puts you down and inspects your ears, your tail and under your paws. You meow in curiosity as to what he is doing, and surprisingly he seems to understand your question. 
  “There might be traces of whatever did this on your body, it will make it easier to track or reverse,” he says and even checks inside your mouth, which you weren’t really happy with. 
  Unfortunately, he doesn’t find any answers, and kneels there rather awkwardly with you in front of him… what now? This situation has stumped him a bit—he’s supposed to be able to keep you safe from all manners of danger and curses like this (perhaps not exactly like this, he never prepared for this exact scenario) and now that he’s not got many leads to fix it, his mind is a bit aimless in where to search for information. 
  He has no idea how to care for you, and while he has vague ideas of the behaviours of animals…they mostly stem from wild animals and their reactions to foreign presences in their territories, or similar scenarios. 
  What does a meow mean? Is there something wrong? What does it mean when you paw at the door? Do you want to go outside? But it’s two in the morning?
  He severely overestimates the portions of food you eat, giving you a full plate of something the Wangshu Inn kitchens prepared on his request (they figured out what happened and have been trying to help him, but Xiao is still trying to be subtle and secretive about the situation) and being confused when you only ate a fourth of it. 
  Are you sick? Was it the wrong kind of food?
  He brings you along with him on his hunts, while he could leave you at the inn… how can he be sure that you won’t get into trouble? The window is high above the ground, what if you tumble out of it? What if you try to climb up on the dresser in the room and get stuck? Or fall down and hurt yourself?
  No, you’re safest with him, even if he has to wield his spear with one hand and hold you with the other. 
  He’s surprisingly good at it too. 
  Desperate after a week of unsuccessful herbs and potions he tried to make, Xiao caves and contacts Liyue Harbour and the adepti that reside there for help.
  It seems his message had gotten into Cloud Retainer’s hands, and instead of any actually helpful advice on how to turn you back… she had sent an entire booklet of cat behaviours, diets and how to take care of them.
  Helpful, sure… but not exactly what he was asking for. 
  One evening as he was out on the usual hunts, he noticed that you were walking slowly by his side, yawning and rather cold so high in the mountains. He didn’t even have to think about what might be wrong or what to do, as he had already scooped you up into his arms and teleported back to the inn, where he sat down with you on the bed. 
  “You should tell me when you’re tired…” he grumbles and tugs one of the covers on the bed to his lap where he wraps it around you as if bundling a baby up. Xiao reaches up and scratches behind your ears as your eyes blink closed in the comfort of being back in the warm room.
  He had only been petting you for s few seconds when he felt you… tremble? There was a strange rumbling sound coming from you, are you uncomfortable? He doesn’t quite understand it… but you continue to rumble as he scratches your head and ears. 
  Ah, was this the ‘purring’ he read about in one of the booklets Ganyu sent him? How… cute.
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Zhongli;
“Ah…” Zhongli stares at you, this isn’t quite what he had imagined would happen… he had been crafting a potion in hopes it would help Ganyu sleep better, she had been overworking herself (again) more than usual and was so tired that she couldn’t sleep. It can happen. 
  The combination of herbs and materials required for the potion he had put together wasn’t very suitable for humans, and of course he made sure to let you know so that you wouldn’t drink it… but he hadn’t expected that only being touched by a single drop onto the back of your hand would lead to a poof, and your size being reduced and body turned to that of a cat. 
  You had only wanted to help by handing him ingredients so that he didn’t have to turn around so often… you didn’t anticipate this either!
  He makes sure the potion won’t burn and sets a lid on the pot before turning towards you. “I… had not foreseen that this could have been a danger to you, my apologies,” he kneels down on one knee and holds his hand out for you to sniff. You do so, snout twitching towards his finger before you bump your head into his palm. 
  “Have you retained some sense of consciousness?” he wonders, gloved hand moving to stroke over your small head, your ears flattening under his palm. “I’m sure I can find a way to reverse this.”
  He was sure, at least. But after some research and testing… he wasn’t making any progress—at least, he wasn’t making progress in finding ways to turn you to your normal self without some potential risks or aftereffects. 
  What he did find, was that the herb that you had been touching, and the potion he had halfway crafted was similar to another concoction that he had made before—and the effects of that had only been temporary. 
  It seems you will simply have to wait until the effect wears off. 
  Zhongli had instinctively prepared a delightful meal in the way he knows you would enjoy while you sit in the kitchen counter and watch with interest, your tail swaying happily as you watch him chop some vegetables and set them into the pot… but halfway through the process as he’s setting spices and herbs into the pot, Zhongli realises that more than half of the ingredients in the pot are unsuitable for cats to eat. 
  He finishes the meal and sets it aside, before fetching some fish you had purchased just yesterday that he was going to use for lunch tomorrow and cut it into nicely bite-sized pieces. You tilt your head slightly as you watch—the meal he had just been putting together doesn’t have any fish in it?? What’s it for?
  And honestly, when he plated your food (in a very professional and presentable way) and set it down on the dining table, then set his own on the other side for himself… you felt a bit offended. Raw fish, some rice and a hard boiled egg… next to his delicious smelling beef stew… 
  If you could’ve cried, you would have. And Zhongli felt pretty bad for the rest of the day, he tried to offer you some “safe” treats or make it up to you with some pets and scritches, but you still sulked.
  You had looked forward to this dinner all day…
  Thankfully you got over it rather quickly and Zhongli is glad that he didn’t offend you too badly… it seems having been turned into a cat had made you quite dramatic as well, he doesn’t recall you ever having sulked like this over a meal before.
  Knowing that it was simply a waiting game, Zhongli isn’t very concerned about your state, but he does ensure that you’re comfortable and not afraid—he understands that perceiving the world differently like this can be strange and even scary, but he’s glad when it seems that you’re relatively calm. 
  Your nightly routines are slightly out of whack now—something that Zhongli isn’t very fond of, he quite likes it that after cleaning up after dinner, the two of you settle in the living room for a while. He tends to read and it varies what you get up to, but it’s always a shared time where you sit in silence or chat about your days.
  He does talk about his day to you, sitting on the comfortable seat in the living room with you on his lap, Zhongli recounts his day to you and expresses that he hopes you weren’t too bored alone in the home today, and that perhaps he can convince the director to allow him to bring you for a day. He strokes your back and smiles as a rumbling purr leaves you, he scratches under your chin and touches his forehead to yours as you seem to have fallen asleep on his lap. He reaches for his book and decides to read for a while before taking you to bed. 
  Despite the mishap, he’s glad you’re safe—he will endeavour to be more careful in the future and ensure you won’t be hurt or disturbed by his work. 
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0omillo0 · 3 days ago
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hi hi, i’ve been watching older skz yt videos and had the thought of being jisung’s girlfriend but also being apart of the skz film crew so being there for every single mv shoot, skzcode, etc. and jisung being so excited and waving cutely towards you while you’re behind the camera!
(i thought the idea was cute and i wanted to share but i literally have no one to share my skz thoughts with outside of socials and you’re the only page i’ve shared my ideas with so far although i’m anon, i’ve requested a couple of the angst han jisung stuff that you’ve written and your writing makes my day, i hope you’re doing well and taking care of yourself riri 🥹🤍)
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Behind the Camera, In His Heart
Han Jisung x Reader ; fluff
As a part of Stray Kids’ film crew, your job was to capture the group in their element. Whether it was filming chaotic SKZ-Code episodes or sleek music videos, you were always behind the camera, steadying shots, barking instructions, or adjusting lighting. But there was one particular member who made it increasingly hard to stay professional.
Han Jisung.
Your boyfriend.
The love of your life… and also the biggest distraction on set.
“Y/N!”
Speak of the devil. You glanced up from your camera settings to see Jisung waving at you wildly from across the set. Dressed in his MV outfit and absolutely killing it, he grinned ear-to-ear and waved both hands in a frenzy like he hadn’t just seen you fifteen minutes ago.
“Focus, Han!” Minho barked, smacking Jisung on the arm. “We’re not filming Y/N-Code. Stick to the choreography.”
Jisung pouted dramatically, tossing a betrayed look at Minho before giving you one last enthusiastic wave.
“Hi, jagi!”
From behind you, Seungmin snorted. “He’s like a golden retriever who saw their owner.”
“I think golden retrievers have more chill,” Hyunjin quipped as he adjusted his hair in the monitor reflection.
“You guys are just jealous!” Jisung shot back, folding his arms but still sneaking little glances in your direction.
“Yeah,” Chan added, rubbing his temples. “Jealous of how much Y/N has to endure that.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. Being around Stray Kids day in and day out meant you were no stranger to their relentless teasing, but Jisung always made sure it was worth it.
“Jisung,” you called, leaning just slightly around the camera. “Focus! You’re holding everyone up.”
“I am focused,” he insisted, running his hands through his hair to look extra dashing. “I’m focusing on you!”
“Boo!” came the collective groan from the members.
Chan clapped his hands. “Alright, Jisung’s flirting session is over. Let’s run it again before I lose my mind.”
Jisung gave you a sheepish shrug before getting into formation with the others. But, as the music started and they dove into their choreography, he still managed to sneak little glances at you every chance he got.
Later, during a quick break, you were crouched behind the camera reviewing the footage when Jisung plopped down beside you, completely ignoring his makeup artist’s protests to touch up his hair.
“So, how did I do?” he asked, voice low and teasing as he nudged your shoulder.
“Pretty good,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the screen. “But you kept looking at the camera.”
He smirked. “I wasn’t looking at the camera.”
“Yah!” You shoved his arm, and he burst out laughing, the sound so infectious that even the other members glanced over with amused looks.
“You guys are disgusting,” Changbin groaned, tossing his water bottle at Jisung, who caught it with ease.
“Don’t be mad just because I’m in love!” Jisung shot back, leaning closer to you and resting his chin on your shoulder.
“That’s it,” Minho said, deadpan. “Y/N, I’m banning you from set.”
“Hey!” Jisung protested immediately, clutching onto your arm like a lifeline. “You can’t do that! Y/N is my muse!”
Jeongin’s head peeked out from behind the snack table. “You’re only saying that because she edits out your embarrassing moments.”
You grinned at that, tilting your head toward Jisung. “Is that true?”
Jisung straightened up and shook his head frantically. “No! I mean—yes—but no! I mean—”
The rest of the crew burst out laughing, and Jisung flushed as red as his stage outfit, burying his face in his hands.
Despite the teasing and chaos, being on set with him was your favorite thing in the world. Because behind every take, every chaotic SKZ-Code challenge, and every beautifully shot music video, Jisung always made sure you knew how much you meant to him—whether it was through over-the-top waves, secret smiles, or soft words whispered when no one else was watching.
And you wouldn’t trade it for anything.
taglist: @intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @sseawavee @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @velvetmoonlght @flourishmoon
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l0v3r666 · 3 days ago
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Mc inserts x TWST characters
(basically non-yuu pairings I think about instead of my inbox :p)
Ignyhide vice!Mc x Jamil Viper
Mc is probably twisted from one of the little demon goons, and it makes your contrast with Jamil charmingly obvious. You’re both vices in the basketball club with an outside connection to your wardens (you figured a physical activity’ll ward Idia’s eye away) and you both hate your jobs to a comedic degree. The connection is actually really sweet and subtle!! Atleast until book 6 when Mc is complaining about their ego trippy boss while basically eating out of Jamil’s hand, feeding him information like the layout and hierarchy of styx,, as Idia’s super exclusive assistant it’s only fair to give your guests a full tour!
“geez! And he just gets so flippy-floppy, yknow? He’s got this thing about energy drinks now so I’ve been diluting them, it’s such a pain!”
“It might just be a defect with housewardens. Have you ever heard of the incompetency theory?”
Card soldier!Mc x Malleus Draconia
okay picture this- Mc is comepletely wasted and coming off the high from a holiday party that was totally killer. You wander into the woods past campus and find yourself at a little abandoned cottage, it’s like 100% cozy enough to chill in before stumbling back to the dorms. You continue heading there for pregames/drunken shenanigans, meeting up with some hot guy that hangs around sometimes. You’re fully blindsided when your “little buddy” is kicking heartslabyul ass during a spelldrive tourney..
“Yoooooo, Mally, you must be really fun at parties. Want ta’ go with me?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever been invited to a “rager” before, but it sounds.. enjoyable. I accept.”
Ignyhide freshman!Mc x Deuce Spade
You’re a shaking mess during your first track meet. It’s a graduation requirement to take at least one gym class before the end of freshman year, and you’d rather die than take flight class with all those scary seniors!! Your vice had enough sense to convince you into not dropping out, he’d said that “track is low stress!” And “you’ll enjoy it” >:( you can’t believe he’d lie to your face like that!! (Is this the AI revolution??) You guess it’s not too bad though, you’ve even started strength training with a new friend. He’s a little short tempered, but it could be a lot worse.
“hey, I had no idea ignyhide kids were into track! I thought it’d be too much sun,,”
“We’re not vampires. I wouldn’t clown on you for the tea in your thermos, so lay off.. heh, there’s totally a dormouse in there.”
Scarabia housewarden!Mc x Leona Kingscholar
It’s pretty rare to see Leona of all people in your reserved pool chair, but plenty of weird stuff’s happened during your senior case study. You’re this close to getting your big shiny diploma- and a little rest now and then won’t hurt anybody! Savanaclaw’s housewarden has only had his position since last year, and you’ve held yours through all four. After knowing of each other for so long, it’s only logical that you’d become good friends! (Not that he calls you that)
“So you’re graduating, huh? Hope that brat you chose’ll fill your shoes, you’ve worked pretty hard.”
“awh, you’re such a sap,, I’m sure you’ll like Kalim, he’s no idiot. I promise to visit whenever you decide to graduate, but it’ll be a lot easier if i get that job in the castle!”
Octavinelle sophmore!Mc x Jack Howl
Poor Jack has to deal with everyone else’s business on top of his own education, when does he get a break? That ramshackle prefect’s looking for leads on how to beat those twins in the water, and only one face comes to mind. You’re his coworker at his temp job, and you owe him a favour (atleast from your perspective, he doesn’t hold it over your head) because with your grades Azul’s got it out for you. He’s begging for you to help him out- and who are you to deny those puppy eyes?
“Jack you can’t tell him! The housewarden’ll make me quit, I need this job! :(((“
“woah, it’s not like I’m gonna blackmail you.. what kind of guy do you think I am?”
Savanaclaw freshman!Mc x Epel Felmier
You’re lost, stressed and so confused in your first year :( it feels like everything is going wrong all the time!! It’s probably like 10x worse because you’re very tall and so built, but nobody cares to peer up at the cute giraffe ears on your head! You’ve been challenged by so. many. seniors. (and you win against all of them, you’re no pushover) but you’re tired of the beef. Epel just thinks you’re the coolest person in the room, and is always saying he wants to get freaky fridayed with you. But he doesn’t get the struggle!! Atleast Jack cares enough to tell him you’re just not liking it at school, and it makes Epel kick into action- he’s not letting you drop out, so please wait until he transfers!!
Pomefiore Junior!Mc x Rook Hunt
You’re convinced that Rook c. Hunt is the worst guy in all of twisted wonderland (C for creep)! And it SUCKS because he went from your rebellious savanaclaw boytoy to.. whatever he is. (How’d you miss the warning signs when you were tongueing him??) You can always see his stupid bob in your peripheral- but you’ve rationalized that if you watch him, then he only sees what you want him to see! It’s keeping your friends close and your enemies closer, just until graduation. And it does work, until you realize you’ve given Rook an inch that he’s turned into a mile. You’ll probably never get rid of him now, but what’s the point anymore?
“Ah, mon cher! You always enchant me with your passionate gaze, I’m honoured to be the object of your attention!”
“uh.. sure thing, hon. Whatever you say.”
Diasomnia Senior!Mc x Idia Shroud
You’re a highly educated noble from the mysterious land of Briar Valley. You are poised, weirdly formal, and utterly incompetent with your newest area of study- contemporary technology. You’ve tried to convince yourself that it’s pointless, they don’t even use it at home! But if you want to travel anytime before the collapse of human civilization, it must be done. you’re insatiable with your thirst for knowledge, and completely enamoured with having first hand experience with every era of mortal tech. It also happens to be almost impossible to revive your “Kno-Keya” once it has decided to die. That is where Idia Shroud comes in.
“In exchange for the revival of my electronic mailing device i am willing to offer an extensive dowry befitting of your station and technological necromancy skill. Will it suffice?”
“I literally only charged your phone, uh.. WOAH, A DOWRY?? I don’t have the space for five horses!! I’m totally not prepped for the marriage route, I haven’t seen the wiki yet!”
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teambyler · 2 days ago
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How the Duffers likely will make the general audience AWARE of Byler and CHEER for Byler
First the TL;DR. They'll probably do it with:
The Painting Lie
Will comes out to Mike
Will gets bullied for being gay, and Mike must make a choice
Mike and Will face danger together, alone, for the 1st time
And I'll spell out exactly how and why!
We in the Byler fandom have our theories: Flickergate, Lettergate, Churchgate, etc. While totally fun and while it would be amazing if they became reality, they don't answer the question of how the Duffers would manage audience expectations to make them accept and cheer for Byler.
Because we all know the reality: on a surface level, season 4 ended with a grand "love confession" from Mike to El. It appeared to have culminated a four-year arc that started from show's beginning. For the vast majority of viewers, a Byler relationship will be a HUGE SURPRISE.
This isn't just heteronormativity; it's also the fact that in every slow-burn romantic relationship in fiction, you need to make the show to openly present the question "Will they or won't they?" for a while first. The audience needs to start thinking that these 2 characters (1) MIGHT be together, and (2) eventually that they SHOULD be together and cheer for them!
For Jonathan and Nancy, there were a lot of moments suggesting they MIGHT be together in Season 1. Then in Season 2, we had THIS episode that made the audience think Nancy absolutely SHOULD be with Jonathan instead of Steve:
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The show then dragged things out MORE before their first kiss.
Anti-Bylers raise a fair point that there "isn't enough time" to replace a relationship that seemed to have been "fulfilled" at the end of s4, with an entirely different one. Of course, the ground has been laid for four seasons, but HOW EXACTLY can the Duffers make the audience accept and cheer for Byler, after seeming to have "built up Mike and El for 4 seasons"?
Showing Byler is POSSIBLE:
First, the most obvious (and elegant) way for the Duffers to accomplish this is the Painting Lie.
The main things that make the General Audience/GA dismiss the idea that Mike likes Will back are that he (1) confessed "I love you" to El and (2) said "it's not my fault you don't like girls" and so can't be gay or bi.
The show has to address these two things, and there are ways that are pretty obvious.
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The fact that El had no role in the painting COMPLETELY undercuts the "I love you" confession in the GA's mind. Anti-Milevens completely underestimate how this will affect Mike and El's relationship, and how the audience will view it. In the van, Will was not describing El, but himself. Many things Mike said didn't apply to El, but applied to Will.
When El finds out, she'll realize that Mike only said he loved her based on a LIE. She'll realize that she accurately clocked Mike for not loving her when they argued in s4. Mike might desperately try to repair things. Even if he does, this will show the GA that Mike and El WILL PROBABLY NOT end up together.
And Mike will be confronted with the fact that he felt romantic love because Will described HIMSELF. The GA will then know that Mike and Will MIGHT be together. (IF he is gay or bi, which they probably won't know quite yet!)
Then there's the OTHER Chekhov's gun that needs to fire: Will comes out to Mike. Will is still in the closet at the end of s4, and his right to be himself and find happiness is clearly central to his future arc. This HAS to be resolved. And he HAS to come out to his mom and to his BEST FRIEND.
When he comes out to Mike, he of course won't spurn Will. Will probably explains he didn't come out earlier because he was afraid Mike would be homophobic because of what he'd said that summer, "It's not my fault you don't like girls":
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Mike will need to explain why he said that. Whether he's honest or nervously comes up with an excuse, it's a golden opportunity to get the GA to revisit that scene and see before their very eyes that Mike might be dealing with internalized homophobia.
This is one way to signal to the GA that Mike might be gay or bi. And there is one other!
We've been told that Season 5 returns to Season 1 themes. The Core Four are probably bullied for the Hellfire Club, and Will might be bullied for being gay. The Duffers have said that s5 will center on his "emotional arc" and his "coming into his own as a young man," and so his confronting homophobia in an 80s small town is quite likely. Since Mike and Will are joined at the hip in s5, the same accusation might extend to Mike. This would mean that Mike will be confronted with the CHOICE of whether he'll stand up to the bullying. (Perhaps this is why there's a BTS pic of Mike with a bruise on his face?) The show could strongly imply to the GA that Mike is standing up not only for Will, but for himself. (Defending Will would also clearly parallel Jonathan fighting Steve in s1, which showed Nancy that "only love makes you that crazy sweetheart, and that damn stupid.")
How Season 5 can make the GA CHEER for Byler:
First, the show has put Will through so much trauma and made clear how selfless he is, that the audience already wants him to have a happy ending. He almost certainly will suffer again in s5. Meanwhile, the show has made clear that his love for Mike is PAINFULLY deep and won't simply go away.
Once the GA sees the POSSIBILITY of a Mike/Will romance as per above, their mental floodgates will open. As Jancy shows, It doesn't take much to get the audience to cheer for a relationship, after the seeds are planted. And Byler has FOUR SEASONS of seeds for the GA to look back on with fresh eyes!
How to recall those 4 seasons of material? We already know that Will is in danger and Mike is again rallying the party in s5. This likely will echo Mike and Will's relationship in s1 and s2 (probably with flashbacks, including the newly-filmed flashback from when they were young kids, bringing their long-time closeness to the fore in viewers' minds).
Plus, we likely will have Will and Mike facing danger together, alone, for the first time:
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It was Jonathan and Nancy facing danger together in s1 that made the vast majority of viewers ship Jancy. Mike and Will facing danger will put their love and willingness to risk their lives for each other to the fore. The GA will be made to remember all their sacrifices for each other: Mike putting Will before everything in s1 and s2, and Will sacrificing his feelings to help Mike be with El. They might hug each other after a near-death experience and have a mutual Gay Panic, which will be a callback (and contrast) to their non-hug at the airport. Millions will say "They should just kiss already."
There are SO MANY WAYS to get the audience cheering for Byler.
Will probably lives in Mike's house because the Byers don't have their own house in Hawkins anymore. Mike will KNOW the painting came from Will and wonder if it was romantic. The tension between them in s5 will make s4 look like nothing in comparison.
When Will comes out to him, Mike might ask, "Is... there anyone you like?"
He'll ask NERVOUSLY, like he once did before:
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Will probably won't answer honestly; he might make up another boy! Mike says, "Cool." Which leads to a new cycle of these two boys thinking their love is unrequited LOL.
But this time the General Audience will be fully aware of it. The miscommunication trope widely used in fictional TV romances will not only tell the GA that Byler should happen, but that it WILL happen. Will and Mike become THE "Will they or won't they?" couple that everyone is talking about. Mike's sexuality will not be officially revealed until mid or late season in order to let the excitement build. If Season 5 is released in more than one volume, there will be a flurry of videos and articles revisiting past seasons, finding evidence of Mike's feelings for Will that we Bylers have analyzed and curated for years. Except for a few vocal homophobes, the show will have made the GA (even people who don't watch analysis videos online) fully onboard with a Byler conclusion before it happens.
Season 5 will be messy. And glorious. It will be the most Byler season of all.
