#what even is my role in this family. the 'keep it calm. deal with the problems even not yours. stay quiet. dont open to anyone. be good'?
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Oh to be a middle child and for your parents to tell you they consider you like one of the eldest.. (aKa as if I was the second and not the third like I actually am)
#oh to be the one to mostly calm your youngest sibling down because youre parents are almost always too tired to do it#oh to be considered older and more mature than your older sibling of 5 years#what even is my role in this family. the 'keep it calm. deal with the problems even not yours. stay quiet. dont open to anyone. be good'?#no wonder i feel so close to my eldest sibling when we have almost a one decade age gap#the 2nd and the 4th almost always fight. thats an adult and a child mind you. what is she fighting over trivial things with him who knows#slight vent
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yappologist degree holder ༊*·˚
𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗩𝗢𝗜𝗖𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 about you.
feat. dan heng, aventurine, luocha, jing yuan, gepard, jiaoqiu, argenti and moze (gn!reader)
cw. ooc (very); jiaoqiu talks a lot; [slight] sexual innuendos
note. TRYING SOMETHING NEW GRAHHHHHH i dont think i captured their personalities correctly but 🙏🙏 WE BALL LAMSDOASDI i hope you guys enjoy it >:DD reader is identified as [name] and uses they/them prns (GANG I TRIED MY BEST LAMSDOAMSD) if you see me use fem prns in this piece please tell me <3 lmk if you'd like a pt. 2 w other chars (WOMEN ASHDUASHDUH)
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ DAN HENG
about [name] [name]? what about them?
chat: significant other [name] is my significant other. aside from the express, they’re one of the only ones keeping me grounded whenever i become… “emo”. their words, not mine.
chat: sleep sleep is something i found hard to come by; everytime i closed my eyes, visions of my past appeared. but now that [name] is by my side, it has become easier to fall to a peaceful rest.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ AVENTURINE
about [name] through a game of life or death is how [name] and i met. hm? unconventional you say? well, it’s one of the reasons why i fell for them.
chat: bet betting has become an integral part of [name] and i’s life. while it’s not a common way of expressing your love for someone, it’s how we do things. whether those bets entail having to have the other run errands or even give your own life up, it sends spikes of adrenaline up our bones resulting in a very fun game of cat and mouse.
chat: loss there are seldom games i lose — and most of the time, i still somehow come out as, partially, a winner. but for some reason, whenever i offer a game of chance against [name], i seem to lose every game we have. i can’t lie, i get somewhat annoyed at how i can’t seem to win a game against them. but then again, life would be dull if it were just an unending series of wins.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ LUOCHA
about [name] [name] is a travelling merchant i’ve come to know over the past years of my journeys as one myself. if i didn't have anyone to rely on before, i've got my dearest to thank now.
chat: bargain as a merchant, it is important for me to know how to bargain, especially when deals presented to me are severely unfair for me. i must admit, i wasn’t very good at striking fair deals when i was starting off my path as a travelling merchant. but over the years, [name] has taught me a lot about this art. by observing their ways of negotiating, i am now able to attain very fair and valuable trades.
chat: aromatherapy with [name]’s upbringing as an herb specialist, i get to experience their family’s aromatherapy service. with every scent i am presented with, i am able to clear my mind and slip in the embrace of solitude and calm.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ JING YUAN
about [name] [name] is someone who can ease my troubled mind with an embrace; the calm in my storm, the light of my life, and the heart of my soul.
chat: birds when little birds flock to my head, my spouse wonders if im this character called… snow white… *sigh* i am not sure as to who that is due to my upbringing as a military leader — i had no time for these trivial tales. but whenever they tell tales about this... gizney? no.. bizney? not quite right either.. ah yes, disney princess, the intent of me being dressed with robes of royalty are reflected in their eyes.
chat: mimi what was once a kitten, has now grown into a ferocious little lion. i remember when i first got her, [name] was all over the poor thing — smothering it with their love and words of praise — mimi didn’t complain though, she let herself get spoiled. and even up until now, she’s still that same, little spoiled lion she is.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ GEPARD
about [name] [name] is my significant other – how i was able to catch their eye? i don’t know. sometimes, i doubt my ability to love, especially with my role as the captain of the silvermane guards. but whenever those thoughts appear in my mind, [name] is there to quell my uneasy mind.
chat: family the way [name] treats lynx makes me feel… funny. i can’t really describe it but my heart beats whenever they entertain my little sister. oh, and don’t even get me started with how serval treats them. *sigh* what should i do to ease this beating heart of mine?
chat: de-stress ways on how to de-stress? well, after a long day i am usually greeted with the embrace of my beloved once i step into our abode… then after that i’m littered with- o-oh.. apologies. i was supposed to give advice. let’s start over again, shall we?
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ JIAOQIU
about [name] [name]? you want to now about them? well you see, as general feixiao’s doctor, it is important for me to have assistants whenever patients visit the clinic in a time when i am tending to duties involving her – this is where my dear [name] comes in. they’ve been with me from the start; us being classmates in the medicinal school we attended and all that. they’re easily one of the very dearest people in my life. most people only know them as my assistant due to their preference of upholding a “low-profile”; of course, i am very much alright with it. but when time comes and they’re ready to reveal our bond to the world, i’ll be the happiest man in the whole entire cosmos.
chat: sweets oh? you liked the sweets i gave you? well, you have my dear [name] to thank. they’re quite the connoisseur when it comes to making them. speaking of sweets, i forgot to mention we have a pastry shop in aurum alley. if you’re able to drop by, i’ll consider giving you a bundle of sweets, and probably other pastries, free of charge.
chat: coriander whatever you do, please do not hand me a bunch of coriander. i will absolutely lose my mind having to deal with a coriander-obsessed lover.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ARGENTI
about [name] my love for [name] transcends even the distant stars of the cosmos. my heart, my soul, and my own being belong to them.
chat: roses roses are my beloved’s favourite flowers, as they are mine. every morning, i wake from my peaceful slumber to see my dear tending to the beds of flowers with a gentle smile on their face that makes me fall in love all over again. *sigh* i miss them so much, trailblazer.. please bring me back to my ship. i would like to sink into my lover’s embrace at this moment.
chat: baking my beloved takes time to make my preference for thick baguettes each and every morning. while it warms me to receive such a valuable gift, i am not sure if i am deserving of their unconditional love for i am just a mere knight of beauty, idiotically searching for the goddess i’ve devoted myself to.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ MOZE
about [name] i am [name]’s lover. i am bound to them by fate and affection which is why you shouldn’t come close to them — unless you’d like to request an audience with the weapon in my hand.
chat: shadow [name] gets frightened whenever i appear randomly — jiaoqiu tells me it’s a normal reaction as he too, gets startled whenever i show my face to him. although.. im not quite sure how my sudden appearance has them stunned...
chat: cleaning [name] and i share the same hobby of cleaning. whenever i am relieved of my duties assigned by the general, i watch them- no. they tell me of the rather… unconventional ways of cleaning our abode.
tagging: @ayrastv, @whatisnerotypical, @lia-loves
🐈⬛: thank you for reading! reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!
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#🐈⬛️.notepad#🌸.honkai star rail#honkai star rail#hsr#star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reaer#star rail x reader#dan heng#dan heng x reader#jiaoqiu#jiaoqiu x reader#gepard#gepard landau#gepard x reader#jing yuan#jing yuan x reader#moze#hsr moze#moze x reader#hsr moze x reader#argenti#argenti x reader#aventurine#aventurine x reader#luocha#luocha x reader
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𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑦.
PAIRING: josh washington x actress!reader WARNINGS: no use of y/n GENRE: angst / fluff SONG INSPIRATION: i love you, im sorry by gracie abrams WORD COUNT: 9.7k REQUESTED: yes NOTE: does this make up for me being gone?
navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist
you had been waiting anxiously for a callback for the big film you’d auditioned for.
it was the kind of audition you left feeling half giddy, half sick to your stomach, replaying every line in your head like you were your own worst critic. was it good enough? did they notice the slight crack in your voice during the emotional scene? and why did you nervously laugh when they said, “thank you for coming in”?
every message and call since had you hurtling towards your phone. it was becoming a bit ridiculous, really. the first couple of days, it was exciting. you’d get a text notification and scramble to check it, only to be greeted by spam.
you’d sigh, deleting it quickly, before going back to refreshing your email.
this was a recurring thing, it was starting to piss you off.
the moment your phone buzzed, you almost tripped over your own feet to grab it. but there it was: the dreaded unknown number you’d seen three times today. you stared at the screen, feeling your heart deflate. “i don’t want to renew my car’s extended warranty!” you groaned into your pillow.
by day four, you were convinced your phone was mocking you. it sat there, silent, while you tried to distract yourself with literally anything. you started scrolling through social media, but every post was about someone else’s big break, and you found yourself glaring at your screen.
“oh, of course, you booked a role,” you muttered, jealously eyeing a friend’s celebratory post about a commercial gig. “good for you, toothpaste ad girl.”
you even tried taking a walk, thinking the universe might be kinder if you weren’t obsessing over it. the park definitely slowed your mind as you watched the ducks, glancing over to the family happily laughing about anything and everything.
it’s crazy the difference in your lives, but even though you didn’t know them, you wished for them to keep their happiness even with how you were feeling right now.
by the end of the week, you were practically glued to your phone, sitting at the edge of your couch. you’d made yourself a cup of tea to calm your nerves, but it had gone cold hours ago, untouched.
and then it happened.
your phone lit up, and this time, it wasn’t your mom or a scam call or a text about household essentials. it was your manager’s number flashing on the screen. you grabbed the phone, nearly dropping it in your haste.
“hello?!” you answered, a little too loudly. you winced, immediately trying to play it cool. “oh, i mean, hey! what’s up?”
there was a pause on the other end, the kind that had you holding your breath. then your manager’s voice crackled through, sounding oddly chipper.
“guess who just booked the role?”
you let out a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a squeak. “are you serious?! i got it?!”
“you got it!” your manager confirmed, laughing. “they loved your audition. said you brought a lot of… unique energy to the role.”
you frowned for a split second. unique energy? what did that even mean? but you didn’t have time to dwell on it because the excitement bubbling up inside you was too overwhelming. you started pacing back and forth, bouncing on the balls of your feet.
“oh my god, oh my god!” you shouted, completely losing any semblance of chill. “this is huge! this is– wait, you’re not messing with me, right? because if this is a prank, i swear i will–”
“relax,” your manager interrupted, sounding amused. “i promise, it’s the real deal. bob washington’s production company called me directly. they want you on set next week.”
“bob washington?” you echoed, your eyes widening. “like… the bob washington? he’s producing it?”
your heart was thudding harshly in your chest. you nearly dropped the phone, switching it to your other hand as you ran a nervous hand through your hair. bob washington. legendary producer, hollywood royalty, and a man known for creating some of the most iconic films of the last decade.
“yup,” your manager confirmed, clearly revelling in your reaction. “they’re calling it his biggest project in years. high budget, a-list cast, the works. they wanted someone fresh and dynamic for your role, and, well... you knocked it out of the park.”
“oh my god,” you breathed out, sinking onto your couch. your legs felt like jelly, and you were pretty sure your pulse was now audible. “i can’t believe this is happening. i can’t– this is insane!”
“i know, right?” your manager agreed, sounding almost as excited as you. “this is the kind of project that could change everything for you. it’s going to be intense, but it’s exactly the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.”
you could hardly sit still, feeling like you might burst out of your skin from the rush of adrenaline. “okay, so… what happens next? do i need to do anything? when do i start?”
“calm down,” your manager laughed. “i’ll send over all the paperwork today, and you’ll need to sign off on it. but you’re officially set to start next week. first day is monday. they want you on set early for wardrobe and a quick read through.”
“monday?” you echoed, eyes widening. “that’s in, like, three days!”
“yup,” they replied casually. “showbiz waits for no one, especially when bob washington is at the helm. so take the weekend to get your head straight and be ready. oh, and maybe do some research on the other cast members. you’re going to be working with some big names.”
you nodded, even though they couldn’t see you, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “okay. okay, i can do this.”
“that’s the spirit,” your manager said, their tone turning a bit softer. “this is your big break. you’ve earned it. go get ready to blow everyone away.”
“thank you,” you managed to say, voice thick with emotion. “seriously. for everything.”
“don’t thank me yet,” your manager teased. “save it for after you’ve made it through the first week without fainting.”
you hung up, staring at your phone in disbelief. for a moment, you just sat there, letting the reality of it all sink in. you’d gotten the call. the role you’d dreamed of was yours and in a few short days, you’d be stepping onto a set unlike any you’d been on before.
your first day on set was a whirlwind, and calling it crazy would be a massive understatement.
you were beyond nervous, practically buzzing with a mix of excitement and fear. you’d changed your outfit at least five times that morning, scrutinising every detail as if your career depended on whether your shirt said “professional” or “i have no idea what i’m doing.” by the time you arrived, you were convinced they could see the nerves shaking through you.
but all your worries melted away the moment you stepped onto the lot. instead of the cold, judgmental stares you’d been bracing for, you were met with warm smiles and friendly greetings. the crew bustled around you, nodding and waving, making you feel like you were already part of the family. it was as if everyone had collectively decided that you belonged here, no questions asked.
“hey, you must be the new star!” a woman in a headset called out, grinning as she approached. “i’m sara, assistant director. welcome to the madness!”
you laughed, the tension easing just a bit. “that obvious, huh?”
“well, we did hear about you,” she replied with a wink. “bob’s been talking you up since the casting decision. he’s really excited about you joining the team.”
your stomach fluttered at the mention of bob washington. it felt surreal, knowing that a man of his status had taken notice of you. “i’m just hoping i don’t mess it up,” you admitted, trying to keep your smile steady.
“you won’t,” she said simply, squeezing your shoulder. “c’mon, let’s get you over to wardrobe. they want to do a final fitting before we start blocking your first scene.”
you nodded, following her through the maze of trailers and equipment. as you walked, you couldn’t help but take it all in. the towering sets, the clamour of voices, the scent of fresh coffee and sawdust hanging in the air. it felt like stepping into another world, one you’d only ever dreamed of being part of.
wardrobe was a flurry of fabric and pins, the team immediately setting upon you with expert hands, adjusting and perfecting your look. they chatted as they worked, making you laugh with their behind the scenes stories and gossip about past productions.
it was impossible not to feel at ease around them, and by the time they were done, you felt like you’d already made a few new friends.
stepping out of the trailer in your costume with a newfound confidence. taking a breath before meeting up with sara.
“looking good,” sara called over, giving you a thumbs-up. “ready for your first scene?”
you took a deep breath, the nerves settling into something steadier, like anticipation. “ready as i’ll ever be.”
“great! we’ll do a quick run through on set, and then we’ll start filming.”
you followed her to the soundstage, where the set was already in full swing. cameras were being adjusted, lights were positioned just so, and the director was deep in conversation with the cinematographer. the air buzzed with energy, and for a moment, you felt like a small cog in a very big machine.
but then bob washington himself appeared, striding across the set with purpose. he looked exactly as you’d imagined. a tall, silver-haired man with an aura of calm confidence, like he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it.
he spotted you instantly, breaking into a broad smile as he approached. “there she is!” he said warmly, extending a hand. “our newest star. i’m so glad you could join us.”
you shook his hand, hoping he couldn’t feel the slight tremble in your fingers. “thank you, mr. washington. this is… incredible. i’m really honoured to be here.”
“please, call me bob,” he insisted, waving away the formality. “and the honour is ours. i’ve got a good feeling about you, you’re exactly what this film needs.”
the praise made your cheeks heat up, and you couldn’t help but smile back. “i’ll do my best to live up to it.”
“i know you will,” he said confidently. “now, let’s get you into position. i want you to feel comfortable, so if you need anything, just let us know..”
as bob walked away to speak with the director, you took your place in front of the camera for the first time. the lights were hot, the crew was watching, and the nerves threatened to bubble up again. but then you remembered the way everyone had welcomed you, the genuine smiles, and bob’s encouraging words. you took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders back, settling into the moment.
“all right, everyone, quiet on set!” the director called out. “we’re ready for the first take.”
the set fell silent, and you felt the weight of it, the anticipation hanging in the air. you were about to speak your first line, to step into this role that you’d fought so hard for.
and for the first time all day, you didn’t feel nervous. you felt ready.
“action!” the director shouted.
it was the second week of filming when you first met josh. he strolled onto set with his dad, cutting through the chaos of cameras and crew with an easy confidence, like he’d done this a million times before. you hadn’t known what to expect, you’d heard people whisper. the washington name came with a lot of preconceived notions, but when he flashed that wide, boyish grin at you, all your assumptions melted away.
josh was nothing but lovely from the start. he introduced himself with a playful smirk and a handshake that lingered just a moment longer than necessary. “and you are?” he asked, his eyes bright with curiosity, like he already knew your name but wanted to hear you say it.
you gave it, trying to keep your own smile polite and professional, but it was hard not to be charmed by the way he looked at you. “nice to meet you, josh.”
“trust me,” he replied, leaning in slightly, voice dropping to a low whisper, “the pleasure’s all mine.”
from that moment on, josh was a regular presence on set, always finding his way over to where you were between takes. he’d crack jokes, compliment your performance, and offer you his hoodie whenever the chilly air left you shivering.
it wasn’t exactly a secret that he liked you. it was there in the way he lit up when you entered a room, the way he leaned closer when he talked to you. he was flirty, sure, but never in a sleazy way. it was sweet, almost shy at times, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck that you just might be interested in him too.
one afternoon, you found yourself sitting together at the edge of the set, the sun dipping low behind the trees. most of the crew had wrapped for the day, the noise dying down to a soft murmur as everyone packed up. josh sat close enough that your knees were almost touching, a faint smirk on his lips as he handed you a coffee he’d picked up from the food truck.
“figured you might need a pick me up,” he said, eyes glinting with amusement. “you looked like you were about to fall asleep standing up during that last scene.”
you laughed, taking the cup from him gratefully. “wow, so i’m that obvious, huh?”
“only to someone who’s paying attention,” he teased, nudging your shoulder with his. he took a sip of his own drink, then glanced sideways at you, his expression softening. “you’ve been killing it, by the way. i know everyones been super impressed.”
you felt a blush rise to your cheeks, caught off guard by the compliment. “thanks, josh. that means a lot.”
he was quiet for a moment, watching you with a soft look in eyes. “you know,” he said slowly, like he was testing the waters, “i’ve never really seen someone fit in so quickly. it’s like you’ve been a part of this cast forever.”
“i could say the same about you,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “you’ve practically become one of us, and you’re not even in the movie.”
he chuckled, the sound low and warm. “yeah, well, maybe i just like hanging around you.”
there it was. that flirty charm that made your pulse quicken every time. you tried to play it cool, leaning back and giving him a teasing smile. “is that so?”
josh’s grin widened, but then he looked down, almost sheepish. “yeah,” he admitted softly, and for once, he didn’t sound like he was trying to impress you. it was just honest. “you’re different, you know? in a good way.”
you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, a loud voice called out from across the set. “josh! we need you over here for a second!”
he sighed, rolling his eyes but standing up anyway. “duty calls,” he said, but before he walked away, he turned back to you, taking a small step closer. “let’s hang out after this. just us,” he suggested, his tone hopeful.
you couldn’t help but smile. “yeah,” you agreed, feeling a jolt of excitement you hadn’t felt in a long time. “i’d like that.”
josh’s smile was all teeth as he jogged off, giving you a quick wave before disappearing into the crowd. you watched him go. it was impossible not to feel something for him, the way he made you feel seen, special. you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too, or if it was just his natural charm.
by the time shooting was nearing its end, you’d formed the softest spot for josh. it wasn’t just the way he made you laugh or how he seemed to know exactly what to say to put you at ease.
it was the little routines you’d fallen into together, the kind that made it hard to imagine your days without him.
every morning, without fail, josh would show up at your trailer with your favourite drink in hand. he’d knock once and then let himself in with a bright, teasing grin. “good morning, beautiful,”
it didn’t matter how tired you were or how early the call time was. he'd always bring a bit of sunshine with him, and you’d find yourself smiling back even on your worst days.
it started with his playful affection. at first, his hands would land on your shoulders as a joke, squeezing them dramatically like he was an over the top masseuse. “rough night?” he’d ask with a wink, his fingers digging into the knots from the long hours on set.
but as the weeks went by, those joking massages turned into something more real. he’d work out the tension in your neck and back while the makeup artists did their work, his touch firm but gentle, the kind of attention that made you melt.
“careful, you’re going to put me out of a job,” one of the makeup artists would joke, glancing between the two of you with a knowing smile.
josh would just chuckle, his hands lingering a bit longer than necessary before he’d sigh dramatically when it was time for them to move on to your hair. “fine, fine,” he’d say, stepping back like he was truly reluctant to let you go. but then he’d slide into the chair beside you, threading his fingers through yours without a second thought, as if holding your hand was the most natural thing in the world.
he’d sit there contentedly, scrolling through his phone with his free hand, occasionally showing you a funny meme or a video he thought you’d like. he always had that wide smile on his lips, the kind that made it clear just how happy he was to be there with you. it was a kind of peace, a quiet connection that neither of you had to put into words.
you knew people noticed, and you didn’t mind. it was hard not to smile at the way he looked at you. the playful flirting had given way to something tender, something that felt a lot like the start of a relationship neither of you had fully acknowledged yet.
as your makeup artist stepped back and declared you camera ready, josh gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “you look amazing,” he said quietly, his voice low and sincere, all the teasing gone from his tone.
you turned to him, meeting his eyes. “thanks, josh,”
“i couldn’t have done it without my personal masseuse.”
he laughed, leaning closer so no one else could hear. “anytime,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “but, you know, you don’t have to wait until we’re on set for this kind of attention. we could... make it a regular thing.”
your eyes flicked up to meet his, and you saw it there. the unspoken question, the hope he was trying to play off as casual. you bit your lip to hide your smile, giving his hand one last squeeze before letting go.
“yeah,” you said softly, feeling the warmth bloom in your chest. “i’d like that.”
the last weeks of filming flew by in a blur, each day bleeding into the next. if you weren’t on set, you were out grabbing late night drinks and dinners with the cast or rehearsing lines together. it felt like you were constantly moving, your days filled with laughter. just pure fun with all your new friends..
well, most of them, anyway.
then there was olivia.
no matter how friendly you tried to be, it was like talking to a mirror. everything bounced back at you with a reflection of fake smiles and hollow laughter. she was sweet and bubbly when others were around, playing the role of best friend like it was written into her script. but the second you were alone, her expression would shift. like she couldn’t drop the mask fast enough.
you were in the middle of reapplying your lip gloss in the bathroom when the door swung open with a bang. olivia stormed in, her heels clicking sharply against the tile. she came to a stop beside you at the sink, her gaze briefly meeting yours in the mirror before she looked away, pulling out her compact and patted at her makeup.
for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of her rummaging through her purse and the muted thump of music coming from outside. you kept your focus on your own reflection, but you could feel her presence next to you, heavy and expectant, like she was waiting for something.
finally, jessica let out a huff, a tight, forced laugh that seemed to come out of nowhere. “you know,” she said, her tone as sugary as ever but dripping with something darker, “it’s funny.”