-teambyler
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tkwrites · 3 days ago
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Soft Launch; Hard Launch - Quinn Hughes x ofc
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gif from @kawhh
Title: Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly
Author: Tory / @tkwrites 
Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc) 
Warnings: Though most of this is fluff, there is a really nasty comment left on a social media post and mentions of poor self body image.
Summary: 4 times Quinn soft launched his relationship with Sarah, and one time he did it for real.
Word Count: 2,900
Comments: The idea of writing a 4+1 fic for my 500 mark has been rolling around my head for a while, so when I hit 500 followers about a week ago, I thought I'd try my hand at it. Many thanks to @aloragrace and @captainlexaproluvr for looking over this piece and calming my fears about doing new things. I’ve never written in this format before, but I quite like the way this turned out.  I’d love to know what you think!
I'm just bowled over and so excited! Thank you all so much. Knowing people enjoy my writing has been so fulfilling to me. I’ve wanted to write since I was about thirteen, but never had the guts to publish anything for people other than my friends to read. Now that I have and know that people like it, it feels a bit like I’m giving my little inner awkward teenager the best gift she could ever ask for. Thank you for your encouragement, kindness, and support! I can’t tell you how much it means to me.  
If you did enjoy this Snapshot, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 
Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 
1.
The first time Quinn put Sarah on his social media was after they got home from the family reunion. The Monday after she left, he was looking back through his photos while he waited for her to get off work. He found one from their beach day he’d completely forgotten he’d taken. Sarah was kneeling over a tide pool with a few of his cousins, pointing to something in the water, while they looked into her face with rapt attention.
Even though her face was mostly hidden from view, she looked beautiful in that casual way he loved so much. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing a pair of denim shorts along with her orange swim top.
Do you mind if I put this on my stories? he asked later that night, once she'd texted that she’d arrived home safely and would call as soon as she changed.
“I don’t mind,” she told him after they said their initial hellos, caught up on each other's day, and he asked again. “I’m a little surprised this is the first photo you want to go with,” she admitted. 
“Why?” 
“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to go with something more…” she trailed off, unsure exactly how to phrase what she was thinking. She’d only glanced at it, but from what she remembered, the photo wasn’t anything special. It was from the tide pools, and though it fulfilled the mission of showing her without showing her whole face, she didn’t look excessively beautiful or anything. In fact, the first thing she’d zeroed in on were her stomach rolls. Echoes of girls calling her too fat to be with NHL superstar Quinn Hughes rang in her mind. 
“I like it,” he defended before she could find the right words or slide down the slippery slope of body image woes. “You’re doing what you love.” 
It melted something in her that he looked at that photo and saw her passion. “That’s really sweet, Quinn.” 
“So it’s okay?” 
How could she say no now? “Yeah. It’s okay.”  She reminded herself she wouldn’t see any of the things people were saying about her unless she sought them out, which she had no intention of doing.
He put it up with nothing more than an orange heart in the corner as soon as they hung up from the FaceTime call.
Less than a minute later, Eunice raced into Sarah's room. She was so overly excited, she ran into the door jam, bouncing off of it before regaining her balance. She thrust her phone into Sarah's face. “Quinn put you on his stories!” 
Glancing at the screen, Sarah smiled. “Yeah, he just asked me if he could put that photo up.”
“Oh my god. This is so dreamy,” she gushed, turning the phone back around to look at the picture again. “You look so pretty.” 
2.
The second soft launch was on his main feed at the end of the summer, though he still didn’t show her face.
It wasn’t until they got home from Hawaii and all shared their photos that Quinn realized just how many pictures his mom had taken. He was used to her snapping pictures of them - it was a very common occurrence to look around at any given moment, especially on vacation, to find her brandishing a camera to document everything she could.
He’d never appreciated it more until he was looking through the shared album and saw all the moments his mom caught. There were photos of him and his brothers and him and Sarah once she got there. There was even a video of his and Luke’s shock at their girlfriends’ arrival.  
His favorite picture she took was from the beach outside of their vacation rental. Anxious for a quiet moment together, Sarah pulled him outside to watch the sun set.
The rest of the family was inside, debating something about dinner. They had been on a kayak and hiking tour that day, and he was so tired, he was beyond caring. As long as some kind of food was provided, he’d be fine.  
His mom must have walked out onto the back porch to snap the photo. 
 The sun, sinking into the ocean in front of them, turned them into shadow as Sarah leaned her head on his shoulder. It was the kind of photo people put in vacation advertisements, and when he’d seen it, he knew it had to be included in his end of summer review.
He uploaded it with a carousel of six other photos before captioning the post, One for the books. 
After receiving sixty notifications in the first five minutes, most of them from people he didn’t know asking who the girl in the 5th photo was, he muted the app.
It wasn’t until he looked at the comments that evening and saw, I think this must be that fat bitch he was dating during the season. I was hoping they’d broken up since he didn’t stay in Vancouver this summer and she did, that he disabled comments all together.
He’d been so angry that someone who didn’t know either of them would say anything like that, he had drafted a reply before realizing he was about to engage in a reactionary argument with someone he didn't even know or have any emotional ties to. He wanted to correct them, but knew he should really get PR help to do that. 
When they talked about social media for the first time in their relationship, Sarah explained how the comments from these so-called fans made her feel. Even though she knew they didn’t know her as a person and didn’t have any place in their relationship or lives, it was difficult not to let them get to her. 
He knew the feeling well. He’d gone through the same thing when he accepted the captaincy. The pressure to perform had been so immense, it had turned him into a snappy, short-fused, irritable person until, at the advice of some other captains in the league, he started putting his phone down regularly. 
3. 
The third came when it was his turn to sit for a 32 Thoughts podcast episode with Elliott and Kyle, and they were shooting the breeze before the actual interview began. 
“We missed you at dinner,” Elliott said, referencing a banquet that the league had hosted the night before for all players and press on site for the whirlwind pre-season media tour.
Without really thinking about it, Quinn found himself explaining, “my girlfriend's family lives here, so Jack and I had dinner with them last night.”
“She's not here?” Elliott asked. 
“No, she has stuff going on back home so she couldn't be, but it was nice to see them.” Some players brought family to the media tour, but not many. It was a short stint, shorter than most road trips during the season, so most didn’t bother.
Their producer, Shanna, flashed a red light, letting them know it was time to start the formal interview. Kyle counted down, “three two and one,” before introducing Quinn and starting with the questions. 
At the end of the recording, both Elliott and Shanna asked if he wanted them to cut his talk about his girlfriend and her family from the episode. Usually, they left those anecdotal conversations in, especially on the youtube videos, but this one was a bit more nuanced. 
“I think it should be fine, but can I talk to her about it and get back to you?” 
“Of course,” Shanna said, smiling. “It’s not slated to go up for a few weeks, so just let us know by the 17th.”
When he'd asked Sarah about it that night after arriving home, she seemed unconcerned. 
“I think that's kind of up to you.” She knew from their FaceTime conversation the night before that Quinn, Jack and their agent had eaten at Rachel's house, so there was no risk of someone posting photos and making the connection they were with her family.  
“I mean, people have been speculating you have a girlfriend, right?” she asked. 
“Yeah.” It was more than speculation at this point - most people knew he had someone. They just didn’t know who she was. 
“And people who found my instagram already know I’m from Nevada, so I don’t really see what the worry is.” 
He’d expected her to be more worried about it, but now that she was responding to him with cool logic, he had to admit she had a point. 
The next day, he messaged Elliott along with his agent to let them know they could keep the anecdote in the recording. 
When it hit the airwaves, Sarah purposefully didn’t check any of the messages Eunice sent her for a few days. Eunice had taken it upon herself, and continued at Sarah’s request, to report big gossip to her so Sarah wasn’t tempted to go on the blogs or fan accounts. 
Most responses were sort of victorious bragging, posting about connections with Sarah’s instagram “about me” section where she talked about being from Nevada, feeling that this interview proved them right. 
4. 
The fourth time wasn’t planned. 
When Quinn got home from their first regular season road trip, the apartment was dark. It was past two in the morning, and Sarah had a therapy appointment at eight, so she hadn't waited up for him. 
In his trek through the apartment, he paused by the dining room table. Until Sarah moved in, walking into the apartment after a road trip was often the worst part of the whole thing. He was always glad to be back in his own bed, but nothing seemed to exasperate his singleness more than coming home. Not only was he going from being surrounded by the team to being totally alone, he was coming home to an empty house. The combination of the two felt stiflingly lonely.
The mess of textbooks, highlighters, and notebooks left out on the dining room table was such proof of someone else living in the house, it made his chest feel full. 
In a spur of the moment act, he snapped a picture of the dimly lit chaos and posted it to his Instagram stories. No caption, no explanation. Just the simple proof that he wasn't alone.  
“Why did you put a picture of my books on your instagram?” she asked the next day after getting home from her appointment. 
He shrugged, “I liked it.”
The season before, anytime she would study at his house, she would clean everything up, organizing it all back into her bag before going home or coming to bed. 
Now, her books often stayed out on the dining room table on weekends. He offered to convert one of the spare bedrooms into an office for her, or let her use the office he had a computer in now, but she turned him down. 
“I like studying out here,” she'd said, glancing up to look out of the windows. “If it bothers you, I can put everything away.” 
“It doesn't bother me,” he'd said, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I just want you to be comfortable here.” 
She had beamed at him and turned her head to brush her mouth over his. 
5. 
Quinn waited until the one year anniversary of the day he and Sarah met to officially announce their relationship. 
He knew by that time that they could go the distance. He'd seen her through every month and every season and saw no major red flags. Not to mention the fact that everyone in his life liked her, and her family and friends seemed to like him.
Over the course of the year, he'd moved pictures he liked of Sarah and pictures he liked of them together into a favorites album he simply called S. So, in late January, he put together a post and sent it to his PR rep to look over. After they sent it back with some edits, he showed it to Sarah. 
Sarah, who for her part, knew this was coming but wasn’t quite sure what to expect, was taken a bit off guard. She knew Quinn read a lot and was thoughtful with his words, but reading his simple summary of their relationship made her melt. 
He’d included 5 pictures of her that were interspersed with 5 pictures of them together. The first photo was that perfect, golden hour sunset selfie. The rest were all photos she knew he loved. She’d seen some of them, and some of them, she hadn’t. There was a candid shot of her laughing with Jack and Luke that she hadn’t seen before as well as a picture she never knew he’d taken of her sitting at the dining room table with her laptop, looking pensively at the screen, fingers poised to type. There was the photo of them in front of their Christmas tree, and one of them laughing so hard, they were falling all over each other on a beach in Hawaii.
Under the photos, he’d simply written, The best year. and tagged her in the final photo - the dreamy picture Kaitlyn had taken of them under the mistletoe. 
“Quinn,” she breathed, looking up to find him smiling expectantly at her.
“You like it?” he asked. 
“I really like it,” she said, fighting back the tears that pushed at her eyes. 
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”
He was ready for the world to know that not only was he taken, he was taken with her, and not afraid to say it, but he knew it would likely open up another door of criticism she’d never been exposed to before. 
“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.” 
The fact that Quinn wanted the world to know, without a doubt, that she was the one he was with made her heart race. 
They didn’t have to hide anymore. To her, it was the last, final cementing block in their relationship. It spoke of his faith in their future and his dedication to staying with her. He wouldn't put it out for the world to see if he had any doubts. 
He posted it right before practice two days later so he could work the anxiety of it off. 
When he got back to his locker an hour and a half later, he had 1,654 likes and over 200 comments. At first glance, they all seemed positive. Not that what random strangers thought of him meant much, but it was nice to know his fans were happy he was happy. 
Bonus scene: 
On the afternoon of the anniversary of their one year of meeting, Reece stopped Sarah as she walked into the building after work.
“I’ve got a delivery for you, Ms. Roberts,” he said, walking with her over to the security desk. 
Before he’d even picked them up, Sarah knew it must be the large bouquet of flowers that were an absolute riot of color - purple and yellow, red and pink, white and green. 
Quinn was out of town - playing in Toronto at that very moment, in fact - and she knew he must have sent them in place of being there in person. 
“Thank you, Reece,” she said, accepting the flowers and a card from him before heading upstairs. 
Trying to manage the vase, card, and her school bag, as well as press the button in the elevator, resulted in her accidentally slopping a large amount of water down her front. Thankfully, the large bouquet hid the spill from anyone else in the elevator, and she was the only one to get off on the top floor. Upon entering the apartment, she set the vase and card on the bar and went straight up to change. 
It wasn’t until she wandered down to make dinner during the second intermission and saw the bright flowers that she remembered the card. 
Her full name was on the envelope in someone else’s writing, and the front of the card was completely blank, so when she flipped it open, she was surprised to find Quinn’s handwriting filling most of it. 
It’s been one year since I took refuge in the aquarium, only to stumble upon a beautiful woman giving a talk about octopus and took the chance to ask her out. Back then, I just thought she was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen. Now I know that not only is she beautiful, she’s smart, kind, supportive and so driven she inspires me to do better. I don’t like to think what my life would be like if she’d turned down my offer for lunch, or I didn’t get up the guts to talk to her. This time with her has been a whirlwind and the best year of my life. 
I wrote this for the caption of the post that went up today, then realized the only person I really wanted to read it was you. 
Happy one year of meeting, Sarah. I’m so glad you took a chance and went out with me even though I was more than a little awkward. 
I love you. 
Love, 
Quinn 
Moved to tears by his thoughtful words, Sarah snapped a picture of the flowers to put up on her stories, adding the caption, Love you, @_quinnhughes, before texting him.
I love you. I can’t believe it’s been a year. Here’s to a million more.
Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist
To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist
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v1rtualsalvat10n · 1 day ago
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𓆩♡𓆪 how to tell you goodbye
— weeks after his mysterious disappearance, lu shows up at your door with a message for you.
notes :: TW FOR DUBCON. uh yeah I find the idea of him apologizing for doing what he has to do very hot. f!reader sorry guys this is self indulgent
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You don't remember how long it's been.
But you know it'd been long enough for you to stop wondering if he was actually coming back or not, and try to cope with that fact. He was gone - there was very little doubt in your mind about that. He'd stopped responding to calls and messages, his socials went cold, his friends, at least the ones you knew, hadn't heard anything either.
He disappeared. And the last thing you ever heard from him was that he was planning on doing something... real. But he never told you what. He could be dead for all you know, and there was nothing you could do about it.
It took a pretty big toll on you. He was one of the few friends you had, and just like that he was gone. Just when things were looking up for you, your support system just had to vanish into thin air. You missed him, fuck, you missed him more than anything. You missed your little coffee shop dates, the weekend parties, playing games in your apartment when it was lonely, sitting in the park together just talking for hours.
You miss those little looks he gave you when he thought you weren't looking, the way that some of your mannerisms made him smile, the nights where your conversations would get real and you'd cry on his shoulder when it was too much for you. You miss how he'd let you.
You missed the moment when he made you look at him, and wiped your tears with his thumb, letting the tension between you two linger for longer than it should. You missed his warm, shaky breath against your cheek. But you missed the most that moment when you felt his lips on yours, just for that few seconds.
You didn't miss the way he seemed to have regretted it after.
But you remembered that the clearest of all... watching the guilt in his eyes set in as he moved away from you, standing from your couch and rushing for his bags, saying that "it was getting late" or some lie like that. You remembered how he didn't even look back at you as he walked out of your door.
And that was the last day you saw him. He texted you the next morning.
"Hey, I probably won't be able to see you for a while. Working on stuff. Gonna do something real with my life."
What the fuck did that even mean? It made you angry, irrationally so. It probably only made you angry because you thought it was your fault. But god dammit, that felt valid! You felt like you had a fair reason to be pissed. It was no secret you liked him - it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out either! He'd do something like that so carelessly, and then just throw you out?
You hated it. Maybe you'd feel better with an explanation, but the truth of the matter is that he kissed you and then mysteriously disappeared, not to be seen again. And how were you not supposed to make assumptions in that situation?
And so you'd spend your days by yourself. With no more Luigi to rely on to keep you from spiraling, you'd been curled up in your room by yourself, scrolling through his social media posts, rereading your message logs to see if there's something you'd missed.
You had a jacket of his he left at your place, and every night you'd wrap a pillow in it and breathe in the mix of cologne and his natural scent until it lulled you to sleep.
It wasn't enough. You wish he'd come back, but even if he did, what was there to say? Even if he apologized, you didn't know that you'd forgive him.
That is, until he actually did come back.
No, surely that was just wishful thinking - that knock was probably a salesman or someone stupid like that coming to bother you. You dragged yourself up from your bed and slowly approached the door, groaning to yourself before putting on a fake smile to answer it.
And sure enough, there he was. Cold and scruffy looking, his clothes ruffled and his hair matted, bags under his eyes. He pushed you inside, and slammed the door behind himself.
He kissed you again. But this time he didn't hesitate, and he wasn't gentle - he threw himself onto you, your lips messily colliding with his as he leaned into it, diving his tongue into your mouth. His hands slid down to your hips, grabbing the waistband of your sweatpants so tight it was like he might fall off the Earth if he let go.
The kiss was sloppy and desperate, and he hungrily pushed it as far as you'd let it go, which was admittedly pretty far. But then the shock faded, and you pressed your hands to his chest, shoving him back. He was weak enough that he fell back into the door, leaning against it to prevent from fully toppling over.
"What the fuck?!"
You'd never yelled at him before. Never even thought about getting upset with him. His face turned fearful, as he steadied himself and tried to walk forwards again. You took a step back for the one he took forwards.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Who do you think you are, fucking with me like this?!"
His expression shifted. He just stared at you, blankly, either too tired or too numb to show any emotion anymore. And fuck, that only made you angrier. "You think this is funny? I was worried you could be dead, and now you just- show up, months later, looking like this? Why didn't you say something? You just- just-"
"I'll explain everything. Just... I really... missed you."
"Yeah? You didn't miss me enough to at least give me a heads up that you were alive!" You hid your face in your hands, sighing deeply trying to contain yourself. What reasonable explanation could there possibly be? You couldn't reason with him surely.
You hear him step forwards, and he places his hands on your hips again. You reach down to pull him off of you, but the moment you move your hands away from your face, he's pressing more kisses to your lips. He holds you tighter, his arms wrapping around you. "Get off me," you growl, but he doesn't listen.
He kisses your neck, his warm breath shaking profusely. "Luigi," you say, and he can't even look up at you. You yank one of his hands off, only for him to put it back on you with more force than the last time. "I said get off!"
"Let me make it up to you," he begs you, his gaze meeting yours as he walked you forwards, pushing you onto the couch. You try to stand, but he's quicker, and he straddles you, hovering over you and pushing you down by your shoulders. He stops looking you in the eyes, too embarrassed at what he was doing.
"Luigi, stop! I'm trying to talk to you, god dammit!" He doesn't listen. He can't. He's already straining his jeans, grinding his hips into yours. It's warm. He's warm, and fuck, you can't lie to yourself. You missed this feeling. You missed the feeling of something real being there with you. You missed him.
Your body betrays you, and you softly rock your hips forwards into his, swearing under your breath. He smiles softly, cupping one of your hips in his hand. "It's okay. I know you missed this." He looked at you, a weird sincerity in his eyes, considering what he was actually doing.
"I'm not messing around. This- this isn't funny. Let go of me." At some point you had stopped struggling without noticing, and you squirmed again, causing him to push more of his weight down onto you. He spoke softly to you. "Shh, it's okay... It's okay, I promise I won't take long. Promise, promise."
He muttered some words in Italian, something that sounded along the lines of a prayer as he rutted into you, yanking your hips up to get more friction. "Stop it," you say again, covering your face with one of your hands.
The truth is that you'd dreamed of this moment for so long. So very long. You'd dreamed of what it would feel like when he finally touched you, his skin on yours, giving you all he had to give. But fuck, not like this, not like this-
He finished with whatever he was reciting, and slipped his fingers under your waistband, along with the one of your panties and tugged them down. You pressed your thighs together, but he was stronger than you and pushed them apart, leaving you exposed for him.
"You're beautiful..." He stared down at you, leaving a crimson shade on your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I just... I felt like I had to tell you goodbye." Your eyes widened as he said that, and you shook your head. "What are you talking about? Luigi, I'm not going anywhere. You're not going anywhere either. You don't have to do this, please-"
By the time you finished, he was already unbuckling his belt, the sound of the buckle clinking against itself making you shiver. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, rubbing himself against your folds. He was big. Bigger than you expected. Big enough that it looked like this might leave you sore.
You tried to scoot back, but he reached for you and pulled you closer than you were before, gasping at the feeling of your wetness against his cock. He'd longed for this forever, maybe even since the moment he'd first laid eyes on you. It felt like heaven to him, despite how dirty he felt - despite the fact that he knew it was wrong.
Something about you looking down on him for this only made him harder.
He lined himself up with your entrance and parted you with just his tip, his nails sinking into your hips as he did. "Fuck," he whimpered, "I'm so sorry, amore."
And with that, he slid into you slowly. You sighed in relief, only to cry out when he was so overwhelmed by pleasure that he slammed himself into you as deep as he could manage, rolling his hips into you.
Fuck. You could feel him pressing against your cervix. His breath shook as he panted heavily, shutting his eyes tightly as he pulled out nearly all the way, only to slam back into you. He swore, leaving bruises on your sides from how hard he was holding you. It hurt but you didn't care.
He kept up this brutal force, moving all the way out just so he could thrust deep into you again. It took him a while to speed up just because he was so overstimulated by it. But when he did, he fucked you like a wild animal, slamming his hips into yours, the obscene sound of his skin hitting yours filling your apartment.
You looked up at him, who still had his eyes closed out of shame. You couldn't help but imagine what he saw behind his eyelids, what he was imagining as he fucked you in earnest. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he fought against them. "I'm sorry," he muttered, over and over again. He couldn't stop apologizing.
"It's- it's okay, it's okay... fuck-! I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you... oh god..."
That was too much for him. Your acceptance, that unconditional love of yours, the fact that he could do this, and you would still understand, pushed him over, and tears streamed down his cheeks.
His hands frantically slid up your sides as he leaned down onto you, both your chests pressed together, getting as much of his skin on yours as possible. He ran his fingers up and down you, committing every hill and valley to memory. "I'm sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you. I promise you. I promise."
He kept mindlessly apologizing as he used you, controlled by his own need. There was no stopping him now, and you didn't want to. He was beautiful even like this, even at his lowest point. You knew that you loved him in this moment.
"I'm gonna cum, please, please... I'm sorry, I need it, please, baby-" He kept babbling through his tears, which fell onto your cheeks. You closed your eyes softly, leaning into his touch, pressing your lips to his.
He devoured you in an instant, the kiss deeper than before, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his release. "Perdonami, ti prego," he begged, speaking inbetween breaths.
"Lu," you cooed. "Go ahead. It's alright."
As soon as you commanded him, his eyes shot open and he threw his head back as he rammed into your cervix, spilling himself deep inside of you, his body shaking as he did. You tightened around him, the feeling of him finally letting himself go enough to make you cum too, as you called out his name.
He stayed tensed up over you for a moment, his arms struggling to hold his weight as his eyes shut, and he collapsed on top of you, his face in your chest. He started to sob, gripping you tight, one of his hands going down to entangle with yours. "I'm so sorry, amore," he repeated, over and over, "I'm sorry"s falling from his lips.
You pressed him closer, free hand stroking his hair softly as he crumbled in your arms. "It's okay. I forgive you."
"Please don't hold it against me."
"We'll figure it out, okay, Lu? We'll figure it out, together. Me and you. Because I love you."
"I love you too.... No matter what happens, remember that I love you."