“what is?” you asked, capping your lip gloss and glancing over at her.
she leaned in closer, the smile on her lips so thin it looked painful. “how everyone is obsessed with you.” her voice was sharp, each word pointed like the edge of a knife. “it’s almost impressive, the way you’ve got them all wrapped around your finger. i mean, what’s your secret?”
you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in her tone. “olivia, i’m not–”
“oh, spare me,” she snapped, dropping the sweet act entirely. her eyes narrowed, the fake friendliness dissolving. “don’t play innocent. you know exactly what you’re doing.”
a frown tugged at your lips, confusion mixing with a flicker of irritation. “i’m just here to do my job,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “if i’ve upset you somehow–”
“upset me?” jessica cut you off with a dry laugh, tilting her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “god, you really think you’re above it all, don’t you? just because everyone likes you right now doesn’t mean they always will.”
you took a step back, feeling the heat of her words. there it was. the real olivia, finally showing through the cracks of her perfect persona. “i’m not trying to compete with you, liv,” you said quietly. “we’re supposed to be a team.”
she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “oh, please. we both know this industry isn’t about teams. it’s about who shines the brightest. and right now, that’s you.” she snapped her compact shut and shoved it back into her bag with a sharp motion. “but don’t get too comfortable. you’re just the flavour of the month.”
you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. it would’ve been easy to snap back, to throw her own words in her face, but you knew that was exactly what she wanted. instead, you offered her a small, tight smile. “if that’s how you feel, then i’m sorry.”
her eyes flicked up to yours, a flicker of surprise flashing across her face before she quickly masked it. it was almost like she hadn’t expected you to be so calm, like she’d been gearing up for a fight you weren’t going to give her.
“whatever,” she muttered, but her voice was sharper now, laced with something bitter. she turned on her heel, strutting towards the door with a slow, almost mocking glance back over her shoulder. “enjoy this little fling with josh while you can,” she added, her tone practically dripping with disdain.
her smirk widening as she continued, voice dripping with bitterness. “he’s just being nice to you. it’s what he does– flirts a little, makes you feel good about yourself. you’re not the first girl to fall for it, and you definitely won’t be the last.”
you swallowed hard, but the sting was already spreading through your chest. it felt like she’d reached right in and found the one spot where you weren’t sure of yourself, digging her nails in just to see how much it would hurt.
“i give it a few weeks before he moves on to someone else,” jessica added, her tone almost singing now, like she was savouring the taste of the words. “i’m sure he’ll find another little pet project soon enough.”
she turned and strutted out, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving you standing there in the echoing silence. you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your hands gripping the edge of the sink so tightly your knuckles turned white. you tried to shake it off, to tell yourself that she was just being petty, but her words had landed right where they were meant to.
you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. maybe you weren’t special. maybe you were just another girl caught up in josh’s charm, another temporary distraction for him to play with before he got bored.
as you walked back out to rejoin the others, you felt the sliver of doubt she’d planted start to grow, worming its way deeper into your mind. you couldn’t shake it, her words playing on a loop, biting and bitter.
you’re not the first girl to fall for it, and you definitely won’t be the last.
you stepped onto set and josh looked up immediately, his grin spreading across his face as soon as he caught your eye. it was like the whole room disappeared for him, like you were the only person he wanted to see. for a split second, you felt the warmth of it wash over you, the easy comfort you’d come to crave.
and then that sliver of doubt dug deeper, twisting painfully. you frowned, forcing yourself to look away as you made your way to where you were supposed to be, brushing him off without a word. you could feel his gaze follow you, his smile faltering, slipping away like he couldn’t quite understand what had changed.
i give it a few weeks before he moves on to someone else.
olivia’s voice echoed in your mind, harsher now, louder. you clenched your jaw, eyes fixed on the ground as you took your mark. you didn’t dare look back at him, even as the silence stretched on and you knew he was still watching, trying to catch your eye.
you distanced yourself from him for the last few days of filming. it wasn’t something you planned, but every time you saw him, olivia’s words clawed their way back to the surface, sharp and jagged, cutting into whatever fragile hope you had left.
you started to lock your trailer door in the mornings, sitting in the too quiet space with your heart pounding in your chest. your stylist team exchanged concerned looks behind your back, their hands moving a little more gently through your hair, as if they could sense the storm you were holding in.
the pain gnawed at you, raw and relentless. how could you be so stupid? you thought. of course this was how it would end. he was josh washington, the son of a hollywood icon, used to getting whatever he wanted. he could have anyone, and you’d been foolish enough to think you were different. that you were something more than a temporary distraction.
you were angry, but mostly at yourself. angry for letting your guard down, for believing that the way he treated you meant something real. it hurt in a way you hadn’t expected, a dull ache that pulsed through your chest every time you saw him across the room.
and when you did see him, he looked just as lost. his usual bright smile had dimmed, replaced with a soft, uncertain look that he reserved only for you, like he didn’t quite know what he’d done wrong but was desperate to fix it. you tried to avoid his eyes, but it was impossible. they always found you, pleading silently for you to come back, to talk to him, to let him in.
but you couldn’t. not now. not when you were convinced it had all been a lie.
on the final day of shooting, you pulled away from your friends as they gathered for one last photo, your throat tight with the effort of holding back tears. you forced yourself to look up, and there he was, standing across the room, watching you. the look on his face broke you a little more. a mixture of confusion, sadness, and something you couldn’t quite place, something that made you want to run to him and pull him close, even now.
he tried to give you a small, sad smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. it was like he was holding out an olive branch, unsure if you’d take it. your heart twisted painfully, the urge to just say screw it almost overwhelming.
you debated for a second, the weight of it all crashing down on you. then, you managed the briefest of smiles, a tiny, strained thing that faded almost as soon as it appeared. it was all you could give him. and when you turned to leave, there was a tug, a pull from you to him.
the door closed behind you, and you didn’t look back.
a year passed, and life moved on. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. you stayed in touch with the friends you’d made on set, the group chat still active. but it wasn’t the same, not without him.
you’d started to make a name for yourself in the industry, your social media blowing up when the announcement came that you’d be starring in a new film. the feedback was overwhelmingly positive, fans excited to see you. it should’ve felt like a triumph, something to celebrate, but every time you saw the comments or got a congratulatory message, there was a hollow ache you couldn’t shake.
you tried to fill the void with dates. new people, new places. but none of them went past the first dinner or drinks. you laughed and made small talk, but it always felt forced, like you were going through the motions. you kept telling yourself it was because you were busy, too focused on your career to make time for anything serious.
but that wasn’t the truth, and you knew it. you missed him. you missed josh. the way he’d made you feel, the way you clicked from the very first moment. it was something you’d never had before and hadn’t found since, and it haunted you more than you wanted to admit. you hated how you left things, but the thought of facing him, of looking him in the eyes and seeing what hurt you caused. it terrified you.
you sighed, leaning back in the vanity chair as your makeup artist lined your lips with whatever product she was using. it felt good to be back in the routine of it all. you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the comfortable rhythm of the brushes, the gentle hum of conversation around you.
your playlist played quietly in the background, filling the silence with a mix of your favourite songs. and then, it shifted to something different, a song that made your chest tighten painfully.
the one that used to play in his car, the one he’d sing along to, off-key and grinning as he’d turn up the volume just to make you laugh. you opened your eyes, staring at your reflection in the mirror.
the smile you’d been wearing slipped away, replaced by something softer, sadder. the makeup artist paused, noticing the change in your expression.
“you okay?” she asked gently, her hand hovering near your shoulder.
you forced a small, tight smile. “yeah,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m fine.”
but as the song played on, you realised just how untrue that was. you weren’t fine, and you hadn’t been since the moment you walked away from him.
there wasn’t time to dwell on it, not when the makeup artist was stepping back to admire her work, giving you a final nod of approval before you were whisked away to get dressed. you were guided behind a privacy screen where a small army of stylists and assistants waited with your gown.
it was a process, the kind that required several hands, gentle tugs and tucks, and lots of patience. you held your arms up as they shimmied the dress up your body, the fabric whispering against your skin as it slid into place. it was stunning. a custom made one, of course.
the bodice was sleek, hugging your curves in deep, midnight blue satin that seemed to shimmer under the light. it had a delicate sweetheart neckline, showing just the right amount of collarbone, and thin, elegant straps that wrapped around your shoulders.
as they adjusted the fit, you glanced down at the intricate beadwork that trailed from your waist, cascading into the full skirt like a waterfall of tiny, sparkling stars. the gown flowed out into a subtle train behind you, the kind that made you feel like you were gliding when you walked. it was a dress designed to make a statement, to turn heads and capture attention the second you stepped into the room.
but as they fluffed the layers and pinned a few final details, your mind drifted back to him. would he be there tonight? you hadn’t asked, too afraid of the answer. if he was there, would he even look at you? did he hate you now for leaving the way you did? and did you even want to see him, knowing it would bring back everything you’d tried so hard to bury?
the stylists stepped back, murmuring their approval, and you turned to face the mirror. for a moment, you barely recognized yourself. you looked beautiful, powerful even, like you belonged in the spotlight that was awaiting you.
you smoothed your hands over the satin fabric, taking a steadying breath. it was showtime. whatever happened tonight, whoever you might see, you needed to keep your head high.
“ready?” one of the assistants asked, offering you a bright smile as they held the door open.
you nodded, forcing a confident smile as you stepped out into the hall. “ready as i’ll ever be.”
but as you made your way to the venue, the sound of your own heartbeat seemed to drown out everything else, a constant, pounding reminder that no matter how you looked on the outside, you were far from ready.
the second your heels touched the pavement, you were met with an explosion of blinding lights. flashes erupted from every angle, the paparazzi swarming you, desperate for the next big story. voices overlapped in a chaotic frenzy:
“look here! over your shoulder! who are you wearing tonight?”
you forced a smile, dazzling but rehearsed, turning slightly to give them a better angle as you adjusted the skirt of your gown. the cameras loved it, loved you. you could almost hear the clicks getting faster, the flashes coming quicker, and you knew by the looks on their faces that the photos would be everywhere tomorrow.
but your eyes weren’t on them; they were searching the crowd, scanning the sea of faces. you caught sight of your castmates just inside the venue, a familiar group gathered together in the warm light, posing for photos of their own. you watched as they laughed, their smiles wide and genuine. for a moment, you felt a pang of longing, you missed them, missed the easy camaraderie you’d once had.
you took a deep breath, lifting your chin a little higher as you made your way towards the entrance. the red carpet felt like it stretched on forever, every step heavy with the weight of anticipation. you could feel the eyes on you, not just from the photographers but from the crowd gathered behind the barriers. fans calling your name, reaching out with pens and posters. you waved, gave them that same bright smile, even as your stomach twisted into a knot.
you made your way over to the fans lined up along the barricade, the shouts of your name cutting through the noise. you couldn’t help but smile as you leaned in, reaching for the first outstretched poster.
“can you sign this?” a girl asked breathlessly, her eyes wide with excitement.
“of course,” you said warmly, scribbling your signature across the glossy paper before handing it back. you moved down the line, taking your time with each person, pausing to hold their hands and answer their rapid fire questions as best you could.
“what’s your favourite scene in the new movie?” someone yelled.
“can’t spoil it for you!” you teased, giving them a playful wink. “but you’ll love it, i promise.”
you paused when you saw a young teen, her cheeks wet with tears, clutching a phone case with your face on it. you knelt down a little, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with a gentle thumb.
“hey, you alright?” you asked softly, giving her a reassuring smile.
she nodded quickly, wiping her face with her sleeve. “i just… i can’t believe i’m meeting you.”
your heart melted a little at that. “well, i’m so glad you’re here,” you said sincerely. “you’re amazing. don’t forget that, okay?”
you hugged her quickly, the crowd erupting in cheers around you. when you pulled back, she was beaming, and it made the exhaustion you’d felt all day fade away. you moved on, taking selfies with everyone who asked, laughing and chatting. it was honestly one of the best parts of your night.
you took a deep breath, flashing one last smile at the crowd before stepping back. the fans waved and shouted their goodbyes, their faces lit up with joy, and you couldn’t help but feel the same joy in your own chest.
the red carpet felt endless beneath your feet, stretching out in front of you like a vivid trail leading you toward a thousand cameras, all flashing at once. it was chaos, but the good kind. the kind where you could almost feel the excitement buzzing in the air, like a collective anticipation.
the energy of the crowd was contagious, and you couldn’t help but smile, soaking in the moment as you made your way down the carpet, exchanging waves and greetings with familiar faces. it was all about the premiere, of course, but for you, it felt more like a reunion of sorts. a chance to reconnect with old friends and colleagues you hadn’t seen in a while.
you hadn’t gone more than a few steps when a voice broke through the noise.
“look at you! killing it out here!”
before you even had time to react, a warm hug pulled you in. ryan. a guy you’d worked with on a previous project, was grinning at you with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. he stepped back to give you a once over, then mock pouted.
“you’re out here making me look like an amateur. you should’ve warned me.”
you chuckled, adjusting the hem of your dress as if it were the most dramatic thing in the world. “not true. you’re just not bringing enough sparkle to the table,” you teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow.
he raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down. “i’m just trying to keep up. but i gotta say– mission accomplished. you’re stealing the spotlight tonight.”
the photographer’s call broke through the banter, and with a flash of the cameras, you both struck a pose. you leaned in slightly, offering your best smiles as the clicking of the cameras. you could hear the photographer giving a quiet “perfect!” before they moved on to catch the next moment.
you gave him a quick wave and moved on, weaving through the throng of excited actors and industry folk, all basking in the glamour of the night. there was something intoxicating about it – the shared joy, the excitement, the way everyone seemed to be feeding off each other’s energy.
a few steps down, you spotted someone you didn’t know well but had met at industry events before. a woman whose laugh was as big as her personality. she waved as she caught sight of you, and before you could even offer a word of greeting, you were pulled into a warm, tight hug.
“is this your first premiere?” she asked, her voice bright with curiosity.
you smiled, shrugging a little. “no, but i’m still kinda freaking out. there’s just something about the flashing lights that makes me feel a little claustrophobic,” you admitted with a laugh.
she grinned, understanding exactly what you meant. “it’s like being in a fishbowl for a night, right? everyone’s looking at you, but you’ve got to own it. let’s have some fun with it!”
the cameras around you both clicked as you posed together, flashes going off so quickly you could hardly keep up. there was no rush, no pressure. just laughter and the easy chemistry that made you feel at home in the chaos. after a few more shots, you thanked her and kept moving.
the next few minutes blurred together, more poses with more familiar faces. a guy you’d met once at a party last year, a rising star in a rom com who was just starting to get their break through, a selfie with someone who had appeared in an indie film you adored.
it felt like an effortless stream of interactions, as if you were just hanging out with friends instead of being on a giant event.
but then, you noticed something. as you made your way down the carpet, the crowd around you seemed to dissipate. you didn’t know if it was your own sense of space or just the natural ebb of the event, but suddenly you found yourself alone. there was no one nearby, no familiar faces laughing or posing for pictures. just the sharp clicking of cameras and the hum of voices from the crowd.
the realisation hit you like a wave, and with it came the creeping tide of anxiety. your heart began to beat a little faster, the flashing lights growing brighter, the eyes of the photographers turning into an overwhelming pressure. it wasn’t just the cameras. it was the sheer number of people, all of them looking at you, all of them waiting for something, expecting something.
you tried to steady your breath, forcing yourself to smile through the nervous tightness that was starting to crawl up your chest. but it wasn’t working. the world seemed to be closing in, the noise around you getting louder, more suffocating.
and just when you felt like you might lose it, a hand settled firmly on your waist. before you could process what was happening, you were gently spun into someone.
your hands landed against the solid expanse of their chest, you looked up, you met josh’s eyes, his face soft with concern, a quiet understanding in his gaze.
"hey,” he said, his voice low, cutting through the madness. “you okay?”
the world slowed. his presence was the grounding force you needed, the anchor that pulled you back from the edge of panic. you inhaled deeply, feeling your heart rate slowly return to normal, the suffocating weight of the moment lifting.
“yeah...” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “i think i am now.”
you both turned back to the cameras, the bright flashes momentarily blinding you, but josh’s presence beside you grounded you. his hand, warm and firm around yours, tugged you gently, guiding you into a slow spin. the world around you seemed to slow as you turned, the cacophony of the red carpet fading into the background.
“isn’t she so beautiful, ladies and gents?” josh’s voice rang out, effortlessly confident, the words slipping out like a natural compliment, as though it was the simplest truth in the world.
all that was heard were cheers and whistles surrounding you.
you couldn’t help but laugh. a genuine, startled laugh, the kind that bubbled up from deep inside you. the sound echoed around you, and it felt like the air cleared for just a moment, like the weight of the night lifted. you stumbled slightly, your feet shifting against the plush carpet, and found yourself falling back against him.
his arms caught you instinctively, pulling you close. the warmth of his chest against your back, the steady pressure of his hand on your waist. you glanced up, meeting his gaze, and suddenly the world didn’t seem so big, it didn't feel so overwhelming.
but josh’s eyes, dark and intent, told you everything without a single word. there was something there. something unspoken, a silent intensity that left you breathless. it was in the way he looked at you, the way his lips quirked into a small, almost shy smile, and the way his thumb traced slow circles on your skin. his hand never left you, his touch steady, grounding you in the middle of the chaos.
you could feel the pull between you, magnetic, undeniable. the longing was palpable, the unspoken words that hovered between you both. it wasn’t just the physical closeness, the way your bodies fit together so naturally, or the way his hands held you with such ease. it was the way his eyes never strayed from yours, like he was trying to convey everything that words couldn’t.
in that moment, it was clear — everything you both needed was right here, in the quiet tension between a glance and a breath.
and for a fleeting second, you almost forgot about the cameras, the lights, the flashes. you almost forgot about everything and just stayed in that space, just the two of you, with the unsaid words hanging in the air.
it wasn’t long before you two made your way into the theater.
you followed josh inside. the world outside had momentarily faded away as the two of you found your seats, the lights dimming around you. the film was about to start, but there was no denying the tension between you.
as the opening credits rolled, you tried to focus on the screen, your own face staring back at you larger than life. it was surreal, seeing yourself up there, but despite the excitement, there was something else that kept drawing your attention away. josh.
you could feel his presence beside you, warm and steady. his leg brushed against yours, sending a small jolt through you. the whole theater could’ve been empty, and you still would’ve been hyper aware of him.
the movie played on, but you couldn't quite get lost in it. your heart raced, every subtle movement from josh had you second guessing your focus. his hand was now dangerously close to yours, just a few inches away. with every frame, your breath caught a little more, the anticipation mounting.
ever so slowly, josh’s fingers inched toward yours. you held your breath, hoping it wouldn’t be too obvious. but as he grazed the back of your hand, a little shiver ran through you. you turned your palm up ever so slightly, just enough for him to get the hint.
his fingers brushed against yours again, this time lingering for just a moment. your heart hammered in your chest, and you couldn't help the sly grin that tugged at the corner of your mouth. his eyes flicked over to you, a mischievous glint in them, before his hand fully settled in yours, fingers intertwining.
you both glanced at each other, and for a moment, the world outside of that theater vanished. the film could have been playing a thousand scenes, and neither of you would have noticed. the only thing that mattered was the warmth of josh’s hand in yours, the way he squeezed it gently.
by the time the credits rolled and the lights came up, you both were still sitting close, your hands now very obviously intertwined. there was a satisfied, playful grin on both your faces, a mutual understanding of what had just happened between you, and neither of you could stop the little spark of joy that flickered in your chest.
the crowd outside the theater had thinned, and there were only a few straggling onlookers left. the lack of paparazzi made the air feel lighter, more intimate. the flashing cameras, the constant eyes on you, had disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived, leaving only the steady presence of josh by your side. his hand was still firmly wrapped around yours, and though the world seemed to fall away, you couldn't help but feel the weight of all the whispered glances from the few people still lingering around.
you snuck a glance at him, and he caught it, his eyes meeting yours with a playful smile. you both walked in silence toward the exit, but the tension between you was thick. it wasn’t just the excitement from the night, or the high of seeing yourself on the big screen, it was something else. something you couldn’t quite name yet, but you felt it every time his fingers brushed against yours.
once you reached the parking lot, you turned to him. "do you want to come back to my place?" the words felt sudden, but they were honest. he raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips, but he didn’t hesitate.
"yeah, i'd like that," he said softly, his hand tightening around yours as you made your way to his car.
the drive was quiet but not uncomfortable. the radio hummed quietly in the background, but it was his presence that consumed your attention. every so often, you'd catch his eyes glancing at you, his face softening with a tenderness that made you feel both a little breathless.
when you reached your apartment, he pulled up to the curb and parked, smoothly shifting into neutral. before you could reach for the door handle, he was already there, opening it for you. his fingers curled around the edge of the door. he offered you his hand, helping you out. it was such a casual thing, but it still managed to pull a smile out of you, the kind that you had to look away to hide.
he walked alongside you to your front door, his presence warm against the cool night air. he waited patiently, a step behind as you fished your keys from your bag. you could feel his eyes on you, attentive but soft, like he was memorising this small moment. the lock clicked, and you pushed the door open, stepping inside and feeling the rush of warmth against your skin.
he stepped inside, his focus shifting to the family photos on the walls as he moved with unhurried steps. the silence felt heavy now, filled only by the click of your heels across the floor as you set your handbag on the counter. you could hear the quiet scuff of his shoes as he followed, moving closer, the distance between you shrinking with every breath.
josh stood in front of you, his eyes softening as he took in the tension on your face. he could see it. the way your brows furrowed slightly, the way your lips were pressed together. the worry was evident, and it made him feel an unfamiliar ache in his chest.
"hey," he said, his voice low and gentle, "what’s going on? you’ve been quiet ever since we got here." he took a small step closer, his eyes never leaving yours as if he was waiting for you to say something, anything.
you opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat, trapped somewhere between confusion and guilt. what could you say? how could you explain the mess inside your head, the things that had been eating away at you for the past year?
you felt his presence growing stronger, like he was waiting for you to reach out, but you couldn’t. you didn’t know how to bridge the distance that had built up between you, even if it was only in your own heart.
“i– i don’t know how to say this.” your voice cracked slightly, betraying the emotions you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel until now.
josh tilted his head, concern deepening in his eyes. “you don’t have to explain anything if you’re not ready, but i'm here to listen if you are.”
his words, that small gesture of understanding, only made the pressure in your chest tighten. the last year had been filled with silence, each day spent wondering if you’d made the wrong choice. and now, standing before him, feeling the warmth of his presence, you were finally forced to confront the truth.
was it worth it to trust someone else's words over his?