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umathurwin · 2 days ago
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get what i want ’cause i ask for it (not because i’m really that deserving of it)
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rafe cameron x f!reader; nsfw 18+
Summary: Rafe is so close to receiving the CEO title of his father’s company, he can taste it. But before he can have his dream job, he has to complete the most grueling task he’s ever been given: watch over the bratty heiress of their partner company, who’s decided to make his life hell.
He’s persistent. But so is she.
A/N: tags, warnings, and more on ao3!
“So,” Rafe started, striding into his father’s office and getting way too comfortable in the chair. Ward’s clients would expect nothing less than Memory Foam under their pompous asses, of course– how could you not sink down and kick your feet on the desk? “What’s next for me? Corner office with big windows? Company Lexus? A solid-gold bathroom?”
“I’ll be frank. What the hell are you talking about?”
“When I’m CEO of Cameron Development. Duh. I’ve been hearing the rumors about Maurice retiring, and you’re gonna need someone to fill his role…”
“Easy . You haven’t even been working here a whole year,” Ward reminded him, smacking the peppermint gum Rafe hated. “And your office has big windows!”
“I’m just being cliche. It’s the title that I really want, Dad.”
“Why should I give it to you, though? You’re barely even old enough to be out of college, if you’d gone.”
It stung, when his father reminded him that he hadn’t gone to school. He swallowed anyway. “Don’t need to, not with my work ethic. I take the job you gave me really seriously. All the departments love me, we’ve had great numbers the last three quarters, I’ve secured five deals that we’ve missed out on in the past,” he ticked off. “Tell me why you shouldn’t give it to me.”
Ward leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen on the desk rapidly. “Okay, you’re right. I agree. And I actually think I have something in mind that’ll really prove to me you’re worthy of totally running this company with the CEO title.”
Rafe all but purred. “Name it.”
“I should warn you, this is… probably gonna be the ultimate test of how loyal you are to Cameron Development.”
“Jesus, am I gonna have to fight a Jedi, or something?”
“Remember when I ran errands when you were younger, and you acted like it was inhumane torture to watch Sarah for 45 minutes?”
He sulked, already rubbing at the space between his eyebrows. “Oh God. You hired her, too, didn’t you? And here I thought my job was a special offer. Are you giving one to my cousin Tristan, too? Y’know he sits down when he pees?”
“I’m not hiring your sister. Or… your cousin,” Ward sighed. “We have a huge offer coming up soon. We’re teaming up with Kerrington Design to build on the northern side of the island, meaning we’d have properties in every zone. I cannot stress enough how important this bid is, Rafe. Josephine Kerrington will be working with us for the next month or so while we iron out details.”
“This all sounds great so far,” Rafe said. “Where do I come in?”
“Josephine mentioned that she was bringing her young daughter, and that she doesn’t feel comfortable with her being alone. I offered for you to watch over her while she’s here.”
“What?!”
“Look, I know you—”
“Hate dealing with kids? Yeah, I do,” he groaned. “Dad, you realize I have actual work to do around here? I have that O’Brien meeting coming up! How am I supposed to get stuff done with someone playing Webkinz in my office?”
“You love Webkinz.”
“Good Lord. Sure, when I was six!”
“Like I said before,” Ward started, tone carrying a warning out to his son that matched his tilted head, “this is an ultimate test. I’m counting on you to be a good babysitter.” Ward’s phone trilled, forcing a wince onto Rafe’s face, and the older man leaned forward to glance at the screen. “Ah. That’s her now. They’ll be arriving today, so be on the lookout for them, eh?”
Rafe stood up, smoothing out his pants. “Yeah, well, if there’s gonna be a child on the premises, I’m getting a cup of coffee right now.”
“Probably a good idea,” Ward conceded lowly, waving his son out of his office. “Mrs. Kerrington, good morning, it’s so great to hear from you…”
Rafe stepped out and went to the floor’s coffee station, noting an unfamiliar young woman getting herself a cup from the stack of thick cardboard. The company rarely hired people under the age of 25, so he was pleasantly surprised to see someone his own age.
“Morning,” he greeted to get her to turn around, and fuck, she was cute. “I don’t recognize you. New here?”
“You could say that,” the girl cocked her head a little. “Do you know every person who works here?”
He smiled. “Oh, I do a lot of paperwork on all levels. Surely I would’ve remembered you.”
She returned his grin. “You’re sweet. I’m Y/N.”
“My name’s Rafe. Your morning been good so far?”
“So far,” she repeated him in response, returning to her empty cup. “How about yourself?”
“Fine. Just dreading later,” he sighed, reaching behind the supplies in the cabinet to find the mug he’d hidden back there.
She made a little humming noise. “Why? What’s later?”
“Ah, nothing, I just have to babysit some CEO’s daughter for a few weeks. I hope to God I’ll be able to get any work done with a kid running around here, but I’ve got a little sister. I think I’ll be fine.”
The girl nodded, a little slowly to be seen as normal, but she was cute enough that he brushed it off. His eyes trailed down to where she was about to pour the coffee into her cup and he reached out to hold her wrist and stop her actions. “Wait, whoa!”
She gasped, jumping back. “Hey, watch it!” she shook her head, pouring her cup while still a few feet away from him. “It’s hot coffee, dude. What’s your deal?”
“If you pour the powder creamer first, it dissolves when you pour the coffee in,” he explained, shaking his head. “Too late now. You shoulda listened to me.”
“Well, it really doesn’t matter when y’all have thousands of these,” she reached for a coffee stirrer. “You micromanage a lot of shit around here, or am I special?”
He scoffed. “I practically run this place, sweetheart. You should be thanking me for bestowing my wisdom on you. Now, don’t you have something, I dunno, administrative to do?”
“Administrative?” the girl parroted, setting down the stirrer. Her tone was amused, but her eyebrows were still in her hairline. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk to women like that?”
“My step-mother,” he corrected, “is a useless witch. So, no.”
Her mouth fell open. “I guess this company is run by an absolute pig.”
He clenched his jaw. Who is this girl, and how dare she speak to him like that? “You better watch how you talk to me before I–”
“Rafe!” Ward called, interrupting his son’s threat and joining the two young adults at the coffee bar. “I see you’ve already met your partner for the next few weeks. How are you, Miss Kerrington?” he turned to warmly address her, reaching out to take her hand politely and shake it. He either didn’t notice the horrific tension between them or was desperately trying to cut it.
The girl smiled. “I’m doing just fine, Mr. Cameron.”
“Please, call me Ward,” he insisted, stepping aside to grab a cardboard cup.
Rafe finally found his voice. “So, Josephine Kerrington…” he started, anxiously looking between her and his father.
“Is my mother,” Y/N finished, tilting her head smugly. “Rafe, was it? Why don’t you show me to your office?”
***
He tried to keep his back straight as he showed her where he worked, and she looked around nosily the second she was inside. While she snooped around his belongings and photos, he took another look at her.
She was wearing a lavender floral dress that was just too short to be considered professional, though those rules clearly didn’t apply to her. When she spun back around to look at him, he had to snap his gaze back up quickly to not reveal he’d been staring at her ass.
“So, Y/N,” he started sheepishly. She set her coffee on the table and he ran over to put a coaster under it. “I think we got off on the wrong foot—“
“Water under the bridge,” she interrupted. “Could you Airdrop the Wifi?”
Rafe stared at her face, expecting her to burst out laughing at him. “I understand all of those words, separately.”
She sighed. “You have wireless internet here, no?”
“We do.”
“And I assume it’s password protected?”
“That’d be a correct assumption.”
“And I also bet it’s harder to type than ‘cameronwifi’?”
He scrunched his face. “It’s some combination of letters and numbers, so yeah.”
She pressed her lips together. “Figured. Open up contacts on your phone.”
Rafe obeyed, though he didn’t know why. Curiosity, maybe? She put in her number then guided him to the Wifi tab and held her phone up. The password to the internet auto-filled on her device and she was already skipping away to use it.
“What? I don’t get a ‘thank you’?” he snorted, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“Why? You didn’t even do anything!” She flopped on the couch. “Feel free to text me, now that you’ve got my number.”
He scoffed. “Are you hitting on me?”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Yeah right, nerd. If I did hit on you, I’d probably comment on your Marlon Brando slicked hair. Heavy gel, in this decade, it’s a sexy and modern choice.”
There was no holding back now. “You’re a brat.”
“Get used to it.”
“Why should I? It’s not like you do anything.”
“You say that like I’m not important.”
“Of course you’re not important here. You—You don’t even have a title!”
“Ah, that’s just not true,” she corrected. “I’m a CTA. Chief Tactics Associate.”
Rafe rubbed at his forehead. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means what I say, goes.”
He snickered. “Is that so?”
“Glad you find it funny. Why do you think I’m even here? My opinion means a lot to my mother, and if I run to her and tell her I don’t like how things are run at your company, she’ll pick up her business and run to the next development firm that’s eagerly waiting to spring properties up on the island.”
Rafe’s stomach turned. With how important this deal was to Ward, she really had the upper hand on him. “Fine. Just stay out of my way while I work, and we should get along alright.”
A smile curled up on her face. “I’ll try my best, sir.”
***
She did not.
When confronted by his son, Ward was not sympathetic. He eventually gave a half-hearted apology but not before bursting out laughing in Rafe’s face. His only defense was something like, “Josephine’s exact words were ‘young daughter’. How was I supposed to know she’s able to vote?”
“I sure love finding you in my office all the time,” Rafe announced sardonically to the girl lying on his comfy leather couch watching loud Tik Toks.
He knew why she hovered, of course. Even if his father hadn’t twisted his arm into watching her, he was one of the few people in the building within ten years of her age. It made sense that she’d linger around him, even if she was a nuisance most of the time.
She didn’t look up from her phone. “It has the best view. Big windows.” She reached into her shirt, dipped into her bra and pulled out what looked like a USB until she brought it to her mouth and sucked.
Rafe reached down to snatch it from her hand and stuck it in his lapel pocket. “Not in my office.”
She waved her hand around annoyedly, letting the tiny wisps of smoke escape from her lips. “Vibe killer. I’ve got another one at home.”
“I’m sure you do,” he muttered, sniffing the air. “Wait. Is this mint? They don’t make JUUL pods in that flavor anymore.”
“I get ‘em from Europe,” she explained impatiently.
He huffed. “How stupid of me,” he noted before stalking over to his computer. He looked around his desk and noticed things were not as he left them. “Goddamnit, quit messing around with my stuff! I’ve told you before, I care ab–” he stopped himself, and the pause actually garnered her attention.
Rafe picked up a stack of documents and inspected them carefully. “Wait. These are the quarterly verification logs?”
“I know what they are. Title at the top and everything.”
“Y/N, I’ve been trying to get these back from credentialing for months. I email them twice a day, they don’t even blink at me. Is this what you did during my meeting?”
“Yeah. I saw you typing one up earlier, so I paid their department a little visit when I was bored. Can I have my JUUL back as a prize?”
Rafe laughed. “I thought you had another one at home.”
“You called my bluff.”
He rolled his eyes, but still reached into his jacket and tossed her the stick. She caught it and took another rip, looking behind him and shaking her head wistfully. “Just imagine what else you could get done if you had a pair of tits to weaponize with every half-witted employee you have crawling around here.”
Hmm. Maybe he didn’t have to imagine.
***
His least favorite part of what he did was dealing with the shareholders, by far.
He gets it. A critical part of the job was kissing rich ass despite them knowing the least about what’s best for the company, because money makes the world go round. But the meetings he was forced to sit in on were like pulling teeth, and every minute he sat in those rooms was a performance. He nodded along, looked over papers and presentations, pretended not to notice the older men had no idea where they were, and shook hands until they slapped their thighs and announced it was time to head out.
Today, the meeting ran over, because none of those antiquated bastards have any concept of time. His skin itched, watching the clock tick minute after minute when he should already be getting back to work. When they finally noticed, Rafe pretended to receive a critical phone call to escape without dealing with their falsely pleasant goodbyes.
Rafe rested his forehead on his office door before going inside. For a moment, he forgot everything that was going on in his life, and prepared himself to enjoy the rest of the day in peace and quiet.
Except, he couldn’t, because Y/N was sitting in his chair, feet kicked up on his desk, with one of his lollipops in her mouth. He deflated, walking over to see what she was doing. Rafe groaned when his eyes landed on a coloring book and some crayons in her lap, and was especially peeved that she was too focused on Aurora’s hair to look up at him.
“What are you, five?” he sneered, picking up a completed Ursula and Ariel sheet off his desktop. “That’s you,” he said, pointing to the villainous witch.
Y/N’s eyes flicked up annoyedly and she took the sucker out, letting it clack on her teeth. “Yeah, and you’re so mature.” Without breaking eye contact, she placed the glistening lollipop right on his desk.
“Damnit, you–,” he sputtered, picking up the candy and remorsefully throwing it away. He swiped at the wet spot that remained and brought his fingers to his lips without thinking. It looked like the wood was too dark to show a stain anyways. “You win. Just, please get up.”
She waved around to the many empty chairs in his office. “Sit somewhere else.”
“It’s my office,” he scoffed. “Get up. Or you can sit in my lap, if you want,” Rafe added with a smirk.
Y/N grimaced. “Do I need to go to HR?”
“Best of luck with that, doll. The Lead HR lady is my godmother.”
She paused her coloring to look up at him. “Tell me, is there anyone in this building you don’t have a familial relation to?”
“Our CTA.”
“You’re funny.”
“I know. That’s why I thought you’d jump on the offer to sit on my lap.” She ignored him again, returning to coloring the pink dress. Rafe glanced at the stack of manila envelopes on his desk and an idea popped into his head. “Say, has my father shown you the mail room here?”
She lifted an eyebrow–he almost laughed at how easy she was to entertain. “Mail room?��
He nodded. “Yeah, real shiny place. There’s tubes all over the building that we shoot letters into that all lead to the mail room downstairs. It’s a really cool set-up, and I think you’d like it.” He looked at his desk again, feigning surprise. “Oh, hey! And these need to be sent out anyways. They don’t fit in the chutes, so you have an excuse to snoop around there.” He picked up the stack and held them out to her, fully expecting her to snort and tell him to shove them up his ass. It’s what his sister would do.
But to his complete surprise, she nodded wordlessly and set her colors down. She took the envelopes and skipped out of the office on a mission.
Shit. Maybe he could make this work.
***
Two hours later, Rafe burst out of his own office, crashing right into his father.
“Hey, I was just coming to check on you,” he greeted before noticing Rafe’s sour expression. “Whoa, what’s wrong?” Ward asked, holding out a hand to his son’s chest to slow him down.
“Oh, nothing. Just that Y/N painted her nails in my room earlier,” he huffed. Likely because she wanted to cover up the scent of her dab pen, he really wanted to add on. “I made her count reams of paper to make her leave, but the room still smells like chemicals. Getting a migraine.”
“Did you open a window?”
“No, Dad, and I also didn’t try spraying Febreze, so don’t ask,” he snapped.
Ward pressed his lips together, eyebrows lifting softly. “Come sit in my office for a little?” he offered.
Rafe nodded, pressing the up button himself. His phone in his pocket chirped to indicate a text message, but he didn’t move. The phone buzzed over and over, beeping so many times that they were cutting themselves off.
Ward blinked. “Gonna check that?”
“Nope. I know it’s just Y/N.”
“Why is she sending you so many texts?”
“I made the mistake of giving her my number in case she needed anything. Now, she sends me fifty iMessage games if I’m not paying attention to her.” The elevator doors opened again to the top floor. “Dad, you don’t realize. She’s the most annoying pest I’ve ever had to deal with.”
“Worse than your sister?”
Rafe hesitated. “She gives her a run for her money.”
***
Y/N bounded up to Rafe the following day, looking from the phone nestled in the crook of his neck to where the cord led back to the desk. She brought a freshly pink-tipped finger to the hook switch and pressed it, ending his call.
“I got the signatures from the guys in accounting,” she announced, pulling the papers out to show him. “Have you actually seen them? They are literally the palest people I’ve ever met.”
Rafe sputtered with anger, slamming the phone back in the cradle. “You didn’t have to do that! I was on hold with a stupid robot.”
“I wanted your undivided attention,” she shrugged.
He massaged at his temples. “Whatever. Thank you for the signatures, I suppose. Say, are you having any trouble with the Wifi?”
To his dismay, her face brightened. “Oh, right! I wanted to ask IT if you can change the password for only the router in your office, and the answer is yes,” she giddily explained, pointing to the white box pinned to the ceiling above her.
“Um, okay. What’s the new password?”
“It’s ‘misskerringtonlovesanal420’, no caps, no spaces.”
He sighed. “Are you serious?”
“Well, I’ve never actually tried doing it. But I wanted to see if I could make the IT guy squirm and he totally–”
“I meant, is it seriously the password?” he stopped her, tired of being reminded that every touch-starved man on the premises was at the sheer whim of this girl.
“See for yourself.”
Click click click. “Ugh, really?”
“Tell me you wouldn’t do this shit if you had the freedom to.”
He didn’t respond to that. It seemed he’d have to try a little harder to keep the girl busy and out of trouble. Rafe slipped a hand into his lapel pocket and pulled out a folded $20, extending it out for her. “If I give you this, will you go to the cafeteria downstairs and get us both turkey sandwiches?”
She took the money and slipped it in her bra, already on her way out. “Yes, but we’re getting rotisserie chicken. They’re so much better.”
“Wait, I want turkey!” he called after her.
“Too bad!”
***
Rafe woke up late.
He’d spent the last week working double time to make sure Y/N stayed out of trouble and his normal tasks were fulfilled. It was no wonder that at some point he’d break and the back-up Pinball alarm would fail him. Why the fuck this had to happen the morning of his O’Brien meeting, he’ll never know.
He ran into his building in such a hurry he felt the soles of his shoes wearing down. He didn’t stop for the doorman, the HR intern, and sure as shit not for his father, who all tried to strike up a conversation.
“Dad, please, I can’t talk right now,” Rafe huffed out to the last one, clicking the elevator button over and over. “I’m super late to a meeting with–”
“This is slightly more important,” Ward insisted. “There was a cyber attack. IT is taking care of it, but something got in through our Wifi, and our emails have been a mess all d–”
“Wait,” Rafe interrupted, ignoring the car arriving at the ground floor. “You said the Wifi?”
“Well, yeah. They said there was a leak at our security company, and any routers with passwords that haven’t been reset in the last month were affected. They’re routinely reset four times a year, so we just got unlucky.”
Rafe was so stunned he had to be pulled onto the elevator by his father. “Is everything alright?”
He tossed around what to do here. If he admitted Y/N dicking around had accidentally protected his router, he’d run the risk of exposing not only how he’d been getting her to do his work but also how he really hadn’t been monitoring her too strictly. Hell, she could’ve done the opposite and totally fucked over their security if she wasn’t careful.
“Yes, actually, I was having trouble and changed my own router last week,” he lied, words fumbling out in a jittery string. “Guess I just got lucky. God, how is this elevator so slow?”
Ward raised his eyebrow at his bouncy son. “Is everything alright?”
“O’Brien meeting in negative two minutes,” he shouted, looking at his watch and slipping through the crack between the barely-open doors. “Damn Irish.”
“It’s funny because we’re actually Scottish!” his father called after him, but Rafe really didn’t care.
He threw open the doors to his own office and waved off a dazed Y/N to run behind his desk. “Hey, Bossman,” she greeted him, clearly oblivious to the rush he was in. “I had a great idea for us to do.”
Rafe dug through his desk drawers, sorting through Sharpies and Post-Its looking for the USB drive holding the O’Brien floor plans. “Lemme get back to you on that.”
“Are you sure? It’ll only take a minute.”
“Y/N, I can’t right now. I’ve got a meeting that I’m already late for, and it’s really important that I–”
“Oh, that? I moved it.”
He halted in his tracks, blood colder than ice. “You moved my meeting with the O’Briens?!” he asked, wiping sweat off his forehead.
“Yeah,” she answered bubbly. “I wanted to get a chocolate croissant at that bakery down the street but they close early in the day, so I called and asked those guys if they’d be okay with the same time tomorrow. All I had to do was say it conflicted with Kerrington business, and they were cool with it. Ready to go?”
Rafe was… fucking flabbergasted. Not only did she take it upon herself to move a career-altering meeting without his permission over a fucking baked good, but she’d used her name to persuade the O’Briens into compliance. He thought back to the wifi– she’d just unintentionally saved his ass, twice, in the same fucking day.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I looked at your calendar first. You’re not busy.”
He couldn’t help himself. Rafe lunged forward, taking her face into his hands and planting a big kiss on her lips. She made a surprised squeak before relaxing into his touch and returning the favor.
When he pulled away, her eyes were still shut for two seconds too long. “Yeah, I could go for a Kouign-amann. After you,” he said, waving his hand out to the door.
***
Rafe had just finished the yellow cross on his Rubik’s cube when his father knocked on the door of his office. He waved him in with two fingers but went right back to diligently solving his puzzle.
“Where is Y/N?” Ward asked, taking a seat in front of his son’s desk.
“Out to lunch with her mother.”
“And you didn’t go with her?” he teased.
This got Rafe to look up from the cube, but he still shot his father an exasperated glare. Not only did that sound like a nightmare and a half, he was a little uneasy about being around her.
He’d acted a little rash yesterday when he was pumped full of adrenaline and stress, he’ll admit it– though, if he had made her uncomfortable with the kiss, she didn’t act like it. She went right back to the hellion force of nature she was before (like forcing him to play 20 Questions with her, and when the person was revealed to be Ghandi, going on a long rant about his problematic behavior as if she hadn’t chosen the man herself). Kinda why he was enjoying the rare peace and quiet he just lost.
“Why’d you stop by?” A much more pleasant way of saying why oh why are you in my office and what’s the quickest way I can get you out.
“At some point I want you to complete the follow-up for the Carroll’s. I know they’re a-holes, so feel free to not put this high on your priority list. I could care less if it gets done by the end of the week, if I’m being honest.”
“Oh, so you haven’t been honest before?” Rafe snapped, getting too frustrated and slamming the Rubik’s cube back down on the desk. “And you mean you couldn’t care less,” he tacked on.
Ward pursed his lips together and tried to hold back a snort. “Okay, let’s make a deal. I won’t use either of those phrases anymore, and you quit taking out your annoyance with Y/N on me.”
“Not really fair, since her antagonism in my life is very much your fault.”
“C’mon, you’ve been doing a great job so far! Is she that hard to get along with?” Ward sighed. “She’s a cute girl who could charm birds out of trees and y’know, she reminds me a lot of you.”
Rafe winced. “That’s the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Oh, hush. You’re both hardworking, loyal, and heirs, obviously.”
“How is she hardworking? All she does is traipse around the office and make messes for me to clean up.”
“Really? Because, from what I’ve heard around the office, you’ve turned her into your little administrative assistant. Are you sure that’s what Mrs. Kerrington wants?”
“I don’t know what Mrs. Kerrington wants!” he groaned, rubbing at his forehead. “If you didn’t notice, she kind of dropped a teenager off at my doorstep and made me figure out how to balance watching her and work.”
“She’s an adult,” Ward muttered, sinking down in the chair.
“Those are not mutually exclusive,” Rafe snapped back, then shook his head. He leaned forward and started working on the Rubik’s cube again. “Whatever. I’m over it. Not really, but I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” His eyes darted up to the clock on his wall. “You’ve got a Zoom call with the West Coast in ten minutes, anyways.”
Ward checked his watch and jumped up when he realized his son was correct.