“olivia said... she said some things about you. about us,” you began, your throat tight as you struggled to find the words. “i let her get into my head. and i chose to believe them. since i've seen past tabloids of you, and i just... i don’t know. it made me think maybe i was just another girl to you, josh. that i was nothing special.” the words were difficult to choke out, like each one took something from you.
you took a shaky breath, your voice thick with the emotion you’d been holding back for so long. “i know i should have talked to you, josh. i should’ve just asked you if it was true, if i was just another girl in a long line of flings. but i couldn’t bring myself to do it.” you looked down, your gaze fixed on the floor as you admitted the hardest part. “i was terrified. i was scared that if i asked, on the off chance that it was true, it would hurt even worse than believing the lie.”
josh’s expression shattered, he’d just realised how deep the wound went. he moved even closer, his hands sliding up to gently cradle your face, forcing you to look at him. “god, i hate that you felt that way,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “you should never have had to doubt us. i should’ve made sure you knew how much you meant to me. i’m so sorry.”
your chest tightened, a fresh wave of tears spilling over as you finally let yourself lean into his touch, the warmth of his palms grounding you in the moment. it was like he was trying to hold all the broken pieces of you together, the way his thumbs gently stroked your cheeks.
“i didn’t know,” you whispered, your voice raw. “i didn’t know if it was real, or if i was just something temporary for you.”
“it’s real,” josh said urgently, his forehead pressing against yours. “it’s always been real with you. and i should’ve done more to show you that. i’m here now, and i’m not letting go again.”
“i should’ve trusted you,” you whispered, the guilt bubbling to the surface. "but the way she said it, the way it all just seemed to line up... i thought maybe she was right. i thought maybe you were just... playing around." you swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “i didn’t know what to think anymore. and i pushed you away.”
josh’s hands slid to your shoulders, his grip gentle but firm. “i get why you felt that way, but i’m not like that. i never have been with you.” his voice dropped, becoming more vulnerable. “i’ve been falling for you this whole time. and i know i messed up.
i didn’t fight hard enough for us when i should’ve.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i should’ve told you how i felt. i shouldn’t have let you think i was anything like those guys. i’m not.”
you stood there, trying to process everything he was saying, the rawness in his words hitting you. the walls you had built around yourself started to crack, the defences you’d spent a year erecting finally starting to crumble in the face of his honesty.
“i don’t want to be just another fling, josh,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “i need to know i mean something to you.”
“you do,” he said, his voice almost pleading now. “you mean everything to me.” his hands slid down your arms, holding onto you with a desperate kind of tenderness. “i’ve been stupid, letting this distance grow between us. i never stopped caring about you. and i’m sorry for not saying it sooner. i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this way.”
the air between you was thick, almost stifling, as if every unsaid word hung there, waiting. your chest rose and fell, breaths coming a little faster than they should. he looked at you, searching your face like he was trying to find the right thing to say, but couldn’t.
for a second, you just stood there, both caught in that in between place, uncertain, but wanting more than you were willing to admit. you could see the way his gaze flickered, the way his hands hovered by his sides, like he was debating whether to reach for you.
you took the leap first, stepping into him and pressing your lips to his. the kiss was simple but real, like a question and an answer all at once. he exhaled against your mouth, almost a sigh of relief, and his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, like he’d been waiting for this as long as you had.
when you pulled back, the tension melted away, replaced by something softer, almost gentle. he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a quiet laugh, almost like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “i’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered.
you smiled, feeling the weight of everything you’d been carrying start to lift. “me too,” you admitted. “but no more excuses, okay?”
he nodded, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “no more excuses,” he promised.
and with that, you kissed him again, letting yourself fall into it.
trusting that this time, you’d both make it count.
comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
© ruewrote 2024.
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Moments of Reflection
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
A Family of Her Own Series
Masterlist | General Masterlist
w/c: 3.3k
Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.
This Chapter: R has a talk with Melina. Natasha has to leave again.
Folding clothes shouldn’t be this soothing. Sorting them into their tiny baskets takes time. You hadn’t realized how gender-assigned you’d made the clothes, but the pinks and blues for the kids stand in contrast, a soft reminder of how much life has changed. The brand-new washer and dryer Natasha sent months ago shouldn’t be this exciting, but here you are, finding comfort in the hum of the machine and the rhythmic folding of small socks and onesies.
The warmth of the laundry room, with its clean scent of detergent, is a small escape—a moment of calm in the chaos. You lose yourself in the motion, piece by piece, letting the repetition lull your thoughts away from the noise of the house. For just a little while, it’s quiet. No responsibilities beyond sorting clothes and making neat piles.
The door creaks open, and you glance up, half-expecting Natasha or even Stella. But it’s Melina, Natasha’s mother, lingering in the doorway. Her presence is quiet, but it’s still a disruption to the small space you’ve carved out for yourself. You force a smile, hoping she doesn’t stay long. You just need a little more time alone.
“I hope I’m not interrupting." Melina says with a tentative smile.
You shake your head, your hands still moving automatically as you fold a tiny pair of pants. “No, it’s fine." It would be rude to dismiss the first guests you’ve had in months.
She steps inside, her eyes sweeping over the laundry, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"I wanted to thank you.”
You pause, mid-fold, blinking at her in surprise. “For what?"
Melina watches you for a moment, then glances at the clothes in your hands—the tiny, everyday items that somehow make up the world you’ve built here with Natasha.
"For loving my daughter."
The words hit you harder than you expect. You set the pants down, focusing on the soft fabric beneath your fingers to steady yourself. It’s rare that anyone acknowledges the quiet work you put in to hold everything together—the small sacrifices, the late nights, the constant worry.
You look up at her, searching her face for more, unsure what to say. Melina steps forward, folding her arms, her voice soft but steady.
“I know Natasha doesn’t talk about these things, but I see it. I see what you’ve done for her, for your family.“
Your throat tightens at her words. You try to keep your emotions in check, but it’s hard, especially after the weeks you’ve had.
You manage a small smile, though your voice is quieter than you intend. “I love her. I always will."
Melina nods, her eyes soft with understanding. There’s a pause, thick with unspoken things, before she speaks again.
“What is your secret?” Melina begins and your head snaps up. “To getting her to love you.”
You let out a breathless laugh, glancing at the pile of unfolded clothes, unsure how to respond. Melina waits, watching you carefully.
Your thoughts turn back to the years you spent trying to reach Natasha, to get her to let you in. Not that you were any easier to deal with. Being SHIELD used to mean something. It took a lot to prove yourself to those around you. It took a lot to let someone in.
Melina steps closer, tilting her head. "She would never admit it, but Natasha is different. She has always been different."
"That's what made her such a good spy." You muse. “There’s no secret.”
She hums, thoughtful."I know it will take time for her to forgive me,” Melina says.
“You’re here, right,” You interrupt and Melina tilts her head. There’s a question at the tip of her tongue. “There are only four, maybe five, people that know about this place. That know about us. Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton and Laura Barton. Five if you include Nick Fury who knows everything. Now you and your family.”
Her lips twitch and she nods.
"She loves you."
Melina's expression softens, and she reaches out to feel the fabric of Nick’s onesie. "I wish things could be different,” She seems lost in a memory.
You watch her. Your chest feels heavy. There are so many things that you could have done differently, too.
"We can't change the past. Only learn from it."
Melina sighs, looking at the piles of baby clothes.
“She’s a good mother,” You say. “A great one. When life allows her to be one.”
Melina smiles at you, and you realize how much older she is, the lines around her eyes and lips a soft testament to a long and complicated life. You wonder how old she really is.
“I never doubted it,” Melina sighs. “Not that she had a lot to learn from. I was…”
“You did what you could with what you had,” You offer.
She gives you a grateful look.
"Thank you," She repeats, and you're not sure what to do with that.
You smile. You've never been good at taking compliments, especially from someone like Melina.
“I now have three daughters.” Melina gesture to you.
It takes a moment for the words to sink in. You can only blink at her, not sure what to make of it.
Melina turns away, moving to the doorway. She pauses, her hand resting on the frame.
“She wants to be here,” She says knowingly. “She wants to be home with you and your children.”
There's a part of you that wants to argue, but the rest of you can't bring yourself to deny it. Not when she's looking at you with such sincerity.
You nod, and Melina leaves you with a gentle smile.
****
You didn’t want this time to come. Saying goodbye is always hard. Your love walking out of the door will always break you into a million tiny pieces.
This life you have here with Natasha is golden. You could only wish she’d be here to see it all. It’s the middle of the night. They leave soon. Their hushed plans and low whispers will be no more. You will be alone again. You will be the one to wipe Stella’s tears. You will be the one to hold Nicky.
As you turn the knob off in the shower, your head begins to spin. The water is still hot. You step out, almost jumping when you see Natasha standing before you.
She looks exhausted, dark circles under her eyes. Her hair is damp and pulled into a ponytail, her clothes wrinkled and damp with sweat. She must have just come from training with Melina and Alexei.
“I thought I’d join you,” She says with an unsure smirk.
“I’m already done,” You shake your head. You don’t mean to be short with her.
You push past her, wrapping a towel around yourself. She doesn’t move.
It feels like an eternity since she’s seen you this intimately. You can feel her eyes on you as you slip a tank top over your head, the cotton clinging to your damp skin.
You turn back to her, and she takes a step forward, reaching out and pulling the elastic from her hair. Her red locks tumble free, cascading around her shoulders.
You swallow, feeling the tension rising in the air.
“I’m going to check on the kids,” You swallow. “I um, I left some hot water for you.”
Natasha nods, but you don't wait for her response. You slip past her, padding quietly through the hallway.
When you step into the nursery, Nicky is asleep. He lies on his stomach, lips puckered, with a serene look on his face. You’d pushed his crib back into his room with the help of Natasha’s dad. Not that you needed it. But the sight of the big man cradling the baby was adorable.
Stella is asleep in her bed. It took a lot of convincing this time to get her to sleep. She doesn't want her Mama to leave. You can't blame her.
You sigh, your eyes moving to the window. It's a full moon tonight, the stars bright and shining in the clear sky. You sit with Stella a little longer before retreating to your bedroom.
You slide under the covers, closing your eyes, while listening to the constant noise of the shower. It's soothing.
After a while, the water shuts off. You hear the rustling of clothes, the bathroom door opening and closing, and the click of the light. You don't open your eyes.
“I don’t want to leave like this,” Natasha interrupts your peace.
You look at her, her eyes sad, her expression tired.
She sits down on the edge of the bed. Her hands are folded in her lap.
She looks like she wants to say something.
“Nat…” You trail off. You don’t know what to say.
Natasha sighs. She glances up, her eyes locking onto yours.
"I'm sorry.” She says, her voice soft. She climbs into the bed to sit beside you. She presses herself up against your body. “I’m sorry.”
"I don't want you to go," Your voice cracks. "But you have to."
Natasha lets out a ragged breath.
"I wish things could be different," she whispers, her voice wavering.
“They can be,” You urge. "Please. Come back to us. Come back to me. To the kids."
Natasha's brow creases, and she swallows thickly. She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out.
“I want that more than anything,” She replies.
"Then stay."
"I can't."
You shake your head, fighting the ache in your throat. "I can't lose you."
"You won't."
You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”
Natasha shifts closer. She reaches out and strokes your hair. You lean into the touch.
"I love you," She murmurs.
You look up at her, a weak smile playing on your lips. “I love you too.”
You sit in silence for a while. Her hands trail across your shoulders, down your back, tracing patterns on your skin.
It feels good.
She moves her hand to the nape of your neck, tugging gently. You lean in and meet her halfway. Your lips press together, soft and sweet.
The kiss is slow and tender, and Natasha pulls back.
"I've missed you," She murmurs, her lips brushing yours.
"I've missed you, too."
You pull her in, your hands sliding under her shirt. Her skin is warm and smooth, and her muscles ripple beneath your touch. She moans softly, her body arching toward yours.
“Tell me you want this,” Natasha breathes.
You nod, letting out a shaky breath.
Natasha leans in, kissing you hungrily. You whimper as her teeth graze your lower lip, and her tongue slips inside. She runs her hands along your thighs, pushing the tank top further up your body. You’re grateful for the dim lighting surrounding you. She can’t see the remaining baby weight or the stretch marks. You’re not so vain but the insecurities are still there.
Natasha pulls back, her eyes flicking up to yours. Her pupils are dilated, her lips parted slightly. She looks beautiful.
She kisses you again, her hands cupping your breasts, squeezing lightly.
“Do you usually sleep without panties or was this for me all along?” She whispers into your ear.
You shiver, goosebumps breaking out across your skin.
"Both," You manage, and she grins.
She pushes you back against the pillows and settles between your legs, her mouth moving down your neck, kissing and nipping.
Her fingers brush over your nipples, pinching and tugging lightly. You squirm beneath her, trying not to make a sound.
She kisses her way down your chest, trailing her lips across the curve of your breasts. She pauses, her tongue swirling around your nipple, and then she sucks gently.
You gasp, arching into her mouth. Her other hand moves to your other breast, massaging and squeezing.
Your hands slide into her hair, tugging lightly, and she moans against your skin.
She pulls back, looking up at you.
"I love the way you taste," She purrs.
"I love the way you taste." You echo.
She smirks, sliding a hand down between your legs.
You bite back a moan as her fingers tease your entrance. She presses two digits inside you, pumping slowly, curling them up towards her.
You grip the sheets tightly, struggling to keep quiet.
"God, you're so wet," She breathes. "So ready for me."
You moan, rolling your hips into her touch. You close your eyes as you allow yourself to feel.
Her thumb brushes over your clit, sending sparks through your body.
"Natasha," You gasp, clutching the sheets tighter.
"So sexy,” She groans as you widen your legs for her.
She leans forward and licks up the length of your pussy, making you whimper.
She swirls her tongue around your clit, teasing and stroking, and you moan louder than you mean to.
"That's right, baby," She growls. "Let me hear you."
You writhe beneath her, grinding against her face, desperate for more.
She pushes her fingers deeper, pumping faster, her tongue flickering over your clit.
“I want you up here,” You beg.
She places one last kiss on your clit, lovingly, before she rises to look into your eyes. She never stops pumping her fingers.
"Tell me what you want." She demands, her voice low and husky.
"I want you," You whisper. She kisses you again, swallowing your moans as they come. She curls her fingers, angling them in the way she knows makes you crazy.
"I want to see you," You whimper. "All of you."
Natasha smirks, slowing her pace.
"I'm all yours, babe."
She leans down, her lips ghosting over yours, her fingers still buried deep within you.
"I love you," She murmurs, kissing you again.
"I love you," You echo, reaching for the hem of her shirt.
You tug at it, and she lets go, allowing you to pull it off.
Your hands roam over her skin, admiring her toned body. You kiss her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder. You want to memorize every inch of her.
You tug on her shorts, and she shimmies out of them. She tosses them to the side.
"Fuck, I want you," She growls, pressing her lips against yours.
"Then take me," You reply, running your hands along her back. What happens after is a blur. You’re too blinded by the sheer pleasure coursing through you as she thrust harder.
You cling to her, gasping and panting, as you reach your peak.
"Yes!" She moans, burying her face in the crook of your neck.
"Yes!" You echo, feeling yourself fall apart.
Your orgasm hits you hard, waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You don’t anticipate the tears that follow but when you feel her kissing them away you know this was way more emotional than intended. All you needed was your wife. All you wanted was her.
You lie tangled in each other, her breath hot against your neck. You close your eyes, letting the warmth wash over you.
You stay like this for a while, savoring the closeness.
“I will come home,” Natasha promises. She nuzzles into you.
You nod, trying not to think about tomorrow.
"We can do this."
"We can do this." She nods.
“Do you need it?” You ask.
She nods.
It doesn't take long for you to attach the strap to your body. Her body reacts the way it always does. She arches into your touch as you slide it inside her.
You thrust gently, easing her open, watching her expression. She gasps, gripping the sheets.
“I love you,” You whisper to her. You know the both of you should be a bit more mindful of your guests across the hall.But this feels so fucking good.
She moans, biting her lip.
"I love you," She whimpers. "Don't stop."
You roll your hips, driving into her harder. You grip her hips, ramming yourself into her at a brutal pace, as she wheezes below you.
She's so beautiful, her body quivering, her cheeks flushed, her eyes screwed shut.
"God, baby," She groans.
"So tight," You moan. "Shit." You groan as you thrust.
She cries out, her fingers digging into your arms.
"Fuck," She gasps. "More."
You pick up the pace, pounding into her, grunting with the effort. She’s needed this release. This time with you. She doesn’t want you to be soft with her.
She whimpers, her back arching, her head thrown back.
"Yes," She moans.
"Cum for me," You demand as you rub her clit. "Now."
She trembles, her body convulsing.
"Fuck, Y/N," She moans.
Her legs lock around you, her toes curling.
"Good girl," You praise, slowing your movements.
She whines, her chest heaving.
"Y/N," She whispers.
You lean down and kiss her gently.
"I love you," You murmur.
She sighs contentedly, her eyes drifting closed.
“I know you’re tired,” You say. “We both are. But we will get through it. For better or for worse, right.”
"Forever," She agrees, her voice soft.
She reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
You rest your head against her shoulder, letting her hold you.
"We're going to be okay."
"Yeah, we will."
You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped in her arms.
She strokes your back.
"You're amazing," She whispers. "And beautiful."
You snuggle closer, basking in the warmth of her embrace.
You drift off to the sound of her heartbeat.
****
In the morning it’s time to say goodbye. She’s standing in the middle of the living room, settling Stella with her Barbies. Stella’s demeanor is more relaxed but cautious . She knows what’s about to happen. Nicky is sitting on the floor beside her, his stuffed lamb tucked under his arm.
He doesn't seem to notice his m his mother. He's far too focused on the toy in his hands.
“I will be back,” Natasha promises. “I love you and your brother so much.”
Stella nods.
You swallow, holding back tears.
“Don’t miss my birthday,” Stella says.
Natasha blinks.
"I won't," She assures her. "I'll be there, baby girl."
"Okay," Stella nods.
Natasha smiles, kneeling down and kissing Stella's forehead. She leans over to do the same to Nicky.
"Love you," She murmurs. She knows to make the goodbyes quick. She’s already hugged and kissed you. She’s almost to the door when Stella drops her dolls and races over to her.
“Mama,” Stella whispers.
Natasha turns around.
"Yes, moya malen'kaya vorobey?"
Stella wraps her arms around her, hugging her tightly.
"Don’t go,” She says, her voice cracking.
Natasha's eyes well up with tears, and she pulls Stella close.
"I have to," She says softly. "But I'll come back.”
“No,” Stella demands.
Natasha looks up at you, a sad smile playing on her lips.
You sigh, wiping away the tears that stream down your cheeks.
"It's okay," You reassure her. You reach down to grab Stella, managing to keep a grip on her, even as she fights you to get to Natasha.
"We'll be here," You promise.
Natasha takes a deep breath, her shoulders slumping.
"Okay," She whispers.
You hold onto Stella as her cries turn into screams for her Mama. Your baby shouldn’t have to feel this hurt. Natasha walks steadily out of the door and across the grass to the helicopters. She tries to ignore the crying.
Stella watches her mother leave, her heart breaking.
You watch her walk away.
When the doors to the helicopter shut, Stella goes limp.
“I want Mama,” She whimpers, her voice now hoarse.
“I know, baby. I want her too,” You cry.
You rock her until her breathing slows. Until her cries die down and she drifts off to sleep.
You stand there for a few moments, watching as the helicopter disappears over the horizon.
And then, you turn and head back inside.
You lay Stella on the couch and cover her with a blanket.
You take a seat on the floor beside her.
You watch her sleep, her tiny hands fisted, her face wet with tears. Nicky crawls into your lap, seemingly upset by all the commotion.
"It's okay," You tell him, stroking his hair.
It will all be okay. She promised.
next part
#natasha romanoff#black reader#natasha x reader#black widow x reader#black widow x female reader#natasha romanov#natasha x you#afamilyofherownau
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HIIIIIIIII ITS ⭐️ ANON AGAIN I'd like to request a older sister (2-1 year older than Andrew and shes like tall asf) that has the personality of omori from the game OMORI (if you dont whos Omori/ his personality: like doesn't speak for shit and is surprisingly patient with hooligans despite his anger issues) who also likes to gardening.
Ashley would probably give her some silly ass nickname having to due with flowers. Andrew would TRY to be chill around her since he has intrusive thoughts about both girls. (I AM NOT LETTING HIM LIVE THAT DOWN)
But OLDER SISTER READER would probably only put up with Ashley's attitude/lies and no one's else's. For example later in their life when they are sacrificing their parents, Renee would try to bribe Andrew and Reader into ditching Ashley but then Reader speaks up for the first time in her life, only to say "shut the fuck up, you bitch"
Heres more info on older sister Reader:
Her gift is Altered sight, as in she sees the world differently. Like she can see if people are lying or their true intention. So that's why when Renee was talking abt ditching Ashley she said shut the fuck up because she saw her true intention (whatever it was anyways).
Her bunny color would be red
Also her weapon(s) would be her bare hands, gardening sheers, or a hacksaw
Thank you for coming to my Ted talk ⭐️
notes from coff-in: LET ANDREW DATE HIS SISTERS PLEASE!!! i've never played omori but i remember watching manlybadasshero play it during the quarantine. kinda ran out of steam at the end (it's late and i'm very tired, my apologies ⭐️ anon)
[fem] reader-insert, [reader] is older than andrew by two years, incest
mr and mrs graves loved how quiet [reader] was as a child. she didn't make any noise, didn't talk at all, and was overall easy to overlook. the perfect child! why not have another? when andy came out the cursed womb, he was the same and probably learned to keep quiet too via [reader], his big sister. what's the harm in one more child? mrs graves would then learn the harm in having another child that is NOT quiet. leyley came in and couldn't be as quiet or put away as her older siblings, but thankfully this isn't [reader]'s first rodeo in taking care of a child... she's not good at it though (which makes sense cause she's fucking four years old)
andy and leyley are still very close together, especially leyley to andy since she's closer to andy's age (and goes to school with him longer) than [reader], but they both look up to [reader] as a mother figure. leyley had trouble dealing with [reader]'s quietness/muteness but her patience for leyley makes up for all the frustration she goes through. she definitely expects [reader] to pay more attention to her because she's the baby of the family, their little baby sister. how is she supposed to know shit if no one is there to teach her? how is she supposed to feel safe if no one is watching her? damn, she fucked up breakfast again even though andy taught her how not even a day ago, thankfully [reader] is there to make it for them, right? andy doesn't mind [reader]'s quietness. he's so used to leyley's loud and impulsive nature that having someone who's quieter and more mindful is appreciated. especially since she's older, andy sees her as the perfect role model to look up to.
i doubt the apartment they lived in had a yard but they do have a balcony, so i think [reader] would grow herbs and plants that can grow in pots (like strawberries and tomato plants). andy and leyley would pick up some things from watching [reader] take care of them (though they might've killed a plant once from forgetting to water it). [reader] would try her best to teach andy and leyley about taking care of the plants, what they're used for, how to prepare them into meals, etc and it would give them (specifically andy) such an oedipus complex. having [reader] comfort them when they're mad, staying patient and calm when they get frustrated and yell at her, hugging them when they're sad, UGH just being such a good mother figure and a big sister. andy loves hugging her, feeling safe in her arms. THEY WOULD BOTH LOVE HEARING HER HUMMING WHEN SHE DOES STUFF AROUND THE HOUSE
as they grow up, they both get very protective over [reader]. she can't date other people! it's a tad bit hard to enforce that since [reader] is two-four years older and usually aren't attending the same school as them for very long. they usually try to make it as CLEAR as possible to her current partner that they do not like them. andrew is very passive aggressive towards them while ashley is just... aggressive. [reader] gets mad at them the first and second time, enough for andrew and ashley to feel a little bit bad, but eventually [reader] just stops trying to date people (or at least bring them over to the apartment). she can't be too mad at them, they're probably a little bit scared to share their big sister with a stranger...
quarantine isn't so bad to them. [reader]'s little balcony garden helps them not starve for a little bit longer than canon, but not by much. andrew and ashley are both grateful to [reader] for trying to keep them all alive, but it's not a burden that she has to shoulder on her own. seeing the cultist, killing the wardens, escaping the apartment-- all very stressful things that they help [reader] through. andrew sleeps with [reader] some nights and holds her close. maybe even snuggling closer to her chest... after all, [reader] holds some power over him, no? she's older, if she is uncomfortable with it then she can just tell him to stop. he likes being the middle child. having the power and control over ashley but being watched over and taught by [reader], having both that dominate and submissive dynamic with his sisters. would definitely call [reader] mommy after they kill their parents
i find it kinda funny that the demon gives ashley a clairvoyant trinket and [reader] altered sight but doesn't give andrew anything. poor guy. i think [reader]'s true sight would honestly alter the dynamic of the graves' sibling relationship. if she can see the true intentions of people/seeing if they're lying than surely she would be able to tell when andrew is holding himself back and repressing his affection or can see ashley's overwhelming insecurity. would she play into these feelings? anyway, andrew and their parents were shocked when [reader] actually spoke when in the basement, especially when it was against mrs graves? like omg... boss moves, you know?
"shut the fuck up."
"h-huh?"
andrew kneeling down to threaten mrs graves with his cleaver, "[reader] and i don't like it when you talk about ashley like that."
----
coff-in
#cobweb in the coffin#⭐️ anon visits the coffin#tcoaal#the coffin of andy and leyley#andrew graves#ashley graves#tcoaal x reader#the coffin of andy and leyley x reader#andrew graves x reader#ashley graves x reader
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settle down (it'll all be clear)
T | 2.4k | Omegaverse, Alpha + Nurse Steve, Omega + New dad Eddie
Read on A03
Steve is going insane. He's only been inputting patient info into the system for fifteen minutes, but the repetition of it makes it feel like forever. The stack he's been working on barely has a dent in it, but he still thinks he could weep tears of joy when Claudia steps up to the counter and says “Steve, dear? We've got an Omega who-”
“I'm on it!” he replies before she can even finish. Just slams his current file shut and pushes the stack off to the side before standing. “Just tell me who and where.”
The woman chuckles and shakes her head fondly. “Eddie Munson, three-fourteen.”
Steve nods and gives her a grateful smile as he heads down the hall.
Sometimes omegas can become overwhelmed after childbirth, their hormones and emotions reaching a climax that leaves them in a state of extreme vulnerability. Usually they have a mate or family member nearby that can help settle them, help soothe their emotional overload.
But sometimes they don't have anyone. Single or abandoned omegas left to deal with it on their own usually have a harder time afterward, and it's become pretty common practice for newborn wards to have an alpha nurse on staff who can step in and fill that role.
Steve isn’t the only alpha nurse on shift tonight, but he still tends to be first choice for moments like this. Something about his demeanor is perfectly suited for the job, and he’s become an expert settler at this point. He knocks on the door to room 314 before stepping inside, and the Omega looks up at his entry.
The first thing Steve notices is the smell of burnt coffee that fills the room, acrid and bitter. The second is that the man looks exhausted. His brown hair is pulled into a haphazard bun, and there are fresh tears streaming down his face. He has a little bundle of blanket and baby clutched to his chest and his shoulders tremble beneath the hospital gown.
Steve's heart aches at the sight and he can’t help but step closer. “Hi there. My name is Steve, I'm an Alpha on staff here in the newborn ward. Nurse Claudia said you might need a bit of settling?”
The Omega - Eddie, Steve remembers - just looks at him for a moment, big brown eyes all shiny and wet from crying, and then he nods. His voice breaks on a weak “Please,” and Steve is at the bedside in an instant. He pulls off the scent patch on his wrist and offers his arm to Eddie, wanting to make sure the man isn't put off by his smoke and spice scent.
A bit of pride swells up as the Omega’s eyes flutter before squeezing shut, and when he nods in approval Steve peels off his remaining patches. He moves to grab the nearby chair, intending to drag it closer, but is stopped by a hand fisting in his shirt.
“Could you, uh. In the bed? Please?”
The man looks on the verge of a breakdown and Steve melts a little. Even though it’s not exactly protocol, he nods, and Eddie’s body seems to sag in relief. He scoots over and Steve sits next to him, purposely on top of the covers as he wraps his arm around those trembling shoulders and tucks Eddie close to his side. His low, rumbling purr starts up on instinct and Eddie’s breath hitches on a sob before he’s shoving his face into Steve’s neck. He just pulls Eddie closer, holds him tighter and lets him cry it out.
It takes a little while for Eddie to calm down, for the tears and the scent of burnt coffee to subside. It’s replaced with something sweet and milky, similar to the mocha lattes Steve likes to get on his way to work. It’s intoxicating, actually, and Steve can’t help but press his nose to Eddie’s temple and inhale.
“Sorry,” Eddie mutters after a bit. “I didn't think I'd be such a fucking mess.”
“Don’t apologize. You’d be surprised at how normal this is.”
The Omega pulls back a little, removing his face from the crook of Steve’s neck while keeping as much contact between them as possible. “What is? Having a breakdown and crying all over an absolute stranger?”
Steve chuckles and rubs Eddie’s shoulder in comfort. “Yeah, actually. There’s a reason we keep a few alphas on staff.”
“Glad to know it’s not just me, then,” he says, before his attention is pulled by a soft noise from the bundle in his arms. Steve looks down as well, getting his first look at Eddie’s pup, and oh, she’s beautiful. All rosy with a plump little face, and Steve feels helpless as he reaches out, touching her cheek as she coos softly.
“Doc says she has high alpha markers,” Eddie mutters. “I started thinking about how she’s going to be the complete opposite of me and I got so- so scared. That I won’t know what I’m doing, that I won’t be able to raise her the way she deserves. That I’ll be a fuck up like my parents were.”
Steve frowns and pulls Eddie closer so he can rest his cheek on the crown of brown curls, and Eddie starts to purr softly at the contact.
“I think the fact that you’re worried about all of that shows how much you care, shows that you want to be a good parent. And as someone who also had shitty parents, I think you will be.” He hears a soft sniffle and kicks his own purr back on, and the way it overlaps with Eddie’s makes something warm and fuzzy blossom in Steve’s chest.
They sit together for a long time, just chatting as Eddie’s pup - Ronnie, he learns - dozes away, clearly content. He learns that Eddie is single, that he knows who Ronnie’s dad is but doesn’t want the man anywhere near the little girl. They’d broken up before Eddie even realized he was pregnant, and he’d moved back to Hawkins as soon as he found out.
Steve learns that Eddie lives with his uncle, that the man was originally supposed to be here for the birth but of course, he happened to be working when Eddie went into early labor. In turn, he shares a bit about his own life, his job and his best friend and the not-kids he considers to be pack.
He only leaves when Ronnie eventually wakes up, crying and hungry, and reassures Eddie that all he has to do is call and Steve will be back in an instant.
Leaving the room - leaving Eddie - is hard, harder than it ever has been with anyone else. His inner alpha nearly whines as he walks away, as he puts distance between himself and the lonely Omega. He stops by the break room to apply some new scent patches and uses the chance to settle himself.
Yes, Eddie is single, and yes, his scent has a pull to it that Steve hasn’t experienced in a long time. But he’s a patient, and Steve can’t let his wires get crossed while the man is in his care. That would be beyond inappropriate, especially with the fragile state Eddie is in.
Steve goes back to the nurse’s station, intent on getting more of the files put into the system, and finds his stack about half the size of what it had been. He mentally reminds himself to thank Claudia when he sees her, and sits down to hopefully finish the tedious work.
Eddie calls him back to the room a few times, including once to sheepishly ask for his water pitcher to be refilled, and once to ask Steve to put Ronnie back in the bassinet so he can get some well-needed sleep. Steve stays with him even after he dozes off, slightly entranced by the sight of Eddie’s slender fingers held in his own, larger hand. It looks right, feels right, and he gives it a gentle squeeze before he slips out of the room and back to work.
At around five in the morning Eddie’s uncle shows up, grateful when Steve shows him back to the room with the still sleeping duo. The man seems nice, even tears up a bit when he sees Ronnie for the first time. Steve lets him be, knowing that he's probably tired after a night of working while stressing over his nephew.
He goes back once his shift ends around seven to find both men out cold, and he resists the instinct that urges him to go over and scent Eddie one last time, to leave a reminder of himself on Eddie's skin. Somehow he manages to pull himself away, and with one last look at the sleeping man and his little family, Steve leaves for the day.
He's off that evening, and he spends it thinking about Eddie. Every part of Steve’s inner alpha urges him to find the Omega, to show Eddie that Steve would be so good for him. He wants to bring the man back to his den, wants to bathe him and cook for him, wants to take care of Eddie so all he has to worry about is his pup and his recovery.
It’s a lot to feel for someone he met less than a day ago, someone he barely knows anything about. There’s just something about Eddie that makes Steve want more, more of his attention, his affection. Now that he knows what it’s like to hold Eddie, to sit in the heady mix of their mingling scents, he wants to do it over and over - every day, if he can.
When Steve goes in for his next shift Eddie is gone, and he does his best to tamp down the disappointment he feels. Patient, Steve, Eddie was a patient.
“He was discharged earlier today,” Claudia tells him at some point, and Steve has no idea how she’s able to read him as well as she does. “You know, if you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t wondering anything,” Steve replies while pretending to be busy with work. It’s bullshit, and he’ll probably have to redo it all later because he can’t concentrate, but it’s some kind of a distraction. The woman just hums in disbelief.
“Well, I told him that you usually work nights, two days on, one day off. Just in case.” She’s so casual about it, like just the thought of Eddie stopping by to see him doesn’t set Steve’s heart racing. He tries to keep busy, tries to distract himself because he knows Eddie probably won’t be back tonight - not when he was just discharged - but it doesn’t stop him from hoping.
Steve spends the next week of shifts waiting for a familiar face, and each morning he leaves a bit more disappointed. He tells himself over and over that Eddie is recovering, that he really shouldn’t be out and about so early after having his pup. He reminds himself again that Eddie was just a patient, that Steve was just doing his job and it wasn’t supposed to mean anything.
It’s a slow Tuesday night, and Steve is working at the nurse’s station when the smell of warm coffee hits him, too sweet and chocolatey for anything you could get in the hospital. He looks up just as Eddie leans against the counter, and- wow, the man is gorgeous when he isn’t crying from distress. His hair is down, a cascade of dark brown curls that Steve wants to sink his hands into, and he’s got a bit of color back in his cheeks, making him look much healthier than he had before.
Steve breathes a soft “Eddie,” and the man bites into his lip, clearly a bit shy as he smiles. “Hi, Steve. I, uh- Claudia told me when you’d be working and I just wanted to stop by and thank you for taking care of me when I was here. I was in a bad place without Wayne there, and you really helped me out. So, thank you.”
Thank him. Right, Eddie’s here to thank Steve for being good at his job, not for- any other reasons. Steve smiles and shrugs. “Yeah, of course. I mean, it seemed like you needed it, so.”
“I definitely did,” Eddie confirms, and Steve’s eyes flick down to where the Omega is fidgeting with his rings, chunky silver things that only look bigger on Eddie’s slender hands. “You know, Claudia also told me that you guys have a policy against dating patients, and since I’ve been discharged for over a week, I was wondering if you wanted to go out?”
Eddie wants to go out.
With him.
Steve is thankful for the required scent patches because he knows the area would be flooded with the smell of happy alpha otherwise. He doesn’t get a chance to respond before Eddie is continuing, “I know your shift ends pretty early in the morning, so I was thinking we could grab breakfast tomorrow? Benny's is usually open at the crack of dawn and their food is pretty good, so.”
He finishes with a little shrug and Steve is so endeared to him already. “I'd love that, Eddie,” he replies, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. “I get off at seven, so I can meet you there? Say 7:30?”
Eddie beams and Steve's stomach flips at the sight. He's barely able to bite back the beginning of a purr as Eddie says “That sounds great. I'll probably have to bring Ronnie, if that's okay?”
“I think I’d be more upset if you didn’t. I never got to hold her while you were here, you know.”
“Then I’ll definitely bring her.” Eddie taps on the counter as he takes a step back, and Steve knows they probably look like a couple of idiots with how they’re smiling at each other. He can't help it, even though he’s sure to get the teasing of his life later from the other nurses. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”
Steve nods and smiles wider. “See you then, Eddie.”
(The teasing he gets is all worth it the next morning, when Steve sees the way Eddie looks at him as he holds Ronnie for the first time. It's even more worth it a few months later when he and Eddie exchange bites, and Steve is finally able to move his mate and pup into his home.)
#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#stranger things#omegaverse#alpha steve harrington#omega eddie munson#joey writes
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what’s your opinion on “lebanon”? as it actually is in the show and how fans/fic writers interpret/approach it.
cause i’ve been binge-reading “lebanon” fics and i’ve noticed two patterns: sam might argue with john or he stays calm but regardless he preaches to dean about what a terrible father john was, and dean always falls back into his performing and just keeps defending john. now i love all that angst, really i love it so much, these fics are phenomenally written… but i’m just wondering if i’m crazy to think that dean wouldn’t actually fall back into that role to such an extent, and whether the episode actually kinda got it right by having dean feel secure with his family as it is. iirc my issue with the episode is that neither dean nor sam got to express any issues with john in an honest but civil way (and that john is too nice) but that still i liked dean’s expression of security, but tbh it’s been awhile since i last watched it so maybe i’m missing/misremembering smth… thanks!
One of the strangest things I see in fandom is how many people's sense of how Sam views John versus how Dean views John is just flat out wrong. The idea that Dean is always defending John while Sam is always criticizing him the whole show is negated over and over and over in the actual show itself—extremely overtly.
There's two issues here in my mind that lend to this fandom problem.
The fandom accepting Sam and Dean's "John Narratives" at face value in the early episodes of season 1. For example, watching 1.08 "Bugs", where Dean claims to have no resentments toward John and says Sam also was a dick during Sam and John's fight, and going, "Well there we go. Dean has no resentments and refuses to criticize John but Sam will." At this point, we already know from 1.06 "Skin" that Dean does have resentments toward John for not appearing to care about him and for abandoning him, and we get further indications in 1.11, and 1.21 in this season alone. Another example is Sam and Dean's clashes in 1.10 "Asylum" and in 1.11 "Scarecrow", which are largely analyzed by the fandom as moments where Dean is blindly following orders when they have some other, better option Sam is pushing, and Dean is just refusing to go along with Sam's much better ideas because he's too focused on believing their dad knows best... when that is not actually what is happening at all. Sam's alternative plans in the beginning of 1.10 and 1.11 are absolutely stupid. In 1.10, he wants to call the FBI on John to find him. That's his big idea—instead of following the coordinates John just sent them and seeing if he's there. In 1.11, Sam's big bright idea on finding John is to abandon some people to die on a time-sensitive case so he can go search all of Sacramento for John with nothing but an area code. His plans are dumb, plain and simple—and while we do see Dean hiding his own resentments in these episodes too, that does not remain true—which brings me to the other issue here.
Fandom doesn't leave room for the brothers perspectives on John and their outward expressions of those perspectives to shift or mature over the series. This is particularly funny because their perspectives are literally swapping over the course of season 1, and have pretty much fully swapped by 2.02.
Sam's shifting season 1 perspective on John
What actually happens in season 1, is that Sam, who starts out burning with resentment and hurt toward John for disowning him and being a smothering drill sergeant and absent, binge-drinking dad, slowly begins empathizing him because he's now suffered a similar trauma and is having extreme difficulty coping with it himself! Sam's empathy for and understanding of John (and hell—even respect for John handling it as well as Sam thinks he was capable) is already beginning to show in 1.02—where Sam asks Dean "How does Dad do it?" (i.e., deal with the same burning rage and desperation for vengeance that is tearing Sam apart) (gifset). In 1.04, he learns John was bragging about Sam's accomplishments to other people (gifset). In 1.08, when Dean tells Sam that John was never actually disappointed in him—that he was scared Sam would get hurt if he wasn't around (gifset here) a lot of Sam's anger about the Stanford fight fades. He ends the episode saying "Dad did the best he could" (a repeated quote often misattributed as coming more from Dean) and saying he wants to find him to apologize to him for the things he said (gifset). John and Sam share a heartfelt, tearful hug in 1.16—at the end of which Sam begs John not to leave, and in 1.20, John himself apologizes and explains what was going on in his head when they fought, and it ends with them smiling and laughing as they acknowledge they understand each other and they're the same. I track Sam and John's relationship through the tag, #we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone because Sam says that during that conversation in 1.20 (gifset).
Dean's shifting season 1 perspective on John
At the same time this shift is happening in Sam, we see Dean going the exact opposite direction. He starts out believing John has their best interest at heart even if they don't understand his actions, but the resentment is there too (1.06). In 1.09 and in 1.12, Dean needs help desperately, and John doesn't answer. While Sam is learning that John actually cares about him, Dean is growing more and more concerned that John doesn't care about him (Dean) specifically. We see this resentment start to come out (season 1 compilation set here) in 1.20, when John says he wants to keep the boys safe and that's why he's ditching them, and Dean calls it "A bunch of crap". Dean begins standing up to John to his face from this episode onward—finishing 1.20 with a "Yeah well we saved your ass" in response to John saying they disobeyed him. In 1.21, John tries to get on his case, and Dean lays into him about not answering the phone and specifically about abandoning Dean when Dean needed him in 1.09 and 1.12. In 1.22, Sam tries to get his way by telling Dean that John wouldn't want them to bring The Colt to save him, and Dean yells "I don't care what Dad wants!" and then when Sam starts throwing the blame on him for everything, Dean says,
Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that? You both can’t wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I’m gonna be the one to bury you. You’re selfish, you know that? You don’t care about anything but revenge.
Dean has compared Sam and John more than once during the series, and it has never ever been a compliment.
Sam and Dean in the rest of the series
Sam and Dean's interactions about John in rest of the series are... almost universally the opposite of what the fanfics you've picked up suggest. Their interactions almost always show Dean criticizing John and Sam keeping silent or defending him, or reiterating that John did what he had to/the best he could.
Gifset on Dean's whole season 2 "Fuck John Winchester" vibe here.
In 2.01, Dean shouts at John for (it appears) abandoning him to die:
DEAN Come on, Dad. You've gotta help me. I've gotta get better, I've gotta get back in there. I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you going to do anything? Aren't you even going to say anything? I've done everything you have ever asked me. Everything. I have given everything I've ever had. And you're just going to sit there and you're going to watch me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?
Sam and John have a horrible fight where John blames him for Dean's condition and Sam tells him to go to Hell only for him to make a demon deal and literally go to Hell that same day (gifset) and Sam tries to start another fight right before John dies but John refuses to engage (gifset). The result ends up being that Sam and Dean have fully swapped places on John by 2.02 with John's death as the catalyst. John's death leaves Sam with regrets that their last interaction was Sam trying to start a fight (2.02). He decides he wants to hunt in John's memory (2.02) (gifset1, gifset2) while a part of Dean desperately wants to quit the life altogether—he's clawing the walls but feels helplessly trapped (2.09, 2.10, 2.20).
Sam defends John while Dean suggests John lead them down the wrong path with a dogmatic rule book (2.03). He demands they go to Lawrence so he can place John's dog tags over Mary's grave (2.04). He spends the season regurgitating John's orders, pushing Dean to do what John told him to do (2.11, 2.14, 2.20) while Dean wants to quit the life (2.09, 2.10, 2.20) and burns with anger toward John. In 2.10, Dean says "I wish to god he'd never opened his mouth!" about John.
In 2.11 "Playthings":
SAM (shoving DEAN to face him) Dean! Dad told you to do it, you have to. DEAN Yeah, well, Dad's an ass! (SAM frowns in confusion) He never should have said anything! I mean, you don't do that, you don't, you don't lay that kind of crap on your kids! SAM No. He was right to say it! Who knows what I might become? Even now, everyone around me dies!
We see Dean seething with resentment while Sam defends John's orders and tries to enforce them on Dean, carrying the legacy of their father in more ways than one.
Over and over, we get indications that a part of John treated Dean as disposable while he sheltered Sam, and that Dean is increasingly aware of the impact that's difference has had on him—to the point he realizes his father's neglect and abuse is the reason he isn't fighting to save himself in 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream Of Me". Dean and John's relationship is intentionally paralleled with a physically abusive relationship between a father and son in this same episode (gifset, meta), and in this episode, Dean rejects his father as an "obsessed bastard", calls Bobby his father (gifset), and decides from this point forward, he's going to fight to save himself from his demon deal because fuck John Winchester.
DREAM DEAN Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you? DEAN Son of a bitch! My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam! That was his crap! He's the one who couldn't protect his family! He– who wasn't there for Sam! I always was! He wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me! And I don't deserve to go to Hell!
And yeah! Dean also still loves John! And more than that—he craves John's protection. We see this in 3.14 "Long Distance Call" when the Crocotta calls to Dean as John from beyond the grave, telling Dean exactly what Dean wants to hear: "I never wanted this. Never. You're my boy, I love you. I can't watch you to go to hell, Dean," and telling Dean he can save him. This is pure longing for the love and protection Dean has always desired from John but feels like he's never received. Instead, he's always felt disposable.
In season 4? Oh boy... we get this incredible bit in 4.10 between Dean and Anna:
ANNA I was stationed on earth 2,000 years. Just... watching... silent... invisible... out on the road... sick for home... waiting on orders from an unknowable father I can't begin to understand. So don't tell me that -- DEAN laughs. ANNA What is so funny? What? DEAN Nothing. Sorry. It's just...I can relate.
Then in after meeting Adam in 4.19, Sam and Dean have a fight about whether to bring Adam hunting with them or leave him to a normal life:
DEAN 'Hunting is life. You can't have connections.' Dad gave you that exact same speech, remember? It was just before you ditched us for Stanford. You hated Dad for saying that stuff, and now you're quoting him? SAM Yeah, well, turns out Dad was right. DEAN Since when? SAM Since always. Dean, when I look at Adam, you know what I see? DEAN A normal kid. SAM No. Meat. Because the demons and monsters out there, that's all he is. I hated Dad for a long time. I did. But now I think I understand. So we didn't have a dog and a white picket fence. So what? Dad did right by us. He taught us how to protect ourselves. Adam deserves the same. DEAN Listen to yourself, man. SAM You think I’m wrong? DEAN I think it's too late for us. This is our life. This is who we are, okay? And it's fine. I accept that. But with Adam, he's still got a chance, man. He can go to school. He could be a doctor.
Sam says John did right by them. Dean thinks he absolutely didn't, but they can't change who they are now—they can only keep others from falling down the same path.
At the end of the episode? Oh boy...