***
“How did you even manage to get into my computer?!” Rafe shouted, slamming his hands on his desk and standing up.
“Your password was literally your last name and birth year, doll,” she explained, far too casual for someone who hadn’t just turned his entire desktop set-up to various shades of pink and purple. He didn’t fail to notice how she was picking up on his mannerisms these last few weeks. “And the password hint was ‘name and year’. Have you ever taken a computer safety class in your life?”
“Stop talking to me like I deserve to have you snooping around my stuff! Change it back!”
“Absolutely not. How could you work with it before? It was so dull and… default settings.”
Rafe scrubbed his face with his hands, realizing it didn't relax him at all. “I am genuinely so tired of your presence,” he admitted, waving a hand and trying not to clench it in a fist when she giggled at him. “I’m serious! You constantly get in the way. I don’t even know why I put up with you.”
“Because my say is the last stop in this agreement, and you’re in charge of keeping me happy.”
He grimaced at the reminder. “Right. You’re the gleaming epitome of nepotism. I get it.”
She all but gasped. “Are you joking? And just what does that make you?”
“Hey, I actually work here. I’ve put in effort to get where I am.”
She barked out a laugh. “Yeah. And I’m sure daddy had nothing to do with it.”
“I’m on the Board of Directors here!”
“Which your father also assembled!” she shouted, then shook her head with a smile. “Actually, y’know what? I get it now. You hate me because I’m you.”
He spat at the assumption. “We are completely different.”
“No, we’re not. We’re both spoiled nepotism babies who overvalue our importance. I just don’t give enough of a fuck to lie about it. Tell me, do you hate seeing yourself when you look at me? Is that it?”
Rafe exhaled heavily through his nose, trying to refrain from storming out and knocking over a vase on his way out. “Is there any particular reason you’re always such a pain to me and an angel around everyone else?”
Y/N raised herself up on her tiptoes to (unsuccessfully) get closer to his height. “Because I like making mean guys suffer. And because you’re so cute when you’re mad.”
“And you’re just cute enough to get my shit done for me.”
Yeah, that was fucking dumb to say. Her jaw dropped the moment the words regretfully tumbled off his tongue and not even slapping his hand over his mouth could save him.
“Wait, that’s what you’ve been doing? You were using me to get your fucking work done?”
“Y/N, no, I–”
“And just when I thought we were kind of getting along for a minute. Do you think I’m just a tool for you to use?”
Kind of. His mouth hung open dumbly for too many moments, because she scoffed in disgust and pushed past him.
He called at her and tried to grab her arm, but she yanked away again. “If you follow me, I’m telling my mom what a chauvinistic louse you are.”
Rafe waited for the mischievous grin to creep on her face, but it didn’t. She was cold. He’d fucked up.
In immaculate timing, a new secretary hire knocked on the barely open door of his office. “Mr. Cameron? Miss Kerrington? The board meeting starts in four minutes,” the intern informed the two, just poking his head in enough to get the words out before disappearing.
She huffed one more time, spinning around and marching out of the room. He was conflicted, since he was mandated to be at the meeting but was terrified of pissing her off. He chased her down the halls, wanting to at least be present for his own damnation.
He only caught up to her just as she joined the groups of execs, far too late for him to attempt to stop her again. He held his breath as he watched her take her seat next to her mother. His face was hot, waiting for her to spill the beans and get his ass in immense trouble.
She… didn’t, though. She just sat down, looked at her phone under the desk, and shifted in the chair to get comfortable.
“Rafe? You alright?” he heard, and he looked down to see his dad waving him towards the table. “Let’s get this started.”
***
“And to recap, these are the outsourcing companies we plan to use. Contracts are already underway…” Mr. Henthorn droned. Or… Hawthorn. Who gives a crap.
“Why isn’t Upwards Lumber on this list anymore?” Josephine asked. “I thought we agreed on them in our earlier phases.”
Ward hesitated, looking around to his team before answering. “Well, last week we were informed Upwards wasn’t able to handle projects of this size anymore.”
Josephine’s eyes narrowed. “I thought they worked with the Ambetter building downtown?”
“They did. But apparently a year and a half ago, they were heavily audited and half their workers were laid off due to failed drug screenings. Upwards is really only able to handle small commercial projects until they rebuild their crew.”
Drug screens are just elitist, targeting bullshit, Rafe thought, and Ward looked over with a stern blink as though he could read his son’s mind. Probably not the time to be making any kind of statement anyways.
Josephine stiffened. “Well. Bullet dodged, I suppose. Kerrington doesn’t tolerate drug use of any kind, at any level.”
Ward agreed with her imperative demand, but Rafe had to hide a smirk behind his fist. It was one thing for Y/N to obnoxiously hit her JUUL in his office, but if mommy saw the dab cart that sometimes stuck out of her bag, it’d be a little harder to explain.
He looked up to Y/N. Sure, she was fuming and likely going to snitch on him any minute now, but she still had a sense of humor, so he expected to share at least a moment of amused, knowing eye contact. To his surprise, though, she was completely slumped down in the chair. Her gaze was down on the table and she picked at her fingernails, hiding from everyone else in the room. Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed, and he looked over to Josephine, who was shooting her daughter a fiery glare.
The daughter who was a bratty, uncontrollable mess. The one who had pretty condemnatory dirt on Rafe and, knowing her character, was being oddly silent about it. The one who’d been dropped off for him to essentially babysit for the last few excruciating weeks.
Babysit.
The pieces assembled themselves in his brain so quickly he nearly got vertigo in the swivel chair. That’s why he’s had to fucking watch her this whole time– because she needed watching. No wonder she didn’t snitch on Rafe for whoring her out for paperwork. She was never there for him to entertain and keep happy; he just had to make sure she wasn’t sneaking off to do drugs. And really, he hadn’t done a great job at it.
He didn’t bother beating himself up, since his directions were incredibly unclear and he’d been expecting to watch a fourth grader to begin with. Regardless, the tension in the room was palpable and the respective girl’s face had already turned a burning pink.
The moment the meeting was over, Y/N did the least annoying thing she’d done since the first day she stepped into the building. She stood up, stormed out of the meeting room, and disappeared for the rest of the day.
***
Showing up to the office in the dark had a much different energy than during the daytime. The area was quite nice, so it wasn’t like she felt particularly unsafe going in, but without the doorman greeting her and pulling open the massive front door, something felt off.
Although, it was nice that no one was there to watch her vomit in the receptionist’s trash can. Helena would be pissed come Monday morning, but Y/N was currently more concerned with how much better she felt after getting that out of her system.
Muscle memory is the only thing that got her in the elevator and pushing the right button. When she reached the desired floor, a wave of his aftershave and cigarette smoke hit her nose. She floated on the scent, lost in the way it wrapped around her, until it carried her right into the office of the man she was looking for.
Of course, she didn’t barge in. Rafe didn’t notice her arrival right away so she remained in the shadows to watch him work. It was outlandish, how attractive he was—he was focused hard on some stack of papers with one hand scrubbing at his temple and the other occasionally taking the cigarette that rested between his lips and ashing it. The smoke escaped his mouth in aggravated sighs, curling around his head before disappearing into the room. He’d cracked open a window in some attempt to hide the smell, but it only breezed its way into the hall. This close, it wasn’t even nauseating, but more like a cologne.
From her spot, she could see that he’d unbuttoned some of his shirt to reveal his lean chest. It was strange, seeing some indicator that he was capable of relaxing. He’d had a stick up his ass since the day she met him, so imagining him exhausted and popping the top few buttons on his shirt was almost… endearing.
Her balance was, as expected, not up to par. She leaned a little too far one way, and before she knew it, she stumbled right into the light as well as Rafe’s eyeline. He called her name confusedly, and when her head snapped up, she caught him stubbing out the cig as he stood.
“It’s cute,” she noted, nodding at the ashtray and trying not to trip over her own feet as she got back up. “You, putting out the cigarette. Like I don’t smoke in your office when you’re not here.”
Rafe waved his hands around and tossed the window open even further. “Lighting a cigarette is more serious than hitting your stupid Brass Knuckles pen. What are you doing here so late?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“I work here,” he bit back. His gaze trailed down her body, taking in her immodest party dress and heels. “I see when you go out, you wear even less than you do at work. Astonishing.”
“I can wear even less, if you’d like.”
His eyes narrowed, and he ignored her flirting. She was speaking far too quickly and clearly to be just drunk. Rafe took a step forward and inspected her eyes. Sure enough, her pupils were blown wide to accompany her pink cheeks. “You didn’t only drink, did you?”
Y/N’s lips curled up gently. “Would you be mad if I didn’t?”
“Of course not, sweetheart, but…” he straightened her clothes and made sure she was okay otherwise, “were you planning on going home like this?”
She shook her head. “I was out with my friend Mona and figured I’d crash at her place. Which I was going to do, until I noticed I was near your office and decided to pay a visit.”
He sighed. “Well, I’ve got to get you home safely.”
Her eyes flew to the back of her head. “What’re you, my dad?”
Rafe bristled. “No, but mine is in the building, and so is your ball-gripping mother. We kinda need to get you the fuck out of here.”
She scoffed. “Yeah, they’re not on this floor, though. That’s why you felt comfortable doing this.” Y/N reached into his lapel pocket and pulled out a solid red Bic lighter. She brought her thumb up and spun the dial, sparking it just a little too close to their faces.
He annoyedly snatched the lighter out of her hands. “Why did you come here?”
She bounced up on the tips of her toes and pulled at the back of his neck for a kiss. It felt good, charged, but his rational brain pushed her away immediately. She pouted.
“Y/N, stop. We absolutely cannot do that.” He wasn’t sure how to finish his sentence, but a Rolodex of options cycled through his mind. Because you’re barely 18 and I’m about to be 22. Because I’m basically your babysitter. Because our parents would kill us. Because you look like you’ve taken both cocaine and molly and it seems you’ve forgotten you were quite mad at me eight hours ago. Because the charge I would catch would be astronomical. Take your pick.
“Why not? We’ve kissed before. I thought it was a good kiss. I think about it a lot. Don’t you?” She still had a firm grip on the nape of his neck, so she toyed with the hair that brushed against her fingers.
Rafe weighed his options, quickly doing the math of when she’d probably started partying to when it should wear off and she’d crash. “Of course I do,” he admitted, honestly, because there’s a chance she’d forget half of this night anyways. “But not here. Is it alright if we go to my place?”
She smiled, letting her hand fall around his shoulder and down his chest. “You don’t still live with daddy, huh?”
He let out a soft laugh, reaching behind himself to grab his wallet and keys. “Nope. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
***
By Rafe’s estimation, she only had about five more minutes of hyperactivity before she crashes and the alcohol takes over her system. She’ll lose interest in trying to get in his pants, and want nothing more than a warm bed, which Rafe conveniently had to spare. His apartment was seven minutes away, so the timing should work out perfectly.
But that didn’t mean she was going to make it easy for him.
She was relentless. Playing with his tie in the office elevator, winking at him when he opened the car door for her, reaching to rub his thigh while he pulled out of the garage onto the streets. He couldn’t very well stop her without revealing his plans to dump her off and go right back to work, but holy fuck she was making it really hard to focus on driving.
Getting her inside his apartment was easy enough, like she was trying to remain casual in public. As soon as they were inside, all bets were off and she was back to being the horny brat she was in the car.
He got her in one of the guest rooms, and she seemed oblivious to his attempts to get her asleep. Y/N tried pawing at his clothes, but he stopped her, taking her wrists with a tight grip. “Ah-ah. Listen to me,” he ordered, and she obeyed with an impatient sulk. “I have some questions. Can you answer me, sweetheart?”
Y/N nodded impatiently, and he smiled when she held a long blink. A good sign.
Rafe guided her backwards, switching her wrists into only one of his hands. “Which of your friends does your mom like the best?”
She froze. “I– what?”
His now-free hand came up to stroke her cheek, gently moving back to card through her hair. “Just answer me, pretty girl.”
“Her name is Samantha.”
Rafe nodded, pushing once more until the back of her knees hit the bed. “Good girl. Does she live in town?”
Y/N nodded, eyes big and innocent. “Yeah, uh, she does.”
He finally led her down until she sat on the mattress, and she took the initiative to climb in herself. He carefully joined her, not lying down with her but remaining close to keep her on the line. “Have you seen her in the last month?”
“Yes… why are you aski–?”
He shushed her, having her get comfortable and continuing to pet her hair. “Don’t worry about it. I’m trying to help you.”
Fortunately, she was already shutting her eyes and wiggling down further into the bed. He placed a kiss on her forehead and brought the throw blanket from the foot of the bed to her body. It probably wasn’t comfortable to sleep in that dress, but it did not feel right to undress her in this state.
And now, it was back to the office.
***
The elevator stopped at the third floor, which confused Rafe, since most everyone on that level should be home. His back stiffened when the doors opened to reveal Josephine Kerrington. She looked exactly the same as she did during the day, not a pin out of place. It almost amazed Rafe, how kempt she looked even this late at night.
“Oh, hello, Rafe,” she greeted, a warm yet hollow smile on her lips. “You’re here quite late.”
He hummed, watching the doors shut and ignoring the air between them warming up. “As are you.”
“Well, your father is a busy man. He loses track of time so often you’d think he doesn’t know what it is. I had to use a bathroom on another floor or he’d try to pitch ideas while I pissed.”
His eyes widened, and he didn’t try hiding the chuckle. Damn, Y/N’s mom was pretty funny. “Yeah, working with Y/N has been the least intense job I’ve gotten from him since I was fifteen.”
She looked at him. “How is she doing, by the way?”
Rafe inhaled, thinking back to the last couple of weeks, and to the last hour and a half he’s had. “Y/N… is a delight. She’s fun to be around, but sometimes distracting because of her charm.” Okay, okay, dial it back. “Fortunately, she’s out of my hair for the night so I can get some work done. Said she was at a friend’s house, a… Sarah? Savannah? Samanth–?”
“Samantha?” Josephine asked, turning back with a pleasant nod. “Good to hear. She’s got some terrible influences, like that friend Mina.” Damn, can’t even get the name right, Rafe thought. “You’re a lovely young man, and I hope you’re rubbing off on her.”
He winced at the innuendo, but smiled politely. “Thank you Mrs. Kerrington.”
When the doors shut, he all but clicked his heels together in glee. “Rafe Cameron, CEO. Good ring to it.” The elevator beeped in agreement.
***
Y/N wasn’t in much after that. Josephine made semi-regular appearances, but the deal seemed to be coming to a close and there was little reason for them to be around anymore. He would rather rake hot coals over his body than admit this, but he really missed the chaotic energy she brought. Things almost felt dull without needing to chase her around the building making sure she behaved.
And, y’know, without his unpaid intern.
It was Ward’s idea to have a celebratory closing banquet in the office building, but Rafe was almost certain that it was Y/N’s idea to make it casino night-themed.
Some poor team of interns had been tasked with turning the office into a Vegas-adjacent venue and knocked their job out of the park. Employees were given chips and sent out among the poker, craps, and roulette tables stationed with stiff-standing dealers clad in maroon bow ties. Cocktail waitresses went around taking drink orders and accepting chips as a tip (playing along pointlessly, as the chips were clearly from a children’s game).
He heard her before he saw her– a fake laugh laced with discomfort only he could detect in her voice. His head whipped over to see Y/N, clad in a ridiculously fitted red dress, clutching her clear plastic cup tight enough to force the color out of her knuckles while she spoke with her mother and others.
He grabbed his drink and abandoned the Texas Hold ‘Em table to pull her into the shadows. Josephine was so wrapped in her conversation he didn’t even need to request he borrow her daughter– no wonder she was so out of control.
If she didn’t want to be alone with him, she didn’t make a point of it. She was quiet in the elevator as he observed her and sipped his drink, leaning against the railing in the car, nervously bouncing her toe in her heel. When they arrived at the floor, she skipped out in front of him and beat him to the unlocked door.
Rafe drained the rest of his vodka soda and tossed the cup into his trash, pushing his hands into his coat pockets. “You lied to me,” he started, and she lifted her shoulders. “About why you were here.”
She didn’t waste a moment denying this. “And? You would, too.”
“No, I would not!”
“Really?” she raised an eyebrow. “If you were in my shoes, you’d run right to your caregiver and tell him how your mother won’t allow you to be alone for literally five minutes? That she’d requested a watchful eye on you? Or would you find a way to get them to tolerate your every whim without pushback? Frankly, the idea kinda handed itself to me when you were a misogynistic dick to me the first time we met. That was just dumb luck.”
“Dumb luck, huh?” he asked, stepping towards her. “What would you call having a coked-out teenager stumble into your office and beg you to fuck her? Is that just luck?”
She didn’t respond. He could see in her eyes she was trying not to look away, to show any apprehension, but he’d spent just too much time around her to not notice.
“Had anything to drink tonight?” he asked, taking one more step towards her until they were less than a foot apart.
Her attitude was back in a flash. “With my mom around? Yeah, a Coke Zero.”
He smiled even though he’d just been snapped at. “Good. You don’t need to be using that kind of stuff anyways.”
“Okay, Father Holy,” she rolled her eyes, and he had just about had enough of her shit.
Rafe grabbed her shoulders and pinned her between his body and the wall forcing a gasp from her. “I try to help you, over and over,” he sighed, almost disheartened. “And you’re still a little brat.”
His hands were all over her and she whined, arching into his touch and trying to get a feel of her own. He held her wrists tight and shook his head. “Yeah, right. Try behaving for once in your life and maybe you can touch me.”
Her hands fell down to her sides without fighting, and he ran his hands along her nearly-bare chest. His fingertips slipped under the straps and hem of the fabric as he savored the feeling of her skin under his palms, and he watched as goosebumps erupted over her collarbones. “You want this?” he checked, another chance for her to back out before he began to ruin her.
She nodded fervently, but when he just raised an eyebrow, pleading affirmations spilled out of her lips like a stream.
With the green light, Rafe tugged down the top part of her dress until her breasts were exposed in the cool office air. He played with her tits, switching between sucking on one nipple and using his fingers to toy with the other.
This wasn’t enough for either of them, so his attention and desperate hands went downwards. He got sick of trying to pull down the panties without undressing her fully, and ripped them right off her legs. He stuffed the torn fabric into his coat pocket and she gaped. “You owe me a new pair,” she breathed, moving her legs apart for him anyways.
“If only I could afford it,” he muttered, bringing his fingers to her now-exposed clit. “Do you know why I put up with your shit?”
“‘Cause I’m cute?” she smiled, but it quickly dissolved when his movements sped up.
“Oh, yeah. But also, I got a little promotion this morning,” Rafe said, leaving a fat wet kiss anywhere his lips could reach on the exposed skin of her collarbone. “You inadvertently made me CEO. Everything in this building is mine.”
Rafe used his legs to push hers even further apart, open her up for him even more.
“And in this moment,” he smacked her clit, and she cried out. “That includes you.”
He expected a snarky comment at this point, but he seemed to subdue her enough to continue rambling.
“I’ve dreamed of how I’d handle your ass for weeks,” Rafe admitted. “I think the only solution is to keep you under my desk with my cock down your throat. Put that smart mouth to some good for once, mm?”
She whined, pushing back against him for more friction.
“Fuck, you like that?” he asked incredulously. “It’s one thing for you to let me tame you, but you’re taking enjoyment in this? Kinda makin’ it hard for me. Never would’ve guessed you like being used like a doll so badly.”
“You’re mean,” she pouted, actually pouted at him and he grinned wolfishly.
Rafe shook his head. “No, baby, being mean would be binding your hands together with my tie and forcing you to cum until you cry.” She had no counter to that.
The fingers on his other hand pushed into her mouth, past her teeth, and she involuntarily sucked. “Good girl,” he cooed, not letting up on the strokes to her clit. “That mouth has done nothing but cause me trouble the last few weeks. Show me what good it can do, hmm?”
She nodded softly, obediently, and flicked her tongue over the digits, allowing him to pet at the inside of her cheek. She whimpered when he dipped his other fingers into her cunt, bringing them right back to her clit to keep her on the edge.
He thrusted against her thigh and gave her another little slap right where she was most sensitive. Rafe toyed with her swollen, glistening clit until she was breathing heavily and her legs were losing their stability. Had he not pinned her body tight against the wall, she’d collapse into a shaky pile of pleasure. He noticed her eyes rolling back into her head and pulled his fingers away, watching her gasp and whine at the loss of contact.
“What?”
“Need more,” she sniffled.
Rafe shook his head, almost chastising. “I know what you need.”
He was going to return to what he was doing, he wasn’t that mean. But he must’ve had her closer to orgasm than he’d anticipated because she got shameless.
“Please, please, Rafe, oh my God,” she whined, squirming under him. Her hips bucked up to try and get traction against his hands but he pulled away just in time. “Touch me again, please, I’ll do anything. I need it, please.”
His eyebrows had never been higher. He pushed his tongue along his bottom teeth amusedly. “Sweetheart, I didn’t even have to ask you to beg,” he pointed out, voice light and adoring. “But since you did anyways, I’ll help my girl out.”
She preened again, this time allowed to make contact with him. He placed a hand on her hip and pulled his cock out, already flushed and leaking and really fucking hard. Rafe dragged the precum on the tip along the entire head before bringing it to her cunt, dragging them together slowly. She cried out again at the new contact.
“Doesn’t this feel good, pretty girl?” he asked, angling just right to apply pressure on her clit. Judging by the full-body shudder he got out of her, the answer was yes.
“I want– oh fuck– more, please,” she said. He laughed a little. She knows what she likes.
“Tell me exactly what you want me to do, baby.”
“I want your cock inside me,” she begged, blinking up at him with long, fluttering lashes. “Wanna feel you stretch me open. Don’t you wanna use my cunt however you like? That’s all I want.”
Good fuck, who could resist that? He buried himself to the hilt, sending his brain to a skittering halt and hers into a frenzy. She grabbed at his back, whimpering with every inch, every drag that he stretched her open. He didn’t even register that he was getting scratched by the same nails she’d obnoxiously painted in his office just a couple weeks ago.
“Oh, wow,” he finally groaned, withdrawing and thrusting back in, letting his brain adjust to the feeling of holyfuckI’minsideherwereallyshouldn’tdothis. “I could fuck you forever. You sure you don’t want an administrative job around here?”
Her fingers made their way back up to his shoulder, head thumping against the wall. “Bite me.”
“If you insist.” He leaned in and gently sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck, kissing the skin right after. He led all the way up to her ear until she was shivering and his strokes didn’t miss a beat.
Y/N’s cunt clenched around him, and he saw white. “Goddamn, sweetheart, if we’d been doing this sooner, I would’ve let you do whatever the hell you want,” Rafe groaned, moving her hair out of her face.
She can’t let anything nice stay nice, though. “Slut,” she teased, smirk disappearing with a deep stroke.
His eyes narrowed. “I’m the slut?” he asked, pulling out and forcing a whine from her.
He moved her over to his desk, shoving her over the edge and pinning her there. Rafe pushed her head against the solid wood by the nape of her neck. “I’ve wanted to bend you over like this since I laid eyes on you,” he muttered, removing his hand and sliding it down her back.
She turned back, batting her lashes at him as he lined up his ruddy tip at her core. “Mm, you should’ve. So forbidden, would’ve been so hot.”
Rafe didn’t answer, just pushed his cock into her and a soft cry escaped from her lips. She tried to bite down on them but he laughed and sank all the way in until his hips were flush with hers. “We’re over three floors away from the rest of the office. Be as loud as you want, princess.”