DEAN You know, I finally get why you and Dad butted heads so much. You two were practically the same person. SAM looks over. DEAN I mean, I worshipped the guy, you know? I dressed like him, I acted like him, I listen to the same music. But you were more like him than I will ever be. And I see that now. SAM I'll take that as a compliment. DEAN You take it any way you want.
It is NOT a compliment.
In 5.16, Dean is confronted with god's intentional absence, and burning with resentment, says to Joshua,
Forget it. Just another dead-beat dad with a bunch of excuses, right. I’m used to that. I’ll muddle through.
In 5.13, Sam takes the opportunity presented to him by young John's presence to defend their father and tell John that he forgives him (gifset).
JOHN Look, how long have you known about this...hunting stuff? SAM Pretty much forever. My dad raised me in it. JOHN You're serious? Who the hell does that to a kid? SAM Well, I mean, for the record, Mary's parents did. JOHN I don't care. You know, what kind of irresponsible bastard lets a child anywhere near—Y-you know, you could've been killed! SAM I, uh...came kind of close. SAM laughs. JOHN The number it must've done on your head...Your father was supposed to protect you. SAM He was trying. He died trying. Believe me. SAM sits down on the bench under a window. SAM I used to be mad at him. I—I mean, I used to... I used to hate the guy. But now I—I... I get it. He was...just doing the best he could. And he was trying to keep it together in—in—in this impossible situation. See... My mom, um... She was amazing, beautiful, and she was the love of his life. And she got killed. And...I think he would have gone crazy if he didn't do something. Truth is, um, my dad died before I got to tell him that I understand why he did what he did. And I forgive him for what it did to us. I do. And I just—I love him.
What Lebanon does is present Sam with the opportunity to reiterate his forgiveness toward a John who understands the context:
SAM Dad… for me? That fight… that was a lifetime ago. I don’t even remember what I said, and – I mean… yeah. You know what? You did some messed-up things. But I don’t… I mean, when I think about you… [voice breaks] and I think about you a lot… I don’t think about our – our fights. I think about you… I think about you on the floor of that hospital. And I think about how I never got to say goodbye. JOHN Sam. Son. I am so sorry. SAM I’m sorry, too. But you did your best, dad. You – you fought for us, and you loved us, and… that’s enough.
So yeah! The fanfic narrative here where Sam is Mr. "Dad was bad" and Dean is Mr. "Nooo dad did the best he could" IS ABSOLUTE NONSENSE!!!!!
#mail#multiseason#john#i dont deserve what he put on me#we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone#the flannel business#14.13#1.02#1.06#1.08#1.11#1.12#1.09#2.01#2.02#5.13#5.16#4.19#4.10#2.03#2.04#spn revisionisms
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Me again lol I was wondering if u could do Melissa x reader where reader is autistic and has an autistic meltdown or struggles with change in routine and Melissa helps her (lol sorry I keep requesting fics but your writing is sooooo good I can’t get enough and as always no pressure and look after yourself 🫶)
Hey, thank you for the prompt! I literally just moved 2 weeks ago from one end of the city I live in to the other so I wrote that reader moves since its really relatable to me right now. And feel free to send as many prompts as you want, it’s not a problem😉. Hope you like it!
On another note, I was going to post this tomorrow but kept seeing people like my other fics so I figured I could just post it now lol. Also I can’t believe how many people are liking my fics! Especially ‘her poco sole’ , that was the one I really didn’t know if people were gonna like and it’s the most liked one which surprised me. I’m gonna try to get another one shot to a prompt I got a few hours ago and the next chapter of Worth It. I do have my acting workshop tomorrow and a role on Sunday but I’m gonna try!
Overwhelmed
Warnings: reader has a meltdown
Words: 3.1k
You’ve always done things a certain way, you planned your day ahead of time and you don’t like changes.
You got diagnosed with Autism when you were 13. Your parents knew nothing about it but were super supportive and researched it to better help you. They also liked to ask you questions about what you prefer to help you even further.
You all realised that routine is very important for you, and if something changed then you would need a bit of time to calm down from your mini freak out. If it was small changes like having to wear a different shirt or a friend wants to meet up at a different store, those you can deal with. But big ones like if a friend you were going to hang out with cancelled last minute or a family member dropped by unexpectedly or you moved.
That last one you didn’t experience a lot thankfully. You only remember moving once, and it was moving out of your parents place and in with a friend you’ve known since first grade. The next time would be when you moved in with Melissa.
You got accepted for a job to be a teacher's aide at Abbott Elementary. You walked in at 7:30 and went to the principal's office to get your badge and to know who the teacher you’ll be helping is. You liked being a teacher's aide instead of the teacher. If there was any big changes to the day then the teacher mostly has to deal with it and you just do what you’re told.
You got introduced to the principal, you didn’t understand how she got the job with how she acts but you don’t ask, it’s your first day after all.
« so the teacher that you’ll be an aide for, her name is Melissa Schemmenti. I’ll bring you to meet her now, she’s in the break room. » Ava said and you nodded your head. You followed her there and walked in the room and all the teachers there looked up and looked at you and you blushed a bit. You got nervous when you felt put in the spotlight with a bunch of people you don’t know. « Hey Melissa, your new aide is here. ». She told someone and when Ava moved out of the way your breath caught in your throat. A pair or beautiful green eyes were on you and they belonged to the most beautiful woman you’ve ever met. And then it hit you, she’s the teacher you’ll be helping. You’re either really lucky or really fucked. You then remember that you should introduce yourself.
« Hi, my name is y/n y/l/n. You must be Melissa Schemmenti. » you tell her and she nods then looks at Ava.
« She better be better than the last one Coleman. » she says and you look confused. She already had an aide that she didn’t like?
« I don’t know, I didn’t pick her, the school board did. » Ava says then leaves. And you just stand there not knowing what to do until one of the teachers stands up to greet you.
« Hi y/n it’s nice to meet you, my name is Janine Teagues. I’m a second grade teacher. » she says and is practically bouncing in your face and you lean back a bit, a bit surprised by her energy and enthusiasm.
« Hi. » is all you say, you never really know what to say to someone new.
« Alright kid, follow me, I’ll bring you to the classroom. » Melissa says as she gets up and you nod as you follow her out of the break room.
You stare at her little bit, you don’t know what to think of her yet other than she’s stunning and you oddly feel safe around her. Which is different, it takes you a few times of getting to know someone before you even feel comfortable. But it seems this woman has the power to make herself go from being a complete stranger to all the way to feeling safe around her.
« You’re really quiet. » she says to you as she bends down a bit to unlock her door with her key around her neck.
« Sorry, just nervous. » You tell her and she motions for you to go into the room.
« I didn’t say it was a bad thing, definitely a nice change from the last one. » she says and you want to be better than the last one so you can’t help but ask her.
« What did the last one do that you didn’t like? Just so I don’t repeat it. » You tell her and she looks at you curiously.
« She disrupted the class more that the students did. She made it worse more than she helped. » she simply said and leaned against her desk and folded her arms. And that’s when you get a look at what she’s wearing. Black leggings with a pink top and black leather jacket. Oh. You always found a girl who wears a leather jacket hot. « Do I scare you? » she says as you haven’t said anything.
« I don’t know you yet. I’m just nervous meeting new people and never know what to say. I’m autistic so I’m not as good with social interactions as other people. » You tell her and she nods.
« Well this is the classroom. I have a split class. » she says as she takes a seat on her desk and puts her hands together on her lap. « I have 20 second graders and 10 third graders. »
« Oh fuck. » you say and she laughs.
« That was my reaction too. Do you have any questions? »
« Um » you say and think about it. « What will you be needing me to do? »
« Just stuff to help really. Like photocopy papers, hand out tests, help them with some class work. Might need you to sometimes teach the third graders a quick lesson in the back of the classroom. » she says and you nod. This sounds like it’ll be good, you think. « any other questions? » she asks.
« Just mostly wondering how you’ve been doing this mostly by yourself. You must be a hell of a teacher to have 30 students in your class. » You tell her and she smiles.
« It was hard at first I’ll admit. I even punched the head of a cardboard samurai right off before I asked for an aide. » she says and you laugh.
The two of you talk for a bit before students start arriving. Melissa has you helping the third graders with some work while she teaches currency to the second graders. She gets you to grade some tests for most of the morning then has you help bring them to the cafeteria at lunch.
« You were a great help today so far, keep up the great work. » she says with a smile and you beam.
A month goes by with you helping Melissa and she’s less stressed now that she has an aide that’s helpful and you’ve settled in nicely with the class and some of the teachers. Until you get home from work one day and your friend tells you that her work transferred her to another city and she’s moving in a month and your smile falls. You can’t afford the rent by yourself, that means moving.
The next day at school, Melissa can tell something is bothering you since you seem distracted and in your head a lot. During her prep period, she asks you about it.
« Hey, what’s going on with you? You seem distracted this morning. » she asks you and you look up at her.
« I’m sorry, just a lot on my mind. » you tell her.
« You wanna talk about it? » she asks and you shake your head, you don’t really want to put it on her.
« You sure? »
You sigh and put your chin on your hands. « Just found out last night that I have a month to find a new place and move. And I looked a bit last night and there’s nothing I can afford by myself and very few people are looking for roommates. » you tell her and she doesn’t say anything. « Sorry, I didn’t want to bother you with my problems. » you tell her and she shakes her head.
« I offered remember. And plus I was actually going to start looking for a roommate. » she says and you look at her. « I have a spare room I’m not using and wouldn’t mind some extra cash. » you look at her confused, wondering if she’s saying what you think she is. « I guess what I’m saying is , if you need a place, you can move in with me. »
And that’s how you got here. The day you’re moving in with Melissa. And you’ve been freaking out about it for a week, your friend has been trying to help you pack and comfort you the best she can. You move your things into her place all day, you don’t have a lot of time to think about it until you’re standing in your new room, and it hits you all at once. Everything changed, different room, different house, different roommate, different end of the city. It all changed and you crumble to the ground and bring your legs to your chest and hug your legs and start rocking to comfort yourself.
« Hey y/n I made dinner and was wondering if… » Melissa comes by your room and sees you. « Y/n? You ok? »
You don’t say anything, you feel like you can’t talk right now, it’s all too much. You end up shaking your head and she comes over and sits on the ground next to you. She doesn’t say anything, she just wraps her arms around you and brings you in for a hug. And that’s when you break and start crying and Melissa rubs your back in a circular motion. The repetitive movement and the physical contact of someone you know soothes you. After a minute you pull back and wipe your tears off. And she just sits next to you for a few minutes, letting you calm down « Thank you. » you tell her when you feel like you can talk again.
« Not a problem. I know it can get overwhelming. But I can help you settle in so it’s not so scary. You like knowing about things right? » she asks and you nod. « Ok, well today I can show you around the house so you know where things are. And then tomorrow I can show you where I shop and you can decide if you like it or not. Then I can show you all the best places to get a bite to eat around here and anything else you want to know. » she offers.
« You’d do that for me? » you ask and she nods. « Why? »
She shrugs. « Because you’re a good person who just needs a bit of help. » she says and you smile at her.
« You know at first, I was a bit scared of you. » You tell her and she laughs.
« I knew it! » she says with a smile.
« But after getting to know you, and seeing how you are with the students, I realised how much of a softie you are. » You tell her and she glares at you.
« Don’t go telling anyone that! » she tells you sternly. And you put your hands up in surrender.
« Don’t worry I won’t, I know you got a reputation to keep. » You joke with her. « was there something you needed btw? » You ask her, remembering she was asking you something before she saw you on the floor.
« Just that I made dinner and wanted to know if you wanted something. I always make a lot. » she says and you beam. You’ve heard great things about her cooking but haven’t had any yet.
Turns out what they say about her cooking didn’t live up to how great she actually was. It was better than you thought. She did give you a tour of the house after supper and you felt a little better. You ended up watching tv with her and she stayed right beside you so that your arms are touching. She knows that close proximity with someone you know helps you calm down and process things.
For the next week you barely say anything. You’re more quiet than normal and you hide in your own head, in your own little fantasy world that you have complete control of.
Melissa has no idea what’s going on with you, and that’s when she starts actually looking up autism and how it affects the person and how they act and how to help them. She sees that if they’re dealing with a lot of big changes, they get overwhelmed and they either repress it and pull away from people or have a meltdown, it also says that they can repress it then have a meltdown. And that’s exactly what happens with you. Melissa was prepared in case it happened, it’s just how it happened and what you end up doing after, that shocked her.
You came home after going grocery shopping and slammed the front door. Melissa was dusting her table with all her pictures when you came in.
« You alright there sunshine? » Melissa joked and you glared at her. Melissa came from an Italian family, so glares didn’t even faze her. She went and leaned on the side of the couch and crossed her arms.
« I’m fine, just they didn’t have some things I wanted so I just walked out. » You said, trying to take your jacket off but it got stuck when trying to take your arms out and you let out a huff.
« Need help? » she asks with a raised eyebrow.
« No. » you snap and continue to struggle. « Ugh why is nothing going right! » Melissa walks over to you and pulls at the arm of the jacket and you’re able to take it off. You slam your jacket on the ground « stupid jacket! Stupid grocery store! » You half scream out.
« Hey it’s alright » she tells you and puts a hand on your shoulder trying to comfort you.
You gasp and turn to her with a glare before shrugging her hand off. « Don’t touch me. » you snap at her then try to calm yourself down. Melissa tries again, knowing that physical contact helps you and read that doing things that helps that autistic person calm down helps during a meltdown. « I said don’t touch me! » you tell her and back up to get away. You end up backing into a wall and you feel like everything is too much and you grab your hair and start freaking out.
« Y/n it’s alright » she says and you barely hear her. She wraps her arms around you from behind you and you scream at her to let you go and try to push her off but she hangs on. And then you start crying and fall to the ground and she follows you, still hugging you. You put one of your hands on her hand and lean into her. « it’s ok y/n, you’re ok. » she says, still hugging you from behind. She rests her chin on your shoulder and you relax more into her. After about a minute you sit up a bit and she removes her head from you. You turn around and in a wave of confidence, you lean in and kiss her.
She kisses you back and she feels you smile. You pull back and look into her eyes. « R u ok y/n? » she asks you after it seems you’ve calmed down.
« I think mostly, it’s still a bit hard for me, I’m still processing everything. » You tell her and she gets an idea. She helps you back and tells you to stay there for a second. She goes over and turns on her Bluetooth speaker and it connects to her phone. She opens her Spotify and clicks on a song. The song starts playing through the speaker and you instantly recognize the song, it’s the Macarena.
« Come on I’m sure you know the moves. » she tells you when you raise your eyebrows at her. She pulls you away from the wall and goes behind you and moves your arms to the music with the moves. You start laughing at her goofiness but eventually you start getting into it and she lets your arms go and does the moves with you. At the end of the song, your both laughing and having a great time, then the next starts playing and it’s ‘can you feel the love tonight’ from the lion king. Melissa just goes with it and holds out a hand for you to take. « May I have this dance? » she asks you and you giggle and you take her hand.
She brings you close to her and puts one hand on your shoulder and moves her hand in yours to the proper position and you put your hand on her waist. She starts doing the waltz with you and you’re surprised. She ends up being a really good dancer.
« You seem surprised. » she tells you.
« I am, I’m wondering if there’s something you can’t do. » you tell her and she laughs. « I’m being serious, you’re an amazing teacher, your meals taste like heaven, you can waltz really well. I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew a second language. » you tell her as a joke but looks at you with a smile.
« Conosco Italian. » she says and you look at her. « That means I know Italian. »
« I was actually joking but at this point I’m not surprised. » You tell her and she giggles. The song ends but both of you don’t pull away. « thank you btw. You’ve helped me so much. » You tell her with a smile and she smiles back at you.
« of course mia carina. » she tells you.
« Ok now you’re just showing off. » You joke and she laughs. Then she puts a hand around your neck and kisses you and you kiss her back. It’ll take time but Melissa is willing to help you with all the changes and to make her house feel like home to you.
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Between Power and Freedom
Part 2
Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Shurley Female character
Summary: Y/N, the ambitious daughter of a powerful CEO, grapples with her father's choices, while she secretly takes a job with Dean Winchester, the rugged CEO of a rival company. Sparks fly between Y/N and Dean as they navigate their growing attraction amid corporate rivalry and family pressure.
Warnings: This story will contain parts that are 18+!
English is not my first language
*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*
Dean stormed out of the venue, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. The cool night air hit him as he strode towards the old Chevy Impala parked in the lot, his first car. It didn’t matter that he was the CEO of Winchester Industries now or that he could afford the most luxurious cars on the market; the Impala was a part of him, just like the memories of his sister, Charlie. He could never part with either.
Sam followed closely behind, watching his brother’s tense shoulders and the way Dean’s jaw was locked, clearly trying to keep his anger in check. He knew how much it took for Dean not to turn around and hit Chuck Novak right in the face.
“Don’t let him get to you like that,” Sam said softly, hoping to calm his brother down.
Dean spun around, his eyes burning with fury. “I can’t help it, Sammy. He needs to keep our sister’s name out of his greasy mouth!” He kicked the tire of the Impala, the frustration boiling over. “He’s a snake, you know that. He poked me right where it hurts, and he knows it.”
Sam ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “I know, Dean. Trust me, I do. But you know as well as I do that punching Chuck would only lead to more trouble—legal issues, court dates, all the crap we don’t need. We’d be playing right into his hands.”
Dean’s shoulders slumped slightly, and he leaned against the Impala, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re right. God, you’re right,” he muttered. “But that doesn’t make me want to hit him any less.”
Sam leaned against the car beside him, thinking. There had to be a better way to deal with Chuck. As much as they both hated it, they had to think strategically.
Dean was silent for a few moments, staring off into the distance. Then suddenly, he straightened up, a sly grin creeping across his face. “Why don’t we hit him where it really hurts?” he said, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
Sam raised an eyebrow, unsure of where Dean was going with this. “What do you mean?”
Dean’s grin widened. “His daughter, Y/N. You saw her tonight, didn’t you? She looked miserable. Unhappy with her job, stuck under his thumb.” He paused, looking at Sam. “Chuck’s grooming her for something, probably to marry that slimy bastard Gabriel, and you know how he is. But if we steal her away from him? Offer her a job, something where she can get out from under Chuck’s control… that’ll drive him insane.”
Sam frowned, trying to follow Dean’s line of thought. “Dean, Y/N’s… well, overqualified for any position we have right now. The only opening we’ve got is in accounting, and with her degree, she could easily be in a management role. I doubt she’d be interested.”
Dean waved it off. “Doesn’t matter. Offer it to her anyway. Give her an out, let her make the decision. It’s not just about the job, Sam—it’s about giving her a way to break free. She’s stuck in Chuck’s world, just like we were stuck in Dad’s, but if she sees there’s another option… she might take it. And when she does? That’ll hurt Chuck more than any punch ever could.”
Sam looked thoughtful for a moment, weighing the idea. “You really think she’ll go for it?”
Dean nodded, his face serious now. “She’s smart, Sam. She’s not like her old man. She’s looking for something more, something that isn’t tied to Chuck’s empire. And even if it’s just a small accounting job to start, it’s a step toward something bigger.”
Sam sighed, seeing the determination in his brother’s eyes. Dean was set on this, and in a way, he had a point. If Y/N was as trapped as she seemed, offering her a lifeline could be the one thing that pulled her away from her father’s grip.
“Alright,” Sam finally agreed. “I’ll reach out to her. Schedule a meeting, see if she’s interested.”
Dean clapped his brother on the shoulder, his grin returning. “That’s my boy. Set it up ASAP. The sooner we get her away from Chuck, the better.”
Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “You always have a plan, don’t you?”
Dean smirked, pushing himself off the Impala. “I don’t just have a plan, Sammy. I have a mission.” He looked back at the event hall, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Chuck has been on top for too long, playing people like pieces on a chessboard. But not this time. This time, we’re flipping the game on him.”
With that, Dean opened the door to the Impala, sliding into the driver’s seat, the engine roaring to life as he revved it. Sam climbed in beside him, already pulling out his phone to make a note to contact Y/N.
As they pulled out of the parking lot, Dean’s focus was sharp. The night had been rough, but now, he had a plan. And this time, Chuck wasn’t going to see it coming.
--
The next morning, I was buried in my desk work at Shurley Enterprises when my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen, a number I didn’t recognize. Figuring it was some client or a follow-up from the event last night, I answered, my tone neutral.
“Hello?”
“Y/N, it’s Sam Winchester,” the voice on the other end said, calm and familiar. My brow furrowed in confusion. Why would Sam be calling me?
“Uh, hi Sam,” I replied, not quite sure where this was going.
“I wanted to follow up on something,” he began, his tone kind but serious. “Dean and I were talking last night, and we wanted to offer you a position at Winchester Industries. I thought this might be an opportunity for you.”
At first, I bristled, my defenses kicking in. “What? You want me to leave my dad’s company? I’m not some pawn you can use to get back at him.”
“No, Y/N,” Sam said quickly, and I could hear the sincerity in his voice. “This isn’t about that. I… I know what it’s like to work under a father who has plans for you that don’t exactly match what you want. To feel like your life isn’t your own.”
There was a soft pause. “Dean and I had to take over the family business after our dad passed, but before that, it felt like we were on his path, not ours. I get it if you feel trapped.”
I was silent for a moment. He was right, that was exactly how I felt—like my life wasn’t my own, like I was just living out my father’s plans. Sam’s words hit closer to home than I’d like to admit, and for a second, I considered the idea of escaping Shurley Enterprises. So, I agreed to meet him for coffee during lunch to discuss the opportunity.
We met at an old café not too far from my office, a quaint little place with mismatched chairs and the smell of freshly ground coffee beans. When I arrived, I spotted Sam immediately. He was sitting by the window, looking much more casual than the sharp suit he wore at last night’s event.
He wore a jeans—expensive ones, I could tell—and a simple polo shirt. Yet, even in casual clothes, there was an air of professionalism about him.
As soon as he saw me, Sam stood up and smiled warmly, greeting me with a kiss on the cheek. It caught me off guard, but in a surprisingly pleasant way.
“Hey,” he said, pulling out the chair for me.
“Hey,” I replied, sitting down. I could feel the tension ease as we started talking, like we were already old friends. Sam had a way of making conversation feel natural, even though just yesterday we had been strangers. We talked about the event, about small things, about the café itself, but I knew why we were really here.
After a while, Sam steered the conversation back to business. “So, about that job offer… We could really use someone like you at Winchester Industries. The position I have right now is in accounting. I know it’s not much, but Bobby, our current accounting manager, is close to retiring. When that happens, the position is yours if you’re interested.”
I took a deep breath, mulling over his words. Sam wasn’t lying. He wasn’t offering me a glamorous, high-powered role. But he was offering me an escape, a chance to build something for myself, away from my father’s control. Still, the thought of leaving Chuck, despite everything, wasn’t something I could just do on a whim.
“I… I appreciate the offer, Sam. I really do,” I said slowly, my voice soft but firm. “But I can’t just leave my dad’s company like that. He might be difficult, but he’s still my father. And Shurley Enterprises—it’s my family’s legacy.”