And she did. Honestly, it wasn’t the best advice, because hearing her cries and whimpers for his cock further in her was only making him lose his rhythm and chance of lasting more than five minutes. He felt her reach down and play with her clit, and normally he’d reprimand her for doing this without permission, but it seemed like torture with how close she already was.
Feeling her cum around his cock was un-fucking-real. He finished shortly after, pulling out to paint her inner thigh with his own spend. He amusedly watched it drip down her skin, down the legs she could barely even stand on.
“Job’s still on the table, baby,” he reminded her, tucking himself back into his trousers. “Anything to keep you here and doing that more. Blackjack next?”
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p-taryn-dactyl · 1 day ago
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l'amour de ma vie
a/n: hi! it's been awhile since i've written for agatha but I though this was a fun idea! kind of an AU? everyone is alive and well, i've taken over. i tried to capture the same feeling of the avenger compound 2012 fanfics bc they have a special place in my heart, but also theres slight 🌶️ in this one than any of the fics i read in 2012
word count: 2.6k
warning(s): science written by someone who barely scrapped by in any type of science class - agatha being agatha - exes to lovers - discussion of a bad breakup - suggestiveness - slight jealous!agatha - top!agatha - slight 'knee thing' - mention of insecurity - slight manipulative!agatha - i love agath's hands, this isn't a warning but a confession -
pairing: agatha harkness x fem!reader, r is tony's younger sister
prompt: you thought being the sister of iron man, helping your brother not accidentally kill himself in the lab, was the hardest part of your life. turns out, it's keeping your mind objective when your ex is brought in on a mission
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The lab was quiet, save the sound of Dummy bumping into tables while trying to feed you a smoothie made from bananas and motor oil, as you wandered around, your mind going over calculations and equations. Tony had mentioned wanting to create a new suit based off of the absorbent energy of the Black Panther and you, being the good sister you are, decided to try and create a prototype as a surprise. Turns out, it was a lot more complicated than you originally anticipated. While Tony was off on a well-earned vacation with Pepper, you spent your nights on the phone with Shuri as she excitedly discussed how she originally made her brother's suit. You thought it was hard to follow Tony when he went on his ramblings about new scientific breakthroughs. Now, it wasn’t as if you weren’t smart, you had a very high IQ, but sometimes it seemed as if Tony and Shuri just understood everything. As you stared at the white board against the wall, smudged questions and equations blurring together, you heard knocking against the windows of the lab. Turning, you saw Natasha and Yelena waving at you, the blonde holding a box of your favorite donuts. Sighing, you signaled JARVIS to let them in, leaning one hip against a table, arms crossed. 
“What happened?” You immediately asked, taking in the slight guilty expressions the sisters wore, super spies your ass. Natasha and Yelena shared a look before the red-head shrugged, plopping down on Tony’s swivel chair. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
Yelena took a donut out of the box, sitting on the table you were leaning against, legs crossed as she handed the box out to you. Taking a donut, you raised an eyebrow, looking back and forth between your two friends. 
“Guys come on, these are bad news donuts. You only ever get these if it’s my birthday or something has happened? Did you set the laundry room on fire?” You asked Yelena pointedly, remembering the footage JARVIS had sent you two weeks earlier. She gasped, faux offense painting her face as Natasha snorted. 
“You can’t prove that was me,” yes you could, “and fine, yes, we do have news. News that Natasha is just so happy to tell you.” 
Natasha glared at her sister before she sighed, looking up at you. 
“Strange encountered something on one of his last missions, something that wasn’t sorcery but witchcraft.” 
You looked at Natasha, shrugging while slightly shaking your head.
“So? Did he call Wanda? Oh shit, is she hurt?” Worry for your friend clouded your mind before Natasha shook her head, looking away from you as she caught a donut Yelena chucked at her. 
“Wanda is powerful, yes, but she doesn’t have the knowledge required to fully take out this threat. He called in someone known for her magical expertise, after all she’s been around a while.” 
Your heart dropped to your stomach once you realized who Natasha was talking about. 
“No…” You whispered, now fully sitting on the table, eyes glued to the floor as Yelena continued where Natasha left off.
“Apparently, this threat is going to take awhile to understand and Strange has offered her a place at the compound until everything is over. He needs you or Tony to sign off on that and Tony is in Ibiza right now.” 
You just nodded wordlessly, not fully understanding what Yelena was saying. The blonde noticed this, placing a hand over yours. 
“She’s upstairs with him now.”
Your vision tunneled slightly, panic clawing at your throat. Taking a deep breath, you remembered what your job was. 
Protect the people. 
Even if that meant dealing with your ex-fiance, Agatha Harkness.
Your relationship with the infamous witch started out like every Hallmark movie Tony forces you to watch. It was a rainy morning when you ran inside a small cafe near the Avengers Tower, ran straight into Agatha herself. From there, everything was a blur. Now, you’ve pushed the memories away into a box in your mind, forbidden to open. But sometimes you find yourself thinking about the happiness that bloomed in your chest every time you were near Agatha, how your heart almost exploded when she proposed, how happy you were to finally use the wedding book you had made and continued to add to since you were six. Then you remember how Agatha, mere weeks after proposing, started growing distant. Any question about her wedding preferences were waved away with a perfectly manicured hand, claiming that she would be fine with whatever. Her response seemed romantic to you at first, thinking she would just be happy to marry you, no matter the color scheme or the flower arrangements. But then it quickly shifted to her not caring at all. Date nights got canceled, cake tasting was done solo, and you shrunk deeper and deeper into your insecurities. She was obsessed with her own power, constantly chasing leads of witches and wizards who could be easy targets. It all came to a head one night, silently. You remember sitting in the dim lighting of your shared apartment, an anniversary gift from Tony, fiddling with your ring. A glass of wine sat on the counter, untouched but tempting. Agatha had promised to come home at three in the afternoon so the two of you could design the wedding invitations, something you thought could bring her back to you. 
But she didn’t show. 
It was half past nine when you broke, tears pooling in your eyes, blurring your vision as they fell to the floor. You cried silently to yourself as you gathered up the markers and papers you had set out, ripping the designs you had happily scribbled down at sixteen. You left the pieces in the trash, glaring at them for a few moments before you wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. Then promptly burst into tears once more. You wish you had handled the situation with the grace and dignity of a Stark but no. You put all the wedding stuff in a bin, stuffing in it a closet, then you left your ring on the counter. You didn’t know when Agatha would be back, sometimes she was gone for days, but that gave you some sense of peace. If she showed up as you had finally decided to leave, you probably would have fallen for her spell once again. All your things in the apartment you just left, knowing that you hadn’t fully moved in and, not to sound too incredibly privileged, you could just replace everything you left behind. You still had that key to the apartment, probably rusting away in a drawer somewhere. Leaving should have felt like a weight being lifted but all you felt was pain. The week after you left was filled with silence, you spent it curled up in your room at the compound, being forced to watch movies sandwiched between Natasha and Yelena, Tony joining occasionally. Your brother showered you with gifts of candy and books, doing everything in his power to bring a smile back to your face. Eventually, it worked and now, a year later, you thought you had healed. 
You were wrong.
The elevator ride up to where Strange and Agatha waited felt like time was being stretched around you. Yelena stood protectively at your side, arms crossed as she glared at the elevator doors, Natasha had wrapped an arm around your waist as you had slightly stumbled from the shock. You felt both protected and exposed as the doors opened, Stephen smiling as he realized it was you, his expression growing concerned as he took in the positions of the two assassins flanking your sides. You didn’t blame him, he didn’t know, but some part of you was angry at the innocent gratefulness that was apparent in his eyes. You felt her eyes before you saw her, they pierced into you before moving down to where Natasha’s arm wrapped around your waist. Swallowing, you nodded at Nat, silently letting her know you were okay. The two sisters moved to sit on the couch across from where Agatha now stood, her eyes never leaving you despite the looks she was receiving. Clapping your hands together, you refused to look at her, instead smiling at Strange as you painted on the familiar Stark charm. 
“I heard you needed my signature?” It was more of a statement than a question as you held out your hand for the tablet Strange held. He nodded, relief painting his face as you signed the permission form, allowing JARVIS to assign your ex a room. 
“Normally we would stay in Kamar Taj but whatever it is we’re facing seems to target places of high magical energy.” 
Yelena scoffed, her eyes still boring into Agatha.
“That sounds familiar.” 
Agatha finally looked away from you, her expression almost confused until her face went blank as she raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. Stephen rocked back and forth on his heels for a second once you had finished signing all the forms, obviously thrown off by the awkward atmosphere. He suddenly snapped his fingers as if he had remembered something, giving you an apologetic glance before explaining he had a meeting with Wong starting in a few minutes. Your eyes widened as he turned to Agatha, formally introducing you and explaining you would show her to her new room. At this, Natasha and Yelena shot up, both offering to instead be the guide. Strange looked both confused and scared, opting to just nod as he walked backwards into the portal he had summoned, quickly disappearing. 
“Guys, it’s fine. I’ll show Ms. Harkness to her room.” 
Your friends looked apprehensive, like they would rather swallow a wasps nest than let you be alone with the witch but thankfully they stood down. You closed your eyes as you turned around, heading back towards the elevator, beckoning for Agatha to follow you. 
Time to face the music.
Once the doors to the elevators shut, you focused all your attention onto the screen in your hands, hoping to ignore the way Agatha was staring at you. You heard her sigh before the elevator stopped suddenly. Thinking you were at the right floor, you took a step forward only to be face to face with very closed doors. Confused, you turned to finally face Agatha, finding her eyes slightly glowing purple, same as the emergency stop button. You opened your mouth to ask what was going on when suddenly you were pushed up against the wall, purple magic pinning you down as Agatha stood inches away from you, arms trapping you and one leg in between yours. Her eyes flickered down to your lips for a moment before they snapped up to yours, 
“Is this where you’ve been?” You heard a slight tremor in her voice, breaking her illusion of strength. You didn’t respond, your words stuck in your throat as your body reacted to being close to Agatha once more. She didn’t seem to care about your silence, continuing to speak. 
“You look very comfortable here, especially with that assassin.” She spoke with a sneer, her hands moving to now cradle your waist, her grip tight as her thumbs slipped under your shirt. You blinked, absorbing her words before you unwillingly let out a small laugh. She tightened her grip, her hips now practically flush with yours. 
“Natasha is just a friend, I’m not-” You cleared your throat, stopping yourself from justifying your personal life with the person who had torn apart your heart. Agatha leaned in close, her nose brushing against your jaw as she kissed your neck softly, causing you to gasp. 
“Not what?” She prodded, her breath hot against your skin as her tongue traced up your neck before she lightly bit your ear. 
“Agatha…” you sighed, your hands now resting on her shoulders, as if you were debating whether or not to push her away or pull her closer. Her teeth bit hard into your neck before she kissed over the spot, her knee now pressing up against your core. 
“Answer me, Y/N.” 
This was exactly why you didn’t wait for her to come back to the apartment that night, you crumbled too quickly under her hands. 
“I’m not with anyone, especially not Natasha, she’s like a sister to me.” 
Agatha nodded slightly before she leaned her forehead against yours, one of her hands fiddling with the elastic of your sweatpants. 
“Have you been with anyone since you left me?”
Her words were accusing yet tinged with slight fear, worried about your answer. You hesitated before you shook your head, embarrassed at how pathetic you had been after you ended the relationship. Sure, people offered and you tried a few times but always chickened out before anything could ever happen. 
No one was like Agatha. 
Your ex smiled, lightly bumping her nose against yours. You felt your own lips quirk slightly before you realized the position you were in. She was here for a mission, not to fuck you against the walls of an elevator. 
“Agatha-”
Before you could finish speaking, Agatha's lips crashed against yours, immediately establishing her dominance. The kiss was deep, her tongue battling yours before she pulled away, her teeth pulling at your bottom lip. Her hands left your waits, instead now cradling your face. She smirked at your expression, your eyes glassy and your mouth hanging slightly open. Her thumb rubbed your cheek as her other hand brushed a hair out of your eyes. You allowed yourself to bask in the peace of the moment, reminiscing about the time when Agatha sent butterflies ablaze in your stomach. It was quickly ruined, however, by Agatha’s next question which hit you like a bucket of ice water. 
“Why’d you leave me? No note, no explanations, just your ring on the counter and cancellations of our wedding vendors. I thought you loved me, Y/N.” Her last words were almost a whisper, like she hadn’t fully meant to say them outloud. You felt the sharp pin pricks of tears, hurriedly blinking them away, averting your eyes from Agatha. You shook your head, a dry, humorless laugh escaping from your lips. 
“Agatha, what’s done is done, we don’t need to-”
Her hand grasped your chin, forcing you to look at her, to take in the icy fury that was ablaze in her eyes. 
“No.” Her voice was firm, commanding, as you both examined each other’s expressions. “No, I need to know what I did.” 
You didn’t know why, but those words opened the floodgates, both of your tears and your words.  
“It’s what you didn’t do Agatha! You were never there, you didn’t give one shit about our wedding, about planning our life together. Power is your true love, Agatha, and I’ll be damned if I’m just a rebound,” You took a shaky breath, blinking away the tears that were blurring your vision and falling down your face, “You were bored of me, Agatha, I understand that now but by god, you could of just told me instead of stringing me along and single handedly crushing my dreams!”
Agatha looked shocked, the anger disappearing from her eyes, now replaced with something akin to despair. 
“Is that really what you thought? Still think?” 
You bit your lip as you nodded, heart about to explode in your chest at how intense this day had become. Agatha shook her head, leaning so her head now rested on your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug. It was silent for a moment before you felt the atmosphere shift, Agatha’s hands making their way into your pants, her experienced fingers rubbing your clothed clit as she whispered into your ear. 
“I guess I have to prove you wrong.”
a/n: plz don't hate me i wrote this in two hours and i have to get up early tomorrow or else this fic would be wayyy longer and would probably banish me to self isolation bc i think im ovulating. is that tmi? who cares. ik this wasn't the best but thank you for reading! im sleep deprived
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neonovember · 2 days ago
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This is an idea that’s been on my mind lately because Carmy would be so protective and would 100% treat his gf like a princess, so I thought I’d send it in ifs it’s okay!!🤧
Can I please request Carmy x fem!reader where it’s based off the song “Treat You Better”, where she’s one of his chefs, and Carmy has a biiiig soft spot for her, like soft smiles, hand on the small of her back. Y/n is veryyyy soft spoken and quiet, a very stark contrast to the rest of The Beef/The Bear staff. The staff absolutely love her and are super protective of her: She’s best friends with Sydney (also she’s around the same age as Syd, early 20s), Tina sees her as a daughter, Marcus is always trying to make her laugh and asks her to try his pastries, Richie is more gentle with her than he is with everyone else, Ebra has a calmness around Y/n, Sugar (when she stops by) loves treating Y/n like the little sister she never had, and Carmy… Carmy is head over heels for Y/n. He’s so soft and gentle with her, never raising his voice at her in the kitchen, and he always has the cutest nicknames for her🤧. However… Y/n has a boyfriend, they all know it, and they all share an extreme dislike for him. He’s not very nice, and it all goes to a boiling point when they spot bruises, Y/n letting her hair fall over her face.🥺 Tina and Sydney probably noticing right as she walks in one morning, then the rest of the staff noticing too, the whole kitchen getting eerily quiet, Carmy pulling her aside to his office to talk to her, holding Y/n in his arms while she cries🥺 Carmy 100% taking his bat and beating the crap out of her bf… Now ex, and he offers for Y/n to stay with him because she has nowhere to go? Their relationship growing after that? Y/n kissing him one day, shook at herself, but he kisses her back?
July in November
carmen berzatto x fem! reader
warnings: heavy domestic abuse, controlling fiance, swearing, violence, carmen goes gives absolute no regard for felonies, (assumed) unrequited love, self deprecation, victim blaming
a/n: this entire fic is just time skips l swear, I've written something similar here as well if you liked this which i hope you did! dv is a heavy subject, and not something to trivialise. if you or someone you know is going through dv, please reach out x
banner from @firefly-graphics
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The streaks of concealer do little to hide the bloom of dark purples and blues.
They stretch out, clawing up your side and past your ribs, shades of overlapping blotched bruises that were not yet healed.
You were a chef trained in Oslo for god sake, you had friends and family who loved you- and you let out a laugh when the words come out pathetic and dull. 
You were right where he left you.
You suppose from the continuous uphill of your career, the exhaustion had made it easier to just sit still, let it happen. He had proposed and you had said yes unblinking. It was what he told the countless people at dinner parties he dragged you to in attendance, 
“I had finally beat her down enough to finally fall in love with me” He smiled, his eyes shining and his grip on your waist bruising as the people smiled and laughed and you swallowed back his irony.
The cycles of abuse had started before you could truly remember, bouts of angry yelling before the hot dull beat of pain. And he was so kind after, so thoughtful and apologetic, his eyebrows furrowed and his touch gentle as he leaned over you.
Were you still a victim, if you wanted to stay just for the after?
You shake your head, slowly blinking at the reflection of your bloated torso. Peeling away your shirt gently before buttoning up one of your work shirts instead.
Your heart settled when you thought of the Bear. It was your haven, Richie’s rambled drivel, Sugar hovering every so near, Carmen with his eyes and his inked hands and his sweet mouth. It wrapped around you more tightly than those bruises ever could.
You look over to watch your fiancé, fast asleep content with a full stomach and tired fists. He was so vulnerable like that, and the feeling of anger unfurls in your gut. For once, just one time you wanted him to feel it, that gut wrenching frightened feeling.
You look over to the stone doorstep near his desk, the stupid thing that he had revered at one of his art conventions that was left keeping the door open. You wonder, just for a second, what it would feel like to lean over him with it between your hands, waiting for the slight blink of his eyes that clear away the sleep. 
Watch the fear melt into them, and smashing his fucking face with it.
You breathe deeply, arranging your hair so it is out of your face, flattening out the creases in your shit and avoiding your stomach as you stood up and grabbed your bag.
“Where are you going” 
You blink, hands gripping your work bag as his voice bellows “Work”
“Huh. We need to sort that out soon”
You stopped, closing your eyes as you fiddled with the loose threads from the shoulder strap. You knew this conversation, where he would bring up another thing in your life he wanted to talk about, as if your relationship was built on a solid base of understanding and conversation. You would wait until his voice would ripen with jealousy and rage, where thinly veiled inquisition would fall away and reveal what he truly wanted. 
You had given him enough of your life, let him change and control it. But you would soon let yourself be buried then let him take this too from you. No fucking way.
“Sure”
You pass by the door, pushing the stone to the side. It wasn’t heavy at all.
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It’s when you enter the back door of the Bear do you realise you’ve spent your whole commute over holding your breath.
The smells of sauces and expensive meats lulls your anxiety into a mummering tremble, and you sigh softly to yourself as you sling your bag into your locker.
You can already hear Richie arguing, and the tired voice of Carmen biting back and you want to slap yourself for all the times you had grown annoyed at them. What you would give to hear them always, to feel this level of safety and comfort without the overhanging timer of when you would eventually have to leave.
You nod towards Sydney, carrying a large tray of roasted pecans over to Sam, her braids intricately wrapped around her head.
The walkway is framed with pictures of the family, from Mickey to the recent Polaroids of Sugar's newborn. You notice a framed picture of the team from years ago, when you had first started working at the Bear. You’re squished between Carmen and Fak, the backdrop of a renovating Bear behind you all. 
The timidiness of being new had not left then, and despite the family enveloping you as their own you had wondered why Carmen had chosen you out of all the decorated chefs that had surely applied. You had asked him this once, after an exhausting dinner rush and he had simply looked up at you from his plate of stolen steak and eggs. 
“You’ve got something, Kid. Maybe it’s because you hadn’t yet gotten the light beaten out from the culinary world but I need that. Need someone who pushes against the boundaries you know?”
You had stayed quiet as he talked
“And you’re a local. Boston isn’t for the faint of heart, you know your diners better than they know themselves. Call it prejudice, I call it a safety cushion.“
You wondered what she would think of you now, her wide eyed dream so close you could see her tight grip on her chef coat in the grainy photograph.
You follow the noise of the crew into the kitchen, when Carmen is hunched over a chopping board and Richie is pointing out problems in the seating arrangement for tonight.
He exhales, ready to start another contingent when he spots your figure walking through the entryway.
“Finally. Someone fucking competent in this place” 
“Hey Richie” You smile, tightening your apron before biting back a wince. The darkness of your life outside of the Bear had a way of seeping in at times, you had grown too comfortable.
“Hey baby, you good? yeah?” Richie replies
“Richie-“ Carmen interrupts, turning his head to face you for the first time in an hour (which you did not realise but Riche surely did) 
“Fuck off. Fuck you. You sure baby? Need me to get you somethin? I got a pack of Marlboros if you need a break”
“Leave her alone, dammit Richie, and a cigarette this early?”
“Oh! Oh! The addict wants to act holier than thou all of a sudden. Just because you slapped on a couple Nic patches-“
“It’s gum and it’s fucking working asshole”
“The L hold you up?” Richie says, throwing the finger at Carmen
“No, no, um, just got in a little fight with David” You reply, cutting your eyes away from him.
Richie rolls his eyes with a groan, a sour expression filters over his face in flash at the mention of your fiance’s name.
“That fuckin’ guy, I swear that boyfriend of yours” Richie groans
“It was my fault really.”
You notice Carmen’s movements stop abruptly, the chopping growing silent with his back turned to you.
“I highly doubt that” Carmen grumbles, before Tina and Sydney come through the door
“Hey, why were you late you missed out on that guy who tried fighting Fak-”
“Her stupid fucking boyfriend”
“Easy” Carmen replies, turning to face you again
“Hey, c’mon Carmen you of all people know that man does not deserve her one fucking bit”
“Darling you need to get rid of that man I’m telling you, he ain't treating you the way you deserve. There's no good keeping an angry man” Tina chides, eyebrows raised as she wipes her fingers on the cloth draped over her shoulder.
“Yeah, he's a dick. And he’s always just…hovering when he comes.” Sydney replies
“And always talk in this condescending tone, adding random words to sound smarter than he is” Marcus’s voice interjects, peeking from around the pastry corner
“Like pseudo-intellectual goddamn-” Tina grumbles, in lightning speed
“Yuppie” Fak continues, and Tina nods 
“All I’m saying doll, is that if you end up dumpin’ him we’d be right behind ya’. Might throw a little party here, a small one…how much does it cost to hire some fireworks?”
“Ease up guys, her love life ain’t got nothing to do with us alright. Let the girl be” Carmen voice bellows “And we got work to do”
He turns to the rest of them, shaking his head feigning annoyance at the team gathering together to gossip. And yet, his hands grip his towel tight enough to leave them white, and his teeth grind against his molars when he thinks of your boyfriend.
You don’t know how they'd react when they find out he proposed, you can’t exactly hide a ring.
“Hey” You smile towards Carmen, who’s twisted features blink into resolve when he hears you
“Hey” He nods, wincing as he pressed his fingers to his temple gingerly.
“Still got that headache?”
“I’ll be fine, just wish it would save the eye stabbing until after dinner service”
“Here”
“I’m alright-“
“Take it” you repeat, pressing some pain killers in his hand.
Carmen nods gratefully, hands clasped around yours for a second longer. Before they part.
He eyes the pills, and for a second you see this puzzled look gleam across his eyes.
He pops them in his mouth, you let out a breath from your chest quietly.
You kept your work and home life separate, Carmen didn’t need nor should carry the burden of this ugly secret that paints you from the inside out.
You had a lid on it. You were sure.
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You let yourself get lost in the ingrained memory of moving around the kitchen, letting the slice of your knife against the flesh of meat and fruit melt away everything you had been shouldering the past year.
It gets busy, really busy, Richie and Carmen fail to cohabitate in the hours of the dinner service, multiple plates are dropped, you almost can’t keep up with the never ending orders coming in but its also fucking amazing. The rush of delivering every component of a plate in time, making sure the meat is cooked until just right, making sure the sauce isn't runny, it feels like dancing. 
Your legs and arms ache, you have a headache and your apron is stained and you can’t tell the difference between the end of the dinner service and hitting the last step of a choreographed dance.
The high that buzzes through your body is mirrored by everyone around you, and you take a second to sink in that feeling of euphoria as the last tables are cleared.  
“That was..” You start, un-hunching your shoulders as the rest of the team look up in a daze, surrounding the kitchen
“Fuckin’ amazing, might be our best night yet” Richie grins, bobbing his chin as it rests on his hands
“That was good..we could've been a bit better at turning the tables-” Carmen murmurs
“Oh c’mon Carmy, we can talk about the finalities later but even you can admit that was pretty good” Sydney calls out, leaning her head against the door frame, as exhausted pulls at her every feature
“Yeah…yeah it was good”
“No one go anywhere, I’ve got left over schnitzel and potatoes and I know none of you have taken a break”
“How long has it been since we’ve sat down for family?” Tina mumbles, wiping her stained apron tiredly
“Too long, I don’t mind fixin’ it up” You stretch out your arms, unbuttoning your chef's coat and folding it neatly, despite Sugar throwing them into the sink to soak for the night later.
“I’ll help” Carmen nods to you, doing the same with his apron. His dark crew neck that sticks to him reveals with every button, outlining the indentations of his chest and biceps.
Family usually consists of throwing whatever leftovers from the night's dinner service onto a large plate and proceeding to throw some forks near it. There had been a long trail of food combinations that either delighted the crew or had you throwing your towel in and going to the taco truck nearby.
Today however, the night had gone so well and had distracted you even better. You could at least make up some plates, make ‘em look pretty or whatever else your hands had been trained to do.
The rest of the team move the tables to form one large spanning diner in the middle of the Bear, the scrape of wood against flooring is all that fills the air as you and Carmen work silently. You’re good together, that sort of chemistry that only comes with understanding a person so well you can anticipate their next move. And the night feels like a dance again, moving left and right, handing him pieces of chicken and spoonfuls of sauce, wiping plates clean and centering them right.
It’s only when Richie comes tumbling through the double doors does it cause Carmen to jump, spilling the ladle of hot gravy across your shirt. You wince, Carmen lets out a garbled grunt and Richie cringes.
Carmen is quick, reaching for a nearby cloth as he begins to lift up your shirt gingerly. The sauce isn't boiling, but there is a slight stinging heat that radiates across your midsection and you're too distracted and uncomfortable that you forget yourself, and let Carmen reveal you.
It takes Carmen a second, he's pulling your shirt up just below your underbra, and his fingers pause against the fabric.
You’re confused just for a moment, but it stretches out, and you let yourself sit in the fantasy of unknowing, you let yourself imagine a life where what was sprawled across your skin was just the remnants of a soggy shirt and irritated skin.
The truth of it hits you when you watch Carmen's face change in front of you.
“What the fuck?”
“Don’t-”
“What?” Richie calls, coming closer before throwing his head back
“Jesus fuckin' christ kid” 
“I-I we got into a fight-“
“A fight? He beat you!”
“You don’t understand-”
“Maybe I don’t but this-“ Carmen gestures to the welts and colours that paint your stomach “Is one of the worst things I’ve seen in a long time”
Carmen’s hands are still gripping your shirt, the rag dropped to the floor between you now as you lower your head and let your hair cover your eyes.
“I’m sorry-“ You croak out, tongue heavy and eyes blurring with tears.
“Sorry-?” Carmen circuses down to meet your eyes incredulously “You’re sorry? Why are you fucking sorry, look what he fucking did to you!- what has he done to you?”
“Hey hey, honey you need to tell us what happened. This isn’t right, no fight can justify this” Richie whispers, crouching near you as he watches Carmen carefully.
“It was an accident”
“Do you truly believe that?” Richie murmurs softly, and you look up with a furrow of your brow. 
You turn to Carmen whose face is twisted in anger, his eyes on your midsection, his hands around your sides and around you.
“I don’t know anymore..I’m just so tired” You whimper, your throat growing tight as Carmen’s brows furrow, blinking and grinding his jaw
“I’m going to fucking kill him-“
“Hey, Carmen wait just- wait” Richie is quick to reach Carmen as he rears back
“Look at her- he can’t-FUCK”
“I know, and we will. I want to break his goddamn legs but we got to think of her. We need to get her out of this, we need to think about her first”
Carmen closes his eyes as you watch their interaction, and he turns to you as you blink the tears that drop down your cheek. He frowns and waits for your approval and you nod, and Richie lets go of him and he gathers you in his arms and lets you cry the last of your resolve on his shoulder.
You don’t tell him anything, and he doesn’t ask. He lets you wet his shoulder as the silence that sits in the kitchen is consumed by your muffled cries instead. 
The commotion causes the rest of the team to flood in, putting the pieces together when they see your shoulders shaking with grief and your unbuttoned top. The bear hung with the sick reality of a beat woman, and the once hungry crew now felt the nauseous image in front of them fill their stomach.
Sydney is the one that eases you out of Carmen’s arms, and pulls your hair back as she whispers apologies into your ear. She takes you to the emergency room to make sure nothing is broken. When the nurses greet you by name she waits until you're in the examination room before sobbing into Tina’s arms.
“How did I not notice, I see her every goddamn day, how did I not notice he was hurting her?”
“Don’t do that, don’t blame yourself. There is only one person to blame”
The rest of the team follows, and they all sprawl across the waiting room, heads between their hands.
After one of the junior doctors gives you the all clear, and Carmen and Richie follow up on the police report you make your way down the linoleum hallway in the crumbled stained shirt that had started this all.
You blink as you watch the faces of everyone you love look up in worry, exhaustion is written into their bones and still they sit in the too small waiting chairs for you. You had never felt a love like that before, so profound and overwhelming clear and you breathe it in deeply like it's the last thing you’ll taste.
“I’m so sorry-”
“Don’t you fuckin dare-”
“I know, I know, just please hear me.”
They relent, and you wait until they all nod towards you before continuing
“You guys have taken me as your own, made me feel a part of something greater than myself.  I don’t want you to think I was unloved” Your voice heightens with the wet tears that fill your throat
“Every single time I came through those doors I felt it okay? I never understood the power of it, of love, but I feel it now and I felt it then. It just got muddled in the middle of all of this, of all the things I keep hidden. And that is my fault, but you guys, the Bear? You guys kept me alive” You whisper the last part, your voice caught in your throat as you try to still the shake your hands.
“You did nothing wrong baby, nothing. It’s hard to leave isn’t it? It’s hard to even say it” Ebra is the first one to whisper, holding your hands gently and carefully. You look at him, as his eyes gleam with the heaviness of his past and you don’t quite understand how, but you believe he knows that well. 
“We’re your family, whatever it is that you're dealing with we shoulder it to, we carry that burden. That is what we're here for, and you can take all the time that you need. Let us help you, but you know what happens now, yes?” Richie murmurs
“I need to get out”
“Damn fucking right you do. And fast, I know it's going to be hard but you need to act like everything is normal. Get in, pack a bag and get out.”
You breathe in deeply, remembering all the half packed duffle bags that had been left near the door. This time you wouldn't be able to back out, this time Carmen would make sure of it.
“Where’s Carmen?” You suddenly say, and Richie shifts his gaze to the exit sign.
“Maybe give him a few moments Kid” Richie murmurs, but you ignore him, moving quickly towards and out of the doors into the smoking area in the alleyway.
You spot him hunched over, back against the stone wall, trails of grey smoke filters from his mouth as you tsk loudly when you near him.
He raises his head up, widening his eyes before looking down at the cigarette.
“You were doing so good” You smile softly
“Yeah? Felt like pulling teeth, not grabbing for one every couple hours.”
“But those chewing gums”
Carmen shakes his head “Don’t tell Rich, but they were fucking disgusting”
You let out a hearty laugh, leaning back on the wall beside him.
Carmen takes one last deep drag, before pressing the butt of the stick into the wall that isn't near you.
It’s silent, and you feel him watching you for a long time before his voice replies in a croaky tear filled tone you had never heard come out of his mouth before.
“Goddamn it kid”
“I know” You reply instantly, the tears that you thought had left you were big fat liars.
“I want to blame myself, I will for a long time but this isn’t about me is it”
You shake your head furiously, it was so far apart from him. 
“What can I do? What can I do to make it better?” Carmen whispers, turning to face you fully now, eyes red and blonde curls messy across his brows.
“It’s not something you can fix Carm, you just got to let me do it. Let me walk away completely”
Carmen grits his teeth, “I should’ve made more attention-”
“How? Between renovating the Bear, organising the menu, fucking opening and maintaining the dinner service every night?”
Carmen shakes his head and you tug at his arm gently
“I didn’t let you notice Carm, I hid it well sometimes I even forgot about it. The bear, you? You let me forget, you let me feel so safe I forgot what he was doing to me”
Carmen reaches for your hand, holding onto it gently 
You shake your head, shaking the tears along with it. You hadn’t so much as let yourself hear the truth of what had been happening, but it flowed out of your mouth like a river into Carmen.
“He got drunk one night” You whisper, biting your cheek as you bristle at the memory of it
“He got drunk one night, and started accusing me of these horrible things. Things I would never do. And when I tried talking to him he just turned to me with this look in his eyes, and it was so unlike him Carm. It was like someone else had come and taken his body, and his voice and his mouth”
“And when I reached for him he reached back. And then I suppose I got used to being afraid of him”
“I don’t know what changed that night, but it did. Or maybe he had always been that way and I had been to blind by the feeling of being wanted that I ignored it. But it got worse, he hit me, but he started controlling what I was doing. Always flinging my phone in my face so that he could look for something that wasn’t there, eyes always scrutinising me when I came home fucking exhausted from the Bear.”
“That was how it started, and I guess it never quite ended” You murmur, and when Carmen drags his thumb across your cheek, you understand the rage that he had kept covered for you.
“I’m going to hurt him. And that's more for me than it is for you, I know it and I don’t care. He doesn't get to walk away.” Carmen replies after a beat, and his voice is even. You can see his anger from before slipping into the darkness of his pupils, but his voice is clear and devoid.
“I know” You murmur
“And you’re going to stay with me till we get you a place. Tina and Syd offered and well the whole team, but I can’t-”
“I know, you can’t put them in danger”
“No. I can’t let it happen, you being alone, him somehow getting to you. You being hurt again-” Carmen shakes his head, grinding his jaw as he cuts his eyes away.
“Okay” You mumble, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your secret that had weighed you down every day fall away.
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The month after had passed quicker than any other time in your life. And for that you were grateful. You had packed a bag and moved into Carmen's apartment that night, and he and Richie had made good on their promise. They watched, as well as the rest of the Bear with a sneer as your fiance was carried into the police station, and you watched the mirror of your injuries multiplied across his face. 
The police had been slow in taking action, even you know this, so you suppose their tight lipped expressions at the beaten man they found in your trashed apartment made up for that.
Carmen slept near the door for the first two weeks, a bat in his hand and his notebook of recipes filled with scribbled annotations. Tossing and turning enough times, made you wrap your blanket around yourself and join him by the door. You would wake up some nights, in a sweat from the terror of your nightmare imagining him somehow finding you, and you would join him those times as well.
The truth of all that had happened still had not yet been told, and you doubt that it ever will. But you were okay with that, and Carmen was too. And so when your fiance had been tried and sentenced, and the promise of broken bones hung over him even years after, Carmen had made no mention of finding you a place. 
And so you stayed, and made a home for yourself. Let your shoes get muddled and clutter the hallway, have your toothbrush besides his own. Move in the last pieces of yourself that had been left in that prison to a place that could maybe change them.
You spent Thursdays with Richie, he’d wait at the foyer for you and he'd take you out for lunch like clockwork. Divulging in your week as he did his, he let you steal some of his cigarettes and you let him ramble to you. Richie had surprised you, when all was said and done. He had known what to do, knew how to talk to you, and you think you credit him to a lot of where you were now. You suppose he blames himself a little as well, so you don’t mind that Thursdays were his way of checking up on you.
You let the team act the same way, Tina bringing you plates of food and tupper wares of lasagna till Carmen's fridge was hard to open, Sydney calling every day, Ebra and Marcus making sure you had someone who could walk you home if Carmen had to stay back. And when you had finally had enough, they nodded and backed away and let you out of their grip.
You're crouched in the fire escape of Carmen's building, passing a bottle of wine that you had snuck from service. 
“I visited him today”
“What?” Carmen replies, knowing immediately who you were talking about.
You shrug your shoulders, “I was too much of a mess to confront him, and the court proceedings left me too numb to even face him. But I went today, and I told him. What he had done, how he had changed.”
“But then he laughed and I punched him in his goddamn mouth”
“Atta girl” Carmen grins, his smile filling up the entire bottom of his face.
“So I can’t ever come back to the Boston Corrections facility, and boy am I glad. You know what this means though right?”
“Hm?” Carmen mumbles with a mouthful of street tacos
“You can’t ever get yourself thrown in prison” You chide, and you smile when he throws his head back in laughter
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“Seriously Carm?” You bemoan, resting against the living room entryway
“Yes, the bed is strictly meant for you. What do you take me for? Letting a woman sleep on the couch” Carmen gruffs, carefully placing the duvet over the couch cushions.
“It’s been nearly a year since I’ve moved in, Carmen. I don’t think it's ridiculous to assume we can share a bed together”
Carmen grinds his jaw, swallowing back grunt at the thought of sharing a bed with you. As if it was no big thing, as if Carmen would be able to sleep with you next to him.
“It’s called being a host”
“I signed the lease 2 months ago, we’re technically de-facto” You raise your eyebrows, folding your hands across your chest
“The only time I’ll let the government decide what we are is when-if I put a ring on that finger” Carmen replies, the little slip causing him to cut his eyes from you and back to the duvet that was already folded.
You shake your head with a laugh “This you’re way of proposing Carm? Take a girl out for dinner first”
Carmen mumbles under his breath, flattening the duvet with his inked hands before his phone buzzes
“Goddamnit, that’s Richie. 
“Leave that sofa and let's go down to meet our friends and have a nice time. God knows we’ve earned more than a few drinks at Nick’s” You reply, swiping Carmen’s phone
“Hey!”
“You weren’t even going to answer him” You roll your eyes.
You send Richie a text that was all apologetic and none grammatically correct as you shuffle out of your work pants into some jeans. 
The team was already at the bear, halfway through the first round of drinks and you’d be damned if you let Carmen make the both of you late.
Carmen is in jeans as well, and the white shirt he always dons fits around his chest tightly. You can lie to yourself most days, but in times like this, where you both live in this domestic bubble your mind wanders.
You don’t let it too much.
But when you're visiting family, and you pass by the Louisiana welcome sign planted in the roadway, and the weather gets warm and the nights stretch out you let yourself think of him. You let yourself imagine a life where he was entwined, in you, your life, your days while you drink on the porch of your family home.
The thought of being in anything new scares you to no end, your past finds you in moments you least expect and dredges you down to the same feeling you felt when you were with him.
But Carmen was your past too wasn’t he? He was muddled and interlinked with all the memories that make your chest ache and your hands shake. Carmen didn’t feel new..you had already been living with each other for a year now, and you suppose the way you both flow into each other's lives was no different.
You’d be together, in the way you had always been but different also. You’d get to grow familiar of the taste of him, you’d get to feel him under your skin, beneath your fingers, and he’d sleep in that fucking bed for the first time in a year.
Then the sun would dip below the horizon, the sounds of the insects and birds would come back to you, and the creeping shadow of guilt and insecurity would remind you of who you were again. 
You’d taste the bitter embarrassment of forcing Carmen to be that way with you, throwing your head back as you gulp down the beer in your hand as you try to stave away the taste. The dream disappears each time from you, like the oranges and reds that paint the Louisiana sky every evening.
“Hey, we going or what?” Carmen says, his eyes narrowing at, you noticing the way your eyes glaze over.
“Yeah, yes” You nod, swallowing the thoughts of him quickly as you finish tying your boots and let Carmen lock the door behind you. 
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The bar is surprisingly crowded on a Tuesday night, and you have to squeeze past crowds of leather wearing bikers before finally seeing the team seated in a long booth at the back.
“Finally!” Richie yells, hands in the air and his beer swishing out of the neck.
“We were about to send a search party” Tina smiles, looking toward you with a glint in her eyes when she notices Carmen’s arm at your back.
“Aren’t you guys like, a 2 minute walk from this place? Fak got here before you” Marcus replied, his old fashioned nursed in your arms.
“I had no involvement in our tardiness, he was too busy fixing his makeshift couch bed”
“Oh don’t tell me your still sleeping on that” Richie’s eyes widen
“You know that ain’t even a good couch right? We found it on the side of the road-“ 
“It’s not good for your back Carmen, all those cushions” Ebra shakes his head disapprovingly.
“It’s perfectly fine Ebra, and who would I be if I let a woman sleep on the couch?” Carmen grumbles, as both slide into the booth next to Sydney.
“I mean, there is an easy straightforward solution” Sydney murmurs, and everyone turns to her quickly.
“You could both just sleep in the same bed together” She replies, after looking at everyone dumbfounded.
“Only married people share a bed, that’s Sicilian tradition”
“Yeah, mixing work and personal life isn’t-“
“Mixing? They already live together!” Sydney replies, defensively.
“Wouldn’t be surprised if they’re already” Four murmured, before snapping his mouth closed when Carmen narrows his eyes to him.
“It’s not about fucking tradition, or whatever. I’m not gonna put her-you in that situation and make you uncomfortable”
“Why would you make me uncomfortable?” You murmur without thinking, and the booth goes quiet.
Carmen shakes his head, blinking as you remain quiet.
You wince at the silence, maneuvering your body quickly out of the booth as you almost fall out.
“Uh-I’m going to get a drink” You reply quickly 
Carmen's body isn’t fast enough for his legs and he stands up from his position on the booth quickly, almost tumbling over.
 “I’ll come with you”
You shake your head, forcing a tight smile as you wave him off.
“It’s okay, I know your order” You reply quickly, turning around without seeing the look on Carmen’s face.
You slide into one of the vacant barstools, signalling to the bartender as they make the rounds across the counter.
The rows of silver bracelets that hang around the bartender's wrists cling as they mix and shake drinks, and you let yourself get lost in the glittering light show of them reflecting off the bar lights. They distract you enough to not notice the man that now leers over you.
You flinch when you feel his hand touch your shoulder, and when you turn expecting one of the guys from the Bear you're taken back when you're met with a five o clock shadow and a stink of vodka.
“What's a girl like you doin’ all alone?” 
“I’m good” You grit out from between your teeth
“Oh c’mon, you girls love to play hard but what you really need-”
“I said leave me alone asswhole” You spit, roughly moving his latched fingers from your shoulder. 
The man sneers, his voice growing louder and sloppy as he begins to swear at you. His hands find their way to your waist, and the shiver of disgust turns into a familiar sharp pain as you shout out.
“You fucking bitch” The man starts, before you see the flash of dirty blonde curls cover your vision and the feeling of his fingers around you is wrenched off.
Carmen’s hands are around his neck, and he slams him into the wooden floors of the Bar with ease. He holds him there before turning to look up at you, his eyes blown out and his eyebrows furrowed behind his curls. Your chest heaves as you meet his gaze, and you watch as his eyes trail down your body, almost surveying the extent of your injuries and filing it into his mind so that it is all he thinks about when he breaks the skin across his knuckles.
You watch Carmen work, watch the way his shoulders and back contorts under every movement that lands a punch into the man's face. The buzzing chatter of the bar increases, as people begin to take notice of the shouts of frazzled swears and slobby slurs that leave the man's mouth. Someone screams there is a fight, and the bartender mutters obscenities as they try to push through the crowd.
Carmen lands punch after punch into his face, with no real sense of stopping as his movements grow more and more crazed with every crack of skin and dribble of blood that paints his hands. Carmen's eyes look determined, like he had a goal to all of this, and when Richie and the rest of the team pushes past the crowd and shouts out to him to stop, he looks up at you do you know.
You didn’t get to see what he had done to your husband, or how. But now, he takes his time with the man under him who kicks and fails, blubbering out blood and drool. He continues to stare at you, and the rest of the patrons look on in horror as the man under Carmen becomes disguised by the brutality of Carmens fists across his body. You hear the crack of bone, and when the man screams out a loose and garbled apology from the swollen tongue of his mouth, does Carmen flick his eyes down to him.
“You’re sorry? Yeah?” Carmen murmurs, softly
The man nods eagerly, his mouth filling with blood and his eyes swollen
“I’m not sure I believe that” Carmen replies, sending his foot into the mans stomach as he keels over
“Okay, Carmen that's enough” Richie calls out
“All I did was ask her a question!” The man screams out, his words jagged and unclear
“Hey, you shut the fuck up” Richie replies, before clocking his head to try and meet Carmens gaze who is back on you
“Look man, I get it. That one time wasn’t enough, but you can’t keep doing this”
Carmen grinds his teeth, as you look on in awe as his knuckles bleed violently, throwing his arm up and swinging down onto the man.
You got what you needed from this, and so when you step closer to Carmen and turn your head to the side you can only think of one thing
“I’m banned for at least 12 months” 
You watch his fingers loosen around the man's bloody shirt, and Carmen wipes his hands across the man's chest before slowly straightening up from his crouched position.
“Get the fuck out, the both of you before the cops get here” The bartender grits out, shaking his head.
Carmen nods, “I’m not fucking sorry”
“Yeah yeah I know” The bartender rolls his eyes, before you grab Carmen's arm and push through the gawking faces of onlookers
You find a door leading out to a side alleyway, and you both fall out from the door into a combined heap.
“I had to do it okay? The way he was looking at you and that fucking hand around your side I couldn’t just let him-“ Carmen starts, chest heaving up and down and the splatter of spit and blood across his jaw
You don’t let him finish the rushed words that fall out of his mouth before you cover it with your own. Gripping onto the loose collar of his shirt, you drink down the anger and violence that had been festering on the both of you.
Carmen tastes sweet, like the cranberry jus he had been preparing, and rough too, like his worn workmen jacket and the pepper taste of his nicotine gum.
You realise then that you would never taste something as great as that, and that you would be chasing the feeling of how Carmen’s lips against your own vibrates through you from head to foot.
You pull away with quickness, chest heaving and eyes wide as you feel Carmen’s mouth warm your chest.
Carmen doesn’t blink, he stares at you, the brittle Chicago winter blowing his hair across his forehead and the distant sound of sirens and he stares at you.
“I’m not sorry” You whisper, pressing your lips together
“Good” Carmen replies before you’ve even uttered the last word.
And when you blink the cold smoke of his breath is over you again, his inked fingers cradle your head and he takes your mouth again.
You don’t stop the crash of your open mouths and dipping tongues until the warmth of Carmen covers you entirely, until November in Chicago feels like July.
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taglist !