Sam nodded, his expression understanding. “I get it, Y/N. Family’s complicated. I won’t pressure you. But, if you ever decide you want something different, something that’s yours, the door’s open.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, sliding it across the table toward me. “Here’s my number. If you change your mind, or if you ever just need to talk, give me a call.”
I picked up the card, turning it over in my fingers. It was a simple gesture, but somehow, it felt like more. It was a reminder that I had options, that I wasn’t as trapped as I thought.
“Thank you, Sam,” I said, smiling at him.
“Of course,” he replied, smiling back, his eyes warm and genuine. For a moment, I thought about what it would be like to work for someone like Sam. Someone who listened, who understood. But I wasn’t ready to make that leap just yet.
We finished our coffee, the conversation drifting back to lighter topics. And when we finally parted ways, I walked back to Novak Enterprises with Sam’s card tucked securely in my purse, knowing that no matter what happened, I had a choice.
And maybe, one day soon, I’d make it.
--
When I got home that night, I could feel something was off the moment I stepped through the door. The lights were on, and there was the faint smell of whiskey lingering in the air. My heart skipped a beat as I realized my dad had let himself into my apartment.
“Dad?” I called, already knowing the answer. He was standing in the living room, his arms crossed, his face flushed with anger. I hadn’t even had time to put my bag down before he was glaring at me, his posture radiating fury.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though my stomach churned. I had never seen him this mad before—not at me, at least.
“I heard,” he began, his voice sharp and accusatory, “that you had a date with a Winchester today.”
My heart sank. He knew. How did he know?
“No, Dad, it wasn’t a date. Sam invited me for lunch, but it’s not what you think,” I said quickly, stepping forward, trying to explain before things escalated. But it was no use. I could see the storm in his eyes, and I knew there was no reasoning with him.
“What I think” he spat, taking a step closer to me, “is that you should be spending more time thinking about our business. And about Gabriel. Not having lunch with the competition.”
I sighed, my eyes dropping to the floor. It was always the same with him—business, control, and Gabriel. The suffocating expectations that were becoming unbearable. But before I could say anything, he roughly grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him.
“Why did you meet with Sam Winchester?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “What did he want?”
“T-to offer me a job,” I stammered, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks from his grip. My heart raced, and I could see the moment the words hit him. His eyes widened in shock, but what came next caught me completely off guard.
“And what did you say?” he asked, his voice almost too calm, but I knew better. It was the calm before the storm.
“I declined,” I whispered, my voice trembling. I barely had time to process what was happening before his hand lashed out and struck my cheek, hard enough to sting and send me stumbling back a step.
“Are you stupid?!” he yelled, his face contorting with rage. “Do you even understand what you’ve done? You could’ve accepted! Worked for them! Do you have any idea what an opportunity that was? We could’ve torn them apart from the inside out, you stupid child!”
My vision blurred, both from the hit and the words. He didn’t care about me—he never did. He only saw me as a tool, a way to further his ambitions. And for the first time, the weight of it crashed down on me. He would never see me as his daughter. He would never love me for me.
Without thinking, I reached for my phone, my hands trembling. I could feel my dad watching me, his breath heavy, his eyes still full of anger.
I dialed Sam’s number.
“Y/N?” he answered after a couple of rings, his voice filled with concern. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll take the job,” I said, my voice shaking but determined. I swallowed hard, glancing at my father, whose expression turned from shock to cold fury. “I’ll take the job, Sam.”
There was a brief pause on the other end, then Sam’s voice softened. “Alright. We’ll make the arrangements.”
I hung up the phone and put it back in my pocket. My dad’s face twisted, "Good girl."
--
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feeling like. ep 60 was such a fantastic arc finale battle ep. and auugh. like so many things. LIKE .
the slow build up of tension over the ep felt really good and perfect, as it escalates from alexandrite being silly and goofy to. gargantuan cyberflesh horror. and how the dice were UNCANNILY perfect for it all. like. the nat 1 vs nat 20 roll for the town and suddenly the entire mood shifts and the stakes are so much realer, and personal. followed up by the nat 20 for the town! followed up by TWO callie crits and her dealing 130 DAMAGE like each turn!!!! like!!!!! AUGH... the. just the beats of it all was soo good and.
tying to that .. the character moments for this ep were so good !!! every character got their moment to shine in the battle. already discussed callie absolutely whomping fucking ass, but of course the smaller moments as well. offering to go and defend calders town. seeing the faewild sky and "i think i needed to leave to become worthy of it" - like and as the culmination of callies arc. from someone who was so scared and running away to. staying, standing, fighting, protecting. AND ITS GOOD.
then of course theres calder. i mean also the . ARC. of the only thing he wanted was not to be overprotected. wanting to be useful - like his brothers, people who had strength and value in the eyes of their people, big enough to defend their town. and he has come all the way here. he changes the tides of the battlefield in the town - and he does it with the attachments of his friends and the love of his family. and like... god. really crystalising his ethos in a way that is foiled so well against gowan. gowan who was too proud to ask for help. vs "i cant do it without you" "but damn does it feel good when your friends have your back" ... !!!! AYYEARGH. like. hes becoming the protector of his home! but maybe now, his home is so much bigger than the ice knife, and hes not fighting alone .... YOU KNOW.
AND SOL!!!!! sol to my knowledge only deals 30 damage this battle but. as a resident sol enjoyer i !!! am VERY MUCH CLAPPING AND CHEERING!! at the deeply supportive role he took on for this fight. like hes the first to get the ice knife away from alexandrite, he gives callie an extra smite, silvery barbs.... ! like the short rest realisation of how different the battle wouldve gone without that silvery barbs is .... ! SO ITS GOOD. and at the end that he was the one to get the final blow on alexandrite and it was for swag is ...
and! that part was obviously a joke! as is the entire "keep em guessing haha alexandrite cant predict what were doing!!!" thing. HOWEVER. relistening to the ezry arc, and their first interaction w alexandrite as we now know her ... i just. REALLY feel like this is the spiritual successor to "were duck team and were messy and were friends and we do everything together and we absolutely suck shit all day long and all night baby". theyre so fucking stupid is the thing. and theyre messy and stupid and constantly saying things that are weird and make no sense and completely and utterly baffling .... and thats DUCK TEAM!!! (theres also a point here where im overreading somewhat. but the part about Keepin em Guessin... one could POSSIBLY argue it interacts in a MAYBE DEEPLY INTERESTIGN WAY with . the idea of the calculated certainty of the AI, the calm and cold prediction of the diviners, and the wild freedom of the peregrines. idk!!! maybe!!! maybe you cld even say that what lies at the heart of duck team is their messiness and outofplaceness and love and care and refusal of the tragedy!!! even!! maybe!! but YEAH. lol random XD ! keep em guessin!)
also the thing that made me write all this which is like. ! the final victory lap scene is just. so wonderfully cathartic, esp with how tense this entire arc has been. its just. fuck yeah we won and all our friends and family are here and safe and riding on mammoths!!! i mean. FUCKING ALBINS BACK!!!! GREGORS HERE AND KICKIN ASS!!! THE MA GOBLIN BRIGADE!!! A WIN. and ... that bit of callie just sitting on the roof playing a guitar as she stares into the fae wild sky is ... its good.. its good..
and all that is maybe. half the reasons why ep 60 is so good. i didnt even get around to talking about the fucking EMILY AXFORD SONG WHICH IVE BEEN PLAYING NONSTOP ALL DAY SO. yeah. so i like this ep i guess
#naddpod#ba2mia#ba2umia#ramble tag#naddpod spoilers#< im bad at tagging spoilers but this is. ALL spoilers so
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Yellow Light, Blue Light (Male!Reader x Connor DBH)
so, there's barely any connor (dbh) content, so what abt an scenario where connor waits for his boyfriend to come for work and they both live with hank and sumo? i mean like since connor started to feel love he gets so excited when seeing his boyfriend coming back with new things to show him and the three of them + sumo eat dinner together like a family (it sounds so wholesome 😭💞)
Nobody would ever be able to make him admit it, but Hank would've been lonely without Connor around.
So at the terse point where Markus' revolution created a new way of life in Detroit and across the United States, Hank very casually offers that Connor stay with him.
Their relationship often fluctuates confusingly, as Hank sometimes does feel like he takes on a fatherly role to Connor, especially in dealing with emotions now that he's accepted that he's a living being
But then they become more mentor and protegee at times, and then there's the most often state where they're very close friends and the one of the only men robots people Hank currently feels okay with hugging.
Yeah, the bucket of bolts is a hugger and now that Hank can't pretend androids aren't alive anymore he doesn't have the heart to push Connor away when the man hugs him.
It's also a little confusing for Hank because Connor doesn't particularly mind whatever terminology he uses, while other androids with their new autonomy still argue about whether "man/woman" or "human beings" are desirable and acceptable terms or microaggression or outright hate speech in reference to them.
In any case, it comes as a surprise to Hank when things go back to his comfort zone and Connor asks him about very familiar emotions.
It's immediately clear to Hank that Connor is experiencing love for the first time, and when Connor asks if he might need repairs (despite several diagnostics coming up with no problem), Hank practically needs to go to the hospital for a collapsed lung from laughing so hard.
Hank doesn't quite understand what a human-android relationship would entail - he still hasn't had the courage to ask if Connor's like a Ken doll down there, and he doesn't know he really wants to know.
But Connor seems fulfilled, and happy. In his weird analytical Connor way. And it makes Hank happy, in his own grumpy way, that Connor keeps asking him for advice, for help.
Hank isn't really sure how it ended up that Connor's boyfriend started living with them, but honestly he doesn't really mind. It's... nice to have another human in the house, and to feel the house being alive.
And to have someone else to walk Sumo when he feels lazy.
It's also kind of adorable to see Connor on the back foot scrambling around to make food for when his boyfriend gets home from work on their anniversary of moving in together.
"Connor. Con- Con! You don't need to measure the salt out to a grain. Jesus, Connor, don't give me the puppy eyes - I'll back off. Just... calm down a little."
He's a little surprised when he opens the door (Connor's dealing with the food) and you hug him. He's even more surprised that he doesn't mind.
Hank always gets a kick out of seeing just how much Sumo gets excited when Connor's boyfriend gets home - almost as excited as Connor does.
Connor acts all casual about making dinner, letting you unwind and relax and pretending like he wasn't just measuring every ingredient out to the gram.
Hank good-naturedly ribs you both about being so affectionate, playfully accusing you two of practically sitting in each other's laps at the dinner table.
Connor smirks - full on smirks and just says "Well, Hank, since I don't need to eat, shouldn't I have something to do with my hands?" and Hank chokes on his food and laughs and bares his teeth in a grin as he calls Connor a sick little bastard and it's mean words but the intent is fun and you all laugh together.
It's interesting - Hank notices how Connor sometimes acts more 'human', and sometimes doesn't do those mannerisms programmed into him by Cyberlife, like imitating breathing or blinking. It makes Hank a little proud, even more than the uneasiness. It doesn't make him less of a person, just... different.
And seeing you love him anyway. Hell, seeing Connor love you back, clearly and obviously - Hank can't help but smile and needs to listen to some metal in order to get his head back on track.
Besides, Connor's boyfriend is a pretty cool guy - he's helpful even if Connor generally insists on doing the chores because he doesn't need to sleep, and he even likes to introduce things to Hank as well as Connor.
They feel like a family. A weird, silly, neurotic family, but family all the same.
#male reader#dbh connor x male reader#dbh connor x reader#dbh x male reader#dbh x reader#dbh headcanons#headcanons
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please say more about jilypad + diverging parenting styles... perhaps even a possible scenario >:) i imagine harry has very cunning tactics for using this to his advantage
helloooooo <3 thank u for this ask bc i love talking about these three and harry. i went looking thru the archives to find this post; my first foray into this side, and really, i’ve never looked back after that.
so i’ve talked ab this a bit before but i fully think that james was a very overprotective ‘mother hen’ type parent. i tend to read his behaviour in lily’s bday letter to sirius as being scared of his child on a broomstick and i fully, fully think he’ll never be able to let go of that as harry grows up. he’ll be anxious and suspicious and paranoid, and his first instant will always be to wrap harry up in cotton wool and hide him away. (i low-key connect this to his childhood as well; going from being spoiled and sheltered to dropped in the middle of a war, black & white thinking, living in extremes etc etc makes it v hard for him to be Normal about his child. as he shouldn’t be, really, but yeah) that’s why he thrives during the initial years; he never minds the hard parts of being a new parent, loves it in fact, and it makes it better that he can keep harry close to him at all times w/o coming off as a helicopter parent (not that the notion bothers him ofc).
it’s good, then, that he has two partners to even the scales, no? i think lily was the most…balanced out of the three. she had a relatively normal childhood, grew up in a working class family/neighbourhood and had to deal w adversity from a young age so she’s developed a nice, thick skin. she also has a sibling with whom she has a v rocky relationship so she knows that kids are, ykno, a bit unhinged. and a little bit of hardship is not a problem. i hc her as needing time to get used to parenthood, unlike james who stepped into it natural as breathing, or even sirius who loved harry on much on first sight that it made up for everything else. ofc lily loved her son, but it didn’t come w the same blinding intensity of her partners and made her feel really shitty in the beginning. but, i think she’d shine during his teen years actually, because she’s not overbearing or intense and becomes the quiet, calm strength that a hormonal, spotty teen boy would probably need.
and sirius <3 our poor baby falls in love with harry, perhaps even more quickly than james, with such startling speed that it shakes his entire foundation. he doesn’t regret it but he’s constantly discombobulated. i also imagine that…it takes him longer to settle into the role of parent, esp bc he’s not biologically one ykno? not like it matters to anyone, ofc, but it takes him a long time to truly accept his authority and place, to believe that he has just as much right as j&l to be there, to parent harry. this has the consequence of him always being more indulgent than the other two; after all, he considered himself a godfather before a parent and a lot of that thinking stayed. he lets harry get away with stuff the others might not (and the little mf figures this out later); some of it also comes from sirius seeing so much shit, and facing so much shit himself, that he rationalises a lot of stuff as ‘well, this isn’t the worst it can be, so what’s the harm’ (because his life has been such a roller coaster that he’s forgotten that not everyone’s like that, if that makes sense?)
its obviously not this clear cut but i imagine harry looks at it like this: if he needs unconditional love, he goes to james; rationality and logic, lily; acceptance and calm, sirius. when someone has to be beat up for hurting harry, james steps in. if he needs help burying a body, it’s sirius. dealing with some asshole boss/teacher/classmate’s mother who’s making harry’s life hell? lily. i can keep going but,,,u get the idea, right? this makes sense, i hope lol
i actually think harry’s first birthday is a great example. sirius pushes the boundaries by gifting lil harry a broom; james loses his mind running after him; lily places an industrial sticking charm on harry’s butt, leans back with a glass of wine, and enjoys the show. even as he grows up, lily and james act as the disciplinarian, and sirius is the emotional outlet. all of them fill in each other’s cracks so well, and it’s only when harry grows up that he realises how effortlessly they worked off each other to parent him.
also oh man o man. harry being cunning is,,,,,see, i’ve not considered it this far but it makes perfect sense. i think canon harry actually had so much manipulative energy and it’s often overlooked for his goofier traits but! this is the same dude who used his dead parents to trick slughorn into revealing sensitive info! imagine if that could be channelled into his jilypad interactions 😈
it’s like, it takes him a bit, because his three parents r so smooth, but once he realises that all of them have certain weak spots, he does NOT hesitate to exploit them. (it has the unintended consequence of truly strengthening the jilypad relationship into an unbreakable one bc one thing their kid taught them is to have ironclad communication going at all times so nothing they’ve said, or not said, is used against them). so like, he knows if he wants to sneak out to a party, it has to be sirius and in a specific way—‘i’ll be totally safe, papa, plus i really wanna see what it’s like and idk when it’ll get a chance to again’. if he widens his eyes to pitiful levels, pouts a little, and blinks faster than usual, then james is putty in his arms as long as he’s separated from the other two. divide and conquer becomes the main tool in harry’s arsenal, actually. lily’s the toughest nut to crack, purely bc she doesn’t run on emotions or irreverence, but harry soon learns that if he comes up with a solid, logical case that proves his argument has unbiased merit then he has a good chance of getting her to say yes. (this is good, bc u can arrange words in the correct order, but u can’t always control emotions)
so overall yeah, you’d think one kid + 3 parents would be an easy bet, but harry keeps them on their toes all the fkn time.
#sirius black#james potter#lily evans#jilypad#harry potter#i knew before i even started this that it would be ridiculously long lmao#i just cannot bring myself to shut up#wrt lily and harry’s baby years#i feel v v strongly ab motherhood not coming naturally to her#and becoming a very sore point for her. bc she sees james and sirius and she keeps blaming herself for being an unfeeling robot#when she’s not. she just thinks more logically than them and doesn’t feel as strongly. that doesn’t make her a bad mother#and no matter what j & s say a small part of always thinks like that. until the teen years. and suddenly the dynamics r reversed#bruh i think i need help it’s not even funny how not hinged i am for this trio lmao#there also! padfoot!#a while ago i wrote a lil thing. but i fully believe that whenever harry was emotionally distraught he’d actually go to padfoot#bc he needed someone to just. sit. and be there. while he’s processed emotions#and lily would be too ruthlessly logical and james would be fretting and trying to fix it and sirius would panic. just a little.#but padfoot is a warm comforting weight agains this side and he just lets him be. it’s grounding.#so harry always. without fail. does that#it’s actually 3.5 parents lmao#i do wonder what their parenting fights would about if any. hmmmm. my glasses are too rose tinted for me to consider it#a thought for another day#anyway. hope this endless rambling made sense! and that u liked it!#would love to hear ur thoughts too <3#pen’s notes#pen’s asks
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Chapter 15 (Mastermind)—MOTA Fic
A/N: The growth in this chapter is beautiful and I think you'll think so too. Happy Father's Day to those who are celebrating in the US today! As always, let me know what you think :) And have a great day! Next chapter....next chapter has so much tea being spilled and I don't think any of you are prepared haha!
Finding Abe didn’t prove to be all that difficult. She waited as long as she dared, waited in agonizing terror that only a sister could understand. She smoked as she waited, leaned against the combine and hummed out patterns and tunes from old band songs that she had long since thrust from her mind.
Her mind was still locked in a race and it was the damn Kentucky Derby up there. A dead-sprint in the Olympics as she tried to keep herself center. Tried to keep herself cool, calm, and collected. She hadn’t gotten her reputation by being an over-emotional person over the years. That would have just been plain silly.
So when Abe finally came walking out of the Interrogation Room and walking towards the barracks to change, Ruth finally found herself speechless. She prided herself on the ability to consistently know what to say, how to shut people down, how to wake them up. It was just something she had always been good at doing. But seeing Abe standing there and looking like some sort of shell of the happy kid that she had helped raise?
God, it made her sick to her stomach.
“Abe!” Ruth exclaimed, catching up to him quickly.
He flinched at the sound of his name, ears still trying to readjust to the lack of gunfire from the air. And when he turned, blinking at the sight of his sister, Abe wasn’t sure what to say. He had seen so many things.
Three missions in three days. Everyone but their crew dead. People blown out of the skies before they could even reach the ground in their parachutes. Nothing here on the ground felt real in comparison to what Abe had seen up there. Maybe death had caught up to them all and death was the realest part of living, not whatever it was that they were expected to do now that they were back on the ground.
But Abe couldn’t find the words to express any of that. He just stood there, hunched over, gaze locked onto the ground, eyes half-glazed over. His mouth felt as though he had just swallowed a whole bucket of sand.
And Ruth, ever the vigilant older sister. Ever the one who just knew things. She had always been like that, having a sixth sense for what Abe wasn’t telling her. Like the time that he had been the one to burn their father’s shirt with the iron and no one else was fessing up. And Ruth had taken the blame for it, knowing full well that the unusually quiet seven year old was to blame.
Or the time when he had really liked a girl in his class and had kissed her. Ruth had immediately known the minute that she picked him up that he had kissed someone. She always just knew. Maybe it was their bond and the fact that she had helped raise him as much as their mother had. But whatever the case, Ruth always knew things.
This time was no different. “Oh my sweet boy,” Ruth murmured.
All at once, Abe’s resolve and numbness crumpled like a paper boat in the water. He stumbled forward and clutched onto Ruth as though she were a being of pure light and he had been lost in the darkness. Ruth, to her credit, just let the boy cling to her as though he were a child again. Back when he was a kid, he used to have the worst night terrors. He’d be up and screaming as though he were being murdered.
At the time, Ruth had been the one to patiently help him through it. Her mother had been too tired and sick to deal with her youngest child’s overactive imagination. Her father had been working himself to death to provide for the seven Sharpe children and ensure that they all had full bellies, enough clothes for school, and that they were happy.
For Ruth, she had never questioned the role that she had within her family. She was the eldest daughter, she was the one who would hold hands of scared children, clean up cuts and bruises, pick up her brothers when they got a little too drunk, take her younger sisters shopping when they outgrew her old clothes—and she never complained and never asked why for a single second.
“You’re alright, you’re alright,” Ruth murmured into Abe’s ear. Her voice was a grounding force that shattered his illusion of the space in the skies above.
As Abe crashed back into his own body, he suddenly felt very foolish. Ruth had been right; he was just a kid. He didn’t belong here any more than John Wayne belonged in the fashion industry. The breaths that were spilling out of Abe’s lungs came out more like splutters. As though he were drowning in an ocean of panic and pressure.
“Come to my office,” Ruth breathed out quietly. “I’ll make you some tea and we’ll talk there.”
Abe couldn’t even bring himself to murmur out a yes or a no. Words seemed to be too much effort for the boy at the moment. His head just sank in recognition of her words and he let her pull him along. He was numb to the dirt path they were walking, numb to the fact that they entered into one of the buildings, and numb right up until he was sitting in his sister’s office, a steaming cup of tea in hand.
The sudden presence of a hand in his hair made him blink a few times, realizing that Ruth was straightening up the mess of waves that had appeared from the sweat and adrenaline of being up in the air. As if a cat, Abe relaxed under her touch and his shoulders sank deeper into the chair.
“Thanks,” Abe mumbled out quietly.
“You don’t have to—”
“I was stupid,” Abe sniffled the words out. “I should have just listened and waited. I’m stuck here now.”
Ruth couldn’t deny that his words rang true like a church bell on Christmas Day. “Yes, you are,” Ruth said quietly. “Harding wants to send your crew to the Flak-House.”
Abe’s head shot up. “What the hell is a Flak-House?”
“A place to recuperate. A place to relax and refocus. You’ve been through a lot in the past few days,” Ruth replied evenly. “I think it would be good for you too.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“Well I am,” Ruth insisted. “And have I ever been wrong?”
“Well no, but—”
“Exactly,” Ruth gave a firm smile in her brother’s direction. “I’ll be coming along as well, seeing as how I’m receiving some other information about a case there.”
Abe’s hands clenched tightly around the cup in his hand. “You don’t need to babysit me. I don’t need—”
“I’m not babysitting,” Ruth retorted. “I’m your older sister and I don’t know if it’s clear yet, but whether you need me or not isn’t the question. It’s my responsibility to watch out for you and care for you, even if you don’t want or need me to. It’s just what I want to do. It’s who I am.”
“Isn’t that exhausting?”
Ruth just let out a sigh. “I’ve never been exhausted watching out for you. Sarah and Alice? Maybe. But never you. I’m gonna be here for you, whether you like it or not. Deal with it.”
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It was late afternoon when Ruth loaded up the car with Rosie’s crew and began the drive to the Flak-House. Given the fact that she was the only one who knew where it was, it came as no surprise that they were allowing her to drive. Truth be told, Ruth wondered if Harding wanted her out of the way for a few days—especially because she had warned against doing so many missions so close to one another.
It had to come as salt in the wound that only a singular plane had made it back intact. It had entirely crippled the Hundredth and until they got more recruits and pilots, they wouldn’t be doing much of anything. There was also the fact that the effective leaders of the Hundredth were gone, and that had left a power vacuum that Ruth was certain would be filled soon enough.
She hated to admit it, she really did—but Robby Rosenthal was a damn good pilot. He had the natural air of a leader and charisma to match genuine faith and belief. And yes, he had an attitude that dug under her skin at times like a damn tick burrowing to create sickness. But the fact of the matter was that he was genuine and humble and people would look up to him for that. They always had, when they were younger.
“They’ve got horses!” One of the men in the back piped up, eyes going wide.
Ruth nearly snorted. “They’ve got the full English experience here. Croquet, tea, British opera.”
“You ride horses, Rosie?” The man questioned, looking up into the passenger seat where Rosie sat.
“Jews from Brooklyn don’t ride horses,” Rosie retorted. “And they usually don’t drive,” he added, glancing over at Ruth.
Ruth just rolled her eyes. “Well it’s not exactly Brooklyn here. I had to learn how to drive at some point.”
Abe poked his head into the front, eyes wide. “So that means you’re going to teach me, right?”
“Absolutely not,” Ruth answered, shaking her head at him. “When are you gonna need to know how to drive?”
“You did.”
“I moved to England, dumbass,” Ruth pointed up ahead at the sprawling manor that appeared in their vision. “And that there is Coombe House. Otherwise known as the Flak-House.”
Once inside, Ruth helped Abe get unpacked and into one of the rooms. She left him secure with a book while the group waited for dinner to be finished. Crossing down the hall towards her own room, Ruth passed a series of rooms on her way there. Just as she was passing by one of the rooms, she realized that Robby was slowly unpacking, unable to actually just set his stuff down.
She had no sooner passed by the room that a modicum of guilt passed through her chest. She hadn’t even thanked him for bringing Abe back in one piece. Robby had gone out of his way to help her and Abe, risking a lot for himself in order to do so. And he had done so without argument or complaint.
The least she could do was thank him, right?
Ruth let out a sigh, taking a few steps backwards and lingering in the doorway for a moment. She couldn’t bring herself to actually go into his room, for that seemed to be a little too personal. For a moment, it was all she could do to just watch him set his bag down and stare at the walls.
Robby had always seemed so indomitable to her. Sure, she didn’t like him a good half of the time and thought that he was a severe annoyance. But he was still a piece of home right in front of her. And at one point in their lives, they had actually been friends.
“You don’t want to be here,” Ruth said quietly in the doorway.
To his credit, Robby didn’t jump, though he was certainly spooked by her sudden appearance. “Well no shit, Ruthie,” he just scowled at her in the doorway.
Ruth wasn’t taken aback by the response. Instead, she just swallowed down a retort and looked at him with genuine care in her eyes. “I’m not here to argue with you, shockingly enough.”
“You’re not here to boss me around some more, are you?” Robby asked in a weary tone.
She took a step into the room and it all felt so very wrong. So very wrong and so very right at the same time. As though her feet were now weighed down by a thousand tons of quicksand and she could not leave without saying her piece. Could not leave without letting him know what it meant to her.
“No,” Ruth said quietly. “I just uh—I wanted to thank you. For bringing Abe back in one piece. For taking care of him out there. It uh—” Ruth sucked in a breath. “It means a lot to me.”
For a moment, Robby just stared at her, mouth slightly ajar. He looked as though he were some fish out of water, gasping for air. “I uh—you don’t have to thank me. He’s a good kid.”
“Yeah he is,” Ruth agreed. “But he wouldn’t be here without you, so…” She trailed off and then did something that utterly shocked the both of them. She moved forward and for half a second, he was entirely certain she was going to punch or slap him.
But when her arms locked around him in the quickest hug of his life, Robert Rosenthal couldn’t even move. He was frozen in place at the gesture, eyes locked onto her. “Ruth—”
She broke away before he could finish his sentence. “Let’s not make a thing out of this,” Ruth said dryly. “And I’ll deny I ever hugged you, for the record. Dinner’s in fifteen, by the way. Don’t be late.” With that, Ruth retreated from the room and left Robert Rosenthal standing there totally and completely speechless.
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Dinner was an odd amalgamation of solemnity and humor from the group of others that were there. Abe kept a careful smile painted on his face as they ate and Ruth watched the entire thing rather quietly. The way that Rosie didn’t interact with the other men in the crew. The way Pappy could only focus on eating at the moment. All of them were silently suffering.
Ruth wondered if this is why she had been sent here. Because she saw things through a lens, not half-full and not half-empty either. She just saw things as they were. It was a simple enough outlook on things and she wasn’t afraid to be bold in her honesty.
The only thing that she was particularly concerned enough about was the timing of it all. For one thing, she didn’t know the men in Abe and Rosie’s plane. She didn’t know them well enough to use her regular tactics of inspiration. But on the other hand, she did know her brother and Robby well enough to employ those tactics. And maybe if she could get through to the two of them first, the rest would follow. She figured she would give it a day, give it the space that it needed in order to actually work through things.
That first night though? Abe had come to her door, fists so tightly clenched that she thought his wrists might just dislocated from the rest of his arms. He stood there, teeth grit and almost gnashing against one another as the stormy gaze in his eyes finally met hers.
Ruth didn’t need to ask if it was bad dreams or memories. That would have been a rhetorical question. She knew full well that many of the men that went up into the skies would forevermore be haunted by the war that they waged up there. That the skies held danger and death and no promise of real freedom.
“Come on, then,” Ruth murmured. “I’ll read you Mama’s latest letter.”
Abe shuffled into the room, standing at the foot of the bed for a moment. Ruth returned to her place in bed, lamp still on as she sat down. She patted the empty space beside her, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to join her. He lingered for a moment before sinking onto the bed beside Ruth.
And for just a shining moment, he could pretend that they were back in Brooklyn. That this was just Ruth’s room or dorm and he had come to visit her. He could pretend like he was just a little kid waiting to have a story read to him. But this was not that.
“Dear Ruth,” Ruth began, eyes falling on the letter in front of her. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but last week I received an old letter from one of my sisters. It appears that she may have made it to safety somewhere, but the letter is outdated. Perhaps if I forward the letter to you, you can look into it and see if you can find her and her family?”
Abe glanced over at his sister. “Do you think anyone made it?”
“I’m not sure,” Ruth said quietly. “If it’s an old letter, there’s a chance that they could already be dead or gone. But at least mama had that.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Abe mumbled.
Ruth sucked in a breath and continued reading. “It seems that both Jonah and John are doing well in their respective areas. There continues to be no word about Abe though and that worries both Mary and I. I should’ve boxed that boy’s ears more.”
Abe nearly chuckled at that. “That wouldn't have stopped me.”
“No, I don’t think it would. It didn’t stop me,” Ruth added with a slight grin. And so on she read, well into the night. And when she finally finished reading the letter, she glanced beside her to find that Abe was lightly snoring and finally asleep. Ruth just let a sad smile slip onto her features as she pulled the blanket up over him and began her prayers.
Please….please just protect him through this.
#mota fanfic#mota#masters of the air fanfic#masters of the air#mastersoftheair#oc originalfemalecharacters#rosie rosenthal#robert rosenthal x oc#rosie rosenthal x oc#ruth sharpe#rosie x ruth#abe sharpe
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Hi,
This question is about Napoleon’s relationship with his stepson. It’s widely known that they had a good relationship and he referred to Eugene as my son while Eugene referred to him formally. Do u think there relationship was truly as good as people say?
Hi and thanks for the Ask! In short: I mostly think that, as with all things, their relationship gets more complicated the closer you look at it. When it comes to Napoleon, it's hard to separate private and political aspects, so Napoleon's personal feelings for Eugène may often have taken a back seat to political considerations.
First of all: When Napoleon adresses Eugène as "mon fils" in his letters, that is very much a formality. Charles von Baden, husband of Napoleon's adopted daughter Stéphanie de Beauharnais, is adressed the same way. Just to put things in perspective.
Of course that does not mean that Napoleon's relationship to Eugène cannot have been close. On the contrary. I keep thinking that what Napoleon had with Eugène was the closest thing to a real father-son-relationship he ever experienced, as the King of Rome was still a toddler when he saw him last, and as he barely had spent any time with him. However, father-son-relationships tend to have their ups and downs, especially when the son grows up and starts to get into his own 😊.
In Eugène's case, the "son" also became a political problem.
At the beginning, during the Consulate, I think the two well-mannered, polite and affable Beauharnais children were a great asset for Napoleon in Paris society. Eugène in particular was well-liked and had a reputation for being good-natured, personally brave, chivalrous, humble and without pretentions. The problems started with the Empire (or already with the Consulate for life), when the question of an heir grew increasingly important. Because with Eugène having played the role of Napoleon's son over several years, it's quite natural that many saw him as a potential heir (in the first place his mother, of course).
I do not know that this had ever been Napoleon's intention. I think he liked Eugène precisely because Eugène was only interested in his military career and had no political ambitions. The bigger Eugène's personal reputation got over the years, due to the fact that he administered Italy rather well, that he had the advantage of being married to a royal princess, that he gathered some prestige in the army etc., the more he became a problem, and the more potential for tensions with an increasingly irritable and suspicious stepfather.
Eugène of course was a very different character than Napoleon, and while he seems to have been truly in awe of his stepfather, he also had his own ideas about how to deal with problems (like, shooting bishops etc - not his kind of thing). He was an outwardly calm, stoic, even boring person, had a very different style of leading than Napoleon, was usually very friendly with his subordinates (there's only one scenario that I could think of where he really took offence and offended someone after an argument had escalated, and that's during the 1812 campaign), encouraged them rather than scolded them, was very willing to discuss problems and to change his mind when he felt somebody had better ideas, etc. - The way he himself was treated by Napoleon was, obviously, quite different and caused him quite some grief (there's an interesting letter from Duroc about this from 1805 that I would love to translate eventually). But this fate he shared with all of Napoleon's family and plenty of his magistrates.
As to specific disagreements: Napoleon had - more or less - promised to Eugène's wife that Eugène would eventually become king of (northern) Italy. And he did not want to keep that promise, especially after he had given Josephine the boot. On the other hand, he could not do without Eugène (or Hortense, for that matter) in his Empire, Eugène was the administrative hub not only for northern Italy but for the Italian peninsula as a whole and as far as the Illyrian provinces. Lots of tension there, especially as Auguste felt that her husband was treated unfairly - he had always done his duty, with much better results than plenty of others, and he was getting no reward for it.
There was much more tension during the final two years of the empire, especially after the Russian campaign. This campaign had greatly increased Eugène's military reputation. When Murat left the rests of the army in January 1813, Eugène had to take over command, something he considered an awful burden from the very beginning. He was showered with letters, orders, advice and (mostly) reprimands from his stepfather who sat in warm and cuddly Paris, and was unnerved by it to the point where he offered his resignation. Factually, Eugène managed to hold out in a very difficult situation, starting with barely 10,000 scared and discouraged men in a foreign country that turned increasingly hostile, and all he received for it was lecture after lecture. He must have been incredibly frustrated by it because we know he opened up to it on his journey home to his brother-in-law Ludwig, when he was finally allowed to return to his family in Milan - only to immediately raise a new army and try to fight the Austrians.
At this point, like most people in France, Eugène wanted, and expected, Napoleon to make peace with the allies. Peace at all costs. It was the only responsible thing to do. Yet Napoleon didn't. I think this also greatly contributed to Eugène's growing frustration with his stepfather.
Which brings us to Marmont and his accusations that Eugène had betrayed Napoleon in 1813. While i do think that Marmont has been misled and that the incident has been blown way out of proportion, it is true that Eugène refused to lead his army corps from Italy to France as Napoleon had ordered. He did so for good reasons because Napoleon's idea was pretty much rubbish in the first place, but fact is he did disobey a clear order, and he of course, even if he may not have admitted it to himself, had his eyes on the crown of Italy. But he wanted to receive it in the proper way, without openly betraying Napoleon: Wait until there is peace one way or another, then let's see. So he waited until Napoleon's abdication, then sent the French army home to France, then asked the Italian senat to put him on the throne. Which caused bloody uprisings in Milan, and Eugène had to flee the country.
That being said: Robert Wilson writes in his diary that Eugène cried when he received a letter by Hortense relating Napoleon's abdication. So, I guess all the political disputes had not killed the personal affection.
Eugène also will be the one trying to contact Napoleon on Elba, he seems to have contacted him from Vienna during the congress, he seems to have tried to contact him before Napoleon was sent to Saint Helena. Eugène will be the one sending money to Saint Helena, he will be the one publicly protesting to the monarchs against the way Napoleon was treated on that island. He did act like a son towards him until the end.
As to Napoleon: I'm not sure what he really thought about him. I don't think he could respect somebody who did not have the ambition and ruthlessness he himself was so proud to possess. (Obviously, I feel exactly the opposite 😋.)
Summing up: No, it was not always a rosy relationship but it was in fact a father-son-relationship.
Sorry for the long rambling, and thanks once more for the question!
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What’s your opinion on the newest chapter bc that ending caught me tf off guard (if ykyk)
I love this chapter it’s so cool! I like that Mitsuba is helping Kou, and that Hanako the leader of the ghosts, was scared of the middle schooler’s haunted house. I also appreciate that everyone was together instead of the usual mitsukou/hananene split up. (They did split up by the end of the chapter again...but I’ll take what I can get.)
This part was nice too.
I wasn’t expecting it, but it makes sense Mitsuba wants to push Kou to be with Nene considering this is his mentality recently.
MY AWFUL TRIO IS HERE TOO!
Aoi has a herbs tea stand! LOOK AT HER! I forgot there are more people in the gardening club besides her uiyguyg
AND AKANE USED A HEART IN HIS SPEECH BUBBLE?? This boy really is down bad, he gets rejected when he already knows Aoi likes him back but he keep looking at the bright side (he is so genuinely happy thinking about how cute she is when she’s shy. He is adorable.)
He cried a river when he was rejected what a loser, and Aoi is so blushy when she turns him down, she looks almost troubled?? Is she angry she can’t bring herself to agree? Is she troubled she already agreed to go with Teru? Idk but she is adorable. They are so stupid, they make my heart melt.
SPEAKING OF TERU, I love how he happily (threatened) invited Aoi on a date while confident Akane will be there. My bars are very low I am absolutely counting this as a terukaneaoi date LET’S GOO
Love how Aoi is scared and nervous but the idea Akane will be there too calm her down. She had fun the last time they hung out as a trio so I am excited!
(I won’t be surprised if the broadcasting club scheming makes it so they end up not having this tour, but my disappointment will be immeasurable.)
Teru was amazing this chapter on his own too, look at this bastard. He got an ego.
Not that I can blame him, any 17 year old would reach this conclusion when their class consistently worship him as a prince and made A WHOLE SUCCESSFUL VENUE?? WITH MERCHANDISE TOO?? HELP?? He is so chill about it “oh I was surprised when they suggested” BUT NO PROTESTS? Akane is right, he is a shameless guy.
(I wonder if Teru gets money out of it...? Since they are selling his image/’brand’. I hope he does. Can you imagine Teru telling his dad “oh yeah, half of my fortune comes from exorcism, half comes from my venue.” )
And hey, Tiara and kunishide are here! That’s nice, love to see them again! :D
You know who else is here? Sousuke’s mom! THE QUEEN IS HERE! LET HER THROUGH!!! I DID NOT EXPECT TO EVER SEE HER AGAIN, MY BELOVED!
I’m interested in how Mitsuba will deal with a ‘mom’ he never had. He no longer seems obsessed with Sousuke, the manga itself treats Sousuke as a thing of the past (Kou even fully accepted his death in chapter 74) so her presence is BIG.
I wonder if the mom will be able to see Mitsuba, and bring more info on Sousuke, or explore both her and Mitsuba’s characters. Mitsuba does feel like he has no ‘family’ after all. And Sousuke’s mom, who lost her son and husband, also has no family, but unlike Mitsuba, she used to have. Add in Mitsuba’s relationship with his own identity and I am definitively intrigued by what her role in this arc will be.
The ending caught me off guard too, I thought the broadcasting club wanted to control time not destroy it, even if it does make sense, considering their end goal is every yorishiro's destruction.
And this part made me realize we never saw Natsuhiko bleed before, and it explains how he consistently gets out of dangerous or tricky situations that while not deadly for an immortal would have been very hard to escape if his power was merely 'durability'.
He can’t lose, even a supernatural’s ‘victory’ where he gets eaten will result in them being corroded from the inside out. Since Natsuhiko can’t die, blood loss isn’t a problem either, he is a neverending poison machine. Love that for him.
#tbhk#tbhk 104#jshk#jibaku shonen hanako kun#toilet bound hanako kun#honestly i am just happy we got some teru akane and aoi focus.
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🖤💜Protecting (Charlotte Katakuri x Female!Reader) Pt. 2💜🖤
💚 = Lime/Lil Spicy
💛 = Lemon
💙 = Sad
❤️ = Angsty (won't do many of these unless prompted)
💜 = Fluff
💔 = Heartbreak (rare unless prompted)
🖤 = Normal
I KNOW it's been at least 2 months since I posted the first part of this, but here it is!~ I love Katakuri sooo much, if you couldn't tell, and I just kept writing, so this turned into a 3 parter!~ But BEFORE you curse my existence and get your Mogura, I already have it done!~ Literally fully completed, I just have to post it after this one.~ And I decided that your reward for waiting so long for this series was some ✨spicy✨ times.~ So expect that in part 3.~ Also, I'm so shocked at the amount of likes I got on the first part??~ Almost 70 likes??~ You guys are too much.~ Hope you like it!~ Mwah mwah, darlings!~
Part 1 <- - Part 2 - -> Part 3
Dread set in as everyone realized the untimely situation. We still had to deal with Bege and the Strawhats, and the last thing we needed was a raging Big Mom. I felt Katakuri's grip tighten on me as I let my emotions drift into him. I was scared and tired, wanting nothing more than to stay in my husband's strong and safe arms. Perospero stood there, thinking of a plan, and when his gaze landed on me, he perked up. He seemed reluctant to ask me due to Katakuri's possessive hold on me, but when our eyes met I had an idea of what he wanted from me. This was part of my job in the family, to help Mama calm down during her hunger pangs even if it was dangerous.
"Ah, Y/N? I'm sorry to ask this of you after the kind of day you've had, but", a nervous glance to Katakuri whose intense gaze slid to him the moment he addressed me, "would you help me out in calming Mama down? I have an idea that might work, but she seems a bit angrier than usual this time around, lick." Perospero's confidence dwindled the longer he stood under Katakuri's piercing gaze until I lifted my hand to lay it on my husband's shoulder. He focused on my soft face and quietly huffed before kneeling down to gently place me on my feet. Before he could make any threats, I snuck a quick peck on his nose, and grabbed Perospero's hand to run off.
"Kekeke, quite the little minx you've become with our brother.~" He glances back. "He's become a lickity blushing mess.~ I can tell even if he pulls up his scarf.~" A large wail followed by a nearby building being crushed brought us back to the grim reality of our task. Perospero put up a candy wall to keep us from being crushed as he explained his plan.
"We have three major problems right now and Mama is one of them. Katakuri is going to ambush the Strawhats on their ship while some of our brothers and sisters go after Bege. I want to get rid of Strawhat first and foremost, so let's set Mama's sights on him by telling her he has her wedding cake. This will give us a little time to figure out how to make the cake, though. . .", he trails off and tugs at his collar, "you know how Mama is with people who lie to her. Even if it's one of us. So, if this doesn't work out, you and I will be killed by Mama if that cake isn't made in time." That fact made me nervous, but Perospero looked even more scared than I felt. Mama liked me well enough, but I know she wouldn't think twice about killing me since I've seen her kill some of her own children before. As much as I loved Katakuri, that was something I hated about his mother. My gaze drops down to the mochi bracelet around my wrist, focusing on the emotions of my love.
Worry. Simmering anger. Determination. Resolve. I had to be steadfast like Katakuri and play my part in keeping everyone safe. I felt like I had the same responsibility as Katakuri, taking on the role of a protective big sister since I was his wife. I could see my antennae change to a deep red. My desire to succeed was rooted in my love for Katakuri. With a shake of my head, I straightened up and threw my lollipop to the ground before going around Perospero's candy shield to march towards the rampaging Yonko. A frantic scream sounded from the brother behind me as he ran up to my side and put on a wide smile with me as he called out to Mama.
We both shook as he convinced her with words while I coaxed her with a little emotion and thought nudging. Despite being such a feared pirate, Big Mom’s mind was easy to influence, like a child’s, which matched some of her behavior at times. The feeling of everyone watching us with bated breaths, and the direct tap of Katakuri's own worry made this all the more pressuring. The two of us just about fainted at her terrifying aura, purple taking over my previous red, as she promised to take our lives if we were lying before leaping onto Zeus and racing off towards the seducing wood. Not a moment after she was out of sight did Perospero and I share a glance before wailing out in fear. He fell to his knees on the ground, and I was heading to follow suit if Katakuri hadn't swooped in to pick me up off my feet again. I felt even more drained than before, but the love and comfort coming from my beloved husband and the few head caresses he was willing to give me in public made everything worth it. I trusted him to help me make sure everything worked out.
As Perospero fell further into despair about our current situation, a familiar voice from above called out to us. Peeking over my husband's shoulder until he turned around, I saw Pudding on her magic carpet.
"I'll make Mama's cake!" She proclaimed, and Perospero just about cried tears of joy at those four words. As she explained her plan of recruiting Chiffon to help her remake Mama's cake on Cacao Island, I knew the little time I had with Katakuri was coming to an end. Soon, he would be locked in a heated battle with Strawhat Luffy. Staring up at my husband's serious face as he listened to Pudding and everyone else, I took to admiring every perfect line and curve of his face that I could see. After so many years, I didn't even need to see the rest of his face to visualize it under his scarf. The tips of my antennae drooped into my vision, and I could see them lit up with a dark pink. With a small, embarrassed jolt, I covered the exposing appendages with my hands as the conversation came to an end.
I could hear and feel my husband’s amused chuckle at my embarrassment, making me flush further. This brought my attention to the tattling bracelet around my wrist, making me contemplate its importance right now. My emotions were all over the place and have already distracted him enough today. With pursed lips, I tugged at the mochi bracelet around my wrist. In an instant, Katakuri's full attention was on me, and his hand was preventing my own from completing its task.