@kpopgirlbtssvt @hansfics @nolita-fairytale @parmforcarm @rooster-bradshaw
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spotsandsocks · 3 days ago
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What's My Flavour ? 8K
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Buck settles down in LA and opens a juice bar across the street from a well established coffee shop called Diaz Brews. The owner is not particularly impressed by either his new neighbor or juice in general.
Juice puns, grumpy Eddie and the inevitable happen.
Buck watches his sister spin in a circle, her brown eyes wide as she takes in the four walls of the shop he’s just bought.
Turning back to face him the smile on her face ignites one on his own and Buck recognises the warm feeling in his chest as love and pride. Maddie closes the distance between them until she’s snug in his arms, her own arms wrapped tightly around his waist and squeezing. Resting his chin on her head he lets his gaze drift. It’s taken a while to find the right place for them but  he has a good feeling about this. It’s the right choice for him, for them. 
“I’m really excited about this, Maddie.” He feels her chuckle against his chest then she leans away to look up at him. 
“Me too Evan. It’s going to be perfect.”
Buck detangles himself from his sister and bounces off to one side of the room. 
“I thought counter here.” His arms gesture wildly then he spins pointing at the wall, “menus up there.” He circles her beaming, “tables and seats this way. Some fridges for the ready made juices once we know what’s gonna be most popular and here.” He stops by a different wall and circles his hands over the floor.
“I thought we could have a kids area, do it up for drawings and maybe do story time sometimes so the parents can relax and stuff.
He blushes at Maddie’s soft smile, “What? You know I love kids.”
She crosses to him and hugs him again. “I know you do and you're just a big kid yourself.” 
She laughs at his put upon sigh, “Come on Mads I’m a responsible business owner now.”
She laughs again and it’s so good to see her happy. He really thinks it’s the best decision they’ve made in the last three years of traveling to come to LA and open a juice bar together. He knows Maddie wants to settle down and he wants whatever makes her happy. He really thinks this could be it. 
A week later the renovations are well under way the juice bar that’s going to be his future taking shape. It’s exciting the only thing he still needs to decide on is a name, he’s been throwing ideas out at Maddie working on his juice puns with variable success.
Right now they’re taking a break, grabbing a coffee from a shop opposite them, he’s brought a list of ideas that he’s been working on because Maddie had discarded his most recent idea ‘Juice do it’ yesterday.
They sit at the table and he flips open his pad. “Sooooo.” 
His sister groans, “Buck, I’m not sure I’m strong enough for more juice puns today. Maybe you should try and think of something different. Maybe just Buckley Juices.”
“Seriously Mads that’s so boring who names their business after themselves, someone with no imagination that’s who. Dull people Maddie. Dull boring people do that and I am not dull!” 
At just that moment their coffees are delivered to their table and his is placed down rather firmly, liquid sloshing up the sides  but not actually spilling over. 
Buck looks up to say thank you to their server despite the clumsy delivery  and finds himself staring into a pair of brown eyes. The guy would be handsome if he wasn’t frowning down at him. Buck's smile drops away. Not particularly friendly service here, he probably won’t come back in a hurry. Coffee’s bad for you anyway, he’s been planning on cutting down. The server turns and leaves without a word. He pushes the handsome stranger from his mind and refocuses.
“How about “The Main Squeeze? Squeeze The Day?” 
He looks at his notes.  “or Perfect- Juice the way you are.” 
keep reading
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bestlilithian · 1 day ago
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My experiences with synastry
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8th house synastry
By far, my favorite. Intense, transcendal, deep. It goes beyond the physical and mental, reaches straight into your soul. The sexual tension is palpable, and at the same time it feels like home.
( do note that i have pluto influencing my ic and moon so your and my idea of 'home' might be a bit different ♡ lmao )
Moon in 8th house:
- absolute favorite. the connection runs deep, if you let it. when you meet this person you will know pretty early on that the potentional for intense bonding is immense. for every person i met with this, after a while i look in their eyes and think 'we could absolutely ruin eachother in the best way possible'.
- the sexual tension breaches the physical and turns almost emotional. like, 'i want to fuck you so hard that you cry' type shit. of course, every 8th house connection has some kind of sexual electricity constantly present, but i've found that w this placement, it's .. profound.
- so far , i've only been the house person, and i've found that the way the moon person looks at me is like nothing i've seen before. i mean, the eye contact being intense is a given w any 8th overlay but w this one it's ... wow. it's a simultaneous pleading to 'come closer, enter my world, feel my essence' and a threat to 'stay away, you see to far into me, you know too much'.
- it's obsessive. on my side (house) at least. by obsessive i mean ... obsessive. one of them is a crush that i haven't been able to put out for a fucking year, even with no contact. in fact, funnily enough, when i thought i was totally over it, all it took was to see her again and make eye contact - immediately, i was thrown for a loop. we didn't even exchange words directly, it was a group setting .. but the eye contact was absolutely enough. crazy.
- as the house person, i feel like the moon person can feel that i see straight through them. another thing i've noticed is that the moon person usually seems a little intimidated/nervous around me, especially at first.
- the thing with this overlay is that it can get hard to take real action on the connection because it's anything but lighthearted. you can clearly tell that if you pursue it, it's gonna get deep and that can range from inconvenient to uncomfortable, or even scary for someone who's not used to 8th house/pluto/scorpio energy.
Lilith in 8th house
- the sexual tension. is. insane. i'm talking .. concerning. i've had this w a friend, a guy who's not my type in the slightest (and i dont really like guys in general, mind you), but there's this kind of ... sexual energy in the air. like, we're not gonna do anything about it, but it's there. and it's not even physical, for me at least - i dont find him attractive physically its just .. a compulsive feeling.
- now, when i have it w someone i actually find attractive, even a little bit, it gets scaled up to the extreme. the moment i see this person, i'm immediately attracted to them. instant. they don't even have to be my type, but if they are - my god, if they are ...
- i am usually lilith in this overlay, and i often find myself wanting to corrupt the house person, to pull them into my dark erotic world. this synastry really brings out my lilith energy even more.
- as lilith i love teasing the house person & i want to see them squirm. i wanna dominate them & see them fall apart beneath me (in the best way possible)
- this is very much a 'i can ruin them' type connection (not in a malicious way)
- i automatically feel confident around this person, no matter if i felt insecure the rest of the day; its like the house person awakens my dark feminine energy just w their presence (and thats a damn good feeling)
Sun & Mercury in 8th house
- honestly this ones interesting; if your connection is platonic, it wont add weird undertones, if its not , it will heighten the attraction significantly.
- it will be really easy and satisfying to talk about your secrets, your past, your traumas, your pain, as well as your kinks, sexual preferences & sexual experiences w this person.
- you will be able to tell this person the naked, blunt truth about them to their face, and vice versa, esp eith mercury in 8th overlay
sun conjunct lilith
- i was lilith and its .. fun. sun brings out my 'bad' side. the fun one.
- as lilith, i find sun really cute, and i try to figure them out, cause i feel like they arent really as naive & innocent as they seem to be.
- sun may be a little scared of lilith here. :)
pluto conjunct lilith
- i have yet to experience this but from what i've heard i love, love, love .
- think bonnie n clyde, mr and mrs smith. they can appreciate eachothers shadow and its very exciting
- hearsay says the sex is mindblowing but i cant confirm or deny
pluto conjunct ascendant
- my mothers pluto is conjunct my ascendant and she literally fucked me up royally soo be careful w this one yall
- pluto will try to control the ascendant and have power over them
- pluto tries to control ascendants behavior, appearance, mannerisms, social etiquett, even food intake sometimes
- i have never seen this be a healthy dynamic but i would love to be proven wrong
lilith square ascendant
every time a man's lilith squares my ascendant, an angel dies. i swear to fucking god, this synastry is a hot, headache-inducing mess.
now, ive only ever had this with men so take it w a grain of salt.
whenever a mans lilith squared my ascendant, the situation was the same:
he had a crush, and then there was .. me. he loved one girl, truly, but had an intense, weird, sexual obsession with me (that often scared him).
he was extremely attracted to me, but reluctant to admit it directly. wanted to 'tame' me, make me 'well-behaved'. we argued at least once within 24h of knowing eachother.
heavy sexual tension, but in a irritating, conflicting way. reallyy intense eye contact, but almost forbidden.
they all, at some point, iced me out in one way or another, deliberately avoided me, seemingly for no reason.
lilith in 7th house
this ones weird.
- we kinda have beef, but not really
- we either completely agree with eachother or utterly disagree
- mixed feelings
- switching between liking and disliking eachother
- sexual tension, but in an annoying way
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shiftthemoon · 2 days ago
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reality shifting isn’t hard. you’ve been told it’s hard because everyone’s too scared to admit it’s not. they cling to their 800-step methods, their must-have crystals, their perfect conditions because they think that if they let go of that control, they’ll fail. but here’s the thing: the more you try to control the process, the more you convince yourself it’s out of your control. and that’s the problem. that’s why so many people feel stuck. shifting isn’t some big, far-fetched thing. it’s just you. it’s always been you.
we’re conditioned to think we’re powerless. think about it—school, work, society, all of it drills this idea into us that everything has to be proven, earned, validated. so, when you hear about shifting, your brain freaks out and says, wait, wait, this is too easy, this can’t be real. and then you spiral. you overcomplicate it. you make yourself think you need the “perfect” script, the “right” subliminal, or that you have to meditate for three hours while the stars align perfectly. like, no… you don’t. all of that? it’s fluff. it’s noise.
at its core, shifting is belief. just belief. no, really, let that sink in. you don’t need to “do” belief perfectly. it’s not something you master through sheer willpower. it’s something you already have. you’ve believed in things your whole life. you believed in gravity without needing proof. you believe your favorite songs are beautiful without needing to explain why. belief is natural. it’s effortless when you stop overthinking it. that’s the energy you need to bring to shifting—trust. trust that your mind knows what it’s doing, and that if you let it, it will take you there. every single extra thing you pile on? the overthinking, the doubt, the need for guarantees? that’s what’s slowing you down. not the “lack of progress,” not some mythical “block”—it’s you convincing yourself it’s harder than it is.
and let’s talk about social media for a second. oh my god, the shifting community on social media… i get it. it’s comforting to see other people on this journey. but let’s be honest—how much of that content is actually helping you? like, really? 90% of the time, scrolling through shifting advice isn’t inspiring; it’s overwhelming. everyone’s got their own opinions, their own “best methods,” their own rules. one person says scripting is a must, another says it’s a waste of time. one person swears by affirmations, another says visualization is the only way. and before you know it, you’re sitting there questioning everything you thought you knew, wondering if you’ll ever get it “right.” spoiler alert: you already know how to shift. you don’t need a thousand voices telling you what to do. in fact, the more you listen to them, the harder it becomes to hear yourself.
take a break. seriously. log off the apps. give yourself space to breathe and think. ask yourself: why do i want to shift? what’s stopping me? what feels right to me? no tiktok trend, youtube guide, or reddit post can answer those questions for you. only you can. and i know that sounds scary. we’ve been conditioned to think we need external validation for everything, but shifting is a deeply personal thing. you don’t need a step-by-step tutorial. you need to trust your instincts. that’s it.
and let me be clear: i’m not saying methods or subliminals are bad. they’re fine if they help you feel aligned. but they’re not what makes shifting happen. you are. methods are just tools. if you use them, great. if you don’t, that’s great too. because the truth is, shifting isn’t about doing things “right.” it’s about letting go of the idea that you need to.
so let me break it down for you. the only things you really need to shift are:
1. a desire. you have to want to go to your desired reality. no brainer, right?
2. belief. this is the big one. you have to trust it’s possible. no “what ifs,” no “but hows.” just trust.
3. persistence. if it doesn’t happen right away, that’s okay. don’t give up. if you’ve ever learned to ride a bike, you know that falling doesn’t mean you can’t do it—it just means you’re learning. shifting is the same.
that’s it. no fancy rituals, no endless research, no “perfect” conditions. the process is simple because it’s natural. you’ve probably done it before without even realizing it— the only reason it feels hard now is because you’ve convinced yourself it has to be.
stop making it harder than it needs to be. shifting isn’t this unattainable, mystical thing reserved for “chosen ones.” it’s something anyone can do. you can do it. your mom can do it. that anti-shifter lurking in every crevice of shiftblr could do it. you’ve always been capable. but you have to stop getting in your own way. stop doubting yourself. stop relying on others to tell you what’s possible. this is your journey. own it.
and above all, be patient. shifting is not a race. it’s not about how fast you can get there or how perfect your dr is. it’s about trust, intention, and focus. log off, tune into yourself, and let it happen. shifting has always been yours to claim. it’s not something you need permission for. it’s not something you need to earn. it’s just you, your mind, and your belief. always has been, always will be.
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m1guelsgf · 2 days ago
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Hi I have request for axel. I was wondering what if axel and reader already has a pre-established relationship. The reader is sam sister which she was bitter that she took the spot for female captain for miyagi-do but leading up to the sekai Taikai it revealed that she was the new captain for the iron Dragons also can you make her and axel an unbeatable team. Thank you so so much i appreciate you
jealousy, jealousy
axel kovacevic x larusso!reader
this is such a fun concept, i hope u like it!! kind of rushed it bc i took too long on it and i wanted it finished but if this does well, i'll write a pt.2!
send more reqs! i love working on the ideas you guys have. my other axel req will be out probably after christmas (also working on my short film so i'm very busy lately) but i have an idea for a miguel fic and a kwon fic so lmk what u wanna see!! enjoy the fic!! also no sam hate pls thats my bbg.
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being the eldest larusso daughter came with a lot of privilege and a lot of expectations. you and your father were close because you took after his love for martial arts. you had your mothers beauty and sense of humor. you were the envy of encino, riding around in a nice car while spending your daddy's money. you were spoiled, of course, but that didn't mean you hadn't earned everything that came your way. you lived up to the expectations your parents set for you, which is probably why your siblings so often threw your name around in vain. you were at the top of your class. you were a 2 time all valley champ just like your dad, until miguel and cobra kai came back to town. you had even competed internationally, winning silver and gold in different tournaments, which is where you met your boyfriend.
axel kovacevic.
the two of you met in italy, where you competed in the same tournament. your dad was oblivious to the relationship because your mom, amanda, was on the trip as well and the two of them can get distracted with each other. especially in a foreign country.
ever since then, you had a long distance relationship with axel. you spent hours on the phone, running up the bill with international calls until one day your mom asked you about it and you confessed. you were dating the croatian gold medal martial artist, and you maybe even loved him.
your dad freaked out, obviously, taking away your phone for days until finally giving in and letting you be with him (not that it would have stopped you anyways). you two were long distance for a year before both being informed of the opportunity to compete in the sekai tekai. it never bothered you that you were in different dojos, and axel never seemed to mind either. your relationship worked well but you often wished to be closer to him. which is why when the sekai tekai came around, you were giving it your all.
you dominated all the challenges and lessons you were put through and it all came down to the match against either your sister or tory for the captain spot. you were anxious to get it over with. they were skilled, but you knew you were better. you had been at it for longer, you had competed and won against tougher opponents. they didn't want this as bad as you. there was only one thing you really wanted at the end of the day and that was to be able to call axel and tell him you were going to be the captain of your team too.
after robby had won his match against miguel and secured his spot as captain, it was time for tory and sam to fight. the winner would fight you for the captain spot. sam had been on her game recently. she had been training hard and getting prepared for the match. tory, on the other hand, was nearly jumping out of her skin. her eyes were swollen and puffy like she had been crying and she was bouncing on her toes. electric energy sparked when they both got on the sparring deck.
it was intense. tory was fighting ferociously, in a way you hadn't seen since she switched sides. it was almost no surprise to you when your dad stopped the match. the surprise came in it being revealed that tory's mother had just died. both you and johnny rushed to tory's defense.
"well if sam doesn't want to fight her, i will." you weren't afraid of the challenge and you knew what it would mean to tory to be able to finish the fight. you didn't know the type of grief she was going through but you could tell that it wasn't going to be worked through by doing nothing.
"y/n, listen to dad." sam, ever the teacher's pet, shook her head. "it's not right."
"what's not right is us not listening to what she needs." you shot back. "we can hug and kiss later, right now she needs to let it all out."
"i understand sweetheart, but this isn't the right way." your dad shook his head at you.
"you don't understand! none of you understand! you just don't want me to beat your daughters." tory shouted at your dad and sam. "she would have wanted me to fight, i have to do this for her. just let us fight."
"tory..." robby approached her and she immediately softened.
"robby, no..." she tried to pull her hands away from his but he held onto her.
"we'll decide who's captain another way. i can't let this fight continue."
"you want this fight to be over. fine. it's over." tory stormed off.
"where are you going?" robby called out after her.
"i'm done!" she shouted before leaving.
"what was that?" your dad looked at you, disappointment all over his face. "we don't teach violence as a solution. that's not the miyagi do way."
you sighed, still angry that they wouldn't let tory finish the fight. "how are you going to decide on a captain, dad? if you're not gonna let us fight? are you just going to choose your favorite, because we all know it's going to be sam."
"y/n, that's not fair." daniel shook his head.
"what's not fair is you and sam not letting tory fight." you shook your head and walked off.
"where are you going?" sam called out after you.
"i'm done too. congratulations sam." you got in your car and drove home, sending tory a text that never got a response.
by the time your parents got home, you had finished showering off the day. you were sitting in your room, drying your hair when your dad knocked.
"hey, sweetie." he started.
"is this about the tournament?"
"yes." he was honest. "i think you're making a mistake by dropping out just because you're mad at me. i know tory is your friend and she's grieving right now but you have worked your whole life this. don't throw away your opportunity."
"are you going to give me a fair shot at captain?" you asked.
"it's not that simple. you're one of the best in the class. you're the only one who has fought on the level we are going to. this may be their only and last opportunity to go this far. we need to give them a chance to win."
you laughed bitterly. "so because i'm the best, you're keeping me on the sidelines for the biggest opportunity of my life. how does that make sense?"
"i'm not keeping you on the sidelines, i'm just giving the others a chance to prove themselves."
"well, now theres a spot open so someone else can prove themselves." you and your dad stared at each other for a moment before he left your room. he knew you shared his temper so he understood it would be a while before you forgave him.
"hey- are you crying?" axel's expression quickly changed. he had answered your facetime while on a break from practice.
"no... yeah..." you sighed. "i'm not competing in the sekai tekai."
"what happened?"
"my dad. he said i've already won tournaments, so i need to give others the chance to win." you rolled your eyes, still upset at your dad for not giving you and tory a fair shot at competition.
"that's stupid." he furrowed his brows. "they're going to lose without you."
"i know." you frowned. "and i told him that but he doesn't want to listen and i don't want to compete if i'm not captain."
it was silent for a moment before axel had a realization. "you should be our captain."
you laughed a little, not thinking he was serious until you looked at his face on the screen of your phone. "you don't mean it."
"i do. zara is training with a master in japan so we have the open spot. sensei wolf was just going to borrow from another dojo but i'll tell him about you."
your heart skipped a beat. were you really willing to switch teams and turn your back on not only your friends but your family as well? "i'm in. i can talk to him too if that will help."
"let me talk to him first."
"thank you axel." you smiled at him. "how's training?"
"intense."
"is your sensei being the worst again?" you asked, knowing what sensei wolf could be like based on what axel told you.
"yeah. our team has a new sponsor so we've been learning new techniques. sensei wolf doesn't want us to lose a single point." axel sighed out.
"well if anyone can handle it, it's you." you responded. "plus, i can't wait to say that my boyfriend won the sekai tekai."
"i can't wait to say that my girlfriend won the sekai tekai." axel flashed his million dollar smile at you. "i have to go but i'll call you tomorrow okay?"
"okay. bye axel."
"bye."
you set your phone down and looked in the mirror. you couldn't believe you were ready to betray your friends and family to compete in the world championship of karate. you could feel the guilt creeping up but you pushed it down with your anger, remembering that your dad and sister took away the one thing you cared about. they knew this was your life. they didn't care about trophies or medals but you did.
three days before the competition, your dad was still trying to talk to you. "i understand if you're still mad at me but don't be mad at sam. she needs your support. we all do." daniel spoke from across the kitchen table.
you bit your tongue, still bitter and upset at the both of them for the way things turned out. you needed them to think you weren't still upset. "i'm not mad. anymore, at least."
"so you'll coach us?" sam asked from her spot at the table.
"on one condition." you looked at your dad. "i want to go to barcelona a day early."
"what? why?"
"to see axel. he's competing. this is the first time i get to see him in months." you explained, hoping they would leave it at that.
the second you mentioned your boyfriends name, daniel stiffened up. "i don't know..."
"come on, dad. its not like anything can happen. we're just gonna get dinner together. he has to train all day anyways, i just want a normal date with my boyfriend before all the karate drama." you pleaded and daniel was never able to say no to you, especially when you gave him the puppy dog eyes that he used to use on his mom.
daniel looked between you and sam. you were looking at him expectantly and sam was nodding, encouraging him to give you what you wanted so they could have your support.
"i want you back in your hotel room no later than 11. you stay safe, keep your location on, text me every couple of hours." daniel spoke his list of conditions. "okay?"
"okay." you nodded.
"okay." sam repeated, smile on her face.
"i love you, honey." your dad kissed the side of your head. "the both of you. i'm gonna go make all the arrangements for you to leave tomorrow."
"thanks dad." you smiled at him and you were starting to feel bad for lying to them but you had committed to your decision already and that was final.
"do you... want to spar with me?" sam asked. "so we can work some of this stuff between us out. you're my sister and i hate us being mad at each other."
you took a deep breath. "i'm not mad at you. i have to start packing anyways. maybe later." you said, knowing later would never come.
when you got off the plane, your heart started racing when it finally hit you that you were seeing axel. you were getting to see your boyfriend after months of long distance. you were also joining his dojo. you had always envied sam a little bit for how perfect her social life was. all her friends trained at her dojo and her boyfriend was arguably the top fighter of the dojo. sam's friends automatically became your friends and you didn't mind because of how great they were, but you also felt like you weren't an individual. you were sam's sister and daniel's daughter and all you wanted to be was yourself. the female champion whose boyfriend is the male champion.
catching a glimpse of axel, your mind immediately went blank. you hadn't seen him in person since the tournament last year in new york where the both of you took gold, and now he was right in front of you. you both started walking to close the distance and once he was within arms length of you, he pulled you into a deep kiss.
axel had been waiting for this, just like you. it killed him that he didn't have you within close reach at all times and now he never wanted to let you go. he kissed you like it was his air. his frame completely shadowed yours as he pulled you closer to him.
"axel!"
the both of you turned in the direction of the voice, axel still holding you close to himself protectively. it was sensei wolf, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed and an amused smirk on his face.
"you'll have time for that later." he spoke and waved you two to follow him through the crowd of people in the airport. axel snaked his arm around your waist and led the way as he followed his sensei.
the car ride was silent. you didn't know what to say or if saying nothing would be better so you stayed silent and held onto axel's hand.
"you're not going to be a distraction for my champion, are you?" sensei wolf asked once you were in one of the gym spaces of the hotel.
you shook your head no. "i came to win."
"and what makes you think that you can?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at you. "you may be a champion, but what makes you good enough to be my champion?" you didn't know what to say. of course you had dealt with sensei lawrence's constant questioning and pushing. he always refused to treat you any differently than your teammates just because you're a world champion and a larusso. this was different. it felt like sensei wolf was trying to humble you- no, humiliate you. "i'll tell you what, if you can land a point on me then i won't get in between you and axel. how 'bout that?" he offered, outstretching his hands like he was offering himself up.
you shook your head and turned around like you were about to walk away before doubling back with a hook kick that he narrowly dodged.
"there it is." sensei wolf laughed and took a fighting position. "come on." he beckoned you closer before performing a complex kick that you blocked and countered with your own. he grabbed onto your leg mid air and pushed it away, effectively dropping you to the mat. you grunted, feeling your anger start to rise. he was playing with you.
you stood back up and took your stance again. "hai!" you shouted and began attacking, using a combination of everything you learned from chozen and johnny to attack him tactically but aggressively. you threw multiple combinations of strikes, making wolf keep up his defense. his defense was as good as chozen's and you were struggling to break it.
"enough!" he was starting to get annoyed with how long the fight was going on for. before you could throw another punch, he kicked you. you blocked it with your forearms but he then dropped you to the floor with another kick to the face. "okay, i can admit that you're good."
"i'm not done." you blinked away the tears in your eyes from the forceful kick and quickly hopped back to your feet. you held your hands out in front of you and began performing a kata. it caught him off guard but he laughed you off.
"fine. have it your way." he threw a punch which you blocked with the drum technique. he threw another and another and another and then shouted in frustration when none of them landed. you noticed how you were managing to get him off his balance as his breathing was starting to become more erratic and rushed as he tried to break your defense. in a quick movement, you snaked your way around his body, arm wrapped around his torso, and took him to the floor with you. it was a struggle, as he had a tight grip on one of your arms but you managed to roll over him and strike him in the face.
"point." you panted, standing up and walking away as fast as you could. your heart was racing. you were actually doing this. it wasn't anything like you thought it'd be. you were honestly a little scared. "axel and i are going out tonight." you said when you reached the door, turning around to see sensei wolf staring at you with a curious gaze.
"i can't believe you actually got a point on sensei wolf." you and axel were sitting at a bar near the beach. it was a perfect night. you were under axel's arm, head resting on his shoulder.
"yeah, after he got like 3 on me." you muttered, swirling the mai tai around in its glass. you both had already had a pleasant dinner and now were sharing drinks.
"still. i'm sure he's impressed. i'm impressed." he kissed the side of your head. you only smiled and leaned closer into his side. you definitely were enjoying the normal evening you got to spend with your boyfriend. your love life had been intertwined with karate and while it still was, it was like you could forget all of that and you and axel could just be a couple with no other worries. "are you ready for tomorrow?"
"yes." you answered quickly. he looked down at you with a questioning look, already knowing your tendency to talk fast when you're nervous. "i mean, yeah. i'm ready to fight and i'm ready for the challenges that are coming..."
"but...?" axel asked, knowing you were holding something back.
"but i'm nervous to face everyone. you know, my family. i lied to them." you were feeling guilty, which was a big part of why you couldn't completely enjoy yourself with axel. you felt evil, letting them believe that you came to help them.
"they'll understand. eventually." axel took a sip of your shared drink.
"i hope so." you were already imagining the betrayal on everyone's faces when they finally saw you in the iron dragons gi. "i know sam is gonna be pissed. and my dad is gonna have that disappointed look on his face. and sensei lawrence is gonna-"
"hey. i know it's hard, but don't worry about them. it's you and me now." axel had a soft look in his eyes. "just us."
you nodded. "just us." a soft song started playing ans you immediately stood up and held your hand out. "wanna dance?"
"of course." he took it and the two of you walked onto the dance floor. in the middle of all the people, you still only had your focus on axel. it was just the two of you as you swayed to the music.
axels hands were resting on your hips and yours were on his arms. he twirled you around and pulled you close, to where your back was pressed against his chest. "i missed you." he whispered in your ear, pressing an open mouthed kiss against your cheek. your face turned red and you tilted your head to the side to allow him more access.
"i missed you too." you looked at him over your shoulder and he captured your lips in a kiss. it was full of want- the both of you wanting each other so bad for so long and finally being able to have each other. it felt like a dream. the warm, dim bar lights were making everything fuzzy around you and you could only feel the heat of axels palms through your clothes as he all but pried your mouth open with the kiss.
when he pulled away, the both of you had matching glossy lips and dazed expressions. you were both buzzed from the drinks you had and it was making you two all smiley and giggly as you fell into movement with the crowd.
the night ended in a long detour on the way back to the hotel as the both of you wanted to walk on the beach. you both made it back to your rooms with swollen lips, little love bites on your skin, and sand in your shoes.
morning training was no joke. axel had told you about sensei wolfs intense regimen but you didn't expect to have to participate. "if you wanna be an iron dragon, you have to train like an iron dragon." he had told you before the 3 mile run in the morning. you held your tounge when you really wanted to tell him that you didn't want to be an iron dragon at all. you had also heard from axel that his temper was quick and you didn't want to be on the receiving end of that.
'hey sweetheart, we just landed. be at the hotel soon.'
your dad texted you and you typed out a white lie.
'okay, me and axel are getting lunch. will see you in the arena tonight.'
'be safe. tell axel i said hi. love you."
'okay dad, love u 2'
you turned to axel. you were at the end of your training session and it was almost time to head into the arena. "my dad said hi." axel smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. he had only ever met your dad in passing. your dad found out you were dating axel after the last time you had seen him in person. you didn't mind it, considering your dad always got involved in all your relationships. it was nice to know axel recognized you as an individual and not the daughter of daniel larusso. it dawned on you that sensei wolf probably had no idea who you were or anything about miyagi do karate and that made it a little sweeter.
"are you ready?" he stood up and held his hand out to you. you took it and let him pull you up.
"yes." you nodded after taking a deep breath. "are you ready?"
"i can do anything with you by my side." he leaned down and kissed you softly. "let's go."
inside the arena, you felt a strange mix of confidence and anxiety. you were prepared for this tournament. you had earned your right to be there and you were ready to fight until you were the last one standing. you couldn't help feeling anxious over having to see the miyagi do's. it was sinking in that you weren't wearing a bonsai on your back and fighting on the same team as your sister.
then you saw them. they were taking their place at the edge of the mat. miguel was the first to notice you. he didn't look away from your eyes as he tugged on the sleeve of sam's gi to get her attention. he nodded in your direction and it was almost like she was looking through you, the way she didn't immediately spot you. eventually she did though, and her face fell.
it was a chain reaction, miguel told sam, sam told robby, robby told his dad, his dad told your dad, and then your dad was finally looking at you with betrayal and disappointment all over his face.
you could only stand there, one piece of your heart on the other side of the mat. at least you knew axel was on your side, with the other half of your heart.
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cherryblooom · 1 day ago
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Enchanted - Oscar Piastri [introduction]
Summary: After being forced of moving mid-year of school, the least thing you expected was getting a crush in a cute boy who loves karting and actually being corresponded. I mean, you have always wanted to have a romance like the books but forgot all the struggles and challenges that comes with it.
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Pairing: Teen!Oscar Piastri x Teen!Reader
navigation series masterlist
Warnings: period shaming, bullying, reader has some questionable thoughts and self-contempt, animal abuse (no details). mostly narration.
Author note: This is my very first work ever, please be nice and reblog if you liked it!
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Everything felt very surreal. You can feel your eyes stinging, fighting not to let out those tears that you had been holding in since before you left the house.
There wasn't much traffic, but you weren't sure if that was a good thing or if you just wanted to delay the impossible. You knew it was necessary but couldn't help feeling guilty for your parents for having to move across the country and leave everything they knew behind. Your father had lived his entire life working and building his company from scratch and thanks to endless nights, you and your mother were just beginning to see the fruits of his hard work, of course, before all the shitshow happened. Your parents had done everything they could to make you understand that their anger was not your fault and not directed towards you, it was actually the opposite, but you couldn't help feeling resentful and like a freaking failure.
You played with the apps on your phone in a failed attempt to distract yourself but couldn't help to grimace when you opened the Instagram app and saw your now private profile. You followed some famous people but you only had 10 followers as all the others were deleted by your mother.
''I'm sorry for making you move and leave everything behind. Dad, the company...''
''Honey, no. Stop it!'' your father replied after lowering the volume of the radio while your mother, who was in the passenger seat next to him, turned around with a look of concern. ''We already talked about it, you're not guilty of what happened and we're not angry at you. We should have protected you and been there for you but we realized it too late but I promise you that we are going to leave all this in the past and although you don't want to believe it now, we love you and we always will.'' She was right, you couldn't believe her. Your mind was going down a somewhat dark path and you were sure that if your mother had even the slightest idea of what was going on in your head, she wouldn't hesitate to send you to a psychologist. ''Plus, you will love the new house! It has a beautiful patio and a pool where you can practice in case you want to join the swimming team at your new school.’’ She told you slightly excited, trying to pass on the feeling to you but you didn't have the heart to tell her that it wouldn't be possible, so you just nodded and looked out the window again.
You could feel your mother's gaze on you, perhaps waiting for an answer or even a smile but you didn't have the energy to do it or even fake it.
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You had become what they call a ''bookworm''. Despite having access to technology and internet, you had developed a great love and appreciation for physical books and the smell of a new book excited you more than what is perhaps ''normal'' but thanks to the fact that apparently not many people shared the sentiment, the library was empty most of the time (at least the one located in the junior wing of the school, you didn't know about the one in the senior wing, but you have heard that it has like three floors and a private cafeteria).
You were reading one of your favorite books again and even though you practically knew the story by heart, you couldn’t stop laughing and feeling your heart flutter at the thought of how it would feel to be loved like that. Would you ever be able to find someone who would love and admire you just for being you? Just for existing? You had a love/hate thing for romance books. You read about how the characters were loved, cared for, how they could let go and turn their brains off to just…be. Exist. You knew you had just turned 14 and that according to your parents and the logical part of your brain, you have a whole life waiting ahead of you, but you can’t imagine that someone could love you like that. You couldn’t even make friends, how the hell are you going out to dates? No idea, but you didn’t want to think about it and fall down that rabbit hole. You turned the page, excited as you were only about 10 pages away from your favorite part but decided to leave it for later to read in the comfort of your room.
The alarm distracted you from your book and with it, you knew that you only had 10 minutes left of lunch (you weren't a big fan of the cafeteria, lots of people and noise so the library was always a good choice) and that you had to go to the biology lab, not forgetting to stop by your locker to look for the essay that you have to hand in today. When you reached for your backpack, you felt a strange tug in your stomach that you didn't know how to describe, you had never felt anything like it before, so you were quite confused, but you ignored it since you knew you didn't have much time left.
Then you saw him. A boy your age was entering the library but you turned around facing away from him, so he was unable see you. You barely saw him for a few seconds but boy, was he cute. Is this what you always read about? You didn't even know the boy's name, but you noticed his short brown hair, his rosy cheeks and how tall he was. Was this your first crush? It’s dumb! You watched him for a few seconds but apparently that was enough to make you fantasize what it would be like to talk to him or what his name would be, if he was nice or a jerk like the rest of the boys in your class (which would be a bummer). All of the other girls in your class have no problem talking to boys or making friends in general but here you are, covering your face with your hair so the cute boy you saw for two seconds doesn’t notice your presence.
You walked out of the library with your coat hanging on your backpack, it wasn’t cold so you didn’t need it at the moment. You had 5 minutes before Biology started so you headed to your locker and you always walked close to the walls, that way you drew as little attention as possible. Apparently, old habits die hard. Up until now, you had done a pretty good job of being a regular girl and not drawing attention to yourself. The girls in your class dangerously reminded you of the girl responsible for you having to move and change schools mid-year and the boys in your class are jerks, is the best way you can describe them. There was no way you wanted to run into any of them. You wake up, go to school, go home, do your homework and then go to bed. Same routine, every day. You watched on social media as your other classmates went out, had fun, went to the mall, bought makeup and clothes, posted photos and videos in groups, laughing, and as much as you wished you didn't care, you felt envious. Why can't you be like that? Why do you have to be the little weirdo who always goes unnoticed, and no one pays attention to?
You had to take one more turn to get to your locker when you heard giggles behind you. You turned your head slightly and saw two boys who were a grade above pointing at you and laughing; your chest started to hurt and you felt like there wasn't enough air to breathe. Anxiety, you felt anxious. You ran to your locker as the laughter intensified behind you and you just knew that you were the reason for it. Suddenly, you felt that same tug at the bottom of your belly.
''Oh no, no, no, please don't...'' you whispered almost on the verge of tears. You felt something hit your head and then fall to the ground. You wanted to die when you looked down and saw a sanitary pad that someone had thrown at your head which made the laughter louder.
''Oh no, the weirdo is bleeding out! I hope she has another skirt because yikes.''
''Hey! You're staining the floor, how fucking disgusting!''
''If I was the janitor, I'd make her clean it up. How disgusting.''
''Hey, honestly, how did you not notice? Didn't you feel your vagina wet or smelly or shit? Fuck, I have to get my book, but my locker is next to hers, imagine if it smells. That will be so gross!''
''In case you prefer to put things inside rather than a pad, weirdo'' Someone had thrown two tampons at your head, one of which had gotten tangled in your curls. At this point, you were already sobbing, not being able to hold back the tears and humiliated, all the while you were still turning your back on everyone with the locker open, with fear and shame eating you away.
Suddenly, you felt someone's presence which brought you out of the little dazed status.
''Honey, come on, I'm going to take you to the infirmary. Come on, you're okay, let's go.'' You could tell by the softness of the voice that it was a woman. She was the school's duty nurse. Apparently, someone was kind enough to call her while the others were scoffing. You let yourself be guide towards the infirmary and could distantly hear the nurse demanding them to stop laughing. At this point, you didn't care anymore, you just wanted to get to your bed and cry, that's all.
5 Months Later
You were in the south courtyard of the school, the farthest of all, with your third sketchbook finishing what would be your second attempt at drawing your mother. It would soon be her birthday and although you had already bought her a gift at the mall, you wanted to give her something that only you could do. Besides, she was the number 1 fan of your drawings and she bragged to her friends that her daughter was a great artist. Sometimes it embarrassed you but at the same time you felt good knowing that you had someone on your side, supporting you. With each stroke, you felt your confidence increase and, you had even opened an Instagram’s account for your drawings, and you felt good knowing that there were people who recognized your talent and encouraged you to continue learning, even if they were strangers. Maybe you were not totally alone.
You felt stuck. You couldn’t draw the hands, and with each attempt you only felt like you were screwing up more. Before you got more frustrated, you decided to take a break and continue in the comfort of your bed after eating. When you were about to start packing your things, your notebook fell open right on the last page that always made you blush. The boy from the library, who you now know also plays on the school soccer team (not that you’re stalking him at all) was looking back at you in an unfinished drawing in your sketchbook. You had only seen him passing by the halls and you couldn’t admit out loud that you unconsciously tried to match your schedule with his, like when he had his sports class. Oscar, that was his name, and you knew it thanks to the fact that he was apparently the star in the games and his name was always shouted by the people in the audience. Apart from seeing him in sports class, you didn't get the chance to see him much since he was in a grade above yours.
It was Tuesday, 3:40 PM according to the alarm you had set. School had ended 10 minutes ago but the alarm reminded you that in 5 minutes the soccer practice, Oscar's soccer practice, would start. Pathetic? Yes, but it wasn't a crime to want to appreciate your crush from afar, right?
Before you could leave the courtyard, you saw out of the corner of your eye a cardboard box which was dirty and you swore that it moved for a second. It looked like trash, but it couldn't be since the school has a zero-tolerance policy regarding that and you can literally end up suspended for throwing trash outside the trash bin. They were really strict about that. You approached it with some caution and jumped a little in shock when you saw that it did move and that it wasn't part of your imagination. Your heart stopped when you heard a small sound...a kitten? You approached more confidently, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw that the box didn't have any holes in it and was in fact sealed with many pieces of tape.
In a hurry, you threw your backpack on the floor and took out your scissors to cut the tape. You could feel the adrenaline and fear of what you might find inside if it turned out to be exactly what you thought but still, you carefully but firmly cut the tape. If they turned out to be kittens, you were going to start crying. You took a deep breath and opened it, feeling your eyes water. There were 4 kittens that looked like they couldn't be more than a few weeks old. One was completely white; another was almost completely black but with a few white spots while the last two were a combination of orange and white. One of the orange kittens, unlike its siblings, wasn't meowing and was just lying there barely breathing. You felt your heart break. They looked cold and hungry, so tiny and defenseless. You have always been a cat person, kittens being your weak point. Quickly, you grabbed your backpack, hooking it on your shoulders so you could carry the box without dropping it and you couldn’t run but did your best to walk fast. When you got to the school gate, you called your mom to come pick you up telling her about the box you found and that you wanted to take them to the vet. Your mom knew there was no way you were going to leave them abandoned after finding them so after 10 minutes you were already on your way to the vet with four beautiful kittens with you.
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Your Instagram account dedicated to your drawings has gained 1,000 followers, which was a great achievement for you, but you decided to take that opportunity to post that you had 3 kittens up for adoption. It destroyed you knowing that you couldn't keep the 4 kittens, but your parents had already let you keep Cotton (cliche because the kitten was completely white, you knew it, but you didn't care).
You were appalled while looking at your notifications. Oscar. Yes, that Oscar was messaging you and after checking a little more you realized that he had been following you for a while and you hadn't even noticed. You could feel your cheeks turning red, but you took a breath and remembered that he was only doing that because he wanted to adopt a kitten, you were of zero importance.
my_cherryblossom
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Liked by Oscar_piastri and 57 others
A few weeks ago I found a box sealed with tape that contained 4 kittens inside. It's obvious that the intention of whoever put them there was for them not to survive but I found them just in time. Sadly, I can only keep one, which is why I am giving up the other 3 for adoption! They are so cute and playful.
If you're interested, write me.
P.S. These kittens are my life so if you give me weird vibes, I won't give you one lol
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Radio Check: As mentioned above, this is just the first part of what I hope will be a series telling Oscar x Reade's story. If you'd like to be tagged, let me know! Please Reblog and like!
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sunnfish · 1 day ago
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[ID: A digital illustration of the cast of Sasaki to Miyano. They are all gathered in the disciplinary committee room, talking and interacting with each other. Miyano yells distraught at Hirano, who has a hand to his temple in exasperation. Tashiro is drawing on the whiteboard while gesturing at Hanzawa, doubled over with laughter at the table. Sasaki is walking into the room, waving and smiling at Miyano, while Ogasawara lags behind him in a depressed state from arguing with his girlfriend. Kuresawa watches the room contentedly, and Shirahama ambles towards Tashiro while looking at Sasaki who had just rushed in. Papers, pencils, and binders are strewn about the tables. The illustration is rendered in mostly green-ish hues with blue-ish shadows. The artist’s signature “sunnfish” is written in the corner. /End ID]
GIFT EXCHANGE TIME YAAAAAYYYYY!!! @ssmygiftexchange hi. My gift prompt came from @kotilokiki who wanted lighthearted friendship interactions and stuff and so i decided to just. Put them all in here. All the friendship in one place (disciplinary committee room). I also couldn’t decide what color walls and floors are supposed to be so they’re also Every Color. Don’t worry about it. Anyways I had lots of fun it’s been a while since I’ve drawn anybody other than my favorite guy (tashiro). I can also now rotate the disciplinary committee room layout in my mind. I looked at so many reference photos and that room. Anyways. Peace and love on planet ssmyverse and happiest of holidays to everybody…!!!
Also: a bonus under the cut :3 just an early idea that I decided to clean up a bit :3
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[ID: A digital illustration of characters from Sasaki to Miyano. It is drawn as if Kuresawa is taking a selfie; Kuresawa is in the foreground, flashing a peace sign, Tashiro is behind him, sitting on the table and turning to smile and look at Sasaki, who just walked in to talk to Miyano, who looks bewildered. It is rendered in mostly green and purple hues. The artist’s signature “sunnfish” is written in the top right corner. /End ID]
I like drawing kuresawa taking selfies. He’s going to send this to his girlfriend #yaoimoment. Like I said this was just an earlier iteration of my idea that i had before i decided to add Every Character. But it’s’ still fun :] might post it on its own in a few days too. For fun. Anyways. Peace and love on planet ssmyverse again. ✌️
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funhouse-mirror-barbie · 1 day ago
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Alright I gotta talk about this one too.
I already went over the changes made from the storyboards of Octavia’s song, I Will Be Okay, to the show proper. Well, there were also storyboards of Octavia’s confrontation with Stolas at the palace.
I made the mistake of not crediting the storyboard artist in my first post—the sequence I’ll be taking about was boarded by Sophia Magallanes Morales, a phenomenal artist who also did I Will Be Okay’s storyboards.
I wanted to talk about Sophia’s storyboards for when Octavia goes no contact with Stolas because they are, in my opinion, leagues better than what was in the actual episode. I think a LOT was lost from the decision to cut parts of her storyboards, and to go over it, because I really think it’s shame.
We can actually see this change in quality within the first few seconds of the final scene in the show as opposed to the boards:
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Right after the fight, Stolas runs to Via. He quickly catches up to her as she walks away, and tells her how proud he is of her and pulls her into a hug. We can tell Stolas is concerned about her and eager to get back in touch.
Now let’s look at Sophia’s boards (comparison continues below)
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This scene has so, so much more tension and emotional weight to it. We see exactly how desperate Stolas is to get in contact with Octavia, how in this moment he needs to catch up with her, how urgently he needs to let her know how proud he is and how much he loves her.
He runs so fast that he almost stumbles and falls, so fast that once he does finally catch up to her he has to stop for a moment to catch his breath.
And then he pulls her into a tight hug and we actually get to see his joy at reconnecting with her. We see how proud he is of her. He’s so proud that he has a hard time expressing it first, staring with “I—“ and then just starts over telling her how brave she’s been.
These boards also give us Octavia’s reactions. We see her after the fight staring solemnly in her father’s direction, before she slowly turns away. She doesn’t react to Stolas calling out to her, ignoring him. Once Stolas finally catches her though, she turns back to him slowly, and we can see in her reaction that she is definitely dealing with a lot of feelings.
Sophia is excellent at conveying complex emotions through characters expressions. To me, Octavia expression shows her hurt at Stolas’ neglect, her disbelief that he actually came after her, her confusion as to why he suddenly acting like he cares about her now, her fear that he’ll lie to her again. I think it shows us SO MUCH about what she’s feeling in just a few frames, and that is amazing.
Compared to the final episode, I get so much more information about what Stolas and Octavia are feeling in this moment! The boards show their perspectives on what’s just happened, it shows their current states of mind given the events of the episode!
The direction and movement of the boards are also fantastic, I can tell that Octavia feels forlorn and is tired and done with waiting for Stolas to care about her. I can tell that Stolas is prioritizing Octavia above all else in this moment, that he may regret how long it’s taken him to get to her, how overjoyed and relieved he is to hug her again.
Of course these are only MY interpretations, but regardless there is so much more expression and emotional tension in the boards, as opposed to the final episode where Stolas catches up to Octavia quickly and immediately hugs her while saying he’s proud of her.
In both versions this scene is only a few seconds, but the boards just have so much more depth and in my opinion make for a much, much more impactful scene.
I have NO idea why they chose to cut these storyboards so the way they did. The only reasons that make sense to me would be due to time and budget, and if so it really sucks that we had to lose such a powerful scene.
I think I’ll be making more posts comparing this scene’s storyboards to the final episode because Spindlehorse cut so much of Sophia’s boards, and it not only makes me sad, but also makes me wonder what other emotionally engaging Helluva Boss scenes we’ve lost.
It’s just a real shame.
Again, I’m not saying the final animated episode looks bad. The animation is still stellar! The animators did a great job! I just think it’s a waste to have cut so much out of these scenes.
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