"What are you doing?" He asks in a low voice, ignoring the gazes of his younger siblings around us. To everyone else, he sounded angry, but I felt he was just apprehensive and confused. I smiled and lifted his gloved hand to my lips for a soft kiss to his knuckles, which elicited a few 'aww's, before continuing to move the bracelet to my hair as a hair tie, which he allowed this time.
"I've worried you enough today, dear. You're about to enter a big fight, and I don't want to trouble you anymore. It's close enough to still feel my presence, but not my emotions unless you wish. You can focus on it for strength, if you need to. I'm sure I'm worrying over nothing again, but I'd rather be safe than sorry." With a soft smile and a peck to his cheek, I pat his muscled arm to be let down. Through my touch I could feel his unease and dissatisfaction at my words, but other than that, the only indication that my actions had bothered him was another crease in between his ever furrowed eyebrows. I knew he didn’t like this plan. He knew I didn’t like this plan either. But it was a necessary precaution, one taken to further ensure victory and protect the family. We held each other’s challenging gazes for a few bated breaths until Katakuri relented. He uncrosses his arms a bit, but before he could bend over to let me down closer to the ground, I slipped through the given gap, landed briefly on the spike band sticking out from his left knee and hopped to the ground.
"I'll stay here with Mont d'Or and Pekoms to stay out of you guys’ way. I'm sure they can protect me if something happens, right, boys?" I smile wide and hook my arms through one of each of theirs, causing them to puff out their chests and proudly agree.
"You guys just do your best, as always!" The dark pink of my antennae shifted to a burnt orange to show my low tempo joy and determination. Even though my bones ached with exhaustion, I took a deep breath and started to radiate feelings of rejuvenation and conviction for everyone as a boost. After I did so for a minute, I let my arm slip from Mont d'Or so I could subtly lean more into Pekoms' soft fur, who easily held me steady. As I lifted my heavy eyes, I could see Katakuri observing me closely before closing his eyes and turning away. Nothing got past him.
"That's enough time wasted here. Get a move on to the positions you've been assigned. Every second lost is a lesser chance of victory, but we will win." Everyone, invigorated by my powers and inspired by Katakuri's brief speech, gave out a battle cry and ran off to do as they were told. As everyone dispersed, Pekoms wrapped an arm around my waist, and helped me follow Mont d'Or and Tamago to where they'd be working from.
As I sat down and continued to rest against Pekoms, I thought about what happened earlier with that odd forcefield when I was about to be crushed. It had to have come from me since I felt the energy output of it, but I've never done that before. Maybe this was the awakening that Katakuri has been trying to draw out of me all this time, and it only just came out then because I was in real danger for the first time in my life. Of course, I've been in danger before, but ever since I married Katakuri, I've felt comfortably confident in my safety. I'd have to look into this development later.
With everything happening I didn't know when I'd be able to rest again, so I was going to take the opportunity while I had it. My gloves were starting to make my anxious hands sweaty, so I tugged them off and stuffed them into a pocket on my dress. A yawn escaped me as I snuggled more into Pekoms’ side and fell into a dreamless sleep.
<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆
Unsure of how long I'd been asleep for, I woke up with a start to the sound of someone crying. I sat up from the piece of sponge cake I had been settled on during my nap to look around for the culprit. It was Pekoms, and he seemed truly upset by something. The sight of one of my friends crying like that woke me up quickly. With a frown and dark blue antennae, I stood up and rushed over to the sobbing lion to comfort him. Once he realized it was me, he instantly dropped to his knees to envelope me in a tight hug. Before I could even open my mouth to ask what the matter was, he beat me to it.
"My brother! He's gone! How could this happen?! Gyah! Big bro Pedro!" My arms wrapped around his fluffy afro as I cooed at him in consolation. Without my gloves on, I could feel the full force of Pekoms' sorrow, and it cut deeply through me in my groggy state. Fat tears, the same as his, rolled down my cheeks until I managed to control the reception of emotions, yet it still left me sniffling and letting out a few tears. Normally, I'd try to calm the person down and make them calmer, but this was a hurt that needed to be let out naturally. It felt wrong to subdue the grief he felt for, what seemed like, the death of a very close person in his life. I looked over to the chicken form of Tamago, eyes still watery.
"Tamago-san, what happened?" My voice shook as I spoke, not able to completely dismiss my self-inflicted sadness. The teacup wearing man tutted as he walked towards me, using a wing to wipe my face of tears.
"Ah, do not cry-amour, tears do not suit your face, bon. Unfortunately, Pekoms' brother, Pedro, died aiding the Strawhats' escape from the island. He blew himself up to free their ship of Perospero-sama's candy, bon. From what I heard he took part of Perospero-sama's arm with him. " My breath hitched in horror at the information and loss from both sides as Pekoms cried even harder upon hearing the news again. Enemy or not, losing someone close to you is always hard. Not to mention Perospero’s loss as well.
"Shut up already! He was our enemy! He knew the risks of helping those Strawhats fight a Yonko’s crew! And what about Perospero?! Half his arm is gone!" I snapped my head towards Mont d'Or with a tear-stained glare and dark purple antennae for his insensitive comment which had him shying behind the giant book he held. I understood that he was an enemy, but that didn’t negate the fact that Pekoms knew and cared for him. Nothing was black and white in this world, especially family. Fortunately, Tamago was partially on our side, and engaged Mont d'Or's complaint. Not wanting my irritation to upset Pekoms any further, I took a few deep breaths, cleared my mind and continued to hug his head to my shoulder. Slowly, the deep purple faded back into a light blue.
"I'm so sorry, Pekoms. I understand what it's like to lose someone so close to you. If you need anything, I'll help you in any way I can." He didn't say anything, but nodded a little against my shoulder. I stood there silently after my condolences, tuning out Tamago and Mont d'Or's continued argument in favor of comforting Pekoms to the best of my abilities.
After a while, his sobs waned to sniffles, and from there he finally loosened his hold on me and leaned back to look at me. My exposed shoulder was drenched from tears, but I paid that no mind as I lifted his glasses and wiped the tears from his black, beady eyes. I offered a sad smile.
"Sorry for cry-" Before he could even think of finishing that sentence, I shushed him with a finger.
"You have nothing to be sorry about. What happened was horrible. Even if he was technically an enemy", a swift, bombastic side eye to Mont d'Or, who cowered again under my returned scolding gaze, "he was still your brother. I'm sure he still saw you as his brother even if you two had different ideals and paths in life." My speech earned an appreciative smile from Pekoms as he nodded and stood up. He took on a thoughtful look as he stared out towards the Seducing Forest. I just stayed next to him, thinking over all the events of the day.
"Y/N? Would you like to come with me to, uh, look around for any more injured people?" Pekoms’ somber and rough voice roused me from my thoughts yet again. That was an odd and random request, but I suppose he just needed something to do and focus on to distract himself. I was still a little tired, but I didn’t want to leave Pekoms alone.
"Of course, we need to find some first aid kits first, though." With an absent nod from him, I told the other two where we were off to, and Pekoms led me into the ruined city. The river of cream that had flowed freely earlier was now just a sludge that thickly coated the ground. Even though I was already a mess, I still held up the edge of my dress to prevent any further damage.
We stop by the abandoned hospital for two first aid kits before setting off back through the city in silence. I had tripped a few too many times over debris and thick cream puddles, prompting Pekoms to grab hold of my bare hand. I tried not to focus on his swirling emotions out of courtesy, but I could tell easily that the most prominent one was uncertainty. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Pekoms stopped in his tracks and spoke up again.
"Y/N, what would you do if you knew someone was going to betray the family?" Stopping at both his halt and question, it took me a moment to understand why he would ask it. My e/c eyes stared at his triangular sunglasses, feeling out his emotions more deeply as I did. I felt his anguish, guilt, nervousness yet a flaring storm of conviction was starting to overshadow the aforementioned uncertainty. It was clear what he wanted to do, and I was in no position to talk him out of it.
This is where I had to choose between my morality and true loyalty to Big Mom. Pedro was his family before we were, and I couldn’t ask him not to fight for the people that his brother died to protect. All the Strawhats wanted was their crew member back, a crew member that we took from them. All in all, I swore my loyalty and life to Katakuri, not Big Mom, and I knew he would understand any decision I made.
"I think that each person has their own values that they must hold steadfast to in any circumstance. Even if they conflict with other parts of our lives. Something you must ask yourself, though, is if you're willing to put your life on the line for those values and face any consequences that come with them." A beat of silence passed between us as I let my words soak in. I stepped towards Pekoms and wrapped my arms around him tightly, and he reciprocated. The warmth of his fur tickled a smile onto my face, lighting up my antennae yellow.
"I'll always think of you as my family, Pekoms, even if you leave us. Besides," I look up at him and give him a little wink, "believe it or not, Katakuri and I don't always tell the family everything if it doesn't affect them." Pekoms' lip quivered for a few seconds before starting up a new fountain of tears while hugging me even tighter.
"Gyah! I knew you were my favorite for a reason, Y/N! Thank you so much!" I wheezed out a laugh, happily squeezing him back as my yellow shifted into a peachy orange. This felt like the right decision.
Once Pekoms calmed down, we made our way to the ruined chateau once again. No one but the more prominent siblings in the family knew this, but Brulee had a mirror in her room in the chateau that she always keeps open. Whenever she was in the Mirro-World, anyone could access it through that mirror without her being present. It was useful for when we had meetings there, though we still needed Brulee to leave out of a different mirror.
It was tough figuring out where her room was now that the whole building was ruined and skewered on the city's tallest buildings, but after an hour of searching, we figured it out and stood before the mirror. Miraculously, it wasn't cracked, but we did have to sit it back up for us to enter. Pekoms abandoned his first aid kit, on the checkered floor but I kept mine in case we came across someone who was injured. The only news we've heard so far has been a report of the Straw Hat's ship sinking and the defeat of Germa 66, so I wanted to be prepared. Pekoms lost a bit of his drive at those disheartening reports, but refused to give up just yet. Before I could wander off, Pekoms stopped me with a paw to my shoulder.
"Listen, Y/N. I know you said you wouldn't tell anyone about me, uh, following my values, but I also don't want you to be labeled as a traitor because of me. I know you love Katakuri, and I want you two to be happy. That being said, if push comes to shove, I don't want you to associate with anything I do from here on out. I'll even act like I took you hostage if I need to! Gyah!" He clenched his fist in front of him as he declared this, making me smile and pat his arm.
"Don't worry, Pekoms, I'll be fine. I promise." Looking around, the winding and twisting walkways of the Mirro-World had me a bit lost. I had only been through here with a guide that knew where they were going. Luckily, Pekoms seemed to know what he was doing as he turned around to face the large mirror we just came through.
"Hey mirror, who all is in the Mirro-World?" The mirror, to my surprise, answered.
"Brulee, Katakuri, Flampe and a man in a straw hat are currently here!" I perked up upon hearing that Katakuri was still here with Strawhat Luffy. It's been a couple of hours since we heard the reports of the sunken Straw Hat's ship and Germa 66's defeat on Pekoms' transponder snail. Though, now it seemed that Strawhat was living up to his bounty and more. I was tempted to touch the bracelet in my hair but refrained. If Luffy was holding his own against my unrivaled husband, then it must require focus. I couldn’t let my own selfish whims worry him again.
“Pekoms, what were you planning on doing here? Although Strawhat has held out for this long, he seems to be struggling against Kata, and if he loses, anything you do could be for naught.” Even with his sunglasses on, I could tell that Pekoms was worried as he thought out his first course of action. It was hard for me to believe that Katakuri would lose, so the most the mink could do was aid in Strawhat Luffy’s escape when the time came. Before Pekoms could think up a plan of anything, his transponder snail woke and started a ruckus.
“Strawhat Luffy is in Chips Town!”
“No, he’s in Chockfull Town!”
“Green Town!”
Island after island gave reports of sightings of Strawhat Luffy appearing all over Tottoland. The fact that he was running around so many islands meant that he had Brulee, for the second time to my understanding, and was running from his fight with Katakuri. Pekoms seemed relieved to even hear that he was alive and kicking even if he was running for his life. To me, this news meant that Katakuri was stuck here in the Mirro-world just like us until Brulee was freed.
Just thinking about him spiked the craving of my husband’s feelings thrumming through my body. I had gotten so used to knowing the inner workings of his heart that I felt half empty without them. Without him, my nerves felt too open and vulnerable, so I shakily took out my gloves from my pocket and tugged them on. The anxiousness dimmed my bright antennae. Pekoms started to cheer which drew my attention to him and away from the remounting worries plaguing the edges of my mind.
“Gyah! I knew he would survive! He may be a bit stupid, but even he knows when to pick and choose his battles!” The mink turned to me with a wide smile and grabbed my shoulders. With his paws in contact with my bare shoulders, I could feel his strong relief and fierce motivation which brightened me back up. That was how I felt when I put my faith in Katakuri, and Pekoms felt this way about Strawhat Luffy? I suppose Strawhat was Pekoms' leader right now just as Katakuri was ours.
“If he’s trying to leave, then the rest of the crew has to be alive! They have to be! Big bro Pedro didn’t die in vain!” His voice wavered at that last sentence, but he kept his determined smile. I gave the invigorated mink a small, supportive smile and nodded.
“It seems they could be alive, but we can’t leave without Brulee here, remember?” Pekoms froze in his excitement at my words of reasoning. In a second, he was depressed on the floor. I laughed softly and kneeled next to his hunched form.
“Hey, don’t worry. I’m sure Brulee will be released soon, and you’ll be able to continue Pedro’s will.” Pekoms sniffled and looked up at me with furrowed eyebrows.
“You think so?” With a nod, I placed my gloved hand on his pink clad shoulder. The flow of his strong feelings seeping through my gloves had me taking a deep breath. Bright red blazed over the previous peachy orange. He really wanted- no, needed to help this rambunctious pirate running around Tottoland. For himself and no one else. That was a freedom not many people in this kingdom had. I wish Katakuri had that freedom.
“I do.” We shared a quiet moment before I stood back and put my hands on my hips. I was starting to feel tired again, but there were things that still needed to be done.
“Now, let’s go. Brulee has a few houses around here, doesn’t she? If you’re going to be masquerading as a robust vigilante aiding Strawhat Luffy, you need to look the part, right?” Pekoms jumped up and threw a clenched fist into the air.
“Gyah! Yeah! Let’s go!” With newfound energy, Pekoms grabbed my hand and dragged me along one of the many twisting and checkered paths.
<コ:彡ミ☆<コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆ <コ:彡ミ☆
"What about this one?"
"Um, too sparkly."
"This one?"
"Too frilly."
"Okay okay. This one!"
Pekoms pulled out a pink, skin tight mask with a few darker pink markings along the face and a star right on the forehead. It was one of the last costumes he had pulled out of one of the many costume drawers we found. Anyone who had met the Charlotte family would be hard pressed to deny the family’s. . . flamboyant clothing style, so a house in a central location solely for dress up clothes was well within their behavioral territory. I was laying along my stomach on a dangerously comfy bed as Pekoms sifted through all the clothes and outfits, helping him choose the right one. Who knew he would be so keen on matching his existing pink suit?
“Hmm, it matches your suit better than the other masks. Try it on?” I covered a yawn and closed my heavy eyes for a moment as the lion mink pulled on the tight face mask. When I opened them again, he had fit all his mane into the mask and I had to stifle a laugh at the sight. He looked like a giant cloud of cotton candy! Not to mention that the mask was so tight that it hid nothing to anyone who knew him.
“Gyah! I knew I looked stupid!” My giggles only increased as the embarrassed mink tried tugging it off and the mask didn’t budge an inch. His frantic attempts prompted me to get up, despite my sore body’s protests, and try to help him. After about five minutes of tugging from any and all angles, the tight mask stayed in its place on Pekoms. With labored breaths, I collapsed onto the soft bed as Pekoms sulked on the floor.
“Gyah! I have to defend Big Bro Pedro’s legacy in this? How shameful.” Once I caught my breath, I decided to encourage Pekoms again.
“It doesn’t matter what you wear, Pekoms. What matters is your actions. As long as you do what you think is right for your ideals, you have nothing to be ashamed of.” Another yawn drew out the last of my soft pep talk, and this time I couldn’t ignore the call of sleep. This day had drawn a lot out of me, and my aching bones settled as I slipped into my memories and dreams.
As I faded out of consciousness, the last thing I heard was the unsteady reply of my companion.
“Thanks, Y/N.”
Light filtered through the mosaic windows, casting hundreds of mini rainbows and refracted light spots across our cozy bedroom. It was one of the very few days that I awoke to my husband still by my side in bed. Even rarer, I was awake before him. Everything felt so bleary and light as I took in the warm air of our room, the large rises and falls of my husband’s chest underneath my arm, the softness of his arm settled against my body. It all felt so perfect. Too perfect. Yet, I didn’t want to lose this moment.
I treasured every moment I had with my busy behemoth of a man, no matter how brief, long, serene or fitful. I hardly stirred from my resting spot in fear of breaking the spell. There had to be a spell. My senses were so enchanted, so enraptured by the man resting beside me that at times it was hard to believe that I was his and he was mine.
Mine. That word still made me giddy to think about, let alone say, even after two years of marriage. Giggles threatened to bubble out of my parched throat, but I kept my whimsical feelings contained so as to not disturb him. He deserved the rest. He deserved the world. A world better than the one he lived in, one where he could be just as peaceful and happy as those he protected.
I wish I could protect him the way he did me. Protect him from everything that took away the shining light I saw in him every day. Protect him from the people that locked that light in a cage with a single window to shine through. But even as he is, scars and all, I knew he was perfect. My perfect husband in every sense of the word. The way he laughed, the way he smiled, oh his beautiful, unfettered smile, how he held me, those oh so gentle eyes when he told me he loved me. I was sure I was as pink as my antennae was bound to be by now. Every perfect thing I thought about him made it harder and harder to keep my smile down and my hands to myself. The hand on his chest trailed its way up to his uncovered face.
That was certainly the most perfect thing about him. The feature he hated most about himself is the thing that made me love him more when he finally showed me. Surprisingly, he didn’t move even as I cupped his scarred cheek. He was so warm. So soft. My lips itched to kiss him. To make sure he was really mine after all this time. Finally, I sat up at his side, looking down on his still slumbering face.
Slowly, I lowered my forehead down to his.
Nuzzled my nose to his sharp one.
My lips felt the exhales of his breath, getting closer and warmer until-
A loud, ground shaking rumble woke me up with a start. I sat up, my heart racing as I looked around to see where I was. I was still in Brulee’s dress up home, Pekoms lying on his back on the floor with loud snores coming from him. A pang stabbed my heart when I realized I wasn’t where my surreal dream-like memory led me to believe I was. Where I hoped I was. I was right, it was too perfect.
No, instead of Katakuri being next me, sleeping soundly, he was out there, fighting a dangerous pirate for our sake. If I had to guess, they were the cause of the rumbling that woke me up. With a weary sigh, I got up from the bed calling me to lay back down. As much as I wanted to rest, I still had to help Pekoms. Maybe I’ll get to see my husband at the end of his fight. The worries I had before resurfaced full force accompanied by a headache, but I made myself swallow any expressions of it back. Katakuri must be more tired and hurt than I am right now with such a long fight, so this is nothing. I have things to do.
“Pekoms, wake up. Wake up, Pekoms. It sounds like Kata and Strawhat are fighting again.” When my words did nothing to stir the deep sleeping mink, I crouched down and pulled back the tight mask still stuck to his face and let it snap back to his cheek. Pekoms was quick to react to that, a small roar of pain sounding from him as he shot up. His eyebrows were furrowed in anger as he rubbed his stinging cheek.
“Gyah! What the hell was that for?!”
“We need to go, now is no time for sleeping. Don’t tell me you already forgot why you’re doing this.” This time Pekoms heard me loud and clear, and jumped to his feet. I joined him a little slower as another tremor shook the house, knocking a few things from dressers.
“Of course I haven’t forgotten! I’ll never forget!” I smiled fondly at his persistent motivation before silently turning towards the door and making my way out of the house. The disarray of Brulee’s Mirro-World compared to how it was when we first got here was a bit shocking. It must be an intense battle for things to be in this state. My weariness was dragging my dread filled body down as I thought about my husband’s apparent struggle against this pirate. I had my faith in him until the end, but the fact that this has been going on all day and night is worrisome, to say the least. My mind ran wild with thoughts of the worst outcome, turning my antennae a lofty purple. Pekoms came up beside me with a look of uneasiness that matched my internal emotions.
“Geez, those two are really doing a number on this place.” He checked his watch. “It’s 10 minutes 'till 1 am. They’ve been fighting all day and through half the night, gyah! I think we should go see where the fight is. Maybe I can try to save Strawhat from an untimely death.” Pekoms seemed to also hold the sentiment that Strawhat wouldn’t be able to defeat Katakuri, which eased my worries a little. Although I know Katakuri isn’t omnipotent, like many are led to believe, his strength is nothing to write off. After seeing what he’s capable of for the past 3 years, I’d be stupid to doubt his abilities now.
All I could do was nod in agreement to Pekoms’ plan, and follow him as he started towards the source of the large tremors. Butterflies of nervousness had me feeling sick with each step I took. Anxiety was different from doubt. Eventually we got close enough to the fight that with each rumble, a wave of dust and Haoshoku Haki swept over us, and I fell to the ground at the unexpected onslaught of emotions. Pekoms was still standing, but upon noticing I wasn’t he knelt down beside me in concern.
When people use Haoshoku Haki, they put out their intentions and emotions with it. The stronger the Haki, the more intense the emotions. I could tell one was Katakuri because it felt familiar. His Haki was filled with conviction and love. The other Haki that was new and almost suffocating had to be Strawhat’s. His was also filled with love alongside persistence but had a dangerous edge to it. Like with one wrong thought, things could turn horrible, and that possibility shook me to my core. The lilac of my antennae flickered like a firefly that changed in brightness with each new wave that washed over us.
Pekoms must have seen something happening that I couldn’t because he suddenly picked me up and ran back the way we came a little to hide in a tunnel full of mirrors. He used his Devil Fruit and put his back to the entrance to block anything from coming in. I was still frozen as I held onto Pekom’s jacket. Katakuri’s opponent was more dangerous than I thought, and I was sure he knew that, but he was still fighting. Everything going on paralyzed me with overstimulation.
What if Katakuri lost? What would Big Mom do to him for losing? He’s never lost before, but she expects perfection from him. How would he feel if he lost? What would happen if he lost? Would Strawhat just leave with his crew? All these rampant emotions had my antennae darkening to a deep shade of brown from the muddied myriad of feelings cloudy my senses. I couldn’t control my powers in this state, so involuntarily I started to exude them out, trying to get rid of them. Pekoms was holding me tight, so I could feel the vibrations of him talking, but everything else drowned out his words.
Just be quiet, quiet,
QUIET!
And then. . . there was silence.
Hope you liked it!~ If I didn't already have the 3rd part made, I'm sure I'd be a horrible person to anyone reading this.~ See you soon.~
Part 1 <- - Part 2 - -> Part 3
#charlotte katakuri#katakuri#one piece#mochi man#whole cake island#wci#katakuri x reader#x reader#female reader#knacks writes
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